September

Hello - today is the last day of September. I always thought this was a special day, not because of a friend's birthday or some holiday celebration but because it has typically signified the turning of a page, the changing of a season. So appropriate, then, that the weather suited itself with its calendar "age" and dressed the day in a cloak of misty sunshine with a low-60's temperature. Fall felt as imminent as the first day of October always signified to me, the march towards Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year's, winter hybernation. But always, it started with that last day in September.

What caused this rumination was the fact that I had not written for ages again and was reminded of this fact by those who curiously inquired as to when the next missive would pop up on the web. Since it was the last day of September, and autumn often drifted towards reflection in my youth - after the freshness of school wore off, of course. All these feelings came together on a lovely day to remember this passage of time with a few words as to a symbolically significant day.

Of course, every day is significant, as I am reminded when I finally shed the shackles of sleepiness (such not a morning person am I), but today is as good as any day to jot a few notes before hopping off to work. A few deliverables and a long drive await, but I have this crisp fall day to enjoy while it lasts

Long time, no talk

It seemed appropriate to drop a note on myself, being that it is August and I have not written a blog posting since the passing of our dog Rose over two months ago. See how things are going, update the happenings of a busy summer. Sitting in the atrium of the National Portrait Gallery was inspiring enough to make such a note all the more agreeable to craft, as my schedule has been too energy-sapping to allow for such reflection. There has been the home improvement which led to substantive re-decoration - the townhouse feels like a different residence. There has been the work project which led to a corporate venturing exercise - the job feels like a different occupation, which I suppose prompted the promotion. There has been the quietude of a house without the furry friend, which has almost led to a new dog but not quite (Rose is irreplaceable, after all).

There has been all these things and seemingly more that I cannot recount for the moment. But beneath it all, there is a clear feeling that life is bursting with all the promise of what living can be in the best of days - I am living it now. More living than chronicling it, quite true, but I do not necessarily mind the interruption from writing. And if I listen hard enough, over the American classics like Billie Holiday, Muddy Waters, and Frank Sinatra that lilt through the air of the Robert and Arlene Kogod Courtyard, I can hear the creative waters rushing through the inner recesses of my mind. Some day, I imagine a life where those creative waters will come gushing out on something more meaningful than a random blog posting, but that time will come when that time does come. In the meantime, I can attempt to realize something more than a quick missive every two months or so.

In Memory of Rose

Pets have an uncanny ability of ingraining themselves into the fabric of a household, so much so that their disappearance can cause great grief and disorientation to their owners. Such is the case with Rose, who passed from our household on Sunday.

An older dog when we took her in to our home last year, Rose was supposedly the runt of her litter, a fact confirmed by her diminutive 5-pound Pomeranian frame - too small for her breed but too big to be classified a "teacup." This suited her just fine, however, as she came to embody a singular personality as a dog among people, often little acknowledging some dogs and appearing frightened by others just as a hesitant human being might act around jumpy canines.

Rose embodied all of what defines unconditional love. She was raucous when we would leave the house and even more raucous when we returned, partly due to separation anxiety but mostly due to her sadness and excitement of being around us; she let us know her affection by remaining quiet and content in our presence, never making a sound or causing disturbance except to signal a potty break or needing some water. She was consistent in this undying love, our happiness, sadness, anger, disappointment, and resignation nothing more than condition for Rose to either cherish or downplay. She made clear her position through the vigor she showed at darting after either one of us when packing a suitcase or loading a car, always angling to be part of the action and bring her joy along as well. It was at these moments where she displayed her greatest spirit, comforted in Wendy's arms or seated in my lap, tongue wagging and eyes softened as if in bliss. We came to realize that her energy was geared towards her ultimate wish - to become one of the pack.

Perhaps this is also what made her passing hardest as we were out of town for my sister's graduation. Alone in a hospital room after turning blue from a weak heart, Wendy's parents helped her valiantly - and appeared successful in stabilizing her condition - before cardiac arrest ended her life. We had to take a 9-hour car ride back to find her lifeless body, a Homeric ending to hold her one last time after losing the heroic battle. We hope that she knew her pack was with her when facing her greatest challenge.

It is only natural to want to do more for any of our loved ones, particularly when there is no more for us to do. We would give more than we care to admit for one last day with them, much less to be there for them in their last moments. But there is also the realization that this is part of the natural order of things, and we remember what we can for the time that we had together; the memories often sustain us and cement those special bonds that define our own existence for what time we have ourselves.

For Rose, the list of warm memories grows as the pangs of each wave of sorrow passes. Neighborhood walks, eating plants in the front yard, fuzzy paws slipping, and little burps after scarfing food. Bullying Wendy's mom with her cute little bark, readying her arthritic legs to walk, laying so peacefully under the desk while we worked, jumping excitedly into her bed in anticipation of leaving with the pack, sneaking out of barricades ever so craftily, finding mommy hidden in the house, growling to protect her greatest love, and hopping on to her hind legs to show how much she wanted to join us on the couch. Showing her sad face after peeing in the house, even when it was our fault for waking up too late to take her out. Snuggling up next to us laying on the ground. Devolving into putty in my hands when bonding over a belly rub. Resting so peacefully in her bed so as to snore a light, sonorous note. Wearing her winter parka with pride and positioning her little head to see beyond the fur lining. And always waiting, without fail, for Wendy to come up the stairs at that magic hour after a long workday when we were all so happy to reunite again.

Life without Rose will be quieter, less colorful, and less welcoming when returning home. It will take a number of days before we put her stuff away in boxes and overcome this feeling of sadness that has replaced her exuberance. But over time, our memories of Rose will remain to fill the void, even if the pitter-patter of her steps no longer follows. And she would love to know that she was always - and will always be for however long our memory remains - a cherished part of the pack wherever we may go.

Flatness (as contemplated on a metro trip downtown)

Things look flat to me, richness in life abated and replaced by repetition of married adult life. My wife is extraordinary, so it is not an issue of person - it is an issue of internal struggle with satisfaction of the outcomes of the choices I have made to orient my married adult life. Before the married adult life, I had the single life and seemingly endless options, and choices could be made, changed, and remade within days. Now, this time will elapse in years and with the overhang of others factoring into the process, notably my wife and dog.

The rub is that I am extremely happy - I would not change this life for all the options in the world. Still, the world is flatter, and I am at a loss for why exactly this perspective change. I am reminded again of that influential book "Seasons of a Man's Life" that I read during business school, which articulates this feeling as a grappling with the phases of adult development. Even with self-awareness of a life's journey, such feelings cannot be avoided.

Growing Up

A bunny family for a wonderful easter - amazing to think that Passover and Easter are upon us again (source: Creative Thursday.com)

As a child, I often wondered what growing up would be like and how long it would take to get "there" (wherever "there" is). Now, I often wonder what happened to those childhood years, which accelerate much faster into the past than growing up ever seemed to speed into the future. I am reminded of this when I realize that Tax Day is fast approaching when I am still trying to make a small dent in New Year's resolutions.

At some point, this minor rumination led me to thinking about my recurring, half-baked creative aspirations. The thought of growing up becomes poignant because it seems that we are always "growing up" to get "there", that magical place where we fully realize ourselves to the pride and admiration of our parents, friends, and other loved ones. It becomes clearer that this self-realization never really happens, or rather that our striving for such perfection reveals some fulfillment to some of the promise but at the same time reveals more unsolved pieces of the puzzle. Mental models evolve, priorities shift, and the worldview takes on more dimensions than the aspirations of yesterday - and so the growing up process begins slightly anew and with the same yearning for purpose intact.

John Lennon was famously quoted as saying, "life is what happens when you are busy making other plans." I think he is partially right, except that the planning has deeper origins in that fundamental yearning to dream for the skies and grow up. Funny that I am just now realizing that growing up is more about a changing state of mind than another holiday season or birthday passing.

Reminiscent

Seat 8B, middle seat right before the exit row. Cramped quarters with non-reclining seat, something familiar to what was once a common occurrence in my days as a management consultant. The band Keane playing on the headset, the game Bejeweled jangling on the portable media player. Something seems to feel the same as what I once knew before, something nostalgic.

What happens to us as we age? For some, there is utter resistance, mid-life crises and “boy never grows up” syndromes. For others, there is utter resignation, “wise before your years” and “old soul” designations. For most, there is a waxing and waning between resistance and resignation, resulting in a push-and-pull of youth and age, often settling uneasily at an "up-to-the-minute" current yet ever-evolving state of mind.

For me, my settling is into another life far beyond what once was this experience so reminiscent in seat 8B. No longer single but happily married. No longer restless but settled. No longer wandering bachelor but breadwinner. Yet the words strangely flow again like they once did, emotional pangs registered through emo stirrings that Keane is apt to produce. The life I once led is still nearby, and I am reminded that we never grow old as much as grow deeper and more complex as the years pass. I don’t know what to make of this rumination, but I will settle for the comfort that this feeling brings: connection to my former self and completeness to my psyche.

A Great New Adventure

History parallels the leadership aspirations of generations. The triumphant few who establish the zeitgeist also determine the resulting outcome for their civilizations. The process is constant and ongoing but is revealed most plainly in times of marked change. This current period in world history is shining illustration of this process.

We are living through a dynamic period where surreal has become the new reality, best measured in economic results:

• US stock markets have fallen over 6x faster than long-term growth trends (51% drop in the Dow Jones Index over the last 18 months)
• Governments have spent trillions of dollars to stabilize results ($787B in the new US government’s American Recovery and Reinvestment Act on top of $700B Troubled Asset Relief Program established by the old US government)
• Unemployment has increase unabatedly (8.1% in March 2009 for the US economy, double its rate from 10 years ago)
• World economies have experienced similar impacts nearly simultaneously, from North America to Europe to Asia Pacific and the supporting economies in between

The rapid shift, particularly downward, causes a societal “re-set” on perspective and behavior. Values are questioned and habits are scrutinized with the goal of finding the root cause of such marked changes and the things that can be “fixed” to return to normalcy and growth. Those who feel that their handle on the rapid shift is well-grounded – or prescient from accurately reading the previous “all-too-telling” signs – make their voices heard more loudly than before. And most importantly, a new cast of triumphant few seize their opportunity to establish the zeitgeist that will determine the resulting outcome beyond this current state.

In this period, we are free to craft new visions for what the zeitgeist might contain:

• New concept of home – less a financial investment and more a family investment
• New concept of transportation – less an environmental enemy and more an environmental friend
• New concept of environment – less as conquered and more as preserved
• New concept of business – less about “getting rich quick” and more about “rising all boats”
• New concept of government – less about taking orders from the people and more about giving orders to the people

We are also free to wallow in what has become of our old visions for what the zeitgeist once was and could have been. In both freedoms, there is implicit choice and votes cast for what will ultimately become of our shared world. It is in this context that we must battle our fears and hopes to forge a new imperative that re-sets our perspective and behavior in a healthy manner.

As a student of history, I am struck by the increasing parallels this time maintains with the 1930’s. Global recession and economic nationalism, the residue of optimism from the 1920’s ultimately pummeled by the escalating fears of depression. Hope replaced by fear, not fully undone until nearly every nation tired itself from hostility and aggression in either world war or civil conflict.

As we stand on the precipice, a great new adventure awaits. I am hopeful that history’s recurring patterns can be undone. The future is not yet written. The present offers ample opportunity to craft new visions that promote posterity over personal and national glory. As always, the road is long but never as long as the thread that increasingly binds us together as citizens of a connected world. The question becomes what we will do to ensure posterity triumphs.