<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:08:43.017-06:00</updated><category term='puppy bordercollie mountainbernese'/><category term='Transition'/><category term='Joseph Campbell'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='Icarus'/><category term='grief death gratitude thanksgiving angelesarrien empowerment spirituality'/><category term='mothering'/><category term='Change'/><category term='prophecy'/><category term='inauguration'/><category term='ron todd'/><category term='Steven Covey'/><category term='creativity'/><category term='Recession'/><category term='2012'/><category term='Daedalus'/><category term='Humor'/><category term='Spring'/><category term='Parvati'/><category term='Audience Segment'/><category term='Facebook'/><category term='emerging'/><category term='healing'/><category term='mother&apos;s day'/><category term='Robin Sharma'/><category term='teachers'/><category term='greek mythology'/><category term='sickness'/><category term='storytelling'/><category term='politics'/><category term='caregiver'/><category term='2010'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='Tips'/><category term='valentines day'/><category term='Profiles'/><category term='James Redfield'/><category term='path with heart'/><category term='self help'/><category term='Indian goddess'/><category term='obama'/><category term='hindu mythology'/><category term='natasha richardson'/><category term='david whyte'/><category term='Resolutions'/><category term='resurrection'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='work life balance'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='mentors'/><category term='Choices'/><category term='health'/><category term='love'/><category term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>Brown Girl In the Ring</title><subtitle type='html'>Thank you for stopping by.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-6015142959962447205</id><published>2010-12-01T13:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T13:13:10.266-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief death gratitude thanksgiving angelesarrien empowerment spirituality'/><title type='text'>On Grief, Gratitude and a tribute to the ancestors</title><content type='html'>It was an intense November, to put it mildly, juxtaposed with themes of grief and gratitude. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we found out my mother in law died in her sleep, we experienced deep sadness and regret. To me as I thought of her life and how she led it, I was struck by her refusal to be cowed down by the Indian stereotype of a widow who needed to be under a man's protection to survive. She raised her boys, she built her home, she battled breast cancer and won, she lived her life through its ups and downs on her own terms. My clearest memory of her was at her home in Delhi basking in the winter sun on her patio with a few of her friends drinking chai while giving instructions to the electrician to fix the phone, telling the vegetable vendor that his vegetables were not so fresh and having a side conversation with the tenant about his water problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She became, over time the architect of her own life. As I mused about that, I realized that power is not something that is granted to us through our titles, our degrees, our marital or economic status. Those are temporary manifestations that don't stay when you lose your job, or go through a divorce or suffer from financial setbacks. Inner power is about the conviction that you are the driver and you own your route. To be able to own your failures as gracefully as you embrace your success. Setting boundaries, refusing to be cowed down and understanding that you have a right to ask for what you deserve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later, my lovely friend and neighbor had a heart attack and when she was in ER, they discovered she had invasive cancer which had apparently led to the stroke. 36 hours later, Hypatia was no longer with us. Those of us who knew her were shocked at the callous way Death decided to claim her. She was 55. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended a beautiful service last Saturday that our neighbors, Katy and Jim organized. As we stood remembering Hypatia, we thought of her varied interests, of people she touched, of kindness, compassion, gentleness and authenticity. Hypatia had a masters in Architecture and at some point in her early years developed a profound interest in vedic astrology. She was one of those rare individuals who was whole brained. She had no problem accepting and embracing her right and her left brain. Seeking to dismiss neither as lesser or greater. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I would go on long walks with her rescue dog, Ruga and discuss everything including the moon, the stars and the planets. I remember discussing Facebook with her and telling her "Hypatia, you have to join FB and have a forum to discuss your thoughts on these subjects." She did join FB. She used it sporadically. Towards the last few weeks, she was in incredible pain. Strangely, her beloved dog died a week before she did. I still expect both of them to walk down my pathway expecting to go for a long walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She taught me about the courage required to be authentic. No matter who is pushing your buttons to conform, you can stay on your path and continue to weave in the patterns in your life. Life unfolds like a painting which is never completed till we draw that last breath and the colors shine or dim depending on who we invite, share, care, dare, envy, touch, fear or love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twas November and gratitude ran through the veins of the month as families and friends congregated celebrating Diwali, Eid or Thanksgiving in different parts of the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this beautiful tribute from &lt;a href="http://www.angelesarrien.org/"&gt;Angeles Arrien's website&lt;/a&gt; that I have included in this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessed be for those who have been here on earth and those who still claim a physical presence. For nothing ever dies as long as we keep it alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Tribute to the Ancestors&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the rising of the sun and it's going down,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;In the glowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;In the opening of buds and the rebirth of spring,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning of the year and when it ends,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;When we are weary and in need of strength,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;When we are lost and sick at heart,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;When we have joys we yearn to share,&lt;br /&gt;We remember them.&lt;br /&gt;So long as we live, they too shall live, &lt;br /&gt;for they are now a part of us,&lt;br /&gt;As we remember them. &lt;br /&gt;-- A Jewish Prayer, From a Rabbi's Manual&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-6015142959962447205?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/6015142959962447205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-grief-gratitude-and-tribute-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6015142959962447205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6015142959962447205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-grief-gratitude-and-tribute-to.html' title='On Grief, Gratitude and a tribute to the ancestors'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-4295382153059300411</id><published>2010-08-07T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T11:17:45.316-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='puppy bordercollie mountainbernese'/><title type='text'>The Lanie Chronicles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/TF2F9tAg1UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/5GlevRGpX8E/s1600/Lanie7weeks.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/TF2F9tAg1UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/5GlevRGpX8E/s320/Lanie7weeks.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Happiness is a warm puppy ~ Charles Schultz&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Yes, that's right. Status updates, pictures and now the note. And more to follow. I agree, we are not the first to get a puppy. Many have paved the path and stores like PetSmart and PetCo make a living charging $10 for a plastic chew toy that is very often ignored by its customers and bling doggie accessories that can dent that wallet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I yielded to tremendous family pressure, including tears, tantrums, accusations including one that insinuated that I hated all animals, I had no choice. My back was literally pushed to the proverbial wall and this ever moving deadline of "we will adopt a pet in six months" finally caught up with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven years of relentless persistence had finally taken its toll. I must tell you, if you didn't know this, that children are like elephants. They may conveniently forget any promises they make but will remember yours and hang on to it like a life boat in shark infested waters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three girls, a full time job and all the curve balls life throws at you isn't exactly the right time to add another member to the family. But life is elastic. Your capacity is elastic. Just like your love can contain a few or contain many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June had caught up with us and I kid you not, the only topic of conversation, morning, noon and night was THE DOG. My daughters would put up reminders on the fridge, on the wall calendar, sms messages and even sent a calendar invite. We went to the pound a few times. Registered and talked to the counselors there. Spoke to friends and family and scouted online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put up a status update and my friend Deb told me about Debbie Lloyd and her wonderful program for autistic families and mentioned that her three dogs just had three litters. Pups needing homes. We saw Lanie hanging out with her siblings and cuddling with her mom, a gorgeous Border Collie/Pyrenees mix and it was love at first sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I want another baby that would pee and poop and whine at night? No. Had been there done that three times. Did I want to train another to obey the rules of the house. No. Been there, doing that and not sure it works some days. Did I need another who needed vaccines and tests. No. Hate those sterile clinics and waiting to be told about dangerous diseases that can get them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here we are again. Little Lanie, puppy of mine who could pass for a baby panda. Lanie who is now chewing on my hand as we speak because those expensive chew toys are not doing it for her. Lanie who has a free flow bladder and an affinity for carpets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawl, walk, run...Lanie. Just be gentle on me, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-4295382153059300411?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/4295382153059300411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/08/lanie-chronicles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4295382153059300411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4295382153059300411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/08/lanie-chronicles.html' title='The Lanie Chronicles'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/TF2F9tAg1UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/5GlevRGpX8E/s72-c/Lanie7weeks.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-4925415563811192373</id><published>2010-06-07T00:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T20:00:38.137-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emerging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creativity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>If Not Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img height="150" src="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/My%20Pictures/ripples%20brainwave.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;picture courtesy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fotosearch.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;www.fotosearch.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you hanker &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;While it spreads &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Like a canker &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Within your soul &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sending ripples &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Of unease &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That ricochet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Never to cease &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Incubating &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Absorbing &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The starving embryo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grows &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In need &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In want &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A time to gestate &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A time to be reborn &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The hungry ghost &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cannot be appeased &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With stories &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Of conformity &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If not now, when &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If not you, then who &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's not later &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's not them&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;---Shaku Selvakumar© 2010&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-4925415563811192373?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/4925415563811192373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-not-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4925415563811192373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4925415563811192373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-not-now.html' title='If Not Now'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-4766503626722743927</id><published>2010-05-10T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T16:40:23.604-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Icarus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daedalus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='greek mythology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Icarus In Flight</title><content type='html'>&lt;img height="200" src="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/My%20Pictures/The_Lament_For_Icarus.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Picture courtesy Herbert James Draper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wondered&lt;br /&gt;About the road ahead&lt;br /&gt;It twists and turns&lt;br /&gt;It craves and burns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wondered &lt;br /&gt;About the flight of the Dead&lt;br /&gt;Where do souls converge&lt;br /&gt;In oneness or splintered to return instead &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wondered&lt;br /&gt;About the colour of Love&lt;br /&gt;Is it green, or black, is it blue &lt;br /&gt;Or blood, a reprieve of a fearless vow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wondered &lt;br /&gt;About the path of Dreams&lt;br /&gt;Lifting, soaring, flailing, crashing&lt;br /&gt;Breathing barely, fearing a requiem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wondered &lt;br /&gt;About the burden of Stones&lt;br /&gt;Gathering, growing, &lt;br /&gt;Silently groaning waiting to be thrown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I wander&lt;br /&gt;Through rows of Marigold&lt;br /&gt;Wading in murky waters&lt;br /&gt;Looking for Lotuses to unfold &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who dared the Sun&lt;br /&gt;And touched the Sky&lt;br /&gt;The Gods did he slight&lt;br /&gt;To be Icarus on his flight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Shaku Selvakumar© 2010&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-4766503626722743927?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/4766503626722743927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/05/icarus-in-flight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4766503626722743927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4766503626722743927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/05/icarus-in-flight.html' title='Icarus In Flight'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-4595962052619136882</id><published>2010-05-09T01:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T16:44:41.993-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother&apos;s day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mothering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caregiver'/><title type='text'>Happy Mothering Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="file:///C:/Documents and Settings/Administrator/My Documents/My Pictures/mother.jpg" width="250" height="200"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Got back from Vegas where billboards promised pleasures untold. Huge hotels kept their occupants in the dark, addicted to casino tables, night clubs and other entertainment so they would lose track of time. Was it morning, noon or night…did anyone care. The conference was successful and a few days later, I was happy to be back home. Back to springtime in green Central Texas in time to celebrate Mothers Day weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;As you know thoughts are like clouds, they start as a puff, they grow, they disperse, they morph, they shapeshift. I started thinking of all the wonderful mothers out there and like that cloud, it changed to the concept of mothering. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Growing up, I took my mother for granted. Even today, I take her for granted. Something I shouldn't do, I know but I view the love of my near and dear like sunshine. I wake up and I expect a sunrise. I wake up and I expect my mom's love to be there, constant and always present. She lives in Madras (yes you know, I can't call it Chennai...I am trying hard) and we talk weekly or should I say, she talks and I listen. Mom's talks are filled with family news, with loads of advice about my girls and more advice on how I should take more calcium for my bone density. She always says "Just like your girls come first for you, you come first for me. If you don't take care of yourself, you can't take care of anyone else." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;We then spoke about my sister who just had her third baby, a beautiful boy, on May 2 who decided he couldn't wait till the agreed date. Babies don't give mothers any advance notice about their arrival. Despite the doctor and the parents deciding on a convenient date and time, they look at their own schedule and decide when to make their arrival. Some are early, some are late and those few considerate ones, are on time. When I spoke to her this morning, she was cheerful as a lark despite the lack of sleep and planning gone awry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Though Mother's day is special and it means that our kids and partners and others will raise a toast to us, it need not be gender specific and confined to the role of child bearing or rearing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Mothering is defined as "to give birth to; create and produce; to watch over, nourish, and protect maternally". I think of my friend Elizabeth Mendoza, who is a nurse who does this everyday. I think of Diana who helps foster families. I think of Kristen, Hypatia and Poonam who mother all their friends. I think of my friends who mother their pets and take in strays. I think of Karen who mothers her girl scout troop. I think of my friends who mother me from all over the world. I think of teachers who mother their students. I think of others who mother their god children, their nephews, nieces and volunteer as big brothers and sisters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Most of all, I admire the men out there who push away the world's view of machismo and have no qualms about showing their gentler side. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;To quote Oprah, &lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;It is not just the hand that rocks the cradle that rules the world.&amp;nbsp; It is also the hand that is held out that moves the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Mothering Day!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-4595962052619136882?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/4595962052619136882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-mothering-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4595962052619136882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4595962052619136882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-mothering-day.html' title='Happy Mothering Day'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-3237527343483247550</id><published>2010-04-26T21:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T23:55:46.769-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teachers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mentors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>On Starfish, Teachers and Appreciation</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="250" width="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9nZkq31J-GY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9nZkq31J-GY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="250" height="250"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;This note is dedicated to my beautiful aunt whose fight with the deadly cancer ended today.&amp;nbsp; May her soul rest in peace.&amp;nbsp; She was a wonderful mother, a devoted wife, a considerate aunt and along with the family she loved, she was a teacher for 30 years.&amp;nbsp; As was my grand mother and my grand aunt.&amp;nbsp; Women who taught and left&amp;nbsp;an impression&amp;nbsp;in so many hearts.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/bridesmaid.html"&gt;"Do we ever die, if we can touch one life, change one destiny, inspire one verse."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;This post is&amp;nbsp;about celebrating the legacy left behind by these teachers&amp;nbsp;who have spent their lives throwing so many starfish back into the sea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Coincidently, next week is Teacher’s Appreciation week at my daughters’ schools. A wonderful concept and so well deserved. PTAs have spent time pulling together a schedule to show their teachers that they are truly loved. We will have flowers, lunches, handmade cards and other little tokens.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;As I see my girls in their different stages of growth, I can remember the teacher who told me not to worry that&amp;nbsp;my eldest&amp;nbsp;was so shy. “She will find her way” she reassured. “And I will be there to make things better.” I remember&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;second one&amp;nbsp;crying when her favorite teacher, Ms Plevich, left school and my little girl was so angry that “she had to get married and move away”. I remember&amp;nbsp;the youngest naming two pillows after Ms Lana and Ms Maribel and talking to them at night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;I can also go down memory lane and like Dumbledore taking a wisp out of his Pensieve, see Ms Carter igniting the love of literature in my heart. Of course, I wince when I think of Mr Delaney’s tiring Math classes on Monday mornings but there was drama and debate and Pierette Spetz’s passionate French classes that kept me spellbound. Indian teachers, American teachers, British teachers…the good ones left footprints in my heart. Some would push us to reach for the stars.&amp;nbsp; Like beacons and in Gandhi’s words, they helped “turn the spotlight inward.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;If you were paying attention and listening to the clues, some very apparent and some subtle, you experienced an “aha”. Seeing talent and potential that we couldn't yet grasp. The good teachers would take time to write in your report cards. Little notes on your strengths and areas you could improve upon. I didn’t appreciate those notes when I was younger. I would get irritated that someone dared find fault. Oh, the arrogance and impatience of youth. As Jacques Barzun so aptly puts it “In teaching you cannot see the fruit of a day's work. It is invisible and remains so, maybe for twenty years.” Or more…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;In India, the role of the teacher used to be sacred. Highly revered, teachers or gurus held sway even over kings. And in the order of the universe, they occupied a place of prominence. &lt;em&gt;Mata, Pita, Guru, Deivam&lt;/em&gt;…Mother, Father, Teacher, God. Gurus demanded complete faith and obedience in return for knowledge and enlightenment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Many of us have been mentored or been "guru-ed" at some stage or another. People who have come into our lives.&amp;nbsp;To teach, to guide, to ignite and to lead by example. You can immediately recognize a mentor at an instinctual level. There is a keen desire to listen, to absorb like a sponge, whatever you can.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course, the opposite is true as well where unhealthy relationships are characterized by an over dependence on a mentor. Here you feel paralyzed, unable to take decisions without their express approval. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;When you strike gold, you find good mentors who are there to untap potential and provide a feedback loop so critical for development. And when their work is done, they move on naturally. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;So here’s to teachers and mentors…may your clan increase. And may we close the loop by passing it forward. Salutations!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;“The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Kahlil Gibran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-3237527343483247550?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/3237527343483247550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/04/on-starfish-teachers-and-appreciation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3237527343483247550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3237527343483247550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/04/on-starfish-teachers-and-appreciation.html' title='On Starfish, Teachers and Appreciation'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-7746555501391320139</id><published>2010-04-10T00:43:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T10:45:42.000-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Joseph Campbell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steven Covey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robin Sharma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='James Redfield'/><title type='text'>Seven for Spring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_fbqV6BHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DnIO8_l31C8/s1600-h/Big+Bend+2007+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260168556107662450" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_fbqV6BHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DnIO8_l31C8/s320/Big+Bend+2007+076.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;The idea for this post originated on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt; which I recently likened to my virtual living room. It started simply enough last week. After visiting mail jail again, I put an update out that went something like this "Don't be an email hoarder. Junk those emails that are more than 6 months old. It aint relevant no more." Soon my friends were commenting and I thought hey maybe there are more tips out there. Here are Shaku's Magnificent Seven as my limerick loving friend, Manjul puts it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #1 &lt;br /&gt;Keep what is important throw away the rest. Or the trivial will make all what is important trivial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;As I had to start clearing out emails from years past, I was horrified to find out that I was a secret email hoarder. These emails that were jamming my inbox and my outbox about things that nobody even cared about. Though I tried to have folders, I realized that if you don't clear regularly, you end up cramming your life with so much that is trivial that you lose sight of what is important. This applies from emails, to tasks, to meetings, to lists, to pantries, to refrigerators. I love the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.stephencovey.com/7habits/7habits.php"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Stephen Covey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;big rock little pebble analogy. Attend to the important and the trivial will sort itself. Ask that question. Is this important? Should I waste XX time over this. Is this argument important or is it trivial. Can I let it go? Do I have to add another after school activity for my kids, can we not just focus on a select few. Once you decide, make peace with the decision. I was watching &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.robinsharma.com/leadership_blog_603.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Robin Sharma's vlog &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;and he says that every year his team decides on what they should focus on and then even if opportunties come by they get tough and only pick up what aligns with their focus areas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #2&lt;br /&gt;Apply the 70:30 relationship principle. Spend 70% of your time with the 30% who matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;This is so simple, right. So how come we have trouble applying this principle. I know some folks who make this a priority. Others think they have all the time in the world. Growing up, all I remember is my Dad telling us that we were the most important people in his life and that he was happy spending his time after work with us. Of course, that meant that we would get dragged to all these boring parties with people who would peer at us and say "Oh Selva, what charming daughters you have." or "So when are you getting her married." Like I was some invisible object waiting to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. But, the point is, he made it clear that there were a few people who were important to him and that was that. We all know about Harry Chapin and the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zH46SmVv8SU"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Cat's in the Cradle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;. "When you comin home, Dad." "I don't know when. But we'll get together then, son. You know we'll have a good time then." Who, why, when and where. You and in the now with those you love because time flies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #3&lt;br /&gt;Make friends with yourself. If you don't enjoy your own company then why should anyone else be interested in you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Ask yourself this key question. If you had one hour to spend. Would you spend it doing nothing or rushing off to make a phone call, picking up groceries or making a long to do list that made you feel good. Of course, you have to do all the things you have to do. Or bills would be unpaid, careers floating in the toilet bowl, dishes piled up, laundry languishing in the dryer etc. Yes, yes, I know. Been there, doing that and keep doing that everyday. But do you seek yourself out. Do you enjoy just sitting down and allowing your mind to roam. To think, to understand. To replay your reactions to certain incidents. Take a ten minute walk alone everyday. If you can't walk, then go out and sit in a quiet space. Lock yourself in your closet. You don't need to close your eyes and Om. You just need to get one step to understanding yourself and your motivations. Why, because understanding yourself brings you one step closer to understanding your reactions to others. When you do that constantly you will stop being on the defensive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #4 &lt;br /&gt;Let go of toxic emotional cellulite. Get rid of &lt;b&gt;BAG&lt;/b&gt;gage. Bitterness | Anger | Guilt. Travel light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;This one belongs to a good friend of mine. Rules of engagement for relationships. Like that Katy Perry song, hot and you're cold, up and you're down. We fight we make up, we kiss we break up. This is true for most relationships. Friends, family, lovers. Over the years we have accumulated so much emotional cellulite that sits like a camel's hump on your back. This cellulite is a living, breathing alien that is made up of bitterness, anger, guilt, jealousy and it is dormant and when you least expect it, it will send out a volley of spite. How do you break regular cellulite, by regular exercise, eating right and it takes time, but at some point your body starts to show the results. With emotional cellulite you have to pretty much do the same. You make a conscious effort to trace the affected areas. Recognition is key. Awareness. Followed by honesty. You have own it and then shield, forgive and love. Forgive yourself and ask for forgiveness and then let it go. Every day is a new day to do it differently. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #5&lt;br /&gt;Recall faded dreams and unused gifts. Plant new seeds of possibility. Doesn't Spring symbolize resurrection?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;This one is my personal favorite. I was wandering in my garden discovering new plants and amazed at how quickly growth took place with branches sprouting green. I felt like Jack waking up to that overnight beanstalk. You go for a walk and you see more people smile at you because that is what fairweather brings with it. Spring, flirting birds, blue skies and butterflies make people happy. Just like nature is resurrecting around us, this is fertile soul environment to start something new. Plant a project dear to your heart in the garden of your heart. Invest in it and feel the emotional wellness. The common thread is people saying well I don't really know what I like or what I want to do. But if you go to tip # 3 and spend some time with yourself you will figure it out sooner than you think. There is something that each one of us will do before we tackle the mundane tasks in our lives. For me, I am sitting here on a Friday night, writing. Some like scrapbooking, other's want to open their own restaurant, others want to play in a band. So you may not be able to fund a restaurant, perhaps you join a cooking club. You may not have time to play in a band, perhaps you could learn an instrument. Or you may decide to leap and follow, like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://marthabeck.com/blog/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Martha Beck &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;would say, your North Star.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #6&lt;br /&gt;Go 3D. Drop the entitlement. Defend your boundaries. Deny energy vampires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;The problem with entitlement is that makes us all a bunch of whiners. It is quite tiring to hang around people who constantly expect to be served a slice of some imaginary pie that was supposed to be baked by someone else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;We have heard this many times and we still let people invade our boundaries. We end up getting into a loop where they invade, we submit and then we complain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;What can I say about energy vampires that hasn't been stated so many times. These aren't even Edward Cullen cute. You don't have to wear garlic around your neck but you do have to figure out the Debbie downers and disengage. According to James Redfield and his ground breaking novel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Celestine_Prophecy"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;The Celestine Prophecy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;, we typically steal energy from each other engaging in four key control dramas. So ask yourself, are you dealing with a "poor me" or "the aloof" or "the critic" or "the intimidator". Each one has a way of drawing energy and each encounter will leave you tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Spring cleaning tip #7&lt;br /&gt;Create and own your personal mantra. If you want it, chant it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Find a quiet spot and create your affirmation to bring renewed energy to that area of your life that needs a makeover. I can't tell you how many times, I have written it down and let it go. A year would have passed and when I go back and read it, I am always amazed at the gifts that have come to pass. Say you want to sell your house, write down exactly what you want from the sale. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;But there has to be a clause that is part of every mantra that you ask for it to be aligned to your greatest good. Many times we can't see the bigger picture. We can only see the present because the past is over and we are not meant to peek into the future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;There is a common link across the wisdom of ages, that you have to align with the passion for life.&amp;nbsp; Nature resurrects every spring.&amp;nbsp; Demeter goes insane looking for Persephone during winter and finds her and rejoices in Spring.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She unveils her Spring masterpiece every year...without demur, without fanfare, without complaint, without resistance, without judgement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;When you do what you do just because you enjoy it, that is the spark that sets off a chain reaction. The more you fret about what everyone thinks of you, the less you are able to trust yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;This quote from &lt;b&gt;Joseph Campbell &lt;/b&gt;sums it up so well &lt;i&gt;"&lt;a href="http://www.jcf.org/new/index.php?categoryid=31"&gt;When you go through life ... it all seems accidental at the time it is happening. Then when you get on in your 60s or 70s and look back, your life looks like a well-planned novel with a coherent theme. Incidents that seemed accidental, pure chance, turn out to be major elements in the structuring of this novel. Who wrote this novel? You did."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-7746555501391320139?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/7746555501391320139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/04/seven-for-spring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/7746555501391320139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/7746555501391320139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/04/seven-for-spring.html' title='Seven for Spring'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_fbqV6BHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DnIO8_l31C8/s72-c/Big+Bend+2007+076.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-3503272324724286355</id><published>2010-04-07T08:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T10:38:42.846-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resurrection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parvati'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Indian goddess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hindu mythology'/><title type='text'>Parvati</title><content type='html'>I walked into the fire&lt;br /&gt;Before I was born again&lt;br /&gt;The heat was searing&lt;br /&gt;But the heart knew no pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I would return&lt;br /&gt;To finish what I started&lt;br /&gt;Seeking you out&lt;br /&gt;Offering my worship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning anger to love&lt;br /&gt;Chaos contained&lt;br /&gt;Fury tamed&lt;br /&gt;Balance regained&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shiva and Shakti&lt;br /&gt;Wisdom and Strength&lt;br /&gt;Osiris and Isis&lt;br /&gt;Birth and Rebirth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That destiny&lt;br /&gt;Is a thought&lt;br /&gt;A primeval energy&lt;br /&gt;A dream&lt;br /&gt;A priority&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am devotion&lt;br /&gt;Creation&lt;br /&gt;Destruction&lt;br /&gt;Celebration&lt;br /&gt;Your salvation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Parvati, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parvati"&gt;The Daughter Of the Mountain King &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Shaku Selvakumar© 2009&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-3503272324724286355?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/3503272324724286355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/04/parvati.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3503272324724286355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3503272324724286355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/04/parvati.html' title='Parvati'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-8188564646046518258</id><published>2010-03-13T20:51:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T21:05:24.920-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sickness'/><title type='text'>In Sickness and In Health</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;First week of March and there was the promise of spring in the air. I was looking forward to attending SXSW and mingling with all the cool folks whose tweets lit up the twitterstream.&amp;nbsp; I was fine...happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;So the pain that hit me last weekend didn't make any sense. Like most folks out there, I don't like pain but I am also stubborn when it comes to medication. I would rather let the pain simmer like a rich stew on the burner before doing something about it. It is almost like this dialogue I have in my head. Is it hurting? Must you fix it? Can't it go away on its own? Of course, you are probably shaking your head right now and thinking what the heck is wrong with you, woman. Just take an Advil and get it over with. Well I did, when I couldn't stand anymore. There is also another funny thing about our bodies and pain. We find the best position to take to deal with the pain. I found that the best position is curling in a fetal position. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;The alarm goes off at 6 am on Monday so another wonderful school and work week can kick into high gear. You know the drill, get the breakfast, holler "wake up" three times and then yell WAKE UP NOW or ELSE, check off all the little details till the kids board the bus. That morning I couldn't go vertical and I think uh oh... I call the clinic and say I need to see my doctor. Something is getting ready to burst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love these clinics. You walk in stooped and ashen and you sit in a waiting room and look around. Everyone there would rather be somewhere else. Everyone there is thinking I would give anything to be healthy. Everyone there is waiting to take a test and get the results. Everyone there wants a quick fix. Just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is in sickness, a new found humility. Suddenly you are aware that this body of yours, this exquisite, intricate well oiled machine that you take for granted everyday is prone to age. As you wait you promise yourself that you will take better care of yourself. You will exercise more, eat better and worry less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without going TMI here, the doctor orders a few tests, throws words out like biopsy and cyst, talks about surgery on Thursday or Friday and I sadly kiss SXSW goodbye. Fast forward Friday, I am talking to a pleasant nurse who has just moved to Austin and a cheerful anaesthetist who has lived in Austin for 26 years. I am told I will be woozy after the medication has worn off and not to sign any legal document for 24 hours. So before I am wheeled out, I make a pact with my maker. I pray that I will turn over a new leaf and take better care of my body and spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All goes well thankfully and we come home as I am drifting in and out of a deep sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To net it out, life does happen. Sickness happens and mostly without warning. However, I do believe that some ailments can be prevented through an increased awareness of the correlation between the physical ailment and the emotional state. To treat the illness you have to look at both symptoms. When I need a sanity check, I dip into Louise Hay's bestseller, You can heal yourself. Here is a sample on some ailments and the associated emotional blockage.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anxiety: &lt;/b&gt;Not trusting the flow and the process of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Back problems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;--Lower Fear of money. Lack of financial support&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;--Middle Guilt. Stuck in all that stuff back there. "Get off my back"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;--Upper Lack of emotional support. Feeling unloved. Holding back love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Callouses:&lt;/strong&gt; Hardened concepts and ideas. Fear solidified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fever:&lt;/strong&gt; Anger. Burning up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Laryngitis&lt;/b&gt;: So mad you can't speak. Fear of speaking up. Resentment of authority&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stomach problems&lt;/b&gt;: Dread and fear of the new. Inability to assimilate the new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;As I write this, I am trying to figure out my symptoms so it can stay away and not come back another day.&amp;nbsp; I also remember proudly telling my manager, I didn't take any sick leave last year.&amp;nbsp; I may not have taken sick leave but I do remember feeling&amp;nbsp;run down&amp;nbsp;when December came along.&amp;nbsp; Now, I tend to think that sick leave should not be used when you fall sick rather when you feel like you might fall sick if you don't stop and take a break.&amp;nbsp; It could be that one day of rest could avoid a weakened state resulting in a week of bed rest.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Me, I can't wait to get off these painkillers and out of bed and go for a long long walk. That Austin sun, those blue skies and the hint of Spring cannot be enjoyed indoors.&amp;nbsp; As for SXSW, I guess 2011 might just be my year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;"It's no coincidence that four of the six letters in health are "heal." ~Ed Northstrum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-8188564646046518258?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/8188564646046518258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-sickness-and-in-health.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8188564646046518258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8188564646046518258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-sickness-and-in-health.html' title='In Sickness and In Health'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-8816778338336852067</id><published>2010-02-27T00:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T01:03:47.671-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><title type='text'>The ROI for Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S4iYQ94uhMI/AAAAAAAAAFA/N_eLjuotDi8/s1600-h/sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 303px; height: 289px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S4iYQ94uhMI/AAAAAAAAAFA/N_eLjuotDi8/s320/sunset.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442767566935065794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a workshop this week and enjoyed all the learning that came my way.  It was facilitated by two instructors who partnered well despite their diametrically different teaching styles . Phil was a slim second generation American Chinese and Bill was a retired booming alpha male with a Donald Trump personality sans the hairpiece. Could almost hear the "You are fired" echo in the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked in expecting a sedate, boring class where I could possibly open up my laptop and keep working through class.  I ended up pleasantly surprised and learning about corporate finance, despite my knee jerk reaction to fiscal prudence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not easy to talk to middle management.  They are a bit jaded and tend to feel that they do know it all.  Besides they have so much to do, so many miles to go before they sleep.   Bill bounces in and gets everyone going, asking us to stand up introduce ourselves and throw three facts, one of which is a lie.  That was that little spark that told me that I needed to put my laptop away, sit back and allow myself the luxury of learning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Phil calmly provided the foundational input for what we need to know about finance, Bill would jump up, pace the room like a tiger, introduce a simulation where four companies are competing in the marketplace.  Each company was given a management team to make key decisions on product mix, production capacity, marketing and development costs.  Decisions that would impact our revenue, profit, cash flow and the share price. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To cut to the chase, the teams had fun, competed, collaborated and probably learnt some along the way.  On the last day, Bill announced the winning team (which was ours, btw) and said that everyone won.  Corny yes, true yes.  Everyone did win. At least all those, who for a few days put away our jaded selves and opened our mind to learning once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up the popular complaint was always "Mom, can I not go to school today?" or "I can't wait to get rid of my books and not have to sit for another exam."  Years pass and we all do grow up, at least in lieu of birthdays.  I will not talk about emotional intelligence as that would be another topic for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the train has stopped at the first station and yes, you no longer have to study for exams.  Suddenly you are an adult, eager to join the workforce become financially independent and blah blah blah. You now realize that hey, work means still living by the alarm clock. Projects to finish, politics to grapple with and that hateful word...accountability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to the next station, you probably found someone special, settled down and have a couple of kids.  Mortgage, rent, taxes, school meetings and you link up with friends from your past on facebook and you are back to reminiscing about the the student life and the good old days.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You reminisce so furiously because you do miss learning.  The stimulation of the mind.  The joy you get when you have that eureka moment.  Even the most cynical of us, cannot but be thrilled when the pieces of the puzzle fit together in the maze in our mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the last day, Bill was very eloquent and instead of telling us to remember ROA, ROI, ROE, he reads out this passage below.  I had heard it before.  Heard different versions for the last fifteen years, in fact. But hearing it again at a finance workshop of all places, made me stop and pause once again. I went up to him and thanked him and Phil for a great workshop and said "I loved your course" and joked that "I didn't open my laptop".  He said "I didn't ask anyone to shut theirs.  It is not my place to ask you to choose to learn.  That has to be your desire." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked away learning about finance and thinking again about the ROI for Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"The Station"&lt;br /&gt;by Robert Hastings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. &lt;br /&gt;We are traveling by train, out the windows, &lt;br /&gt;we drink in the passing scenes of children &lt;br /&gt;waving at a crossing, &lt;br /&gt;cattle grazing on a distant hillside, &lt;br /&gt;row upon row of corn and wheat, &lt;br /&gt;flatlands and valleys, &lt;br /&gt;mountains and rolling hillsides &lt;br /&gt;and city skylines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. &lt;br /&gt;On a certain day, we will pull into the station. &lt;br /&gt;Bands will be playing and flags waving. &lt;br /&gt;Once we get there, our dreams will come true &lt;br /&gt;and the pieces of our lives &lt;br /&gt;will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. &lt;br /&gt;Restlessly we pace the aisles, &lt;br /&gt;damning the minutes - waiting, &lt;br /&gt;waiting, waiting for the station. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When we reach the station, that will be it!" &lt;br /&gt;We cry. "When I'm 18." "When I buy a new 450sl Mercedes Benz!" &lt;br /&gt;"When I put the last kid through college." &lt;br /&gt;"When I have paid off the mortgage!" &lt;br /&gt;"When I get a promotion." "When I reach retirement, &lt;br /&gt;I shall live happily ever after!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooner or later, we realize there is no station,&lt;br /&gt;no one place to arrive. &lt;br /&gt;The true joy of life is the trip. &lt;br /&gt;The station is only a dream. &lt;br /&gt;It constantly outdistances us. &lt;br /&gt;"Relish the moment" is a good motto. &lt;br /&gt;It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad. &lt;br /&gt;It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. &lt;br /&gt;Regret is reality, after the facts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. &lt;br /&gt;Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, &lt;br /&gt;go barefoot more often, &lt;br /&gt;swim more rivers, watch more sunsets,laugh more, cry less. &lt;br /&gt;Life must be lived as we go along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The STATION will come soon enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Picture credit: http://capeverde-islands.com/station.html&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-8816778338336852067?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/8816778338336852067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/02/roi-for-life_27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8816778338336852067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8816778338336852067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/02/roi-for-life_27.html' title='The ROI for Life'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S4iYQ94uhMI/AAAAAAAAAFA/N_eLjuotDi8/s72-c/sunset.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-6201127694168979393</id><published>2010-02-26T21:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T00:04:39.280-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Transition'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Choices'/><title type='text'>On Transition, Choices and The Four Year Plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S4idMKJgi3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZIJhH_onz08/s1600-h/Education.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 231px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S4idMKJgi3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZIJhH_onz08/s320/Education.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442772981885471602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When January finally bid adieu and Feb came skipping along, I thought let's hope this month is not attention deficit and hyperactive. Feb is coming to an end and while it is the month to muse on the path with heart, it has also been the month of transition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month of reviewing, clearing and creating space. With two daughters heading into middle and high school in August, I watched them start to gather information about what they plan to do next. It is not easy this place of transition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My FB status update for Feb 10 went something like this. "This is transition week. We have schools giving me input on what we need to know so our kids will have a smooth move into their new schools in August. And they have it so well mapped out. How come adults never get any transition training to deal with work life and that fine balance?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In retrospect, the information is out there. There are enough career fairs, open houses, information interviews. Planning is everything. I completely agree, but the toughest part is to sift the information and pick up what is relevant for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still remember my transition period during school. I had no idea what I wanted to do but I knew what I couldn't do. I couldn't get the least bit motivated to study commerce. I had signed up for it. Spent a week in that class when I knew by the end of Day 1 that this was not me. Picked up my bags and scooted over to liberal arts to study literature and sociology where I kid you not, my heart sang. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny thing happens when the heart sings. You actually spend more time doing your work and less time feeling tired. This was what I wanted my girls to understand about transition week and making choices that push them gently forward. One step closer to defining what would make their heart sing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also liked the fact that my daughter going into high school actually gets to look at a four year plan. While she focuses on her immediate future, she also gets to plan the next three years. Hopefully it will give her the chance to experiment, eliminate, extricate and emerge a little closer to understanding how to find that elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Experiment&lt;/strong&gt; - Think buffet. Sometimes it's overwhelming to see the array of food heaped in front of you. But you get to taste variety instead of a la carte. Then go back and and eat more of what you like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eliminate&lt;/strong&gt; - If you can't figure what you want to do, work backwards and try to figure out what you don't like. Then remember to write that down. Many people get stuck in repetitive cycles and wonder why nothing has changed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Extricate &lt;/strong&gt;- If you have made a choice and that doesn't sit well with you, then have the courage to acknowledge that you have made a mistake and course correct. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while she is heads down, figuring out her four year plan, I am revisting mine. And in the words of Jon Bon Jovi, we will both &lt;em&gt;"Map out our future, but do it in pencil."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-6201127694168979393?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/6201127694168979393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/02/on-transition-choices-and-four-year.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6201127694168979393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6201127694168979393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/02/on-transition-choices-and-four-year.html' title='On Transition, Choices and The Four Year Plan'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S4idMKJgi3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZIJhH_onz08/s72-c/Education.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-3502315770370624035</id><published>2010-02-02T18:36:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T20:05:16.498-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentines day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='path with heart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Follow the Path with Heart - Musings for February</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S2jSXSdC-aI/AAAAAAAAAE4/JPuUwHvyRpQ/s1600-h/51_poppies_15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 164px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S2jSXSdC-aI/AAAAAAAAAE4/JPuUwHvyRpQ/s320/51_poppies_15.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433824247954995618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been pondering over this month's theme.  Just to set the record straight, I don't have themes but lightbulbs typically pop when you are busy cooking, working, dreaming.  Lightbulbs don't ask for permission.  They barge right in and if you are not home, they fuse ever so gently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I digress as the theme is not lightbulbs, it is all about HEART.  You might argue that heart should not be a theme for one month, it is forever.  And you would be absolutely right.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why now, why this month. Apart from the obvious that Cupid has a dedicated day which retail stores are exploiting, it was prompted by some incredible musings by some gifted writers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that each one of us knows about this path with heart. Some of us have followed it and some of us have stood on the sidelines wringing our hands choosing the dictates of the head instead.  There are no right or wrong answers as to each a journey as unique as a fingerprint.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But and this is a big &lt;strong&gt;BUT...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you look in the mirror with eyes listless, unwilling, dragging your feet. &lt;br /&gt;When you are tired by the thought of Monday. &lt;br /&gt;When you can't remember as you seem to forget too often. &lt;br /&gt;When you feel anxiety creeping, clutching at you with clammy fingers reminding you of possible failure.&lt;br /&gt;When you look back to find a whole bunch of coulda, shoulda, woulda and only ifs &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these whens and there are more warning whens.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then if you don't stop to have that talk about the path with heart with the man in the mirror.  Then you have betrayed yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the path with heart is not about chucking your paycheck, getting on that bike and riding the wind. It could be that for some.  It could also be about finding that nugget in our treasure chest that brightens those eyes, that lifts the chin, that squares the shoulder. Once you find it, once you have the courage to pursue it, once you understand that no outside voice can quell it, you are set free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure. You’ve got to find the treasure, so that everything you have learned along the way can make sense." The Alchemist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-3502315770370624035?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/3502315770370624035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/02/follow-path-with-heart-musings-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3502315770370624035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3502315770370624035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/02/follow-path-with-heart-musings-for.html' title='Follow the Path with Heart - Musings for February'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S2jSXSdC-aI/AAAAAAAAAE4/JPuUwHvyRpQ/s72-c/51_poppies_15.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-2164496350466088757</id><published>2010-01-17T12:03:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T16:44:48.573-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Profiles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Audience Segment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>Whose Wall Is It Anyway? Letter To FB</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S1NX5fQf-1I/AAAAAAAAAEw/K1-5_mzbUPM/s1600-h/welcome_3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 90px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S1NX5fQf-1I/AAAAAAAAAEw/K1-5_mzbUPM/s320/welcome_3.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427778621066443602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear FB, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't ask me to write on someone's wall, poke them, ask them to upload a picture or friend people you think I might know. I know you mean well but let's face it you are not match.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see I joined Facebook June 2006 and I must admit I have been hooked. I was there when all those applications were the rage. Superpoke was big that year, vampire fighting was in and so were all those growing gifts, animals popping from eggs, grafitti on the wall etc. Seen you guys move the dot and assimilate a lot of good stuff. And here's my take on your audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people who are new to facebook and pacing themselves. I call them the &lt;strong&gt;"Gingers".  &lt;/strong&gt;They have just signed up and are gingerly testing the waters. Like my daughter for instance. She joined and she got hit with a bunch of friend requests. She is searching for a profile picture and will not upload one till it is exactly what she is looking for. The gingers will take their time to understand the environment.  They are self conscious and do not want to blurt something on their virtual wall and put their proverbial foot in the face.  They are also very concerned about what their friends might post on their wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the &lt;strong&gt;Divers&lt;/strong&gt;.  Divers typically dive into everything with full gusto.  They found something.  They will learn everything about it. That profile picture will be on the very next hour.  They will import email addresses. Scan their friends friends.  Send friend requests. Within a few weeks, Divers would have completely understood the environment and raring to go.  Divers will "like" comments; they will comment on links/posts and have those status updates buzzing. They might even bite off more than they can chew.  Alpha...alpha...alpha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also have the &lt;strong&gt;Watchers&lt;/strong&gt;. These folks have been around for sometime.  They are there.  They are quiet.  They are reading.  They may pretend that they are not interested and they will at gatherings say openly that they are too busy for facebook.  They might ask Divers where they find the time to facebook. But they are there and they know just what you have been upto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another breed is the &lt;strong&gt;Sleepers&lt;/strong&gt;.  Sleepers or Dormants are different from watchers.  They set up their profile.  Probably forgot their username and password and have been like sleeping beauty, asleep for a few years.  Now there are many instances when Dormants wake up and suddenly become active like those sleeper agents that Russia has planted in the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also throw in the &lt;strong&gt;Rashers&lt;/strong&gt;.  Rashers are dangerous to have as friends. They can write anything on your wall. Rashers go where no person has gone before. The bull in the china "wall" so to speak.  Rashers can divulge information that was to be shared in an inbox. They can make provocative comments that can start a fire...you get the drift.  The way to deal with Rashers is to isolate and use those newly improved privacy settings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add another important segment the &lt;strong&gt;Gamers&lt;/strong&gt;.  Gamers are competitive and committed folks who enjoy the many opportunities to match and win points. There are rural gamers who like the gentle farm animals, or the ones who prefer out and out combat...mafia, vampires, any others out there...bring it! You are either a Gamer or you are not...it is a genetic thang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are more. &lt;strong&gt;The optimists. The pessimists. The critics. The sage. The jokers. The daters. The mamas and the papas.&lt;/strong&gt; People who make FB go round and around. So when you ask me to poke, to prod, to friend, to feed, to post, to suggest, remember all friends are not created equal. Jus sayin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-2164496350466088757?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/2164496350466088757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/letter-to-facebook.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/2164496350466088757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/2164496350466088757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/letter-to-facebook.html' title='Whose Wall Is It Anyway? Letter To FB'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/S1NX5fQf-1I/AAAAAAAAAEw/K1-5_mzbUPM/s72-c/welcome_3.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-635078039518371045</id><published>2010-01-16T10:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T16:38:31.215-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>The Bridesmaid</title><content type='html'>Worn around the edges &lt;br /&gt;And fading away &lt;br /&gt;Aging faster, trying hard&lt;br /&gt;To keep Chronos at bay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories woven and spun like silk&lt;br /&gt;Sepia scenes embellished,&lt;br /&gt;Enhanced and retouched &lt;br /&gt;Unable to gaze away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constant chatter clutters the mind&lt;br /&gt;Every empty space crammed with noise&lt;br /&gt;Silence and stillness &lt;br /&gt;No longer a choice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyesight’s fading&lt;br /&gt;Her hearing acute&lt;br /&gt;Her body failing&lt;br /&gt;Her mind astute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her life was lonely&lt;br /&gt;But not alone&lt;br /&gt;Tending to children&lt;br /&gt;Not her own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A supporting role&lt;br /&gt;The eternal sidekick&lt;br /&gt;Always the bridesmaid&lt;br /&gt;Never the bride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unsure of her legacy&lt;br /&gt;Of lives she touched&lt;br /&gt;Gifts of music, language&lt;br /&gt;Poetry and love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With every reflection&lt;br /&gt;Faint outlines of possibility&lt;br /&gt;As ethereal as the mists&lt;br /&gt;On the hilltops of Ooty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we ever die if we can&lt;br /&gt;Touch one life&lt;br /&gt;Change one destiny&lt;br /&gt;Inspire one verse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copyright © 2008 Shaku Selvakumar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-635078039518371045?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/635078039518371045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/bridesmaid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/635078039518371045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/635078039518371045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/bridesmaid.html' title='The Bridesmaid'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-550096440309932127</id><published>2010-01-14T18:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T18:11:01.433-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resolutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prophecy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2012'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2010'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>What if 2012, What then 2010?</title><content type='html'>So the world may end on &lt;strong&gt;Dec 21st 2012 &lt;/strong&gt;according to the Mayans and that would mean a little less than 3 years left on this earth. Whether we take the prophesy literally or metaphysically, the fact is that we are being forced by natural, social, economic and cultural shifts to engage in some serious reflection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The Hopi and Mayan elders do not prophesy that everything will come to an end. Rather, this is a time of transition from one World Age into another. The message they give concerns our making a choice of how we enter the future ahead. Our moving through with either resistance or acceptance will determine whether the transition will happen with cataclysmic changes or gradual peace and tranquility. The same theme can be found reflected in the prophecies of many other Native American visionaries from Black Elk to Sun Bear." - Joseph Robert Jochmans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entering &lt;strong&gt;2010&lt;/strong&gt;, there is deepening awareness that our time on earth needs to make more sense than just existence. We can always say that 2012 is yet another disaster movie script and it doesn't mean anything. It probably is. Aliens may attack. Some maniac might launch a nuclear weapon. Or the earth may continue spinning on its axis for a very long time till the machines take over. But the point is we all are mortal and every day goes faster than the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if we live like the world might end in three years would our decisions, our choices, our lifestyles, our priorities, our focus, our realities, our reactions, our careers be different? Would we love more and judge less? Would we say no more often to work that brings more stress? Would we stop living like we have all the time in the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love resolutions, bless their tidy souls. At the heart of every resolution lies intention that is so vehement on bringing change. As the days pass, those intentions start rusting due to little or no care. And by the end of January, like boring leftovers, they are tossed into the bin of waste. Till the first day of the next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I look back at 2009, I mark it as the year when our world shook under the weight of so many revelations and uncertainities. I mark it as the beginning of another phase of constant change. When we became that generation holding the baton as our parents have passed it on. There is no longer any generation to blame only generations to lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Sometimes, when we don't have the courage to change, everything changes around us to direct us to a new path. You cannot stop yourself from growing - evolution requires it." - The Secret &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my Nickelback anthem song for 2010 and I am hoping that if I hear it often enough I will not take the free ride in my own life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Against the grain should be a way of life&lt;br /&gt;What's worth the price is always worth the fight&lt;br /&gt;Every second counts 'cause&lt;br /&gt;There's no second try&lt;br /&gt;So live like you're never living twice&lt;br /&gt;Don't take the free ride in your own life" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y__hGIzJpGY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y__hGIzJpGY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-550096440309932127?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/550096440309932127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-if-2012-what-then-2010.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/550096440309932127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/550096440309932127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-if-2012-what-then-2010.html' title='What if 2012, What then 2010?'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-8505281802668242643</id><published>2009-04-21T12:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T12:14:22.587-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Buzzing in my head</title><content type='html'>Thought I would pull together some of my more popular status updates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Embedded in the arrogance that we cannot learn from others, lies the insecurity of the emperor with no clothes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forget the sisters of regret...shoulda, coulda, woulda and their brother "if only"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Within each seed lies a journey to be birthed.  And to each a journey as unique as a fingerprint&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is important to be silly, to be serious, to be strong, to be frail, to be yourself.  What is life if we only shared a mask&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-8505281802668242643?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/8505281802668242643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/04/buzzing-in-my-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8505281802668242643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8505281802668242643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/04/buzzing-in-my-head.html' title='Buzzing in my head'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-6218117174828989154</id><published>2009-04-14T22:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T22:51:11.934-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Asleep</title><content type='html'>In the land of make believe&lt;br /&gt;There is no hurt&lt;br /&gt;There is no one &lt;br /&gt;To deceive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Air brushed kisses&lt;br /&gt;Static smiles&lt;br /&gt;Hits and misses&lt;br /&gt;Paid by plastic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Echo has no voice&lt;br /&gt;A reflection for Narcissus&lt;br /&gt;Entwined in a dance&lt;br /&gt;Undone by Nemesis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would that the heart&lt;br /&gt;So deeply &lt;br /&gt;Buried&lt;br /&gt;Under layers of dirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Beauty asleep&lt;br /&gt;In soul less slumber&lt;br /&gt;Refusing to weep&lt;br /&gt;Unable to remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly the child&lt;br /&gt;After years of knocking&lt;br /&gt;Stays silent&lt;br /&gt;Never to speak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Shaku Selvakumar © 2009&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-6218117174828989154?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/6218117174828989154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/04/asleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6218117174828989154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6218117174828989154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/04/asleep.html' title='Asleep'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-4950777711996923272</id><published>2009-04-05T10:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T10:25:32.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Report Cards and Performance Reviews</title><content type='html'>My daughters got their report cards recently and our pulse quickened wondering how they fared. Call it the PTS – the “parent teacher syndrome”. You can be a CEO or you can be a check out clerk. In the classroom, the teacher rules. Make no mistake about that. It turns out that the girls were doing fine and met their "targets".  We looked at it, hemmed and hawed. Not telling them that they did better than us when we were in school :) High fives, had to keep promises that were made earlier in the school year all slowly depleting the family riches or lack thereof.  I might have to take a deep breath and commit to adopting a dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the adult world, most companies are doing their performance reviews. Did your work matter during the fiscal year? Did you contribute to the company’s bottom line? What are the success metrics? Who did better in the group? After all the bonus pool is finite. Benchmark this, benchmark that. Now if you are very organized, you would have kept a journal and starting January 1 of the previous year.  You would have meticulously noted everything that you contributed. If not, you have to rewind, pause, record. The end result, a performance grade that will either reward or rankle for the rest of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is that we are constantly being assessed. From birth to death. There are external parameters being laid every step of the way. As a newborn baby, you have APGAR tests and others. You come home all swaddled and you are compared to other babies, toddlers. When did she start talking? Is he walking? What about gross motor skills, fine motor skills. At school and college, your grades define you. You graduate and start work and your bosses provide the measurement. And those companies with the 360 reviews give you the opportunity to rate your boss. At home, your children or partner will give you the 360. Or this constant need to keep up with the Joneses. A bigger house, a more expensive car, exotic vacations and the list gets longer and the compromise continues.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, you stop believing in yourself and start mirroring the opinions. An ex boss once told me when he was doing my performance review 8 years ago “Perception is reality, because people believe in it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History, however, is peppered with stories of heroes who defied perceptions and created their own reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This anonymous quote sums it up nicely. “Excellence can be obtained if you care more than others think is wise, risk more than others think is safe, dream more than others think is practical, and expect more than others think is possible." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to those who feared less and dared more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-4950777711996923272?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/4950777711996923272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-report-cards-and-performance-reviews.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4950777711996923272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4950777711996923272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-report-cards-and-performance-reviews.html' title='On Report Cards and Performance Reviews'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-8520302391636013297</id><published>2009-03-31T20:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T09:25:51.206-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ron todd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natasha richardson'/><title type='text'>On Living, Birthdays and Taking Stock</title><content type='html'>Ironically we seek to live when we are reminded about death.  So when a birthday approaches, I typically tend to let it be...and many birthdays have slipped away like a thief in the night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year however, three incidents took place in close proximity.  The first instance was early March, when we found out a good friend lost his sister suddenly to a random illness.  The second was &lt;a href=" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natasha_Richardson"&gt; Natasha Richardson&lt;/a&gt;, actress, wife and mother of two who goes vacationing, hits her head on a ski slope and without warning this becomes fatal.  Does it make sense?  Absolutely not.  She probably thought that bump on her head would be nothing serious.  A perfectly normal day.  She probably woke up looking forward to a relaxing vacation. Finally, my good friend Ron Todd who having survived melanoma got double whammied once again by the deadly C and is fighting to kick this monster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed like a wake up call this month.  Questions that surface like bubbles on still water.  Where are we heading and how do we make the most of our time on earth.  What do those 3 blind sisters holding the scissors have in mind...what discussions are they having right now and about whom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to living and an urge not to let another birthday slip away unnoticed by myself.  To look at aging another year in the eye and say "I see you and I raise a toast to you!"  And reminding myself that I do need to look into my bucket list and start working on it.  Can we rewind, no? Can we fast forward, sure...when we refuse to pause to enjoy.  Emerson states simply but succinctly "We are always getting ready to live, but never living."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which led me to...taking stock of what was, what is and what may be.  And you realize that it matters naught what you have but who you hold in your embrace.  Who you touch with your love, your words, your actions, your thoughts.  Without judgement.  Four hundred people attended a &lt;a href = "http://cbs2.com/404.aspx?404;http://cb2.com:80/video/?id=97514@kcbs.dayport.com"&gt; prayer vigil &lt;/a&gt;for Ron last Tuesday in California.  There is another vigil being held in Austin this Tuesday.  Regardless of the outcome, Ron is already a hero to many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Thomas L Odem Jr says &lt;i&gt;"If the essence of my being has caused a smile to have appeared upon your face or a touch of joy within your heart.  Then in living - I have made my mark."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to facing mortality by leaving immortal footprints.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-8520302391636013297?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/8520302391636013297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/03/on-living-birthdays-and-taking-stock.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8520302391636013297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8520302391636013297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/03/on-living-birthdays-and-taking-stock.html' title='On Living, Birthdays and Taking Stock'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-4329159010870267501</id><published>2009-01-20T09:21:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T09:42:47.772-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='david whyte'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inauguration'/><title type='text'>Obama Inauguration: Today is about possibility</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SXXujgrN3TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Zbtue7oaRks/s1600-h/obama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 89px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SXXujgrN3TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Zbtue7oaRks/s320/obama.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293399230877916466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SXXuUjmDhuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/yUzcBJaipWE/s1600-h/tdy_curry_mall2_090120.thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 98px; height: 74px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SXXuUjmDhuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/yUzcBJaipWE/s320/tdy_curry_mall2_090120.thumb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293398973963536098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow about responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is euphoria in the air.   Hundreds of thousands from all over the United States have gathered in DC making this, as the newscasters call it “the journey” to witness this day in history.  There are many who have traveled from outside the US.  A group from the Bahamas calling themselves the Bahama Obama Mamas. People hugging, singing, cheering.  Millions watching the broadcast from all over the world.  From a city called Obama in Japan, to Indonesia, Hong Kong, India, Australia, Middle East, Europe there is much vested globally in this historic inauguration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reminded of &lt;a href="http://davidwhyte.com"&gt;David Whyte&lt;/a&gt; and his insightful poem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loaves and Fishes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not&lt;br /&gt;the age of information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not&lt;br /&gt;the age of information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget the news,&lt;br /&gt;and the radio,&lt;br /&gt;and the blurred screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the time&lt;br /&gt;of loaves and fishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are hungry&lt;br /&gt;and one good word is bread&lt;br /&gt;for a thousand. &lt;br /&gt;  -- &lt;em&gt;David Whyte&lt;/em&gt; from The House of Belonging ©1996 Many Rivers Press &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One good word is bread for a thousand.  This is not about race, religion, politics, class or caste.  This is about humanity uniting to save the world aligning under the banner of hope and possibility.  This is about belief that “we did not inherit this earth from our ancestors.  We have borrowed it from our children.”  2008 was a wake up call that we have to collaborate fiercely to co create the new world.  It is about the opportunity that today holds for the future.  It is about belief. Yes, we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Believe&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Loaves and Fishes&lt;br /&gt;In Silver Conches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recall&lt;br /&gt;Faded dreams&lt;br /&gt;Unused gifts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reveal &lt;br /&gt;Beauty &lt;br /&gt;Truth &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one&lt;br /&gt;In all&lt;br /&gt;Indivisible&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;em&gt;Shaku Selvakumar &lt;/em&gt;© 2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-4329159010870267501?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/4329159010870267501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/01/obama-inauguration-today-is-about.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4329159010870267501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/4329159010870267501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/01/obama-inauguration-today-is-about.html' title='Obama Inauguration: Today is about possibility'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SXXujgrN3TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Zbtue7oaRks/s72-c/obama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-2411298595046586476</id><published>2009-01-06T23:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T23:17:47.314-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking back...moving forward</title><content type='html'>Strangely enough I don’t have any resolutions for 2009 save one…to simplify.  By the time last year came to a close, I was running ragged, exhausted and worn out.  2008 for moi, was the year of the hamster.  Spinning on a treadmill trying to play some sort of weird catch up.  There was no balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December came by and I hugged my vacation days close to my heart hoping to complete a hundred pending tasks, read a few books and rearrange everything.  Instead, I just let go.  I did what I could and everything else fell by the wayside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t buy the furniture.  I didn’t finish my mailing.  I didn’t paint those rooms.  And I didn’t feel guilty.  I started a list of things to do and I threw it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike summer vacations, winter holidays are about closure and preparation for the year ahead.  For some of us, hibernation is a good way to prepare for the new year.  Many will remember ‘08 as a year of global transformation.  If you think of Hercules cleaning the Aegean stables, you will understand that the muck has to be cleared out.  Anything built on shifting sands will not stand the test of the future.  That much we know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally speaking, 2008 was like a lightening rod catching sparks and passing tremors.  I moved jobs within the company.  We renovated our old home and bought a new home that came with a complimentary posse of hens and roosters.  The kids went to new schools after dramatically bidding adieu to familiar faces. Family that played together and stayed together. Ike came to Texas and left some serious destruction.  Palin scared me but Obama won.  Yes, we can.  Summer vacation and winter staycation. Mumbai hurt and we were horrified. We became the proud sponsors for Nayantara, a 14 year old Bengali girl through Children's International.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is 2009 which is about accountability, responsibility and careful consideration.  It is the year of the squirrel.  It is also about hope.  Hope for peace, for resurrection, for forgiveness.  So as I write this, I have decided that along with simplifying my life, I will also continue to be unabashedly sentimental and mushy.  And no…I don’t intend to hug trees.  Maybe next year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-2411298595046586476?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/2411298595046586476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/01/looking-backmoving-forward.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/2411298595046586476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/2411298595046586476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2009/01/looking-backmoving-forward.html' title='Looking back...moving forward'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-8828869990314635238</id><published>2008-12-28T19:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T19:43:27.274-06:00</updated><title type='text'>D: Destiny and Slumdog Millionaire</title><content type='html'>As the credits rolled at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin on Friday night, the audience clapped and cheered for this movie. You stand up reluctantly because you know that movies like these don't come by often enough and you don't want it to end.  Danny Boyle takes unknown faces, adds a stellar crew and a terrific soundtrack from Rahman to create a movie that epitomizes the spirit of humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Set in Mumbai, this is a Dickensian story of a slumboy whose life is in equal parts love, passion, luck and destiny. You care for this slumboy and root for him till the very end, leaning forward and holding your breath as he walks his tightrope life without a safety net. It could be that despite incredible odds and a life characterized by brutality, Jamal is pure. Despite the harshness of his environment which enslaves his brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This stark love story is anchored in Jamal's fierce intent to find his childhood friend,Latika against all odds. Love, passion and courage create luck and can rewrite destiny as it is said that even the gods can't fight that kind of force. How often do we see that kind of faith and trust. Jamal journeys from the slums of Mumbai to Agra and back, landing finally on the set of "Who wants to be a Millionaire".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was it just Destiny that brings him on the gameshow with a slim chance of winning millions...not sure. Destiny can be fickle. Which is why no astrologer or palmist can accurately predict the future. They may be able to see the signposts. There are a few pre determined conditions that are present in life (your birth, parents, place etc) and multiple cross roads that take us in different directions. And who can forget cause and effect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two brothers, same environment, different choices and therein lies the heart of this tale. We are not just the sum of our experiences but how we interpret our experiences. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/1125869268" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashVars="videoId=5098382001&amp;playerId=1125869268&amp;viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://services.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&amp;servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&amp;cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&amp;domain=embed&amp;autoStart=false&amp;" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" allowscriptaccess="always" name="flashObj" width="486" height="412" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swLiveConnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-8828869990314635238?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/8828869990314635238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/d-destiny-and-slumdog-millionaire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8828869990314635238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/8828869990314635238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/d-destiny-and-slumdog-millionaire.html' title='D: Destiny and Slumdog Millionaire'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-548070492959149466</id><published>2008-12-26T11:15:00.014-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T12:44:28.418-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storytelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>Saving the stories...pass it forward</title><content type='html'>Everyone loves to hear a good story. It can be cautionary, exemplary, inspirational or even tragic. A good storyteller manages to communicate the essence without preaching. Very often the silence, the untold, the material left to your imagination is what absorbs and grabs your attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up I loved to listen to my grand aunt’s stories. We knew she added many layers to keep it rich but it enthralled us anyway. We loved it most when she talked about their days in British India. She had us spellbound when we listened to her father’s exploits, the exotic clothes, the jewelry and the lifestyle they led. Big houses, wide open fields, joint families and fates that were often decided by the elders. We would rush to corroborate the story with my Dad, who would absentmindedly say “Oh your Chinnama talks too much”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my mom’s father, I learnt about the Partition days, when there was fighting and how Delhi was in turmoil with families torn apart and living in fear. We also heard the stories of the Gods and Goddesses, their dramas, and the cliff hangers which decided the balance between the three worlds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to the present day and I realize that we rely more and more on books and sadly have lost the art of story telling. The gathering, the passing of knowledge and wisdom from elder to the young. We live such harried, hurried lives, striving constantly to fight time that we have sacrificed the ritual of storytelling. That which is a key element of the rites of passage. That which provides children with a cultural and personal map which highlights critical bends, stop signs and detours. That which teaches that the future can be lit through the teachings of the past. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As poet David Antin says “Stories are different every time you tell them – they allow so many narratives.” Retelling is also a reminder to ourselves…not to forget that which should not be forgotten. The connection that there is mystery in this universe, that thread that binds us, helps our children appreciate community in a world that increasingly emphasizes individuality. The hero’s journey is never without allies. Cantadora, Jungian poet and writer, Clarissa Pinkola Estes notes &lt;em&gt;"The craft of questions, the craft of stories, the craft of the hands - all these are the making of something, and that something is soul. Anytime we feed soul, it guarantees increase."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dig deep enough and each family has a treasure trove of triumph, heartache, joy and love.  There are black sheep, everyday heroes, love stories and adventures. “How uncle got kicked out of school for cheating on his exam” is as relevant as “How your grandfather migrated to America with $25 in his pocket”. Narration and interaction also helps them understand the principle of cause and effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, the myths that we have grown up hearing are still relevant in the digital age. When we were in India last year, I saw a statue of Lord Ganesh with a laptop instead of the traditional book. We had a good laugh but it also brought home the fact there is nothing wrong in updating our myths. As the visionary Joseph Campbell underlines &lt;em&gt;“We need myths that will identify the individual not with his local group but with the planet”. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we delve deeper into the stories, personal and multi cultural, we can truly understand that which binds us together is far stronger than that which isolates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-UPtfEkl_o&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-UPtfEkl_o&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-548070492959149466?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/548070492959149466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/saving-storiespass-it-forward.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/548070492959149466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/548070492959149466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/saving-storiespass-it-forward.html' title='Saving the stories...pass it forward'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-7721774037750987782</id><published>2008-12-21T23:38:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T01:03:43.732-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><title type='text'>Power Play...Who Wins</title><content type='html'>Let’s just be candid here.  Most of us are engaged in power plays.  At home, at work, on the playground, where ever, what ever. As old as the holy book, as long as man has existed, the battle has not been about money.  It has been about power.  Who has it, who will lose it... Like Abe Lincoln said &lt;em&gt;“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power”.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As children we quickly learn that being popular has certain pre requisites. It is a parallel universe where what you learn outside the classroom is more interesting than within. Of course, you are now part of the in crowd and the internal struggle begins to retain the crown. From attire, to accessories, to your girlfriends and boyfriends, choices are made. Here is your first test. Power or naught. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we grow, we watch our parents, observe other role models, peers, government/business leaders and as we are socialized, we will start responding to our issues with power. At home, power struggles between partners will either result in an outright victory, an acceptable compromise or an uneasy truce.  Aggressive or passive aggressive, the power principle is addictive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember my days as an intern at an advertising agency.  I was out of college where we loved playing the rebel without a cause and jumped straight into the jaws of the mad ad world.  It was tough to go from “Me World” to the lowest rung on the ladder.  Running errands for the account executives, waiting for lofty creative directors, listening to whiny clients and pandering to the art director’s tantrums sucked the energy right out.  So you promise yourself that you will climb that ladder and regain what you lost. Enter Ambition.   Now Ambition commonly can take three routes to the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elevator Approach  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just can’t wait to get to the top. You had a headstart. Your family pulled some strings. You were born devastatingly beautiful. You live in the penthouse. You crawled into the elevator and went straight up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escalator Approach&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had a game plan. You studied the field and figured how you could reach the top with as little effort as possible. You did learn some along the way but you worked on being singled out and started a rapid ascent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stairs Approach&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have no problems with hard work. You started as an intern or as someone’s assistant and rose to the top.  You know more about the company than anyone else.  You, my friend are patient and the most determined.  You understand how the farmer tills the land, plants the seed, waters, protects, sprays for pests and reaps the harvest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambition has helped you gain power.  Now Power is a double edged sword.  As we all know, if not wielded well, it burns the house down.   Like the Ring that Frodo bears which corrupts him even as he limps to the Mount of Doom trying to evade the Eye of Mordor.  Gandalf didn’t want it, Boromir dies for it and Gollum erodes from man to slimy beast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you are caught in a power play at work or anywhere else, distance yourself.   Power only feeds on willing victims.   As Jung aptly puts it &lt;em&gt;“Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://dilbert.com/strips/comic/2008-12-04/" title="Dilbert.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://dilbert.com/dyn/str_strip/000000000/00000000/0000000/000000/30000/4000/000/34005/34005.strip.gif" border="0" alt="Dilbert.com" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-7721774037750987782?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/7721774037750987782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/power-playwho-wins.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/7721774037750987782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/7721774037750987782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/power-playwho-wins.html' title='Power Play...Who Wins'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-3825712359862575131</id><published>2008-12-13T13:15:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T18:42:10.175-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work life balance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recession'/><title type='text'>Bend without Breaking...lessons from children</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SUQSwjVOLpI/AAAAAAAAABg/3Px8DjuL2M0/s1600-h/girl-8-9-teenage_~200303976-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279365288512335506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SUQSwjVOLpI/AAAAAAAAABg/3Px8DjuL2M0/s320/girl-8-9-teenage_~200303976-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I allow myself to relax and watch my girls, I walk away with some wonderful insights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the whole concept of change. It is everywhere, it is constant. Who moved the cheese? Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. If you don’t change, you will not evolve. Right, we get it. And this December, with the global financial meltdown, even Joe the Plumber gets it. The avalanche has started and it will leave no person unaffected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listen to all these mantras and continue to resist change in all ways possible. Why? Because change is a hard six letter word. True change is to re fashion, re mould, renovate. This is hard because we program ourselves to resist. Another ‘re’ word. Darn, I do not want to give up my cozy armchair of old habits and use that new wooden chair with no cushion. Like Goldilocks, it’s too hard, it’s too soft, and I want it just right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Children, however, are faced with change constantly. Every year, they have new teachers, new classrooms, new schedules, new friends, new enemies and new challenges. My daughter who went to a new middle school this fall went from familiar to unfamiliar with a manic schedule, new faces, a new bus route, more homework and new projects. She will experience change again in January when the first semester ends and another one starts with new electives. I am in awe of her resilience and her ability to weather change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adapting to change is not easy, like the inverse bell curve, you will bottom out but when you climb out of it, your reality shifts. As we grow older, we tend to relegate discovery to the basement. Change becomes a hard wired, rigid process. Fear replaces wonder and we lose our agility along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Accept the change&lt;/strong&gt;. Voluntary or involuntary, the more you fight the change, the harder it gets. Like the Chinese finger puzzle, you sink deeper and deeper into the stronghold. Downsized, laid off, new job, new home, new city, new spouse… It is done. You look at the cards you have and figure out how to work the deck. Kids walk into a new class every year. Yes, they do complain about their teachers but they know that this is a fact of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t hide your feelings &lt;/strong&gt;When you hit the trough of disillusionment (I just love the Gartner Hype Cycle), reach out to your family and close friends. We have no trouble with the happy face but would rather suffer alone than admit that the curve ball that life just threw at you is more than you can handle. That cold, clammy whisper that tells you that you cannot cope is very real and the sooner you talk about it, the easier it becomes. Little ones come home and rattle off their woes. “Hey mama, I hate Maddie. She made fun off me in class.” Or “I don’t want to go to school anymore.” The issue is still there but sharing it is great therapy. Everybody hurts, everybody cries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t look back &lt;/strong&gt;Or like that Greek myth, you turn into stone. Which is what happens when we stay in the past, we cannot move forward. The past is always sepia colored and despite the flaws in the pictures, we knew the past so it was safe. If you have moved to a new place, embrace it whole heartedly. Don’t hanker for your old home. We cannot live in two worlds at the same time unless you know a lot about time travel and the string theory. Children rarely stay in the past or worry about the future. They might miss it but they are too busy being in the present. And they just don’t have the bandwidth to fear the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Experiment with change &lt;/strong&gt;My 5 year old is always “pushing our buttons.” She is ready to go anywhere with little or no notice. She runs after a butterfly, grabs the neighbor’s dog by its tail, says hello to everyone in the supermarket and lives completely in the moment. Instead of fearing change, we can practice flexibility by starting with small practices like taking a different route to work, ordering the bento box instead of the usual sandwich or learning a new language or skill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the words of the greatest change management guru, Darwin, &lt;em&gt;“It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change” &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-3825712359862575131?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/3825712359862575131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/bend-without-breakinglessons-from.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3825712359862575131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/3825712359862575131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/bend-without-breakinglessons-from.html' title='Bend without Breaking...lessons from children'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SUQSwjVOLpI/AAAAAAAAABg/3Px8DjuL2M0/s72-c/girl-8-9-teenage_~200303976-001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-6077421733015693098</id><published>2008-12-04T19:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T19:51:55.505-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking the Monkey out of Multi Tasking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/STiHeTRtHQI/AAAAAAAAABQ/pOOLgXXysiU/s1600-h/multitasking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276115918104894722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 317px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/STiHeTRtHQI/AAAAAAAAABQ/pOOLgXXysiU/s320/multitasking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was reviewing a job description and after the write up covered all the work under the sun, it ended with “looking for a multi tasker and a self starter”. LOL! You are kidding me, right. That sounds like the latest touch tone SMART microwave oven. Yes, just add water and I will intuit how to cook this entire meal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, multi tasking has become a primo underlined verb that everyone includes in their vocabulary. But peel back the layers of multi tasking, like that proverbial onion that Shrek loves, and you will find one distracted individual. And I am guilty. I multi task all the time. If I am driving, I am wondering what else can I do. Should I call the doctor and set up that appointment? Or I decide to take the conference call and contribute or keep it on mute so the background noise does not interfere with the call. Or another scenario here, I am at work and in another endless meeting and hoping to download all that information that folks are sharing. I see an instant message pop up wanting input on another task. So while I am participating in one meeting, I am also managing another request. Or I am eating lunch at my desk while working on a presentation and participating in a virtual meeting. I am ricocheting all over the place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At home, if I am watching a movie with the girls, I either fold the clothes or try and find another task so I can save time. There you go…save time. And you wonder…are you saving time or just immersed in your own busyness to pay attention. I am busy ergo I am important. I matter.I have heard enough about focus. I have heard enough about paying attention. But that word “multi tasking” has crawled into my brain and now dictates the “efficient” use of my time. Like a persistent nudge, it whispers “hey just divide your attention. You can drive and talk. No big” and so on.But we don’t save time by multi tasking. Time cannot be saved. It is diluted. It is wasted when we don’t slow down. We lose time when we don’t focus on the task at hand. When you are on a call and engaged in one conversation, picking up the second call is unnecessary. When you are interacting with your children, responding to that email on your blackberry is losing precious face time. When you create long “to do” lists or “honey do’s” that create an impression of organization but increase the stress of things undone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Research done by Rubinstein, Meyers and Evans shows that while multi tasking may seem more efficient, it might actually take more time.  "Rule activation takes significant amounts of time, several tenths of a second -- which can add up when people switch back and forth repeatedly between tasks.” Meyers points out “a mere half second of time lost to task switching can mean the difference between life and death for a driver using a cell phone.” Researchers continue to find that multitasking decreases productivity, increases stress, and may cause physical discomforts such as stomachaches or headaches.  I was at my daughter’s violin recital on Wednesday night and watched her single mindedly focus on her music. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every child did the same. The result was a symphony that was inspiring. It is time to slow down. To focus. To pay attention. To listen. To be present. The mind is a monkey, swinging from scattered thoughts, driving priorities, paranoid, incessant and never still. It’s going to take some effort but I am going to let that phone ring and enjoy the scenery when I drive back home today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I will sing instead!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;“When walking, walk. When eating, eat.”&lt;/em&gt; -Zen proverb&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-6077421733015693098?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/6077421733015693098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/taking-monkey-out-of-multi-tasking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6077421733015693098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/6077421733015693098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/12/taking-monkey-out-of-multi-tasking.html' title='Taking the Monkey out of Multi Tasking'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/STiHeTRtHQI/AAAAAAAAABQ/pOOLgXXysiU/s72-c/multitasking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4800241953859484769.post-930581816708814538</id><published>2008-10-22T21:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:24:12.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"How to" Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_fbqV6BHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DnIO8_l31C8/s1600-h/Big+Bend+2007+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260168556107662450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_fbqV6BHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DnIO8_l31C8/s320/Big+Bend+2007+076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was grocery shopping for the week on a Sunday evening, my cart crammed with more stuff not on the shopping list and waiting to check out (pun intended!). I looked at all those magazines shouting out their wares. Almost every mag out there is a "how to". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How to look slimmer. How to get those wrinkles out. How to enhance what you have. How to satisfy your partner in 103 ways. How to shop. How to eat. How to vacation. How to be a parent. As I am glancing at those covers, I am wondering "Hey what about "how to be happy just as you are?" No wonder, we are a nation popping pills for anxiety, depression and stress. Wouldn't you worry if the only message you got was one of inadequacy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom called me last night and let me tell you I adore her. Best mom in the whole world, right. But she has been bitten by the "How to" bug as well. She tells me very seriously, "Shaku, I was reading an article on "how to feed your children..."I had to cut her short and say "Mom, you don't need to read a 101 article on that. You didn't have a guide to healthy living when we were growing up and you did just fine. You gave us good balanced homecooked meals (with the yogurt on the side), plenty of outdoor activity topped with some serious study time."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, let's not get the wrong impression here. I am not against "how to". I am sure Cosmo's 92nd issue on pleasing your partner is valid…I am just pro "contentment".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4800241953859484769-930581816708814538?l=browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/feeds/930581816708814538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-to-happiness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/930581816708814538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4800241953859484769/posts/default/930581816708814538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://browngirlinthering1.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-to-happiness.html' title='&quot;How to&quot; Happiness'/><author><name>Brown Girl In The Ring</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00654441780927423355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_hEEEUVOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/xg-gWtM0yvU/S220/ShakuSdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_neZ4ndzFJmQ/SP_fbqV6BHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DnIO8_l31C8/s72-c/Big+Bend+2007+076.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
