Ten years ago today, I was in Chesterfield, Missouri, a suburb of St. Louis. At my home, a 1700 sq. foot condo I'd gotten as soon as I got out of college, I got the news. The evening before, I'd gone to Best Buy with a good friend, Leah, and purchased a new home stereo. To test out this stereo, I also purchased Steve Earl's Essentials. The next morning, after checking my E mail and cleaning off all items of necessity from my desk, I went down to the living room, popped in the CD, grabbed my 12 string and started learning some new songs.
Somewhere in my impromptu jam session, the cordless phone rang. A female friend on the other line asked the question we've all come to associate with something tragic: Are you watching TV? I, like so many other people, had the initial impression that this plane into the World Trade Center wasn't that big of a deal. Probably a Cessna, I thought. Or, even if it was a jet, it can't be the end of the world, right? Wrong. I slowly walked downstairs, thinking there was no big reason to rush. I flipped on the TV just in time to hear Peter Jennings blurt out, "Good God!" Then, I knew something big was happening.
I returned the favor and called several friends to see if they were watching.All I remember is one who was not. I told her and I'll be fforever cemented in her memory as the one to break the news.
Ten years later, I'm now living in the city where the attacks happened. Sure, there was an attack on the Pentagon, and the plane went down in rural PA, but I think most of us associate the attacks off 911 with New York.
Here, what is the vibe? Honestly, I'm not sure it's that different than the rest of the country. We all were attacked that day, not just New York. Were the tears New Yorkers cried any worse than someone in Tulsa? Maybe due to proximity, but we all were rattled to our core...New Yorkers were just closer to that core. Here today, there was a memorial service on the lawn at Columbia. I did not attend. Nor did I watch any of the footage. For me, I don't need to sit down to try to relive the trauma and drama. I think about it every day. I think about the helplessness we all feel. I think about how we all wanted to hug our families tighter that night. I think about a few of my single friends who, without our families, all went out to a local bar to dampen the day and watch the President's address from the White House. That day is as set in my mind as my wedding day, the days Carson and Dasher both retired, the funerals of my grandparents and a good many others that have left scars on my soul.
I'll not close with something "usual" like "We'll always remember" because, ffrankly, we won't. Time will go on. A generation down the road, the taste won't be as ffresh. But I know as long as I livve and my mind works, 911 will be part of my day. It has to be because that's the day our lives....yours, mine and the world...changed forever.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
Always A Beginner
So, I just bought this used guitar off a dude on craigslist. This isn't the first guitar I've bought off CL and it's likely not to be the last, either. For guitar geeks, it's a black Ovation six string EA.
Now, here's the deal: I'm really not a very good guitar player. That's not just me being modest; guitar enthusiasts will tell you the same. I am, however, the guy you want to hang out with around a campfire. I can play rhythm on about every pop, rock, folk, country and R&B song ever recorded. But truly being a technical whiz like Joe Satriani or Kellor Williams or Stevve Vai? Nah, not me. I'm just a folkie playing for sing alongs.
So, while we're doing this year in NYC, I wanted to have a musical outlet. I figured as much as I'd be studying, I'd need a release time where I can banng out some Springsteen on an acoustic. Hopped on CL, found a guy selling a guitar and amp and they're both now resting comfortably by my couch.
Changing gears:Today is my first day of grad school. Around 3:30 today, I'll throw on a jacket, grab my laptop and backpack and be a college student again for the first time in nearly a dozen years. Kinda scared, kinda nervous, mostly excited.
Because the narrative med program I'm in at Columbia University is so intimate, we've been provided a doc with the bios and profiles of our fellow classmates. One really struck me. Nahh, not the person so much, but the last statement in his profile:
I see the importance of always being a beginner and am committed to always beginning."
When I first read this, my gut reaction was, "Well, duh! When you think of the grand scheme of life and what we can possibly know, we're all newbies."
Yet, this fellow classmate seems rather proud of being a novice. That's where I felt our opinions devviated.
Back to the guitar. I learned everything I know on guitar back in the late 90s. About once per year, I'll learn a new chord, but really, I play guitar much as I did when I had only a few months of guitar under my belt. Really, I'm still a beginner. I don't want to be; I'd love to be able to shred like Eddie Van Halen, but I've just not devoted the time, energy and patience it takes to do so.I'm still a beginner, but a beginner with enough experience to accomplish what I want.
So, when I started thinking about my classmate's statement, he/she has every right to bbe proud of being a beginner. We cannnot know everything. Life is simply too short. Even academics who devote their lives to a singular focus will readily admit they cannot know all there is to know about that area of study. Life is short and we barely have a chance to scratch the edge of the plane of knowledge.
But, we try! I think we all try to improve ourselvves, even if we remain beginners. Otherwise, you wouldn't be reading this, I wouldn't be writing it and we'd all be less than beginners. We'd just be uncaring and sedentary.
As I start this first day of the rest of my life, I'm committed to embrace the idea of being a beginner. Proudly. That makes me someone always on the cusp of learning and evolving into someone and something better.
Now, here's the deal: I'm really not a very good guitar player. That's not just me being modest; guitar enthusiasts will tell you the same. I am, however, the guy you want to hang out with around a campfire. I can play rhythm on about every pop, rock, folk, country and R&B song ever recorded. But truly being a technical whiz like Joe Satriani or Kellor Williams or Stevve Vai? Nah, not me. I'm just a folkie playing for sing alongs.
So, while we're doing this year in NYC, I wanted to have a musical outlet. I figured as much as I'd be studying, I'd need a release time where I can banng out some Springsteen on an acoustic. Hopped on CL, found a guy selling a guitar and amp and they're both now resting comfortably by my couch.
Changing gears:Today is my first day of grad school. Around 3:30 today, I'll throw on a jacket, grab my laptop and backpack and be a college student again for the first time in nearly a dozen years. Kinda scared, kinda nervous, mostly excited.
Because the narrative med program I'm in at Columbia University is so intimate, we've been provided a doc with the bios and profiles of our fellow classmates. One really struck me. Nahh, not the person so much, but the last statement in his profile:
I see the importance of always being a beginner and am committed to always beginning."
When I first read this, my gut reaction was, "Well, duh! When you think of the grand scheme of life and what we can possibly know, we're all newbies."
Yet, this fellow classmate seems rather proud of being a novice. That's where I felt our opinions devviated.
Back to the guitar. I learned everything I know on guitar back in the late 90s. About once per year, I'll learn a new chord, but really, I play guitar much as I did when I had only a few months of guitar under my belt. Really, I'm still a beginner. I don't want to be; I'd love to be able to shred like Eddie Van Halen, but I've just not devoted the time, energy and patience it takes to do so.I'm still a beginner, but a beginner with enough experience to accomplish what I want.
So, when I started thinking about my classmate's statement, he/she has every right to bbe proud of being a beginner. We cannnot know everything. Life is simply too short. Even academics who devote their lives to a singular focus will readily admit they cannot know all there is to know about that area of study. Life is short and we barely have a chance to scratch the edge of the plane of knowledge.
But, we try! I think we all try to improve ourselvves, even if we remain beginners. Otherwise, you wouldn't be reading this, I wouldn't be writing it and we'd all be less than beginners. We'd just be uncaring and sedentary.
As I start this first day of the rest of my life, I'm committed to embrace the idea of being a beginner. Proudly. That makes me someone always on the cusp of learning and evolving into someone and something better.
Saturday, September 03, 2011
Ease Up, New York? Not So Much
When I was a print rreading fellow (i.e., back in the days before blindness), one of my favvorite reading spots was (gasp!) on the toilet. It must have bbeen someone else's fav spot, too, because somehow Reader's Digest magazines always found their way to the back of the toilet tank or the basket on the floor.
Back in the late 80s or early 90s, I was doing my bidness and flipping through that month's edition. There was a story about a campaign to get New Yorkers to become a kinder, gentler lot. II distinctly remember a black and white photo of a pudgey, middle aged taxi driver yelling and shaking his fist. Under the pic was the caption, "Come On, New York, Ease Up!"
Now, any sociologist and/or economist can tell you that NYC today is very different from NYC of the late 80s and early 90s. Like, somewhere in the early to mid-90s, crime rates just fell through the basement. There are a billion different theories on this that I won't discuss here, but suffice it to say that I've yeet to feel unsafe in our new town.
Furthermore, I have yet to meet with any of the attitude that's been pinned on the Big Apple. In the month (to the day, now) that I've been a New Yorker, I cann't think of a single instance of someone being what I'd term as "rude." No yelling at me/us crossing streets, no mutters under one's breath, etc. I just haven't noticed it...and definitely not the kind of 'tude shown in the photo so long ago.
Does this mean there aren't A-holes in New York? Duh, no! Those people exist everywhere. And thanks to the law of large numbers and this 8 million population, it's probably likely there are even more here. Yet, the kindness of New Yorkers, not the crudeness, is what we've noticed.
Two days ago, I was standing to cross the street onto Columbia's campus. As soon as the light changed, a gent to my side said, "Hey buddy, the light's in our favor." This doesn't mean I don't also use my senses to determine when the safe time to cross is, but I appreciated the gesture. Yesterday, I got a little turned around on a route. After crossing a street I wasn't sure of, I stopped the first set of footsteps passing me.
"Excuse me, can you tell me what street this is?"
"Morningside Drive. The park is directly in front of you."
Was that hard? No, but many simply don't believe New Yorkers can actually be ccourteous and kind. Life DOES move at a faster clip here, so bluntness may be interpreted as rude, or directness as shallow, but II just don't see it.
So, don't believve everything you hear about NYC. It's not the unsaffe place it once was, and the attitude has seemed to have been lost, too.
So, c'mon to NYC! Visit us, have a great time and see why we're falling in love wiith this town!
Back in the late 80s or early 90s, I was doing my bidness and flipping through that month's edition. There was a story about a campaign to get New Yorkers to become a kinder, gentler lot. II distinctly remember a black and white photo of a pudgey, middle aged taxi driver yelling and shaking his fist. Under the pic was the caption, "Come On, New York, Ease Up!"
Now, any sociologist and/or economist can tell you that NYC today is very different from NYC of the late 80s and early 90s. Like, somewhere in the early to mid-90s, crime rates just fell through the basement. There are a billion different theories on this that I won't discuss here, but suffice it to say that I've yeet to feel unsafe in our new town.
Furthermore, I have yet to meet with any of the attitude that's been pinned on the Big Apple. In the month (to the day, now) that I've been a New Yorker, I cann't think of a single instance of someone being what I'd term as "rude." No yelling at me/us crossing streets, no mutters under one's breath, etc. I just haven't noticed it...and definitely not the kind of 'tude shown in the photo so long ago.
Does this mean there aren't A-holes in New York? Duh, no! Those people exist everywhere. And thanks to the law of large numbers and this 8 million population, it's probably likely there are even more here. Yet, the kindness of New Yorkers, not the crudeness, is what we've noticed.
Two days ago, I was standing to cross the street onto Columbia's campus. As soon as the light changed, a gent to my side said, "Hey buddy, the light's in our favor." This doesn't mean I don't also use my senses to determine when the safe time to cross is, but I appreciated the gesture. Yesterday, I got a little turned around on a route. After crossing a street I wasn't sure of, I stopped the first set of footsteps passing me.
"Excuse me, can you tell me what street this is?"
"Morningside Drive. The park is directly in front of you."
Was that hard? No, but many simply don't believe New Yorkers can actually be ccourteous and kind. Life DOES move at a faster clip here, so bluntness may be interpreted as rude, or directness as shallow, but II just don't see it.
So, don't believve everything you hear about NYC. It's not the unsaffe place it once was, and the attitude has seemed to have been lost, too.
So, c'mon to NYC! Visit us, have a great time and see why we're falling in love wiith this town!
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Why We're Here
Most everyone knows by now that Marvelyne and I are living in New York. Most everyone knows it’s because I’m going to grad school. Some may even be able to state that my area of study is an M.S. in Narrative Medicine. But, over the last year or more, I don’t believe there have been more than a handful of folks who actually know what narrative medicine is. And frankly, a year ago, I was no different. So, here’s the skinny.
Narrative Medicine is a field which has only been around a few years. In fact, the term “narrative medicine” was coined less than a decade ago. To the best of my knowledge, Columbia University in NYC is the sole institution where one can study narrative medicine. Hence, our relocation to NYC for the 2011-12 school year. That’s the logistics, but again, what is it?
Narrative Medicine is a combination of health care, literature, communications, philosophy and a tad bit o’ social work. Interesting, right? But, what does NM do? Well, the goal with narrative med is to take these very complex stories of illness, healing, hospitalization, disease, disability and dying and turn them into something from which others can learn. Let’s take, for example, a story of a patient dying from cancer.
NM can be used by said patient to journal his/her thoughts and feelings as they’re going through the dying process, hopefully on their way to acceptance and peace. It can also be used by the caregivers who are treating the patient. After all, it’s a pretty callous health care pro that spends great amounts of time with a patient and does not get attached in some way.
Now, the tales of the process can be used by other cancer patients, cancer caregivers to understand the patient’s role, learn from the mistakes of other caregivers, etc. Again, NM tries to take these very personal, emotional and complicated stories and put them in narrative form for the comfort of those who are sick, with the added benefit of being an educational tool for the caregiver. Plus, there are many, many other applications I’m not even familiar with yet. But just wait - those times are coming!
Anyone who knows the speaking I do for health care can see the relationship between my work and narrative medicine. But the question still begs to be answered: “Okay Engel, this is interesting and fits you too a T. But, how’s it going to help the work you do?”
Well, for years, my main thrust has been keynote lectures. I’m hopeful for several different things to come out of this narrative med program.
First, books. With as much reading and writing as the program requires, I’m pretty sure there’ll be a few more Marcus titles in the not-so-distant future.
Polishing of my keynote: Through some of the oral communications of narrative med, I hope I can speak with an even more powerful and impacting style.
Third: More offerings to my clients. Now, instead of going too a hospital for a single 1 or 2 hour keynote, I can also teach the skills of narrative to all interested parties. I foresee myself giving my usual lecture on patient care in the a.m., then in the afternoon, meeting with a smaller group of front line caregivers and instructing them in some workshop form exercises about journaling and getting them to see the benefits of NM in their own field.
On Tuesday evening, the Narrative Med program held our orientation. There are approximately 25 students in the program, a little more than half were able to attend (thank you, Hurricane Irene, for at least helping most of us get there.) In my class there are physicians, playwrights, social workers, hospital chaplain, graphic artists, a nurse or two and several folks who’ve recently graduated, thinking they were going to med school, but needing to indulge their love of literature before entering the sterile world of health care.
After introducing ourselves around the room, we got into small groups with a few faculty members. From there, we discussed a poem with a health care slant, then used a prompt for a short writing process. Each person shared something from the prompt, “How did you get here?” We were allowed too interpret that however we saw fit. Most of us took on the task of answering the question about how we came to the field of narrative medicine, myself included. All of us, in some way or another, shared something rather personal… and this seems par for the course in NM. I look forward to these deep, meaningful types of writing instead of the fluff from undergrad English days.
What happens next? Well, next week starts the actual classes. As I get deeper into the program, I’ll share more. In the meantime, please enjoy more of Marvelyne’s musings about our NYC life at:
www.MisadventuresInNYC.com
Narrative Medicine is a field which has only been around a few years. In fact, the term “narrative medicine” was coined less than a decade ago. To the best of my knowledge, Columbia University in NYC is the sole institution where one can study narrative medicine. Hence, our relocation to NYC for the 2011-12 school year. That’s the logistics, but again, what is it?
Narrative Medicine is a combination of health care, literature, communications, philosophy and a tad bit o’ social work. Interesting, right? But, what does NM do? Well, the goal with narrative med is to take these very complex stories of illness, healing, hospitalization, disease, disability and dying and turn them into something from which others can learn. Let’s take, for example, a story of a patient dying from cancer.
NM can be used by said patient to journal his/her thoughts and feelings as they’re going through the dying process, hopefully on their way to acceptance and peace. It can also be used by the caregivers who are treating the patient. After all, it’s a pretty callous health care pro that spends great amounts of time with a patient and does not get attached in some way.
Now, the tales of the process can be used by other cancer patients, cancer caregivers to understand the patient’s role, learn from the mistakes of other caregivers, etc. Again, NM tries to take these very personal, emotional and complicated stories and put them in narrative form for the comfort of those who are sick, with the added benefit of being an educational tool for the caregiver. Plus, there are many, many other applications I’m not even familiar with yet. But just wait - those times are coming!
Anyone who knows the speaking I do for health care can see the relationship between my work and narrative medicine. But the question still begs to be answered: “Okay Engel, this is interesting and fits you too a T. But, how’s it going to help the work you do?”
Well, for years, my main thrust has been keynote lectures. I’m hopeful for several different things to come out of this narrative med program.
First, books. With as much reading and writing as the program requires, I’m pretty sure there’ll be a few more Marcus titles in the not-so-distant future.
Polishing of my keynote: Through some of the oral communications of narrative med, I hope I can speak with an even more powerful and impacting style.
Third: More offerings to my clients. Now, instead of going too a hospital for a single 1 or 2 hour keynote, I can also teach the skills of narrative to all interested parties. I foresee myself giving my usual lecture on patient care in the a.m., then in the afternoon, meeting with a smaller group of front line caregivers and instructing them in some workshop form exercises about journaling and getting them to see the benefits of NM in their own field.
On Tuesday evening, the Narrative Med program held our orientation. There are approximately 25 students in the program, a little more than half were able to attend (thank you, Hurricane Irene, for at least helping most of us get there.) In my class there are physicians, playwrights, social workers, hospital chaplain, graphic artists, a nurse or two and several folks who’ve recently graduated, thinking they were going to med school, but needing to indulge their love of literature before entering the sterile world of health care.
After introducing ourselves around the room, we got into small groups with a few faculty members. From there, we discussed a poem with a health care slant, then used a prompt for a short writing process. Each person shared something from the prompt, “How did you get here?” We were allowed too interpret that however we saw fit. Most of us took on the task of answering the question about how we came to the field of narrative medicine, myself included. All of us, in some way or another, shared something rather personal… and this seems par for the course in NM. I look forward to these deep, meaningful types of writing instead of the fluff from undergrad English days.
What happens next? Well, next week starts the actual classes. As I get deeper into the program, I’ll share more. In the meantime, please enjoy more of Marvelyne’s musings about our NYC life at:
www.MisadventuresInNYC.com
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Goodnight, Irene
If you're along the eastern seaboard, you've likely been experiencing Hurricaine Irene in all her glory the last couple days. Me, too. Just as an update on the Engels, we left NYC on Friday after our flight was cancelled Thursday afternoon. Got home to Orlando Friday afternoon just in time to watch Irene reeking havoc on the east coast. Have kept an eye on her just to learn if we'd have a NYC home to return to on Monday. As of now, the damage seems minimal, but the shutdown of the NY MTA has things pretty jacked up. So, too, are the airports and airlines.
We're set to return to New York tomorrow morning...please keep your fingers crosssed for us. Officially, I don't have anything until Wednesday afternoon, but I'd prefer to be tucked back into our upper west side apartment well before my appointments.
And this is where being Zen comes in. And it's something I'm not good at. I'm a worrier, a fretter and just generally get all anxious when things are out of my control. So, I'm trying to breathe and be Zen with the full knowledge we have some wiggle room if the airlines are being silly and won't take uus home tomorrow. More updates wheen we return to the Big Apple!
We're set to return to New York tomorrow morning...please keep your fingers crosssed for us. Officially, I don't have anything until Wednesday afternoon, but I'd prefer to be tucked back into our upper west side apartment well before my appointments.
And this is where being Zen comes in. And it's something I'm not good at. I'm a worrier, a fretter and just generally get all anxious when things are out of my control. So, I'm trying to breathe and be Zen with the full knowledge we have some wiggle room if the airlines are being silly and won't take uus home tomorrow. More updates wheen we return to the Big Apple!
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Why I Think It's Sad Stevve Jobs Is Leaving Apple
A little over two years ago, I got a life changing device. Now, the iPhone is commonplace, but then, it was the ffirst time I've ever bought technology in a store and NOT had to install accessible softwaare onto it. Plus, the iPhone gave me freedoms I'd not known before; a place to keep my books, movies, music, GPS apps, color identification, money identification, just a ton of things blind folks have a hard time living without. Maybe it's only symbolic, but I looked at Steve Jobs at having the fforesight to include accessibleity into all Apple products. For that, myself and the blind community are (or should be) ggrateful.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
E Minor
Just wwanted to publically wish my niece, Lauren, a happy 10th birthday!
My sister, Cathy, and her husband, Jim, met while in marching band together at Missouri State. Cathy's instrument was the melllophone, Jim's the sax, but he can play about every instrument known to man. As you'd expect, their kids all have more than average musical bones in their body, too.
For Lauren's 10th birthday, she received a six string Yamaha acoustic guitar. When I spoke to Cathy, she admitted she paid more for the new ax than she'd planned. To me, though, I think back to late 1999 when I, too, paid way more for a guitar than necessary. Well, maybe not more than necessary, it was just a really expensive guitar. Why did I drop the jack? Because an instrument is an investment in the person. I knew if I bought a ridiculously expensive instrument, I'd feel guilty if it sat in the corner, unplayed. And when I bought my Taylor 12 string, within months, I was doing things I'd only previously dreamed about on guitar. It was an investment in me...annd I'm sure Lauren's guitar will also be an investment in her.
My sister, Cathy, and her husband, Jim, met while in marching band together at Missouri State. Cathy's instrument was the melllophone, Jim's the sax, but he can play about every instrument known to man. As you'd expect, their kids all have more than average musical bones in their body, too.
For Lauren's 10th birthday, she received a six string Yamaha acoustic guitar. When I spoke to Cathy, she admitted she paid more for the new ax than she'd planned. To me, though, I think back to late 1999 when I, too, paid way more for a guitar than necessary. Well, maybe not more than necessary, it was just a really expensive guitar. Why did I drop the jack? Because an instrument is an investment in the person. I knew if I bought a ridiculously expensive instrument, I'd feel guilty if it sat in the corner, unplayed. And when I bought my Taylor 12 string, within months, I was doing things I'd only previously dreamed about on guitar. It was an investment in me...annd I'm sure Lauren's guitar will also be an investment in her.
Monday, August 22, 2011
One Man's Trash ...Is In My Living Room?
So, if you've met Marvelyne, you're well aware she's got a designer's eye. Maybe this is from watching too much Nate Burkas...or maybe she was born with it. Whatever the reason, she knows how to make things look good. Including me.
But one of the things I love most about her is she can see the potential in the disposable. She can bargain shop and, for $10, come home and have a gorgeous, hand made "something" for our home. And, it's not just her doing this at discount stores, but sometimes in, believe it or not, dumpsters.
Today, we weere walking down 119th Street and she grabs my arm. "Oh my God! There's this gorgeous lamp someone has thrown out! Can I take it home?" Uh, I guess...though I do wonder how much we look like Fred Sanford while digging stufff out of the trash bin. Still, she carried this lamp home, cleaned it up and, wonder of all wonders, the thing actually works.
So, now sitting in our living room, is this gorgeous six foot tall lamp. I have no clue what lamps cost, but I'd guesstimate that this one new was at least a couple hundred bucks. And why do we get it for free? All because mE knows how to see the potential in the disposable.
Whether it's trash, treasure, poodles or people, we all have the ability to see the beautifful in the benign. I hope you can hone your senses to see the true beauty when, at first, it may just appear to be trash, too.
But one of the things I love most about her is she can see the potential in the disposable. She can bargain shop and, for $10, come home and have a gorgeous, hand made "something" for our home. And, it's not just her doing this at discount stores, but sometimes in, believe it or not, dumpsters.
Today, we weere walking down 119th Street and she grabs my arm. "Oh my God! There's this gorgeous lamp someone has thrown out! Can I take it home?" Uh, I guess...though I do wonder how much we look like Fred Sanford while digging stufff out of the trash bin. Still, she carried this lamp home, cleaned it up and, wonder of all wonders, the thing actually works.
So, now sitting in our living room, is this gorgeous six foot tall lamp. I have no clue what lamps cost, but I'd guesstimate that this one new was at least a couple hundred bucks. And why do we get it for free? All because mE knows how to see the potential in the disposable.
Whether it's trash, treasure, poodles or people, we all have the ability to see the beautifful in the benign. I hope you can hone your senses to see the true beauty when, at first, it may just appear to be trash, too.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Sometimes, You've Just Gotta Call It A Day
Last night, I was in bed by 10 p.m.
What? 10 o'clock? On a Saturday night? In the city that never slleeps? Sadly, yeah.
See, yesterday was kinda tough on your old pal, Marcus. Before yesterday, Garrett and I had one training session with an orientation and mobility instructor on campus. We've been trying to map out our classes, teach Garrett where these are, orientate me to get from point A to point B, just all the stuff I'll need to get to class independently when school starts on September 6.
With only one O&M session under my belt, plus it was pretty bloody hot, Garrett and I didn't do so well. At least, not in my opinion. We made a couple wrong turns, Garrett was adament he wanted to go down a path that led no where, stuff like that. I came home from our route exhausted, mentally and physically.
Then last night when I took Garrett out for park time, we got lost again. Yes, twice in one day. Does not make me happy. In fact, leaves me feeling kinda vulnerable. Can I honestly think I can get around by myself in NYC? Is Garrett up for this chhallenge? The answer, of course, is yes...but in moments of wandering around not knowing where I am, yeah, self doubt is plentiful.
Once I finally made it back to my building, I was late hitting the elevator button. We live on the fifth floor. Or maybe I hit the wrong button. Either way, we ended up on the 12th floor...and I have no idea how. It was stiffling in the elevator, so by the time we got back to our floor, I'm drenched in sweat.
When I got back in, Marvelyne could tell something was wrong. Instead of vomiting everything out, I just said, "I'm going to just go to bed. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day."
And, today HAS been a better day. Sometimes, when things are rough, the best thing to do isn't to press on, but just surrender, chalk it up to life not being perfect, go to bed and hope tomorrow will be a better day.
What? 10 o'clock? On a Saturday night? In the city that never slleeps? Sadly, yeah.
See, yesterday was kinda tough on your old pal, Marcus. Before yesterday, Garrett and I had one training session with an orientation and mobility instructor on campus. We've been trying to map out our classes, teach Garrett where these are, orientate me to get from point A to point B, just all the stuff I'll need to get to class independently when school starts on September 6.
With only one O&M session under my belt, plus it was pretty bloody hot, Garrett and I didn't do so well. At least, not in my opinion. We made a couple wrong turns, Garrett was adament he wanted to go down a path that led no where, stuff like that. I came home from our route exhausted, mentally and physically.
Then last night when I took Garrett out for park time, we got lost again. Yes, twice in one day. Does not make me happy. In fact, leaves me feeling kinda vulnerable. Can I honestly think I can get around by myself in NYC? Is Garrett up for this chhallenge? The answer, of course, is yes...but in moments of wandering around not knowing where I am, yeah, self doubt is plentiful.
Once I finally made it back to my building, I was late hitting the elevator button. We live on the fifth floor. Or maybe I hit the wrong button. Either way, we ended up on the 12th floor...and I have no idea how. It was stiffling in the elevator, so by the time we got back to our floor, I'm drenched in sweat.
When I got back in, Marvelyne could tell something was wrong. Instead of vomiting everything out, I just said, "I'm going to just go to bed. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day."
And, today HAS been a better day. Sometimes, when things are rough, the best thing to do isn't to press on, but just surrender, chalk it up to life not being perfect, go to bed and hope tomorrow will be a better day.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Up to Speed Part Deux
Wow, can you tell I've not been blogging regularly? That last post somehow got to EE before I had a chance to complete it. NNonetheless, here we are again....
Last summer, after busting my tail during the spring semester, I underwent some surgery. I don't expect anyone to recall this, and I'm not sure how much I shared, but due to some major complications, I was hospitalized for the better part of a month.
After working myself to the bone AND the potential of dying during that recovery, I knew I had to make some changes. So, I started looking to keep doing what I'm doing, but in a way where I could work less, make more money and not let life pass me by while I was workingg; though "working" is a bit of a misnnomer b/c I love what I do. I just don't always love the headaches involved with travel.
I've always wanted to continue my education. Having an M.S. behind my name can't hurt anything, I love to learn and, maybe just maybe, increasing my education might bring about the life changes I've bbeen desiring. But, what can I do to behoove what I'm already doing?
I looked into a master's of public health, but it doesn't really fit what I do and want to do. Too much focus on social health issues, quantification of illness patterns, epidemiology, etc. So, as I always do when I need an answer to a question, I turned to some experts.
First person who's opinion I sought was Dr. Norma Hannigan at Columbia University in NYC in the School of Nursing. Norma is one of my clients, friends and I figured she might havve a lead for me. I was right!
When I explained I wanted to continue to do what I'm already doing, possibly with an incorporation of writing like an MFA, Norma asked if I'd considered narrative medicine. Considered it? I've never even heard of it.
Well, as I soon discovered, narrative medicine is a combination of health care, literature, social work, philosophy and communications. Columbia University in the City of New York is, I believe, the only program of it's kind. When I explored it further and really got into researching this idea of narrative med, well, it seemed custom made for me.
Thus, I applied and was accepted. Right now, I'm sitting in our 500 square foot apartment just steps from campus. In two weeks, narrative med classes will commence and I'll be engulfed in grad work...a student again for the first time in a decade.
More info to come soon on this current stage in Marcus' life and education!
Last summer, after busting my tail during the spring semester, I underwent some surgery. I don't expect anyone to recall this, and I'm not sure how much I shared, but due to some major complications, I was hospitalized for the better part of a month.
After working myself to the bone AND the potential of dying during that recovery, I knew I had to make some changes. So, I started looking to keep doing what I'm doing, but in a way where I could work less, make more money and not let life pass me by while I was workingg; though "working" is a bit of a misnnomer b/c I love what I do. I just don't always love the headaches involved with travel.
I've always wanted to continue my education. Having an M.S. behind my name can't hurt anything, I love to learn and, maybe just maybe, increasing my education might bring about the life changes I've bbeen desiring. But, what can I do to behoove what I'm already doing?
I looked into a master's of public health, but it doesn't really fit what I do and want to do. Too much focus on social health issues, quantification of illness patterns, epidemiology, etc. So, as I always do when I need an answer to a question, I turned to some experts.
First person who's opinion I sought was Dr. Norma Hannigan at Columbia University in NYC in the School of Nursing. Norma is one of my clients, friends and I figured she might havve a lead for me. I was right!
When I explained I wanted to continue to do what I'm already doing, possibly with an incorporation of writing like an MFA, Norma asked if I'd considered narrative medicine. Considered it? I've never even heard of it.
Well, as I soon discovered, narrative medicine is a combination of health care, literature, social work, philosophy and communications. Columbia University in the City of New York is, I believe, the only program of it's kind. When I explored it further and really got into researching this idea of narrative med, well, it seemed custom made for me.
Thus, I applied and was accepted. Right now, I'm sitting in our 500 square foot apartment just steps from campus. In two weeks, narrative med classes will commence and I'll be engulfed in grad work...a student again for the first time in a decade.
More info to come soon on this current stage in Marcus' life and education!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Zappening
So, what's been zappening since, oh, January or so? Wow, that's a big answer. First, let's take care of a little housekeeping. Here's a quick list of all the places I remember speaking since the winter:
University of North Florida
Shenendoah University
Team Spirit Reunion
Focus on Success, Pierre, SD
Amarillo College
University of New England
University of Nebbraska, Omaha
Coral Springs Charter, FL
Texas HOSA
Nevada HOSA
University of Hawaii-Manoa
Ball State University
Illinois State University
Georgia CIT
ABHES Convention, New Orleans, LA
AHEAD Conf., Seattle, WA
Overbrook Hospital, Bellevue, WA
BJC Health Systems, St. Louis, MO
Jackson Memorial, Miami, FL
Scripts Mercy Health Systems, San Diego, CA
Lancaster General Health, Lancaster, PA
National Nursing and Staff Development Org convention, Chicago, IL
University Hospital, Cleveland, OH
Plus, "The Drop" has continued to play at film festivals like the New Media Film Fest, The Feel Good Film Festival and soon to play at the central Florida Film Fest. We've tried to make each festival for panel discussions andd, as always, hoping there's someone there who shares our vision of a full length feature film for "The Drop."
So, there's the last eight months in a nutshell. If I can find photos of events, I'll soon post them to EE. With this schedule, can you see why I've been a blogging slacker? Thought so!
University of North Florida
Shenendoah University
Team Spirit Reunion
Focus on Success, Pierre, SD
Amarillo College
University of New England
University of Nebbraska, Omaha
Coral Springs Charter, FL
Texas HOSA
Nevada HOSA
University of Hawaii-Manoa
Ball State University
Illinois State University
Georgia CIT
ABHES Convention, New Orleans, LA
AHEAD Conf., Seattle, WA
Overbrook Hospital, Bellevue, WA
BJC Health Systems, St. Louis, MO
Jackson Memorial, Miami, FL
Scripts Mercy Health Systems, San Diego, CA
Lancaster General Health, Lancaster, PA
National Nursing and Staff Development Org convention, Chicago, IL
University Hospital, Cleveland, OH
Plus, "The Drop" has continued to play at film festivals like the New Media Film Fest, The Feel Good Film Festival and soon to play at the central Florida Film Fest. We've tried to make each festival for panel discussions andd, as always, hoping there's someone there who shares our vision of a full length feature film for "The Drop."
So, there's the last eight months in a nutshell. If I can find photos of events, I'll soon post them to EE. With this schedule, can you see why I've been a blogging slacker? Thought so!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Where's The Muse Been?
Yeah, I've been asking myself that question for the better part of a year. Where's the muse? Why haven't I been blogging? Is the muse mad at me? Am I uninspired? I don't necessarily feel uninspired, but just due to the craziness of life, blogging has gone by the wayside.
Except that tonight? I got a little inspiration and food on how to feed the muse. One of my fav podcasts is Radio Lab which you can check out at:
www.RadioLab.org
The episode I listened to tonight was about inspiring oneself, or in some cases, holding one's creativity up for ransome. A famous physician even told of swearing he'd commit suicide if he didn't finish his book in 10 days. Don't worry, I'm not THAT committed to blogging again!
Elizabeth Gilbert, the famed author of "Eat, Pray, Love" told the tale of how the book got it's name. She said she'd completed writing and still couldn't come up with a title. So, she sent out an E mail to friends basically cursing her manuscript for not sharing it's title. A friend wrote back with a response like, "Liz, it'll never tell you if you talk to it so mean." So, she changed her tune. Not unlike praying, she physically spoke to the manuscript and asked it to tell her it's title. Next day? Eat, Pray, Love was a reality.
Tomorrow, I'll share what's been going on the last, oh, eight or nine months. That is, I'm going to kindly ask the muse to help me become a more consistent blogger. We'll see if this works.
Except that tonight? I got a little inspiration and food on how to feed the muse. One of my fav podcasts is Radio Lab which you can check out at:
www.RadioLab.org
The episode I listened to tonight was about inspiring oneself, or in some cases, holding one's creativity up for ransome. A famous physician even told of swearing he'd commit suicide if he didn't finish his book in 10 days. Don't worry, I'm not THAT committed to blogging again!
Elizabeth Gilbert, the famed author of "Eat, Pray, Love" told the tale of how the book got it's name. She said she'd completed writing and still couldn't come up with a title. So, she sent out an E mail to friends basically cursing her manuscript for not sharing it's title. A friend wrote back with a response like, "Liz, it'll never tell you if you talk to it so mean." So, she changed her tune. Not unlike praying, she physically spoke to the manuscript and asked it to tell her it's title. Next day? Eat, Pray, Love was a reality.
Tomorrow, I'll share what's been going on the last, oh, eight or nine months. That is, I'm going to kindly ask the muse to help me become a more consistent blogger. We'll see if this works.
Monday, January 24, 2011
It's More Than A Game
East-West Shrine Game is about much more than football
UCF's Bruce Miller: "There's a bigger meaning."
January 20, 2011|By Mike Bianchi, SPORTS COMMENTARY
•
Stephen M. Dowell, Orlando Sentinel
Never even thought about it as anything except a college football all-star game that has been played every year seemingly since the beginning of time.
In the mind's eye, the East-West Shrine Game was always that star-studded, post-holiday classic played in some exotic, faraway locale sponsored by a bunch of men wearing funny hats.
But with the game being played at the Citrus Bowl on Saturday, we should all recognize that those Shriners are more about good deeds than funny fezzes. And the East-West Shrine Game is much more than a chance for college football stars to improve their NFL draft status; it's a chance for them to improve the life status of a bunch of sick kids.
"Strong legs run so that weak legs can walk," says George Mitchell, the Imperial Potentate (head honcho) of Shriners International. "Everything we do is geared toward helping the Shriners Hospital for Children."
If ever there were a sporting event for our city to get behind, this is the one. Is there really a better cause than a network of 22 hospitals that offer quality care for kids who are burn victims or have suffered spinal cord injuries or are born with birth defects? These are hospitals that serve thousands of kids worldwide whether their families are able to pay or not.
Kids like 13-year-old Danny Happy, who four years ago had his life altered forever. On July 10, 2007, a private plane shockingly fell from the sky and landed in Danny's home in Sanford. His 4-year-old sister Gabriela died and Danny was burned over 95 percent of his body. Nobody expected him to survive.
He was airlifted to the burn unit at the Shriners Hospital in Cincinnati, where he was put into a medically induced coma so that he wouldn't die from the excruciating pain he was in. Nearly 50 surgeries later, he is a living, breathing testament to the medical miracles that are done by the Shriners.
There will be players in Saturday's game from UCF (defensive end Bruce Miller and offensive tackle Jah Reid), Florida (defensive end Justin Trattou) and Miami (cornerback Demarcus Van Dyke and running back Graig Cooper). If you're a Knight, a Gator or a Hurricane, why not come out to the Citrus Bowl Saturday and support your team? If you're a college football fan, why not come out and watch some of the best players in the nation? Or if you just want to watch a good game and support a good cause, kickoff is 4 p.m.
Too often in these pages, we portray college football as a corrupt sport filled with liars, cheaters and BCS commissioners who have cornered the market on greed. We get inundated with the clanging and clamoring of message board malcontents, bad-tempered bloggers and FireTheCoach.com websites. So seldom do we get to hear the true song of the sport anymore.
Like the sound of Larry Csonka, the Miami Dolphins Hall of Famer who played in the East-West Shrine Game decades ago. He was on TV the other day talking about the game and said something that might surprise you. He said he didn't remember much about the Shrine Game he played in all those years ago. He didn't remember the score or even who won. But what he did remember was the trip he and other players took to the Shriners Hospital.
It's the same story every player who plays in this game will tell you. Every year during Shrine Game week, the players are asked to visit one of the nearby Shriners Hospitals. On Sunday, the players in this year's game were bused over to Tampa to visit the kids.
"There's a bigger meaning to this game," says UCF"s Bruce Miller. "It means a lot more when you're playing for something like this. We're not just out there for ourselves to raise our NFL stock; we're out there raising money for kids who are fighting and battling and struggling with some serious medical issues.
"Visiting these kids in the hospital is one of the most worthwhile things I've ever done. It's great to put a smile on these kids' faces. And you know what? They'll put a smile on your face, too."
If you think Shriners are merely a bunch a crazy guys who wear funny hats and ride miniature motorcycles in parades, think again.
Turns out the men underneath those funny fezzes do some serious good.
Those undersized motorcycles pale in comparison to their oversized hearts.
About the Shrine Game
What: East-West Shrine Game
When: Saturday
Where: Citrus Bowl
Kickoff: 4 p.m.
Tickets: $5-$50, available on ticketmaster.com
UCF's Bruce Miller: "There's a bigger meaning."
January 20, 2011|By Mike Bianchi, SPORTS COMMENTARY
•
Stephen M. Dowell, Orlando Sentinel
Never even thought about it as anything except a college football all-star game that has been played every year seemingly since the beginning of time.
In the mind's eye, the East-West Shrine Game was always that star-studded, post-holiday classic played in some exotic, faraway locale sponsored by a bunch of men wearing funny hats.
But with the game being played at the Citrus Bowl on Saturday, we should all recognize that those Shriners are more about good deeds than funny fezzes. And the East-West Shrine Game is much more than a chance for college football stars to improve their NFL draft status; it's a chance for them to improve the life status of a bunch of sick kids.
"Strong legs run so that weak legs can walk," says George Mitchell, the Imperial Potentate (head honcho) of Shriners International. "Everything we do is geared toward helping the Shriners Hospital for Children."
If ever there were a sporting event for our city to get behind, this is the one. Is there really a better cause than a network of 22 hospitals that offer quality care for kids who are burn victims or have suffered spinal cord injuries or are born with birth defects? These are hospitals that serve thousands of kids worldwide whether their families are able to pay or not.
Kids like 13-year-old Danny Happy, who four years ago had his life altered forever. On July 10, 2007, a private plane shockingly fell from the sky and landed in Danny's home in Sanford. His 4-year-old sister Gabriela died and Danny was burned over 95 percent of his body. Nobody expected him to survive.
He was airlifted to the burn unit at the Shriners Hospital in Cincinnati, where he was put into a medically induced coma so that he wouldn't die from the excruciating pain he was in. Nearly 50 surgeries later, he is a living, breathing testament to the medical miracles that are done by the Shriners.
There will be players in Saturday's game from UCF (defensive end Bruce Miller and offensive tackle Jah Reid), Florida (defensive end Justin Trattou) and Miami (cornerback Demarcus Van Dyke and running back Graig Cooper). If you're a Knight, a Gator or a Hurricane, why not come out to the Citrus Bowl Saturday and support your team? If you're a college football fan, why not come out and watch some of the best players in the nation? Or if you just want to watch a good game and support a good cause, kickoff is 4 p.m.
Too often in these pages, we portray college football as a corrupt sport filled with liars, cheaters and BCS commissioners who have cornered the market on greed. We get inundated with the clanging and clamoring of message board malcontents, bad-tempered bloggers and FireTheCoach.com websites. So seldom do we get to hear the true song of the sport anymore.
Like the sound of Larry Csonka, the Miami Dolphins Hall of Famer who played in the East-West Shrine Game decades ago. He was on TV the other day talking about the game and said something that might surprise you. He said he didn't remember much about the Shrine Game he played in all those years ago. He didn't remember the score or even who won. But what he did remember was the trip he and other players took to the Shriners Hospital.
It's the same story every player who plays in this game will tell you. Every year during Shrine Game week, the players are asked to visit one of the nearby Shriners Hospitals. On Sunday, the players in this year's game were bused over to Tampa to visit the kids.
"There's a bigger meaning to this game," says UCF"s Bruce Miller. "It means a lot more when you're playing for something like this. We're not just out there for ourselves to raise our NFL stock; we're out there raising money for kids who are fighting and battling and struggling with some serious medical issues.
"Visiting these kids in the hospital is one of the most worthwhile things I've ever done. It's great to put a smile on these kids' faces. And you know what? They'll put a smile on your face, too."
If you think Shriners are merely a bunch a crazy guys who wear funny hats and ride miniature motorcycles in parades, think again.
Turns out the men underneath those funny fezzes do some serious good.
Those undersized motorcycles pale in comparison to their oversized hearts.
About the Shrine Game
What: East-West Shrine Game
When: Saturday
Where: Citrus Bowl
Kickoff: 4 p.m.
Tickets: $5-$50, available on ticketmaster.com
Thursday, January 20, 2011
FaceBook Fan Page
I really, REALLY hate to have a fan page on Facebook. To me, it feels kinda schmaltzy; like, I’m limited to the number of friends, but fans? Hey, they’re just numbers. Well, I don’t think of any of my connections as just a number. Rather, I think of pretty much everyone I’ve ever met as a friend.
Yet, Facebook makes the rules. And the rules say no more than 5000 friends on a single page, unless it’s a fan page. So, I created one.
If you’re so inclined, please go to my fan page at:
www.FaceBook.com/MarcusEngelSpeaker
I’d love to be able to transfer all my connections over to this fan page and communicate just as actively with it. Until then, thanks to ALL my friends, fans and connections!
Yet, Facebook makes the rules. And the rules say no more than 5000 friends on a single page, unless it’s a fan page. So, I created one.
If you’re so inclined, please go to my fan page at:
www.FaceBook.com/MarcusEngelSpeaker
I’d love to be able to transfer all my connections over to this fan page and communicate just as actively with it. Until then, thanks to ALL my friends, fans and connections!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Man Ain't Got No Culture
The title is from one of my fav Simon & Garfunkel songs, but the whole idea of culture has been on my mind of late.
I just finished reading Eric Weiner's "The Geography Of Bliss." Weiner, a self proclaimed grump, searches out the happiest and most unhappy places on earth. The most disturbing part of the book was the trip to some eastern block region that starts with an M. I don't remember the name of the country and hope not to ever encounter it again, much less travel there. It's wedged in between Russia and Romania, but doesn't really fit in with either country.
Throughout Weiner's travels through the M country, he consistently ran into this feeling of discontent. Nah, that's too easy. A feeling of anger underlying impotence and despair. For example, an elderly woman gets on the public bus, only to realize she's on the wrong line. As she tries to sort it out with the driver, the other passengers start hurling insults at her, screaming at her for an innocent mistake. Another story came from a meal the author had with a native. At the lunch, the waitress spoke in Russian, the patron spoke in Romanian and each understood the other perfectly. This isn't as much of a nice, tolerent bi-lingual society as you'd imagine. Instead, the two are so stubborn to their ways that, even though they know how to speak the other's language, they simply refuse. An undercurrent of arrogance seems to be present, too.
As Weiner was leaving the country, he came to the realization that unhappiness is so ingrained into this culture that happiness cannot have a chance to survive. If everyone acts in a nearly identical manner, it shows that that is the culture. The herd mentality, if you will.
Bring this into our lives. Okay, my life since it's my blog. I've worked for institutions where the culture is, well, not open and accepting. In these organizations, I've seen the culprit as the trickle down effect. He/she at the top of the organization creates a culture around him/herself of superiority. There's a lack of openness that makes the head honcho seem aloof and unapproachable. That mentality seems to seep into lower ranking positions and then down to the folks the org is supposed to serve.
Now, let's take the alternative of that culture. I don't mind sharing that this happend at Gardner-Webb University in Boiling Springs, NC. In October, I worked with GWU students for the second time. Every time I've been to the university, I've been met with friendliness, acceptance and openness. Is it just southern hospitality? Nah, it's in the culture of the school. The university president helps set the culture.
As I was having dinner with some student athletes in the cafeteria, the university president was just finishing his meal. In the cafeteria. Sitting with students. As he was leaving, he stopped by our table to shake my hand and welcome me to campus. He also thanked me for being there and just showed so much grace. THAT is the culture of happiness and openess. Compare that with university systems where students don't even know the name of the university president. Can GWU students approach the head honcho if they have a problem? You betcha! Can students at other schools do this? Only if the culture is set where the student feels able to do so.
What kind of cultures do you interact with? Do you enjoy those cultures? Or do you, involuntarily, help perpetuate what that culture has for it's bad points? We all have the ability to make a difference in the culture of our organizations...do something positive to help yours.
I just finished reading Eric Weiner's "The Geography Of Bliss." Weiner, a self proclaimed grump, searches out the happiest and most unhappy places on earth. The most disturbing part of the book was the trip to some eastern block region that starts with an M. I don't remember the name of the country and hope not to ever encounter it again, much less travel there. It's wedged in between Russia and Romania, but doesn't really fit in with either country.
Throughout Weiner's travels through the M country, he consistently ran into this feeling of discontent. Nah, that's too easy. A feeling of anger underlying impotence and despair. For example, an elderly woman gets on the public bus, only to realize she's on the wrong line. As she tries to sort it out with the driver, the other passengers start hurling insults at her, screaming at her for an innocent mistake. Another story came from a meal the author had with a native. At the lunch, the waitress spoke in Russian, the patron spoke in Romanian and each understood the other perfectly. This isn't as much of a nice, tolerent bi-lingual society as you'd imagine. Instead, the two are so stubborn to their ways that, even though they know how to speak the other's language, they simply refuse. An undercurrent of arrogance seems to be present, too.
As Weiner was leaving the country, he came to the realization that unhappiness is so ingrained into this culture that happiness cannot have a chance to survive. If everyone acts in a nearly identical manner, it shows that that is the culture. The herd mentality, if you will.
Bring this into our lives. Okay, my life since it's my blog. I've worked for institutions where the culture is, well, not open and accepting. In these organizations, I've seen the culprit as the trickle down effect. He/she at the top of the organization creates a culture around him/herself of superiority. There's a lack of openness that makes the head honcho seem aloof and unapproachable. That mentality seems to seep into lower ranking positions and then down to the folks the org is supposed to serve.
Now, let's take the alternative of that culture. I don't mind sharing that this happend at Gardner-Webb University in Boiling Springs, NC. In October, I worked with GWU students for the second time. Every time I've been to the university, I've been met with friendliness, acceptance and openness. Is it just southern hospitality? Nah, it's in the culture of the school. The university president helps set the culture.
As I was having dinner with some student athletes in the cafeteria, the university president was just finishing his meal. In the cafeteria. Sitting with students. As he was leaving, he stopped by our table to shake my hand and welcome me to campus. He also thanked me for being there and just showed so much grace. THAT is the culture of happiness and openess. Compare that with university systems where students don't even know the name of the university president. Can GWU students approach the head honcho if they have a problem? You betcha! Can students at other schools do this? Only if the culture is set where the student feels able to do so.
What kind of cultures do you interact with? Do you enjoy those cultures? Or do you, involuntarily, help perpetuate what that culture has for it's bad points? We all have the ability to make a difference in the culture of our organizations...do something positive to help yours.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Negative Nellie In The New Year?
I'm ususally not known for being a negative person. Duh. I make my living showing folks how to find the good in all situations, right?
Well, I'm having a little trouble justifying and figuring out how I feel about the end of 2010 and the start of 2011. In 2010, we dealt with severe economic difficulties, we lost two family members, and (no exaggeration here), I almost died due to medical complications post surgery. All these things combined make me pretty excited to wish a bon voyage to 2010.
Now, my dilemma comes in like this: should I be happy about putting 2010 behind me? Or should I be happy to implement the things I learned for 2011? Both? Neither?
Let's look at some positive things that happened in 2010 to neutralize the negative: I received Garrett, my 2 year old yellow lab Seeing Eye dog, I made plenty of new friends, I published a new book, received the Patient of Courage award from the American Society of Plastic Surgeons and still got to wake up every morning with my best friend.
I guess when you break it down, the best we can do is take everything in, both good AND bad things, and do our best to progress and learn from our experiences. And that's exactly what I plan to do in 2011. Happy New Year, friends!
Well, I'm having a little trouble justifying and figuring out how I feel about the end of 2010 and the start of 2011. In 2010, we dealt with severe economic difficulties, we lost two family members, and (no exaggeration here), I almost died due to medical complications post surgery. All these things combined make me pretty excited to wish a bon voyage to 2010.
Now, my dilemma comes in like this: should I be happy about putting 2010 behind me? Or should I be happy to implement the things I learned for 2011? Both? Neither?
Let's look at some positive things that happened in 2010 to neutralize the negative: I received Garrett, my 2 year old yellow lab Seeing Eye dog, I made plenty of new friends, I published a new book, received the Patient of Courage award from the American Society of Plastic Surgeons and still got to wake up every morning with my best friend.
I guess when you break it down, the best we can do is take everything in, both good AND bad things, and do our best to progress and learn from our experiences. And that's exactly what I plan to do in 2011. Happy New Year, friends!
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