What we lack is a vehicle for stuff like this.
When you step in our front door, you meet this beautiful orchid. Next month, it'll be another. And later, yet another.
The delight never ends. And then there's the espresso machine. Somedays, that machine is the only reason I get out of bed.
Friday, we had dozens of art pieces on display, all done by colleagues. We are a creative bunch. Oil. Water color. Publications. Photographs. You name it. And from people you might never expect as having an artistic bent.
God, how I love it!
Monday, we had a few dozen different dishes from which to eat. All I wanted to do that afternoon was doze, belch, and fart, but I pushed myself to do the right thing.
The goodness that spread across the three tables was beyond expression.
Yesterday, we explored personal branding. A great deal of truth telling occured, and to my knowledge, not a feeling was hurt.
You might wonder when we work. If you do, you're old school. That thinking is obselete. Creative people thread it in. Doing the one enhances doing the other, and you and your program are the better off for it.
It's how we live. It's how we survive.
The quality of your fullfillment is enhanced by last night's essay, brush stroke, or haiku, which might have been motivated by that last phone call.
Can I get an amen? Or maybe an abracadabra?
-- text tapped from a virtual keyboard. You found misspellings? Imagine that. Get over it.