Mission statement

I signed up for a three-day RESA workshop to get the PLU's. I wasn't that keen on the topic of the seminar, but for better or worse, I've completed the first day. I''m sure everyone has heard of Covey's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People? That's what it's about. Generally, I don't like gimmicks or self-improvement programs with steps. Today, the leader was talking about some principles that make sense, such as everyone's individual paradigm for viewing life, but I take issue with other ideas, for instance, that we all can choose how we respond to external events, and if we choose positively, the pain will disappear. Is Covey saying that someone who has lost her life savings through the Enron sleazebags has a choice about how to respond to the event? And could choose to see it in any way other than emotional devastation? Or does one have a choice about the response to a job loss, loss of a loved one, a bad medical diagnosis? In fact, should one really choose to accept any of these events graciously, or use the energy from the anger or sorrow to better the situation, somehow? Most of the time today, I was thinking to myself, "I think I already get it, and I think I'm fairly happy with the choices I've made up to this point, so I don't feel the need to re-direct my life according to these principles." I'll try to keep an open mind. The homework for tonight was to create a personal mission statement. What is my mission and purpose in life? Twenty-five years ago, I would have said, "My mission is to have a happy marriage, to have a Ph.D. and a career in education, and a koi fish pond in the back yard, etc.etc." I knew what I wanted then, and I strove to fulfill that mission. As for life's purpose, twenty-five years ago, I would have stated that my purpose was to learn as much as possible in life through reading, traveling, and relationships with others, and to teach others what I've learned through writing, modeling, teaching, and conveying opinions and information to people I value. It is the same purpose today. One of the many reasons I fell in love with Liberto is because I was continually learning something new from him, directly and indirectly. Honestly, right now, my mission and purpose are no different than they were twenty-five years ago, except I'll add some amendments: I would like to go to Europe, I'd like to retire, I'd like to spend my days writing and puttering, I'd like Diana and Sharon and Doug to move to this area, I'd like to launch a creative idea I've had for a long time, but need technical help. Obviously, I can't turn in a mission statement like that. It's supposed to be more spiritual and character-based. But I mostly took care of that ages ago.

An interesting story emerged at the workshop that was tangentially related to the subject matter, but which sent chills through everyone in the room. We had to partner up and talk for some of the activities, and two ex-military men, both around fifty-something I'd say, discovered that they'd both had the same close call in 1988: they'd both been booked on Pan Am Flight 103 out of Frankfort, but had changed their plans at the last minute. One of them was bringing his entire family, including the cat, back to the states. When he got to the ticket counter and found out that the family cat would have to go into quarrantine for two months in London if they stopped there, he said, "I'm not letting my cat sit in quarantine" and changed to a different flight. He said today,"My family and I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for that cat." The other man said he was booked on the flight because he had a two-week leave, but his wife convinced him that two weeks would be too short a time to go up to London, and they should do it later. The second man said since that event, he has spent all his life trying to determine his purpose and mission because of that near miss.

We had a wonderful time at Terry's and Mark's on Saturday night. We ate at a Thai Restaurant in Statesboro. My heart skipped a few beats when Liberto and I drove by Snooky's, my favorite hang-out with Sharon back in the day. I can just taste those mashed potatoes now and hear Sharon's witty remarks from across the table. Seeing the diner brought back fond memories. It looks like it's been remodeled. So does Statesboro, for that matter. It's not the little town it used to be. New buildings and businesses have sprung up everywhere.

We stayed overnight and enjoyed a nice long hike with the dogs in the morning, or least Terry and I did. Liberto's back was bothering him, and Mark has some knee issues. Terry has a cat that she wants to find a home for. I admit that I fell in love with the Zisco when I met her. She's a calico, no more than a year old, very playful and quirky. She has one slightly crooked ear, which gives her character. I was tempted to think about asking whether we could adopt her. But I don't think I could bear to lose another cat. I was so saddened to hear about Sharon's cat's passing.

Pete has been doing well lately. He's not exactly as energetic as a puppy, but he has good days where he seems like his old self.