Stanford Prison Experiment : Official Trailer
Modern Love. It's worth it.
Don’t make fun of me - and I’m not sure why I feel embarrassed to admit, but I truly am enjoying this series. I’m on episode five. The first two were brilliant, the third took some time to get into, and the fourth didn’t quite hit the mark (for me at least), but the fifth was once again unique and beautiful.
Good acting, great stories, perfectly imperfect humanity. What else could you ask for?
Each episode is its own short story of love. They’re aren’t perfectly packaged and don’t answer all of our questions, but they answer enough. Largely, is love worth it? Is it complicated? And will I find it?
Yes. But not, necessarily, like we always think or hope.
For 15 years, Modern Love has brought personal essays about love, loss and redemption to readers of The New York Times. Four years ago, it became a podcast. And now the column has inspired an eight-episode series on Amazon Prime Video (via).
You can read the original essays that the episodes are based on here. There are even followup interviews with the writers who’s lives inspired the stories, which is pretty great because the stories, although beautiful and hard and sad and filled with more hope than 30ish minutes should be allowed to hold, there are still many questions unanswered. The four interviews helps. A little.
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Tribalism: America's Greatest Weapon. America's Greatest Danger
The reason it’s so difficult to have a considered conversation about {religion, race, politics, gender, you name it} is that people feel threatened. Not by the implied criticism of the rituals or irrationality of a particular , but because it feels like criticism of their faith” (pg. 82).
Below are two videos about the Evergreen State controversy, surrounded by Seth Godin quotes from his book Tribes: We Need You to Lead.
“Tribes,” Seth Godin writes, “are about faith - about belief in an idea and in a community. And they are grounded in respect and admiration for the leader of the tribe and for the other members as well” (pg. 9).
“In a battle between sides,” he continues, “the best one doesn’t necessarily win. No, the idea that wins is the one with the most fearless heretic behind it” (pg. 43).
“A fundamentalist is a person who considers whether a fact is acceptable to his religion before he explores it. As apposed to a curious person who explores first and then considers whether or not he wants to accept the ramifications” (pg 63).
“A curious person,” he writes, “embraces the tension between his religion ( politics , beliefs, whatever) and something new, wrestles with it and through it, and then decides whether to embrace the new idea or reject . . . It has to do with a desire to understand, a desire to try, a desire to push whatever envelope is interesting” (pg 63).
“Religion at its worst” and I think it’s best to use that term generically, including all things outside religion, “reinforces the status quo, often at the expense of our faith” (pg. 81). Or, at the expense or our integrity, morality, and humanity.
The secret “is to listen, to value what you hear, and then to make a decision eve if it contradicts the very people you are listening to . . . People want to be sure you heard what they said - they’re less focused no whether or not you do what they said'“ (pg. 129.
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MFPE Conference 2019: A few takeaways
There’s a scene from my favorite movie, Liberal Arts, where the main character is trying to encourage a young genius but potential dropout why college is so important. “It’s one of the few places where you can read and write poetry, and no one will punch you in the face” (or something like that). I never really understood those that line, but what I think it means is that college is a place where one can experiment, try out new ideas and ways of living, say and do somewhat radical things, yet still be safe. Because their in college, and that’s where one is supposed to try and do new and somewhat radical things.
The same could also be, should also be, said about teacher conferences. At least, that’s my goal anyway, which is one of the main reasons I love presenting at them. And this latest conference, in Belgrade MT, was one of those moments.
I hosted a two-part presentation entitled, Social Media: The Library of our Time which was a fleshing out of a post I’d written about a year ago, Entertained to Death. The second part of the presentation was a hands-on workshop where we watched the following music video/short film:
For almost an hour, a room full of educators (English, history, math, music, art teachers and a few college students), we disected the hell out of this video, and it was truly awesome. Truly. And was a manifestation of all I had written about in Entertained to Death.
One of my takeaways, however, is this:
Student involvement: Because there isn’t much written about the videos/art, we the audience - the students - are responsible for the interpretations. We cannot rely upon another more “trusted” opinion on the matter. Our interpretation is the interpretation. We just need to defend it.
In the discussion, we had a great time coming up with possible interpretations and meanings, all of which were purposeful and deep - super deep, and a strong affirmation that this needs to make its way into our classrooms and cultures.
Goal: Get this into a short, more condensed written version for possible publication. Also, submit more workshops for next years MFPE Conference:
Autonomy with Standards
Social Media as Content: A Library of our Time (2 parts)
Prove You’re Alive (a sort of injection to inspire and encourage teachers)
Stories Matter: How stories can make us better people
PDP Notes: A possible note taking strategy
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Friday Thought : Leave it at the door. be Awesome.
My friend, Ron Hardy
I was in my third year of teaching, I think (maybe fourth) when much of my life was far from where I'd hoped it would be and I was beginning to struggle with confidence, joy, and purpose. Unsurprisingly, it began to impact my teaching, my classroom, and my students. Only, I didn’t notice.
Then, I somewhere around Christmas, I received an anonymous email from a student that was written from an anonymous email account informing me that I was not doing a great job, that my teaching was sub-par, and that he (I think it was a he, at least) and his classmates deserved better. Luckily, I received that email on a Friday so I could spend the weekend sulking, arguing, excusing, then finally accepting that he was right. I needed to do better. Because he and they and my colleagues and my family deserved better. And because I was better.
The following week I started writing, "Leave it at the door. be Awesome." on the bottom of every lesson plan. A few weeks in, I made it the footer to my lesson plan template which I have used ever since, reminding me each and every day I sat down to create a lesson to leave whatever struggles, issues, and frustrations I might have at the door and be Awesome.
I wasn't perfect after that, nor did I always leave everything at the door. In fact, every now and then I would gather it all in my arms, squeeze it through the door, then drop it right in the middle of the floor for all my students to see. Like the day I spent sharing memories of my childhood best friend because the night before I had discovered it was the anniversary of passing. He had been gone for almost six years, and I never even knew. We had lost touch over the years, and when I discovered he had passed away six years prior, I felt terrible, guilty, and at a loss.
I didn’t sleep much that night.
So I wrestled through it with my students, I shared some of my favorite memories, talked about how the night before I could only see so much of Ronnie in my son that I ended up holding him for almost an hour while I talked about my childhood friend, and I talked with them about loss and life and the struggle in between. Then I had them share memories of their friends and families and write brief notes to those they mentioned. It wasn't all that academic of a class, but kids referenced it for years as one of their favorite classes and, ever since, I have committed to sharing his story with whomever I can during the month of October, the month he so abruptly left this world.
Sometimes life and circumstances seem more than we can bare. Or, as Bilbo Baggins said, it can make us feeling exhausted and "thin . . . stretched, like butter, spread over too much bread."
In those moments, for me at least, it is healthy to remind myself that I am needed - by my students, my colleagues, my family, and my community. That I am bigger than my circumstances, better than what some might think or say about me, and that I am able to help and serve and do great things, even when I don't feel like it.
People need us. They need us to be great, to be better than we often feel and sometimes think. They need us to be their mothers, fathers, friends, counselors, encouragers, planners, champions, and safe places. They a need us to be Awesome. Which means, sometimes, that they need us to be vulnerable and open and raw. They need us to be human. Which is great! Because that is exactly what humans are. Awesome.
And because we are, we can also be.
Leave it at the door. be Awesome.
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The Peacock Wicker Chair : How it Became A Global Icon
I bet you never look at these chairs or those album covers or any concert where it might be featured the same way again.
I know I won’t.
But also, I just when artists have this sort of dialogue with other artists/historical figures. Not only does it show homage and respect to those people, it heightens their message, their purpose. If only I were smart or cultured enough to catch it on my own.
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An Island of Peace and Quiet
“You have to be at peace with the fact that something might happen, and you might not make it through,” says Alexandra de Steiguer, the caretaker for the Oceanic Hotel, in Brian Bolster’s short documentary, "Winter’s Watch." De Steiguer has spent the past 19 winters tending to the 43-acre grounds of the hotel, on Star Island, which sits 10 miles off the coast of New England. In the long, wintry off-season, she is the island’s sole inhabitant. (via)
Reminds me of The Light Between Oceans, the book not the movie (that was terrible) and really makes me want to visit the hotel during the winter months.
Can you imagine what you could do and think up with all that time?
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Some Current Favorites
Here are a few of my current favorites. Some are obvious, others not so much, just as some are full of depth and purpose and others are not. Either way, they all fit nicely into any road trip playlist.
Just ask my kids.
Just like Take Me to Church, Hozier delivers yet again with a deep and poetic song that rewards those who take the time and effort to look beyond its clever sound.
True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree
Willow dancing on air before covering me
Under garden and calicos
Over canopies that was long ago
True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me
That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree
Must be felt 'fore the fight that calls
Threatened fire but that was long ago
And it's not tonight (Ooh)
When I'm set alight (Ooh)
I'm blinking so (Ooh)
Your blinding light (Ooh)
Oh, let's not tonight (Ooh)
When you hold me tight (Ooh)
Light the fire bright (Ooh)
Let it blaze alright (Ooh)
Oh, hope that you're good to me
Oh you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, baby
With the roar of the fire my heart goes to its feet
Like the ashes of ash I saw eyes in the heat
Sitting soft in this purest snow
Fell in love with the fire long ago
Each love I could lose
I was never the same
Watch it's still living roots be consumed by the flames
I was fixed on your hand of gold
Laying waste to my loving long ago
And it's not tonight (Ooh)
When I'm set alight (Ooh)
I'm blinking so (Ooh)
Your blinding light (Ooh)
Oh, let's not tonight (Ooh)
When you hold me tight (Ooh)
Light the fire bright (Ooh)
Let it blaze alright (Ooh)
Oh, hope that you're good to me
Oh you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, baby
So you know there I stood
As you licked off the grain
Though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame
Long as ember, November glows
All the wood that I'd loved is long ago
And it's not tonight (Ooh)
When I'm set alight (Ooh)
I'm blinking so (Ooh)
Your blinding light (Ooh)
Oh, let's not tonight (Ooh)
When you hold me tight (Ooh)
Light the fire bright (Ooh)
Let it blaze alright (Ooh)
Oh you're good to me
Hope you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, Oh
Oh Hope you're good to me
Hope you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, baby
Source: LyricFind
Like his relationship with the young lady, this song is shallow and all about the external. It sounds great through the speakers, especially when turned up high, but that’s it.
Bob your head, tap your feet, ignore the lyrics, and enjoy!
If you’ve watched GOT, that might be all you see at first. Which is perhaps what makes this song (and a few others) most impressive. That he is able to rise above his iconic character Grey Worm and produce a truly enjoyable song.
Those are my current favorites! If you have any suggestions, don’t be afraid to leave a comment and share it with us all!
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Friday Thought : "I am . . ."
This past week I unexpectedly found a wad of money in by back pocket. I had put it there months ago while attending the National Principal’s Conference in Boston because I didn’t quite know how I wanted to spend it then but knew for sure I didn’t want to lose it. So I stashed it. Then, as I often do, I completely forgot about it.
A few days ago, Mr. Thompson (my boss) helped me find it. He also helped me figure out how to spend it.
“Do you know what the two most powerful words in the English language are?” Mr. Thompson asked. I was standing outside the school, greeting kids and fighting off the cold, “Love you?” I said, wondering where this was going.
“I am,” he said, “because what comes after ‘I am’ will shape your life.”
We then spent the next twenty minutes or so, high-fiving students and discussing the importance of “I am” and other things I don’t really remember because, to be honest, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking. Unbeknownst to Mr. Thompson, while we were chatting and laughing and greeting the kiddos as they shuffled their way into school, he had metaphorically thrust his hand into my back pocket and pull out the wad of money that had been sitting there since Boston.
And now, unlike then, I couldn’t wait to spend it!
Brian McCann (@casehighprinc) is a principal in Massachussets and it was in his session at the National Principal’s Conference where I first heard of #PositiveSignThursday, a day where he would print out a positive message, take pictures with students throughout the day, then post them on social media. I thought it was a cool idea, but still I stuffed it in my back pocket because I didn’t quite know how I wanted to use it.
Now, inspired by the power of “I am . . .”, I do.
Conflict reveals truth. Or, as Priya Parker states, “conflict unearths purpose.” So when difficulties arise, when true conflict or strife occur in our lives, how one has been completing the “I am . . “ sentence will suddenly have flesh and blood. Suddenly the perception of themselves and why they are here is revealed.
“What comes after ‘I am’ will shape your life” the speaker says, “What you speak after ‘I am’, what you believe after ‘I am’ will control your decisions and shape your life.”
And for many of our kiddos, what they see in the mirror is not what they are. #PositiveSignThursday is one way I can help. For many it may be the first time they see and say, “I am strong”, “I am fearless”, “I am a champion.” It might the first time they say, “I am wanted”, “I am needed”, and “I am someone who can make a difference.” For others, “I am a fighter” or “I am more than my body” might be the reminder they need for that day, that week, that year, or their life.
Either way - and even if some think it cheesy - I’m in. All in. Because they’re worth it.
And so am I.
Wasted Space, A short Film
Great films have a habit of forcing me to scratch my head. And this one left a pile of dead skin on my shoulders. (gross. I know.)
Gene Roddenberry claimed at that “all art was an attempt to answer the question, ‘What is it all about?’” and I have taken that claim and held it up to almost every piece of worthy art I have come across.
For this one, I’m struggling to find an answer.
Here’s one take:
Negative Space is practically perfect. Like so many shorts I admire, the film incorporates multitudes of seemingly contradictory qualities: at a mere 5 minutes, there is really no wasted space, and yet it is exceedingly spare. Based off a celebrated Ron Koertge poem that clocks in at only 150 words, it allows for moments of subtlety and contemplation that are so necessary in visual storytelling—those perfectly blocked shots, held for an extra moment, that drive home the rich emotional interiority of its characters. It’s simultaneously one of the most humanistic films of recent memory, but it also stars no humans. Its stop-motion animation is expressive, detailed and grounded, and yet it has no compunction about taking off on flights of fancy, segueing via delightful transitions into fantastical asides that play with scale and setting.
And, most remarkably, none of these elements are simply stylistic choices, excuses for technical bravado, or kludgy compromises to the process of adaptation. They are all deep reflections of the film’s core themes, representing and enriching them. Adapting work from another medium is rare for shorts, but rarer still, in any medium, is an adaptation that exceeds the original. Negative Space fills in the subtext of Koertge’s poem, but doesn’t bludgeon it, and the insights and personal experiences the film’s creators bring to the source material prove additive rather than incongruent, elevating the work." - S/W Curator, Jason Sondhi (via).
But that doesn’t help. What themes are reflected? Enriched?
I agree that the artistic nature of the film is spot-on and “nearly perfect.” But what about the message? What is he trying to say?
And what poem does it help fill in? . . . oh. I found it. It’s called, Negative Space (huh) and is the narration to the film:
My dad taught me to pack: lay out everything. Put back half. Roll things
that roll. Wrinkle-prone things on top of cotton things. Then pants, waist-
to-hem. Nooks and crannies for socks. Belts around the sides like snakes.
Plastic over that. Add shoes. Wear heavy stuff on the plane.
We started when I was little. I’d roll up socks. Then he’d pretend to put me
in the suitcase, and we’d laugh. Some guys bond with their dads shooting
hoops or talking about Chevrolets. We did it over luggage.
By the time I was twelve, if he was busy, I’d pack for him. Mom tried
but didn’t have the knack. He’d get somewhere, open his suitcase and text
me—”Perfect.” That one word from him meant a lot.
The funeral was terrible—him laid out in that big carton and me crying
and thinking, Look at all that wasted space.
So what is the wasted space? Was it time spent apart? Wasted opportunities? Is his dad nothing more than a packed item now and no longer human . . . because he never was? Because he was only just a figure or title?
Now we’re getting somewhere.
Is he crying at his father’s funeral because he’s acknowledging that he should be thinking about something else? That he should be mourning the loss of his father and not the wasted space? That he should have a coffin full of memories to think about and talk about, rather than a phone full of simple texts that read “perfect” but which meant so much to a lonely son back home?
Should they have meant so much to a lonely son back home?
Maybe. Probably.
What do you think?
Man I love stop-motion films.
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-N- Stuff : My Dead Dad’s Porno Tapes : My Grandfather, and the tools he left behind : Short Films
The destructive force of tornadoes
Tornadoes are some of the most destructive forces of nature.
They’re also, somehow, gorgeous. And truly awesome.
If you dig storms and tornadoes, check these out too.
For more on . . .
-N- Stuff : A Peace with the Storm : Storm Chasers in the Wild
Friday thought : Love what they love
I follow @calvinhobs1990 on Instagram, and the other day they posted the above strip and I swear I about broke down in tears. Good. Gracious. What a powerful reminder, as a father, husband, friend, teacher, principal, person - whatever.
Sometimes, often times, I get stuck in my world. I notice what I notice, place emphasis on what I think important, and ignore (or push aside) the things I think less important. Forgetting that, for others, what I think has little or no value is EVERYTHING to them. And when I neglect or wave off that thing, it isn't that thing I am waving off, it is them.
Sometimes, often times, what allows us to break through barriers and gain trust or love or respect from another is not based so much on how we act or what we say, but how we treat the things that matter to others. Everyone, I think, feels love and respected when someone loves and respects the things are hearts are wrapped around. Be it dreams, experiences, ideas, identities, or even things.
I know I'm guilty of this. Of losing relationships, potential relationships, and of damaging current ones because I don't treasure or respect their prized possession.
My grandmother said it plain. "Love what they love, and they'll never fear you. They’ll trust you." Or, as Robert Duvall said in the classic 90's movie Phenomenon, "He bought her chairs. Have you ever bought Lisa's chairs?"
As we wrap up September and head into October, consider how you can invest in someone by loving what they love. A student, a colleague, a friend, whomever. How can you "buy their chair" and gain their trust, their friendship, their respect?
How can you build a relationship by caring for something as small and "worthless" as a stuffed tiger?
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Friday Thought : A Boy and His Dog
I listened to a great podcast recently, about a Boy and His Dog.
The boy, who had fallen on hard times, was selling his dog - his best friend - for a hundred dollars simply because he needed to eat. Being a writer wasn't paying any bills. Little Jimmy didn't really care, though. He wanted the nice dog, but for a better bargain. So Little Jimmy took advantage of the man and his plight and instead offered $25. The skinny kid sighed, knowing he needed to feed his wife and couldn't afford to feed his dog, and finally accepting $40.
Two weeks later, when a screen writer offered to buy that same dog for $200, Little Jimmy once again took advantage of the situation and refused to sell the dog for anything less than $15,000 AND a speaking role in the man's new and upcoming movie! The man had written the screenplay in four days and sold it for $35,000 dollars, only a few days prior.
The dog was Butkus. The skinny kid, Sylvester Stallone (pictured above). And the movie was Rocky.
Whenever I come to work, I am constantly encouraged and inspired by those of you who have chosen to live a Sylvester Stallone sort of life. You work hard, endure hardships, then rather than sitting in the mess of life, you find solutions. Thank you for being that for me, for your fellow colleagues, and most importantly, for the students who have the privilege of being in your presence.
I promise you, they notice.
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This man draws like a printer
Old people doing parkour!
This is the most adorable yet hysterical thing I’ve seen in a long time.
And really, when I’m this old, I hope I am also this bold. These people are already braver than me.
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Friday thought: remembering 911
This photo was taken of Port Authority Police Officer Christopher Amoroso shortly before he went back into #2 World Trade Center and was killed in the collapse. (Photo by Todd Maisel/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images)
I saw this photo earlier this week and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. Obviously, the gravity of the situation and the memories of this tragic day has been on all of our hearts and minds. But what struck me most about this photo, however, was the specificity of this man's actions, of this man's story. I don't know about you, but I've never had to make such a decision, to put my life on the line or risk serious injury for another. But that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it and wondered how I would respond in such a moment. Would I rescue those nearby? Or protect myself first? Not only did Officer Christopher Amoroso save the woman who needed his help, which clearly was a dangerous situation (his bruised eye), he returned to the scene and tried to save another.
This type of decision, this type of action, does not happen in a single moment. He didn't wake up that morning and decide, "I'm going to die a hero today." Instead, he probably woke with the same mindset he had the day before and the day before, and before, and before. Instead, he went about his day, acting similar to the many days before, routinely serving, thinking of others, and doing the right thing. How do I know that? Because conflict reveals our deepest truest selves. Because fear reveals what we care most about - ourselves? Or others? And when Officer Christopher Amoroso was confronted with one of the greatest conflicts our American soil has ever experienced, he chose to serve and protect others. He chose to be brave.
"Bravery," I tell my kiddos, "is not acting without fear. It's acting in spite of it, while you're surrounded with it, while you're immersed in it." I can only imagine how terrified Office Christopher Amoroso must have been. Yet, he still ran back to the burning towers, in hopes of saving another. Because he made that decision many days prior as he built himself into a routine of sacrifice, service, and bravery.
Doing the right thing - doing the hard thing - is a daily choice that becomes a habit, a reaction, and a lifestyle that allows us to do - when the time comes - the seemingly impossible. This is why small things matter, why character and integrity matter, and why holding that string that connects us all is so important. Because when we begin to falter, when our weaknesses begin to rear their ugly faces, we can look around and see our brothers and sisters holding us up inspiring us to stay strong, to do what is right and - if needs be - head back into burning buildings.
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This 12-Year-Old painter has a serious voice
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NINE things a woman couldn’t do in 1971, or later!
“The following list is of NINE things a woman couldn’t do in 1971” Robyn, aka sunsong23 writes “a woman could not:
Get a Credit Card in her own name – it wasn’t until 1974 that a law forced credit card companies to issue cards to women without their husband’s signature (via).
Be guaranteed that they wouldn’t be unceremoniously fired for the offense of getting pregnant – that changed with the Pregnancy Discrimination Act of *1978*. Despite the act, pregnancy discrimination is still a major issue in woman’s sports (via).
Fight on the front lines – admitted into military academies in 1976 it wasn’t until 2013 that the military ban on women in combat was lifted (via).
Serve on a jury - It varied by state (Utah deemed women fit for jury duty way back in 1879), but the main reason women were kept out of jury pools was that they were considered the center of the home, which was their primary responsibility as caregivers. They were also thought to be too fragile to hear the grisly details of crimes and too sympathetic by nature to be able to remain objective about those accused of offenses. In 1961, the Supreme Court unanimously upheld a Florida law that exempted women from serving on juries. It wasn't until 1973 that women could serve on juries in all 50 states (via).
Get an Ivy League education - Yale and Princeton didn't accept female students until 1969. Harvard didn't admit women until 1977 (when it merged with the all-female Radcliffe College). Brown (which merged with women's college Pembroke), Dartmouth and Columbia did not offer admission to women until 1971, 1972 and 1981, respectively (via).
Take legal action against workplace sexual harassment. Indeed the first time a court recognized office sexual harassment as grounds for any legal action was in 1977 (via).
Decide not to have sex if their husband wanted to – spousal rape wasn’t criminalized in all 50 states until 1993 (via).
Until a 1972 Supreme Court case, unmarried women in some states were prohibited from purchasing birth control pills (via).
Sheesh.
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9/6/19 : Friday's Thoughtful Thought
I don't know if you experience themes in you daily life, I know I do. Often actually. Almost weekly, an idea or truth or topic will somehow align itself perfectly and continually show up randomly throughout my days. Sometimes the themes are large and heavy, like the concepts of justice and humanity. Other times its something simple, like the importance of Hamlet being performed in prison. Other times it is something dark, like the role hate plays in our lives and surrounding society. My favorite "week of themes", though, was the one when Russia continually invaded my space and I was then fortunate enough to learn how three Russian men, at different times, prevented all out war against the US, saving thousands of lives.
This week was another one of those weeks, with the theme being, "You are the sum of the five people you hang out with most." It started with an email from my boss, Mr. Thompson, and ended with an early morning conversation with a fellow colleague, Mr. Truax, when he shared how most all of his teaching accolades can be traced back to his early years and the mentors he surrounded himself with. Between the two bookends, this theme continually crept into my thoughts through podcasts (Your Weird, by The Minimalists), my current morning reading (The Art of Gathering: How we Meet and Why it Matters, by Priya Parker), conversations with my son about whom he chooses to hang out with, conversations with some of staff about whom they decide to hang out with, and a conversation with my big sister about whom we decide to "let into her arena" (a phrase from Brene Brown and her brilliant Netflix special, A Call to Courage).
I appreciate the concept that we are the sum of the five people we hang out with most, largely because it’s true! Think of students and how the groups they cluster with are greater than the any of the present individuals, how it encourages kids to act and think in ways they may never do on their own (negative and positive). Think about the people we go to when we're tired or scared or hurt and how the advice they give, and the direction they point us toward greatly impacts the kind of people we are and will become. We are, most often, the sum of the five people we hang out with most.
But it isn't just the people that impact us. It's also the stories we surround ourselves with. News stories, the novels and non-fiction we choose to read, the movies and TV programs we binge or watch on a nightly basis, the podcasts we listen to, and the music that entertains us. These also play a crucial role in the summing up of who we are, how we interpret life and the world around, and how we choose to interact with that life and the world around.
This notion, this truth, that we are the sum of what we CHOOSE to surround ourselves with is deeply comforting to me because it means that although we are greatly susceptible to our surroundings, we are also in complete control. WE CAN CHOSE WHO WE LISTEN TO AND THE STORIES WE SURROUND OURSELVES WITH!!!
Who or what kind of stories are you surrounded by? Do they encourage you to sit in the stink and muck of the situation? Or do they sniff once and then move on and toward a solution? Do they feed frustration or hope? Are they healthy? Or are they toxic?
Because we are not water, simply following the path of least resistance, completely characterized by our immediate surroundings. We are human - we’re alive! - and therefore have a choice on how to respond, how to think, and how to ensure we are healthy by purposefully surrounding ourselves with people and ideas and stories that, as Kim Chambers says, "normalize greatness."
Who are your five that make up the sum of who you are? And perhaps more importantly, what are they - and you - making?
The answer to these questions has been on my heart and mind a lot this week.
May we all work and play and live like Calvin. And then inspires others to do the same.
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