Often, I'm tempted by a desire for glamor. This strange need to own a grand, stately, and rather ridiculous home. Then we add a car with chauffer. Perhaps serving staff, or a private jet. At least flying first class (man, the notion of leg-room sounds grand). Yet, it sounds rather empty. When I read such pieces as this one, I am reminded of what I enjoy. The modest pleasures of friends, wine, art. These represent the best I see in life. Though I occasionally get tormented by the fact my life is rather free of grand luxuries, I take solace in the glories within my life. Lest I forget these blessings, I remind myself of those who have so little. These things I take for granted, that seem rather humble to me, actually are grand luxuries to so many who walk this earth with me. That fact humbles me the most.
This post gives me pause. Meetings, the infernal overwrought obsession of our lives. It's not just corporate America, but the various groups and org's I've dallied with over the years suffer from meetopia, too. No one I know likes the blasted things, yet I don't know anyone offering up a successful resistance. Related to this, methinks, I have noted that I do a great deal over my workdays (check off a ridiculous number of to-dos) and accomplish little or nothing. The mass of tasks don't roll up to anything. And I've noticed a lingering sense of frustration lately. I spend precious little time reflecting on my goals, and how I can link them to what I do over the course of any given day. I'm so divorced from this, I really wonder what I really want to do, to accomplish any more. Within a recess of my brain comes a niggling thought. Perhaps this passion for meetings offers up a substitute for reflection. Knowing that we must account, personally, face-to-face f
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