We all have choices

As children, we were easily entertained.  We loved fairs, carnivals, museums, amusement parks, parks in general, zoos, haunted houses, aquariums, water parks, those off the beaten path curiosities,... if it even seemed as if it might be fun, we wanted to try it.  It was this spirit of adventure that lead us to a series of fortune tellers, usually at fairs or carnivals.  It was all in good fun.  Sometimes we'd get one that was right on the mark and pretty impressive.  For children, this was extremely exciting. 

Once we all gave up a precious ticket to be read by a mysterious lady in a darkly colored tent.  Afterward, everyone sat on a nearby grassy hill sipping lemon shake ups and exchanging stories of what we were told.  This was pretty much how we did things - saw the fortune teller, bought refreshments/snacks, waited on everyone else, exchanged stories, mercilessly teased each other.  However, this time things were different.  Three of my companions, were told how they were going to die.  One guy was told he'd die by fire.  One guy was told he'd die of an incurable disease.  One guy was told he'd die by water.  You'd think everyone would laugh it off and be done with it.  This wasn't the case. 

The guy who was told he'd die of an incurable disease.  Is alive and still going strong.

The guy guy who was told he'd die by water, never swam again.  He never went boating or fishing.  He never drank water.  He didn't like rain.  He somehow never got wet when he went out in it.  According to his brother he took record breaking short showers and rinsed his mouth out with mouth wash when he brushed his teeth.  He took "die by water" very literally.  Everyone tried to snap him out of this irrational fear but gave in because he was truly terrified.  He was a nurse by profession.  He never married.  He never had children.  He passed away of cancer.

The guy who was told he'd die by fire, became one of the finest volunteer firefighters.  He never missed a call.  He never hesitated to assist even if the situation was dire, even if it required him to run into a burning building.  He was a loyal friend, husband, and father.  He served in the military.  He was a marine.  He was an engineer by profession.  He loved hiking, spelunking, video games and spending time with his family and friends.  He was heading home one day when his tire went flat.  He pulled over to the side of the road to change it.  From what we were told, he was killed on impact by another vehicle.  It was a tragedy but he lived his life instead of being afraid.

Just because you're told or even if there's evidence to support that something may occur, we all have choices.  You can't live life by being in constant fear. 

Never be caught like a child that doesn't know any better.

When I was young, we were brought up with proper manners.  This included not cursing.  None of the younger children cursed.  However, children learn by example.  Children aren't born with fear, hate, language, or even the most basic of behaviors.  These are all learned somewhere. 

My older cousins went to public schools.  They knew better than to curse; but, were more clever than the average child.  Instead of cursing in English or any language we knew our multilingual relatives would comprehend they picked words and phrases from a country that there was no way anyone would understand.  It was even quite humorous when the younger children who knew that those words were bad, if not what they meant, began parroting them.  After all, one simply doesn't cuss (at least not back then).  If you cussed, you did so for a reason.  You hurt yourself badly.  You were extremely angry.  As I mentioned before, it's a learned behavior.  It's also not terribly difficult to figure out.  If you slam your hand in the door and say something, even if you're laughing, if it's in another language any child knows that's a bad word. 

This went on for a while until one of my Aunts heard one of the little ones cuss in this other language because he was fairly deeply cut on the rose bushes.  Although concerned he was hurt, she was equally concerned about where he heard that word.  When asked questions most children do one of two things either shut down due to extreme trauma or fear or give you the most honest opinions or answers to your questions.  Trauma is inflicted.  Fear, dishonesty and lying are other learned behaviors.  That's something to consider when you're around small children.  They learn what's considered alright from the people they come in contact with, television, movies, school, and technology.  My younger cousin who had been injured by the rose bushes told my Aunt everything. 

She patched him up.  Told all of us little ones what that word meant.  She explained at length why we shouldn't say it.  She honestly didn't need to explain.  None of us really knew what it meant to begin with; we were simply parroting the older children.  She also told us which relatives spoke that language.  We watched her walk off to find our older cousins for a chat. 

What's the point?  The point is in business and life, you never know what the other person knows or what information and knowledge they posses.  All you know is what has been shared with you and what's common knowledge.  It's far simpler to add value to a discussion than to retract or back peddle your way out of a situation you were unprepared to handle.  Never be caught like a child that doesn't know any better.    

No one will ever know about the little blue bird

My maternal Grandmother was a quiet lady.  She was always smiling.  She loved to cook, sew, and garden.  People always said they could tell she was a kind, gentle lady of great character.  My Dad once told me that everyone knows she's kind and gentle by the way she acts in public but it's the way she acts in private that gives her great character.  This always confused me when I was young.  How could people know she was a lady of great character if they were never around to see it. 

My Grandmother was the sort of person who could grow sticks into thriving plants and nurse wounded animals back to health.  One crowded summers day, there was an awful noise in front of the house.  A car tried to swerve to avoid hitting these kittens crossing the street.  It hit one anyway and also took out a bird on it's windshield.  My little sisters were bawling.  No one else really took much notice.  It was just a little grey cat and a little blue bird.  When my Grandmother returned from her daily walk, the street had cleared out.  My sisters were still upset.  When she asked why they were unhappy, they explained everything. 

My Grandmother, much to the dismay of the other adults in my family, searched the sides of the road and the gutters and retrieved the two broken animals.  The little blue bird was already gone; but, she did nurse the little part Russian grey kitten back to health.  Everyone was so pre-occupied with the kitten that would live they assumed she discarded the little bird.  She didn't.  I saw her tuck it away.  Later I quietly watched her give it a proper burial and say a prayer when she was finished.  She didn't know I was there.  I understood what my Dad meant by having great character.  They're the actions you do when no one is around, no one is observing, and give you no merit.  It's what makes you a good person. 

No one will ever know about the little blue bird.  Yet everyone knows my Grandmother is a kind, gentle lady of great character.   

Waiting for Pizza

My brother:  What are you doing?
Me:  Making coffee.
My brother:  S'okay I'll get it.
Me:  I'm making iced...
My brother:  It's cold out...
Me:  I'm aware. (grins)
My brother:  Allllrrriiiggghhhtttt...
Me:  (sits back down and starts typing)
My brother:  What's that?
Me:  I'm blogging.
My brother:  On your tablet?
Me:  It's convenient.  Besides it's way easier than blogging on my phone.
My brother:  You blog on your phone?
Me:  Not easily.

The funny thing about this conversation is we both already know what's going to be asked and the answer.  We can practically finish each others sentences.  It's a comfortable exchange.  He's my brother.  We're not actually talking for information.  We're talking to hear each other talk while we wait for the pizza delivery guy.  In most cases, you won't have a pre-established relationship with the individual you're attempting to communicate with, exchange information, or gain information.  Having not only your goal in mind but also well researched steps for reaching that goal is key to achieving it.  If you think of communicating to achieve a goal in two steps:  communicating is similar to interviewing and achieving the goal is similar to being hired; it's a simple matter to develop the process.  Not every conversation is like waiting for pizza.  You need to be prepared.

How you're perceived, will determine how what you say, do, or present is interpreted.

As children we're taught to read thoroughly and objectively.  If you don't read thoroughly, you'll miss important details.  If you don't read objectively, your personal feelings, experiences, or opinions may change the meaning, intent, or accuracy of the reading or on the extreme end insert elements that weren't there at all.  As adults our reading skills may be further handicapped by relationships and experience.

A few days ago there was a short, lacking in substance and detail news article about a Utah school.  All it stated was 1) some of the parents were a little behind on the lunch account 2) this couldn't be determined until the student reached the cashier implying but not specifically stating that this had to be the first day of notice 3) lunches were thrown out in front of all the students 4) lunches were replaced by an orange and a milk 5) parents usually paid on accounts as notified -- That was all if you're pulling facts.  The rest was reporter commentary on the outrage, anger, and fall out.  This same article was posted by two of my friends.

(Names changed)

Liz is religious.  She's a business owner.  Most of her posts have some religious reference, inspirational text, or the words God or Jesus in them.

Rob is ex military.  He's an educator.  Most of his posts have some sort of political reference.  He posts news, satire, controversial topics.

They both posted the article.  The reactions, even from the same people, were different.  People tend to read the article as posted by Liz with Liz in mind.  They have empathy for the children and their families.  They speak of the injustice and the tragedy.  They talk of how no child should go hungry or be treated this way.  They speak highly of the one cafeteria worker that was helpless to do anything but had the compassion to cry at the plight of these children who remember.  This detail was in the fall out.

In contrast, Rob was viciously attacked.  I read things on free and reduced lunches.  I read the word freeloaders more times than I care to count.  I read the words irresponsible parents.  I read a lot of legislation that should be passed to do away with free and reduced lunches.  None of this was in this article.  The readers were associating past posts with the current one.  In other words they weren't reading objectively.  They read the article with Rob in mind.

Herein lies the danger.  How you're perceived whether or not it's entirely accurate, will in part also determine how everything you say, do, or present is interpreted.  While I believe you should always be yourself, I also believe there are lines that shouldn't be crossed.  An article is an article regardless of who presents it.  The facts don't magically change.  

Nothing you do is insignificant

The gaming industry is one of the most unique places I've ever had the pleasure of working.  Most of the time, you never meet the people you work with, never get past the avatar, or the user name.  I did qualify my statement with "most of the time".  After, you've worked with the same people for years as in any industry, you develop friendships.  A few of my friends and I were working on a game.  I was so absorbed in writing a small playfield back story my Dad and brother easily snuck up on me on their way to the kitchen.  There were times my Mom swore I was always the last one to the table.  My Dad was always full of questions.  He never ceased to want to be in the know with what my brother or I were doing.  That day his questions were directed toward me.  He wanted to know what a computer scientist, an engineer, a ceramic engineer, and a former military man were doing working on a video game.  Easy one.  I was writing the back story.  The guys each had their own things going.  I know they were working out the graphics, dimensions, and physics of the temple.  The material could be fictional but all the equations still had to add up.  My Dad laughed and my brother raised an eye brow.  "Why does a video game have to have a story or make sense?", Dad asked almost rhetorically.  I know what he was alluding to with his light-hearted question.  Technically it doesn't need a back story and it obviously never needs to make sense.  I told them we like for it to be as realistic as possible for immersion players.  Those are people who simply enjoy losing themselves in another world.  Besides, if we don't give one hundred percent to anything we chose to spend our time on, why would we expect anything we do to be successful.  This they understood. 

Nothing you do is insignificant.  Nothing you do is unimportant.         

The definition of normal differs from place to place.

Alyssah:  Momma, I met this guy and he's really weird.
Me:  What's weird about him?
Alyssah:  Well he's twenty three.  He doesn't drink or smoke but he goes out to dance; and, he's a virgin.  But, he's not crazy religious or anything.
Me:  Where's he from?
Alyssah:  Originally he's from the Chicago area but..
Me:  (smiling)
Alyssah:  What?
Me:  Think about it.  He's from the Chicago area.  They're lucky if they drive at that age.
Alyssah:  You're right.  Where he's from, he didn't drive or know anyone so there wasn't any reason to go out.  I guess it's not that weird.
Me:  It takes more than that to make a Chicago area boy weird. (smiles)
Alyssah:  (laughs) He actually pretty cool. (smiles)
Me:  Yeah?
Alyssah:  Yeah.

The definition of what is and isn't normal differs from place to place.  It can be behavioral, dietary, language - think colloquialisms (a danish is a sweet roll and a soda is pop is soda pop is a soft drink is a carbonated beverage), fashion, architecture, flora, and fauna -- to name a few.  Unless you familiarize yourself with the area you won't know what's considered normal.  It's worth noting that acceptable and normal are two entirely different things.  Normal sets a standard.  You never want to allow yourself to fall below acceptable on the normal scale.  It's far better to learn the influences of the area.  In this way, you can always improve yourself.  Falling above interesting on the normal scale places you into the exceptional.  It's an achievable goal you can strive toward.  

Anything but Roses

For as long as I can remember, my Dad always called us from his office on Mom's birthday or their anniversary.  He'd give us money to buy flowers to have delivered to Mom at her office.  He'd take care of the rest.  He always said "pick something nice that your Mom would like" with a smile then he'd roll his eyes and say "no roses".  My Dad grew up surrounded by rose bushes all his life.  He said they were far too common a flower to give to my Mom.  My brother and I always found this funny since my Dad could find the beauty in a dandelion.  He said if they weren't so common, they wouldn't be weeds.  After a time, we could see how a bouquet of wildflowers is infinitely more lovely and meaningful than a bouquet of roses.

After many years of buying flowers for our Dad, we learned many things.  My Dad loves my Mom in a way we can't put to words.  Trust me.  We've tried it.  Things have no meaning until you give them meaning.  It's nothing unless you believe it.  Things become what you perceive.  Those last three apply to most all things in life, not just selecting uncommon flowers for gifts.  

Frame of reference is important

When my brother and I were young we used to recycle heavily because the salvage yards in our area paid well and every teen-ager needs extra cash for the week ends for food, entertainment, and fuel.  After glass bottles became obsolete, one of our favored items were one liter bottles that returned a nickle in our state or in the neighboring state where we visit relatives.  We lived in a small town.  Many of our classmates were sheltered.  The drug store had a candy shop inside.  Many of the stores were mom and pop shops.  For the longest time our grocers all had bakers and butchers in house.  Quality tends to suffer when a community grows.  The reason I bring up the size of my home town and recycling in particular is because I wanted to share the importance of point of reference.  I can illustrate a point using a popular television series episode for example, but there are still those who'll lose the popular culture reference.  Not everyone shares similar experiences in entertainment, education, occupation, travel, readings, lectures, seminars, the arts, or life.  Your life experiences build your frame of reference. 

My brother and I had a friend from school who was fascinated with culture and was unintentionally, extremely naive.  I recall her asking me what Mi hi was with the fascination and sincerity of a six year old.  I had no idea what she was talking about but assumed she was mispronouncing something.  This was the same friend that was fascinated by the "foreign fruit" in our home.  They were California grown mangoes but we didn't like to spoil her illusions.  I thought perhaps she was merely reading the packaging of items that looked unfamiliar to her and mispronouncing some ingredient.  I only figured out what she was talking about because she asked why we bought different soda if it looked and tasted the same.  The Mi hi or 5 cents she was talking about was Michigan Hawaii Oregon - recycle for a nickel.  Her frame of reference was entirely different than mine and she made a lot of assumptions.  We didn't purchase that soda.  However, the person that purchased it for us took notice that we carried one liter bottles instead of two.  I'm afraid we didn't explain to our kindly Auntie that brand didn't matter.  We purchased the one liters for price, convenience, size, and we selected the one with our state on the recycling list on the back.  It's funny that our friend assumed the smaller size meant it was a different kind of product.

Your frame of reference is built by life experience.  Without the proper frame of reference, many misunderstandings can occur.  Some of these misunderstandings may not be harmless.  It can cause unnecessary frustrations.  It only takes a moment of your time to cater your frame of reference for your intended audience.  Even if you don't feel context is important, even if it seems as if anyone and everyone should be able to comprehend it -- read it again.  Always remember, clarity is best.

Everything you do or say intentional or not is absorbed by your children

The holiday season is a time for giving.  Christmas is important to my family.  We have a large family.  Holiday shopping is a leisurely experience that takes many lengthy trips.  On one of our final excursions, it was just me and my oldest daughter.  We decided to stop for a bite.  Since we were in a mall, I sat in the food court with our purchases while my daughter hurried off toward the little counter we decided to purchase from beforehand.  As I was waiting, a large family stopped next to our table.  They were arguing quite loudly.  The mother of this unruly group declared there was no point in whining they would take a bathroom break but wouldn't be able to stop to eat until they bought all the presents they had to buy.  She then started listing who they had left as they continued to argue across the food court.  What caught my attention besides the fact that they were too loud, obnoxious, and ill-tempered to ignore was she said "had to buy".  One of her, I assume, sons made the remark about Aunt Donna? and possibly her family? (I wasn't actually trying to over-hear this conversation) but what he said was "we don't even like them".  I often feel that the definition of the word Gift is lost on people.  A Gift is something you give freely of yourself because you want to in order to bring happiness to its recipient.  It's not an obligation.  Although, I admit I know people who have those.  It's certainly not something you spend time on, torment your family doing, or give to people you don't even like.  Strangers are different.  Random acts of kindness are a manner by which you can be grateful for all you've been blessed.  Obligations are best left to mail order, catalog, or kiosk purchases.  Select a nice fruit basket, seasonal item, gift card, or something from this individuals line of work or area of interest.  It's quite difficult to go wrong in this way if you insist on exchanging holiday items with people you don't like or is just an acquaintance you feel you should give something to for the holidays.  Personally, I send my Christmas cards and holiday greetings.  I never purchase a Gift I don't believe the recipient will love.  For me, it defeats the purpose of giving if you didn't want to give that person a gift in the first place.  Perhaps some people just need to re-evaluate their values not for themselves but for what they're teaching their children who are our future.  Later tonight, my family wraps more gifts.  There's an all night coffee shop with wonderful coffee and snacks.  Thus far, there are sixteen of us here.  The children are helping wrap gifts.  Perhaps, I'll get my brother and brother-in laws to pick up some coffee and snacks, some to go and some standing orders for whoever needs it.  It's a cold night tonight.

Everything you do or say intentional or not is absorbed by your children.  Their definition of many things in life not just Gift depends on you.