Grieving is a curious experience. I find myself feeling sad and tired. And then I find myself wanting to reach out and go for the gusto—do the things I’ve always wanted to do, go the places I’ve always wanted to go, live life to the fullest.
And in the process of telling stories, listening to stories, asking and answering questions, new stories emerge and lives are changed.
What’s wrong with being right is that we can’t always know what’s really right. And if we’re too concerned with being right, we lose sight of just living our lives.
“One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go‑o‑o‑o.” It’s a counting game that somehow seems to fit our ideas about showing our work as artists.
In the midst of all the gloom and doom, it’s artists who tell it like it is, and also get really creative about new possibilities. It’s artists who help us see the world and ourselves in new light.
Being acknowledged or thanked for doing something helpful or nice adds to the quality of the exchange. Makes the effort a little more worthwhile.
Perhaps the best way to be fully human is to experience the richness of life—the good, the bad, and the ugly. As sad as I am to watch dear friends wind down their lives, I’m equally grateful for the richness and grace that their lives have added to mine.
We all do things sometimes that make us feel stupid. But after we get past wondering how much “more stupider” we could possibly be, we find that risking failure is a way toward exploration, creativity, and innovation.
Being helpful is great, except when it’s not. I’ve taken on some big jobs that in retrospect were other people’s projects. What I notice—mostly in retrospect—is that they were not my projects.
A few weeks ago, an odd series of experiences reminded me of the power of attention to change the way we see the world around us. [Guest post by Edward F. Gumnick]