Before dinner tonight, I found myself in the very first Starbucks -- the one that started it all.&nbsp; 


Though I&#39;d been once before, I noticed something this time that I failed to notice last time: no chairs.&nbsp; No seating whatsoever.&nbsp; It&#39;s Starbucks as we know it...but totally stripped down and unplugged. 



<img style="width: 257px; height: 242px" src="/blogging/image.axd?picture=2009%2f11%2fphoto.jpg" alt="" width="257" height="242" />&nbsp;


<img style="width: 366px; height: 242px" src="/blogging/image.axd?picture=2009%2f11%2fphoto+(2).jpg" alt="" width="366" height="242" /> 



It got me thinking about this distinction between simplicity and elaborateness (the opposite of simple is elaborateness, not complexity, as we often suppose). 


We&#39;re all biased, of course, and my bias is this: simple is better.&nbsp; It just is.&nbsp; The best car I&#39;ve ever driven, the best home I&#39;ve ever lived in, the best clothes I&#39;ve ever worn, the best friend I ever knew...they were all very straightforward and simple.&nbsp; And I loved &#39;em that way.&nbsp; Preferred them, in fact.&nbsp; 


Just like I loved this Starbucks.&nbsp; 


It lacked all those messy chairs, newspapers strewn on the floor,&nbsp;squatters hogging the best spaces in the place for hours on end with their computer cables running this way and that. 


Instead,&nbsp;this tiny 28-year-old&nbsp;joint&nbsp;was full of an eclectic energy, eager buyers, photogs, and folks just happy to get in, get out, and get on their way,&nbsp;steaming cups in hand. 


I accept that there are times we wanna flop down in a big cushy chair, but this original Starbucks reminds me that often, we overburden great ideas with unnecessary elaborateness...and lose the essence that made something special in the first place.

Original Starbucks

Whether it&#39;s the periodic seven-year-old&#39;s question, &quot;Why is the sky blue?&quot; or the executive&#39;s inquiry mid-way through a coaching session, &quot;What&#39;s your leadership philosophy?&quot; I have always enjoyed the questions we ask too infrequently.&nbsp; They reveal, after all, much more than the questions we commonly and confidently ask. 


I&#39;m not sure when my daughter and I will have more profound conversations about life, but she&#39;s already quite the philosopher and riddle solver.&nbsp; &quot;Why is the word &#39;men&#39; in the word &#39;women?&#39;&quot; and &quot;How can God be three things at once?&quot; are two questions she&#39;s posed in the last week alone, so I presume the floodgates are creaking. 


Perhaps more as an exercise to get myself ready, here are some initial chicken-scratchings in anticipation of the question, &quot;How should I live?&quot; 


1. First, be true to yourself.&nbsp; It is my belief that God designed you uniquely -- strive to be all that you were designed to be, not who others are...or as you presume others expect you to be. 


2. Take comfort knowing that while we are all fallen and fallible, redemption is yours.&nbsp; But don&#39;t abdicate or dismiss your responsibilities because of this.&nbsp; We choose, daily, our attitude and behaviors.&nbsp; Live the message, don&#39;t preach it.&nbsp; 


3. Live a life of integrity.&nbsp; Seek to be beyond reproach.&nbsp; It&#39;s human nature to judge and throw rocks; live your life as if on the front page, take refuge in those who love you for who you are, and be gracious to all. 


4. Focus where you can make a difference, even if it&#39;s just one starfish.&nbsp; Some people don&#39;t want or won&#39;t accept your offers or gifts or time or talents.&nbsp; Give them anyway, but wisely and with peace where they are misinterpreted, perverted, or rejected. 


5. Avoid the crazymakers, saboteurs, and joy robbers.&nbsp; Only sadists negotiate with madmen.&nbsp; They&#39;ll drain your lifeblood and you&#39;ll be left hollow and jaded. 


6. Invest in the eternal and those things which will transcend your generation.&nbsp; Life&#39;s too short to limit your focus to a harvest that ripens within just eighty years.&nbsp; We benefit from all those who precede us; continue the tradition. 


7. Forgive others.&nbsp; You&#39;ll need it too. 


8. As my uncle exhorted when I was twelve, &quot;Find what you love to do -- and do the hell out of it.&quot;&nbsp; Again, life&#39;s too short to be misspent on pursuits that don&#39;t bring fulfillment, contribution, or flat-out joy. 


9. Don&#39;t live for someone else.&nbsp; Live that your life might benefit others, but not to the detriment of your own personhood. 


10. Do no harm.&nbsp; Not only because this is right, but because life is a merry-go-round with a reliable sense of reciprocity.&nbsp; The people you might step on now will surely be your puppetmasters in years to come.&nbsp; Treat everyone knowing this, not because of strategy or fear, but out of love. 


11. Forgive, but forget at your peril.&nbsp; We are designed to forgive and be forgiven, but learn from your mistakes, avoid the same ones twice, and accumulate wisdom. 


12. Where possible, resolve or compartmentalize.&nbsp; Don&#39;t allow anger, regret, spite, hurt, or other emotional leakage to seep into other areas of your life, robbing you of purpose, passion, or the generally elusive contentment. 


13. Don&#39;t confuse family, love, and strangers.&nbsp; We often inflict the deepest wounds on those we love and strangers often exhibit the most selflessly breathtaking demonstrations of grace.&nbsp; Be open yet cautious, hopeful yet realistic, and take comfort that time -- while it rarely heals wounds -- quite reliably brings perspective, which itself is a harbinger of peace. 


14. Simple beats elaborate, significance trumps success, and sustainability is more valuable than flash. 


15. Take refuge in nature.&nbsp; The right choices reveal themselves more readily beneath shade trees, on hills, along beaches, deep within the woods, or beside streams. 


16. Remember -- love functions like a boomerang.&nbsp; Most of the time.&nbsp; Aim high and&nbsp;throw&nbsp;hard. 


17. You generally get one bite at the apple; make sure it&#39;s an apple...and the right apple. 


18. Don&#39;t refuse gifts.&nbsp; Give gifts.&nbsp; 


19. Say &quot;thank you,&quot; &quot;please,&quot; and &quot;may I?&quot; 


20. Hold the door for those behind you. 


21. Marry someone who holds the door for you.&nbsp; And&nbsp;attempts to manage&nbsp;your chair.&nbsp; And opens the car door.&nbsp; And insists you order first.&nbsp; And holds the elevator for strangers. 


22. Call an old friend and invite&nbsp;him or her&nbsp;to lunch. 


23. Send notes &#39;out of the blue&#39; acknowledging another person&#39;s awesomeness. 


24. Don&#39;t sweat the small stuff -- really -- in a couple or three years you won&#39;t remember worrying about it anyway, much less the &#39;matter&#39; itself. 


25. Spend time with people who make you feel good about yourself; make others feel good about themselves, and don&#39;t waste your time on those who&nbsp;maliciously and pathologically and consistently&nbsp;do the converse. 


26. Make a home, not a house. 


27. Avoid checking your bags whenever possible. 


28. Wear comfortable shoes. 


29. Take a warm coat, hat, and gloves.&nbsp; Or a swimsuit.&nbsp; Whatever you need to enjoy the scenery.&nbsp; 


30. Carry mints or gum...enough for everyone. 


31. Know another&#39;s culture, let it be, and roll with it.&nbsp; For example, when in China, never surprise your host by secretly paying for his meal. 


32. Balance -- or risk burning out, bowling over, or bowing out by necessity rather than choice. 


33. Stretch. 


34. Cuddle. 


35. Always have a pet. 


36. Wear sunscreen. 


37. Abhor vanity.&nbsp; You&#39;re beautiful, inside and out.&nbsp; The more the former, the more the latter. 


38. People are vastly more...or less than their titles, degrees, or income tax bracket.&nbsp; Treat others as if they&#39;re worth knowing and they will be. 


39. Laugh, cry, hug, pat, dance, jump, run, play, cartwheel, somersault, high kick.&nbsp; Move your body and it will move you. 


40. Expose yourself to things about which you are ignorant or do not understand.&nbsp; Be insatiably curious and polymathic.&nbsp; Read the greatest books, study calculus, see a Shakespeare play, attend the opera, play the piano, study aikido, compete in a triathlon, coach a Special Olympics team, give blood, learn another language, ride horses, travel, try new foods, visit wonders of the world and never stop asking, &quot;Why?&quot; 


41. Plug in rather than drop out. 


42. Take your kids to the zoo. 


43. Send your kids to college.&nbsp; And then, if they wish to attend a culinary institute, or write, or sing, or dance for a living...they can and more fully. 


44. Donate. 


45. Volunteer. 


46. Sacrifice. 


47. Accept that the house always wins and be ready to stand up and walk away from the table.&nbsp; Look forward, never backward. 


48. Be disciplined, not lazy.&nbsp; Prepare, don&#39;t wing it.&nbsp; Stand on the shoulders of your gifts and talents, commit to improve, and work hard to&nbsp;be great.&nbsp; Never rest on your laurels. 


49. Seek to die &#39;all used up&#39; rather than rich. 


50. Understand that true wealth is about choices.&nbsp; Poverty is about an absence of access to resources that might otherwise change your life. 


51. Expect miracles. 


52. Enjoy life. 


53. Eat well and treat yourself to fine meals every now and then.&nbsp; There&#39;s more to life than fast food.&nbsp; 


54. Order dessert...and think of me.

Some Assembly Required: 54 Lessons for a Life Worth Living

As I grow older, I am experiencing a number of phenomena that are new -- sometimes altogether foreign to me.&nbsp; But as they accompany me for months that roll into years, like Stockholm Syndrome or the proverbial shoe-pebble or saddle-burr, they become my begrudged companions. 


Amusingly, many of them have to do with my own body.&nbsp; My barber seems to spend more time in and around my ears, my tummy resists its pants, my joints echo and reverberate throughout the bedroom as I make my way to the restroom each morning, and the pains in my back from years of sports, backpack carrying, weed pulling, and other sundry chores emanate further downward and upward.&nbsp; (I&#39;m not quite sure whether I have more pains than before, or if my tolerance for pain is eroding.) 


On most days, my left elbow barely functions; the &#39;throw me, Daddy!&#39; repetitions have left me feeling like Bjorn Borg after a lengthy Sunday with McEnroe. 


When I rise too quickly after kneeling to write for long periods, the room might very well spin.&nbsp; Or it might not.&nbsp; It&#39;s a crapshoot...a roulette wheel, after all. 


And is it just me, or do headaches accompany aging?&nbsp; For several months now, I have these temporary moments of great pain in my temples...as if I can literally feel the armada of platelets making their way through my capillaries to feed those twitchy roots growing like itty bitty fronds in my ears. 


I was with my daughter at The Container Store several months back and we stumbled across this absurdly large pill box.&nbsp; Each day of the week was so voluminous it could assuredly house a dozen sugarcubes.&nbsp; Lauren looked at it, laughed, and commented impishly, &quot;Hey Dad, this would be perfect for you!&quot;&nbsp; &quot;Um, yeah, sure,&quot; was all I could mutter.&nbsp; Keeping track of my periodic maladies&#39; medications feels equivalent to coordinating traffic flow through the Panama Canal. 


Alas, however inconvenient or painful my nominal yet increasing afflictions of the body, they pale in comparison to life&#39;s more worthy foes. 


Tragically, one of the more sobering trends that accompanies age is the increasing death rate of friends and family.&nbsp; Forewarnings of this reality come in flavors as innocent, ubiquitous, and pop-cultural as The Lion King&#39;s Circle of Life, but this doesn&#39;t make acceptance any easier or more welcome. 


About every month, my wife and I learn of a dear friend who has passed -- car wreck, cancer, stroke, heart attack.&nbsp; In the last month alone, several moms and dads have left this world three to four decades prematurely.&nbsp; There&#39;s nothing like a funeral attended by half-orphaned 3, 5, or 7-year olds to cue swelling Smell the Flowers music. 


Visited, much like Scrooge by the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, I too have been reminded by recent events of the primacy of life.&nbsp; We only get one.&nbsp; This is not, as they say, the dress rehearsal. 


Pain, too, is a great prioritizer. 


But regardless the source, the outcome is the same: I have chosen in the last couple years to re-balance my life.&nbsp; Much less travel, more home-time, and the addition of &quot;no&quot; to my vocabulary have absolutely transformed my existence.&nbsp; And with my daughter growing a solid foot in the last 18 months, I am certain these choices are the right ones...the only ones. 


For all I know, my funeral is next Wednesday. 


Far be it from me to wonder when -- better to live as if it&#39;s imminent, only to be pleasantly surprised if it&#39;s not. 


Without question, I would relish the gift of a long, albeit pain-ridden or pock-marked life.&nbsp; Furry ears?&nbsp; Gelatinous belly?&nbsp; Achey back?&nbsp; Creaky knees?&nbsp; Joy-robbing elbow?&nbsp; Bring &#39;em.&nbsp; Better them, friends muse, than never getting to experience them. 


Better to love, live, and laugh as a stoop-shouldered grandpa at my granddaughter&#39;s high school graduation than muscularly roar out of life alone with saddlebags of money strapped to my mid-life Harley. 


On the statistically possible offchance that my body or mind unexpectedly give out before my spirit or soul, promise me one thing: you&#39;ll give my wife and daughter big &#39;ol bearhugs and remind &#39;em that, while Daddy made a ton of mistakes, he always did what he believed to be right.&nbsp; And he did the best he could at everything he tried. 


But most importantly, that he lived a life full of love.

Eu-logy: The Study of a Life

On November 11, 2009 PBS's Charlie Rose welcomed Freakonomics and Superfreakonomics authors Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner, followed by Malcolm Gladwell&nbsp;who discussed&nbsp;his latest collection of short stories, What the Dog Saw.
I know that so very many of you are interested in their writing -- so I just wanted to share an opportunity to see them interviewed. (<a href="https://charlierose.com/videos/10400">Freakonomics</a>&nbsp;and <a href="https://charlierose.com/videos/24765">Superfreakenomics</a>&nbsp;respectively.)

Catnip for Gladwellians

In conducting research recently, I came across the&nbsp;writings of Hippocrates.&nbsp; Though he is miscredited with the precise phrase, &quot;First, do no harm,&quot; he did write about abstaining from harming others -- medically or otherwise. 


I really enjoyed a few, select lines from the contemporary version of the Hippocratic Oath, and thought you might, too: 


I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon&#39;s knife or the chemist&#39;s drug. 


I will not be ashamed to say &quot;I know not,&quot; nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient&#39;s recovery. 


I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know.&nbsp; Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death.&nbsp; If it is given me to save a life, all thanks.&nbsp; But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty.&nbsp; Above all, I must not play at God. 


I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person&#39;s family and economic stability.&nbsp; My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick. 


I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure. 


Adapted from the works of Hippocrates by Louis Lasagna, Academic Dean of the School of Medicine at Tufts University, 1964&nbsp;

Hippocrates' "Do No Harm"

I apologize for being remiss these past three weeks and not posting -- I cling to my bias: If one doesn&#39;t have anything worth saying, remain silent. 


Hopefully there&#39;s a pony in the pile today worth finding. 


I had a recent client engagement that simply reminded me, &quot;Most of what we value is free.&quot;&nbsp; 


Too often, organizations focus on the &#39;extrinsics&#39; (the &#39;havings and holdings&#39;) and strive to motivate employees through pay, policies, and pavement.&nbsp; You know, bigger checks, better procedures, larger cubes or offices, designated parking, etc. 


Along the way, they sometimes lose site of &#39;meta-pay,&#39; which is free.&nbsp; The &#39;intrinsics&#39; (the &#39;beings and feelings&#39;) that foster&nbsp;a sense of achievement, recognition, growth, respect, personal esteem, value, etc. 


Interestingly, of course, extrinsics cost money and can become sinkholes.&nbsp; How much is enough?&nbsp; A key fob, a company jacket, a steak dinner...&quot;What have you done for me lately?&quot; 


When the intrinsics fall by the wayside, people receive too few at-a-boys and arm hugs to realize how much they are appreciated. 


This past week,&nbsp;solely because I passed a hallmark birthday, I&#39;ve received way more than my deserved share of arm hugs and at-a-boys.&nbsp; And like everyone, I beam.&nbsp; 


More than wrapped packages, what I&#39;ll remember -- and what we all remember --&nbsp;are the feelings communicated and shared by those who care. 


So to the extent you can, seek to be that employer -- and person -- who engenders a particularly authentic, selfless&nbsp;and magnetic feeling in others, one whereby they know how much they mean to you.

The Best Blessings Are Free

I was exhausted last night as I shuffled onto the plane in the dark amid the sleety rain in Michigan.
I&nbsp;shoved&nbsp;one bag under the&nbsp;seat in front of me, another above me, and&nbsp;gingerly took&nbsp;my seat where I slept like a tranquilized boar for two hours.
When I awoke, I had a pleasant conversation with the young man beside me -- Brian.&nbsp; Brian is around 30 and works at&nbsp;<a href="http://www.sewell.com/">Sewell</a>.&nbsp; Begun in 1911, Sewell is a very values-based car company, "And we really believe in it.&nbsp; For us, it's not just talk."&nbsp; We visited for over an hour and, somewhere along the way,&nbsp;quite nonchalantly, Brian commented, "I have brain cancer.&nbsp; See this scar?"&nbsp; (It ran from&nbsp;ear to ear, across the top of his fuzzy skull, and was easily 3/4" wide and almost 3/8" deep.)&nbsp; "I've finished seven weeks of radiation and now I'm in chemotherapy."
"Wow.&nbsp; And you're working?&nbsp; And travelling?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah.&nbsp; What else am I gonna do?&nbsp; I'm tired all the time, sure, but we gotta keep moving forward, right?&nbsp; Plus,&nbsp;we just had a huge meeting in Detroit with GM."
"What's your prognosis, Brian, if you don't mind my asking."
"That's God's call, not mine.&nbsp; I can only do&nbsp;what the doctors&nbsp;suggest.&nbsp; After that, it's out of our hands."
It is indeed, Brian; it is indeed.
As we parted ways, he shook my hand.&nbsp; "It was nice visiting with you, Blake."
"You, too, Brian.&nbsp; You, too."
And with that, I watched him stride toward the front of the plane.&nbsp; Along the way, he helped a businesswoman remove&nbsp;her very heavy bag from the overhead bin.&nbsp; She was jabbering away on her cell phone, complaining to someone back in her office, "I simply will not work for that amount of money.&nbsp; You can tell&nbsp;him I&nbsp;said so."&nbsp;&nbsp;She never made eye contact with Brian and didn't say a word to him.&nbsp; Not even a 'thanks.'&nbsp; But he smiled and kept moving forward.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
As if&nbsp;the billions who&nbsp;preceded us are insufficient signposts, God&nbsp;repeatedly sends emissaries carrying more 'perspective' our way.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
No one promised you another day.&nbsp; Make this one count.&nbsp;
Oh, and another thing.&nbsp; A couple personal favors, really.&nbsp; One, remember to say "Please" and "Thank you."&nbsp; It's just mannerly, okay?&nbsp; And two, stay off the phone when you're in confined spaces.&nbsp; We didn't call you and, frankly, we'd rather avoid the assault.

Brian's Brain

I noticed the Michael Jackson autopsy the other day. 


You know what my impression was?&nbsp; How small we are. 


In the end, we simply leave these husks that we occupied for so long...and in the case of Mr. Jackson, we are reduced to an accounting of scars, tattoos, chemicals, and sundry measures.&nbsp; 


136 pounds.&nbsp; Can you imagine?&nbsp; So tiny.&nbsp; 


If we&#39;re not careful, we can make too much of ourselves, no?&nbsp; Sure, the Jackson estate will&nbsp;generate $100,000,000 in new revenue in the next 12 months...but the progenitor is&nbsp;gone.&nbsp; 


Throughout the course of our lives, we are this, that,&nbsp;and the other thing.&nbsp; We may build fortresses, armaments, or empires.&nbsp; But in the end, it&#39;s all just rubble held together&nbsp;by water and sand. 


This past weekend, our precious daughter drew two pictures, the first a toothy chipmunk, the latter a trumpeting elephant.&nbsp;&nbsp;Despite my bias, each is&nbsp;irrefutably adorable:&nbsp;<a href="/blogging/file.axd?file=2009%2f10%2fChipmunk%26Elephant.pdf">Chipmunk&amp;Elephant.pdf (71.63 kb)</a> 


Let&#39;s make a pact: We shall not take ourselves too seriously, however serious our work. 


After all, we&#39;re just moms and&nbsp;dads and kids and nephews and sisters-in-law and whatever.&nbsp; We may dedicate ourselves to great causes, or&nbsp;hope to leave&nbsp;legacies for our children, or aspire to&nbsp;contribute something timeless...or to make a mark, leave a dent, achieve.&nbsp; 


But while Billie Jean will&nbsp;echo through time, as we all hope to,&nbsp;it&#39;s just notes in the wind.&nbsp; 


Here today, faded tomorrow. 


Make the moments -- every single one of them borrowed -- the very best you can.

Paper Tigers

<img style="width: 458px; height: 322px" src="/blogging/image.axd?picture=2009%2f10%2fPicture2.png" alt="" width="458" height="322" /> 


The announcement by GM yesterday that, in effect, &quot;Saturn is dead&quot; is a tough, tough blow for many.&nbsp; Not just employees and their families, but customers and so many others who developed an affinity for the little-brand-that-tried-but-just-couldn&#39;t. 


I remember all too well studying Saturn in 1988 as a Case Study.&nbsp; Just three years old then, it held so much promise: to be union free, to be collaborative, to be lean, to offer no-haggle pricing. 


It really did aspire to be different and to survive outside the GM solar system.&nbsp; But in the end, it proved to be entirely unprofitable.&nbsp; It was mostly &quot;all show, but no go.&quot;&nbsp; The hype proved incongruent to the product. 


The many reasons for its demise are clear to anyone who&#39;s been paying attention, but I&#39;m certain GM&#39;s Saturn will be as infamous a Case Study as Johnson &amp; Johnson&#39;s Tylenol. 


My focus for today, therefore, is hardly to flog such a valiant effort on a ruthless industry battlefield.&nbsp; (It&#39;d be&nbsp;akin to&nbsp;picking on an airline, where survival is victory.)&nbsp; After all, there are far too many cynics and observers who&nbsp;host rock-throwing parties in glass houses.&nbsp; 


No, instead, I simply wish to remind you that you are not the sum of your employment.&nbsp; Not at all. 


For the many who remain unemployed this day, or who will be in short order -- be it from Saturn or wherever else -- you are much more than your employment. 


You are a human being, potential incarnate, and I lift you up today. 


Keep putting one foot in front of the other.&nbsp; Remember, it&#39;s not how many times you get knocked down, it&#39;s how many times you stand up. 


As Bruce Lee used to say, &quot;Walk on.&quot;

Saturn & Self-Talk

Well, this is a neat idea! 


Mike Gathright, a professional acquaintance, is now&nbsp;8 months into a yearlong (or more, or less) sabbatical that involves traveling around the world with his family. 


The photos are beautiful and the&nbsp;gang looks happy.&nbsp; What a fun trip, especially during these times. 


Let us live,&nbsp;albeit briefly and vicariously, through his amazing photo album and blog at <a href="http://www.3amtraveling.blogspot.com/">www.3amtraveling.blogspot.com</a> 

<div style="text-align: center">
<img style="-ms-interpolation-mode: bicubic; left: 356px; width: 464px; top: 63px; height: 325px" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_U75CXsS9aP4/Snx1cjLlrxI/AAAAAAAAHdc/CwDZ7Rs3FVU/IMG_0503.JPG" alt="" width="464" height="325" />
</div>

Yearlong Worldwide Sabbatical

We all -- each and every single one of us -- present. 


Just as we all sell and negotiate each and every day.&nbsp; Life is one long dialogue about what to do, with whom, and in the context of finite resources...be they time, money, attention, energy, effort, etc. 


When I am asked for recommendations on Presentation Skills, I always recommend <a href="http://www.presentationzen.com/">http://www.presentationzen.com/</a>.&nbsp; 


And I do so again today. 


Presentation Zen&nbsp;is a crisp, clean, clear blog rife with countless book recommendations, videos, checklists, and other wonderful resources. 


Enjoy and, if it benefits you, please share it with others.

Presentation Zen

I spoke with the kindest man last week.&nbsp; Mid-sixties.
Regarding his vocation, he commented, "I have finally found my sandbox."&nbsp; And his eyes twinkled and his grin beamed.
Wow, yes.&nbsp; Our sandbox...&nbsp; That which we are called to do.
<a href="../../blog/post/vacation-vocation">Remember</a>..."vocation" -- from the Latin "vocāre" -- to be called.
May we&nbsp;each find our sandbox and, ideally, before the final straightaway of life's run.