Kids, cover your ears. What I'm about to talk about is something you will find deeply disturbing. The next paragraph is for the grown ups...
Allison and I just came back from spending a week in Disney World. Staying "on property", living and breathing "mouse" for a whole week. Without the kids. Yes, you heard me right, we went to Disney World for an entire week and left the kids at home. It can be done, and it was wonderful. Most people we told this to were somewhat incredulous that we would even think of doing this - for about 5 seconds - then they started to smile, and say "I wish I could do that"...
(ok kids, you can read again, the "disturbing" part is over)
One of the things you can't help but notice in this environment is that Disney knows details. They spare no effort or creativity is making sure that the entire experience is totally immersive. Every corner of the property is meticulously decorated and themed. When standing in line for the Mt. Everest line, it's often hard to tell which part of the "museum" you're in is real artifacts and which are fictional. Even the ropes and barriers to separate the line look like they are straight from the Himalayas. And as you roam the grounds, you can't help but marvel at the attention to detail. The employees, rather Cast Members, are all fluent in the language and mannerisms of their particular attraction. Their enthusiasm and commitment to even the small details of language and actions helps to pull it all together. And when you think of it, the details - The Little Things - are what make it Disney World, and not just another theme park.
Life, I'm discovering, is kind of like that. We focus on the big things, the attractions, and move from ride to ride with as much ruthless effeciency as we can manage. We are always looking forward to the ride that is coming, or looking backwards and what we just finished. Always impatient for what is yet to come. But how often do I find myself just looking around and admiring that Disney Detail that surrounds me? The attractions themselves last but a few moments. Most of life is spent standing in line. Fortunately, we are surrounded by marvelous details - meticulously crafted for our benefit. We need to take the time to soak them in, and explore where we are. Today.
Some of the attractions that I'm standing in line for aren't really all that much fun. I'm not looking forward to getting to the front of the line. When I look down the road at the "milestones" of DMD, life can get a little heavy. But this is a line up that I can't get out of. There's no emergency exit here. But our Great Creator has spent extra time on The Little Things here. When I pull myself together enough to look around, I see that he has put many more equisite details in this line than in any other I've stood in. The simple experience of being here is moving beyond words. Cast Members help out well beyond the call of duty - and I thank you all. This line up is designed for right now. The ride can wait - while I marvel in The Little Things.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
From our weakness
Last week at the kids school was Jump Rope for Heart. This is a fund raiser for the Heart and Stroke Foundation. To raise money, the kids jump rope for an hour in the gym, and collect pledges. The jumping isn't for an hour straight - they take turns in "teams", with each kid jumping for a minute at a time, and then resting for a couple of minutes before their turn again.
I dropped in to check up on Doug. (Allison had already volunteered with Samantha, who had jumped earlier in the day)
As you probably have figured out by this point in my blogging life, Doug isn't really a prime candidate for jumping rope. He doesn't have the strength in his legs to jump off the ground high enough to get a rope underneath - let alone to actually swing a rope at the same time. But there he was, taking his full turn in his team. And with the biggest determined grin on his face, he jumped. The rope made deliberate swinging motions, and his feet all but left the ground. Calling the motion skipping would be akin to calling my playoff goal celebrations "ballet" - but there was my Little Biker - giving his all for the cause.
It wasn't his ability that moved me that day, it was his willingness and determination to act in spite of his weakness. And it was his weakness that made my heart all the stronger. There was no "I can't do this", no copping out with a perfectly valid excuse - just a determined response to answer the call.
How much could I improve my life by taking his point of view? Instead of looking for the seemingly abundant reasons not to do things, why don't I just pick up my rope and jump? I think that many of us struggle with the misconception that we have to do things perfectly right, or they're not worth doing at all. Often, the fact that we are not the right person to do the job is what makes our help all the more meaningful. When we're going through rough patches in life, what we crave more than anything else is for someone to struggle through things with us. But we get too caught up in our own weaknesses and struggles to remember this simple point. We focus on ourselves, and all the things we can't do - when really, the power to impact the lives of our neighbours lies in our very struggles.
Pick up your rope, and jump.
I dropped in to check up on Doug. (Allison had already volunteered with Samantha, who had jumped earlier in the day)
As you probably have figured out by this point in my blogging life, Doug isn't really a prime candidate for jumping rope. He doesn't have the strength in his legs to jump off the ground high enough to get a rope underneath - let alone to actually swing a rope at the same time. But there he was, taking his full turn in his team. And with the biggest determined grin on his face, he jumped. The rope made deliberate swinging motions, and his feet all but left the ground. Calling the motion skipping would be akin to calling my playoff goal celebrations "ballet" - but there was my Little Biker - giving his all for the cause.
It wasn't his ability that moved me that day, it was his willingness and determination to act in spite of his weakness. And it was his weakness that made my heart all the stronger. There was no "I can't do this", no copping out with a perfectly valid excuse - just a determined response to answer the call.
How much could I improve my life by taking his point of view? Instead of looking for the seemingly abundant reasons not to do things, why don't I just pick up my rope and jump? I think that many of us struggle with the misconception that we have to do things perfectly right, or they're not worth doing at all. Often, the fact that we are not the right person to do the job is what makes our help all the more meaningful. When we're going through rough patches in life, what we crave more than anything else is for someone to struggle through things with us. But we get too caught up in our own weaknesses and struggles to remember this simple point. We focus on ourselves, and all the things we can't do - when really, the power to impact the lives of our neighbours lies in our very struggles.
Pick up your rope, and jump.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
On the precipice of chaos
One of the things I have talked about before is how much paperwork Doug generates. Every program has it's own set of reports. Some are incoming status reports of how things are progressing, and some are outgoing status reports of how we are directing funding or applying for new or updated supports.
Either way, we end up with a lot of paperwork. Allison is the consummate organizer, and we have several nicely categorized binders of stuff. It's all accessible and at our fingertips, and we (or at she) can pull out virtually any document within a minute or two. It has been very successful so far - as when we are at a meeting and a doctor asks about what another specialist said in their last report, we can pull it out of the backpack and provide instant information.
Except we're outgrowing the binder system. They are full to overflowing, and getting really really heavy to carry around. I don't think the system can handle too much more "growth". I feel the need to modernize.
I want to be able to scan and store all of the paperwork electronically. We'd archive the paper copies, and just go to appointments with the laptop. Ideally, I'd like some sort of document management system that would convert the paper to pdfs, and then index them by content so that we could search for files either by categories and dates, or by the contents of the files themselves. And, as more and more people request copies of files, I'd like to be able to track who has been given which files. Data privacy is very difficult to achieve retroactively.
I'm sure that such an application exists, but I've got a few new hopes as well. I'd like to be able to have it :
- store contacts and appointments
- link contacts and appointments to the reports and paperwork in the document manager
- not store things in proprietary formats - 10 years from now, I may need to get at the data without the applications
- be open source applications - I can't afford to maintain a multi-million dollar application for this
- be able to redact files so that I can give different versions of reports to different people depending on their needs
And then - being a dreamer - I have visions of something like this being made into a free distribution. A free, open source software package designed to run on a cheap laptop (like the EeePC) and made available to all of the others who find themselves in the same boat we do.
So, if any open sourcer's want to flex their skills on building a distribution, talk to me. I'd be happy to provide vision and direction to the process...
Either way, we end up with a lot of paperwork. Allison is the consummate organizer, and we have several nicely categorized binders of stuff. It's all accessible and at our fingertips, and we (or at she) can pull out virtually any document within a minute or two. It has been very successful so far - as when we are at a meeting and a doctor asks about what another specialist said in their last report, we can pull it out of the backpack and provide instant information.
Except we're outgrowing the binder system. They are full to overflowing, and getting really really heavy to carry around. I don't think the system can handle too much more "growth". I feel the need to modernize.
I want to be able to scan and store all of the paperwork electronically. We'd archive the paper copies, and just go to appointments with the laptop. Ideally, I'd like some sort of document management system that would convert the paper to pdfs, and then index them by content so that we could search for files either by categories and dates, or by the contents of the files themselves. And, as more and more people request copies of files, I'd like to be able to track who has been given which files. Data privacy is very difficult to achieve retroactively.
I'm sure that such an application exists, but I've got a few new hopes as well. I'd like to be able to have it :
- store contacts and appointments
- link contacts and appointments to the reports and paperwork in the document manager
- not store things in proprietary formats - 10 years from now, I may need to get at the data without the applications
- be open source applications - I can't afford to maintain a multi-million dollar application for this
- be able to redact files so that I can give different versions of reports to different people depending on their needs
And then - being a dreamer - I have visions of something like this being made into a free distribution. A free, open source software package designed to run on a cheap laptop (like the EeePC) and made available to all of the others who find themselves in the same boat we do.
So, if any open sourcer's want to flex their skills on building a distribution, talk to me. I'd be happy to provide vision and direction to the process...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Alone
Sadly neglected
alone I sit.
The world rushing by
will no-one stop
and pause
to hear my cry?
Look at me!
I offer a shoulder to cry on
a world full of experience
to share your pain.
But you walk on.
Leaving this blog to cry.
Never updated
Slowly decaying,
Fading off forever.
(ed: hopefully I'll update my blog more this year. If I don't, it may write some more poetry again, and we certainly can't have that.)
alone I sit.
The world rushing by
will no-one stop
and pause
to hear my cry?
Look at me!
I offer a shoulder to cry on
a world full of experience
to share your pain.
But you walk on.
Leaving this blog to cry.
Never updated
Slowly decaying,
Fading off forever.
(ed: hopefully I'll update my blog more this year. If I don't, it may write some more poetry again, and we certainly can't have that.)
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