For the Love of Learning

I had an opportunity this week to participate in the Phi Kappa Phi honors initiation ceremony as an initiate. As a new member of the Phi Kappa Phi, I stood and affirmed my membership by repeating the motto, "Let the Love of Learning Rule Humanity." My teenage daughter sat to my right as I received this honor--and it occurred to me that the whole evening would probably make an impression on her. She will graduate from high school this year--and she knows that whatever decision she makes in regards to her studies, I'll support her. I will never tell her that "she can't do something." Like my mother, who also valued education, I believe that "if you can dream it, you can do it." I feel blessed to have had that support through my life and even more blessed to share the significance of the evening with my own daughter. 

The theme of the evening was "Scholarship with Service" and many of the speakers focused on returning our knowledge in the form of service to others. I grew up in a family where education was always highly valued. My mother was an educator, my grandmother was, too. There was never a lack of support when it came to my college education. When I chose to pursue my Master's degree for no other reason than "the love of learning," I was supported wholly by a family who understood. I've spent most of my adult life in academia--and I continually encourage others to pursue learning--in both formal and informal ways. I've never had anyone question the time, effort, and energy I've spent developing my academic interests.

That said, I've observed others who have not been as fortunate as I have been to find support where their education is concerned. Many of my friends, who have a dream to pursue their education, feel it is an insurmountable task; the time it will take seems overwhelming and the lack of familial support is discouraging. It was in a moment that evening that two things clicked for me: the passion I feel toward learning, and the sadness I feel when others don't have adequate support when it comes to their academic dreams. I see a mission clearly before me--and it's a responsibility I am excited to take on. Today, I am going to start down a new path--as an advocate for learning, to those who don't have one. 

From Up Here, It's All Small

Photography is a strange thing--perspective plays a major role in how a scene is captured. I've hung from cliff edges trying to photograph the intensity of a drop and stood directly under a work of architecture in attempt to translate its magnitude; but it's never the same as being there in person. Standing behind the lens of the camera, I find it helpful to give a reference point, to provide my audience a basis for comparison.  

Sometimes that's a person, sometimes it's drawing out the contrast between two opposites. Sometimes the image never translates unless an audience has experienced the scene for themselves. 

People are a lot like that--we stand by and try to understand the nature of a person, what drives them to make a decision, what motivates them to excel, or fail. 

I think trying to capture a person by looking through one angle of one lens is a lot like taking a photo, without a first-person perspective--or at least tremendous insight--we should to recognize there is always more to the scene to consider.

Pure Magic, Baby ...

I started golfing about eight years ago--and I've never professed to be "good" at it. In fact, I started out playing more or less as a social outlet because so many of my friends liked to get out in the spring and hit a few balls around. Playing alongside them seemed exciting and it meant that I got to explore a new adventure (which I'm always game for).

The thing about golf and the part that I love the most is that when I'm playing, I don't think about anything else. I don't think about what projects are due next week, or how I need to get the laundry done. I don't stress about parenting, or money, or family.

It's me. It's the game. Pure and simple.

The reason I'm blogging about this is not to tell you how much I love golf (anyone who knows me at all knows this). It's that I was thinking early today, as I played one of my first rounds of the season with one of my favorite people in the world, about how incremental experience adds up and equates to joy. I never intended to golf because I wanted to be a scratch golfer or because I needed to challenge myself, or because I had to add golf to my task list of things to accomplish. I started because I wanted to and magically, things have come together.

My improvement in golf has been gradual (I know I've got a long way to go), but it was born from the passion I feel about the thing itself and the easiness I experience when I'm out there. Today I realized that many things in life are like that; relationships, careers, hobbies, etc. When we pursue a passion, out of pure appreciation for something, we grow better at it from a deeper place. It isn't like being forced to practice piano or pushing through a subject in school; it comes simply--it just comes on its own. The take-away? Choose to pursue things that you're passionate about--find things that intrigue and mystify you in a way that you are eager to understand and make a life of those things--if you're lucky you may find yourself even making a living out of one of them.

Every Promise is a Present in Advance

I'm in the business of marketing--and it's a good business to be in--mainly because I love the psychology behind messaging. Every once in awhile I notice a little marketing tactic and I think, "that's really clever." I'm the first person to admit that I will become a brand loyalist when a company goes the extra mile to throw in the little things. It's all about the little things.

My tea, for example. It's one small pleasure in a morning full of busy-ness. I crack open my Yogi tea and there's a personalized little note, like a small hug from an old friend to start my day. I bought the tea because on an impulse, Ginger sounded good. I can't lie, the fact that they have killer packaging and the added touch of a personalized thought will keep me coming back for more.

What does that say about marketing? Maybe if we focus more on the little things, the "big picture" will come into clearer focus?

"Can" You Tip That?

It really seems like businesses are getting on the tip bandwagon these days--and I've just got to take a minute to rant about how absurd I think the whole thing is. I was in a drive thru over the weekend grabbing a breakfast burrito and saw this tip can. As the girl is taking my cash and handing me a bag with one item in it, it occurs to me that she has said approximately 10 words to me in total. How does that qualify as "service," people? I've worked in restaurants for gratuity and I'm far from a tightwad but I do recognize the distinction between service and simply being a cashier--that's what the girl at this window was, a cashier.

This is how I see it; if you have to walk over to my table, take my order, smile, bring me a meal and then clean up after me--and it's all delivered with a good attitude, I'll be gracious and leave a gratuity but the definition of this concept seems to have become muddled along the way. Maybe it's just me, but I really think that a gratuity should be earned. Merriam Webster defines gratuity as: "something given voluntarily or beyond obligation usually for some service; especially : tip"

So, if some one has gone beyond obligation to serve me, I'll go beyond obligation to tip. Makes sense, right? Am I just being an old, stingy lady here?

Wormholes

Funny how the most trivial things resonate with me--little things. Like associating the flavor of something you haven't tasted in awhile to a time you used to have it regularly (vague, I know).. but the other day I had a cup of coffee with creamer I haven't purchased for a few years and the flavor reminded me of Idaho mornings and riding up to the ranch to shoot photos. It was like a wormhole in time had sucked me back into a moment, if only for a moment.

Or how fresh beans reminded me of something I hadn't thought of in decades, sitting in a circle around my grandmother's house with buckets of green beans from the garden waiting to be snapped and canned. It made me want to plant a garden so that I can feel dirt under my nails and remember what it tastes like to eat food I've grown myself.

Time passes so quickly and the moments that seem inconsequential suddenly burst open with the biggest meaning. Lately, I just want to be home with my daughter, preserving and documenting our moments so that when I need to, I can take a wormhole back--if even for a moment.

How Did I Get So Lucky?

I read an article the other day that talked about the perception of luck. The theory goes something like this; a person who believes they are lucky, sees good fortune in situations that may otherwise be ordinary, thereby manifesting luck in their lives. People who believe they are unlucky see the difficulties in their lives as a sign of misfortune and feel as though they are being picked on by the universe. You know those people, right?

This is a hard-wired tendency, they say. You're either a glass half-full kind of person or a glass half-empty type. So, I've been thinking about how all my life, I've just sort of felt like I've had good fortune. Things just seem to work out for me somehow. Is this a result of my manifesting the positive things and choosing to disregard the negative (I've certianly had my share of heart-ache)? I'm a huge believer in Karma--the idea that whatever you put out in the universe comes back three-fold. It may sound new-agey, but I swear by this principle, and I've seen it in action--in my own life and others'.

Today, I feel lucky (well, yesterday, too). I was thinking about all of the things that seem to work out and how fortunate I am to have a little felicity in each day. Good fortune and luck isn't about the amount of lottery wins you rack up, or the things that fall into your lap. I've decided that it's about appreciating exactly where you are and what you have in that moment--about being present and learning to love a life that you've crafted. It's about seeing the beauty in change and having hope in the face of sorrow. A little bounce-back karma doesn't hurt, either.