Here's My Card

On a whim I decided to create new business cards. It was an exercise to clarify and communicate who I am and what I’m about. In business, and in life. Because it’s all the same. Or at least it should be.

I asked my husband to snap a few photos. The camera is rarely my friend, so I wasn’t overly optimistic that he’d capture an image that would capture me in an authentic and real way. But I’ll be go to hell, he did.

The photo became the front of the card. It makes a statement. Here I am. What you see here is what you’ll get there.

Underneath the card, my name. Because with all due respect to The Bard, our name matters. It contains our whole life story. Given to us when we’re born, we’ll be remembered by it after we’re gone.

Underneath my name, what I do. Because what we do matters too. Writing and speaking are two of the ways I connect life’s many dots, and share what I discover with others. My work is always about finding ways for us to more closely connect who we are with how we live. In business, and in life. Because it’s all the same. Or at least it should be.

The back of the card contains the usual contact information. Because connection matters too. As human beings we are hard wired for connection. But it’s hard to connect with someone if you don’t know how to get ahold of them.

There was still a lot of blank space on the back. Enough room for one statement that would sum it all up.

It all turned out to be a great exercise. It forced me to distill it all down to what would fit on a business card. Or maybe it’s a life card. Because it’s all the same. Or at least it should be.

What would your card say?

25 Years And Counting

August 27, 1994

Yesterday we celebrated our 25th anniversary. I never knew love could be this big, or life this good, which is not to say that it has been smooth sailing or easy going. Far from it. It has however been worth every single minute that we’ve spent learning to create the life we share. Like most things, we’ve learned as much by what we got wrong (plenty) as by what we got right (thankfully plenty here as well it seems), and in honor of each of those years, and in no particular order, here is what my geologist and I came up with…

1. Love by listening.

2. Assume good intent.

3. Do your work and expect them to do the same

4. Don’t do their work for them and don’t expect them to do yours for you.

5. Play together.

6. Learn to laugh at yourself and with one another.

7. Talk about it, no matter what.

8. Learn to speak one another’s love languages.

9. Get a therapist.

10. Create at least one daily ritual that connects you.

11. Be active together.

12. Own up to what’s yours in real time.

13. Go on adventures.

14. Stay curious.

15. Be authentic.

16. Tell the truth even when it’s hard…especially when it’s hard.

17. Be courageous enough to be vulnerable.

18. Make your relationship the priority and move out from there.

19. Have the conversations that you don’t want to have.

20. Cook together.

21. Create lives of your own that strengthen the one you share.

22. Set boundaries that protect your relationship.

23. Identify and learn about each other’s enneagram numbers - really!

24. Love generously.

25. And because it bears repeating…do your work and expect them to do theirs.

I can’t wait to discover what we’ll learn over the next 25…

Pressing Problems

The other day on a walk through our local wildlife refuge, I asked my friend what, in her mind, was one of the most pressing problems facing our world today. Walking in silence for a bit, she turned and said, I’m concerned about the impact of robots taking over our work. What value, she wondered, will work have in the future? As our conversation unfolded, it was clear that it wasn’t a fear of AI (Artificial Intelligence) or that robots would take over the world, but rather, when things become available at the push of a button and there is little to no human-to-human contact in getting our needs met, what else will get lost? When a drone can drop a package at our doorstep in a matter of minutes, without interaction with the UPS driver we’ve come to know, what will become of our appreciation for the efforts and work of other human beings? Or when the latte at our favorite coffee shop is served up by robotic baristas, will we miss the friendly banter we’ve come to count on, which as it turns out, is why we walk the extra three blocks to frequent that particular establishment in the first place?

Her question about the value of work in the future is worthy our consideration today. On a small scale, how can we bring value to others through the work we offer in the world, and, how can we better acknowledge and appreciate the work that others offer to us? On a grander scale, how do we make sure that everyone has a place at the work table, and an opportunity to use their unique strengths and abilities to care for the needs of others and to tackle the issues of today and tomorrow?

Further along on our walk my friend asked me the same question. While there are many issues I could have talked about, maybe because we were having our conversation while walking on a forest trail, what came to mind was that I’m deeply concerned about the critical environmental issues impacting the planet. Especially of concern is what I perceive as our individual and collective indifference about the responsibility we all bear to care for our shared planet. On a small scale, how do we begin to feel the impact of our small everyday actions on the earth and the life which inhabits it, and what will that inspire us to do? On a grander scale, how can we force ourselves to come to grips with the fact that the survival of one is intricately bound together with the survival of all?

As we made our way around the refuge, while we didn’t come up with any conclusive answers, the conversation that ensued was a start.

What, in your mind, is one of the most pressing problems facing our world today?

Photo: Pexels

The Arcs of Our Histories

“I do not pretend to understand the moral universe. The arc is a long one. My eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by experience of sight. I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends toward justice.” 

Theodore Parker                                                                                                                                       (Unitarian Minister and abolitionist. This quote is an excerpt from a sermon he delivered in 1853.)

My husband Tom and I arrived last night at the home of our dear friend, Birthe, in Lindum, a village in Denmark that dates back 2500 years. The family home, which was built in the 1800s, sits across the street from the village blacksmith shop, and in the shadow of the village church that was constructed in 12th century.

Next to the house, and behind the church, is the village cemetery.

From her kitchen window, our friend is able to see the stone, found in her garden, that marks the grave of her husband, Niels, also Tom’s host brother when he was here in 1965 as a high school foreign exchange student. 

We slept upstairs in one of the many bedrooms in this house that has been home to the same family for five generations. 

Before a new day dawned, the small house next door burned down. 

As we sit over coffee this morning, smoke still hanging in the air from the fire, and the church bells ringing in a new day, as they have every morning for generations, I can’t help but be struck by both the shortness of a life span, and the long arc of the history of this place. 

The tension between the two is worthy of our consideration.

Towards what do the long arcs of our own short histories bend?

Written with gratitude to Birthe, and in memory of Niels.