Showing posts with label distance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label distance. Show all posts

Sunday, November 16, 2014

The Magic of Distance

A dear friend and I were recently analyzing the reasons that some out-of-town business trips can generate great memories with work colleagues who already are, or because of the trip, become great friends.

Many of us have countless opportunities to visit with work colleagues in the office, at luncheons and after work events.  When we're at home, each of these sessions comes to a natural conclusion, with each of us returning to the demands of daily responsibilities - job, family and community.  When we are out of town, these normal daily demands are temporarily suspended.  Those great conversations can continue without detriment to other responsibilities.

We owe it to ourselves, and those we hold dear, to create some less time-bounded opportunities to let our conversations morph as they can when our daily responsibilities are distant.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Better than Expected

With all of the running apps now available, I feared comparing my old trusty app with one of the newer, well-touted GPS-based programs.  Determined to meet my amended annual running goal, my concern was that I'd been overestimating my distance, and would fall impossibly short of the goal, if recalculation was necessary.  I decided to face my fear this morning and tracked my jog using both the old and new programs. What a surprise and relief to learn that my old device was registering less distance than the new app!

Sometimes facing our fears yields far better outcomes than expected.   And, we end the worry of not knowing what we'll find.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Miles Away and Ever Present

Edgar, Gar and I just made the 550 mile trek to Arkansas for another delightful visit with my parents.  We've made the trip ever so many times.  This time Julia's summer internship in NYC precluded her inclusion in our annual summer excursion.  While on the road, we called to see what she was doing and let her know how much she was missed.  Last night, as I set the table for dinner, I instinctively filled six glasses.  As Mama reminded me that there were only five of us, we called to let her know dinner was ready.  Though she's not enjoying all the love, laughter, sights, sounds and tastes, precious Julia is very much a part of our latest adventure.  She's miles away, but ever present.