Fear

Fear is an effective motivator when you’re running, swimming or jumping for your life.  When animals are chasing us, flood waters are rising or trains are barreling down the tracks, it is fear that propels us forward into safety.  It is fear that blindly moves us and sharpens our instinct for survival.  It is also fear that destroys us.

Fear is  dangerous.    Think of the chaos and mayhem when someone yells “FIRE” in a crowded theater.  Or the death of a Walmart employee because shoppers were afraid they wouldn’t get that big screen TV.  Individuals, afraid for their lives (or afraid they won’t fulfill their material desires) will cease to care about those around them; cease to be part of the community and will kill or hurt others as their fear consumes them.

Fear is equally dangerous when fear is used as a tool to manipulate, control and intimate others.  It breaks down moral.  It tears teammates apart.  It reduces us to our basest instincts as we respond, almost automatically, to the fear mongering, the bullying and threatening.

Yes, I believe fear is lethal and dangerous and toxic.

To a nation in financial ruin, FDR says this is the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, boldly and frankly.   Before a nation whose citizens were frightened, hungry and destitute, he states his firm belief that we have no time for fear.

It is my firm believe that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.

And so what do we gain from this?  How do we move though it when, despite our intention and our desire, we are gripped, frozen and paralyzed when facing a real or imagined fear?  FDR’s conviction is that only a leadership of frankness and vigor can move us through.

I believe that, too.   I don’t want this to sound “Polly Anna”, but can anything less than this be true?   Do deceit, or half-truths, or manipulation through ‘political spin’ really help us?  Do we learn to set aside fear and act anyway when we have been deliberately frightened?  Deliberately lied to?   Deliberately bullied?

I used to to think courage meant I had to be fearless.  That I could not feel fear.   I used to believe boldness came from scoffing at fear.   I know now it doesn’t.  Maybe it’s the years, or the number of bosses I have worked for, or the so-called leaders I have voted for (or not), who did not know how to lead with frankness and vigor, but I do know now, that boldness and courage come not from fearlessness.  Only daredevil stunts  really comes from fearlessness.

No boldness and courage come from stepping forward in the belief that no other choice is acceptable.

I am Thankful for my Auntie Susan.

I’m staring hard at 50.  That big milestone when life somehow, miraculously, changes and all things become clear. (HA!– that’s what I thought at 40!)   It’s also when those parts of the body that didn’t start falling apart at 40 are going to make up for lost time.  I’m quite looking forward to it, actually.  My friends Rachelle, Laura, Mary and I are already planning our big trip as the four of us will be turning 50 within a few years of each other.  We’re off to the Greek Islands and a Mediterranean Cruise.  I’ve set up my savings account and money goes in every week.  But that’s not the only reason I’m looking forward to 50.  50 is when I begin moving into that second-career phase of life.  It’s when I start to move into working for (or founding) non-profits, spending more time traveling with Mike and even gain more confidence in who I am and what I offer to the world.  But I have a few years to go yet, and this Thanksgiving, as I tried to find the element of my life I am most thankful for, I kept coming back to my Auntie Susan.

She is my dad’s only remaining sister and has been a steady fixture in my life since I was born.   I have always been sure of her; of her love for me and her joy at my presence in her life.  Many of the qualities I value in myself have been nurtured by her, influenced by her and often her voice inside my head helps me answer troubling questions.  I won’t go so far as to admit I ask “What would Susie do?” but you can connect the dots.  And, well, she taught me about kegels.  Which I really appreciate.

So why, specifically, am I thankful?  Because she lives her life in her own way and makes no excuses for her choices.   I like that she  laughs with an infectious eye crinkling, knee-slapping, waist-hugging, head-thrown-back, deep-in-her-spirit laugh, giving permission to women all around her to join in– even if it isn’t lady-like.   She deeply values her friendships and her family.  I am thankful she reads science magazines and doesn’t think math and science are for boys.  She believes good health is essential and guards hers carefully.  I am thankful that at 90 she is still curious about everything.  I am thankful she loves my mother so much.  And that one day, many years ago she wrote me a note.  ”Save your money” was all it said.   I am thankful for so many things:  she introduced my parents to each other and she thinks my husband is kind and wonderful and they tease each other mercilessly.

My Aunt Susie has lit a path for me my entire life.  I haven’t always understood that, but I do today.  As I examine my life I find, like her, I have friendships that span the decades.  I love to visit, to share photographs and stories.  I like to laugh.  I am curious.   And I too, love my mother and think my husband is kind.  And I have recently learned that my health is more important than almost anything and I will guard it carefully.

Oh.  And we both like pie.

Happy Landing

November 21, 1620 begins the history of our nation.  389 years ago today, the ‘Pilgrim Fathers’ on the ‘Mayflower’ make first landfall in NorthAmerica, at Cape Cod, New England.   We’ve come a long way baby.

102 men and women, plus a crew of 25 or 30, set sail aboard two ships in September of 1620, leaving the shores of Plymouth, England for the unknown land called America.  66-days later, 101 arrived.  Two people were lost during the voyage and a baby boy was born.  This trip was not the luxury cruise we imagine today.  It was 66  grueling days aboard what was essentially a cargo ship.

They risked everything to leave what they knew and strike out for a different life.  One free from religious persecution and religious controls by their King and fellow citizens.

As we celebrate Thanksgiving this year, I will be thankful that I live in a country where religious freedom is protected, encouraged and counted as a fundamental human right.    I hope those stirring up hatred and religious bigotry remember too.

Shorecrest High students impress with viral lip sync video

My friend Garrett and his classmates are famous! Or at least on their way.

Shorecrest High School students made a “lip-dubs” video for school spirit and it’s wonderful, joyous and funny. One of the school teachers challenged his students to make a video as a class project. 4 other teachers caved to pressure and about 150 student participated in the project.  6 rehearsals and they were ready.  The video was shot in a single 4 minute and 11 second take.

Their cross-town rival school is in the game and a  ”lip-dub” competition is under way in North Seattle.

My friend is the kid in the green sweatshirt and yellow shirt — he powers the wheelchair, and has a few other scenes.

Share it, celebrate and give thanks for teachers who use current tools to teach leadership, collaboration and thinking-out-of-the box.

more about “Shorecrest High students impress with…“, posted with vodpod

 

Vancouver Adventure, Part Two

Food.

It’s all about the food.  Dinner the first night is as good as some of us are lucky enough to get when Mike is cooking.  We call in Paint Chow and the food at Sooke Harbour House is done in the same style, the same approach, as Mike takes.  But they have a set of constraints, of limitations, that force creative solutions:  prepare world-class dishes using only edible ingredients that are in season on Vancouver Island, and only food that can be grown here in this current season, or put up in its proper time, like jams, jellies, chutney and such.

Sooke Harbour House is a quaint inn with stained glass, knotted rugs and local First People’s art combined with rocking chairs, old glass bottles and found-object art, mosaics on the walkways.

It’s not what we expected from the hotel that houses Vancouver Island’s Best Restaurant (April, 2009).  The dining room is quaint too, with crab shells hung on the walls and a huge stone fireplace in front of a seating area for those waiting on a table or just having a drink.  It’s comfortable, welcoming and perfectly suited to this location and the Inn Keeper, Frederique.

Okay, okay.  Now to the menu.  After our early morning flight, we were both still a little chilly.  So Mike started with a simple Parsnip Soup, topped with lamb pancetta and frizzled leeks.  My first course was seared scallop on a bed of fingerling potatoes, pine mushrooms, and roasted pearl onion.  Aged balsamic drizzled across the scallop, accompanied by hemp seed oil.  The hemp seed oil is different.  Groups of tiny hemp seeds are spread on the plate with oil ‘roads’ connecting them.  The seeds are crunchy like sesame seeds, but completely different.  They group together a little like green baby tapioca.  Flavor is mild, green and earthy.

For our entrees, Mike had lamb shoulder stew with sliced acorn squash. The acorn squash was sliced then, and cooked with skin on.  After being oven roasted, Sam, the sous chef, throws them in a hot pan to crunch up the skins.  Totally delicious.  My main course has grilled halibut on a chorizo ravioli served with Napoli squash.  We had never had Napoli and there are a number of varieties of Napoli and I don’t know which this was.  Shaped sort of like an elongated watermelon, and striped like that, too, the flesh is sweet, cantaloupe flavored when raw and pumpkin flavored when cooked.  Dice-sized squares were danced across my plate and the whole dish was set on a bed of roasted pepper and onion oil and Napoli vinaigrette.  It was absolutely the best dish we had.

Dessert, well, we couldn’t say no.  Mike had a cheese plate with four different local cheeses.  Our favorite was the Bessie Blue, a soft blue with an intense, but soft, blue essence.  Bessie is the cow who donates the milk to make this cheese.  I had a trio of sorbet that were amazing:  quince with angelica, raspberry mint and I can’t remember the third.  But man they were good.

Breakfast the next morning was a farm fritatta.

At 10:30 we meet Byron in the lobby and head out to the organic garden on the property. Everything that has been intentionally put on the land is edible.  Walnut and hazelnut trees, pine trees, fuchsia, tuberous begonia, evergreen kiwi… it’s delightful.  Byron walks us though the edible landscape, pointing out and letting us taste.  Fuchsia berries were our first surprise.  They’re delicious, about the size of an olive and tangy.  Apparently, the chef’s run out and pick them as soon as they appear and make jam.  Lemons don’t grow here in BC so they’re out of the kitchen.  Instead, substitutes like the tuberous begonia, lemon verbena and other lemony herbs are used instead.  The tuberous begonia is the only kind you can eat.  The leaves are very lemony and the cooks use then in salads and oils.  The stalks are taken and sauteed or candied.   It’s fun to walk the yard.  There are a few things we’ll try to add to our garden next year.

After all that food we headed out to town to explore the one-square block that is downtown Sooke.  We spend all of our time at the jewelers and I come away with a new ring!

Then it’s back to Sooke Harbor House and time for Mike and I to head into the kitchen. Down the back stairs and through the underbelly of the hotel into the staff changing room.  Mike is groaning the whole way about having to put polyester back on.  It’s been 10 years since he was in the kitchen but he’s dreading the return of kitchen dreams and is sure putting on whites will trigger them.  Unfortunately, I had the catering/kitchen nightmare dream that night and he didn’t.  Outfitted like chefs, we come back up the stairs and report for duty.  I work with Sam, their sous chef, and Mike is paired with Robin.  Since there’s to be no knife work for me, it’s peeling vegetables to start.  Mike is put to work making

goat cheese balls rolled in panko.  Once the parsnips, celery root and yams were cleaned, I got set to make Spatzel dough.  One pound of flour to seven eggs.  ”Weigh the bowl first” whispers Mike as he passes by with butter from the walk-in.  ”Doh”  I would have missed that for sure.

The dough is really thick and I need a big wooden spoon to mix it.  The whisk simply gets clogged with the dough.  We set that aside for a bit and put on a huge pan of water to boil.  Once that’s done a slotted pan is handed to me along with a flat spatula.  My job?  Make the Spatzel.  Putting the dough on the back side of the pan, I’m to press the dough through the holes and into the water.  It sounds easier than it is. The steam is hot, the pan is sliding all over the place and my arm gets tired.  Every 5 minutes or so I stop, scoop out the Spatzel, and start over again.  Mike comes over and is laughing at me.  ”All we ever did with Spatzel in school was ruin it.”  So at least I have one-up on him!

Spatzel chores completed, I get sent to the pastry chef for my next adventure.  Mike is still working with Robin.  He’s made blue-potato croquets and is now onto the parsnip and nettle soup that we’ll have for dinner.  I hear Robin shout over the hood fan noise “It’ll be a gross green color, Mike.”  Mike is splattered with this green mess when he’s done putting the parsnip and nettle mixture in the large blender  But it tastes great!.

In the pastry kitchen, I’m set to the task of making cheese rounds.  Soft jack cheese mixed with red, black and white pepper and lots of paprika.  The grated cheese and spice mixture is then to be put in rounds on a sheet pan and cooked until bubbly.  Then it’s time to burn our hands as the melted circles need to be shaped within 10 seconds after being removed from the oven.  Mike is done making icky green stuff and is there to help me lay the wicked hot cheese on the rolling pin to create the shapes.  We break a few, but all in all, we did okay.

Mike had more fun than he expected and so did I.  We thought we’d get a tour and be set down for a lecture.  We didn’t know we’d be helping to make dinner.  And Mike learned a few things, which was fun.  Mostly, though, he learned he can cook with the best of them!

After a short nap in front of the fire, we head down to dinner for a 7:45 seating.  Our 7-course extravaganza is about to begin.  Instead of the 7-course meal being planned as a single event, we simply get smaller portions of all the items on the menu.  Mike’s parsnip and nettle soup is the starter.  Served in a simple white plate with a deep indentation in the middle, the soup is a vibrant green garnished with the goat cheese ball and a small fennel frond.  It’s a simple, aromatic soup made without stock.  And it’s giving Mike “ideas”.

2nd course is a smoked black cod on the blue-potato croquette.  The final course is an under-whelming pork wellington.  The pork is stuffed inside the puff pastry with kale.  It’s a little dry and not that flavorful.  Set in broth, the pastry is soft and falls apart.

Dessert saves the day:  Quince Cheesecake with Buttermilk Ice Cream.  And it is heavenly.  Simply heavenly.

And it’s back to the room and the sleep of the dead.