love and gratitude

i don't know how we got onto the subject, but we started talking about the power of positive thoughts last night.

of course, i thought of glen, and his ability to orate, in a non-stop loop, about the power of positive thinking. while this autistic presentation of constant cadence bore hard on others, i looked forward to working with glen for a few hours every week. listening to the words, 'and that's the power of positive thinking' every fifth sentence always left me beaming. of course, all of our conversations were monologues, with a little tap on my shoulder every now and then to let me know he knew i was still listening. they were also peppered with a running tally of the number of gmc trucks that had passed in the last hour, day, week.

the conversations were also full of glen's hopes for family, college, work and a gmc truck of his own. but, it was more than hope, it was confidence. glen had no doubt that if he thought positively about things, for long enough, with equal parts gratitude for what had been given to him in life, all his hopes would manifest true.

enter last night's conversation. there is a book called 'the miracle of water.' it's a photo study of water molecules that have been exposed to positive or negative energy, then frozen to form crystals. the results are compelling.

the crystals exposed to negative thoughts are fractured, and chaotic, while the crystals exposed to positive thoughts are not. the work is far more intensive, working on large bodies of water, then the effects of drinking 'positive' water, and so on.

here's the hook- the two thoughts given to the positive crystals- love and gratitude.

about a boy

we played the get to know you game.

as we walked, she told me she always knew she wanted to work with dying kids. even when she was very young. this did nothing to make her less appealing to me.

my turn. she asked me what i wanted to be when i grew up. my answer was automatic, until i caught it in my mouth, just seconds before an accident. i shuffled my feet, i hedged. then i finally came up with, ' well, i wanted to be a doctor. then i wanted to be a lawyer.'

that's true. but that took me longer to figure out than the automatic answer.

what did i want to be when i grew up?

a boy.

i wanted to be a boy.

building

tuesday was an amazing night. i spent it working, then meeting up with some of the folks i love the most. i'm extremely grateful i was standing next to kati and marilyn for mccain's concession speech. and i was standing next to summer for obama's acceptance speech. these memories are precious and branded.

i lost track of my friends that night when my dad called. he wanted to be sure to talk to his kids on that historic night. i love my dad for many reasons, that phone call being one of them.

in the past week, i've talked to folks who supported obama, and folks who did not. there was one pervailing theme- hope. everyone has hope for what obama does. but what about hope for what i do? and you do? and what the person next to me does?

now, bear with me while it seems like i get side-tracked...
we're deploying a new program at work. i have both loved and loathed this process. i have loved seeing people rise to the challenge. i have loved being a part of pushing limits to achieve better performance. i have loved experiencing folks move from hating this product to loving its benefits. i have loved seeing the realization that we're all in it together. and kindness and forgiveness is just as required as expectation and delivery.

i have struggled with the pessimism involved in this project. i have struggled with the lack of effective communication. i have mostly struggled with the idea that the success or failure of this deployment seemed to rest on the shoulders on just about anyone else except the person i was talking to.

the success of this deployment depends on each and every person involved. it depends on each of us coming to the table. it depends on each of addressing flaws. addressing frustrations. and each of us hoping it works, til we experience enough to know it does.

i blogged months ago about hope and obama. barack obama is one of my heroes. but it was never obama that made me hopeful for opporuntity or change. it was everyone who showed up to the table. because for the first time in my life, we needed a whole new table. we needed a whole new building, actually.

keep hoping. keep acting. keep showing up. the work has not become easier, or slowed. let us not forget, in all the enthusiasm, prop 8 still passed. there is work to be done. despite any differences or similarities, i want us all building.

the results

my 30 day surrender pact is up.

here's what happened-

i learned that i need to ask and work for what i want, not just be happy with all that is offered.

i mean, by all means, be happy for the offerings! and... i need to work a little more on being less passive.

part of being open meant releasing- sometimes releasing hope, sometimes releasing nonsense. i had to release the notion that my friends can fulfill all of my relationship needs. summer and michelle are off being blissed out with others, and i realized how much stock i was putting in all of us being single for a while.

i met some folks. went out with some folks. will be going out again with some folks. its been great.

here's my task list-

• find my footing.
• stop accepting nonsense from folks. better opportunites will come. even if they don't, it's better than nonsense.
• stop waiting for folks to initiate everything, no matter what the stakes or arena or intent. get to know the woman i've wanted to get to know for three months. oh, and stop looking away every time she talks to me. or when she's so kindly introducing me to everyone at knitting group.
• keep working on this releasing business.

the last thing i learned- as much as i want a relationship, as much as the lonelies can tackle me when i'm with my friends, all of whom are now coupled, it's just not something i can jump right into.

oh wait, the real last thing- i owe a lot to surrender. i'm gonna keep it in my back pocket.

this is my bedtime story

IF there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he’s fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation’s next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming with us to the White House. And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics – you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you’ve sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to – it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn’t start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington – it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation’s apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn’t do this just to win an election and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime – two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor’s bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America – I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you – we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government can’t solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years – block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers – in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House – a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, “We are not enemies, but friends…though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection.” And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world – our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down – we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security – we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America – that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that’s on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She’s a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing – Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn’t vote for two reasons – because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she’s seen throughout her century in America – the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can’t, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women’s voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that “We Shall Overcome.” Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves – if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time – to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth – that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.