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i’m grateful for today, so far. (i desperately need to remind myself…)
- six and a half hours of unbroken sleep.
- fresh cherries and pineapple slices in the refrigerator for breakfast.
- an hour of calm reading time with coffee before work.
- Lauren’s voice didn’t sound like a grating box of Lucky Brands, and she was glowing from her seven and a half hours of unbroken, albeit CR, sleep.
- the resuscitation of a long forgotten mix on the way to work, with songs from a nostalgic, bygone era.
- traffic at the I-95 merge kept me held up for awhile, giving me even more time to enjoy that mix.
- morning Zen chat with Wendy.
- Chik-Patty Sandwich from Edge of the Hood on a full hour lunchbreak.
(bonus: free sample of Reed’s Ginger Beer) - the amazing opportunities for patience and compassion presented by a last-minute phone call from my boss, the sudden loss of much-needed fonts, and the five-minute lag-time between the moment i press “print” and when the document actually prints.
- dark chocolate-covered almonds.
and it’s only 3:14 in the afternoon.
This is my reply to the following comment posted in an article in the New Haven Independent about federal stimulus money going to help the homeless in New Haven.
Posted by: lance | April 30, 2009 4:27 PM
most people that are homeless brought it upon themselves, I wouldn’t give ‘em anything, let alone 1.5 million dollrs worth of food. And how much of the 1.5 is going to be embezzled in one way or another?
Lance, how do you know that most homeless people brought it upon themselves? Have you been out there on the streets and asked them how they ended up there?
Or did you just see someone in the street, someone probably stuck in one of the worst periods in their life, and write them off as irresponsible and unfit for your compassion, let alone your tax dollars.
I wonder who showed you compassion in your lowest moment and what would have happened if they hadn’t.
And from a purely practical point of view: you and your tax dollars are going to deal with the homeless in one way or another, whether through paying police to handle their petty crimes in your neighborhood, through reimbursing hospitals for their unnecessary stays in the emergency room, or through paying for their jail time.
$13,500 = The average annual cost to provide shelter, meals, and case management for one person in New Haven (per Columbus House in New Haven).
$44,000 = The average annual cost to incarcerate one inmate in Connecticut. (http://www.cga.ct.gov/2008/rpt/2008-R-0099.htm).
Why not provide the resources to get the homeless stable, housed and independent when it’s so much more cost effective (not to mention compassionate) than the alternatives?
(The Independent’s site would not, for technical reasons, let me post my reply there.)
i turned on Monday Night Football last night just in time to watch Philadelphia Eagle DeSean Jackson toss the ball away in celebration of a touchdown he had not yet scored. i left the tv on for as long as i could say, “what a moron!” and turned it off.
i’m so done watching overpaid athletes over-celebrate. i’m not talking about Jason Varitek tackling John Lester after a no-hitter (a rare event) or Brandi Chastain ripping her shirt off after shooting the championship-winning penalty kick at the World Cup (the biggest soccer tournament in the universe) or Michael Jordan nearly taking Larry Bird’s head off when he leaped for joy after a buzzer-beater (a shot to win a big game).
i’m talking about Shawne Merriman doing a little jig after tackling an opposing running back when his team is down 10 in the third quarter or Shaquille O’Neal thumping his chest after blocking a shot in the first half or Joba Chamberlain pumping his fist madly after striking someone out in the third inning.
i don’t stand on my desk and thump my chest every time a new donation comes in from someone i’ve been working with. i don’t chest-bump my boss when a corporation awards us a grant that i helped write. why? because that’s what i’m supposed to do. it’s what i’m paid to do.
these guys are paid to play a game well. draining a lay-up for a professional basketball player is the equivalent of my making a courteous phone call.
sure, if one of my prospects gave $1 million after a few good conversations, i’d be dancing in the hallways. if a big company decided to fund enough supportive housing for every person we served after i gave them a compelling presentation, i might even thump my chest and yell booyah.
but not before the check came in and the contracts were signed.
because it’s alright to get worked up when something extraordinary happens when you do your job exceptionally well. not when expected results occur when you do the job you’re supposed to be doing.
or, as in the case of DeSean Jackson, the extraordinary is ruled a fumble because you couldn’t wait two steps to celebrate doing an exceptional job.
[related reading: The Day Cool Died]
[subtitle: The Zen of Seth Godin, marketer extraordinaire]
He writes:
A journalist asked me, Most people have a better standard of living today than Louis XIV did in his day. So why are so many people unhappy?
What you have doesn’t make you unhappy. What you want does.
And want is created by us, the marketers.
Marketers trying to grow market share will always work to make their non-customers unhappy.
It’s interesting to note that marketers trying to maintain market share have a lot of work to do in reminding us that we’re happy.
–
This bears repeating: What you have doesn’t make you unhappy. What you want does.
J.B. is a tall, lanky African-American man who suffered a traumatic brain injury at a very young age and isn’t able to work or live independently. He lives in long-term transitional housing here at the shelter, so I see him most days. His speech is stilted, he walks like one of his knees doesn’t bend and he makes people laugh like it’s his job.
(walking into the shelter most mornings.)
J.B.: You lookin’ beautiful today!
Me: Thank you!
J.B.: Don’t thank me, thank your mama.
(after having the above conversation at least a dozen times over the last few months.)
Me: I don’t think I know your name.
J.B.: My name’s J.B.
Me: Nice to meet you J.B. My name is Sara.
J.B.: Does that mean I can’t call you beautiful anymore?
Me: You can call me Sara.
J.B.: I don’t remember names real good.
Me: If you forget, you can always ask.
(today at lunch.)
Kitchen Guy: What’s your name?
Me: I’m Sara.
Kitchen Guy: Like Sarah in the Bible. Abraham’s wife.
Me: Yup.
J.B.: Sara Brown. Sounds good…
Kitchen Guy (looking puzzled): Is that your last name?
Me: Nope. It’s Warfield.
J.B.: All you gotta say is, “I do.”
“i feel like a person again,” said a big, teddy-bear kind of guy waving an envelope in the air. “i got mail.”
–
“i told you what i’m gon’ do once i have my own apartment,” said J.B. with the stilted walk and tilted speech. “i’m gon’ make you clean it.”
–
“you look a lot like my ex-wife,” a tall black man with a baby face and a flannel buttoned only in two places in the wrong slots said to me. “you wanna be my future?”
this is Lego Sara. if you want to get to know the Lego You, go to the MiniMizer. it’s a great way not to work on a Monday.
(thanks to Reasonable Deviations for the distraction.)
i’m in that place (again) where the whole world seems too big, where i’m torn between the quiet life and saving the world, between a simple desk job or a masters degree, between calm practicality or consuming passion.
i’m thinking about getting my MBA with the hopes of pursuing a non-profit administration job where i can combat what i see as an endemic ineffectiveness in how most non-profits are ran and funded. maybe with a joint MPA (Public Administration) or a Non-Profit Administration Certificate, but i feel like an MBA is necessary because it is more all-encompassing and practical.
or i’m thinking about taking a simple, undemanding job that doesn’t require an advanced degree, 9-5, with full benefits and a pension. i could go home with a clear head, though little sense of real accomplishment, work out and write, and take two-week vacations to exotic places.
or i’m thinking of quitting everything and hitting the highway in my Civic for a month or two. i’ve never seen the South.
as i write this, i’m realizing that all of these options are not mutually exclusive. a girl can write and go on road trips and still save the world, right?
The Hindu teacher Swami Muktananda was once asked why he didn’t work miracles. He replied, “I have no need to work miracles. The circulation of blood through my body is enough.”
i know–it’s been awhile, and this is such a slacker post. i promise i’ll come back with something original soon. but for now…
i recently stumbled across the Slow Leadership blog. this is an excerpt from today’s featured post:
Are your trophies all fakes?
The problem with besetting sins is that they make you miss what you are aiming at. You want to be happy, successful, well-regarded, and loved. But, because you don’t get your aim straight — because you choose means that appeal to laziness, cowardice, and pettiness — you don’t get what you want. You can force people to say they like and respect you; you can’t force it to be the truth. You’ve missed what you were aiming at.
Then, because we keep missing, we decide to settle for just the outward appearance of what we desire: for putting on airs and graces, rather than being truly revered; for pushing other people about, in place of seeking their willing co-operation; for demanding instant obedience, instead of winning trust.
the writers at Slow Leadership advocate honesty and humanity in management and business, saying that investment in these traits will eventually lead to both profit and real happiness for everyone involved, from the top to the bottom. it’s an entirely different approach than the philosophy of cutthroat, short-term profits at the expense of long-term stability that the corporate world buys into these days.
the site is chock full of compassionate insight and plain good business practice. theirs is a philosophy i try to live by, in and out of the office.
check Slow Leadership out. it’s not visionary, really. it just makes sense.
