The loss of something

As life moves for­ward, we lose some things.

When I was a kid, my fam­ily had ency­clo­pe­dias. I used to enjoy sit­ting down and read­ing them. Or skim­ming them to find inter­est­ing arti­cles. Hours and hours of my child­hood were spent learn­ing that way.

Today, kids have Wikipedia and Google. Both offer huge advan­tages over ency­clo­pe­dias. But some things are lost. I won­der how many kids spend hours comb­ing Wikipedia for inter­est­ing articles.

I have a Kin­dle, and I love it. But it’s far from perfect.

Recently, I learned of a high school not far away that is “paper­less.” No books, except eBooks. Again, some good things come with that — but some things are lost.

Build it to last

no-longevitySo, I’m in this con­fer­ence cen­ter. Well, at least the sec­ond floor was a con­fer­ence cen­ter. Any­how, one wall along the entrance con­sisted of sev­eral back­lit pho­tographs of famous site around the city of Boston.

Prob­lem: all were faded. That tar­nished my impres­sion of an oth­er­wise nice facil­ity. Solu­tion: sim­ply paint­ing the plex­i­glass pan­els a neu­tral color and putting small framed prints in the cen­ter of each panel would look much bet­ter at a frac­tion of the cost of get­ting new pho­to­graphic panels.

The inte­rior designer may not have known how quickly the pan­els would fade. Or the pan­els might have been there for ten years. In either case, putting them there with­out know­ing the col­ors’ shelf life — or plan­ning for their replace­ment — was a mistake.

Take­away: How are you build­ing that project to last? Or how are you plan­ning for its replacement?

Time and changes

stamp-container

As time goes by, things change. We all know that — it’s a basic fact of life. But we don’t always accept it in our deep-down inner-selves. Some­how we expect things to remain the same. Rela­tion­ships, our chil­dren, our home, our life. Even if it’s not a pleas­ing thing, when it changes, some of us get upset. Some peo­ple thrive on change and oth­ers hate it. You’re prob­a­bly some­where in the middle.

Any­how, remem­ber lick-em postage stamps? As we were clear­ing out my mom’s stuff, I came across this lit­tle stamp case — good for hold­ing about 10 stamps in a com­pact secure way in your purse or (prob­a­bly not) pocket.

In that case, change was good. Adhesive-backed stamps are supe­rior in every way I can think of.

What com­ing change in your life is one you hate? Love?

It may take time

glacier

Dur­ing our big hike, we encoun­tered this mas­sive slab of snow. Even though it was July 17 — and maybe 75 degrees — the snow still had a long way to go before it became water. That was the largest glac­ier I had seen at such a low alti­tude. (Last win­ter was one of the snowiest in many years.) For scale, Jay climbed on top — he’s below the point of the yel­low arrow.

Take­away: As you get frus­trated with that sit­u­a­tion that just doesn’t seem like it will ever change, be patient. It may take some time. And some warmth on your part may speed the desired change.

Reminder

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... Think out­side the box.

Stan­dard think­ing is what causes bore­dom, stag­na­tion and frustration.

How­ever, if you are an inno­va­tor, be patient with those who resist change. They have some­thing to offer you too — they will cause you to exam­ine your wild idea that could be a very pos­i­tive thing. They may help refine your idea.

We all need each other.