I was never
an academic all-star;
I most likely
was a classic undiagnosed ADHD
Kid who was often classified as a
“SMART KID WHO CAN’T SEEM TO STAY FOCUSED”
during parent/teacher conference
who excelled with
anything to do with
Reading
and nothing to do with
Math. . .
Who
was often writing poetry
and putting together lyrical phrases
that I wrote in the margins of books
or large lined notebooks
that made me look like
I was ferociously
taking notes. . .
I was often motivated to do well in school
so I could play sports
and not to embarrass my
school teaching, coaching dad
and school secretary mom
. . .but it always felt
foreign
distant
and far from a home
my heart beat to reside
UNLESS
I had
THOSE
teachers
who didn’t
look to grade
penmanship
sentence structure
or what I could recite back
after nights of intense memorization. . .
THOSE TEACHERS
that wanted a piece of my mind
and a part of my heart
by inspiring me
with theirs;
who challenged me to read
WHAT WASN’T
on the syllabus
but more in my dreams;
IT
was the one thing that shaped me then
and still drives me now
T H I S
EDUCATION OF THE HEART
which you never graduate
nor receive a degree
but something far
F A R
more important:
A DEEPLY MEANINGFUL LIFE
. . .PAY ATTENTION, CLASS
The Lectures have ended
but the Teaching
is in a never-ending
S E S S I O N
and it’ll not only assure
that your heart will beat differently
IT WILL GUARANTEE
you’ll cause other hearts
to be
forever significantly better
THIS
Education of the Heart
Forbidden to buy a Painting

Sometimes
Winning the Lottery
has so much more than
a dollar amount. . .
Sometimes
it’s something so much more
valuable
E X P E N S I V E
P R I C E L E S S. . .
that’s what I thought
THE FIRST TIME
I saw Titus Kaphar’s painting
and then read his poem
which painted many different
i m a g e s
in the pages of my mind
‘I Cannot Sell You This Painting.’ Artist Titus Kaphar on his George Floyd TIME Cover
Painting by Titus Kaphar for TIMEIDEASBY TITUS KAPHAR JUNE 4, 2020 6:19 AM EDTTitus Kaphar is an American artist whose work examines the history of representation
Artist Titus Kaphar painted the portrait that appears on the cover of this week’s TIME. He has written the following piece to accompany the work which hopefully now will be a part of our work:
I
can not
sell
you
this
painting.
In her expression, I see the Black mothers who are unseen, and rendered helpless in this fury against their babies.
As I listlessly wade through another cycle of violence against Black people,
I paint a Black mother…
eyes closed,
furrowed brow,
holding the contour of her loss.
Is this what it means for us?
Are black and loss
analogous colors in America?
If Malcolm could not fix it,
if Martin could not fix it,
if Michael,
Sandra,
Trayvon,
Tamir,
Breonna and
Now George Floyd…
can be murdered
and nothing changes…
wouldn’t it be foolish to remain hopeful?
Must I accept that this is what it means to be Black
in America?
Do
not
ask
me
to be
hopeful.
I have given up trying to describe the feeling of knowing that I can not be safe in the country of my birth…
How do I explain to my children that the very system set up to protect others could be a threat to our existence?
How do I shield them from the psychological impact of knowing that for the rest of our lives we will likely be seen as a threat,
and for that
We may die?
A MacArthur won’t protect you .
A Yale degree won’t protect you .
Your well-spoken plea will not change hundreds of years of institutionalized hate.
You will never be as eloquent as Baldwin,
you will never be as kind as King…
So,
isn’t it only reasonable to believe that there will be no
change
soon?
And so those without hope…
Burn.
This Black mother understands the fire.
Black mothers
understand despair.
I can change NOTHING in this world,
but in paint,
I can realize her….
This brings me solace…
not hope,
but solace.
She walks me through the flames of rage.
My Black mother rescues me yet again.
I want to be sure that she is seen.
I want to be certain that her story is told.
And so,
this time
America must hear her voice.
This time
America must believe her.
One
Black
mother’s
loss
WILL
be
memorialized.
This time
I will not let her go.
I
can not
sell
you
this
painting.

and then. . .
I saw this little thumbnail picture
way down in the right hand corner of
Titus’s poem
and these words spilled out of me
from heart
through my eyes
down my cheeks
onto a crumbled piece of discarded paper
that missed the garbage can
from short range:
Why
NOW
am I always on the
Verge of Tears
With a movie clip
Or just the mention of it
A poem
Or just a well spoken phrase
A song
With or without lyrics
A scene
A smell
A glance
A touch
A sound
An indescribable feeling
And then
THERE
A flow of tears
No lash can hold back
Or no longer Dam
Flows a liquid saltiness
That can’t be
Diluted
But can only
Water
Nourish
What’s waited to grow
But never been fully planted
Or hardly nurtured
But now no longer
Ignored
I’m always on the verge of tears
Now
F I N A L L Y
(And hopefully for an ever)
Lump in the throat
Unswallowable
that never chokes
but makes the breath
in and out
different

Sometimes
Winning the Lottery
has so much more than
a dollar amount. . .
Sometimes
it’s something so much more
valuable
E X P E N S I V E
P R I C E L E S S. . .
Mr Kaphar
can’t sell me his painting
not because
he’s holding out
so much as us
HOLDING ON
(to all of the wrong things)
The UNholy Night

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
are you
FEELIN’ IT?
. . .not a whole lot of joy right now in the world,
huh. . . ?
Who
W H O
would have ever thought we’d forget about
COVID-19
in less than a week
with all of the riots
lootings
shootings
protestests
U N R E S T

It feels like the World
is getting tossed about
like a big beach ball
that everyone wants to
bat around
or kick
BUT NOT GRAB A HOLD OF
or just
C A T C H
. . .has it ever felt like
THIS
b e f o r e
searching for a
pulse
a heartbeat
that just doesn’t seem to
exist

I was in seventh grade, just a 13-year-old boy the night at Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated. I distinctly remember it as if time stood still as my parents watched a news cast, that interrupted our regular programming; it wasn’t so much what my parents said as what their faces were shouting: HORROR. SHOCK. SADNESS. . .
I had seen that look on their faces when I came home from school as a nine-year-old boy the day that John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
I remember telling them that night as Walter Cronkite tried telling us the facts, setting the scene, maybe this was a good thing so now people wouldn’t riot anymore or protest and remember even more distinctly how they explained to me how this was a terrible thing and that there may be even more unrest and violence and protesting.
It was only a few days later when my dad was at a meeting and my mother and my two brothers and sister were at home and we heard a commotion out on the street and we went out on the porch there were hundreds of African-American people walking down our street from The Projects’ a few blocks away. Just walking. Not shouting. Not rioting. Not looting or burning anything. . .
Just walking. . .
They were going downtown for a peaceful protest in memory of Dr King.
I was terrified,
I had never seen a sea of people moving methodically down
a city street and its sidewalks;
I never wanted the protection of my father more than at that moment.
I have had other moments of being terrified and there’s a certain way your heart beats like at no other time than during
THAT FEELING. . .
My heart has beaten that way over this past week making me feel like a scared-trying-to-figure-it-all-out-13 yr old boy. . .

This Christmas tree is in my office overlooking my desk;
It was a gift a couple of years ago from my office buddies,
two great Social Workers,
Jen and Rachel
who have done of some of their best work on me;
they appropriately celebrated my Birthday by proclaiming it,
MERRY CHUCKMAS
. . .the 25th of every month
I usually post some Christmas scene as a reminder that it’s
MERRY PRACTICE CHRISTMAS
and everyone on FaceBook gets really annoyed
and tells me
“DON’T RUSH IT”
or
“IT’S WAY TOO EARLY”
as if it was a curse for them to carry
or a chaotic Season to be avoided,
BUT HERE’S THE TRUE REASON:
Because I want the World to be now
what it is
T H E N
kind
caring
loving
accepting
forgiving
giving
peaceful
happy
content
and I just don’t want it to be contagious
I want it to be
e v e r l a s t i n g
I want the message of Christmas
to be a message of
N O W

To be a
LIGHT
no one was looking for
AND FINDS,
a n y w a y. . .
So on the 25th of every month
I play Christmas Carols
but I’ve been playing them a lot since
George Floyd
was brutally killed
in front of all
us. . .
My Favorite?
O HOLY NIGHT. . .
2nd verse:
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is Love and His gospel is Peace;
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And in his name all oppression shall cease,
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful Chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his Holy name!
and then the
CHORUS
which now forever haunt me:
FALL ON YOUR KNEES
(Fall on your knees,)
(Fall on your knees,)
(I can’t get the image out of my head of a police officer’s bent knee on the neck of Mr. Floyd)
Oh hear the angel voices!
O night divine! O night when Christ was born.
O night, O holy night, O night divine.
SO
so, so many
UN-HOLY NIGHTS
knowing that ultimately
LOVE CAN’T BE LEGISLATED
but it can be
abundantly given
making us all
hopeful
grateful
affected
victims
of its power. . .

We need a little Christmas
in all of its shapes and sizes
with an ample amount of flavor
to keep it fresh. . .
talk about a different heart beat

B E
I T
NOT by the Book

THIS BOOK
is about 4 years old. . .
Someone gifted it to me and I have never fully read it through;
I’ve thumbed through it,
read it’s
CONTENTS
page and
the following before putting it on
THAT SHELF
for further reading
and I picked it up over these past few days and read it’s own
DESCRIPTION:
Would you like to change the world but feel like there’s nothing you can do? What if you discovered you could change everything with just five breaths and one kind thought? Want to help heal America? Our planet? The Global Kindness Revolution is the way forward. You don’t even have to get out of bed to join. You only need to take five breaths and think a kind thought, each day, at noon. Kindness at Noon, Everyday, Everywhere is a call to action to all, regardless of beliefs, background or religion, who are craving a kinder, gentler world.
This is a guide to exploring those aspects of ourselves we’re unaware of, such as suppressed anger and racism, that keep us in the dark and prevent us from embracing our neighbor, or what we perceive as the “other.” Scientists call the primitive part of our brains the “lizard” brain from the times when we hunted dinosaurs. Now, in this tumultuous era where viciousness and apathy fills the airwaves, The Global Kindness Revolution aims to elevate our collective mindset, to nurture the “Kind Mind” where empathy and compassion are on automatic.
The book provides exercises and guidance for incorporating a kindness lifestyle. It includes practices to enhance our connection with Mother Earth, and perspectives on what it means to be kind to oneself. It drills down into social issues that impact us individually and as a whole, and how we can navigate our social interactions with more compassion. It suggests ways to improve our personal relationships and our community, and how to maintain a healthy existence with the domination of technology.
The magic of this revolution is its global appeal calling on millions around the world to pause for Kindness at Noon. More are joining the cause to diminish the violence, racism and meanness humanity has continuously been plagued with. What began as a simple experiment in a Pennsylvania prison has expanded into a global initiative making a mark in countries like Nepal, Afghanistan and Egypt, directly addressing the refugee crisis, violence against women, and other injustices in dire need of change.
Kindness at Noon, Everyday, Everywhere. Join us!
SOUNDS GOOD,
r i g h t. . . ?
A N D
nothing against this fine book
and the exercises it implores us to use,
B U T
now’s not the time for words
or books
filled with them. . .
WE ARE
far past needing books about
h e a l i n g
VIOLENCE
RACISM
MEANNESS
but
right on time about
B E I N G
A Volume of
PEACE
ACCEPTANCE
KINDNESS
. . .funny, huh,
THESE TOO, ARE WORDS. . .

and we need to not only be carriers of
SUCH LOVE
but
INFESTERS OF THIS LOVE
that knows
NO
antidote or vaccine
. . .A time
to stop drawing lines in the sand
to be sided against
or straddled

BUT CREATORS OF CIRCLES
that include
and never
e x c l u d e
US ALL

This is to be
A Caring Catalyst
not words
not ideals
not experiments
not wishes
not hopes
not philosophies
BUT A LIVE
ACTIVE
Circle making inclusive
FORCE
one compassionately kind act at at time
(UNCONDITIONALLY)

For Now. . .
It’s not a time to do things by
THE BOOK
and if words be necessary at all. . .
May it be
that we are all more
ADJECTIVES
and way less
NOUNS
A PARADE OF ONE
On our morning walk
we didn’t find a parade,
One found and included us. . .
It was different this year,
wasn’t it?
MEMORIAL DAY
Yes, we know it’s the start of summer
. . . it used to be the start of summer vacations
. . . it used to be trips and vacation spots
hotdogs, potato salad, family gatherings,
it used to be a lot of fun. . .
It was different this year
and maybe not even because of the pandemic. . .
Maybe it’s because we remember different this year;
maybe right now even in the midst of
our-at-the-very-moment heartbeats,
we are writing a History
no book has ever held. . .
And maybe
MEMORIAL DAY
with all of its modifications this year
is even more special
than all the years that we’ve celebrated it
in the past. . .
And just maybe
that’s what will remember
about this
MEMORIAL DAY
Instead of us commemorating it,
IT
now commemorates each and everyone of us
in the most special and significant way. . .
Maybe. . .

With a most
sincere
honest
pure
Parade of One
(y o u)
(NOTE THE REASON FOR THIS SPECIAL
SECOND BLOG POST ON MEMORIAL DAY
IS A THING OF RECOGNITION AND HONOR FOR):

OAT’ed UP
I shared this over three years ago under much different circumstances;
C I R C U M S T A N C E S
that could have never have been imagined
and far from understood
C I R C U M A T A N C E S
that still
even at our most current moment
are difficult to imagine
and feel far from being understood. . .

B U T
Maybe there’s another
a different way
of seeing
I T :
There is sowing your oats
and then there is serving them,
eating them
and digesting
all the goodness
that can’t begin to fit on a spoon,
in a bowl
or even on a cafeteria tray
or a table. . .
EAT UP!
and make a NOTE
of BEING
THE GOOD YOU MAKE
Feeling IT

(You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.)
“When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting and less scary.” ~Fred Rogers
If you are a human on earth at the moment, you’re likely feeling the uncertainty and anxiety of living in the time of a pandemic. It’s not something we have seen before in our lifetime, so every step is a new one, and the end is unknown and nowhere in sight.
Everyone is coping in their own way. Some are fearful and anxious right now. Others insist on staying on the positive side. Still others are in denial and perhaps will feel the emotional effects later or when it hits their area. Or, more commonly it seems, we have some combination of all three at various times throughout the same day.
It’s all normal. . .
Until it’s not

I was minding my own business Monday night
when the news slapped me across the face
and alerted me about Dr. Lorna Breen, a front line New York City ER Doctor who had to not only deal with the COVID-19
but herself was infected and had recently recovered from it
and had just started back to work
before being sent back home to Virginia
to recover further with her family. . .
Dr. Breen, 49, did not have a history of mental illness, her father said. But he said that when he last spoke with her, she seemed detached, and he could tell something was wrong. She had described to him an onslaught of patients who were dying before they could even be taken out of ambulances.
“She was truly in the trenches of the front line,” he said.
He added: “Make sure she’s praised as a hero, because she was. She’s a casualty just as much as anyone else who has died.”
Listen,
I haven’t missed a day of work since we have been sheltered in place
but I haven’t knowingly dealt with any patient that has tested positive for COVID-19; I have witnessed thousands of deaths, some terribly filled with suffering but none with this disease who have had to not only endure dying but often without any one, let alone a cherished love one, by there sides.
I HAVE NO IDEA
no understanding
and no personal willingness to find out. . .
I have come to realize there is no right or wrong way to feel emotionally. Everyone is doing the best they can based on their own coping style and I have the awesome blessing of merely
c o m p a n i o n i n g
them
instead of trying to
FIX THEM

As a life-long recovering people-pleaser,
I used to try to talk people out of their feelings,
make them feel better
by taking over responsibility for their emotions. . .
Essentially,
I had to fix them to make myself feel better. . .
H E Y
People have a right to be angry.
Everyone has the right to feel anxious.
It is not my job to judge how anyone reacts to life. . .
It’s theirs. . .
It is my job to be a compassionate witness to their suffering and to my own suffering. . .
Every day
I go back to School to learn this lesson
It’s a hard subject to learn
(if it’s even a possible goal)
Life as an empath
One who feels intensely,
can sometimes feel you are being tossed around
in a tiny boat in an open ocean,
with no solid ground. . .
When some are looking for
GROUND ZERO
others are just looking for a piece of solid sod
to plant their feet. . .
It’s a terrible feeling.
So we struggle,
we fight,
we gasp for air,
and occasionally come up to breathe
for long enough to see
the sun setting on the horizon
and better still–
TO SEE IT RISE AGAIN
in the Morning
We wonder
don’t we
how other people seem to live easier,
to ride the waves smoother
and leave storms behind
as they head for calmer waters. . .
Until we find out that we see and feel things differently,
more acutely,
and have to learn the skills to row efficiently,
with the wind,
and in the preferred direction
without a broken compass. . .
It’s one thing to be a little boat
getting tossed about
and it’s another to do it without
a life jacket. . .
During this time
when the world can feel overwhelming
and too,
too much,
just take the time
to do a little check up
from the neck up
Notice where you are, who you are with, and what you are doing.
Breathe into the tight areas and imagine
breathing out your compassion
into the world.
If someone you are with is anxious, can you stay present and breathe?
If not, take a break and find compassion for yourself.
Notice what you are consuming—news, stressful or needy people, violence in movies or TV;
decrease and take lots of nature breaks. . .

It’s real easy to see
and to know
that we are all in this together
but it means nothing
unless we act like it
BEGINNING WITH OURSELVES

N O W
THAT IS
FEELING IT

MORE than JUST

I’ve always been captivated
by a
Mustard Seed
it’s size
it’s might
it’s story(S). . .
There is an old Chinese tale about a woman whose only son died. In her grief, she went to the holy man and asked, “What prayers, what magical incantations do you have to bring my son back to life?”

Instead of sending her away or reasoning with her, he said to her, “Fetch me a mustard seed from a home that has never known sorrow. We will use it to drive the sorrow out of your life.” The woman went off at once in search of that magical mustard seed.
She came first to a splendid mansion, knocked at the door, and said, “I am looking for a home that has never known sorrow. Is this such a place? It is very important to me.”
They told her, “You’ve certainly come to the wrong place,” and began to describe all the tragic things that recently had befallen them.
The woman said to herself, “Who is better able to help these poor, unfortunate people than I, who have had misfortune of my my own?”
She stayed to comfort them, then went on in search of a home that had never known sorrow. But wherever she turned, in hotels and in other places, she found one tale after another of sadness and misfortune.
The woman became so involved in helping others cope with their sorrows that she eventually let go of her own. She would later come to understand that it was the quest to find the magical mustard seed that drove away her suffering.

From a
T H A T
came
T H I S
which always makes it so much more than a
J U S T

How is it
the tiny
holds the infinite
tirelessly
endlessly
without us all bearing
its weight
Which be you
A mustard seed Farmer
A mustard seed Sower
A mustard seed Cultivater
A mustard seed Harvester
A mustard seed Distributor
A mustard seed Holder
There’s only one thing better
than the unnoticed
in the each of us
A mustard seed Giver
We
the tiny mustard seed
don’t need faith
its size
but the unblinded eye
to even fuzzily see
we’ve always possessed it
all ways
been possessed by it
without rarely harnessing it
How
how it is
the infinitesimal
holds the immense
held in the each of us
tirelessly
endlessly
if not
in each’s other
for an ever
Oh uprooter of trees
mover of mountains
making us more than
j u s t s
How

Right Words at Wrong Times

I recently read an article from Harvard Business Review
that spoke some
RIGHT WORDS
at some
WRONG TIMES. . .
When New York Governor Andrew Cuomo announced that all nonessential workers should stay home to slow the spread of the novel coronavirus, a reporter asked why he had decided to issue a “shelter-in-place” order. Cuomo corrected him:
“It is not shelter in place. Words matter, because people are scared, and people panic. Shelter in place is used currently for an active shooter or a school shooting. We are fighting a war on two fronts. We are fighting the virus, and we are fighting fear. When we act on fears, then we’re in a dangerous place.”
Throughout much of human history, leaders have relied on their words to spark action. And many economists and CEOs today swear that words are the most important tool in a world where “command and control” leadership has given way to power by persuasion.
Cuomo has mastered the skill. His press briefings demonstrate how in times of crisis, words are essential to capturing the attention and trust of your audience. Business leaders who want to serve as beacons of clarity and hope for their teams during this uncertain time can follow his lead by applying a few best practices to their speech.
Replace long words with short ones. . .
In his groundbreaking book Thinking, Fast and Slow, Nobel economist Daniel Kahneman writes, “If you care about being thought credible and intelligent, do not use complex language where simpler language will do.” Effective leaders speak in simple language — and simple means short.
This is especially true during a crisis, when attention spans are flagging and noise levels are high. People are being bombarded by information, some of which is misleading or false. The clearer and more concise you are, the better your chances of getting your message across and persuading people to act on it.
In mid-March, when Cuomo issued the order that would upend life for millions of New Yorkers and shut down the world’s financial center, he had to make the news instantly clear and understandable. So he tweeted this message: “Stay Home. Stop the Spread. Save Lives.” The post spoke volumes — in just 39 characters amounting to seven one-syllable words.
If Cuomo had tried to come off as what many consider “professional,” his message might have sounded like this: “For the preservation of public health and safety, I hereby order all residents not engaged in essential activities that impact critical infrastructure to remain in their residences in order to mitigate the propagation of the coronavirus and to minimize morbidity and mortality.”
Consider the two messages side-by-side. The “professional” version is confusing and convoluted, full of the bureaucratic jargon effective communicators avoid. The Twitter message uses simple Anglo-Saxon words such as “stay,” “home,” and “lives.” Compared with words derived from Latin, Anglo-Saxon words are more likely to be monosyllabic, concrete, and easy to understand.
As you think about how to share your next message, remember that language influenced by the Anglo-Saxon period has been used by many great leaders. Winston Churchill once said, “The shorter words of a language are usually the more ancient. Their meaning is more ingrained in the national character and they appeal to greater force.” In a memo titled “Brevity,” he urged government administrators to replace long “woolly phrases” with single conversational words, pointing out that brevity equals clarity and that directness makes things easier to understand.
Find analogies. . .
Neuroscientists have found that our brains process the world by associating the new or unknown with something familiar. When presented with a novel idea, our brains don’t ask, “What is it?” They ask, “What is it like?”
Isn’t this why Dr. Amy Acton is so effective in her daily appearances along side Governor Mike DeWine of Ohio? Analogies answer that question. They serve as mental shortcuts that help us understand complex events. Leaders who are great communicators in a crisis are skilled at finding analogies, because they have to persuade people to act quickly.
Cuomo used that strategy on April 4, resurrecting President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “fire hose” analogy to explain why it was in Oregon’s best interests to send 140 ventilators to New York. “We’re all in the same battle,” he said. “You want to contain the enemy. Oregon could have a significant problem towards May. Our problem is now. It’s smart from Oregon’s self-interest. They see the fire spreading. Stop the fire where it is before it gets to my home.”
Let’s look at the original context. In 1940, with Nazi Germany having set its sights on England after conquering France, Churchill appealed to Roosevelt for arms and supplies. In response, Roosevelt proposed the Lend-Lease program, under which America would loan war supplies to allies while remaining neutral itself. Here’s how he sold it to the public: “Suppose my neighbor’s home catches fire, and I have a length of garden hose four or five hundred feet away,” he said. “If he can take my garden hose and connect it up with his hydrant, I may help him to put out his fire.”
Roosevelt emphasized that he wouldn’t ask his neighbor to pay for the hose ahead of time. If it was intact after the war, the neighbor would return it. If it was damaged, the neighbor would replace it. The message, in short: Although both sides are acting out of self-interest, they can work together to stop chaos from spreading.
After drawing on Roosevelt’s analogy from 80 years before, Cuomo observed that “FDR had such a beautiful way of taking complicated issues and communicating [them] in common-sense language.”
Personalize the crisis. . .
The human brain is also wired for storytelling. In his best-selling book Sapiens, historian Yuval Noah Harari argues that it was only through stories that our species was able to conquer the world. Our advanced language skills — specifically, our ability to connect with one another through narrative — allowed us to cooperate in ways other species could not.
Cooperation is essential in a crisis, so effective leaders need to be strong storytellers.
Dr. Deborah Birx, the White House’s Coronavirus Response Coordinator, is a case in point. She has built a reputation for using personal stories to connect with her audiences. On March 25 she told a heart-wrenching story to underscore the importance of social distancing.
Birx’s grandmother, Leah, was just 11 years old during the 1918 flu pandemic, which killed some 50 million people. Leah caught the flu and infected her mother, who had a comprised immune system and died from the disease. “[Leah] never forgot that she was the child who was in school who innocently brought that flu home,”Birx said. “My grandmother lived with that for 88 years. This is not a theoretical. This is a reality.”
Birx told the story to reinforce her key message: All Americans play a role in protecting one another. The message appears to be working. On April 8, she announcedthat expected deaths from Covid-19 had dropped from earlier forecasts because “Americans are…following through on these behavioral changes.”
Observe the rule of three. . .
Scholars of rhetoric and persuasion argue that people like things grouped in threes, because we can hold only a few items in short-term memory. If you give people three instructions, they’re likely to remember them all. Give them five, six, or more, and they’ll probably forget most of them. And people can’t act on what they can’t remember.
In a crisis, leaders who give fewer instructions — but more-concrete ones — are more likely to see people act on their words.
Dr. Anthony Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Disease at the National Institutes of Health, is widely admired for his straight talk and steady demeanor. CNN has called him “a public force” who translates complex medical information into everyday language. His strategy? “You don’t want to impress people and razzle-dazzle them with your knowledge,” Fauci says. “You just want them to understand what you’re talking about.”
To that end, Fauci often limits himself to three key points. For example, in an April 5 appearance on Face the Nation, he said the country would be able to relax social-distancing guidelines only when three things were in place: “the ability to test, isolate, and do contact tracing.”
Fauci also stressed that Americans must continue to “physically separate” from one another by doing three things: staying six feet apart, limiting gatherings to 10 or fewer people, and avoiding mass interactions, such as in restaurants, bars, and theaters.
Like a virus, words are infectious. They can instill fear and panic or facilitate understanding and calm. Above all, they can spark action. So choose them carefully.

It’s so easy to
get our
WIRES CROSSED
these days
which makes it all the more important
To not just say the
RIGHT WORDS
at these
WRONG TIMES
but to make sure
they’re not so much
H E A R D
as they so desperately need to be
e x p e r i e n c e d
from
mouth>ear>heart=EXPERIENCED=KNOWN=SHAREABLE to the nth degree
a most uncomplicated Math
that not only can be understood
but taught
learned
experienced
known
s h a r e d
A HOLY PLACE

I’ve always thought that
THE HOLY
was never a Place
so much as
A PERSON
and more intimately. . .
Y O U
and from that came
THIS:
I went to Church
it wasn’t Church-ing

I went to the Playground
it was no longer a ground for play

I went to the Movies
they weren’t movie-ing

I went to the Show
it wasn’t showing
I went to the Concert Hall
it had been silently hall’ed away
I went to the Park
it was prohibitedly parked

I went to the Mall
it had indefinitely been mall’ed shut
I went to the Store
it had been mostly stored away
I went Home
it had been homed sheltered up
and though familiar
so utterly unrecognizable
and then
Then I journeyed in
to a cavern
to a nook
to a creaky cranny
I seldom visit
And there
t h e r e
was the holy
an altar not often knelt before
a communion rarely shared
a hymn not yet sung
a litany never recited
a homily vaguely strange
(maybe imagined)
a benediction
challenging to go forth
and make a difference
while urging me to stay
and know a sacred distinction
May be
(be it may)
that what’s Holy
is THAT which is
WHOLLY
ME
Perfectly Imperfect
ME
Ahhhhhhhhhhh
Christmas, Easter, New Year’s Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan, Eid Al-Fitr, Eid Al-Adha, Diwali, Holi, Vesak, Parinirvana Day, Chinese New Year’s
At Once
Wholly
Holy
In Me

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