Hiding in plain sight

No, this isn't about the keys on the table or the glasses on the top of my head. I'm talking about people who are hiding in plain sight. How many times do we "see" someone differently than they are?

Earlier this week, I had a conversation with a man I used to work with. A mutual friend suggested I speak with him about my next career move and put us in contact. I didn't know him well when we worked together. He had a reputation for being someone who didn't cut anybody any slack.

He was immediately open to our conversation. He was gracious with advice, with suggestions, and asked that I keep him informed about my search. It was obvious from our conversation that he cared.

So I finally met a very kind, gracious, nice man who was hiding in plain sight. And I wonder--how many nice people are hiding in plain sight?

I know that I do. I have a reputation of being difficult and demanding, as well. It seems people either "get me" or they don't. If they do, I like to believe they find a devoted, loyal, and genuine friend who goes out of my way for them. If they don't, they find someone who expects people to do what they say they will do and who holds them accountable for their actions.

Hiding in plain sight. How can I resolve these two seemingly disparate sides? I think the secret is that you have to give a little, even if it isn't comfortable. Step out of where you are and welcome people in. You both gain from the experience.

Sun/Shade

There used to be a huge tree in my back yard. It provided a lot of privacy and kept the yard cool in the summer. One day a few years ago, I opened my back door and the tree fell down. My first thought as, "Thank God." because the tree fell on my neighbor's house, not mine. I did realize the pettiness of that statement, but I still am firmly thankful of the outcome.

We had a late snow storm in April, with 3-4 inches of wet heavy snow. The lilac trees took the brunt of the snow, with many branches heavy with lilac blooms snapping under the additional weight of the snow. The lilac tree between another neighbor's house had to be cut back drastically to remove the storm damage.

Our neighbors across the street took down a huge tree in their back yard. Suddenly, the sky above their house is more visible.

And finally, our lilac tree suffered from the April storm as well, although we didn't realize it until weeks after the storm. I cut the tree back over the weekend, and realized our specimen red maple was almost bare on one side, because the lilac blocked its light.

These garden incidents changed the light and shade in my gardens. What was once a shade garden is now a sun garden. Where once ferns and other shade-loving plants thrived, now these plants are smaller, browner, drier looking. But they are growing. The red maple may be a lost cause, but it keeps its pretty side toward our house. From several angles, you wouldn't even know it was damaged.

The front yard seems lighter and sunnier with our neighbor's back yard tree removed. The gardens in the front of the house are changing and adapting to their new situation.

So my gardens can adapting after about 15 years of being one thing--sun or shade. If something so conditioned to being one way can change, I can, too. Now I just have to figure out what it is I want to do . . . to be.

Innovator? Ahead of my time? Or just plain lazy?

Today, I attended Tom Kelley's keynote at Rochester's "Eyes on the Future" economic development summit. While I'm not sure why it was called an economic summit--can you really have a summit with one speaker and a bunch of booths from banks and recruiters--the keynote was great. Kelley is the GM of IDEO, a design and development firm that has been involved with  creating many innovative products.

He describes "The Ten Faces of Innovation: The Ten Faces described

1. The Anthropologist
2. The Experimenter
3. The Cross-Pollinator
4. The Hurdler
5. The Collaborator
6. The Director
7. The Experience Architect
8. The Set Designer
9. The Storyteller
10. The Caregiver

 As I look through this list, i think back to my career. In 1985-1990, I conducted ethnographic studies of people at Xerox in order to develop better products (#1). At Element K, I was always trying to improve processes and not be tied to a specific tool (#2). And so on.

I was doing so many of these things before they were even defined. So where does that leave me? An I am innovator? Why couldn't I leverage any of my experiences into fulfilling work?

Sometimes I think I was always just a little bit ahead of my time. Or maybe I was too lazy to take advantage of the situation and make it happen. Certainly something to think about.

Faded Glory

This tree peony was gorgeous several days ago. Huge white blossoms. The entire tree glowed with light. Today, it is just another green plant in the garden, with wasted petals all around its base. How sad.

Sometimes, I feel just like that tree. I have moments of glory, I shine with light, and then  . . . Then, I am just another faded bloom.

A dear friend and I talk a lot about the aging process. Actually, it seems like all my friends and I do at some time or another in our conversations. How can we feel so vital and alive, and yet, especially in today's job market, we are over the hill.

A disappointing, and depressing, feeling. I'm not over the hill, I am moving along the road of life, taking another turn. What awaits around the corner?

Garden Sentinels

These lilies of the valley are keeping watch over the garden. Like silent sentinels, they signal the other flowers that it is okay to start the spring growth surge.

Lilies of the valley are hard to contain. They really are like weeds, silently marching across the gardenscape, taking over whatever hill or dip that they want. The good thing about them is that they seem to be ale to grow where others things can't, or won't. And they do add a green lushness to the garden. And they smell really good.

I'm not sure why I have this love/hate relationship with these plants. Maybe they remind me of me--strong, pretty, adding value, but also just a little overwhelming.

Focus/Journey

These items are mementos of different trips I've taken. The skates are from Lake Placid, of course. The fleur-de-lis is from New Orleans. The regiment guard and Batisse the goat from The Citadel in Quebec City. The fantastic shape on the left from the new art museum in Denver. The telephone booth, London. The arch, St. Louis. The shells, Amangansett. The chess piece, Lexington.

I saw a reference to a new photo system yesterday, the the Light Field Camera (LFC). Rather than capture an image the way your current camera does, it captures information about where the light is traveling. This information can then be turned into a picture or, more precisely, a series of pictures with different focus points. It is pretty interesting technology, and that's actually how I wanted to show my trinkets. I wanted to take a series of images with the focus on different objects.Why?

Although Focus/Journey are not really opposites, they do suggest different points of view. What do you tend to see . . . or not see?

Focus brings your attention to the what. A journey on the where. 
Too often I tend to focus on the what--the slight, the missed opportunity, the project gone bad, the time I, or my work, didn't get noticed. I need to focus more on the where--the journey of life.

Needing direction

I was driving down the street the other day and came across this post and mail box. For once, I had my camera with me, so I emulated my favorite photographer, John Linn (A Second Look), and grabbed a picture.

Whatever were they thinking? THREE house numbers on one post?

Okay, well maybe it fits for me, as well. I need direction. There have been so many twists and turns in my life lately that, sometimes, I don't know which way I am heading--or which way I am supposed to head.

How do you figure what to do, or where to go, after you've been doing it for a long time?