The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

GONE FISHING

By Leave a Comment

Sometimes the greatest
F I S H
caught are the ones
you never put a line in the water
to catch.          .          .
In fact,
those fish swim everywhere
in, out, through your imagination
for the greatest tales ever.  .   .
When this not-not-so-small-minnow
jumped into my boat
I wasn’t ‘fishing’ for it but
it caught me way before I even thought of reeling it in.       .      .
It birthed
almost immediately these
poetic thoughts:

FIRST TIMES

I don’t remember
the first time
I sucked a lemon
but I’m sure it
prepared me for the
second time
I knowingly wouldn’t
suck up to pucker up
again.  .  .
Candle flame burns
Electrical outlet shocks
Black ice falls
Hit the thumb instead of the nail hammerings
Hot pans on hotter stoves
Stumbles off of shaky branches
All First Times
that make a 
Second Time
not so much a lesson learned
as one to be remembered
to ever be taught
again.   .   .

A Little Fishy

By 6 Comments

images-4

THEY BOTH START WITH  “E”

E    M    P    A    T    H    Y

E    N    A    B    A     L    I    N    G

Psssssst:  They are nothing alike!

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime

I’ve never much followed that saying too much–labeling me severely guilty as an Enabler.           .           .

in fact, unless you’re a labeled Enabler you most likely have never heard of anyone ever disagreeing with the

T E A C H      A      M A N      T O      F I S H 

sentiment;

I don’t believe it–

which mainly accuses me of being something way worse than an Enabler:

A Self-Rationalizing Enabler

Seriously, I’ve always thought when a person was starving, it just wasn’t the right time to give them a

“here’s-how-you-fish-lesson”

I like treating someone to fish DINNERS

long before I get around to even think about taking them to

“here’s-how-you-do-IT-Institute.          .          .

Most forsake the

E   m   p   a   t   h   y 

step so they’ll never be judged for being the Enabler;

Most of the time when we see a

S    t    r    u    g    g    l    e    r, 

we give them the priceless gift of our wisdom:

Let me tell your what I’d do if I was a give-me-a-fish-every-day-instead-of-teaching-me-to-fish-kind-of-guy-like-you.       .       .

and then go into our Charlie Brown Teacher voice:

“Wha-wha-wha-whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. . . .”

L E A D    W I T H    E M P A T H Y

Is it possible that maybe,

perhaps,

perchance,

potentially,

mayhap this

e     a     t     e     r           o     f           f     i     s     h 

is peradventurely having the worst day of their life.          .          .          ?

If you,

out of the pure goodness of your heart,

pre-registered them to the finest

Learn      How      To      Fish      University, 

and they have this tragic learning disability

because of the mayhem in their life.            .            .

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.                .                .

do you think that would be the best

 l e a r n i n g      e n v i r o n m e  n t ?

Do you think they would be open and receptive to being educated in the fine skill of angling?

People–especially hurting people–

are more receptive to acts of kindness 

than spoken instructional words.

Take it from a life-long giver of fishes,

a most competent Enabler

who gives

Kindness,

Empathy,

Sympathy,

Sharing,

Love,

Acts of Generosity,

Acts of Kindness,

Caring,

Compassion

and Giving

despicably bad names.           .           .

Besides.      .      .

I      don’t      own      any      poles,    

tackle boxes

lures

hooks

bobbers

or  bait

 a           n           y           w           a           y.         .         .

 

FISHING IN A MUD PUDDLE

By Leave a Comment

No one would ever dare

F       I       S       H

in  a  mud  puddle

and expect to come away

with a bountiful

C          A         T          C        H

T  H  A  T

is   the   definition   of

E   X   T   R   E   M   E         F   I   S   H   I   N   G

.         .        .but  maybe  this  is  the

I  R  O  N  Y

of all

I     R     O     N     I     E     S:

we’ll never really know

because we’ll never be so foolish to

D           A          R          E

F          I          S         H

in  a  mud  puddle.          .          .

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm   of  the  DAY:

Why  expect  the  unexpected  when  you  don’t  do  the  un-do-able.          .          .

Time   to

done

gone

fishing

where  the  fish  have  never  bitten

because they’ve never been fished

.          .          .even one who’s never

line-in-the-water-fished

can’t  much  expect  a  nibble

from  a  line  that  never  gets  near  the

w     a     t     e     r

.            .            .the  impossible  rarely  gets  done

not  because  of  failure

but  just  because  of  zero  attempt (s)

Great   Day   for   E X T R E M E   Fishing

Mud Puddles–

Join   me

(No bait necessary)

You’ll  come  away

with  a

W H A L E      OF    A    FISH    STORY

second  to  none.     .     .

 

The Child of YOU

By Leave a Comment

We have forgotten how to be kids, huh?

Wouldn’t it be great

if there was a Charter School that

all adults

were mandated to attend

O  F  T  E  N

to learn how to be a kid again

or merely stay a child

or to dare be a child.          .          .

Kids would be teachers

and we’d all major in

R E C E S S

We’d learn their math
(That 1 + 1 = way more than two)

we’d learn their language

we’d learn their dream power

we’d learn their art techniques

we’d sing their kind of music

we’d have lunch time of ice-cream and cotton candy for a day

we’d major in mud puddle jumping

 J  U  S  T        B  E  C  A  U  S  E

 like Miss Emma

my colleague, Rachel’s daughter

who found pure joy

not by walking the zoo and seeing all of the animals

but finding a puddle shortly after a rain storm

and being ALLOWED by mom

to jump away happily.          .          .

ahhhhh.            .            .

to jump untethered in a mud puddle

or to go fishing in it and expect so much to catch fish

so much so

that you actually bring the tartar sauce along.        .        .

Pablo Picasso was right, wasn’t he:

“EVERYTHING  YOU  CAN  IMAGINE  IS  REAL; EVERY  CHILD  IS  AN  ARTIST, THE  PROBLEM  IS  HOW  TO  REMAIN  AN  ARTIST  ONCE  HE  GROWS  UP.”

This past weekend I became a child again.       .       .

but it was even more momentarily

than my several firsts go throughs.          .         .

We visited our daughter Zoe, our son-in-law Mark and our

granddaughter, Evey .        .        .

.          .          .literally moments before we were leaving

Eve forget to hold on to a coffee table and took

6-8 unassisted steps

HER  FIRSTS

and made us feel like we were taking our

First few steps.          .          .

my 62 year old heart

beat excitedly younger.          .          .

Some 12 hours later

a large part of our family gathered together

to celebrate my dad’s Birthday

We sang  HAPPY BIRTHDAY

ate cake, cupcakes, Birthday potluck foods

and celebrated that

L          I          F          E

is never made up from how many Candles are found on a Cake

so   much   as

M            O            M            E            N            T            S

.            .            .m   o   m   e   n   t   s

that aren’t defined by any age

so much as the endless child inside of us

desperately fighting to simply remain

a     c  h  i  l  d

reaching for a hand to hold

a dream to imagine

a song to sing

a  jingle  to  dance

a food to eat

a picture to create

and yes.          .          .

a puddle to jump into

again and again and again and.         .          .

Just in time to jump into a pile of leaves that begs never to be left alone

Life  is  filled  with

F     I     R     S     T           S     T     E     P     S

and D A N C I N G

our  A-B-C’ S

like TOMORROW

and YESTERDAY

is our forever

T   O   D   A  Y

and  that  our  best  creations 

are very next ones.          .          .

Now, that’s worth singing

H A P P Y     B I R T H D AY

with the loud refrain of

O N E     M O R E     T I M E 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man