It is said that one of the 7 habits of highly effective people is to “Begin with the End in Mind.” That is a great sentiment if you are looking at work and wish to accomplish a certain goal. Each year in my teaching career, I would write a pre-opening day journal entry. It was entitled Goals, Expectations, and Anxieties. I wrote about what my objectives were for the year, what I hoped to accomplish, and what worried me about things I might have to address while trying to meet my expectations and goals.
Each year I filled up my journals with all the thoughts I had about teaching and my class, and each year as the year concluded I would re-read my journal for that year and see how well I accomplished what I set out to do. I also added some suggestions of things I might want to work on over the summer, prior to next year’s pre-opening day journal entry.
Now I’m retired and am no longer writing personal journals looking toward the end of anything specific I plan to do. However, I continue to write.
I do consider myself an effective writer. I think the things I write about are well written; at least I enjoy them. The difference for me from my school journal writing in these pieces of my writing is that I must start at the beginning in order to be more effective. In most cases, as I start to write, I have no idea where the end will be. For me, that makes me a more efficient writer. I take the spark that I have for the beginning and just write. Sometimes it’s memories, sometimes it’s fiction, there are times when it comes out poetically, and times when I editorialize. There are times when I start writing that I think I know where I want to go, and then go in a completely different direction. And each time I try, it works.
As many have said, my pieces seem to always have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
I still have a number of pieces that have yet to be completed, that I may have started in a group and though I finished that part for the group, the need for the overarching story continues. One of my end goals for those pieces is to complete them. Which I may or may not do. In those cases, the more I add to them, the closer I get to figuring out where I’m going. And yet, until I’m close to the end, I still don’t have the ends clearly defined.
So yes, to be highly effective in most cases it is important to have your end in mind. However, there are exceptions. And as I’m finishing this writing piece, I guess here is where I was trying to get to – At least until I begin the next one.
It was a warm day in March when I heard the news. Schools were being closed. At the time I didn’t know that it would be for the remainder of the school year. When I found that out, things changed. That meant that the rest of my days of subbing were at an end for the school year. As the year progressed it also meant that the following school year I would choose not to work in schools. It meant that the 5 remaining storytelling gigs I had been hired for, all in schools, were canceled.
As the month continued it also meant food and supplies that were usually easy to get were now at a premium. Simple things like toilet paper and cleaning supplies were not to be found, let alone Mac and Cheese.
Those first few months were frustrating and concerning but we managed to survive and continue, which was a lot more than can be said for others.
Time being what it is flows on. The more things change, the more we adapt. Shopping for supplies became easier, though there are still things that are hard to find. There were groups of people that, though far apart, became much closer. In my circle of interactions, compassion and empathy reigned. We had support when we needed it and acceptance.
Unfortunately, that was not the case everywhere. There were too many groups that focused on self-centeredness and distrust. There were those that refused to cooperate and support others. The disconnect between people created this chasm of failure. That was the most frustrating of all. And it still continues.
Where is the empathy and compassion, needed for our existence? Where is the altruistic mantra to follow? How do we as a people become a united group that speaks to each other and listens? All I see now are simultaneous monologues. Each group spouting their own ideals.
Be grateful you’ve made it this far. Listen to one another. Be open to change. Act for the good of each other, not just yourself. Become a better you. In that way, we can stand strong. We can work together to get through anything. With Thanksgiving coming upon us, I would be very thankful for that.
“Mom, I want to go out and play,” I said, feeling quite bored being stuck at home once again.
“I’m sorry dear,” was her quick reply. “You know you can’t go out yet. Especially today, I’m working on a special project.”
“But you’re always working on a special project,” was my retort. “Every day, every night you are doing something. If it’s not raining on someone else’s parade, It’s playing with fire or blowing something away. How come you get all the fun and I have to stay home with dad. All he ever does is sit around all day getting older. Borrring!”
Mom looked at me with forlorn eyes. There really wasn’t much she could do. After all, there wasn’t much I could do outside. It wasn’t in my nature to do the things that she did and as for my father, I guess I was expected to follow in his footsteps, but did you see all of the things he screwed up this year. He was aging faster than anyone has ever aged. I’d be surprised if he lasted another month the way he is going. And mom didn’t help. Her messing around all over the world certainly made things worse.
So what was I to do? Learn from my father’s mistakes? He tried to take it slowly, but boy did that not work out. The more he dragged on the worse it got. It would have been nice if he had some support from other people or mom. Some people tried to help my dad pass time, but others, just ignored him and my mom or worked against them. That didn’t help at all.
I understand that there is a new group of people that are willing to work with me and my mom to try and make my life more fun. I certainly look forward to that. Unfortunately, dad just crawls along. And mom, even though she knows I should take the controls from dad on January 1st, said that I won’t be effective at all until January 20th for whatever reason.
I guess I just have to wait my turn. But boy, do I have plans, once I’m in charge. Beware world; I’m planning on having a good time. I’ve even convinced my mom to let me help her some. I plan to work hard and with all those new people so that when I get old, everyone will remember what a great person I was. And when I have a kid, they will have a good example follow for generations to come.
“Mom, can’t I go out just a little bit, so I’m ready to take over?” I asked again, ready to sneak out.
“Your time will come. You just have to be patient. Now don’t you go sneaking out on me, you know it’s not easy to fool me.”
“Okay,” I replied. I guess I will see you all next year.
Arguments can be a productive way to resolve issues. They provide a forum for opposing views that when handled in a civilized manner can result in growth between all parties involved. However, it must be said that there are times when you argue with no reason or clarity, just to hear yourself. It is not productive, in fact, it can be dangerous.
I was going hiking with my friend Ronald on the Appalachian trail one summer day back in the late 1960s. We had brought with us enough food to last a couple of days and plenty of water. Ronald convinced me that he knew the trail very well and all I needed to do was follow him. This worked for a while until we got up near one of the mountains on the trail. I don’t remember the name of the mountain, but its distinct feature involved a very steep climb. As we reached what appeared to be the middle of the climb, I noticed that there was a level path that led off to the left, that looked pretty clear and safe. I suggested that we take that path, as I was getting tired.
Ronald assured me, again, that he had done this hike before, and that the trail that I was suggesting was a dead end, where we might get lost. So onward we climbed. The higher we climbed the harder it was to move forward. In fact, it didn’t even look like we were on a trail. I hadn’t seen any Appalachian Trail markers in a long time.
I suggested that we stop and go back. Ronald was adamant that we were almost at the peak of this mountainous trail and that the view would be great. Looking up, all I saw was the mountain as it continued up to the sky.
This was where we had our argument. I wanted to return safely to where I was comfortable and knew there was a visible path. Ronald just talked about how he had done this and how I should trust his expertise. All he could talk about was how great the experience was when he last climbed the mountain.
We went back and forth for a long time, neither of us willing to back down from our views. I was about to capitulate and follow Ronald up the mountain when I happened to ask him when was the last time he climbed this trail.
“Oh, it was way back in the 50s. I went with my dad. It was great. We made it all the way to the top and I could see everything.”
When I got Ronald to be more specific I found out that he was about 3 years old when this happened and his father had him on his back most of the way, hiking up the mountain. He also neglected to tell me that they needed a rescue helicopter to help airlift them both down the mountain back to the trail. But according to Ronald, it was a great hike.
It was at this point that I just turned around and started hiking back to the trail. Ronald wasn’t quite sure what my problem was but agreed to follow me back.
Sometimes I really need to listen to my mother’s voice in my head that says, “Be careful when you’re with Ronald. There’s something wrong with that boy.”
You know sometimes you have to wait a long time for something you never thought you could be part of to happen. You try to imagine it and feel as if you have the skills needed to deal with it. But time is a relative thing and that is not always what is needed to succeed.
As you sit and ponder you become less and less concerned about it and when it leaves your mind completely it happens.
You are sitting on a boulder in the campground. You watch the sky as day becomes night. That is when you see it. It is a star. A very bright star and it is moving quite fast. Maybe, you think, it is a jet or other flying object, but no, you can tell exactly what it is, for it looks like the sun only smaller.
As you watch you see underneath it a bright blue light. This confuses you. Lights don’t shine without something to light them. This you ponder. The star is brighter than any star you have seen before. The light on the other hand, though visible, wavers as it seems to get closer to you.
You think to yourself that this is some sort of mirage caused by the tedium of the day and your tiredness. You even pinch yourself to see if it is a dream. That pinch hurts, this is no dream. Then again, wouldn’t a pinch in a dream hurt as part of the dream? You ignore that thought.
Your mind tries to focus. Time passes. The blue light gets closer. The star on the other hand begins to fade. You try to get up.
You can feel the ache of every muscle as you try to move. You’ve been sitting too long. Slowly, as you rise the blue light disappears. You rub your eyes to get clarity. The star is no longer there. But then again neither is the boulder you were sitting on.
You look around you and the terrain is different. There are fields of well-manicured grass. There are gardens of exotic flowers. There are strange-looking artifacts that don’t look like anything you have ever seen. And surrounding it all there is a bubble of clear glass. You are small compared to the dome around you. There is no one else that you can see around you for miles. This confuses you even more. You do not know where you are.
Time is an interesting thing. Sometimes it goes fast and other times it drags on. What has happened? What is real and what is not? Once you were in Roswell and now you are here. You wish you were a doctor or scientist and had the answers. But you are not. Back in Roswell, you are just another storyteller with time to tell a tale that few will believe.
As a reporter for the local newspaper, I’m told to always keep my ears open and listen to all that is happening around me. It’s rare when I’m not listening. I always carry a pad with me so that I can jot down interesting tidbits of information gleaned from others’ conversations. This has caused a number of issues in relationships that I’ve had. The person I’m with might be telling me something important or sharing good things that they have accomplished, but I’m listening to the conversation of the people sitting behind me. The person that I’m with usually gets pretty upset that I’m not paying attention to what they are saying. When they ask me who am I listening to, I can’t tell them. I play dumb. In theory, eavesdropping is a crime in this state and I’m reticent to admit that that is what I was doing. That might be why I’m still single.
But sometimes, I am by myself. It can be on a subway, or a restaurant, or just walking on a crowded street. That’s the time I try to really focus on the interactions around me.
As it happened that was the case yesterday morning when I decided to stop for a cup of coffee and a buttered roll at the local diner before depositing $300 in cash at the bank on my way to work. I found an empty table, made my order, and stared at the television monitor that they had on over the lunch counter, while I waited for my coffee to come. The TV was tuned to the local news station. As is usually the case, there was enough noise from customers, that I couldn’t hear a word the field reporters were saying on the TV, and closed captioning was off. What I did notice was that the camera shot showed the outside of the diner I was in. I was curious about what was happening.
It was then, that I caught the conversation of the two people that were behind me.
“I’m telling you he knows,” said someone with a very gruff voice.
“He doesn’t, I tell you. If he did there would be cops all over the place.” a rather high pitched, anxious sounding voice replied.
“All I can say is that someone out there has a camera and a microphone. And if they recognize us and saw us coming in here, we’re sunk.” was the first speaker’s retort.
I was very tempted to turn around but didn’t want to give away that I was listening in on what they were saying.
“Why don’t we just pay up our check and then leave, separately. You’ve got the stuff. They can’t follow us both, and why should they anyway, as long as we don’t look suspicious.” This time I was sure it was a female voice. If I were to guess, she was in her early twenties.
“Sure,” responded her partner, “I get caught, and you get away scot-free. No dice. I’m not taking the fall for this alone.”
“Then let’s just do it. Slide it under your chair and then we’ll both get up and leave. Let the next person that sits here get caught with it. That was the plan.”
Now I was really curious.
“That’s a lot of potential cash we’re giving up,” said the gruff guy. “You know how much this is worth to the right people?”
“It’s only money, and besides it’s not like we can’t get more of them. We’ll find someone else and just set up a new drop.”
The next thing I heard was the people behind me getting up and leaving. I turned slowly to get a glimpse of what they looked like, but they were already gone. I looked carefully where they were sitting and noticed an envelope underneath one of their chairs. I went over and picked it up. That’s when it happened. Three undercover cops quickly grabbed me and the envelope and said I was under arrest. They read me my rights, searched me, and took me out of the diner to a waiting patrol car. It didn’t help that I was carrying $300.00 in cash. Things quieted down in the diner as we were leaving. I overheard the reporter on the TV talking about the horrible potholes in the street outside the diner.
I tried to explain to the cops who I was and what I was doing, but they refused to listen. I would have shown them my notes, except I never took any, as I had been so captivated by the conversation that was going on behind me that I forgot to.
Long story, short I was initially charged with criminal possession of counterfeit medical prescriptions. It took a while for my newspaper’s lawyers to come down to the police station and clear me.
It turns out that the whole thing had been a sting operation in which the two people I was listening to were supposed to be dealers of counterfeit prescriptions for drugs. They were to leave the prescriptions in an envelope under their chair and the suspect was to pick up the envelope and leave cash. As luck would have it, the payment was supposed to be $300.00. In theory one of the sellers sitting at the table was to come back claiming that had they forgot something and pick up the cash. I eventually found out that the real criminal was the waiter that had served me.
Sometimes it pays to listen to things happening around you. But you got to be careful and make sure that what you are hearing is actually real.
When I was a child, my friend Ronald and I found this baby bird on the ground near the woods by my house. We decided we were going to keep it. Ronald was the kind of person that had to have his plans all written out before he would do anything. So we thought we should go back to his house get ourselves a notebook and some colored pencils and write out everything we needed to have before proceeding.
Of course, we hadn’t gotten far before we realized we couldn’t just leave the bird on its own. He might fly away or be captured by some wild animal. I decided to forestall the trip to Ronald’s house and let him go by himself. Then I went back to where we spotted the bird.
I needed some way to carry the bird but was somewhat skeptical of the health implications If I actually picked it up in my hand. I decided that the best way to carry the bird was in my shoe.
I took off my right shoe and somehow coaxed the bird into it. Now I had to decide where to bring the bird. I figured since Ronald was the note taker, that I could be the bird taker. I thought that my house would be the best place for the bird.
Now you should know this was not the first time I brought a stray animal into our house. And after the last worm incident, my mother was pretty clear on bringing stray animals into the house. Luckily for me, my mother was out shopping so when I got home no one was there. I needed a place to stash the bird until Ronald came over with his notebook.
This was on a Wednesday afternoon. What’s special about Wednesdays is that we always eat Chinese take-out on Wednesdays. Knowing that my mom would not be cooking anything for supper, I figured that the safest place for the bird was in the oven. Since the bird was now sleeping in my shoe, I didn’t want to wake it up, so I put both the shoe and the bird in the oven and then called Ronald.
When Ronald came over the first thing we decided to do was to name the bird. After some discussion, we named it Woody, since we found it in the woods.
We then had to figure out what to feed it. Worms would have been the best choice, but since the worm incident, I was not allowed to bring any worms into the house. Well, what do other birds eat? This was before the Internet, so we had to figure it out ourselves. After much thought, we decided that since birds fly and flies fly, they must eat similar things. We had observed that flies tend to eat droppings from other animals. And since we were animals and we certainly made droppings, that seemed like the easiest thing to get access to. So that was the direction we took.
It was easy to get the droppings, however, how to feed them to the bird was a bit of a problem. We got one of my parent’s china dishes, the one with the flower design, figuring that birds must like flowers, placed the droppings on it, and put the plate in the oven too, hoping that if the bird woke up, it would enjoy a snack.
It was then that Ronald’s mother called and told him that he had to come home for his violin lesson. He left but we said we would meet again after the lesson to finish our plan.
I checked in on the bird, who was still sleeping, and then decided to go upstairs and read one of my Superman comics.
I must have fallen asleep for the next thing I heard was this loud scream coming from the kitchen. I went downstairs and stood in the shadow of my mother. There was no joy on her face. In fact, if looks could kill, suffice it to say, I wouldn’t be writing about this right now.
My mom made me take the bird outside and release it, which it seemed was exactly what the bird wanted since it quickly flew up in the air, circled me a few times, leaving a number of its own droppings on me. I guess it didn’t know that humans don’t eat droppings.
Following that, I was sent to my room for some unspecified amount of time. I also wasn’t allowed to play with Ronald anymore.
As for the china dish, I don’t remember that it ever was used again for a meal.
For Harry it was a simple question, “Should I go or not?”
Julie looked at him with frustration on her face, “It’s your decision, make up your own mind.”
“But why do I have to make the decision. You were invited too.”, he replied.
“But they’re your friends. I’d only go because you work with them.”
Harry had no answer for that. “So we should go. I mean she invited the whole office.”
“Really,” she said, “Just because everyone else is going you’ll go.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be the only one that missed the party.” Harry looked a little worried. “I mean, she is the boss and my job may be impacted by not going.”
“So then go, decision made, just don’t expect me to be sociable with those opinionated self-know-it-alls you work with. You don’t even like them yourself.”
“So then maybe we shouldn’t go.” Harry was now getting very confused, which was not unusual.
“Like I said it’s your decision,” Julie said matter of factly.
“But I want your opinion.” Harry pleaded.
Julie was quick to respond, “But you’re not going to get it, since it’s your party.”
Since the party wasn’t for another hour, Harry just sat there perplexed, After about ten minutes of letting his mind wander, he made a decision.
“Okay, I’ve decided. We’re going to the party.”
Julie just looked at him and replied, “Really? That’s what you decided? Whatever.”
Harry was totally perplexed. “So you don’t think we should go?”
Julie answered, “I didn’t say that.”
“But you inferred it. You always do this to me. You tell me to make the decision then you tell me it was the wrong one.”
“I never tell you your decisions are wrong. I just think there are better choices.”
Harry was getting very frustrated. “This is a yes or no question. A better choice means that I made the wrong one!”
“You said it, not me.” Julie scoffed. “I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.”
“What do you mean? You’re not coming?” Harry asked.
“You did say we were both invited, that means that I have a choice too. I decided I’m not going.”
It was at that time the phone rang. Julie picked up. “Yes, he’s here, hold on.”
Harry got on the phone and listened for a while. He thanked the person on the other end and hung up the phone. He turned towards Julie and said, “The party’s canceled.”
“Why, what happened?“
Harry looked at her with a smile, “It seems the boss and three of those opinionated know-it-alls that you were so vocal about, have tested positive for Covid-19. We have the next two weeks together in self-quarantine. So what should we do?”
