What Dreams May Come

It never occurs to you that the world will end at the most inconvenient time. We make our apocalyptic plans based on scenarios that include the people that we love or trust, resources that we imagine we’d have at our disposal after all of our careful stockpiling, without realizing that out of 365 days a year, 24 hours a day, the majority of that is spent either at work or sleeping. So unless you sleep with your ideal survival partner (come on, be honest), or work with the zombie fighting crew you’ve dreamed of, there’s a high statistical probability that you’ll be stuck in the end times with some of the least favorite and most useless people you know in a bunch of cubicles that can stop neither bullets nor waves of radioactive fallout, much less zombies. 

This thought has crossed my mind several times - mostly when I am traveling far from the people I care about and I have the same recurrent but variable dream about the End of the World. It comes in slightly different forms and I am beginning to understand I have these dreams when I begin to feel isolated and distant from the ones who are important to me. Maybe the dreams are not literal prophecies about how the world ends, even though they are full of massive detonations, planes cartwheeling out of the sky and a sense of panic overriding the logic of everyone around me. Maybe the dreams are analogous to the helpless sense of not being able to immediately reach my family when I am somewhere remote and hard to get to, like Uganda or China or Alaska or the Zips on Market Street. 

Last night I dreamt that I was on the South Hill in Spokane and something on the far northeastern corner of the city went up in a cataclysmic explosion that shattered windows across town. I knew I had to get across the river and to my house but when I reached the downtown area, the dam on the Spokane River had broken and a dozen or so small children playing along the banks in the floodplain were swept away while I stood, frozen in shock, with a handful of homeless people who chuckled hysterically at the sight. There was no way I could have reached the children before the giant wave, full of automobile-sized debris, did. I was helpless, and also cut off from getting to where I knew I needed to be. 

Years and years ago I had a similar dream but I watched the mushroom clouds in the distance from the safety of some sort of a bunker with a weird assortment of friends… knowing that my family was out there somewhere, and most likely would not survive. We watched through a small slit window as giant airliners fell from the sky like rocks in a lake. The scene was eerily silenced by the thick walls of the bunker, but the screams echoed in our imaginations as we watched in total helplessness. Halle says I need to quit writing my dreams down in case they start to come true. I suppose I should quit dwelling on them, or cultivating them into sci-fi novels - as I am with the one where the entire planet is incinerated for the agrarian pursuits of an extra-terrestrial species (more on that later), but I believe I am supposed to interpret and understand why I see these things in my sleep, and even more importantly, why I remember every detail so vividly. There is something I am supposed to learn. 

The biggest thing that stands out to me is the helplessness I feel in the moment of crisis. The inability to reach my children or parents or the other people I love. The isolation. Always in my dreams the paralysis I experience is followed by action of some sort. A solution to bridge the gap, or the flooded river, in the case of last night. But I wake up feeling impatient to begin the action now, proactively. Close the distance between me and my loved ones. Be ready. Build the bunker. Create the safety zone for the imminent alien attack (I think back in the last century there was shock therapy to treat this kind of thing). Maybe more importantly I need to be closing the gap between me and the people I love the most. Spending more time with them, in the right places. These dreams are just an opportunity to identify and solidify the relationships that really matter, to create rendezvous points, access routes and communication plans, both literally and figuratively, with the ones who matter. 

These recurrent nightmares haven’t quelled my desire to travel yet, even though it may be all of the miles that trigger them. I am fortunate that when I am working so far from home, I’m usually with people who I’d definitely pick for my Zombie Fighting team. I’ve also carved my travel routes to include friends and family who could definitely hold their own in an apocalypse and that helps some. But the dreams certainly make me think through these choices. They  make me more selective in my travel partners and the teams I work with. They make me conscientious of escape routes and backup plans for extrication. I don’t think I am paranoid, not yet anyway… just more deliberate, which isn’t the worst way to be.

Errors in Judgement

I’ve had this striped dress sitting in my closet for years. I love it, but it’s an awkward length, so I’ve never worn it. Since none of my pants will button these days thanks to what my friend Liz would call a “pandemic snacksident”, it seemed like a good time to don the dress. I also realized, after years of lying awake and wondering who I can bribe to hem my dress at a shorter length, that my mother taught me to hem years ago, and it’s a task that I am, in fact, capable of.

But I was running late for work so I decided to just wear the dress as-is, mid calf length, regardless of how pregnant and/or homeschoolery it made me feel. I only made it about three laps around the house when I realized that the mid-calf thing was a no go. I just can’t. It’s too… modest. Besides, the only part of my body right now that I don’t hate seeing are my calves. So I cut the bottom off of the dress.

Just like that. Like I do with the necks of all my t-shirts. Hacked it off. Thought I cut it on the Stripe of An Appropriate Length, but it turns out, it was a stripe or three higher than my intended target. Luckily I didn’t have time to hem it today since that would have made it even shorter. As it is, a slight gust would render me NSFW.

It could be argued that this kind of, um… error in judgement is something that I do more often than I should. I tend to be a “cut first, measure later” kind of person and it doesn’t always bode well for my wardrobe or other parts of my life.

Sometimes I feel like I have emotional vertigo. Decision making seems overwhelming so I just do SOMETHING, anything, and hope for the best. I jump off the cliff to avoid a fall that seems inevitable. It’s a control tactic but sometimes it’s destructive - or counterproductive at least.

My “workout” lately has been putting on the skill of pausing. Jocko Willink talks about this tactic in several of his books (all of which I recommend) - how even in the heat of battle a pause to re-focus priorities when things are evolving quickly can be a game changer. I am not good at it. I am good at forcing my way through things even when all signs point to stop. I am not good at letting go of something when it is no longer the best strategy or the outcome won’t be what I wanted to start with. But that’s what I am working on. Knowing when it’s ok to quit, or at least stop and re-evaluate my action before I move. Measure first. Measure twice. Cut once. Don’t end up with a hoochie skirt. Also, if anyone out there want to help me fix this… and by help I mean do all the sewing, I would be happy to continue denying my hemming capabilities.

On Self- Approval

I can’t stand being disapproved of. In fact, the fear of disapproval has made me a coward. I feel like most of my childhood was immersed in disapproval, which is status quo for the religious world. “God” was so busy disapproving of what I said or wore or did that he had no time to remind me of my worth, regardless of my shortcomings . We’re still working that one out.

I’ve been fairly successful in avoiding conflict since I moved out of a conflict-riddled “Christian Community” nearly 16 years ago. I have steered clear of politics, religion, and CrossFit to avoid any discussions that get past a level 1.5 intensity, which is to say, an episode of The Brady Bunch.

But life is conflict. It’s struggle and strife and finding yourself on the opposite side of an issue from other people. Sometimes you’re across a sea of discord from people you love and respect very much. That’s hard. I hate it. HATE it. Because when we don’t agree, it seems oversimplified to say that we have different perspectives, but we literally are not able (or in some cases willing, but I think it’s usually able) to see the logic or righteousness of their position. For me, disagreement has always meant disapproval. If we disagree, then you disapprove of my viewpoint, or vise-verse. It’s so much discomfort I would rather eat a bowl of lima beans or be forced to watch a marathon of Janette Oke made for TV movies.

I am learning to hold the anxiety of disapproval and discord at arms length. To look at it and make it’s acquaintance. To see what is there for me. Almost always, I am expanded. Almost every time I can embrace conflict, I grow as a person.

I feel like my life right now is nothing but disagreement and discord. In fact, the only person that I think is fully supportive of me is that one drunk lady I met at the bar last weekend who told me tearfully that I could do anything if I put my mind to it. (Fist bump to you, drunk lady.) I feel unsupported, but I also feel sure of my own thoughts, and that’s a new feeling for me, and one that to be honest, wasn’t allowed for most of my younger life. I am relatively intelligent (especially in the context of the geographic area where I live), I have some education and some experience and I have formulated ideas and opinions, that contradict people on all sides of my life, but they’re mine. I have to own the discomfort in the confidence of my own mind and heart. That’s a tough thing for me, but I am learning.

I am figuring out how to be comfortable under the microscope of disapproval. I have to learn that disagreement does not have to negate love or respect. I know many people whom I love but also disagree with. I respect many human beings but don’t see eye to eye with their position on things. This is the beautiful tension of life, and the secret to unconditional love. I don’t have to like it all, I don’t have to enjoy it all, I just have to accept. I suck at it, but I am getting better, I hope.

Being a better human doesn’t mean being more agreeable. It means being tolerant in spite of differences and defending liberty for every person, regardless of my approval ratings for them, or the other way around. It means mutual respect and compassion,

Live THIS Life

“You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.”

— Marcus Aurelius. Meditations 2.11

I’ve struggled with this quote from Marcus Aurelius in the context of the stoic philosophy of making the best of every situation, good or bad, and not letting things become larger or worse in your mind than they are in reality. At face value, this line reads like a Carpe Diem commission: Seize the Day! Don’t waste a second! Don’t miss out!

If you know me at all, you’re probably pretty well aware that FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out, for all of you acronymally challenged folks and/or baby boomers out there reading this) has historically been a driving value in my life, since my earliest homeschooling days when I realized All The Fun I was missing in public school where boys made dirty jokes and girls changed best friends more often than their underwear.

My FOMO has faded since I have experienced… well, a lot of things, including dirty jokes and unchanged underwear, and I’ve discovered the bliss of a couch full of dogs and a Person of Interest - but even as that anxiety takes a back seat, I am keenly aware of the shortness and frailty of life, the unguaranteedness of all of it, and how necessary it is to do the important things while we can.

The Stoics weren’t much into that FOMO business, so what did ol’ MA mean when he said this? It certainly wasn’t some hedonistic missive to tear it up and get you Clubbin’ on, just in case it was your last chance. Based on the context and his other writings, it wasn’t even some entrepreneurial command to “make hay while the sun shines.”

I’ve wrestled with what Memento Mori - the state of constant awareness of the frailty of life - means in the middle of the doldrums of a cubicle-bound Monday. Nothing feels like more of a waste of time than the constant refresh of email inboxes, social media feeds and planning to plan meetings about meetings about planning documents to plan agendas for planning events for some grand plan that might ultimately never come to fruition anyway, or be shot down by lack of funding, or even worse, lack of vision in a community. How can I sit here and do this knowing that any moment could be my last? How?

Marcus Aurelius had his own cubicle-bound Monday doldrums, there’s no doubt about it. This dude served as Emperor of one of the greatest civilizations that the world has known, only after decades of intensive study and grooming. There had to be a thousand moments that little Marky was staring off into the dancing poplar trees, daydreaming of Dryads and Nymphs, wondering what all the greek and latin gibberish was worth anyhow. What he discovered in those scrolls and daydreams wasn’t a way to escape to a new and exciting way to waste his time - he learned to maximize the thing in front of him. He learned to suck as much life out of that marble cubicle and those rolls of parchment as he possibly could. There was no avoiding the responsibility that his birth and education allocated to him, and so he decided to master every lesson delivered to him, and let it shape not only him, but the nation he would one day rule.

Maybe Marcus wasn’t talking about how frail life was, but how changeable. Maybe it’s not life in general that you could leave right now, but life specifically. Maybe the cubicle life is about to end and there’s something in that plan to plan that you’re gonna need outside of those closing-in-on-you Monday walls.

I am striving to own the place where I am, the life I am in, in this moment, and get the most out of it - and on beautiful summer days, staring at two monitors and a lot of foreign information that does little to stir my soul, it’s a workout. I need to complain less and seek more growth, because the hard stuff is usually the stuff I need the most, and maybe sitting still is the toughest thing I’ll say I’ve ever done in my life.

My two-monitor days won’t last forever, but it’s imperative that I get out of them what I need for the life beyond. So that’s the standard by which I should be measuring what I do and say and think. I need to see what I am missing out on right in front of me, because it won’t last.

The Surprise of My Life

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a sailor. I wanted to join the navy, like my dad, but mostly because I really liked the hats and I had this adorable sailor-suit romper that I remember wearing on my 8th birthday, when I unwrapped my very first bible from mom and dad. That bible is filled with scribbled notes, especially one giant highlighted one, announcing the fact that “I WILL DISCOVER THE ARK OF THE COVENANT!” - the next of my future ambitions, archaeology, and one that would circle back around later in my life. 

The only colleges that I applied to during my senior year (at home) were bible colleges with mission aviation programs. I wanted to fly planes into jungles and drop important things that tribal people needed, like bibles. I met a girl who fought fire and thought it was the baddest ass thing that I could Never Do. But I told God to send me anywhere, the remotest, most destitute place on earth for Him, I was ready. 

Growing up, I don’t remember imagining a family, or kids. If any thought of offspring crossed my mind, I could imagine tolerating a small herd or rowdy boys. I remember only one specific thing about a wedding that I wanted: a ride in a sleigh with a red velvet, fur-trimmed cape. Instead I got married in October between two bonfires, surrounded by torches and a church congregation hand-clapping to one of my least favorite church songs EVER. 

I never fantasized about the little blonde girls in princess dresses and cowboy hats that would fill my life from the age of 19 until now. I never imagined canning quarts of peaches or cooking casseroles. I never planned out the domestic bliss that was in store for me. I had fantasies of dorm rooms and best friends and road trips with loud music and lots of snacks, not an SUV covered with crushed Goldfish Crackers and a steady diet of Rice and Beans and cheap Macaroni and Cheese. 

I had waited anxiously for 17 years to meet the One Man that I would spend my life with, traveling the world, studying intellectuals and philosophers, tromping through ancient ruins and up breathtaking mountainsides. I never could have anticipated what was actually in store. At 17 I was too young to see it coming, and it’s a good thing, cause I might have bailed. And then where would I be? God sent me to Northport. He gave me four little girls and a dud of a marriage. You don’t get much more remote or destitute. But you do get adventure.

When my kids were born, I guess I was too preoccupied with survival to spend time imagining what they’d be when they grew up. Now I know that it would have been a silly waste of time, because these four are nothing I could have seen coming. Wild and brilliant, beautiful and weird, if my life was never anything more than the ledge those four needed to jump off in to the world, it was worth it.

Every turn in my life has been a surprise. Some tragic, some amazing, and all of them necessary. There is no point of my life that has turned out how I pictured it. Sure, I studied some anthropology and even did some archaeology work. I’ve fought the fires. I’ve been on the road trips, but it’s usually my kids riding shotgun in the SUV with the loud music and the crushed Goldfishes. I didn’t land the One Man for my Whole Life (yet). But I’ve done more than my share of tromping and traveling without him, and with plenty of other amazing people. 

I never got to be a sailor, but I get to work with a few and I love them AND their hats. I actually did drop bibles in a jungle, just not from a plane, and it taught me more about what I was in need of than the people who lived there. I’ve canned peaches and studied philosophers and met heroes and poured beers and drank whiskeys with greater human beings than I ever thought I’d get to meet. 

The Surprise of My Life IS my life, with all of its twists and turns, with four little women who are four times the woman I could have dreamed. Every day is another surprise, and just when I start thinking I might know what’s coming next, life comes up with a better idea, and I’m ok with it. Wonder what’s next?  

Poohology: How A. A. Milne told a lot more than children's stories

In answer to a flagrantly libelous article that went viral on Ranker, wherein the author made some wild extrapolations in regards to the characters of A. A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh books, I have this response: You are wrong. Cheryl Adams Richkoff, although your list-format blog post was based on the research of neurologists and pediatricians, namely Sarah E. Shea, Kevin Gordon, Ann Hawkins, Janet Kawchuk, and Donna Smith in a study in 2000, I have to question whether any of y'all have ever read even one of Milne's classic books. The assumptions about the psychological disorders that the playmates of the 100 Acre Wood suffer from over-analyze, overreach and overlook the most important theme of Milne's characters: childhood innocence and imagination. From my extensive research into the material, I believe Milne actually stumbled upon childlike versions of what are actually full fledged personality types in the psychological realm. So, Mr/Ms. Richkoff, Shea, Gordon, Hawkins, Kawchuck and Smith, try some Poohology on for size. I'm betting you're a bunch of Owls. 

Poohology: a rough breakdown

Christopher Robin: The Reluctant Leader

"Christopher Robin came down from the Forest to the bridge, feeling all sunny and careless, and just as if twice nineteen didn't matter a bit, as it didn't on such a happy afternoon, and he thought that if he stood on the bottom rail of the bridge, and leant over, and watched the river slipping slowly away beneath him, then he would suddenly know everything that there was to be known, and he would be able to tell Pooh, who wasn't quite sure about some of it."

Christopher Robin is a young boy with very little life experience, yet in the eyes of his friends in the 100 Acre Wood, Christopher Robin is an unstoppable force of brilliance and a magnetic director of events. Christopher Robin is unintentionally the guiding voice to people all around him, in all walks of life, old or young, he is a natural, however accidental, leader. People look to him for advice and direction, and unwittingly draw insight from every casual remark. Christopher Robin does not seek followers, nor consider himself much of a leader. He is charismatic but matter of fact. He is pragmatic and black-and-white about issues. He is logical and develops solutions without really trying. Christopher Robin’s weakness is a certain ambivalence to his ignorance. He is the master of fake-it-til-you-make it, and can lead the blind blindly into chaos and mayhem. A wiser and more mature Christopher Robin begins to operate in awareness of his followers and make choices based on the outcome for all. He is confident (externally), curious and occasionally prideful. He can be defensive, or humble, depending on maturity and context. Christopher Robin is a loyal friend unless his aptitude is questioned. He can easily walk away from a person that threatens his self-confidence and perceived position in life. He usually has many casual friends and one or two close confidences. Even with those he is deliberate and guarded in communication. Vulnerability is a rare trait for Christopher Robin, but demonstrates health and maturity. He works well with all of the other characters, but has a special fondness for Pooh (the abstract intellectual) and Piglet (the selfless loyalist). He is a problem solver and an instigator. He is relied upon heavily by all of the other characters. He thrives on taking care of the others and being dependable and trusted. He is a hard worker but can be easily misled or distracted sometimes, this also depends on maturity and humility.

“Always remember... Yo are braver than you believe. Stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.”

Winnie The Pooh: The Abstract Intellectual

"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."

Nobody quite knows where Pooh comes up with his brilliant ideas, but somehow, they always make sense. Getting from point A to point B is usually a profoundly complex route through Pooh’s stuffed-with-fluff head, but he gets there, and usually right on time. Pooh is predictable, dependable, logical in his own strange way, and a steady emotional anchor. A mature and healthy Pooh provides an atmosphere of safety and reliability to all of the characters, all though they lose patience with his round-about reasoning. He is not usually very industrious, but will pitch in when asked, and promptly get distracted. He is usually not a multitasker. Winnie the Pooh is somewhat of a mystery to many of the other characters. He is usually well liked, but often held at arms length. He works best with Piglet, who serves as his interpreter to concrete thinkers like Rabbit and Tigger and Kanga. Pooh is quite intelligent, but not always in a practical way. His solutions are not always implementable, but his thought processes provoke some fascinating insights. Characters like Piglet and Roo, and occasionally Tigger, are drawn to his rambling intelligence and can be followers. Pooh is usually somewhat unaware of the other characters and their needs. He can be somewhat introspective and be blissfully unaware of crises around him. When these problems are pointed out to them, he is eager to help, and sometimes happens to land on a stroke of appropriate genius. He is a giver, but he is also mildly greedy. He cares deeply for people but an immature Pooh does not communicate this very well. He can come across as self-focused and uncaring. Pooh likes everyone but does not feel the need to seek out or pursue relationships, other than with Christopher Robin. Most friendships come find him, and if they go away, he won’t necessarily notice.

Piglet: The Selfless Loyalist

”And then Piglet did a Noble Thing... 'Yes, it's just the house for Owl,' he said grandly. 'And I hope he'll be very happy in it.' And then he gulped twice, because he had been very happy in it himself."

Piglet is an odd little man. He is fiercely loyal, to the death, of his friends and perhaps even total 
strangers – when it comes to the protection of someone else, he is fearless and proactive. His self image is usually frail enough that he can’t see the same course of action in his own defense and is often taken advantage of by characters who prey on his loyalty. Piglet is intelligent and very logical. He is successful in most endeavors and unfortunately, much of his success is usurped either intentionally by unhealthy individuals or unintentionally by unaware characters like Pooh and Owl. Piglet will be the last one to state his own needs, but he is a homebody and is very particular about his own lifestyle. He is expressive in his own comfort zone, but does not feel the need to broadcast his individuality. He would very much rather not ever be the center of attention, and when he springs to someone else’s defense, his only holdback is the realization that he is drawing attention to himself. Usually a price he is willing to pay. Piglet can ultimately develop hard feelings and become cynical, but he compartmentalizes these feelings and tries to pare out bad relationships. He is a one-friend kind of guy usually. He gets along with most characters but will only invest heavily in one or two characters at a time. He likes Pooh because Pooh needs an advocate, and Piglet is just the man. He and Rabbit identify in certain areas, as well as Kanga, but Tigger overwhelms and annoys Piglet usually, unless Pooh is there to run interference. Piglet avoids conflict and is a peacemaker, usually at his own expense. He is also a little bit prideful, and easily embarrassed (refer to center of attention discussion before). He doesn’t handle attention very well, negative or positive, and would rather just not be noticed.

"Piglet lay there, wondering what had happened. At first he thought that the whole world had blown up; and then he thought that perhaps only the forest part of it had; and then he thought that perhaps only he had, and he was now alone in the moon or somewhere, and he would never see Christopher Robin or Pooh or Eeyore again. And then he thought, 'Well, even if I'm in the moon, I needn't be face downwards all the time,' so he got cautiously up and looked about him."


Eeyore: The Emotional Realist

”We can’t all and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.”

Thanks to Walt Disney, everybody has got Eeyore pegged all wrong. Eeyore is a realist. He sees things the way they are, in black and white. He has good days and bad days and expresses them very openly and emotionally. While everyone else can make the most of a bad situation Eeyore will patiently face the negative and hope for better luck next time. Eeyore is intelligent and thoughtful, aware of others and their needs to a fault. Eeyore can be depressive or exuberantly joyful. He is creative whether he is talented and artistic or not. He is a plodder. He keeps going, a slow and steady pace, regardless of the situation. He is a great friend for those that can tolerate the emotions he wears on his sleeve. He’s somewhat competitive and enjoys a good friendly debate. He doesn’t like conflict but he does enjoy negotiation. He has utmost respect for Christopher Robin for his creativity, but can see CR’s haphazard underqualifications. Eeyore acknowledges Rabbit as the leader he is but loses patience with Rabbit’s disconnected emotions. Eeyore and Tigger have a love hate relationship because they are the most emotionally expressive characters, and often find themselves in direct opposition, i.e. the thing that makes Tigger exuberant is often Eeyore’s bain, and vise-versa. He is good friends with Piglet and one of the only characters intuitive enough to not abuse Piglets’s selflessness. He is one of Piglet’s only defenders. Eeyore has little use for rambling philosophies or bloviating. Pooh and Owl often annoy him, as he can be somewhat selfish and doesn’t like to waste time or energy on things that seem vain or useless to him. He does not like to be mothered or bossed around but he can establish a good rapport with Kanga and Rabbit. Surprisingly, Eeyore gets along well with Roo, and can tolerate immature characters better than most, perhaps because they also wear their emotions honestly and unabashedly.
“'Oh, Eeyore, you are wet!' said Piglet, feeling him. Eeyore shook himself, and asked somebody to explain to Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite a long time.” 

Tigger: The Well Intentioned Blunderer

”Tigger, where are your manners?”
“I don’t know, but I bet they’re having more fun than I am.”'
Tigger is a whirlwind of emotion and energy and spastic motivation. He is intelligent but so often distracted that his thoughts don’t ever connect. Tigger likes almost every one immensely, but his chief concern is being known for who he really is,“the only one”. Tigger is compelled to feel unique. He becomes intolerable when his uniqueness is threatened or the attention is not fully on him. Tigger is highly opinionated but lacks the pride that causes conflict in this area. He is overwhelmingly curious and opposing opinions trigger more questions in his mind, which he will pursue until he gets distracted. Tigger rarely follows something through to absolute completion. He is full of big ideas and great beginning energy, but finds it hard to stay on target until the end. Most of the other characters enjoy the entertainment that Tigger provides, and calculate the loss that Tigger’s unintentional clumsiness may cost as well worth the friendship. Tigger is the character that will make everyone else late for an event, or invite too many people, or commit social faux paus without even knowing there are lines to be crossed. He creates a headache for Rabbit who truly admires his wanton joy, but feels compelled to complain about it. They are a surprisingly strong relationship, though both will protest. Tigger can also become depressed, and his saddest moments make Eeyore look like a clown. He gets along with Pooh and Owl but is easily bored with their rambling. He and Piglet often end up toe to toe because Tigger has carelessly offended another character, a wrong which Piglet feels compelled to right. Tigger is brave and will try anything. He responds to dares and bets and sometimes he talks bigger than he can follow through on, which again results in conflict between characters. Tigger loves to take care of others, but can’t usually think outside of his own tastes and preferences, and has difficulty providing needs that aren’t similar to his. His energy is infectious and for all of the damage he inflicts accidentally, he is usually a welcome part of anything going on in the woods. Tigger can also be a work-horse, and is far from lazy. He can be a good multitasker when he is healthy and mature.
“Just because an animal is large, it doesn't mean he doesn't want kindness; however big Tigger seems to be, remember that he wants as much kindness as Roo.” 

Rabbit: The Effective Perfectionist

"'Rabbit's clever,' said Pooh thoughtfully.
'Yes,' said Piglet, 'Rabbit's clever.'
'And he has Brain.'
'Yes,' said Piglet, 'Rabbit has Brain.'
There was a long silence.
'I suppose,' said Pooh, 'that that's why he never understands anything.'"

While it’s true that Rabbit is somewhat of a worrier, no other character in the hundred acre wood is as productive and logical. Rabbit is one of the only characters that makes things happen. Rabbit is also one of the few characters that can save the others from the brink of disaster and recover from most catastrophes. Rabbit thinks ahead. He sees logical solutions very clearly, and operates mostly in black and white. He is usually extroverted, an excellent multi-tasker, and gets along well with most characters. Tigger tries his patience to no end, but also give him a perpetual project. An unhealthy Rabbit can become very manipulative, and with his keen tongue and intellect, can easily accomplish his goals at the expense of others. A healthy Rabbit reaches these goals by using cynergistic and cooperative methods. Rabbit is the only character that can really pull the whole crew together to make an absolute success. He is detail oriented and very observant. He cares for others and will bend over backwards to provide for them according to very formulaic and logical needs. He can be very good at controlling his emotions, but he feels things very strongly and is good at expressing himself. He is vociferous and very much a take-charge type. While he doesn’t care about being the center of attention, he is very much concerned with being effective and productive, and will dominate the group to make things happen. He can be smart almost to the point of manipulation in getting the ear of Christopher Robin to coordinate plans. Rabbit has a very tender side that is nurturing and selfless. But for Rabbit, everything must be done in the right way, the correct order, and meet all of the rigid standards he has set for himself and everyone else. Rabbit goes through occasional burn out, but always bounces back to keep the group functioning. Kanga is one of his biggest supports, but they often disagree on implementation tactics. 
"'Ah!' said Rabbit, who never let things come to him, but always went and fetched them."


Owl: The Meandering Reasoner

“Owl explained about the Necessary Dorsal Muscles. He had explained this to Pooh and Christopher Robin once before and had been waiting for a chance to do it again, because it is a thing you can easily explain twice before anybody knows what you are talking about.”

Owl’s strength is his knowledge retention and perpetual quest for information. While he may lack self and others awareness, he can usually make up for it by providing necessary information to the people in his life. Often detached from the bigger picture, Owl gets somewhat preoccupied with his own interests and forgets that everyone around him doesn’t share this preoccupation. Many Owls become specialists in a specific field because they are keenly interested in something, although some become general knowledge hounds and might be drawn to teaching or other information-based work. Whole Owl is very intelligent, common sense and basic things like spelling sometimes escape him. He is more brilliant than practical, in many cases.
  Owl’s concern for others is manifest in helpful ideas and suggestions usually rather than actions. He often provides direction (which may or may not be practical and useful) and instruction for the doers around him. He can be an effective leader, but won’t generally be a great follower or employee. Owl has a sensitive ego that needs to be stroked, but is also fairly good at self-generated confidence, based on his objective knowledge of his own skill level or useful contribution. Owl is not highly emotional or easily swayed but misfortune of his own or that of others. He’s fairly pragmatic and practical, if he’s not too much in his own head. 

“‘Well,’ said Owl, “the customary procedure in such cases is as follows.’”
“Owl, wise though he was in many ways, able to read and write and spell his own name WOL, yet somehow went all to pieces over delicate words like MEASLES and BUTTERED TOAST”

Kanga: the Intuitive Caretaker 

'I don't know if you are interested in Poetry at all?'" 'Hardly at all,' said Kanga" 
Kanga is everybody’s mother. Always in tune with the needs of the people around her, she can also project forward and anticipate future needs. She’s meticulous and thorough in her administration, but organizationally she operates according to a very personalized system. Kanga is a planner and does not like to stray from the designated pathway. She is reticent to relinquish control or follow blindly without explicit understanding. Kanga is usually a homebody - not adverse to socializing, but not seeking it out. She cares deeply for the ones closest to her. More in tune to the needs of those around her, whether they agree or not, Kanga is more empathetic than Rabbit, with whom she has quite a bit in common. Fastidious and something of a worrier at times, she is happiest in a world that she feels in control of. Extremely focused and not easily distracted, it takes quite a bit to get Kanga to engage in frivolous behaviour except very occasionally. 

"She knew at once that, however big Tigger seemed to be, he wanted as much kindness as Roo." 

“Now it happened that Kanga felt rather motherly that morning, and Wanting to Count Things—like Roo's vests, and how many pieces of soap there were left.”

Authors note: The Roo personality is a questionable standalone. Originally, I considered Roo the representation of childhood, a follower-type persona (see Stage One of Mark Manson’s four life stages) that we all eventually grow out of. That being said, I am re-examining the Roo character and am including him in the lineup for the time being.

Roo: the Effervescent Follower

Roo is the one you want on your team. Perpetually enthusiastic and courageous, his curiosity about life is contagious. What he lacks in organizational skills he makes up for in zeal and willing participation. Arguably the universal embodiment of childlikeness, some Roos never grow up. He might make a great employee, but is dangerous in a leadership position a he is usually not in tune with the bigger picture or very good and thinking or planning ahead. 

Amor Fati: Why It's All Alright

“A blazing fire makes flame and brightness out of everything that is thrown into it.” - Marcus Aurelius

If you could go back in time, what would you change about your life?

When you look at the most difficult, pain-filled moments in your past, what wells up inside of you? Is it a deep-rooted loathing? Denial? Hate? Bitterness? Terror? Gratitude?

I have a handful of regrets in my life, some things I wish that I could do-over, like the floral turtlenecks and corduroy jumpers of my high school years, or that perm in 1993… But when it comes to the Really Big and Terrible things that have happened in my life, I wouldn’t undo it. Not because I found any pleasure in those moments or because I am some sort of a masochist, but because it was in those moments, days, years, that I found myself. The person I am today, any growth or success that I have experienced, was made possible by the obstacles that were placed in my path. The unavoidable suffering. The things I didn’t ask for. The things that weren’t my fault.

This is what amor fati means: love of fate. The deep, resonant acknowledgement that everything happens for a reason. Not every day is a good day, but even the bad ones are necessary. On the surface, it’s easy enough to say that pain and misery give us a deeper appreciation for the joy and comfort we find later, but more than that, trials and tribulations give us the complexity, the problem-solving skills, the resilience to navigate the rough water as we move ahead in life. For every broken heart, I am grateful. For every ache in my soul, I give thanks. They have made me who I am.

The hardships I have suffered in my life pale in comparison to the ordeals that many have faced over the centuries. Studying great minds from history has taught me that my misery is the equivalent of a holiday for people who have survived so much worse. The horrors of the Holocaust taught us the power of the human spirit and the responsibility of all mankind for his brother, and it gave birth to powerful voices like Elie Wiesel, a Nobel Laureate, who survived Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps to later write “If the only prayer you say throughout your life is ‘Thank You,’ then that will be enough.” Wiesel witnessed atrocities that we cannot even fathom, and yet his message to the world is one of gratitude.

Life is a force that is, for the most part, out of our control. We buy the illusion of control with our meticulously cultivated plans and strategies, but all it takes is one breath of fate to blow us off our well-charted course into an oblivion, where it is up to us to buck and thrash against what has happened, grasping to regain our delusional sense of destiny, or roll with the wave and bob to the surface upright, looking for the new course and destination - maybe even with gratitude and excitement.

As a young girl, I fell hook-line-and-sinker for the line in the bible that promised me the desires of my heart, if I did what the lord asked of me. I did it, and more, and got shit-in-a-basket in return… far from what I thought the desire of my heart was, a fairy tale love and story book life. Come to find out, that’s not really what I wanted anyway. This restless soul wasn’t ever cut out for a happily-ever-after, turns out I am more of a choose-your-own-ending kinda girl, and it was the darkest moments of my life that have made that possible - I wouldn’t change it for the world.

So amor fati. Love fate. Bring it on. I’ve got my life jacket, which sometimes comes in the form of a bottle of wine, a beer with a friend, a road trip to reset, or sometimes it’s just really loud music on the stereo . We’re all on this ride together and I am grateful that my switchbacks have led me here, to you, and this place where we can ride out the storm together and see what’s on the other side.