Getting real: WhoGAS


A wise man, teaching me how to write news stories, said the key question the reader asks is WhoGAS – who gives a (darn). Why? What does this matter?

WhoGAS? What’s the point? Why does this matter? Why should you care, dear reader?

We are all passengers on this giant spaceship we’ve named Earth, and we have no control over where it’s going – none.

But we each control one little patch of flesh and blood that we’ve been entrusted to caretake. Working alone or in consort, we can convince others, help others, guide others, but at the heart of it all, we only control this little patch of flesh and blood. That’s all the power we each have, and perhaps – probably – that’s all the power we need.

The point – why you should GAS – is that the power to change/improve your life is in your hands. Yours. not mine. not your partner’s. not your parents. certainly not some person you never met and doesn’t know you. certainly not some group of people organized as a corporation or government. They can persuade, bully, cajole, threaten, but they. cannot. change. you.

They cannot hurt you, and if you have been hurt or feel hurt it’s because you let them. or because you turned control that is rightfully yours over to them.

Grab the wheel. Take the helm. Live your life. Your life, not someone else’s. The one you choose to live. The life that makes you real.


A sound tells a story

a sound tells a story

I hear a small plane pass overhead at 5:07 a.m. Why is someone flying now, before dawn? Even if they departed from Green Bay, a few miles down the highway, they had to get up while we were sleeping, get to the airport, prep the plane and take off at 5 a.m.

What mission led them to do this, to what important meeting are they heading?

Each of the trucks whining by on the highway – each of the cars carrying people on vacation – they are filled with stories.

The deer who walk across the field and nibble on leaves have a story. The fragment of antler I found on the ground on the first day of spring tells a story.

Here, before dawn, people and other beings are on journeys from here to there. Some will reach their destinations intact, some will encounter distractions and sidetracks along the way, some will be forever changed for better or worse, and some will never return.

The journey is the reward, the reward is in the journey, and without the journey there is no reward.

Choose and move on

what if it was all up to you

Emerging from the fog that is The Bug I’ve fought for a week, I see I stand at the edge of a meadow – not a meadow so much for it’s been mowed into submission – a field of grass, then – and with the urge to run, I have so many choices.

I may run directly across the field, run to the left, run to the right, at any angle, or zig and zag, or zig more than zag, or zag more than zig, or turn around and run back through the wilderness whence I came – so many choices that with ease I can fall into inertia, paralyzed by needing to make a choice at all, and the inertia is its own choice, leaving all sitting in frustration.

Choose and move on – choose and move on – whether it was “the” right choice will never be known, but it is the choice you make now.

Own the choice and move on – there’ll be another choice looming on the horizon. Own the choice knowing it is a better choice than wallowing in your doubt.