I have not posted in a long time - my most recent post was actually from weeks ago and I was just waiting to follow up on one thing before I published it. This happens sometimes: you get really close, and that's when you stop. I call it the 90/10 rule - 90% of your customers take up 10% of your time, and the other 10% take up the 90%. Or you get a project 90% done, or a PhD 90% complete, or you get 90% of the way to....whatever - and then, wham! You stop and cannot get past that last 10%. It happens. It's annoying but it happens. In fact, sometimes I think artists are basically Those Who Finish. We all have ideas. We all think, "Hey, I should do THIS." But how many of us actually do it? Not 90% of us. Probably not even 10% of us. I maybe execute to completion one idea out of 500 or 1000.
But I want to talk about an idea that did in fact happen - it was brought all the way from initial vague concept to actual event in reality, and I was there for the entire process (indeed, helped make it so). It was a big event at work - a Very Big Event, one of those that are impressive because the company hasn't done it before, really, on that scale.
Have you had these ideas at work, these projects that are a bit bigger than the team can handle, but, for one reason or another, you all have to try and do it anyway? Maybe it's the final push for business before bankruptcy arrives, or maybe - as it was in the case I personally experience - it's something positive, new, innovative. You stretch yourself and your team not out of desperation but out of desire and passion.
I've mentioned my absolutely terrific boss before, but I don't know if I mentioned that one of her specialties is her innovative and ambitious spirit, which is a heady combination; you can get things done if you have a leader who has great ideas and a drive to get them done. The third thing you need - which, in this case, we also had - is a company that will say, yep, go for it: put on this big event that will get everyone inspired. Get everyone educated, excited and empowered. I won't go into too many details because - you know me, I'd like to stay off the distracting specifics (the brand names, as it were) so we can concentrate on the structure beneath - but I'll say a few things so you can get the idea I DO want to talk about.
It was a 2-day event (same schedule both days, for the most part), with over 2000 employees from over 35 locations ranging over hundreds of miles (and two states), and 200 vendors in a massive tasting-and-connection fair in one of the cavernous pavilions at Fort Mason. We took over three buildings, with multiple classrooms, two theaters, a parking lot full of food trucks (a private mini-Off The Grid, if you will), and dozens of buses. We put sod down on the front parking lot and set up an art gallery (of art the employees made out of recycled items in the stores, some of them VERY cool); we had photos booths and a series of speakers and a battle of the bands and a streaming live cast out to the retail locations. At one point, a vendor offered to bring a live cow and set up a corral (mother AND calf, actually) as petting zoo and photo op, but Fort Mason drew the line there.
My point here is that it was large and elaborate. I worked on it, off and on, for six months, and I worked on it intensely, basically full time, for two of those; it took over my job. It's over now - the event was last week, finally - and I've slowly going back to remembering what my job used to be before The Big Event ate it. And not only had I never done anything on this scale before, but almost no one on the core planning team - nor indeed, anyone else in our region - had. One woman had participated in some large, premiere event planning, and she was invaluable. But for her, and in many aspects, it was the blind leading the blind.
Now, about a week or so the event, I had a strange experience upon arriving at work, driving up to the parking lot (which is right next to a public transit hub with pedestrians, although not heavy traffic) - I saw two people, arms linked, trying to cross the street. They both had the white canes of the visually impaired, and one of them was - yes - leading the other. And I thought, wow - you always hear about the blind leading the blind, and how futile / ironic it is, but it wasn't so bad. They seemed ok. They were together, and figuring it out; they were going along fine and I could see they were going to reach their destination safely. So, I had hope. Maybe this big project was going to be OK.
Because we had our doubts, oh yes. We struggled through a lot of it - trying different combinations of different people meeting at different frequencies talking about different things until we figured out who needed to know or do what and at what time, and who needed to tell or ask someone else about it. We figured out how to decide things and how to do things as we went. It was even harder because this event was new - we'd done similar events, biannually (we were following a tradition) but it was always smaller, restricted to just the managers, the leaders, and now we were blowing it up by almost tenfold in scope. It was a radical proposition, and as time went on and the event came closer, we all began to realize just HOW big it was and HOW important it was we not just pull it off, but knock it out of the park.
As the days went on - and the Big Days drew inexorably near, with me wavering between excitement and apprehension almost daily, and definitely nightly - we went through many cycles of hope and doubt. We trusted each other, we bumbled, we picked ourselves up, we picked each other up, we tried to stay on top of it, and in the end, when we got VERY close, we shrugged and said, "Well...we *think* we've thought of everything."
And there was no way to check on that - no way to rehearse. Oh, we got the speakers into the theater - did I mention the dozen or so external speakers, including not one but TWO keynotes? - for a brief A/V check and two minutes on stage to get a sense of it; we got the four bands for the battle of the bands set up and briefly sound checked, and we did a full run-thru of the Onion-style faux company "update" newscast (I got to write a few jokes for it, whoo hoo) a few times because of all the complicated video, sound and light cues, but no REAL rehearsal. You can't rehearse 200 vendors setting up in a couple of hours, or 2000 employees getting on and off 40 buses. The theater schedule - I ended up as the stage manager (well, in liaison with the professional tech guys we hired that did 90% of the work; I got that crucial 10%!) - was tight, literally minute by minute. This happened at 10:57, and this at 10:59, and this at 11:00. It was that tight.
One of the great things about this event, besides the obvious excitement and experience gained - was the size of it, and how that taught us all something. We all had to trust each each other, because no one person could do it all. We planned it together, and we had to execute it together - and we needed a ton of bodies (about 100 per day) to do it. And even though I had a hand in almost every aspect of planning - I was essentially the communication / coordination person which included being somewhat aware of what EVERYONE was doing so I could point out gaps and close loops - I was unable to do everything on the days of the event. You had to pick a place and get that part done. The other woman who did a huge amount of logistical planning (she who had experience) was almost everywhere at once, but the theater was a separate entity that needed its own attention.
We stayed in contact - all of the employee volunteers who worked the event - via walkie talkie; the key folks had the headphone thing, important in the theater as you need to be able to hear what the techies are saying without the audience hearing. We learned how to use them and we said "over" and we spoke with clarity and brevity, and made some jokes - nothing like when someone says something funny over the general event walkie-talkie channel. You don't hear laughter (because you know, no one presses the "talk" button just to laugh) but you know it was funny. It was fun - I got so used to the team in my ear, I missed it when it was over....it was lonely just hearing my thoughts. I'd gotten used to half-listening, chiming in when I had the answer, or doing two things at once.
In fact, that's one of the things I want to say ABOUT the event - which I *am* leading up to, sorry about all the prelude, but it's necessary to convey the ideas I'm exploring here - is that one of the many things I learned was how to trust others, and how rewarding it is. When people come together as a group to make something happen, it's pretty magical. It's kind of what humans love to do. It's the essence of fun: the only thing better than that moment of triumph when one can say "I did it" is when we can say "We did it." I knew this particular "we did it" would be great, or we all hoped it would be (remember, we didn't know - for months we planned our little hearts out but didn't know), and then when it over, it was even better than I expected.
For it was indeed a success. A pretty big success. People responded. They were happy the moment they walked in - it blew their minds a little bit. They walked by me and congratulated me, it was so clearly a wonderful event for everyone. We were all there, and we were all happy - happy together. (Well, OK, a few little snafus, and always a few people who have a bummer time for whatever reason, but in BIG general, the event was beloved). People wrote, followed up - from vendors to employees to executives - said how amazing, inspiring, energizing it was. People said they were high, floating from it - they wanted more.
Whew. We - all the "we's": the core team, the bigger team, the region - were relieved, delighted. Yay! It worked out. The risk was big, the reward was big. I'm not too much of a risk-taker, and this event stretched me not just professionally (some of it I literally did NOT know how to do at first) but also mentally, spiritually, personally. I had to trust in others, I had to let go, I had to step up, I had to have faith. I had to pay attention, and keep going, and support others, and get freaked out so that others could support me. Everyone else had to do it too.
And one of the things that most struck me is how competent all of my co-workers are. You hear about most office workers (my company is retail but me and those doing this were from "regional") complaining about their lame co-workers, people failing to pull their own weight, doing and saying the wrong thing. The incompetent boss is an American cliche. But not here, not my co-workers - they smack of competence. They are all uber capable.
We outlined the idea for everyone working the event, said "We THINK this is how it should happen and what you should do, but we don't know so be ready to do anything at any time." And they DID. They all jumped in, and they got it, and ran with it, and pulled it off. And speakers and vendors and employee guests were walking around saying, this has been so smooth. My co-workers were all rock stars, and at the end when we got the pleasure of "We did it," it was made even more sweet by the fact that it really was *everyone.*
And this lead me to thinking of what it all meant, on a higher level. Like traffic, what is teamwork here on earth for? Why have teams? Why have pleasure as a response to a group of people all banding together to accomplish a common goal? What design humans that way, or why grow ourselves that way? In a practical sense, I can see teamwork is a crucial component of so-called "civilization." You can't get pyramids built or symphonies played or planes assembled or many of the wonderful things in the world unless you can get a group of people to get together, think of it, figure it out and then do it.
But why get things done? What's so good about group accomplishment? WHY build the pyramids or St. Peter's? Why watch Cirque du Soleil or go to Disneyland? I mean, sure, those are fun. But really, I think what's behind it is - well, God. (Stay with this.) People get inspired by each other - by seeing others create and play at being full alive. They see a jazz trio or a Frank Lloyd Wright building and they say, wow! Look at what THOSE people did. What could *I* do? Could I do something like that? Am I capable of more than I think? I'm going to try.
I'm inspired - motivated to action. Inspiration: originally, it meant breath, the breath of god (from Latin inspirare, from spirare, 'to breathe'). Respiration, inspiration are related. And it never occurred to me before this Big Event, but teamwork is ultimately a glimpse into the divine. The divine is ultimately collective. In my non-Christian spirituality - not Buddhist, but that's close; think Alan Watts - we're all connected; no, not connected, because that implies we're fundamentally separate, individual entities that have come together. Rather, we are all of the same substance already, merely in varying forms. We mistake the forms and think they are separate entities, but that is the great illusion of life. We are one; there is no "we," really.
Normally, one doesn't see the divine in teamwork. Who can blame us? It's not very obvious, but I experienced it recently. As I said I learned so much in the process of planning and then successful executing this event, it blew my mind; so much of it was a delightful surprise, but none of it so much as this ability to feel myself as part of this giant group entity, all heading in the same direction, all, basically, loving the same thing, and bringing it into being in the world. For that is what companies do - they bring things into being, be they cars or gasoline or advertising. Some of them are primarily destructive, which is a big issue, but my company is pretty creative, in the literal sense - we sell food that has been grown or raised: born, in some case, and alive, in all. There's birth and creation in my business.
And this event was about that - be creative, we told our employees; if you have an idea, make it happen That's what makes our company good and our jobs, our days, fun. Here's some education, entertainment (I won't go into the story of the wild, urban, hip, sexy locally known marching band - a big surprise to start the thing off with a bang, but they required management, some of which was up to me, and even so they got a little out of hand for some of the more conservative element), some ideas from outsiders and each other. Here's some time to focus on and discuss what matters, and also eat some good food. Now, go forth and make meaning with your teams.
As usual, I'm sure most of the people who experienced this event would not have gotten the same thing from it as I did, but I think we all felt some version of it. It took a few months from my life, and, in the end (even though I was getting paid for it, it was also a labor of love), it was worth it. I had a great time backstage, with its dramatic moments and green rooms antics and...oh, just that fun hush and expectation and excitement that the stage can provide. I got to watch the thing getting built and getting broken down - there's a peculiar satisfaction is riding a big event from beginning to end, seeing the whole thing. I thrived in the bustle.
I got sexy, sweaty hugs from the semi-scantily clad band - yes, at one point I had to make the call as to whether or not one of them could go on the vendor show floor in his costume or if he needed to put on pants. I thanked him for making it part of my work duties that day to make a call as to whether or not someone in my temporary employ could remain pantsless (I suggested he put on pants). I got about a zillion hugs from the many co-workers I know but don't often see - it was a like a giant family reunion. (After a decade in one place, people get to know you, what can I say?) I got to get out onstage a couple times (pinch-hitting for the absent), which of course I secretly desired. I ran around with a feeling of importance, urgency, competence, and then, eventually, the knowledge that we had done it. We had pulled it off. We did it.
That's basically what I wanted to say. If you ever get depressed and lose your faith in the human race, I suggest finding a group of like-minded, competent people, setting a lofty but attainable positive and life-affirming goal, and then throwing yourselves into it with a passion. I have no idea if it usually comes out so well, but it did this time, and it was glorious. It was, for me, a teeny tiny glimpse, through the dark glass of this reality, of, as Alan Watts might say, what the angels sitting around the throne of God do, when they sing the universe into existence, all together now.
But I want to talk about an idea that did in fact happen - it was brought all the way from initial vague concept to actual event in reality, and I was there for the entire process (indeed, helped make it so). It was a big event at work - a Very Big Event, one of those that are impressive because the company hasn't done it before, really, on that scale.
Have you had these ideas at work, these projects that are a bit bigger than the team can handle, but, for one reason or another, you all have to try and do it anyway? Maybe it's the final push for business before bankruptcy arrives, or maybe - as it was in the case I personally experience - it's something positive, new, innovative. You stretch yourself and your team not out of desperation but out of desire and passion.
I've mentioned my absolutely terrific boss before, but I don't know if I mentioned that one of her specialties is her innovative and ambitious spirit, which is a heady combination; you can get things done if you have a leader who has great ideas and a drive to get them done. The third thing you need - which, in this case, we also had - is a company that will say, yep, go for it: put on this big event that will get everyone inspired. Get everyone educated, excited and empowered. I won't go into too many details because - you know me, I'd like to stay off the distracting specifics (the brand names, as it were) so we can concentrate on the structure beneath - but I'll say a few things so you can get the idea I DO want to talk about.
It was a 2-day event (same schedule both days, for the most part), with over 2000 employees from over 35 locations ranging over hundreds of miles (and two states), and 200 vendors in a massive tasting-and-connection fair in one of the cavernous pavilions at Fort Mason. We took over three buildings, with multiple classrooms, two theaters, a parking lot full of food trucks (a private mini-Off The Grid, if you will), and dozens of buses. We put sod down on the front parking lot and set up an art gallery (of art the employees made out of recycled items in the stores, some of them VERY cool); we had photos booths and a series of speakers and a battle of the bands and a streaming live cast out to the retail locations. At one point, a vendor offered to bring a live cow and set up a corral (mother AND calf, actually) as petting zoo and photo op, but Fort Mason drew the line there.
My point here is that it was large and elaborate. I worked on it, off and on, for six months, and I worked on it intensely, basically full time, for two of those; it took over my job. It's over now - the event was last week, finally - and I've slowly going back to remembering what my job used to be before The Big Event ate it. And not only had I never done anything on this scale before, but almost no one on the core planning team - nor indeed, anyone else in our region - had. One woman had participated in some large, premiere event planning, and she was invaluable. But for her, and in many aspects, it was the blind leading the blind.
Now, about a week or so the event, I had a strange experience upon arriving at work, driving up to the parking lot (which is right next to a public transit hub with pedestrians, although not heavy traffic) - I saw two people, arms linked, trying to cross the street. They both had the white canes of the visually impaired, and one of them was - yes - leading the other. And I thought, wow - you always hear about the blind leading the blind, and how futile / ironic it is, but it wasn't so bad. They seemed ok. They were together, and figuring it out; they were going along fine and I could see they were going to reach their destination safely. So, I had hope. Maybe this big project was going to be OK.
Because we had our doubts, oh yes. We struggled through a lot of it - trying different combinations of different people meeting at different frequencies talking about different things until we figured out who needed to know or do what and at what time, and who needed to tell or ask someone else about it. We figured out how to decide things and how to do things as we went. It was even harder because this event was new - we'd done similar events, biannually (we were following a tradition) but it was always smaller, restricted to just the managers, the leaders, and now we were blowing it up by almost tenfold in scope. It was a radical proposition, and as time went on and the event came closer, we all began to realize just HOW big it was and HOW important it was we not just pull it off, but knock it out of the park.
As the days went on - and the Big Days drew inexorably near, with me wavering between excitement and apprehension almost daily, and definitely nightly - we went through many cycles of hope and doubt. We trusted each other, we bumbled, we picked ourselves up, we picked each other up, we tried to stay on top of it, and in the end, when we got VERY close, we shrugged and said, "Well...we *think* we've thought of everything."
And there was no way to check on that - no way to rehearse. Oh, we got the speakers into the theater - did I mention the dozen or so external speakers, including not one but TWO keynotes? - for a brief A/V check and two minutes on stage to get a sense of it; we got the four bands for the battle of the bands set up and briefly sound checked, and we did a full run-thru of the Onion-style faux company "update" newscast (I got to write a few jokes for it, whoo hoo) a few times because of all the complicated video, sound and light cues, but no REAL rehearsal. You can't rehearse 200 vendors setting up in a couple of hours, or 2000 employees getting on and off 40 buses. The theater schedule - I ended up as the stage manager (well, in liaison with the professional tech guys we hired that did 90% of the work; I got that crucial 10%!) - was tight, literally minute by minute. This happened at 10:57, and this at 10:59, and this at 11:00. It was that tight.
One of the great things about this event, besides the obvious excitement and experience gained - was the size of it, and how that taught us all something. We all had to trust each each other, because no one person could do it all. We planned it together, and we had to execute it together - and we needed a ton of bodies (about 100 per day) to do it. And even though I had a hand in almost every aspect of planning - I was essentially the communication / coordination person which included being somewhat aware of what EVERYONE was doing so I could point out gaps and close loops - I was unable to do everything on the days of the event. You had to pick a place and get that part done. The other woman who did a huge amount of logistical planning (she who had experience) was almost everywhere at once, but the theater was a separate entity that needed its own attention.
We stayed in contact - all of the employee volunteers who worked the event - via walkie talkie; the key folks had the headphone thing, important in the theater as you need to be able to hear what the techies are saying without the audience hearing. We learned how to use them and we said "over" and we spoke with clarity and brevity, and made some jokes - nothing like when someone says something funny over the general event walkie-talkie channel. You don't hear laughter (because you know, no one presses the "talk" button just to laugh) but you know it was funny. It was fun - I got so used to the team in my ear, I missed it when it was over....it was lonely just hearing my thoughts. I'd gotten used to half-listening, chiming in when I had the answer, or doing two things at once.
In fact, that's one of the things I want to say ABOUT the event - which I *am* leading up to, sorry about all the prelude, but it's necessary to convey the ideas I'm exploring here - is that one of the many things I learned was how to trust others, and how rewarding it is. When people come together as a group to make something happen, it's pretty magical. It's kind of what humans love to do. It's the essence of fun: the only thing better than that moment of triumph when one can say "I did it" is when we can say "We did it." I knew this particular "we did it" would be great, or we all hoped it would be (remember, we didn't know - for months we planned our little hearts out but didn't know), and then when it over, it was even better than I expected.
For it was indeed a success. A pretty big success. People responded. They were happy the moment they walked in - it blew their minds a little bit. They walked by me and congratulated me, it was so clearly a wonderful event for everyone. We were all there, and we were all happy - happy together. (Well, OK, a few little snafus, and always a few people who have a bummer time for whatever reason, but in BIG general, the event was beloved). People wrote, followed up - from vendors to employees to executives - said how amazing, inspiring, energizing it was. People said they were high, floating from it - they wanted more.
Whew. We - all the "we's": the core team, the bigger team, the region - were relieved, delighted. Yay! It worked out. The risk was big, the reward was big. I'm not too much of a risk-taker, and this event stretched me not just professionally (some of it I literally did NOT know how to do at first) but also mentally, spiritually, personally. I had to trust in others, I had to let go, I had to step up, I had to have faith. I had to pay attention, and keep going, and support others, and get freaked out so that others could support me. Everyone else had to do it too.
And one of the things that most struck me is how competent all of my co-workers are. You hear about most office workers (my company is retail but me and those doing this were from "regional") complaining about their lame co-workers, people failing to pull their own weight, doing and saying the wrong thing. The incompetent boss is an American cliche. But not here, not my co-workers - they smack of competence. They are all uber capable.
We outlined the idea for everyone working the event, said "We THINK this is how it should happen and what you should do, but we don't know so be ready to do anything at any time." And they DID. They all jumped in, and they got it, and ran with it, and pulled it off. And speakers and vendors and employee guests were walking around saying, this has been so smooth. My co-workers were all rock stars, and at the end when we got the pleasure of "We did it," it was made even more sweet by the fact that it really was *everyone.*
And this lead me to thinking of what it all meant, on a higher level. Like traffic, what is teamwork here on earth for? Why have teams? Why have pleasure as a response to a group of people all banding together to accomplish a common goal? What design humans that way, or why grow ourselves that way? In a practical sense, I can see teamwork is a crucial component of so-called "civilization." You can't get pyramids built or symphonies played or planes assembled or many of the wonderful things in the world unless you can get a group of people to get together, think of it, figure it out and then do it.
But why get things done? What's so good about group accomplishment? WHY build the pyramids or St. Peter's? Why watch Cirque du Soleil or go to Disneyland? I mean, sure, those are fun. But really, I think what's behind it is - well, God. (Stay with this.) People get inspired by each other - by seeing others create and play at being full alive. They see a jazz trio or a Frank Lloyd Wright building and they say, wow! Look at what THOSE people did. What could *I* do? Could I do something like that? Am I capable of more than I think? I'm going to try.
I'm inspired - motivated to action. Inspiration: originally, it meant breath, the breath of god (from Latin inspirare, from spirare, 'to breathe'). Respiration, inspiration are related. And it never occurred to me before this Big Event, but teamwork is ultimately a glimpse into the divine. The divine is ultimately collective. In my non-Christian spirituality - not Buddhist, but that's close; think Alan Watts - we're all connected; no, not connected, because that implies we're fundamentally separate, individual entities that have come together. Rather, we are all of the same substance already, merely in varying forms. We mistake the forms and think they are separate entities, but that is the great illusion of life. We are one; there is no "we," really.
Normally, one doesn't see the divine in teamwork. Who can blame us? It's not very obvious, but I experienced it recently. As I said I learned so much in the process of planning and then successful executing this event, it blew my mind; so much of it was a delightful surprise, but none of it so much as this ability to feel myself as part of this giant group entity, all heading in the same direction, all, basically, loving the same thing, and bringing it into being in the world. For that is what companies do - they bring things into being, be they cars or gasoline or advertising. Some of them are primarily destructive, which is a big issue, but my company is pretty creative, in the literal sense - we sell food that has been grown or raised: born, in some case, and alive, in all. There's birth and creation in my business.
And this event was about that - be creative, we told our employees; if you have an idea, make it happen That's what makes our company good and our jobs, our days, fun. Here's some education, entertainment (I won't go into the story of the wild, urban, hip, sexy locally known marching band - a big surprise to start the thing off with a bang, but they required management, some of which was up to me, and even so they got a little out of hand for some of the more conservative element), some ideas from outsiders and each other. Here's some time to focus on and discuss what matters, and also eat some good food. Now, go forth and make meaning with your teams.
As usual, I'm sure most of the people who experienced this event would not have gotten the same thing from it as I did, but I think we all felt some version of it. It took a few months from my life, and, in the end (even though I was getting paid for it, it was also a labor of love), it was worth it. I had a great time backstage, with its dramatic moments and green rooms antics and...oh, just that fun hush and expectation and excitement that the stage can provide. I got to watch the thing getting built and getting broken down - there's a peculiar satisfaction is riding a big event from beginning to end, seeing the whole thing. I thrived in the bustle.
I got sexy, sweaty hugs from the semi-scantily clad band - yes, at one point I had to make the call as to whether or not one of them could go on the vendor show floor in his costume or if he needed to put on pants. I thanked him for making it part of my work duties that day to make a call as to whether or not someone in my temporary employ could remain pantsless (I suggested he put on pants). I got about a zillion hugs from the many co-workers I know but don't often see - it was a like a giant family reunion. (After a decade in one place, people get to know you, what can I say?) I got to get out onstage a couple times (pinch-hitting for the absent), which of course I secretly desired. I ran around with a feeling of importance, urgency, competence, and then, eventually, the knowledge that we had done it. We had pulled it off. We did it.
That's basically what I wanted to say. If you ever get depressed and lose your faith in the human race, I suggest finding a group of like-minded, competent people, setting a lofty but attainable positive and life-affirming goal, and then throwing yourselves into it with a passion. I have no idea if it usually comes out so well, but it did this time, and it was glorious. It was, for me, a teeny tiny glimpse, through the dark glass of this reality, of, as Alan Watts might say, what the angels sitting around the throne of God do, when they sing the universe into existence, all together now.
I've encountered that type of project as well, only my experience of it is that there are always certain people who have to complain the whole way along. Why are *we* being asked to do this instead of some other group that's not us? Why do *we* have to take care of this complicated detail instead of one of our partner groups? Why does this event have to occur at all, it'll never accomplish its goal, the whole thing is pointless!
ReplyDeleteThe people definitely matter. Some people will complain and kvetch the entire time, while other people see angels singing around the throne of God.
The world's lucky you're in it. Thanks for the post.