Staying Hungry

Until April 2007, Ruth was a normal busy professional mom of 8 children–obsessed with her career.  She worked hard and reached the pinnacle of success (or so she said she thought at the time). She became a Chief Financial Officer for a large nonprofit,  loved her job, but put in extraordinarily long hours which meant less time for her husband and kids.  But the tradeoffs were great.  Ruth said “We were living the American dream—plenty of money in the bank, a nice home, nice cars (even an RV and Goldwing motorcycle), the kids had every gaming system that came out, the list goes on and on.”

But then tragedy struck. Ruth said:

“Our perfect little American dream came crashing down around us when our 21-year old son accidentally overdosed on acetaminophen.  Over a 5 day period, we watched as he was snatched away from us so prematurely.  However, the shock caused us to reevaluate the way we were living our lives.  Material possessions no longer mattered as much, all we wanted to do was spend time with our children.  We found ourselves anxious when we were at work, and our youngest children (aged 8 and 9 at the time) started experiencing problems at school because they couldn’t shake the feeling we might not come home that night.

“We started making changes gradually—first by working out a deal with my employer to allow me to work from home so I could home-school the kids for the last few months of the school year.  The following September, we enrolled them in a charter school that several of their friends were attending, and tried to go back to our old lives.  I continued to work fewer hours in the office which allowed me to spend more time with the kids, but we found it wasn’t enough.  By December, we not only decided to home-school full-time but to move back to my hometown, where most of my family lived, that following summer.

“It wasn’t easy.  My husband was lucky enough to find a telecommuting position with his employer, but I ultimately had to resign from my position because my employer really needed someone in the office.  I tried to find another job closer to our new home, but the economy was already starting to slide so I decided to focus on my QuickBooks consulting practice which I’d started back in 1996 so I could work from home until my kids started kindergarten.  There were moments when we were terrified about our decision—would we be able to survive on just my husband’s salary and, more importantly, were we hurting our kids by moving away from the only home they’ve ever known?

“It’s now been nearly two years after our son died, and even though we miss him terribly we have to admit our lives are better now in so many ways.  My business is thriving—I even continue doing remote consulting for my former employer.  In fact, I now make much more money than I ever did as an employee.  More importantly, I now spend 24  hours a day, 7 days a week with my husband and children.  This might drive some people crazy, but I’ve never seen our kids happier or more secure.

“I guess you can say this is our son’s last gift to us—he opened our eyes to what was really important…before it was too late.”

* * *

I understand Ruth’s sadness and joy at awakening. In one of my last conversations with my father before he died from brain cancer, I asked him - “Do you have any regrets?” He said “A few, the biggest one being that I didn’t travel and do more fun things. I planned to do that when I retired and now I won’t get to.”

It wasn’t that we didn’t try to drag him off. I sure did. My constant whine growing up was, “We never have any fun. We’re always working.” And indeed we were. He kept busy at the office, but he kept us busy at home as well - working on the house, cleaning, mowing, painting. It was a work ethic distilled into me early and I became a dutiful “Type A” - although I did take summers off to camp and bum around the country, it didn’t last long and I never got enough “fun.” I don’t mean partying and drinking. I mean having friends and relaxing, tending to relationships and enjoying life. Now I’m trying to do that. Like Ruth, I know what the important things in life are - and now that my immediate family is pretty much gone - friends and travel beckon. And here I sit - trying to decide what to do, knowing what to do, and planning to do it. How about you? What are you doing to enjoy the gift of life, love and friends?

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For the past few weeks I’ve been reading “The Blue Sweater,” by Jacqueline Novogratz, founder and CEO of The Acumen Fund, a micro-financier organization. The book begins in Africa - with the story of the blue sweater….and I won’t add any spoilers here other than to say her story circles the globe and she’s now left Africa and returned, has witnessed planes striking the trade towers and is rapidly making changes and becoming enlightened with each month it seems. I usually blow through books in a day or two, but this one I have savored - like chocolate - for almost two weeks now. I don’t want it to end. I will reread it. It is an onion - layer upon layer, with something at each layer to make me tear up or actually weep. It’s one of the best books I’ve ever read  - simply because she tells a story without becoming weepy - or using her bio to champion fundraising. I like that it’s matter-of-fact, not diving for the heart strings, or glossing over harsh realities too much. It’s a book I have to read again to review it properly, so this is not my review - only a quick blog to let you know I’m almost finished and will be reviewing it soon. It’s too much to review in one post - so this is my first - it’s an amazing book. Buy it. Read it. It’s so worth it.

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I spent the better part of the day yesterday clearing off my computer hard drive. I uploaded photos, thousands of them, to a photo site I use. I deleted duplicate documents, trashed stuff I wouldn’t use any more - shredded all those funny, but old movie clips, jokes and spam mails and then wiped it all out with the empty secure trash command. Gone.

I freed up about 30 gigs of space. My computer runs faster. It’s not crashing every hour - only a couple of times a day now. It’s spring cleaning. I also spent an hour in prayer/meditation - releasing a lot of other garbage - grudges, bad feelings, resentments, losses, petty arguments. And tonight - I too feel better. Over the weekend I tackled the kitchen and all those duplicate but worthless lidless storage things. I ruthlessly attacked the closet - boxing up clothes for a soon-to-be yard sale. I shredded boxes of old notes and papers. In my living room right now - waiting for trash day so I don’t have to hike it all around to the back of the house to the trash - are NINE bags of shredded paper trash and two or three more of other crap.

I feel the chi (energy) moving already. I still have several rooms to tackle and dozens of more boxes and another closet or two to sweep through. But it’s a start.

If you’re into spring cleaning - don’t stop at the house. Think computer, think emotions, think head and heart and soul as well. This is a holy week. What better time to forgive and move on.

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A friend of mine is mad at a family member of hers. She has been for 10 years. He embarrassed her at a family function and she’s never forgiven  him, and doesn’t plan to until he apologizes. I told her today that some people won’t ever apologize, some people aren’t capable of apologizing, and some people’s apologies aren’t even apologies and worthless and meaningless anyway.

After being blindsided by someone on a social media site I belong to I wanted an apology. I’m not going to get it, but yesterday I realized it didn’t matter - for all the reasons above. It must be God’s way of confirming what I figured out yesterday to get to explain it to someone else today.

The ONLY reason for an apology is to “clear the decks” so the relationship can get back on track. That’s it. Period. Forgiveness of someone is so WE can get past an incident, drop the baggage and move on with our lives. Forgiveness doesn’t need anybody but us. An apology involves TWO people. Why? Because apologies are for when you WANT to preserve or work on the relationship. If you don’t care - or the relationship is toast anyway - an apology doesn’t matter. One or both people are saying, “I’m not happy, it hurt, but I’m willing to work on what we have and get past it.”

If they’re not willing to apologize - they’re not interested in you or the relationship. So bail out, forgive them (that’s another post) and get on with your life.

I realized after repeated public postings and making myself vulnerable, expressing my hurt etc. that there was never going to be an apology from this person. NOT only is she incapable of an apology, she has no desire to pursue the friendship and an apology at this point would be superficial and meaningless. Why? Because now, after all that - I no longer have any desire for the connection.

I explained this to my friend and she’s thinking about it. She’s not ready to write him off. She still wants the apology. But this time she’s trying a different tack - she’s being honest about how it made her feel, how it hurt her, how he’s someone she wants to be friends with. Knowing them both - I’m pretty sure he’ll apologize - even if he doesn’t even remember what he did or said. He’ll do it because he values the relationship more than being right, or being funny at her expense.

So next time YOU’RE wanting an apology or reluctant to apologize because you don’t want to be wrong or feel shame - remember the question isn’t about if you’re right or wrong in that moment. It’s about if the RELATIONSHIP is important.

To those whom it wasn’t important to for me - have a nice life. I have a feeling it will be a rough one - filled with pain, but I wish you well…and…

I forgive you.

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I love a good thunderstorm. I was never afraid of them until I was camping on a ridge almost at timberline in the Great Smoky Mountains. A “War of the Worlds” category five thunderstorm blew up and all that stood between me and it was a nylon tent. I headed for a stand of boulders to be closer to anything taller than I was. Within five minutes of my arrival and my huddling on a flat rock with my poncho draped over me, lightning hit. The “Boom!” was tremendous, and the impact only about 30 or 40 yards from where I squatted. I knew it was coming. I smelled it and all the hair - even the wet strands - stood on end right before it hit. It was an indescribable feeling - a cross between knowing you’re going to die and not being too worried because you know it won’t hurt - it’ll be over that fast.

The strike split a tall tree down the path from where I had just come a couple hours earlier and where I had considered pitching my tent because it “was safer.” But I wanted to see the stars so I had climbed higher. I was glad I had. Scared to death, but alive. And after the storm passed and the sky cleared I rolled myself up in my soggy sleeping bag and a tarp, and shivered, watching the stars come out and even more thrilled to be seeing them after the storm.

Being a heretic is a lot like that. You see what is safe, what is “best,” but the stars beckon and you answer. Some nights the storm breaks and the lightning flashes and someone or something gets hurt. I’ve been lucky that most of my life the strikes haven’t been as powerful as the one that split the tree. Because I do stand out with word and deed, I attract lightning.

Being around me - or any heretic - means sometimes getting hit with those strikes, or sometimes seeing a near miss. So, unless you share the heretic’s fascination with danger and possibility, chances are you aren’t going to hang out in the heretic tribe.

Everyone wants to BE a heretic because they’re considered “edgy, sexy, cutting edge, brilliant” and so on - AFTER the fact, after they’ve become millionaires, or after they’ve made a medical break-through. But not all heretics become famous. Many of them just become a pain in the ass. That doesn’t mean they aren’t changing their worlds - they are.

Ask anyone who works with a heretic and they’ll tell you they hate us a lot of the time. Or, if they don’t hate us, they hate how we are - unpredictable, offensive, opinionated, uncontrollable, untame-able, and blunt. Heretics can be generous, fun-loving, curious, unfocused and playful too - because they don’t obey all the rules and they enjoy having fun. They are - by their very nature - creatures who create their own path and often a path others chose to follow as well. Sometimes the path building is easy, or inspiring. Sometimes the number of followers is so great a heretic need merely point to the horizon and the tribe will trample the path almost effortlessly in their rush to get there.

But there are more times when people say, “Can’t you stop? Can’t you change? Can’t you keep your mouth shut? Can”t you get along to go along? Can’t you ignore it? Can’t you say something positive? Can’t you, can’t you, can’t you????”

No. We can’t. You can’t ask a bull to give up it’s reaction to a red cape or a sword in its side. The very thing that makes a bull a symbol of machismo and aggression and courage, also makes it dangerous.

Heretics are the spark, not the engine. They create paths, they don’t maintain them. They challenge, annoy, test, push and disagree because that is their nature. To have a “socially acceptable” and well-behaved, predictable heretic is to not have a heretic but a eunuch. Heretics are hated because they are loose cannons. They see and experience and crave a different world. They think differently, react, respond and reply to stimuli differently. THEY SEE DIFFERENTLY. But it’s NOT a choice. It’s innate.

And if you don’t get that - you’ll both love and hate them, benefit from them and be hurt by them. It’s not calculated. It just is.The most amazing thing happened last week when I had this conversation with a friend. Once, she said, she began to be honest with herself and to strip away the lies she told herself about how important it was to be polite and to be liked - even at the cost of sacrificing her standards, she began to understand me more.

She began to think like a heretic (not respecting the status quo), and her co-workers began to see her as a heretic. She lost friends for giving her honest, and unpopular opinion about what changes need to take place in her job because seeing something that needed to change for the better became more important than being liked. As she feels more empowered she is more dissatisfied with her position. It’s what honesty will do for you. If you will work through the storm, and the strikes, the discomfort, the pain, the uncertainty - you emerge a better person for having seen the stars - as dangerous as it might have felt.

So yes. Heretics are hated for a reason - we upset the status quo. We say things, think things, and point out the uncomfortable truth. We don’t always do it in a comfortable or timely way. But we do it. And as much as you may hate us - for that - you should be grateful. We DO change the world.

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Men don’t think about it. Women don’t realize it, but the women dancing and serving drinks and distraction in strip clubs in America are very often single mothers, merely working to provide a living for their children. They’re not there for the party. They’re there to make the most money they can without skills, a degree or opportunity.

Emily Fitzpatrick realizes this and does more than just “pray for them.” She adds action to her prayers with a weekend long “Mothers Day Outreach to Strip Clubs” in North and South Carolina. She has the woman power and volunteers, but needs items for gift bags.

Emily and her volunteers go into the clubs - not to preach, but to celebrate being mothers - reaching out to tell these women they are loved, they are brave, they are more than strippers, they are mothers too. Emily recently left the Billy Graham ministry where she worked, to pursue her own dream - to stop the sex trafficking trade around the world and in Asheville. She started “On Eagle’s Wings Ministries” and in the past year or so has done incredible things - raising money to buy land and a house where women and children she has helped rescue from the sex trade industry can heal, develop new skills and integrate back into society. It hasn’t been easy. She comes from a background of drug and alcohol abuse herself - and is an inspiring figure for how God really can and does change lives.

She has partnered with:

Diana Gillispie
Asheville Tileworks

Mountain Spirit Cards & Gifts
118 Cherry St
Black Mountain, NC
828-664-9754

Inspired Productions, Inc.
Inspired Productions

and other individuals to provide items for these women and others. But she still needs:

Bath and Body products
Candles
Make-up samples
Devotionals
Small Bibles
Bookmarks
Christian Music Cd’s
Small gift items

Her outreach has been a great witness to these ladies, who say they can not believe someone would do something so nice for them. It’s an act of kindness and plants a seed that God loves them and there are people who want to help them. If you can’t send money - call Mountain Spirits and buy a gift card in her name to use as she needs. $5 may buy inspiration for a single mother working to provide for her children.

If you or your church can help, please contact Emily Fitchpatrick at emilyfitchpatrick@yahoo.com as soon as possible. Thanks!

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I’ve shared close quarters and even closer business partnerships with some pretty stranger folks in my life. But, I have to admit this hen and puppy picture beats any mutually beneficial arrangement I ever had. As I’m working on my book proposal one of the qualities I’m expounding on is tolerance. It’s not on the usual list of entrepreneurial or success traits that I’ve seen, but it’s a critical element for both.

Why? Well, because by “bedfellows,” we mean people that we are - by need or design, close to, intimate with even. We share SOMETHING in common - or we wouldn’t be rubbing elbows. That “something” may be all we share, but it’s important that we recognize that that something is pretty critical or we’d be looking elsewhere for it.

I hope that makes sense. For instance… as a security guard in an old paper warehouse in Denver in the 80’s, I worked the graveyard shift. It meant wandering around in the bowels of the paper plant alone, at night, with the rats. I don’t mean mice. I mean rats. I had to stoop to traverse leaky old pipes, slog through puddles and walk through piles of shredded paper and cardboard. Me and the rats. Ugh. I could hear them squealing and running and falling or leaping off of bales of paper as I trekked along on my hourly rounds. The only thing worse than the rats were the spiders. I soon learned to bang on the metal door with my flashlight before I entered each room. It gave them fair warning and I didn’t worry about them falling onto my neck or head from the overhead pipes.

After several weeks of this, one night I didn’t hear them. No snuffling, squeaking or rustling of paper. No thump, thump, thump as they hit the floor in a panic to escape. Just silence. It meant that someone else had already been through ahead of me - and had already scared them off. It took me a bit to figure that out - like about three minutes later when I rounded the corner and found a work crew no one had told me about. It scared me to walk up on them unexpectedly - and frightened them as well, but ever after that I learned to appreciate the rats. They were my signal that I was alone on the hundreds of acres of empty factory. They were my “strange bedfellows.” We shared space in a way that benefited us both I suppose.

As the world changes, economies shift and resources tighten or disappear, being able to recognize, utilize and capitalize on “strange bedfellows,” is almost a necessity. We no longer have the luxury of picking and choosing the company, the person or the opportunity we might fire on all cylinders with. Finding a common need is a way to do several things:

Extend our capabilities
Extend our network
Open ourselves to new ideas, approaches and markets
Learn tolerance
See need, purpose and design differently than we might otherwise have
Appreciate the smallest, most seemingly insignificant or important things in our world.

There are more benefits I’m sure. But those stand out for me right now. I hope you can think of opportunities in your life where “a strange bedfellow,” is or has been a blessing in disguise. Even if that disguise is a rat, you never know how valuable their contribution may be.

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On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog” is an adage which began as the caption of a Peter Steiner cartoon published by ”The New Yorker” on July 4, 1993. Since then the cartoon has taken on a life of its own - like the “smiley face” in a way.  The cartoon shows two dogs: One sitting on a chair in front of a computer, speaking the caption to a second dog sitting on the floor. As of 2000 it was the most published cartoon ever from The New Yorker. No, I don’t have the headline to my post wrong.

"On the internet no one knows you're a dog."

What’s funny about Peter’s cartoon - on several levels, is how people can BE anyone they want to be, and many a tech savvy teenager has passed for an adult in venues where they’d never gain entrance in person. Yet the reverse is true as well - if your tech skills, your writing, your keyboard and dissociative social skills aren’t up to par people may indeed MISTAKE YOU FOR A DOG!

So while men can pretend to be women, and women can pretend to be girls and everyone can pretend to be pretty much anyone  and no one much notices - I noticed something. People don’t notice that some of those folks they’re meeting are disabled and may be mistaken for “dogs.” (in the slang term meaning “not pretty or desirable,”)

I don’t mean disabled as in a wheelchair, although they may be. I mean many of the folks I interact with have mental disabilities, depression, cancer, age issues diabetes, chronic fatigue syndrome and a variety of illnesses that should become invisible on the internet - but don’t. Because while hiding your looks, or your status, or your accent or gender online is fairly simple, hiding your disability, your lack of skills, your age or other challenges is often not so easy.

From the speed of typing, to the age or other challenges, disabilities are often hard to hide. I teach basic computer skills at a local college (volunteer) a couple of times a month. Those attending are in their 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. They are determined to learn to get online. Most are men. Unlike their sons or grandsons who can type 100 words per minute with their thumbs, they never learned to type. So they hunt and peck. As a result, their blog posts and their infrequent emails tend to be rather short. More time is spent hunting for the keys than thinking about what and how they want to say what they have to say.

As a result their communications are terse, and not the sort of compelling prose they speak in person. On the internet, no one knows what kind, gentle, generous souls they are. On the internet, no one hears their laughter, or their jokes or sees their smiles. I have learned to encourage them to be upfront with their shortcomings - to make a joke - so they let those reading their posts understand their limitations.

“In real life I’m a real chatter-box. But I don’t type as fast as I talk,” I urge them to tell folks when they first come online. Maybe I’m helping, maybe I’m doing them a disservice. I just know when I talk to someone and they sound a little odd, hearing, “I’m sorry, I had chemo today,” or “I’m sorry, I have some medical issues and today is not a good day,” make all the difference in the world to me. I should be patient because I have my days too - with my chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia flare-ups there are times I can’t remember what I wanted to say, or I sound out of it myself!

“I’m okay!!” I want to shout

“I just didn’t get the 30-hours sleep I needed last night!”

This has been one of those weeks for me. I worry that I haven’t posted every day, or that I’ve slept more than I’ve been awake. Then this afternoon a friend recovering from another round of chemo wrote to apologize for not answering an email I sent a few days ago.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Lying in bed listening to the rain on the roof all week has just been so much more relaxing than answering email.”

I know exactly what she meant.

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With the economy the way it is, people keep telling me no one is building homes or buying homes. But I learned there’s a great opportunity for small contractors right now.

Are you a small contractor? Maybe you want to start a contracting business, but only have one or two friends who are willing to work for or with you. Well, there’s a HUGE opportunity for you if you’re willing to do SIPS erections. What is SIPS? It’s a building system (Structured Insulated Panels) that’s been around since the 1930’s. It’s totally green. Cost the same or less than stick built, is NOT mobile home housing and NOT modular. Energy bills are HALF the bills in a stick built home and the AC and heating system is half the size of a normal until too.

What’s the opportunity for SMALL contractors? Well, these homes go up in ONE day to ONE WEEK and the average, employee-heavy contractor wants to keep their employees working on a home for a MONTH. The average contractor is concerned with payroll, not the cost to the homebuilder. So, just like they’ve been doing since the 1930’s - big contractors have been squashing, ignoring or overcharging homeowners in order to keep them from using SIPS.

But if you’re a homeowner and you’re NOT using SIPS, you’re losing money.

Ever since the ’30’s the lumber industry has been fighting SIPS (because SIPS uses structural wafer board which is less expensive and more structurally sound than board lumber). Contractors fight it because labor costs are 1/4 the usual cost because the crews only work a day or a week not a month. Utility companies don’t like them because they consume less power, less heat and less gas. The only person who really benefits from a SIPS home is the HOMEOWNER!! Gee…..and you wonder why it’s been around since the 1930’s and we haven’t heard of it. Now you know.

So, take note guys and gals looking for an opportunity. All you need a a crane and crane operator - which are rented anyway - they don’t work for you except on a contract basis.  And - a 3-4 man crew can erect anything from a 500 to 1,000 square foot house in a day or week, and a larger home 2,000 square feet in a week to a month.

Most experienced contractors and crews learn how to do the erection on their first job. Think about it. You can corner the market on this because the established contractors won’t touch it because it’s too efficient. Get into this market while the getting is good - because it is  WIDE OPEN. Architects - it takes less time to draw up the plans, the structure is more sound, able to withstand level 3 and 4 hurricanes, earthquakes etc. and more flexible in terms of design (you can erect the home and THEN decide where to cut windows and doors even!! You aren’t limited by 8 foot spans - SIPS panels come in 12-foot spans. EVERY wall is load bearing by design - so the possibilities are endless! They’re practically fireproof, more structurally sound…. and yet… no one is looking at them because the lumber, contracting and  energy opportunists are more worried about a profit. Go figure.

Isn’t it amazing how blind we are to opportunities around us? Isn’t it amazing how we let other people tell a story and yet we fail to see the real story? If you’re a big contractor or real estate agent you want to make money - but you want to make it the way you’ve always made it.  You don’t see the potential.

If you can look at a situation - like construction and contracting, in a different light now - then imagine what will happen when the economy shifts and people start building in earnest in 5-10 years. You’ll have the experience and people to keep your crews erecting whole energy-efficient developments. Heck, you might even be able to convince someone to let you put up these things for natural disasters. There’s a shortage of SIPS trained contractors and a lot of potential and demand for them. Check it out. http://sips.org.

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Buddy (left) and Otis (right) are best friends. Obviously they have their differences - size being the first thing that leaps to mind. But more than that is life perspective. Buddy is bigger, slower, WAAAY more mellow and laid back. And Otis, well, Otis is a chihuahua. He’s the canine equivalent of the hummingbird. Yet - they manage to get along very well. Buddy sleeps, Otis stands guard. Otis, I hear, never sleeps. He is also prone to be more cautious, more adamant and opinionated. Yet - they find common ground. In spite of occupying the extremes of their universe they manage to both “be dogs.”

I have a few friendships like this. All we have in common is we are both human. I find myself chasing my interests and passions as they ravel and spin out into the universe like balloons freed of their knotted gatekeepers -  my friends watch in amusement. They tend to be grounded, rationale, reasonable and practical. I’m Otis….yapping and snapping and spinning in circles and exhausting myself while my “Buddy” (or Buddies) are snoring, sniffing the air, lolling on their back or expecting someone to come along and slip them a treat or scratch their ears. Their world and their world view is so different, so safe, so ordinary and practical. And mine - so full of things to chase, shadows to watch, people and things and and and and….stuff. Whew. It’s exhausting.

But as I studied this photo and smiled at “Buddy” sleeping “safely” under Otis’ protective guard, it occurred to me that our best friendships are the ones like this - the ones that bring our uniqueness, our one-of-a-kind outlook on life, or solutions, or circumstance to the relationship.

Life with another six or seven Otis’ would drive us all to snarl and snap at each other. Put Buddy with six of his kind and you’d have the snooze of the century - with nothing much getting done. Like Buddy and Otis - those we have the least in common with are our best friends because they enable us to shine at what we do best. It’s been said that a candle shines the brightest in the darkest room and I have to agree. Look around. Someone in your life is the darkness that allows you to shine and vice-versa. And whether you’re friends or not - realize that the qualities that make you uniquely you are best revealed in your differences - not your sameness.

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