Grab Bag: Interview Update, Training, Comment Mea Culpa, Work Week, And Gone Hiking

 The team interview on Tuesday went as well as could have been anticipated.  I say that because, like most team interviews, they are asking a series of pre-defined questions.  My answers overall seemed satisfactory, my questions back to them - my standard ones of "Why are you here?" and "What one thing would you change if you could about this place currently?" were well received and had honest responses in turn.  The hiring manager interview has been moved to next Tuesday.  So we prepare and wait a bit longer.

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Training for the product job has commenced.  I started the on-line part last Saturday and have about 50% of it to complete, which will need to be completed next Saturday.  Best news?  I get paid for training. First check for the princely sum of $62.47 (pre-tax) dropped yesterday.

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Earlier this week I had to drop a comment into spam (it was clearly spam).  On a whim, I went to look - and found not only that comment, but comments from my regular commenters there as well that were not designated as spam.  You know, those usual firebrands like Ed, Becki, and STxAR.  It had even helpfully identified a number of my responses as spam.  I have restored them all, including my own - so in the event you thought you commented and it never came up, mea culpa.  I will check the spam box more often now.

Things like this give me pause about the true power of Artificial Intelligence.

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This week was effectively my last almost full week (4 days, more or less) of work.  I am fully off today through next Friday and for the bulk of the following week, pending two half days.  All e-mails are organized and sorted, all remaining responsibilities discharged, Out of Office notification typed up, with the helpful "After 29 May, this e-mail will not be monitored" added.  I have six remaining meetings, 50% which I am interested to attend just as follow up, 33% with individuals that I value for the conversation, and 17% for the remaining required meeting, which is literally the last thing I will do before I push my computer over the side and call it done.

Looking at the work calendar, it is hard to believe that 43 days ago my world was so differently focused.

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The Outdoorsman and I will be off hiking again, leaving today and returning on Sunday (so in advance, apologies for the delay in responses with the excuse of spam).  With the potential change in jobs one way or the other, I have no idea if this will constitute the last training hike before our planned hike in August.  Either way, I full intend to enjoy the experience.  After that, I will need to start doing prep work on clearing the house out to prepare to rent it.  Bittersweet all around.

Life.  Sometimes it is playing the hand you are dealt instead of hoping for a better hand.

On Theme And The Collapse

 I have been a fan of the author Steven Pressfield for many years.  I originally became acquainted with his work through the book Gates of Fire, which is a historical fictional account of the battle of Thermopylae.  It is a well written book - so well that for many years and perhaps even now, it appeared on the Marine Commandant's reading list. It is a compelling retelling, and Pressfield is a compelling story teller.  

It was not his first book - The Legend of Bagger Vance was - but since then he went on to write books in historical fiction, non-fiction, biographical, self-help, and books on writing.  He has also done some screenplays (much earlier in his career).  His website is here.

I have read (and re-read) Gates of Fire and Tides of War (historical fiction of the Peloponnesian War) and highly recommend both. But what I have come to appreciate even more about Pressfield are his books on writing and the creative process. If that sounds familiar, it might be:  I wrote on his book Turning Pro here and have quoted thoughts of his from War of Art here (from 2015; that seems like forever ago).  His books on writing - the ones I have (Do the Work, War of Art, Turning Pro) all have the sort common no-nonsense application and instruction that resonates, at least with me; I am sure the books I do not have (yet) - The Authentic Swing, The Artist's Journey, Put Your A## Where Your Heart Wants To Be - are all the same.  They also all contain a sort of biographical journey of Pressfield as he struggled - and literally, it was a struggled - to become a published author.

That said, there was one that came this week that I was looking forward to:  No-One Wants To Read Your Sh*t:  Why That Is And What You Can Do About It.  I was excited - not just because I read the reviews and they were great, but because this is something that I want to get better at.  Writers want people to read their writing.  And in theory at least, I want to get better at my craft.

The book was as promised, a combination of Pressfield's journey in authorship and as concise a description on the structure of writing and how to communicate as I have ever read (this may be my new best text on writing, outside of Ray Bradbury's Zen And The Art of Writing).  

In short - and relevant to today's topic - Pressfield states without a concept, theme, genre, climax, hero, villain, stakes, jeopardy, and knowing the end,  there is no story.  With these, there is a story - and Pressfield makes the bold statement that using this formula, one can write anything - a novel, a screenplay, a business presentation, a dissertation, or a sad story to your landlord about your rent - or, I suppose, a blog post.

(As an aside, I tried it for my interview prep this week.  Turns out he is 100% correct.)

So, TB, why the rather lengthy prologue about writing on a day when I am here for my serial update on The Collapse?

What a fantastic question (he says, unlimbering his fingers on the keyboard).

When I originally started this series, it was literally a one off short story.  As I looked at the short story, it struck me that this would be an interesting thought exercise:  what would it be like to live through, not a devastating civilizational world ending event, but one where civilization just kind of goes away?  

Although I did not call it that at the time, this is my concept, per Pressfield.  Suddenly the character began to flesh himself out almost without trying.  I knew him, knew where he lived (it is based on the actual cabin I would spend part of my Summer at every year), knew the location, knew some of what he would do - but not everything; he continued to surprise me.  

The genre is, I suppose, post apocalyptic - but that is a pretty big genre, ranging from something simple like a plague (Earth Abides) to nuclear war (Alas, Babylon, A.D. 2150, No Night Without Stars, War Day) to threats from outer space (Lucifer's Hammer, Footfall) to simple straight out governmental collapse (Patriots).  All of these vary in how they handle the writing, perspectives, situation, and details.  

(As a note, I think of all of that list my favorite is Alas, Babylon.)

The hero, of course is obvious (Seneca) as is the jeopardy (Survival).  Of the villain and the climax, I cannot fully say - but perhaps this is always the problem with a serial writing; it is sort of a journey into the unknown without a clear sight of land until one seems to have arrived.  One could say the villain is "Death" and the climax is "re-establishment of a civilized order" but that all smacks of being the slightest bit too cookie cutter for me.  I suppose we will find out together.

This series has not always been the easiest to write - longer time readers may recall that I took almost a two year break, mostly because I had felt I had written myself into a corner (I had not - this is a weak excuse.  I had allowed myself to believe I had written myself into a corner; Seneca handily walked out of it when I gave him the option).  Sometimes the postings come easily, sometimes with great difficulty.

What I have not identified - until now - is theme.

One of the things that have been commented upon about my "version" of a future is that it is not violent enough and gritty enough for an actual collapse.  The other is that sometimes the details or actions presented do not make "sense" in such a world.  To the former, I have suggested that based on Seneca's location - northerly, isolated - violence and grittiness would be unlikely (it is not really there even now).  

To the second - details and actions either not making sense or perhaps even foolish - I can state that, perhaps only now, I realize the theme of my writing.

Civilizational collapse is something that has many aspects, and something of interest to me has always been what that looked like to the individuals who lived through it. The Romans of the 400's and 500's A.D., the Romano-Britons in the 400's A.D., the later Byzantine Empire, even Scotland and Ireland of the 17th and 18th Century - all of these went through a collapse of their civilization. Some of that was economic, some of that was linguistic, some of that was cultural.  All of it was devastating, especially to cultures that were as much oral as they were written.  

When I sit down with Seneca as I do on a weekly basis, what comes to mind is not so much the actual practice of surviving in a collapsing world with details.  What comes to mind are observations and feelings about what he is seeing and enduring, of relationships back to what he has learned and making new connections with old learnings.  Surely in this he is no different from those that endured similar things; it is just that we do not have them written down.  The average Roman citizen of Gaul circa or Romano-British citizen that watched and lived through the "barbarians" rolling through their civilization must have had thoughts and feelings as well, but other than a very few pieces of literature generally written by an elite, educated class, we have very little except buried hordes of treasure and artifacts never returned for by their owners.

Are there fictional works on surviving the Apocalypse?  There are - James Wesley, Rawles' works (Patriots, Survivors, Founders) have all the detail one might need to equip themselves fully.  And if that is what is needed, I strongly suggest books such as those. I might also recommend the fiction of Friend-Of-This-Blog Eaton Rapids Joe.

 Has The Collapse generated some great commentary on what do in the event of such a happening?  It has, and so long as the discussion stays within the rules (and it has), there is no reason that will not occur.

But what is likely not to occur - and what I am not really going to worry about to the point of stressing over it - is creating such a high level of detail about such a situation.  From a practical point of view, it is far more research than I can support now.  From a desirable point of view, it is not really the point of the work.  And from Seneca's point of view, it is not really what he is concerned about.

If you have stuck with me this far, thank you. I try to avoid soliloquizing like this (or, I suppose, defending my writing style), but it was coming to the point that I almost did not want to continue on the subject matter.  If for no other reason than for my own sanity, this helps.

Seneca will undoubtedly be back next week (yes, in case you are wondering, he actually does take up a part of my consciousness.  He keeps showing up, sometimes at the most inconvenient times).

Your Obedient Servant, Toirdhealbheach Beucail

Old English, A Historical Background: Edward The Confessor And Earl Harold Godwinson

 When King Edward ascended the English throne in 1042 A.D, he was in a weak position.  His dynasty, the House of Wessex, had been out of power for the previous 26 years, superseded by Canute and his sons.  He himself came to the English throne having spent most of his life in Normandy among Normans and Norman clergymen; it is more than likely he spoke Norman French more readily that Anglo-Saxon.

Additionally, Edward commanded no inherent base of power in England; he was heavily reliant on the earls of England, Godwin Earl of Wessex among them.  It was Godwin that had brought Edward's name forward as King; it was Godwin who supplied his daughter Edith as Edward's wife.  But Godwin - and all of the earls -were also jealous of their own administrative authority within their fiefdoms; a powerful king did nothing to advance that agenda.

As Edward moved into power, he began to outlaw and dismiss men put in place by Canute and his sons and recruited Normans into his retinue as well as into some higher clergy; this was not surprising as to Edward, these men would have represented trustworthy men to the king - and an alternate power base.

In 1046 A.D. Earl Godwin's eldest son, Swein, was outlawed for kidnapping an Abbess and keeping her for a year.  Swein ended up in Denmark, but returned in 1048 A.D. only to be driven off again.  Earl Godwine continued to pressure the King for the return of his son, even after Swein had killed his own cousin (1048 A.D.).  The continued pressure of Godwin for his son's return, compounded by the appearance of control by Godwin and his sons of a fleet to protect England from German raiders and the fact that Edward's marriage with Edith was proving to be barren, provoked Edward into action.  In 1051 A.D. Godwin and his sons were outlawed, their lands taken from them, and his wife Edith was to be divorced.

Godwin and his sons fled:  Godwin to Bruges, France, Harold and his brothers to Dublin in Viking Ireland.  Both father and sons began recruiting a mercenary army.  They re-invaded in 1051 A.D., first as small piracy raids, then sailing up the Thames through London.  Edward's lack of support was revealed and he was forced to negotiate.  Godwin was restored to power and he and his family to his lands and Edith was restored to her position as queen; some of the more odious Norman bishops fled, eventually back to Normandy, taking with them Godwin's  which had been offered as hostages for their good behavior.  All was as it had been before the outlawing, with one exception: the inability of Edward to enforce his will and the power of Godwin and his sons was apparent.

Godwin did not long outlive this victory and died in 1052 A.D, as his did his eldest son (and bone of contention) Swein.  Harold Godwinson ascended to the title of Earl of Essex - at Edward's decision; Edward and Harald did not have the contentious relationship of Edward and Godwin.  The service of Harold and his family during this time, as far the records show, were what was to be expected between sovereign and earl. 

In the mid-1050's, with the issue of the childless marriage at hand, Edward came up with what was perhaps a novel idea for an heir,  A member of the royal house - an athling - remained alive:  Edward the son of Edmund Ironsides.  He had been exiled when Hardecanute had become king and had - at least to England - been lost to knowledge. It now appeared that he as located in the Kingdom of Hungary. In 1056, a retinue - seemingly including Harold Godwinson - was sent to Hungary to retrieve the future king.  It was a task that would have required great diplomatic skill as the party had to make its way across the Channel to the Holy Roman Empire, then to Hungary, then back to England.  This, the party accomplished - all to have Edward die in 1057 A.D. shortly after his arrival.

By 1062 A.D. the power of the Godwinsons' was at its height;  they controlled five of the six earldoms of England. Harold led an invasion of Wales in 1062 which successfully ended in the head of Gruffydd King of all Wales being delivered to Harold, who sent it on to King Edward.  Harold demonstrated tactical ingenuity, using a fleet to invade Wales and then drive the Welsh into the mountains, denying them the countryside (a strategy to be used successful by Edward I in his conquest of Wales).

In 1064 A.D, for reasons which now remain unclear, Earl Harold sailed to Normandy. It is unclear why he sailed to Normandy; history is largely silent and Norman sources (given following events) are highly unreliable.  It is possible the trip was simply a rescue mission to plead for his brother and cousin; it is possible he was just "blown off course".  No matter what happened, he was captured and transferred to William, Duke of Normandy.  The Duke feted Harald; they undertook a campaign together in Brittany.  Upon their return, William revealed that he wished for Harald to support his claim as King of England upon the death of Edward the Confessor.

Where could William, a man only distantly related to Edward, get such an idea?  Historians guess that one of the fleeing bishops in 1051, Robert of Jumieges, came to the King with a story of Edward's wish to make him his heir. Whether this was real or just a story spread by a bitter man who had to flee the country, William chose this opportunity to use it to his advantage.

Harold, faced with the choice of imprisonment and possible death, swore the oath in a cathedral on holy relics, an oath that was considered binding in Medieval European and Catholic eyes.  Possibly he was offered to retain his position as Earl of Wessex and marry William's daughter; he was given gifts and his nephew Hakon and released to England, burdened with an oath.

Harold returned to England, now clearly understanding that William of Normandy intended to claim the throne of England.

The last two years of Edward's reign  became complicated.  Northumbria in 1065 A.D. rose in revolt against Tosti, Earl of Northumbria and Harald's brother, due to a tax increase.  The rebels rose up, ravaging their way South until they were met by Earl Harold.  A civil war seemed possible, King Edward and Queen Edith and Earl Tosti against the thegns and men of Northumbria.  Harold came down in his negotiations on the side of the rebels and against his brother; Tosti fled to Flanders and the old laws under King Canute were restored.

But time was running out for King Edward.  His health began to fail in late 1065 and it appeared likely that he did not have much longer.  Edward Athling's son Edgar was alive, but too young to become king. As the Christmas court came into being, the King, the Queen, the bishops and archbishops, and the great nobles of the realm were present.  If Edgar was too young to be king and William was undesirable, only two other potential claimants remained.  One was with them in court and there is no doubt that Harald Godwinson lobbied all heavily on his own behalf.

On 05 January 1066 A.D., Edward the Confessor died.  As he lay dying, he transferred the kingship to Harald Godwinson.

(Author's note:  I would not have been able to provide near the detail about Earl Godwin, Earl Harold, and the Godwin sons without Ian Walker's book Harold:  The Last Anglo-Saxon King.  It focuses on this period and these people in a way other works I consulted did not.)

(Old English Posting Page)

Works cited:

Brooke, Christopher:  From Alfred to Henry III 871-1272.  Norton Library:  USA,  1961.

Hollister, C. Warren:  The Making of England 55 B.C. to 1399.  D.C. Heath and Company:  United States,  1976.

Trevelyan, G.M.:  History of England Volume 1:  From the Earliest Times to the Reformation.  Anchor Books:  USA, 1953

Walker, Ian:  Harold:  The Last Anglo-Saxon King.  The History Press;  Glouster, United Kingdom, 1997

Hammerfall 2.0: Interviews

 As you are reading this, I am either preparing, participating in, or dissecting the first of two job interviews this week.

The thought of interviewing itself is a bit daunting, not from the fact I have not done it before (I have), but the fact that I have not done in some seven years.  I suspect it is similar to dating after a long relationship breakup or the death of a spouse:  Like riding a bicycle, it is a skill that is buried somewhere deep within the subconscious.  Unlike riding a bicycle, the mores and unspoken rules have likely changed and you need to somehow understand what those changes are without appearing awkward or unknowledgeable. 

I have done my research (this is one of the things Linked Out can be good for) and know all of their backgrounds and job experiences.  My very rudimentary read is that they are all quite smart - and all much younger than I am with not nearly as much industry experience.  That matters, both for what their questions will be and what their expectations of the position will be. 

I am also fortunate in my research that I know something of what would have been my predecessor in the role and the situation that lead to them seeking a new Quality person. And, I know (thanks to the HR interview) what the plans for the company are over the next 1.5 years and some of their key expectations.

This is more information than I have had about upcoming interviews in years.

I am trying to prepare for this one far differently than I have in the past.  Partially, of course, it is because (simply) I need a job.  Partially it is because I am trying a different technique.  And partially, it is because I am trying to think about what happens after this.

The actual preparation is easy enough: Make a list of questions that are likely to be asked.  Walk through the answers.  Review the regulations (and stay awake; 21 CFR is never invigorating reading).  Have a "plan" for how I would address the 30/60/90/120/180/270/360 day milestones.  How I "measure" success.  How I would actually address some of their expectations (in a way that manages those expectations while stating what will and will not work).

I have done some of this.  I need to do more.  

The third item, though, is the one that I need to plan more for.

In point of fact, this job will not last forever either - and I hope it does not frankly; I would like to be on to other things at some point.  But I need to find a way to do this job and use this job to launch us into the next phase of life.  That involves planning as well - not only financial planning but planning of time and activities (drawing work boundaries is also part of this).  

Assume success, plan for failure - and always, always, do your best.  Ultimately that is all I can do.

(As a side note, there have been no other interviews put in place for any other position.  One or two initial phone screens, and a fair amount of e-mails saying "Thanks for applying, but...".  Of the 35 positions I have applied to thus far, I have a 45% definitive rejection rate (e.g., told no or the position reposted) and a conversion rate of 2.86% (the part time grocery store job). Also, it appears relocation packages are a thing of the past. At best, hiring bonuses may be offered as substitute.  Based on that, I have confined my search to local and remote positions only.)

On A College Graduation

 This weekend Nighean Bhan graduated from college - not the actual completion of the degree mind you, that happened in December of last year.  This was the "walking" portion of the process, where the graduate goes through and gets the public recognition for their accomplishment.

I was a little hesitant about going - this is by far the largest event I have attended in over three years and the first college graduation since 2019.  Overall it was fine - long (over three hours) and what I would consider any sort of non-related social constructs and thoughts kept to a bare minimum.  The keynote speaker's address was short, amusing, and the sort of thing one can just as easily get online in a 15 minute inspirational living value.  Other than the press of people making their way out (which set off every panic button that I possess), it was an endurable experience.

The thing that made me really think was not the ceremony, but rather the graduates.

This was an undergraduate only event, and yet there were likely 1100 individuals at this event to graduate, scattered among four or five different departments within the larger college.  I am sure there was the usual mix of students here:  the overachievers, the very devoted, the "doing it for my family", the lower achievers that met the minimum requirements, and those that staff breathed a sigh of relief as they crossed the platform (there are always a few).  All now armed with immaculate diplomas to be mounted in frames on walls or stuffed in closets to be forgotten.

Whither will the graduates go?

I do not ask this question to detract from the accomplishment - completing a college program is a big deal and a life investment of time and resources (having been through two degrees, I know as well as any).  I do ask it based on the world we live in today.

Colleges over the next month or so will be releasing college students into the economic ecosystem.  In 2020 (The most recent year I found) a little over 2,000,000 undergraduates took a degree.  Assuming that includes B.S., B.A, and A.A. that is still a lot of (mostly) young people flooding out into the world.  Some will continue on of course to graduate school (Nighean Bhan is one), but others will be moving directly into the world of work.

What world will they wander into?

One of the great complaints about the U.S. college system is that it is disconnected from the actual needs of the economy.  We pump out all kinds of degreed individuals:  English, Psychology, Science, Math, Communication, Journalism, Political Science (Those losers - I was one of them).  They arrive, some of them knowing precisely what they are going to do, others (like me) having no idea what they are going to do.

But the world is different - different than when I graduated, even different within the last ten years.  

When I graduated the global economy was just taking root; now one completes (literally) with the entire world.  Robotics had begun to automate many tasks considered "drudgery"; we are now in the very early stages of Artificial Intelligence automating many tasks considered "skilled" and "educated".   I have already considered the fact that within 10 years, likely Artificial Intelligence can do 90% of what I performed as a project manager:  create and track timelines, follow up with emails, track spending, assign invoices. Practically speaking, $1.00 when I graduated with my BA is now $0.42 - not a great trend when prices are only continuing up, not down.

I am sure they are educational as prepared as a large prestigious university can make them. But are they prepared for the world as it is today, not even the world as it was when they started college?

If anything, life teaches us that we need to play it as it lies.  Seldom (if ever) are we offered the opportunity to pick our ball up and move it on the playing field.  Sometimes, the "lay" works in our favor; other times it does not.  Either way, we have to take the next swing.

I wonder - in that sea of individuals literally bursting forth upon the world - how many truly grasp that fact.

 

The Return Of The Prodigal Son: The Prodigal Son Leaves

(Source)

The tale of the eponymous character of the parable of the Prodigal Son - the Prodigal Son - is so well known that it exists not only in Christian circles, but has been undoubtedly reworked into more than one feel-good Holiday Christmas movies:  A younger son gets tired of life at home on the farm, takes his share of the estate by making his still-living father divide it, leaves and goes out to live the "good life", runs out of money and takes a job which is beneath him.  Starving and poor, he realizes that things were better back home and decides to return home.

Nouwen quotes an author who spent years in traditional cultures of the Second and Third World what the implications would be of a son asking his father for his share of the estate while his father was still living.  The response are almost universal:  No-one would ask such a question, for to ask it would be for the son to wish the father to die.  And leaving home then becomes a double rejection, not just of his family but of his home and the values that it represents:  "Leaving home is, then, much more than a historical event bound to time and place.  It is a denial of the spiritual reality that I belong to God with every part of my being, that God holds me safe in an internal embrace, that I am indeed carved in the palms of God's hands and hidden in the shadows....Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home and must look far and wide for one."  Leaving home - the home of God's presence, of God's voice - is a rejection of God himself, even as God continues to speak his words of love to us:  "Jesus has made it clear to me that the same voice that he heard at the River Jordan and on Mount Tabor can also be heard by me....These words reveal my true dwelling place, my true abode, my true home."

And yet we go: 

"Yet over and over again I have left home.  I have fled the hands of blessing and run off to faraway places to search for love!  This is the great tragedy of my life and the lives of so many I meet on my journey.  Somehow I have become deaf to the voice that calls me Beloved, have left the only place where I can hear that voice, and have gone off desperately hoping that I would find somewhere else what I could no longer find at home." 

We leave, suggests Nouwen, because "...I realize that the true voice of love is a very soft and gentle voice speaking to me in the most hidden places of my being...It is a voice that can only be heard by those who allow themselves to be touched."

The world is fully of voices, says Nouwen, voices that say "Go out and prove that you are worth something".  Christians my recognized that voice in the testing of Christ in the Wilderness, where three times the Devil tempted Him to perform a miracle or worship Satan.  Christ was able to resist, but not so much us:  "I leave home every time I lose faith in the voice that calls me the Beloved and follow the voices that offer a great variety of ways to win the love I so much desire."

How do we know when we have left home and have entered that distant country?  "Anger, resentment, jealousy, desire for revenge, lust, greed, antagonisms, and rivalries are obvious signs that I have left home.  And that happens quite easily".  Easily for himself, says Nouwen; even more easily for me.

The core question we ask, says Nouwen, is whom do we belong to:  God or the World? "All the time and energy I spend in keeping some kind of balance and preventing myself from being tipped over and drowning shows my life is mostly a struggle; not a holy struggle, but an anxious struggle resulting in the mistaken idea that it is the world that defines me."

Nouwen argues that we are frenetic in our lives and actions because at all times we continue to ask the world "Do you love me?  Do you love me?"  The world is filled with conditional love: "if" you do this, then the world will love us, although too often we do not realize that:  "The world's love is and always will be conditional."

We become addicted to the world:

"Addiction might be the best word to explain the lostness that so deeply permeates contemporary society (Ed. note:  This book was published in 1992).  Our addictions make us cling to what the world proclaims as the keys to self-fulfillment:  accumulation of wealth and power; attainment of status and admiration; lavish consumption of food and drink; and sexual gratification without distinguishing between love and lust...The addicted life can be aptly designated a life lived in "a distant country."

"I", states Nouwen, "am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found....I am constantly surprised at how I keep taking the gifts God has given me - my health, my intellectual and emotional gifts - and keep using them to impress people, receive affirmation and praise, and compete for rewards, instead of developing them for the glory of God."  The Prodigal Son is merely replaying the Original sin and Adam and Eve's definitive rejection of God's love and provision:  like them, he has chosen to seek in foreign lands the love and fulfillment he seeks on his terms, casting aside the offer of God.

To Nouwen's mind, the painting "The Return of The Prodigal Son" has the message of salvation embedded in it:  the son, have left his father's provision and taken his money and lived his life to the fullest, found himself bound the conditional love the world, the "ifs" that said with the money, he was loved.  Likewise, how often have I left my Father's provision, taken the good things He has given me and gone to a distant country where there is love and acceptance so long as I continue to spend God's provision on myself.  

The problem, of course, is that it always runs out.  Eventually the conditional "ifs" will become the definitive "no":  we will no longer measures up to what the world requires for its love and so, seemingly suddenly, we find ourselves alone in that distant country, bereft of all that we had taken out with us and bereft of the "Love" that we thought we had. 

God loves us too much to make us stay.  Nouwen suggests - and I have never heard this thought expressed before - that God even loved His Son so much that He could not keep Him in Heaven but watched as He came to earth, never withdraw His blessing or His love from His Son.   God knew what it would cost Christ even as Christ knew what it would cost Himself - but God never said "Stay here".

Instead He stood with open arms, waiting for His Son to come home - and not just alone, but bringing with Him all who had believed in Him.  The same Father stands there still, arms wide open, waiting for us as well to come to our senses in whatever distant country we find ourselves.  It is perhaps only when we have come to the end of our rope (because we are so often so foolish) that we are in a position to hear that still, small voice reminding us of The Father's love for us.

All that we seek, He says, is where we left from.  We need only come home.

A Sort Of Hammerfalll and Looking Back

 Longer time readers of this blog may recall that in 2020 I went through what I called "A Sort of Hammerfall", the result of which was a change in my career path from my then-role in Quality Assurance to my current (and now perhaps, passing) role in Project Management.  The core of that change was the review from that year, in which it was noted I had "troubling flaws".

That was the single worst review I have ever received in my life for any job. And it has haunted me to this day.

A large part of the haunting - and frankly, my reluctance to reconsider Quality positions - is the fact that at some point I would have to explain the complete change in careers and why (likely) I would be seeking a lesser position.  Or more pithily put, why I essentially got dismissed from a senior management position.

This all suddenly has relevance as the initial screen I had this past week has turned into a hiring manager and panel interview next week. I have done my research and the individuals I will be speaking with appear to be educated and intelligent people (and thanks again for the continued prayers and well wishes.  If I could continue to ask for them, I would be ever so grateful.).  So I presume some form of the question will come up.

The reality is that I have never really dealt with that review.

If you recall, my response at the time was to simply agree with my then boss, as much due to my dislike of confrontation as well as the knowledge that arguing a fait accompli is 93% of the time a complete waste of effort in that the decision is usually already made and the chances of changing it are zero.  One thing that did ensure, however, is that I never had to actually respond to the observations.

Last Sunday during my visit to a different church, the point of the sermon was that as Christ did not look back after the resurrection, so we too are not to look back.  Admittedly the Resurrection of the Son of God and my review from three years ago are on slightly different planes of importance, but the point remains the same: as any number of memes with heroic pictures will tell you, do not look back as you are not headed that way.

Over two years after that review, I created a document with just the observations - my failings - written down. This was the first time I could bring myself to even look at the document, as it is not just looking at the document: it is recalling all the feelings surrounding it and going into the meeting assuming I was to be fired and then reading that, at least in the eyes of the reviewer, I had completely failed in my job.  But I kept it instead of just dumping it - for all of everything it represented and it how it made me feel, there are parts that are true that I needed to address.

This week I finally responded to the observations.

The observations were not long or particularly well thought out. In some cases they were literally "This was not true".  In others, they were "notifications were sent" or "resources were not made available as noted".  In some, they were "agreed, and this is how my current role has addressed that".

It was not great writing, and certainly not the quality of material I try to purvey here.  Even in this exercise, it is still hard to read those words.  But at least I got something down on paper.

And, almost instantly, felt better.

This exercise does not fix a lot of things.  It does not change the events or the last three years.  I will still have to answer questions, walking an honest line between what happened and my interpretation of what happened.  And if even I disagree with a lot of what was written, I need - for my own intellectual honesty if nothing else - to be able to check each and every one of those off the "flaws I need to correct" list.

But confronting something, even after all these years, is a great place to start moving forward.

On De Consolatione Ad Marciam And Outcomes

De Consolatione Ad Marciam (To Marcia on Consolation) in Lucius Annaeus Seneca's Moral Essays (Loeb Classical Library Volume 254) was written by Seneca to Marcia (Cremutius) Cordas, a friend of the Emperor Augustus's wife Livia.  The occasion of the consolation is the death of her son Metilius, who passed away three years prior to the writing of it.  In it, he reminds Marcia of the fact that death is endemic to all men and can actually represent a release both from potential sins as well as from actual suffering.

Today's thought exercise, though, is taken from a section dealing not so much with the consolation as with the historical examples of living long enough to see: 

"Think how great a boon a timely death offers, how many have been harmed by living too long?  If Gnaeus Pompeius (Ed:  Pompey the Great), that glory and stay of the realm, had been carried off by his illness at Naples, he would have departed the unchallenged head of the Roman people.  But as it was, a very brief extension of time cast him down from his pinnacle.  He saw his legions slaughtered before his eyes, and from that battle where the first line was the senate, he saw - what a melancholy remnant! - the commander himself left alive!  He saw an Egyptian his executioner, and yielded to a slave a body that was sacrosanct to the victors, though even if he had been unharmed, he would have repented of his escape; for what were baser than that a Pompey should live by the bounty of a king!

If Marcus Cicero had fallen at the moment when he escaped the daggers of Catiline, which were aimed not less at him that at his country, if he had fallen as the saviour of the commonwealth which he had freed, if his death had followed close upon that of his daughter, even then he might have died happy.  He would not have seen swords drawn to take the lives of Roman citizens, nor assassins parceling out the goods of their victims in order that these might even be murdered at their own cost, nor the spoils of a consul put up at public auction, nor murders contracted for officially, nor brigandage and war and pillage - so many new Catilines!

If the sea had swallowed up Marcus Cato as he was returning from Cyprus and his stewardship of the royal legacy, and along with him even the money which he was bringing to defray the expense of the Civil War, would it not have been a blessing to him?  This much at least he might have taken with him then - the conviction that no one would have had the effrontery to do wrong in the presence of a Cato!  As it was, having gained the respite of a very few years, that hero, who was born no less for personal than for political freedom, was forced to flee from Caesar and submit to Pompey.

...All things human are short-lived and perishable, and fill no part at all of infinite time."

Seneca point to Marcia was that his early death spared him from suffering unimagined ills that were yet to come.  My meditation today is on a tangent to this point:  living long enough to see the consequences of our actions extend to their logical conclusion.

For many of us - most of us? - we take a multitude of actions every day.  Some of these are of no import at all, but some of them can have drastic impacts on ourselves, our loved ones, and even the society around us.  Some decision are consciously made for this very reason - that somehow we are going to make our family/home/geographical entity a better place.

We make these decisions and blithely assume that everything will work out for the best.

Sometimes, of course, we luck out and the decision goes moderately well.  Other times - well, other times we get removed from the situation or (worst case) die before we see the outcome.

Other times though, we get to live through it.

That is the tangential point of Seneca:  Pompey lived long enough to the Civil War go against him (does anyone think at the start of a war they will not win?), Cicero saw the end of the Republic that he had tried to save by executing one man only to let loose the larger scourge of Civil War, Cato lived to see how his inflexible Stoic and political beliefs contributed to the destruction of the Republic that he spent his life serving.

One can argue it is part of the human condition:  we are shorted sighted and can barely look five years out, let alone 50 or 100.  For example, 100 years ago most of the US was still rurally based, electricity was just becoming a thing, and Soviet Communism was still "a pretty good idea based on the previous inequalities and backwardness of the Tsarist regime".  

That last point, of course, looks quite different from our vantage point now.

I write this for two reasons.  One, of course, is simply to remind myself that nothing is permanent.  The fact that history (personal and "big picture"), while not predicting outcomes of things, can often guide us in how they are likely to work out in the long run is something to take wisdom from and refuge in.  Many of the things I find in my own personal life as well as the larger world, seemingly giant, can suddenly change.

The other is for those involved in making the sorts of decisions that they believe will change themselves, their situations, or the world without accounting for the long term impacts.   It is not only that the course you chart is the course you end up with - unlike travel, the actual world is far more messy and influenced by many factors beyond your control.  The other point is that often you live just long enough to see the final outcome of your changes - and sometimes, to be consumed by them.

One wonders if, looking back, Pompey, Cicero, Cato, and even Seneca himself would have chosen differently.

The Collapse CI: Planting

 17 May 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius:

Today was gardening planting day.

To be fair, this is about 1.5 weeks ahead of typical planting season, but given the weather and the need, it is a risk that most seem to be willing to take this year.

And oh, how we planted. Not one, but two gardens this year, my own and then the garden of Pompeia Paulina. More hands make light work of course, and with four of us planting – myself, Pompeia Paulina, Stateira, and Young Xerxes, things moved a great deal quicker than in years past when I was just planting my own garden.

We pretty much planted everything: pole beans, beets, broccoli, brussel spouts, cabbage, carrots, corn, cucumbers, lettuce, onions, peas, peppers (bell and jalapeno), potatoes, spinach, squash, and tomatoes. This is a lot more than I would planted in a typical season and frankly, these were not all my seeds – some made their way from Pompeia Paulina and Stateira’s and some “magically” appeared from Xerxes. We planted the same at Pompeia Paulina and Stateira’s with some additions: kale and cauliflower, neither of which I truly like (but, I suppose, beggars cannot be choosers).

The bees continue to do well also – the weather continues to warm up sufficiently that they are making regular flights out of the hive at this point. The potentially broody quail is still barricaded away in the back of the greenhouse, but it is either this week – or nothing.

For dinner this evening I pulled out my barbecue and some of that precious charcoal. Young Xerxes brought steaks and Pompeia Paulina brought a vegetable salad and, wonder of wonders, a bottle of Old Vine Zinfandel that apparently had been saved for a special occasion. We had a meal outside in the fading sun, almost like something out of the “old days” as if the past year had not happened at all. More shortbread and after dinner coffee may or may not have also appeared.

It is odd how these moments creep up on me Lucilius: even now I can put the reality of the world on hold and find in small ways that life has a continuity to it that transcends the situation. I am sure that this is due less to events than to my perception of the situation: we have dinner as we would have a year ago, and somehow my mind carefully overlooks that there is no power and no fuel and our world has largely shrunk to what can be walked to in a day. I plant a garden as I would have last year, and my mind overlooks the fact that without this year’s crop, there may very well not be a next year.

But to dissect the situation is to somehow mar it. And, the wine and the company were delightful. Even in the darkest of circumstances Lucilius, we can still find small pleasures.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca

Old English, A Historical Background: Normandy, Edward The Confessor, And The Earls of Essex

 To move forward in the history of Anglo-Saxon England, we have to move backwards a bit in time and a little South and East in geography.  To Normandy.

Normandy, as you might vaguely recall from your history, was a territory that belonged to the Frankish Empire and was settled by Vikings under Rollo (The viking, not Rolo the caramel filled candy).  The actual story, of course, is a bit more complicated.

(Source)

Rollo (Old Norse Hrolfer) was the leader of a group Vikings that raided not to the West and Britain but to the South the Kingdom of West Francia.  He is associated with a raid on Paris in 885 A.D. and remained apparently successfully there, having secured territory (with other Viking settlers) in the areas of the lower Seine Valley in what is now France.  In 911 A.D the King of West Francia, Charles III ("Charles the Simple") signed a treaty with Rollo, granting him the lands of the old church boundaries of Rouen in return for fealty to the Frankish King (on Charles' part, quite possibly trying to end the raids by effectively buying Rollo out).  The new territory was called Normandy from origins of the now settled peoples (Northmen).

Rollo and his now ex-Vikings were successful in their new province:  by 922 A.D. they had achieved supremacy over the other Viking settlements in the Seine valley.  Rouen, the capital, became a trading port for Scandinavia and the Viking territories, including the Danish parts of England.  The Old Norse they spoke was largely abandoned in favor of the Gallo-Roman French of its inhabitants (but with the addition of Old Norse words not otherwise present).  By 996 A.D. Normandy was French speaking, Catholic, and busily working on expanding its territory.  It also, as you may recall, continued to be associated with Viking raids in England, resulting in a treaty between Normandy and England in 991 A.D.

Familial links between the two geographies came as well.  In 1002 Æthelred Unræd King of England married the Duke of Nomandy's daughter Emma.  They had two sons, Edward (The Confessor), and Alfred.  Upon Swein Forkbeard's conquest of England in 1013, Emma and her two sons fled back to Normandy.  Edward and possible Alfred returned upon Æthelred's restoration in 1016, but then fled again upon the death of Æthelred and his son Edmund Ironsides.  Emma, as you may recall, then married King Canute and bore him Hardecanute (and a daughter, Gunhilda).  

Edward remained in exile in Normandy throughout the reign of Canute, Harald Harefoot, and Harecanute.  He and his brother attempted a return in 1036; his brother Alfred was captured by Earl Godwine of Essex and blinded, resulting directly (or indirectly) in his death.  Edward returned back to Normandy, seemingly consigned to a life of waiting.

Meanwhile, in England...

In 1009 A.D. Wulfnoth cild, a thegn of Essex, was exiled by Æthelred Unræd.  Wulfnoth had a son, Godwine, who stayed in England to try and rebuild the family's fortunes.  In this he was successful, regaining the lands of his father and expanding them.  He supported Æthelred's son Edmund Ironsides and, somehow, upon the accession of Canute in 1016 as King of England, became one of the few Anglo-Saxons to not be purged by King Canute.  In fact, he was raised to the status of an earl.  In the earl 1020's he was raised to Earl of Wessex and married Gytha, King Canute's sister in law.  He served Canute loyally during his reign and in 1035 A.D. declared Hardecanute against those that declared for Harald Harefoot. It is possible that Godwine's capture and blinding of Alfred was to gain the favor Harald Harefoot (which, apparently, it did).  When Harald died in 1040 A.D. and Hardecanute came back to power, Godwine managed to survive the power transfer (again).

In 1041 A.D. Hardecanute invited Edward back to the kingdom, possibly to share the rule and perhaps bolster his popularity with the Anglo-Saxon community.  Before this could be truly put into place Hardecanute died.  It is said that Godwine, Earl of Wessex, led the call for Edward to ascend to throne and thus, in 1042 A.D., Edward Æthelred's son, exile, became King of England.

Undoubtedly at the accession of King Edward, his children were present, among them his second son who was around 20 years old at the time.  His given name was Harold; history would know him as Harold Godwinson, the last Anglo-Saxon King of England

(Old English Posting Page)

Works cited:

Brooke, Christopher:  From Alfred to Henry III 871-1272.  Norton Library:  USA,  1961.

Hollister, C. Warren:  The Making of England 55 B.C. to 1399.  D.C. Heath and Company:  United States,  1976.

Nictolle, David:  The Normans.  Osprey Publishing:  Hong Kong, 1987.

Trevelyan, G.M.:  History of England Volume 1:  From the Earliest Times to the Reformation.  Anchor Books:  USA, 1953

Walker, Ian:  Harold:  The Last Anglo-Saxon King.  The History Press;  Glouster, United Kingdom, 1997

Wikipedia:   Edward the Confessor, Normandy, Rollo

Hammerfall 2.0: An Interview

 Yesterday, thanks to your prayers and good thoughts, I had an interview.

The interview (now to me, not surprisingly), in my old "field" of Quality Assurance.  It is a position which would not require us to relocate.  It is a position is a position with the standard sort of benefits that I would expect from a company of its size (smaller, relative start up). 

As it turns out, a coworker knows many of the people that work there, so I think their reaching out directly accelerated my process - I went from submitting my CV on Thursday to the initial interview yesterday and a follow on activity later today.

The salary is commensurate with what I had identified in the initial application, which made me feel pretty good about estimating my value.

The process - if today goes well - is a series of interviews over the next month or so, culminating in a on-site interview and presentation (I have never done an on-site presentation as part of the job interview process, so that will be new).  

They are, apparently, even willing to work with the fact that I will not have availability until the early part of July.

Do I intend to keep my part time Grocery Store Job?  Absolutely.  One thing this whole thing has reminded me of is the fact that I have become way too complacent about relying on my "job" - to be fair, even if this all goes well, I could still lose my position in a heartbeat.  Better to have something, even small to start off with now, to fall back on instead of finding myself back looking for something.  The worst case is I have something to support my hobbies.

How do I feel about "going back" to Quality Assurance?  A touch ambivalent of course - there is a lot of stress that comes with it that is I do not miss.  Still, it sounds like they have an aggressive plan and either there will be success in 1-2 years, or failure in 1-2 years.  I can live with that timeline - worst case, I need a job to last 4-6 years at this point.

In a nutshell?  Good news, better than I could have hoped for.  Prayers and happy thoughts continue to be requested.

On Attending A Different Church Service

 Yesterday, I attended a different church service.

I am a creature of habit, so the concept of doing anything out of the ordinary is both a stretch as well as slightly terrifying for me.  It is not that I mind the situation themselves so much - I have hurled objects not far distances in front of crowds and fallen out of an airplane and puffed my way up a mountain.  No, it is not the situation - it is the people.  Every time I do anything like this I am desperately concerned that I may actually have to engage someone in conversation.

For an introvert - a hard introvert, so far to the Introvert side of the scale I am almost falling off the capital "I" - this is almost, but not quite, akin to death.

Still, it was something that has been on my mind for some months now.  As I have been fairly open about here, the current church we are attending leaves me....bleh.  Not completely driven away, but not completely engaged as I should be.  So the need has certainly been there.

But church visiting?  The last time we changed churches was in the seven to ten year range.  It is has been a while.  And I am not the kind of person that cares to engage in "church shopping".  If I go somewhere else, it is because I have given some thought that it a church or denomination that I would likely pursue membership with.

And so, suddenly yesterday, the opportunity presented itself.

You cannot imagine the arguments I had with myself, first talking myself into and then out of attending.  "I will go....No, I should probably just stay home...No, get ready we are going".  I actually sat and timed the drive (it is less than 5 minutes from my house) such that the service was likely to begin just as I showed up (to avoid the need to speak to anyone).  I timed it just perfectly:  they were rolling out of the pre-service to the main service.  I slipped in to sit in the very last row.

The service itself was different - but beautiful.  It touched me in a way that I have not been touched in a service for years - I was not particularly surprised by this fact, but it did confirm that in fact what I was feeling about where we are now may be a real thing, not just my imagine.

The sermon confirmed it.

The sermon, in this case, was on the women going to the tomb to administer spices on the 3rd Day after Christ's crucifixion.  The point of the sermon - in short - was that the women went there thinking that it would be a continuation of the life as they had known it, except without Jesus.  They were wrong:  life changed for them (and the world) completely on that day.  From that day forward they were living in a new world, not looking back at an old one.  Christ was risen - but risen in a new body, not in the old one.  Everything, the pastor said, was looking forward.  There was no looking back to the ways things had been.

Looking forward instead of back.  Sort of sounded like something I have been dealing with lately.

So perhaps there were, in fact, two reasons I was reluctant to go.  The first was my usual introverted nature and my somewhat over-love of that which is known.  The other, it seems, had a slightly more theological  basis.  Someone knew that was a message I needed to hear, and overcame my inherent reluctance to get me there.

The Return Of The Prodigal Son: Introduction

It all started with a poster.

Henri Nouwen, Dutch Catholic priest and lecturer at Ivy League universities, was sitting in an office with a colleague having a discussion in 1983.  His attention focused on a poster pinned on the door - he confesses he could not take his eyes off it.  He asked his colleague what the painting was.  "The Return of the Prodigal Son by Rembrandt" they replied.  

(Source)

 Nouwen described his heart as "leaping" when he saw the painting - he had just come off an exhausting lecture tour and was deeply looking into his own life and future directions.  The painting spoke to him in ways that he did not fully comprehend:  "I could not take my eyes away.  I felt drawn by fhe intimacy between the two figures, the warm red of the man's cloak, the golden yellow of the boy's tunic, and the mysterious light engulfing them both.  But, most of all, it was the hands - the old man's hands - as they touched the boy's shoulders that reached me in a place I had never been reached before."

As luck would have it, two friends were traveling to the then-Soviet Union at that time which would include a trip to Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) in which the Hermitage Museum was located, where the original painting was - would be interested in going? Of course, Nouwen said, and so soon after he found himself with an unexpected once in a lifetime opportunity to view the painting (and it is huge:  8’ x 6')- not just as a tourist walking through, but behind the velvet rope in a chair, where he could sit and look at the painting for hours and see how perspective changed with the daylight:

"The painting was exposed in the most favorable way, on a wall that received plenty of natural light through a large window at an eighty-degree angle.  Sitting there, I realized that the light became fuller and more intense as the afternoon progressed.  At four o'clock the sun covered the painting with a new brightness, and the background figures - which had remained quite vague in the early hours - seemed to step out of their dark corners.  As the evening drew near, the sunlight grew more crisp and tingling.  The embrace of the father and son became stronger and deeper, and the bystanders participated more directly in this mysterious event of reconciliation., forgiveness, and inner healing.  Gradually I realized that there were as many paintings of the Prodigal Son as there were changes in the light, and, for a long time, I was held spellbound by this gracious dance of nature and art."

Returning from this trip and having decided that he would spend the rest of his life at L'Arche, a community for the developmentally disabled in Toronto, Canada, Nouwen bought a copy of the painting and hung it up.  It became something he looked at and thought about often as he began a process of re-examining his life and calling, and became something that he spoke of often: "The more I spoke of the Prodigal Son, the more I came to see it as, somehow, my personal painting, the painting that contained not only the heart of the story that God wants to tell me, but also the heart of the story that I want to tell to God and God's people.  All of the Gospel is there.  All of my life is there.  All of the lives of my friends are there. The painting has become a mysterious window through which I can step into the Kingdom of God".

As Nouwen continued to think, pray, meditate, and write on the painting he started out where most of us do, of course, seeing himself as the younger son who, after a life of dissolute living, returns to the father for forgiveness and healing.  But then a friend suggested to him one day "I wonder if you are not more like the elder son".  This opened up new vistas internally for him, as he looked at how he had been "a dutiful son" and had yet become hardened and resentful.  But after that revelation came a third , again presented by a friend: "Whether you are the younger son or the elder son, you have to realize that you are called to become the father."

In all my years of hearing sermons on this (and I have heard many), this was new perspective.

From Nouwen:

"Sue did not give me the change to protest: "You have been looking for friends all your life; you have been craving for affection for as long as I have known you; you have been interested in thousands of things; you have been begging for attention, appreciation, and affirmation left and right.  The time has come to claim your true vocation - to be a father who can welcome his children home without asking them any questions and without wanting anything from them in return.  Look at the father in your painting and you will know who you are called to be.  We, at Daybreak (the community he serves in Toronto), and most people around you don't need you to be a good friend or even a kind brother.  We need you to be a father who can claim for himself the authority of true compassion."

For Nouwen, a chance meeting with the print and a painting had become a window into not only the needs he knew and did not know for repentance, but a window into his true calling.

Hammerfall 2.0: Hard Stops And New Parachutes

 It is still too early to make an accurate assessment (perhaps) on my job search, although it does feel like a few trends are beginning to manifest themselves.  One is that my career in Project Management may have been a short one - yes, it is too early to formally gain an assessment in that, but those roles seem to be the ones I have most quickly heard refusals from (or nothing at all).  As the bulk of my applications to date have been for this sort of role, the apparent lack of silence is interesting.  Or as a friend noted, Project Manager is a pretty generic title and likely a lot of people are out there.  

---

This week the thought struck me as I was in a dead zone of "looking for positions but nothing coming up" that in a relatively short period of time (really July as due to sundry reasons we are out a great deal of June), my days are going to look completely different.  Yes, I will in some fashion be filling them with part time work, but that still leaves a lot of day.

And so the though occurred to me:  what I did something radically different?  What if I changed my life?

Realistically, continuing to look for a job will consume a very small portion of my day.  So what if, instead of doubling down on skills (real or imagined) for this career, I looked to fill them with other things?

What would that look like?  I am not really sure as of this writing.  Some readily at hand things that come to mind:  a deep reorganization of the items I own (long overdue), more Iai practice, areas of study I have not not had the time to engage in as I might like, writing (of course)...the list is not infinite, but there are a lot of possibilities (that frankly, given what I have here in terms of resources, would cost me nothing but time).

The meaningful question to me is "Why am I not considering this more actively?"

It is funny how normalcy bias is viewed when seen in others versus seen in ourselves.  In others, it becomes clearly visible; in ourselves, perhaps we often engage in it without even trying.

The end of May is looming large in a great many ways:  end of job, end of employer related health coverage (that search is on), end of a known income amount, end of gym membership (cut due to costs; I have a smaller facility that is much cheaper but without near the equipment). 

But literally right after that in June, we have an overseas vacation coming (which was already paid for and thus, non-refundable) that I am very much looking forward to as well as the first opportunity to train with the head of my sword school in three years.

It is as if a hard - very hard - and bright line is being drawn.

I have, for the last 27 years, either been in or instinctively returned to my industry as it was known and safe.  But I wonder:  what if this perhaps not just another break in the history, but rather the end of it?  That rather than lingering in something I should move on from, God has graciously taken the liberty of  helping me exit the plane at 10,000 feet?

Intellectually I understand the concept.  Emotionally, I find myself shying away from it intensely and reaching for a parachute that is not there instead of looking to my Instructor for a different one.

Physical Time And Diet Change

 Today, in case you were keeping tabs, is Day 29 of the 60 day WARN notice.  The organization of my e-mails in to archives is complete and all but a handful of meetings canceled (of the ones I am attending, a few are required and some are for my personal interest).  My e-mail and "chat" traffic has dwindled to a trickle, mostly items I am cc'ed on.  It is odd how both the time has passed quickly and dragged.

---

This week, as part of my "Get the medical appointments in before insurance changes", I had a physical.  Physically I seem fine and my usual two concerns - blood sugar and blood pressure - seem relatively well in hand. What was a surprise, perhaps more accurately a shock, was my lipid panel.  My triglycerides, which have always been high (apparently), were at 292 milligrams per decaliter (mg/dL) where the normal range if 50 to 150 mg/dL.  My HDL was 33 mg/dL (range > 40 mg/dL) and my LDL was 117 mg/dL (range < 100 mg/dL); the ratio between the two was 6.34 (normal 0.00 to 4.44).  Cholesterol was a mere 8 mgs about the top of the rang (208 mg/dL; normal 140-200 mg/dL).

Kindly enough in his notes, the doctor did not ask "Are you still alive?".  He did, however, suggest a change in diet to more of a "Mediterranean Diet" and come retest in four months:

- Plenty of vegetables, fruits, whole grains, legumes, and healthy protein sources (low-fat dairy, low fat poultry *(skinless), fish/seafood, and nuts)
- Use non-tropical vegetable oils (e.g. olive oil)
- Limit sweets and avoid added sugars, sugar-sweetened beverages in particular
- Avoid fried food and limit red meat consumption
- Avoid processed foods

Also (apparently), losing some weight can significantly impact these numbers.  Which is fine; while I have some level of increase due to weight training, there is still some of level of fat that could helpfully  make itself absent.

I had thought my diet was not all that bad and I was following some of these areas, but apparently it is time for a pretty significant change.  On the bright side, it does sound like this can be resolved without medication if I put my mind to it (and I suspect that it would further improved blood sugar and blood sugar).

Finally, my prostate is apparently okay as well.  So I have that going for me.

Public Service Reminder I: If you have not gotten a physical recently, go get one.  Helpful to know and, frankly, with the ongoing disruption in drug supplies (yes, there are still shortages) and the ever-increasing cost of health care, a lot of our health is going to be up to us (more so now than ever).

Public Service Reminder II:  Tetanus Shot.  If you have not had your booster and it has been 10 years, go get it.  Because you never know.

The Collapse C: De Ira

15 May 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius:

I was chatting away with Young Xerxes as I was laying out the garden on the ground today. I found him a little angry today as I spoke with him. This is atypical of our discussions, so I probed a bit further.

I am fond of the boy Lucilius, fond of him and thus of Stateira more than I had anticipated finding myself. It has been such a long time since I have had younger family around that I had almost forgotten what interacting with them was like. Probably a hazard of old bachelors and old widowers I suspect: we become so used to being alone as the younger generation lives their lives. Part of it is natural: for better or worse, we want to leave them to themselves to live their own lives out untrammeled by our mistakes. Perhaps unfortunately in our haste to leave them on their own, we occasionally forget we have wisdom to bring to bear as well.

He was unwilling to precisely identify the source of his anger – at least to me – and I have learned through a lifetime of listening and giving advice that probing the source of the anger can sometimes shut down all avenues of conversation entirely. I ascertained it was not at Stateira (and by extension, not at Pompeia Paulina) and not at his own living situation (which, to be fair, he has been surprisingly vague about in our acquaintance). It was just...something. Something about life, and perhaps the way that it has turned out.

The anger of young men. Something you and I may be more familiar with than we care to admit.

In response – after the stream of words had dwindled to a trickle – I hesitantly suggested a different view, based on my own namesake, Lucius Annaeus Seneca.

You will recall (Will you recall? I tended to just spit these things out randomly in conversations; I have no idea what stuck) that the original Seneca wrote a three part essay on anger. It figured largely into the Stoic frame of thinking which is itself interesting to me: I suppose dwelling in a time of mass democracy where the crowd could just as easily turn against you or being subject to the rule of dictators and tyrants can do that to a person.

Seneca starts by comparing the fact that wild beasts can exhibit rage, but only man has been granted wisdom, foresight, diligence and reflection (so why not use them, of course). He addresses the fact that anger can inspire things like bravery or courage, but that it can just as easily go awry and like any weapon, becomes indiscriminate in harming all around us, friends and foe alike: “Again, anger embodies nothing useful, nor does it kindle the mind to warlike deeds; for virtue, being self-sufficient, never needs the help of vice”. Standing against wrong: “And so the man who does wrong ought to be set right both by admonition and force, by measures gentle and harsh, and we should try to make him a better man for his own sake as well as for the sake of others, stinting, not our reproof, but our anger.”

“Anger”, he says, “has this great fault – it refuses to be ruled. It is enraged against truth itself if this is shown to be contrary to its desire” and “Anger aims at nothing splendid or beautiful”. The result: “But sorrow is the companion of anger, and all anger comes round to this as the result of either remorse or defeat”.

Seneca has an accurate view of human society, one that is frighteningly accurate to the way things were:

“But why recount all the different types? Whenever you see the forum with its thronging multitude, and the polling-places filled with all the gathered concourse, and the great Circus where the largest part of the populace displays itself, you may be sure that just as many vices are gathered there as there are men. Among those whom you see in civilian garb there is no peace; for a slight reward any one of them can be led to compass the destruction of another; no one makes gain save by another’s loss; the prosperous they hate, the unprosperous they despise; superiors they loathe, and to inferiors are loathsome; they are goaded on by opposite desires; the desire for the sake of some little pleasure or plunder to see the whole world lost. They live as though they were in a gladiatorial school – those with whom they eat, they likewise fight. It is a community of wild beasts, only that beasts are gentle toward each other and refrain from tearing their own kind, while men glut themselves with rending one another. They differ from dumb the dumb animals in this alone – that animals grow gentle towards those who feed them, while men in their madness prey upon the very persons by whom they are nurtured.”

To be fair, I had to dig out my Seneca to read this section; Young Xerxes just sat in silence.

The cure, suggests Seneca? To not be angry by realizing the state of man: “The wise man will not have anger towards sinners. Do you ask why? Because he knows that no one is born wise but becomes so, knows that only the fewest of every age turn out wise, because he has fully grasped the conditions of human life, and no sensible man becomes angry with nature”. Anger, he suggests, comes from an impression of injury – remove the impression of injury and we remove the source of anger, not only of great events, but of “trifling and paltry incidents” (and who among us was not angry at the order that was missing pickles on our hamburger or the coffee that was incorrect at one time?). And often our anger comes not from things we expect, but from things we failed to anticipate – so accept everything and nothing becomes unexpected.

How? Refrain from anger, delay the onset of reacting to our anger, ignore or at least feign ignorance to those acts which could make us angry. Avoid people that make you angry, if you are able – “It will, therefore, be a man’s duty to avoid all those who he knows will provoke his anger”. Fight back with the unexpected reaction: “Does a man get angry? Do you on the contrary challenge him with kindness”.

Seneca closes out his third book on the subject – written largely of historical examples – with the following:

“Let us be freed from this evil, let us clear it from our minds and tear it up by the roots, for if there should linger the smallest traces, it will grow again; and let us not try to regulate our anger, but be rid of it altogether – for what regulation can there be of any evil thing? Moreover, we can do it, if only we shall make the effort”.

Young Xerxes listened to me ramble on, mostly in silence – the sort of response that philosophers and old men are used to at some point, the response of an audience which is either confused, uncaring, or processing the information. It becomes hard to parse at some point. We talked a bit more in general about Seneca and his life, and then he headed off to his next destination. He may have looked thoughtful, although I have learned to assume nothing.

I carried on with my garden planning on the soil and on paper until the afternoon, when Pompeia Paulina appeared with a thermos of tea and – of all things – shortbread cookies, the sort you cannot get anymore. She insisted I take a break, and who would argue with such cookies and company available?

This was, apparently, her way of saying thank you. Whatever the issue was, he had left my house and gone to theirs, where he and Stateira had a long conversation (of apparently unknown subject matter); when they returned, she commented that he seemed at peace in a way she had not seen in some time. He mentioned that he and I had talked about anger.

I have no idea what the initial nature of the issue was and I suppose at this point it remains unknown and perhaps unknowable, except by a random chance. What does matter – what hopefully will matter – is that the next time Young Xerxes is confronted by anger, he has a tool kit to deal with it.

So much wisdom in the ancients, Lucilius. How much we have forgotten to our detriment.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca

Old English, A Historical Background: Harald Harefoot and Hardecanute

After the death of King Canute in 1035, Anglo Saxon history falls into a bit of an odd tranche.  The North Sea Empire was really the creation of a single man who was in some ways unique:  a strong personality, no imminent rivals, and the ability to manage multiple groups to his benefit (so for example, Canute's ending of the Viking raids).  Had Canute lived longer, or perhaps had a single strong heir, things might have been different.

To be fair, the collapse had already started prior to his death.  His designated heir in Norway, Swein was first forced to leave the-then capital in 1033 and Norway itself in 1035 and Magnus Olafsson (Magnus the Good) returned. Swein died shortly after his return.

His heir in Denmark, Hardecanute (or Harthacnut), was forced to remain in Denmark for three years in fear of a potential invasion by the now-restored Magnus.  The Anglo-Saxon council, the witan, decided that a regent in place of King Hardecanute was in order and so Harald Harefoot was named as regent.  But the decision was not totally supported, and so Harald became King with the support of Earl Leofric of the Northern half of England North of the Thames; Earl Godwin held the south in the name of Hardecanute supporting the claims of Emma of Normandy, Canute's second wife and mother of Edward and Alfred from her previous marriage to Anglo-Saxon King Æthelred. in 1037 A.D., Godwin was forced to concde and Harald crowned as king.

It was also during this time that Alfred and Edward returned from their exile in Normandy. It is unclear if the return was a visit to their mother or an attempted uprising; in either case it was not successful, and perhaps showed that the ascendancy of the Anglo-Danish nobility was fully in support of the house of Canute and against the house of Wessex.   Alfred was captured by Earl Godwin and given to supporters of King Harald, who transported him to the city of Ely. During this transfer, Alfred was blinded and then died soon thereafter. This death created a rift between Edward and Godwine, a rift that would continue to blossom in the years ahead.   

Hardecanute had not taken this lying down and was apparently preparing an invasion until hearing from his mother, Emma, that his half-brother was in ill health in 1039 A.D.  In 1040 A.D. Harald Harefoot died and Hardecanute became King of Anglo-Saxon England.

Hardecanute arrived as a potential invader in 1040 A.D. (taking no chances although he expected to become king); the crews had to be bought off (again) with a Danegeld of 21,000 lbs of silver and gold. Apparently as one of his first acts (and horrified, at least publicly, at the death of Alfred), he put Harald on trial, exhumed his body, and then had it beheaded.  Queen Emma also demanded that Godwine be brought to trial:  arguing he was forced to follow orders of Harald, he escaped punishment (along, as it turns out, with a healthy bribe to the King in the form of a ship).

Hardecanute, upon his arrival, attempted to rule as he had in Denmark:  autocratically. This did not work well with the evolved Anglo-Saxon way of kingship, where the king consulted the witan and the great nobles of the realm.  He was equally unpopular by the fact that he increased taxes to support a fleet to protect other parts of his realm, including destroying the town of Worcester after townsfolks killed two of his tax collectors. 

Apparently he, too, could see his death coming, and so in 1041 A.D., perhaps under the influence of his mother Emma, invited his exiled half brother Edward back, most likely as his heir.  

In an interesting side note, Hardecanute's death was somewhat spectacular.  In 1042 A.D., while at the wedding of his standard bearer, the King "Consumed great amounts of alcohol" and, as drinking to health of the bride, "died as he stood at his drink, and suddenly fell to the earth with an awful convulsion; and those close by took hold of him, and he spoke no word afterwards".  Likely, it seems, a stroke.

The House Of Wessex had returned.

(Link to previous works)

Works cited:

Brooke, Christopher:  From Alfred to Henry III 871-1272.  Norton Library:  USA,  1961.

Trevelyan, G.M.:  History of England Volume 1:  From the Earliest Times to the Reformation.  Anchor Books:  USA, 1953

Hollister, C. Warren:  The Making of England 55 B.C. to 1399.  D.C. Heath and Company:  United States,  1976.

Wikipedia:   North Sea Empire, Harold Harefoot,  Harthacanut

Hammerfall 2.0: What Is Old Is New

 One of the interesting things that has happened now more than once in my nascent job hunt is the question "Have you considered going a Quality position?"

I do not suppose I should be surprised by this question - after all, if I were to view my curriculum vitae with a unjaundiced eye, I would clearly fixate on the almost 20 years of experience in Quality and much lesser times in other areas and think that this would be a logical step - after all, it is not like anyone is looking at that year I did 30 years about as an adjunct faculty member and thinking "Have you ever reconsidered a career in teaching because once upon a time, you did it?"

Initially of course, the question felt a bit out of place.  I have not been applying for Quality positions.  It is not something I have indicated in any of the conversations that I have had.  And yet, I suspect if I just opened myself up to apply for such positions, I would likely see an increase in the amount of contacts.

To be fair, a job is a job, in this economy more than ever (and more importantly, benefits are benefits).  So how much of this is my own pride?

After all, I am cognizant of the fact that while in my mind there is only forward progress in careers, in point of fact there is no such thing in the real world.  If I am truly honest with myself, I have been "back" to the same sort of job multiple times (sometimes even after I thought I had left it completely).   And I am also sure with individuals that have many years of experience in Project Management, my paltry few years almost seem like an experiment in career placement - and let us not kid ourselves that someone over 50 starting a new field can seem an awful lot like an experiment instead of a guaranteed success.

The one issue - it has come up already - is explaining the change.

This is the gap, the chink in my armor. If I only use the language in the review that precipitated the change, it looks a lot like "I am not at all good for the job".  That, as you might suspect, is probably not the best way for me to start out an interview.  At the same time, one has to be in some ways honest about something, lest the inconsistency become a red flag during the follow on interviews and references.

I have tried to split the difference, by acknowledging the change in positions (true) but also noting it was due to a philosophy change (also true).  I am not sure how well that will hold up, but it seems the most logical course:  it has the benefit of honesty, it is consistent with the career narrative, and would explain why a Quality position might again be a path forward (in this case, with the polishing of a Project Management course of work).

I am working to manage my own emotions in this - after all, it does indeed seem like in some manner a retrograde step, or a settling.  I keep trying to remind myself that this is not my ultimate end; it is something I will hopefully do until I find the next step (this, I need to be a great deal more active about).

Follow Up:  The initiation of this post were two potential phone screens.  For one I have the job description, the other was suddenly canceled at literally the last minute.  So perhaps this path is no better.

April Streams

The rains of Winter
run between the grass-green hills

proclaiming Springtime.

2023 Hike 1 Day 3

 Our night this night was pretty awful:  There was no good level campsites left and so we all slept (more or less) on a hillside, slowly migrating down and then up all night.  The day was cold and brisk and all of our tents were soaked with condensate.  Fortunately as this was our last day, we elected to pack the tents wet and head out.

There was much less "off roading" this day, and once we hit the main trails we more or less stayed with them.

The angle of coming upon this tree made it look very much like an Ent.  This would be terrifying late at night, I suspect.

The latter part of the hike (10 miles total) had us traversing the hills and then a steep downhill. It made for beautiful views.

Our return trip was celebrated - as it almost always is now - by burgers and shakes upon our return. Other than being pretty stiff (and my soles hurting a great deal, but I think that was due to wet shoes), I would consider this a successful first outing.