Questions

Who's driving this train?

                                   Who's steering this ship?

Who's manning the rudder?

               Who's flying this plane?

                                                   Who's at the helm?

Who's running this show?

                                     Who's in the driver's seat?

Who's in charge around here?

Riding the Holiday Train

My first time riding the CTA Holiday Train was entirely coincidental.  I was headed home early from work to meet an old friend and happened upon the holiday train for the last leg of my journey.  Decked out in lights and tinsel, holiday music echoing through the cars, and elves with candy canes, I was surprised to see the train pull up at the Fullerton Brown Line station.  Not knowing exactly what to expect, I boarded the train and was greeted by the smells of gingerbread and mulled cider. 

Even though I was only riding for one stop, I was swept up in the fun of the holiday train.  Looking at the schedule I realized that it would run again while my son was home.  I dragged him to the station for an evening trip on the Holiday Train.  We got there early and watched the crowds build.  Some families with young children, some young adults in their Christmas pajamas, and some people like me.  As we waited other Red Line trains arrived and those who merely wanting to get somewhere boarded, unaware (?), unimpressed with the growing sense of anticipation.  Finally, the bedecked blue train arrived, with Santa on his own car.

We crowded on and you couldn't help but smile along with the other riders.  The thought I had, on that platform, was that my Mother would have loved this. It was exactly the right mix of kitsch and tradition, of holiday, family, and fun. She would have marveled at the lights and decorations, amazed at the effort and effect.  I wish she could share the Holiday Train with me.  I shared it with my son, though, and that was good.

Holiday Greetings

My latest past time at work is critiquing holiday cards.  This is the first year I sent out "professional" holiday cards.  I did not anticipate the angst that would be associated with such a decision.  Clearly, these must be of the non-sectarian "Season's Greetings" or "Happy Holidays" ilk, no mention of Christmas and no religious symbolism.

But, beyond that, what should the card convey?  There is the snowflake option, a sort of winter theme.  There is the corporate option, some element of my position or institution.  Then, there is the art option; something abstract and pretty that evokes good feelings.

Of course, cost is a consideration as well.  Size, weight, envelope, color....all influence the cost.  When you are ordering 500, that is not insignificant.

In the end we went with a winter scene of campus.  My college doesn't yet have its own place so there is no iconic building or statue to feature.  Instead, we have a shot of a snowy sculpture outside the library--winter, art, and institution all in one!

Now, cards from my colleagues have started to arrive.  Some are fancy, some less fancy, some bizarre.  We seem to have hit a happy medium, so I'm content with that for now.

Just enough

I've become entranced by the phrase "just enough."  

I'm finding it a comforting phrase.  The word "enough" alone can have a pretty negative connotation.  It often means not "sufficient," but more than sufficient, as in "I've heard enough of that whining!" (when really you have heard more than enough).  It is a simple synonym for crying "uncle", begging for something to stop, "Enough!"   Somehow, adding "just" to the front of it makes it softer, friendlier, and happier. 

Of course, there is the phrase "good enough," often used as a cover up.  "I've done a good enough job," meaning I've done a bad job but hopefully nobody will notice or care.  My kids were skilled in this usage.

"Just enough" hits that sweet spot between lacking and overabundance.  It seems achievable, doable.  For me, it nicely blends my new fascination with the idea that who I am is "enough" with a more precise measurement. I am "just enough." But, even though it adds precision, it still seems to allow for a hint of imperfection.  You don't have to be everything, you can be just enough. 

And being just enough, caring just enough, writing just enough is a happy place to be.

I think I've spent just enough time on this topic....