We begin our lives in birth. We end our lives in death. In between, we live a life that is not always what we think we want, but often gives us more than we ever could believe we could have.
A bittersweet celebration of the circle of life, the time in between the start of one new life, and of another one about to end.
When Dad had a spinal stroke in 2007, we knew that the long-term prognosis was there was no long term. It was fall, not quite two months after he had learned he was going to be a first-time great-grandfather. The day it happened, he had driven five hours to a board meeting, and then, instead of staying for the evening events, he drove five hours home again. He knew something wasn’t right. But he went down to the basement to ride his exercise bike, like he did every night. Mom found him on the floor, the bike on top of him, a short time later.
In a few seconds, Dad’s life changed from being involved in a half-dozen major projects that kept him out of the house eight-and-a-half days a week, as Mom called it, to being bed-ridden. Continue reading
I am developing a new habit, and so this weekend, as part of my effort to break the cycle of the old habit, I learned how to sew buttonholes. How can sewing buttonholes be the secret to forming a new habit?
To break a bad habit, we must choose to avoid what we’ve been doing. To form a good habit, we must choose to practice it repeatedly.
I’ll explain shortly. First, if you don’t sew, you cannot appreciate how hard it is to sew buttonholes. Niccolò Paganini wrote his wickedly difficult Caprice No. 24 in A minor so that violinists could learn it in lieu of learning how to make buttonholes.
I have a mechanical sewing machine that requires four separate steps for a buttonhole. The jazzy computerized machines sew perfect buttonholes in one step. It’s the difference between managing a team of horses and driving on cruise control.
I am not known as a domestic goddess, but once in a while I’ll trot out the sewing machine and make pillow covers. I decided this time that I’d finish them using buttons. That means buttonholes. Something I have successfully avoided since my high school life skills class.
At one time or another we’ve all had to adjust to changes in our place of work.
Life moves on. We can move on with it, or be left behind by it. The choice is ours.
Whether we own the business, work at the top of the pyramid or at the lowest level, all companies and the roles of employees within them must move and change over time.
Change does not have to be great or have tremendous impact on our daily lives to be unsettling. We all prefer to stay snuggly inside our comfort zone. A new boss, a new company policy, a new computer system, a new way of doing old things, a new location that changes our commute time and route.
Change is unsettling particularly when it is imposed upon us. We have no choice, no control, no say in the matter. In the midst of uncomfortable change, we do well to first remind ourselves: This too shall pass. Continue reading