You've GOT to be Kidding!

Mark Twain said, "Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't." Fiction pales in light of the Patreaus fiasco. I am simply astounded at Patraeus' grievously poor judgment and lack of virtue.  The relationships and timing of all these events vis-a-vis the yet-to-be-revealed real truth about the Benghazi tragedy call so much into question - about our national security, decisions made about/in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, etc.  If you ever doubted how fast trust can be lost, doubt no more.  We have a legacy of distrust.

It seems like our government is out of control, out of touch...living on a different planet with a different set of mores and morals.  Are these the groaning sounds of a system at the precipice?  I keep hearing the creaking of metal in the process of failure before it crashes...failure and fatigue.  Can you name a significant government agency or department that has not been embroiled in a scandal in the past few years? And many of theses are ones entrusted with the safeguarding of our country.

Two of my sages, John Hagel and Steve Denning, have been warning us for years about the frailty and impending implosion of our institutions and institutional practices.  We have not heeded their warnings and on November 6th, we yet again preserved the status quo.  Why? Because...

• Those are the types that run for nomination of their parties?  Why?
• Those that are willing to tell the truth and call it like it is don't make it far enough to get nominated?  Why?
• We citizens really don't want to hear bad news and see reality? We want our officials to make "it all better"?  Why?
• We don't really want to sacrifice what's needed to buttress up the foundations of this country? Why?
• The rewards of doing so are too far in the future? We no longer have a common vision of what America stands for to instill common sacrifice? Why?

I don't know the answer, only some of the questions to ask. But I do know this, Churchill was right when he said, “It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried.”  America highlights the paradox of democracy and freedom.  And yet, despite all of America's issues, people still flock to our shores for survival, people still want to start their businesses here and we are still the beacon for freedom.  Yes, I can handle the paradox of being both horrified at the betrayal of trust and corruption of our government and proud to be an American and be free.

So, this Thanksgiving, while some of us sit at tables bursting with abundance, some in dark homes filled with sand, water and ruin, some in shelters, some by hospital beds, some in barracks in Afghanistan, give thanks for the gifts of trusting relationships and freedom.  Give thanks....and give those whose lives, well being, livelihoods are entrusted to you the same gifts...of trust, integrity, and freedom...from your spouse to the janitor in the plant.  Give thanks.

What do you do when Life Redraws Your Map?

I grew up in Rumson, NJ by the ocean (I used to say “the jersey shore” but can’t anymore) spending mySea Bright, NJ post Hurricane Sandy summers on the beach in Sea Bright and sailing in the briny rivers and ocean.  There were “traditions” around certain weather occurrences, like the annual Nor’easter that helped get the boat out of the water, the annual winter beach erosion and summer rebuilding and the very very rare snow on the beach.  On Monday, October 29, 2012, Hurricane Sandy re-designed that coastline. 

In 1938, a Category 5 hurricane, “The Great New England Hurricane”, literally reshaped the coastline of Rhode Island…so much so that the US Army Corp of Engineers had to redraw the national maps of New England. It killed about 700 people, cost about $39.2B in 2005 USD, and like Hurricane Sandy, hit during an Astrological (Autumnal Equinox) Full Moon with a 16’ storm surge into Narragansett Bay.  I’ve heard first-hand accounts of that storm from friends up in Maine and the fear and loss are still palpable.

Mantoloking Bridge - Hurricane SandyWhile I loved hanging out with my friends on the beach in Sea Bright, NJ all summer long as a kid, I never understood the grand mansions and condos that were build (and rebuilt) on Sea Bright’s very narrow slit of land which the ocean washed over, breaking sea walls, destroying property almost every year, turning parts of Rumson into ocean property.  Each time, government money was spent to bring in sand and rebuild Sea Bright, trying to preserve a way of life.  And each time, the ocean made it clear it was in charge.  This was, and still is, a predictable cycle.

In Maine, we are guided by the tides - we are not free to do what we want when we want.  Early on in their lives, my kids learned to check the tide clock before planning the day.  And growing up sailing on the ocean, the fog could come out of nowhere and it wasn’t hard to loose your bearings, even in waters that were second nature. 

Our society is preoccupied with control – controlling our circumstances, our employees, our children, our businesses, our spouses…you name it.  It does take a 2x4 over our heads to remind us we are not in control of much, only of how we react to our lack of control. While it’s always been this way, it seems more so now.  I always preferred hurricanes to tornados – you could prepare for a hurricane, you knew it was coming.  A tornado comes out of nowhere.  But, all our preparations don’t guarantee safety, security and normalcy, before or after.

We all have experiences in our lives that redraw our maps. So what will you do when life redraws your map? Grieve if needed, rescue what you should perhaps, and go on.  These events use our vulnerability to build resilience.  While we can’t protect ourselves and those we love and are responsible for, when the maps get redrawn, we can be there for each other, we can give each other strength to become more resilient and we can help each other rebuild, rebuild on new soil and with new opportunities instead of the ones that will just wash away again. 

Thank you to my friend Denise Fletcher, for prompting me to write this post.