Possibilities

'And now let us welcome the New Year, 

full of things that never were.'

- Rainer Maira Rilke

I've shared the new 2013 Nature Conservancy calendars with friends and family (some of the calendar's biggest fans tend to be the 12 years and under set who enjoy the animals).   A couple people commented that they don't use paper calendars anymore, that they keep track of everything electronically on their phone and tablet.  I do as well but...there's something to actually writing things down on paper, seeing the whole month and year view, looking back and looking forward, the symbolism of literally turning a page to a new year ahead. Starting anew. 

End of year brings up a lot of things, certainly reflection on the past 12 months.  The media reminds us of the largest events of the past year (strangely, just with the events of the past 2 months alone I had actually forgotten the Olympics were this past summer).  There's a compression of time, a desire to see highlights and macro trends, to pull out general themes as a way to package what happened.   Businesses often have year end closings, the mad dash to get billing in before the books are closed and budget cycles begin.

Though personal year in review can even more powerful, looking at past 12 months,  reflecting on some very happy moments, sadness and loss,  small and large achievements and individual struggles.  Perhaps some goal setting, or making thoughtful  resolutions and intentions for the year ahead.  

One of my favorite New Years memories was when I was home from college and spending New Years Eve with Rob, a good friend from freshman year, my sister and Rob's brother Tom in a cabin in Northern Michigan that Rob's grandfather owned.  I don't remember much of the eve other that I'm sure lots of music, drinking and laughter, but I do remember New Years Day when we clomped in heavy coats through the trees and the thick snow and pretended we were Bono in the original MTV "New Years Day" video.   I remember the remoteness of place, the only sounds being snow crunching underfoot and our amateur singing talents bellowing over the quietness, and a sense that we were the only people in the world.  

Looking up the video again, Bono had commented that he wanted 'snow as image of surrender' ....  

This is a magic time of year, if we take advantage of the opportunity to really let go of what no longer serves us, turn the page and look ahead to new adventures and possibilities that we may not have even imagined quite yet.  And to add the most important ingredient to cherished or new dreams that are planted - to do it!

Henry Ward Beecher, a famous clergyman at Plymouth Church here in Brooklyn Heights, once said:  "

Every man should be born again on the first day of January. Start with a fresh page. Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in things that were and are past."

Happy New Year everyone.

Stragglers

"Don't think I ever sent you this"  was his email headline, when NY Board trustee and my Obi-Wan Kenobi mentor Sam Howe forwarded this story below to me.   I hope the spirit of Thanksgiving touches us all this holiday (and yes, we all want to spend Thanksgiving at Sam's house now!)

THE GENERAL

by Ben Ryder HoweDECEMBER 12, 2005

Thanksgiving began as a gathering of two tribes, the Wampanoag Indians and the Pilgrims, and today that hospitable flavor remains in some dining rooms, where by tradition a few seats are reserved for guests who are far from home or otherwise on their own. This year, the Howe family of Westport, Connecticut, had several last-minute additions to their holiday table. One of them was an Iraqi general, a thirty-year veteran of Saddam Hussein’s army, in from Baghdad.

The general, along with seven other Iraqi government officials, was in the United States to observe security facilities along America’s borders. The tour, arranged by the State Department, had taken the Iraqis to Seattle, El Paso, and Jacksonville. Now it was finishing up with trips to American households to celebrate Thanksgiving.

At one o’clock in the afternoon, the general, accompanied by a State Department interpreter, arrived at the front door of the Howes’ 1850 Greek Revival. Sam Howe is a cable-television executive; his wife, Rebecca, had answered a notice in the Westport News, announcing that the International Hospitality Committee of Fairfield County was soliciting families to entertain foreign guests. “We were expecting a Fulbright scholar, or maybe a diplomat,” Rebecca said. The Howes had invited a dozen relatives, and had learned of their guest’s identity only thirty-six hours before they were to sit down to dinner. They were a bit apprehensive. “We were afraid that having him might alter the tone of the celebration,” Sam said. “We thought he might show up in uniform,” Rebecca added.

The general—who wore a corduroy topcoat, a maroon V-necked sweater, and a rep tie—turned out to be an ideal guest. Urbane and inquisitive, he spent much of the day on the living-room couch, sipping cranberry spritzers and sampling Wellfleet oysters, spiced nuts, and endive-and-blue-cheese crudités. The general was well informed about the issue of the day, the Iraq war, but he refused to dominate the discussion. “I would like to know what you think,” he said when he was asked for his political opinions. “It is a day for laughing, not shouting.”

The general, who is in his late fifties, is an old hand at courtly palaver, having visited every country in the former Soviet Union as well as most of the Middle East. This was his first trip to America. He’d been nervous about coming, because the America he’d seen in movies looked like a nation of bloodthirsty savages (a perception that Saddam’s propagandists had been happy to reinforce). It was a shock to him that he had not been shot at during his weeklong trip. “You are a civilized country,” he said over and over.

After the meal, the group (which included two academics, a therapist, and a folk-music teacher) retired to the living room, where the Howes had a fire going. The general described his tour, earlier that day, of the Westport police station. An officer there, “a very generous man,” had shown the general around the jail. “I said to him, ‘What is the biggest problem in your precinct, murder or robbery?’ Do you know what he said to me? ‘Neither.’ His biggest problem is traffic. You are a very civilized country.”

“When you return to Iraq, what will your biggest problem be?” a guest asked.

“Do I have to answer that question?” the general said. “I am enjoying myself too much to think about that right now.” He did admit that he was dreading the stomach-churning corkscrew landing that his plane would be forced to make at the airport in Baghdad.

Someone brought out a camera and tried to take a group picture. The general edged away. “I have to ask—is this for publication?” he said.

“It’s for a family album,” the photographer said.

“Good,” the general said, moving back into frame. “Because if certain people in Iraq were to find out I am in America . . .” He drew his index finger across his throat.

At the end of the afternoon, the general, declining a second serving of chocolate-chip pie, got up from the sofa and said it was time to go.

“I hope we have not made your wife work too hard,” he said to Sam.

The general planned to spend his last night in America in New York City, where he had a ticket to see “The Phantom of the Opera” on Broadway.

First Snow

The first snowfall has arrived in our region, beginning yesterday early afternoon, swirling outside my window at work, falling heavily to carpet the city streets.   Colleagues in Long Island and Westchester called with some weary dismay that the power they finally got back after nearly 10 days, was knocked out again.

I walked backwards from the subway home, to more easily navigate the route against snow blowing into my eyes.   Later in the evening I heard from neighbors that a tree fell down on Grace Court, crushing at least 2 cars, and I imagine more of that has been reported in the surrounding area.
New storm reports caused a sinking feeling in many of us, thinking heavily on so many people in the region who were terribly impacted by Hurricane Sandy.

Adding to the emotion of all of this was of course the Presidential Election.  As in the nature of our democracy and political system, there's ultimately going to be one winner and one loser.  Whether people were voting for someone or against someone, elated or depressed by the results, it's seemed that the tensions and emotions have gotten more extreme and even more polarizing in the past decade, and perhaps an amplification of that has been due to social media and the ability to share your view with hundreds sometimes thousands of people.  And for them to comment, agree or argue back.  A close friend of mine in LA  noted wisely on facebook that she was looking forward to the day after the election, when she would stop seeing and sharing all the views and thoughts.

We're all a bit weary from things.

Though, as I looked at the first snow this morning, dusting the pier-turned-into-a-soccer-field, I remembered a line from one of my favorite books, "A Prayer for Owen Meany" where the narrator John notes that his Grandmother always said snow was healing.  He commented that it was a very 'Yankee' point of view, as if there's a lot of something, it must be good for you!

When I lived in Michigan, Evanston or New York City part 1 and part 2,  waking up to a carpet of snow always gives me that New  Years Day feeling, a sense of a blank slate, a reset, the promise of a new day ahead.   May it give the same to you.

Tuning Out, Tuning In

My office officially opened today,  a week after Sandy struck the East Coast,  and the city slowly lurched back to 'normal life.'  While I was very happy to put something on other than yoga pants and  travel into "Big Town", it suddenly seemed like a different season,  chilly and dark by 5 pm, a foreshadowing of winter months ahead.

Most of the subway lines were now working but service was crowded and a little slow.  Many offices didn't have heat, many people in the area still didn't have power or gas for their cars.  Shattering reports of the loss of lives and homes continued on the news, thousands of people in flooded areas who've lost so much and have no place to go.   The other lead news story has been the Presidential election, slogging out for several months now, and taking its tole on many.

I've found myself selectively tuning out the national and metro area discourse yet tuning in to what I would call the "micro conversation' happening at a hyper local level here. The one where we're staying very much in touch, and helping each other out through the collective trauma of the past week.  The one where we're quickly responding to grassroots calls for volunteers or critical supplies needed in some of the most impacted areas that haven't been reached by FEMA or Red Cross.  The one where we're a little humbler and kinder than we usually are, or at least complain a little less.

 "Humans of New York" , the 'photographic census of New York' site, with the pitch perfect tenor for the city, shows me the story of the storm that I really want to know...

"These kids made me laugh. Despite their predicament, they were pretty excited about being on HONY. When I walked up, they were in the process of dismounting from the boat. But they helped me out by piling back in for the photo op."  
https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork

"We ordered a bunch of pizzas for the firefighters. And when we came to pick them up, they refused to let us pay for them."

https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork

"I discovered these four on a devastated street in New Dorp. They were cleaning debris out of a flooded house. The couple on the left is from Harlem. The couple on the right is from Ireland. They met this morning on the Staten Island Ferry, and decided to spend the day volunteering together."

https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork

Firefighters from FDNY Engine 228. When I was taking the photo, a bystander leaned in and whispered: "They aren't even on the job. It's their day off."
https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork

"America was a great force in the world, with immense prestige, long before we became a great military power. The power has come to us and we cannot renounce it, but neither can we afford to forget that the real constructive force in the world comes not from bombs, but imaginative ideas, warm sympathies, and a generous spirit."  

- Robert F. Kennedy, "Make Gentle the Life of This World"

We're going to continue to hear a lot about what went wrong, in the storm, in our city infrastructure and response, in our country.  Don't forget what's happening that's right.

Dark City

The wake of superstorm Sandy has provided the world with devastating images of loss of lives, homes, submerged cars, wrecked businesses and coastline destruction of the Northeast.  

There are also many who have lost much less, yet four days later, are having a very tough week.

As the news media has shared, thousands of people across the greater metropolitan region are without power - lights, water, heat - and basic connectivity with the outside world through phone or other electronic devises.  Uptown, life is as it was a week ago, unchanged.  Downtown it's the 19th century, with hundreds of thousands of people traveling nomad like many blocks north to charge phones, get water for flushing toilets, visiting ATMs, eating, sitting in warmth for a few hours, then returning home before nightfall. It's devastating on a wholly different level to look across the harbor and see the bottom half of Manhattan in the dark, like the heart of darkness in Gotham City. 

Some friends in Manhattan and New Jersey without power I've stayed in touch with via quick texts and facebook posts.  When you read the posts you have a sense of them reaching out from the abyss, and you can almost feel the pure desire to connect, with somebody, anybody, even through the cold and impersonal nature of facebook.  You can imagine how cold and lonely it must feel, and scary too when winter darkness arrives at 5pm and the light has drained from the day, and there's many hours until bedtime.

No one really wants to complain. They feel bad about it, they know this is temporary, they haven't lost their home or a child or a husband - and they know they live in the 21st century, in a first world country, in New York City aka "The Center of the Universe" no less.   They intellectually know that millions of people all over the world have to walk miles for water, never have electricity, heat, indoor plumbing, hot showers.  Still, this is not what we are used to here, and it's really very difficult to sit in your home at night, in the cold and in the dark, and try to remain positive. 

A close friend in TriBeCa who has been living in Dark City with her husband, teenage son and sick dog, sent a joyful text and image today - a Duracell truck parked in Lower Manhattan giving away free batteries and charging stations for all people who needed it.  She and her husband walked across the Brooklyn Bridge this afternoon to come to Brooklyn Heights for grocery shopping, showers, phone charging and hugs and we proclaimed Duracell PR heroes and that we'd never buy another brand of battery again. 

Soon the time came for them to leave, to travel back to Dark City before night fell, to walk the dog, take care of their teenage son, and then sit in the dark and try to sleep.    She sent another image walking across the Brooklyn Bridge of Manhattan Bridge and said how scary and lonely it was to walk across the bridge in the dark.

Everyone is hoping that power will be restored by this weekend, and eventually flooded subways will be drained and functional, and soon we'll be back to 'normal.'     In the meantime, a lot of people are trying to remain positive, and waiting for our bright lights to return.

Aftermath

My next door neighbor posted the above photo on Facebook, showing the powerful contrast of lower Manhattan two months ago on September 11th anniversary and last night.  

I took the photo above of New York Harbor few minutes ago  where I ritualistically look out at the water from my little kitchen window when coffee is brewing.   The harbor is typically full of life -

ferries, barges, small motor crafts, sailing vessels, helicopters during 'rush hour' flying from New Jersey to Wall Street and back, and frequently cruise ships leaving port from the Hudson going out to sea.

The stillness, the quiet, the absence of light - distinctive characteristics of New York City - are temporarily hushed during the aftermath of 'Superstorm Sandy.'

I personally fared so much better than many - never lost power, never was flooded (though the parking lot and road by the soccer field pier above was shockingly a lake during the height of the storm), temporarily lost internet and cable tv, have food, water, shelter, very very okay.  

It's hard not to think about how life was in New York City in the days, weeks and months that followed September 11th attacks, when invincible city dwellers were humbled with loss of lives, power, homes, public transportation, not knowing when you might return to work, the grumpiness of not having ordinary convenience of local businesses that you are used to, and the mere shock of the enormity of it all.   

Friends in New Jersey are surrounded by devastation and some suffering significant home damage.  A few in NJ and NY are without power, potentially for many days, and likely feeling that dull reality of how good life really was when you could just turn on a light, charge your phone, watch TV or have a hot shower.    

Family and friends from all over are checking in, and we are frequently checking in with each other locally, grateful to have texts from friends and colleagues in Manhattan that you're temporarily cut off from with flooded subway tracks that may take not days but weeks to pump out.

Many are gaining a much wider perspective of New York City as not just being about tall buildings, dense population,  bright lights, 24/7 activity, but in reality a small geographic area that's part of one of the largest natural harbors in the world.  (We are part of it, it's not just a small part of us...)

Like others who emerge from natural and man made disasters, we will be okay.  We will move forward and take care of each other and clean up.  We will temporarily remember again what matters most. 

Storm Watch

A few years ago when I was living in California, I remember being at a Labor Day weekend barbecue in San Francisco's Noe Valley and my friends calling me "Doppler" because I kept running inside to check the Weather Channel.  This seemed very strange to everyone under California's ubiquitous blue skies and sunshine, a beautiful day like many countless beautiful days out there, where weather changes are on the whole a lot more subtle.

When your family lives in Florida, paying attention to Hurricane Season becomes second nature.   You know that if certain storms stay on track, a sense of automatic pilot takes over: lawn furniture and plants go inside, provisions and extra water are purchased, boats are secured, generators come out, hurricane shutters are closed, quick calls are made to friends in the Bahamas and then everyone hunkers down to wait it out, and hope that it passes quickly.

Of course the Labor Day storm I was paying attention to under California's cloudless skies was Katrina, that took an unexpected turn, and didn't hit Florida after all, and instead dramatically impacted a beloved city to many.

This year, a late season storm missed Florida again though my niece Ellie took advantage of the giant storm's feeder bands for a spin around the neighborhood yesterday, while further up the East Coast we all prepared for the arrival of Hurricane Sandy.

Hurricanes definitely aren't second nature to us here, though 'events' certainly are, and yesterday seemed quintessentially  "New York" as little kids were out in full costume going to Halloween parties, and other people hitting bars and restaurants to stock up on social time out and being around a lot of people, two things we are very used to here.   Liquor stores were packed, stores were cleared out, with notable empty bread and salty snack aisles.  "There's not even chocolate donuts left," someone grumbled to me in line yesterday. 

Schools and offices sent closing notices yesterday, and our mighty public transportation artery of subways, buses, ferries and trains that powers a city of over 8 million people and greater metropolitan area over over 18 million people closed at 7 pm yesterday. Mayor Bloomberg issued mandatory evacuations for neighborhoods that might be flooded by tidal surge, and the stock market closed for the first time since September 11th in 2001. Atlantic City closed and the Jersey Shore evacuated. Governors in the Tri-State area had press conferences. Jim Cantore arrived on the scene.

Earlier today, the air was calm and still, and neighbors were outside with kids and dogs, getting some fresh air before the rain and wind arrives.  Friends and family sent texts and emails- New Yorkers checking in with one another in the city, others from around the country reacting to news and hoping for an easy storm.  I cooked while listening to early U2 and kept the Weather Channel off. 

So now we wait, a type A city that isn't good at "pause", waits.

 

Tribute in Light

I got home late this evening from a meeting and noticed the American flag hanging outside my building.  Of course the eleventh anniversary of September 11th was on my mind quite a lot this morning,  though from mid afternoon until evening I was in a meeting and got caught up with the business of the day. I had forgotten about it until seeing the flag outside, which isn't usually there.

Before walking into my building I looked up to see the twin pillars of light soaring upward from across the river, bending upward to the heavens.  I went up on the roof deck and looked west to lower Manhattan and paused for a few minutes just absorbing the profound beauty of the Tribute in Light.   

My downstairs neighbors were also the roof, having a glass of wine, just quietly looking across the harbor at the city and the light.  We spoke for a few minutes and had the same conversation that most New Yorkers who were here that day have on September 11th - where you were that day and what you saw.   "I can't believe it's been eleven years," one of my neighbors said.  I thought about how the lights remind us to never forget, and that life goes on. 

Apparently on clear nights like tonight, you can see the Tribute in Light over 60 miles away.  Whether it's a distant beacon or as intimate as across the river,  the lights also serve their most basic function - to illuminate the darkness.

Meet the Superheroes

The 2012 Summer Games are over, that finite period of time when there's a sharp contrast of night after night of exciting 'destination TV viewing' as we say in marketing,  better ads and inspiring examples of what it means to be an athlete .   Country pride gets a healthy and needed bump during this event, and for a brief period the world watches real life examples of the cause and effect of extreme focus, dedication and long time dreams coming true.

A couple weeks ago I was in Nova Scotia during the beginning of the games, watching some of the morning and evening viewing in "Olympic village' with some young athletes who happen to be my nieces and godchildren. Katy had announced she wanted to either go to the Olympics for volleyball or go to college on volleyball scholarship (or both).  Connor, who would set his alarm to be up early to first go on his computer to check overnight results and then watch the Canadian programming before NBC would begin morning coverage,  was keeping diligently keeping track of the stats for all events,  all athletes, all countries, while also  trying to narrow his focus to what sport he liked best.  Though, given his correspondence with an editor from Sports Illustrated, perhaps a future Olympic commentator?

Whether they are part of the 2016, 2020 or 2024 games, the impact of sports on their lives is positive and profound.

In case everyone is feeling withdrawal, please click the link to watch a promo for another athletic event this month.  For inspiration around how far you can go, perhaps the Summer Games were just a warm up?  Meet the Superheroes.

Highest and Best Use of Time

Yesterday was my one year anniversary of my 'new job', which of course after a year isn't so new anymore!

Though, like a birthday, or year-end celebration, it's an important marker of time.

I had dinner last night with a close friend in town from San Francisco and we were discussing life changes in the past 2-3 times we've seen each other, which have been many!

It's at the milestones we tend to think about the quickening of time, and the things we've done, or want to do, and reflect on the broad changes from a sequence of days.

After I got home, I received a very out of the blue text from another friend in California who reminded me of something my friend Dave used to say (and I think still continues to say to me):  "Make the highest and best use of your time."  

While I am not sure this was a coincidence, it's likely Dave's way of reminding me/all of us that when you look at a sequence of days, you have to first reanimate yourself around who and what you are spending your time on.

World Ocean Day

Tomorrow, June 8th, is World Ocean Day.  As someone who works in marketing, I'm aware there are many 'days' to celebrate (the goofiest one I ever heard of was 'Sandwich Day' which I believe Baggies helped to launch a few years ago).


World Ocean Day is another matter though.  Whether you are coastal or inland, whether the ocean represents food, income, playground or purely inspiration and wonder, the fact is we're all connected in one big eco-system.  Treasuring and protecting our oceans directly impacts us (and hundreds of thousands of species).

Happy World Ocean Day everyone.  And thank you to surf icon Kelly Slater for your support too!

Life Isn't Fair, but It's Still Good

I reread an essay earlier this week by Regina Brett, a journalist with the Cleveland Plain Dealer who wrote a column that her editor didn't like and almost didn't run, but ended up circulating the world many times over and eventually turned into a book.  She wrote a column about life lesson's, with the perspective that came after she successfully fought breast cancer.

A close friend was diagnosed with breast cancer this week, and as I was processing the news, needed a reminder that life is good even if it isn't fair sometimes.

As sometimes life is also sharply ironic, this morning I was talking with someone about a mutual person we know who isn't very happy.  Now, on the outside, if this person isn't happy, I'm not sure who is as he's someone who seems to 'have it all', the American dream turbo charged.  As we talked I couldn't help but think a bit angrily What else does he want?  What would do it?  He's not going to be dealing with breast cancer.  Though of course it's not more houses, more trips, more success,  I think the trick has to do with quality of heart.

Oprah Winfrey (do all roads lead to Oprah...?) once said that the single most important thing that changed her life was gratitude.   Perhaps it's the appreciation of the present moment that creates the shift, that focuses us on what we have, and not thinking about the past and the future, which come to us with no guarantees.

My friend's heart has always been in the right place so while she's going to be facing some health challenges, she has the right spirit and strength, and I know she deeply believes that life is good.  She'll be okay.  It's the other guy who I feel sorry for....

The Best Laid Plans

About a week ago, someone from the Today Show called, trying to research a potential story.  "When did Earth Day become Earth Week?"the producer asked.  I wasn't sure but assumed it had something to do with increased public awareness and therefore marketing. 


The original Earth Day was April 22, 1970, a day that led to the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency and landmark environmental policy laws such as the National Environmental Policy Act, The Clean Air Act, The Clean Water Act, The Endangered Species Act.   Forty two years later, Earth Day has come to symbolize the day (or week) we think about taking care of our planet.    

Earlier in the week I was able to tag along to some of our events including ringing the closing bell at the New York Stock Exchange, a panel on urban conservation, and a high profile speaking engagement for our CEO. 

But 'Superbowl Sunday' was yesterday, Earth Day.   Like many of our colleagues across the world we were planning a big Picnic for the Planet event to encourage people to just get outside and enjoy, and celebrate our planet home that gives us clean air, clean water and the food we eat. 

We planned a fun line up for the day, worked with event experts, developed a robust cross promotional plan, crossed all the t's and dotted the i's.   And hoped for "72 and Sunny"...

Though we've had amazingly lovely sunny spring days and a really mild winter, things turned yesterday and temperatures dropped to the high 40's, and we had a deluge of rain. 

I kept a smile plastered on my face, though it was hard not to be disappointed.   Earth Day was literally a wash.  And yet...

One of our bands, aptly named Sunny Weather, still rocked the picnic as if there was a crowd of thousands under the pavilion...

People kitted up in rain gear and layers and came out anyway....

Kids jumped in puddles, ran like cougars and 'Predator Olympics' went on...

And we danced.

Grass, trees, plants and many happy worm-seeking birds, were also in attendance and delighted for some needed rain, as of course Earth Day is really for everyone.   

As the band ended their set, the lead singer thanked everyone for coming,  and acknowledged that while it would have been great to have a warm sunny day:

"We're not in charge."

Happy Earth Day everyone.

"Boy, I got vision, and the rest of the world wears bifocals..."

I have a good friend from San Francisco (with a heart 10x the size of most) who, like a force of nature,  blows into town unexpectedly from time to time, always with some sort of fun happening and interesting people in her wake. 


As an example:  She's in town Monday and has extra tickets to the Paul Newman benefit tribute at Lincoln Center.  

(In addition to this being a good example about Lori, this is also how life actually moves in this fairytale called New York).


Paul Newman is in my top 'most admired' list.  Besides starring in my favorite film "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid", it was his benevolent nature that was even more attractive than his charm and blue eyed swagger. Acting seemed like a side gig; Paul's best performance art was showing us how to live.


His work with Newman's Own and the Hole in the Wall Gang is legendary, raising the bar for future generations of celebrities with a cause.  He was also a well known supporter of my organization, starring in a PSA that many still talk about.   He was the embodiment of "To whom much is given, much is expected...." 

A favorite quote of his:
"We are such spendthrifts with our lives, the trick of living is to slip on and off the planet with the least fuss you can muster. I’m not running for sainthood. I just happen to think that in life we need to be a little like the farmer, who puts back into the soil what he takes out.”

Listening to Others

My yoga teacher (whose blog I read regularly even if I'm not as regular in my practice) wrote a lovely post about being still and listening to yourself that you can read if you click this link.   


Yesterday I had the opportunity of listening to others, in what marketers call "focus groups."


In the private sector, focus groups are often conducted in different markets (cities), with moderated discussions probing consumer targets (select groups of people based on demographic or psychographic profiles, or some other measure) about a variety of things that may have to do with why they like brand X over brand Y, their opinions on certain product or service benefits,  impressions on new advertising creative, regional preferences and so on.   


Certain companies and brands who pride themselves on innovation may put less stock in 'consumer insights' learned from focus groups.  Steve Jobs famously said, "It's really hard to design products by focus groups. A lot of times, people don't know what they want until you show it to them."  


Though listening to focus groups about more mundane matters such as what brand of toothpaste they would purchase over another at a grocery store, or what might motivate them to change cell phone service providers can be interesting and revealing, because stopping to listen to what others think outside of your own organization always is.  


An often repeated quote from real life 'Mad Men' David Ogilvy, that has stood the test of time: "The consumer isn't a 'moron'; she is your wife."


Even more interesting to me was what I experienced yesterday: listening to people discuss why they personally decided to support a non-profit organization, why they might have decided to do this on a monthly basis, and why they might have been doing so for 20 to sometimes 30 plus years.    


I was sitting next to someone from the research department of a large ad agency and he said, "I have never listened to such an engaged focus group before."


I commented to one of my colleagues, "Some of these people have been giving to our organization longer than you have been alive."





Not every focus group is inspiring and humbling, but I think no matter what you are listening for, it's the 'why' that matters....

Here's to the Explorers!

While my day job is helping to get people to connect with, care about and ideally support our work in nature, most of the time my version of 'field work' is sitting at a desk in the concrete jungle, 16 floors up, dialing into webex conference calls and looking at powerpoints and white papers.


Last night I attended the premiere for Discovery Channel's amazing new "Frozen Planet" series which gives viewers a rare glimpse into a world they likely will never see, life at the North and South Pole.


Polar bears traveling miles in the frozen Arctic to find a mate (ahem, gives some perspective to 21st century dating life), seeing a forest that contains over a third of all trees on the planet and watching surfing penguins in Antarctica slip away from a hungry seal helped to remind me that the ends of the earth is full of incredible life, and how we're all connected to it. 


I left thinking about how challenging filming conditions must have been, and still not able to fully grasp how early explorers discovered these places, traveling by boat or on foot.


"Il faut aller voir - We must go and see for ourselves," said Jacques Cousteau.  


We all don't have it in us to be explorers, but their spirit of adventure and trailblazing discoveries continue to light up our lives, fill us with wonder and amazement, and just open up the world past our limited horizons. 


Sea World in San Diego brought in two penguins for the premiere, and I am still smitten from my face to face encounter with "Penny" and her shy little friend.  


So I'm off to work again, with meetings and budget discussions, but now have penguin cam to keep me connected with the joyful waddle of one of the millions of species who share our planet with us.

Live video from your Android device on Ustream

Feel the Force, Luke

Looking back, it's occurred to me that 'the right thing' tends to show up in my life, when I need it most, right on schedule. 


Of course this isn't typically my schedule (and I must suffer from amnesia as I always tend to forget this, and think that worrying about it is a much better idea) but the range of a chance viewing of a college brochure of a pretty campus on the shores of Lake Michigan in my high school guidance counselor's office to the new idea that suddenly pops in my head to even saying to a good friend in England when I lived in a small beach town in California "Oh I love it here, though wish I knew some people!" and finding out that her continental cousins somehow lived 10 blocks away...happens all the time.  


I've realize it's happened once again as I've been finding my way in my new job.  Seven months into things, I  absolutely love it in a 'meant to be' type of way, though it's very different than the type of work I've always done in the private sector, at fast moving agencies and small-mid sized companies.  For one thing, at an agency, you're 'done' when you've completed the task, whatever it is -- improved sales, gotten splashy PR coverage, helped get  new product distribution, made the client look good to his/her boss.  I remember once talking to a friend who is trader and he explained how his P&L essentially 'begins new' every day.  There's a similar sense of beginning and ending completion. 


At a mission oriented non-profit organization, you're never done.


There's also the difference of executive style leadership vs. a more legislative style, as noted in the terrific book 'Good to Great in the Social Sectors', and the sheer size of a global NGO that works in 35 countries, all 50 states, with 2,000 projects going on around the globe any given time, with many priorities, long term objectives and strategies.  It's a lot to wrap your head around.


Somehow though, the 'right thing' showed up once again though in the form of a board member who has become a true marketing mentor, something I've realized I've never actually had.   As fate would have it, this board member, who I will call "Sam", is a very accomplished professional, and also in between positions, so for the past few months I've had the gift of working with him instead of a passing hello at board meetings four times a year.   


When Sam and I talk, it's the focused clarity that comes when Obi-Wan Kenobi speaks with young Skywalker, his Jedi apprentice.   Here's the path.  


I'm thankful for the gift of 'the right thing' that has shown up, once again.  


And for some of my readers who are in between days, perhaps waiting for that 'right thing' to show up, there's also the thought that like Sam, you may be someone else's 'right thing'....

Continuing to Disrupt...

The Facebook group of friends and family connected to my friend Dave, is still pretty active, 3 plus years later.  The posts come in waves.   Sometimes they're generated by the triggers, like what happened to me last Friday.    


Sometimes it's when old things are are suddenly found again...


Bonnie posted tonight:
"Just found some "truisms" that Dave posted outside our tiny work space at the Disruption Consultancy. So worth another look!"

a little knowledge can go a long way 
a name means a lot just by itself 
a sense of timing is the mark of genius 
a single event can have infinitely many interpretations 
decadence can be an end in itself 
everything that's interesting is new
if you can't leave your mark give up
just believing something can make it happen 
lack of charisma can be fatal 
people are boring unless they are extremists 
playing it safe can cause a lot of damage in the long run
push yourself to the limit as often as possible 
revolution  
symbols are more meaningful than things themselves
taking a strong stand publicizes the opposite position 
you must disagree with authority figures 
your actions are pointless if no one notices

Sign of the Times

As anyone who has ever lost a close friend will tell you, it's not necessarily the big milestones (birthdays, anniversary of passing) that trip you up, it's the random day to day moments when something you do, say, or hear happens,  and the only person you really want to talk to about it is them.


This happened to me Friday when I was going to a meeting at the new REI flagship in Soho.  I was rushing from the subway and suddenly looked up and blinked a few times in the bright winter sun when I realized it was in the Puck Building in Soho.

The new REI store is amazing, it's like walking into a slice of Boulder, and since its opening in mid December has been a magnet for a community of outdoor and nature loving New Yorkers.  From a work perspective, I had stumbled upon 'my target audience.'


Though it's a sign of the times, and one that made me miss my friend, the debunker, the high beam on the dark road.  Dave always made us laugh while also so accurately interpreting 'what this means' from a larger social commentary perspective. 


The Puck Building used to be the HQ of SPY Magazine, an iconic social satire magazine that existed in the late 80's to 90's, that finally folded in the late 90's when the age of irony seemed to end.  90's martini drinking and laughing about Donald Trump antics and what celebrity was 'separated from birth' from was no longer funny, and we ushered in an era of Real News, fear and earnestness.  


In New York part 1, I spent a good portion of the mid to late 90's in Soho, working for a funny, edgy, fiercely independent ad agency, where I first met my friend Dave, who passed away three years ago.  This was when Soho wasn't a corporate mall, when we hadn't sold the company,  when everyone I worked with kept the bar very high on 'great creative' as the top priority.  


Different time, different place...  


I did love the new REI store, and felt that it's part of an overall "New York is getting better" wave, though all day I missed hearing what Dave would say about it. 

He might say, something he often said to me about California, "It's right for the way you're living today." 

Or he might say,  what he also often said, and how he continues to still influence us:


"Just go have an adventure!"