Carol H Tucker Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
Pre-dawn there didn't appear to be much more than wet roads out side -- but it was quickly apparent that was freezing rain/sleet and the just the beginning of the storm
The wind is driving the snow against the windows, gusting very hard. Just three hours later, things are starting to look more white
Recently I did some reflecting on the value and the costs of being connected online. There were two things that dorve this, the first being the difficulties encountered by my daughter and her husband as they come to terms with a mother [and mother-in-law] who is wired and who has a different perspective on transparency VS privacy than they do personally and/or professionally. The second reason is was caused by a notice that popped up in Facebook for a birthday of a friend. Now this lady was someone that I had met online but had also connected with in RL and even worked with on two projects, so although we were not close friends, I am comfortable saying that we were quite friendly and I mourned when she passed away last year. Getting the reminder that her birthday was on Valentine's Day was a bit eerie, but even more disconcerting were the pictures and well wishes and greetings that festooned her page as a result of other folks getting the same reminder from Facebook.
Of what vlaue is a connection if you don't even know that the person you are puprortedly connected to/with is no longer alive?
While I ponder the meaning of International Mother Tongue Day being the same day as National Sticky Bun day [does this mean you should use your mother's tongue to lick the buns? Can only mothers taste the sticky? What international consortium, what cabal came up with this holiday and why does Congress pass these bills anyway?], the soft dusk of beladona's beach with the sound of the waves lapping the dock, watching the sweep of the lighthouse beacon rests and calms me...
I had never heard of the term until Reagan became president and made it the economic policy. Now the middle class has been all but obliterated and like Oliver Twist, we are reduced to asking plaintively "more please'?
Gifts often strike odd chords with us. As Andy Warhol observed, “You can never predict what little things in the way somebody walks or talks or acts will set off particular emotional reactions in other people.”
Someone give you a big plant, and you worry about killing it. Somebody gives you a cookbook, and you feel guilty about the fact that you haven’t been cooking much.
On this subject, I was struck by something from Story of a Soul, the memoir of my spiritual master, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux. One day in 1897, when she was in her early twenties, and weakened by the tuberculosis that would soon kill her, Thérèse was sitting in her wheelchair in the garden of her convent, and trying unsuccessfully to write:
"When I begin to take up my pen, behold a Sister who passes by, a pitchfork on her shoulder. She believes she will distract me with a little idle chatter: hay, ducks, hens, visits of the doctor. . . . Another hay worker throws flowers on my lap, perhaps believing these will inspire me with poetic thoughts. I am not looking for them at the moment and would prefer to see the flowers remain swaying on their stems. . . .I don’t know if I have been able to write ten lines without being disturbed. . . however, for the love of God and my Sisters (so charitable toward me) I take care to appear happy and especially to be so. "
Saint Thérèse emphasizes the importance of accepting gifts in the spirit in which they’re offered, instead of responding to the gift itself. She doesn’t want to be distracted with chitchat; she wants to write. She doesn’t want a bouquet in her lap; she wants to see wildflowers growing in the fields. But she takes “care to appear happy and especially to be so.”
I try to remember this every time I get a gift that sets off some kind of internal bad reaction, to make sure that I respond with the enthusiasm that thoughtful gifts should provoke.
(Of course, reacting to the spirit of a well-intentioned gift is not the same as reacting to a passive-aggressive gift. An electronic calories tracker is probably a gift that should only be given upon request.)
Resolve to “Respond to the spirit of a gift.” It’s a resolution that’s obviously right, but it’s often difficult to do.
Schools are opening two hours late. The government is on liberal leave and telecommute. But the river of lights [upper lefthand corner] continues to wend its way into the city...
As I wake up to a very cold and frosty morning and get ready for another week [albeit a short one] at the office, it occurs to me that on the whole? I would rather be back in Nowhereville....
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