Bill Bradley Essay from Time Mag

From the April 9th issue... this made me think (full contents below for archive purposes):
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1604984,00.html

A Can-Do Nation

The pessimistic story we're being told about America's capabilities is just plain wrong

Bill Bradley

Why are we still addicted to oil? Why do 47 million Americans lack health insurance? Why haven't we made Social Security solvent for the long term? Why are too many of our public schools mediocre? Why have we lost respect around the world?

The answers to these questions lie in the story we're being told about America. It's a "can't do" story—as in "We can't save Social Security" or "We can't cure our oil addiction." It embodies a belief in unlimited individual possibilities but severely limited collective possibilities. It is a story of fear, lack of compassion and America-only policies abroad. And it is fundamentally an untrue story about who we are as a people, but it has been repeated so often on TV and in the press that many in the U.S. have come to accept it. ( Read more... )

Bill Bradley Essay from Time Mag

From the April 9th issue... this made me think (full contents below for archive purposes):
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1604984,00.html

A Can-Do Nation

The pessimistic story we're being told about America's capabilities is just plain wrong

Bill Bradley

Why are we still addicted to oil? Why do 47 million Americans lack health insurance? Why haven't we made Social Security solvent for the long term? Why are too many of our public schools mediocre? Why have we lost respect around the world?

The answers to these questions lie in the story we're being told about America. It's a "can't do" story—as in "We can't save Social Security" or "We can't cure our oil addiction." It embodies a belief in unlimited individual possibilities but severely limited collective possibilities. It is a story of fear, lack of compassion and America-only policies abroad. And it is fundamentally an untrue story about who we are as a people, but it has been repeated so often on TV and in the press that many in the U.S. have come to accept it. ( Read more... )

Bill Bradley Essay from Time Mag

From the April 9th issue... this made me think (full contents below for archive purposes):
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1604984,00.html

A Can-Do Nation

The pessimistic story we're being told about America's capabilities is just plain wrong

Bill Bradley

Why are we still addicted to oil? Why do 47 million Americans lack health insurance? Why haven't we made Social Security solvent for the long term? Why are too many of our public schools mediocre? Why have we lost respect around the world?

The answers to these questions lie in the story we're being told about America. It's a "can't do" story—as in "We can't save Social Security" or "We can't cure our oil addiction." It embodies a belief in unlimited individual possibilities but severely limited collective possibilities. It is a story of fear, lack of compassion and America-only policies abroad. And it is fundamentally an untrue story about who we are as a people, but it has been repeated so often on TV and in the press that many in the U.S. have come to accept it. ( Read more... )

Relationship Ruminations

A friend asked for happy-making things, and of course, being the ginormous schmoob that I am, I thought first of arbiter_of_cool. I shared:

I am learning in practice (and not just that abstract mental way) that I can lean on my boy. I'm used to being the supporter, not the supported. I can do this with friends, but I have never had a love be at least as strong as I am.

It's scary, but I am learning and as I do, my love grows more vast. I am finding the strength in vulnerability.

I've been a little off-kilter lately, you see—nothing earth shattering just yet—and I realized that it didn't even occur to me to lean. I could share the happy things or provide my ample Teutonic shoulder strength, sure... but I didn't even think about sharing something really (at the time) scary & bothersome. Not like I didn't think he could handle it... it just didn't dawn on me. Then when I did consider it (with a shove from buffalobills 'cuz she's just good like that), I got scared. What if he thought less of me? ("I don't see how we could!" Sorry... Lace non-sequiteur.) Plus, he's nearing the end of a really long, mentally taxing educational experience. What business do I have adding to his burdens? It's my mess, and I should be the one to clean it up. Any residual ugliness? Consequences I must pay, plain and simple.

But when it came right down to it, I was being selfish. My stress made me distracted and less than present in our precious moments together. We're a team, and it's not up to just me to decide what's best for us both.

What a refreshing thing to take a leap of faith... and land firmly in the protective arms of someone you love.

I know this is rudimentary stuff—and how sad that I'm in the downhill slide to 40 and just now getting this!—but it's pretty revelatory for me.

Reminds me of a quote I got in an email from The Universe:

"To love like you've never been loved before, you must love like you've never loved before."

Travis, you are my Sun, Moon, and Stars. I love you. Thank you for being patient with me.

Relationship Ruminations

A friend asked for happy-making things, and of course, being the ginormous schmoob that I am, I thought first of arbiter_of_cool. I shared:

I am learning in practice (and not just that abstract mental way) that I can lean on my boy. I'm used to being the supporter, not the supported. I can do this with friends, but I have never had a love be at least as strong as I am.

It's scary, but I am learning and as I do, my love grows more vast. I am finding the strength in vulnerability.

I've been a little off-kilter lately, you see—nothing earth shattering just yet—and I realized that it didn't even occur to me to lean. I could share the happy things or provide my ample Teutonic shoulder strength, sure... but I didn't even think about sharing something really (at the time) scary & bothersome. Not like I didn't think he could handle it... it just didn't dawn on me. Then when I did consider it (with a shove from buffalobills 'cuz she's just good like that), I got scared. What if he thought less of me? ("I don't see how we could!" Sorry... Lace non-sequiteur.) Plus, he's nearing the end of a really long, mentally taxing educational experience. What business do I have adding to his burdens? It's my mess, and I should be the one to clean it up. Any residual ugliness? Consequences I must pay, plain and simple.

But when it came right down to it, I was being selfish. My stress made me distracted and less than present in our precious moments together. We're a team, and it's not up to just me to decide what's best for us both.

What a refreshing thing to take a leap of faith... and land firmly in the protective arms of someone you love.

I know this is rudimentary stuff—and how sad that I'm in the downhill slide to 40 and just now getting this!—but it's pretty revelatory for me.

Reminds me of a quote I got in an email from The Universe:

"To love like you've never been loved before, you must love like you've never loved before."

Travis, you are my Sun, Moon, and Stars. I love you. Thank you for being patient with me.

Relationship Ruminations

A friend asked for happy-making things, and of course, being the ginormous schmoob that I am, I thought first of arbiter_of_cool. I shared:

I am learning in practice (and not just that abstract mental way) that I can lean on my boy. I'm used to being the supporter, not the supported. I can do this with friends, but I have never had a love be at least as strong as I am.

It's scary, but I am learning and as I do, my love grows more vast. I am finding the strength in vulnerability.

I've been a little off-kilter lately, you see—nothing earth shattering just yet—and I realized that it didn't even occur to me to lean. I could share the happy things or provide my ample Teutonic shoulder strength, sure... but I didn't even think about sharing something really (at the time) scary & bothersome. Not like I didn't think he could handle it... it just didn't dawn on me. Then when I did consider it (with a shove from buffalobills 'cuz she's just good like that), I got scared. What if he thought less of me? ("I don't see how we could!" Sorry... Lace non-sequiteur.) Plus, he's nearing the end of a really long, mentally taxing educational experience. What business do I have adding to his burdens? It's my mess, and I should be the one to clean it up. Any residual ugliness? Consequences I must pay, plain and simple.

But when it came right down to it, I was being selfish. My stress made me distracted and less than present in our precious moments together. We're a team, and it's not up to just me to decide what's best for us both.

What a refreshing thing to take a leap of faith... and land firmly in the protective arms of someone you love.

I know this is rudimentary stuff—and how sad that I'm in the downhill slide to 40 and just now getting this!—but it's pretty revelatory for me.

Reminds me of a quote I got in an email from The Universe:

"To love like you've never been loved before, you must love like you've never loved before."

Travis, you are my Sun, Moon, and Stars. I love you. Thank you for being patient with me.

Relationship Ruminations

A friend asked for happy-making things, and of course, being the ginormous schmoob that I am, I thought first of arbiter_of_cool. I shared:

I am learning in practice (and not just that abstract mental way) that I can lean on my boy. I'm used to being the supporter, not the supported. I can do this with friends, but I have never had a love be at least as strong as I am.

It's scary, but I am learning and as I do, my love grows more vast. I am finding the strength in vulnerability.

I've been a little off-kilter lately, you see—nothing earth shattering just yet—and I realized that it didn't even occur to me to lean. I could share the happy things or provide my ample Teutonic shoulder strength, sure... but I didn't even think about sharing something really (at the time) scary & bothersome. Not like I didn't think he could handle it... it just didn't dawn on me. Then when I did consider it (with a shove from buffalobills 'cuz she's just good like that), I got scared. What if he thought less of me? ("I don't see how we could!" Sorry... Lace non-sequiteur.) Plus, he's nearing the end of a really long, mentally taxing educational experience. What business do I have adding to his burdens? It's my mess, and I should be the one to clean it up. Any residual ugliness? Consequences I must pay, plain and simple.

But when it came right down to it, I was being selfish. My stress made me distracted and less than present in our precious moments together. We're a team, and it's not up to just me to decide what's best for us both.

What a refreshing thing to take a leap of faith... and land firmly in the protective arms of someone you love.

I know this is rudimentary stuff—and how sad that I'm in the downhill slide to 40 and just now getting this!—but it's pretty revelatory for me.

Reminds me of a quote I got in an email from The Universe:

"To love like you've never been loved before, you must love like you've never loved before."

Travis, you are my Sun, Moon, and Stars. I love you. Thank you for being patient with me.