buck rhyme

 With deep roots in small town Wisconsin, I grew up peacefully as the 2nd of ve children in Portage, WI. My parents, proud graduates of the University of Wisconsin, encouraged me to ex my wings by attending college in Madison, WI. There I learned more about life, love, and the meaning of protest than in any of my classes as an elementary education major. It is no exaggeration Iwas ill prepared when I accepted a job teaching 6th grade at an inner city school in Baltimore, Maryland. My career as a teacher proved to be unfullling so I returned to get a master's degree in counseling back in Madison. My attraction to working with juvenile delinquents was still strong so I took a job back in the trenches helping teens pay o their restitution obligations. I was soon promoted to the position of Executive Director and I thrived as a nonprot CEO, motivating others to perform small miracles with struggling teens and their parents. Nearing fty, I honored my entrepreneurial calling and became an independent consultant focused on leadership development and organizational eectiveness. I have been fortunate to work all over the United States, for organizations large and small, some thriving and most struggling to make changes. Now on the bright side of seventy, I take great pleasure in coaching 1 on 1 with leaders interested in growing their condence, skills and ability to motivate others to achieve their goals and make a dierence.  

 I greet the dawn in the Palm Springs desert with a sense of wonder.   As the sun rises, it casts the mountains in a golden glow while the full moon sinks slowly in the west. My coee, hot and creamy , warms my hands as I oer a few thoughts of gratitude to start the day. I am 74, it's Thursday, and I am ok. Shortly, two small energy bundles, masquerading as angels, Evangeline, age 7, and her sister, Lola, age 6, will rise to oer hugs, smiles, and all matter of giggles. What could be better?

As residents of Los Angeles, they are here with their parents to escape the smoke and ash generated by the great conagration that is currently ravaging many parts of the city. Their neighborhood, downwind from the Eden fire, is not in danger but scarred none the less. Ashes are everywhere, it is hard to breathe when you are outside, and schools are closed.   It is not a pleasant place to be. 

Conflicting emotions spark and rumble as I struggle to make sense of my current reality.   Time with grandchildren and your adult children is to be celebrated, despite not enough space, conflicting schedules, and mandatory pool time morning and afternoon. However, they would not be here if there were not wild fires devouring many parts of Los Angeles. Even without the benefit of television news, my sense of sorrow and disbelief about this tragedy is deep and persistent. How did the fire start? What will happen to the people who lost their homes? What about people in the service industry (including my son) who are likely to be out of work Will my daughter-in-law,  new to her real estate career, merely survive or thrive in the devastated real estate market of Los Angeles? Why are we arguing about fault and not paying more attention to the climate change warnings? 

I am slow to grasp the idea that both these feelings are connected. The world is a complex place, with happiness and sorrow present in equal measure. It is not for me to judge or get too attached to either circumstance.   Life on the edge allows me to experience both of these conflicting emotions without being consumed by either. I live a charmed life with good health, a beautiful partner of 50 years, a stone house with a view of the lake, and many other privileges accorded to my income status. At the same time, my California children's future is far less secure with drought, wildfires, and earthquakes on the horizon. When asked about the prospect of moving away to a more secure, greener location in Wisconsin, they respond with the conviction the charms of California outweigh the disadvantages.   Go figure.   Today, I feel lucky and blessed with family, friends and a view of the mountains.   Tomorrow, it is likely I will wake worried about the state of our democracy, the grim future facing California, or our collective failure to live peaceably side by side with our neighbors. Life on the edge always offers a choice.