We're Out of Glue Sticks!

Oh, the gravity of the situation. Have you ever been reminded that "it's not brain surgery?" I have a six year-old that is the master of this advice. (He's also the master of the neologism, but more on this on another day, after he has signed a waiver to not sue me or register for a lifetime of therapy because of my disclosure.) If I complain of aches from sitting in a chair in front of the computer too long, driven by deadlines: "why don't you get up and take a break?" If I mention that I'm hungry: "why not have a snack, Mom?" You see the pattern. Sage little man.

Sometimes we catch ourselves at the workshop talking fast, furiously and very very seriously about something relatively important. Like, "which color tulle would make the very best fairy wing?" "Where can we possibly get the crunchiest fall leaves even though they have really just begun to fall?" Or, "We're out of glue sticks! We really need at least six more of the jumbo glue sticks. The kids love the bigger glue sticks." Certainly, we take our jobs seriously. We want to be the best at what we do and want our Wishcrafters to feel, without having to be explicitly aware of why or how we do it, our commitment to their experience. And so we find ourselves taking our purchase of cleaning products or our choice of music for the morning.....seriously. It's almost hard to use the word. But, like I said, it's relatively important. Relatively.
Every company wants a dedicated employee. And no company wants a dead employee. (Ok, well maybe the banks that take out janitor life insurance policies in an attempt to be financially creative.) So, with little Six-Year-Sage in mind, let's not implode over budgets or Olympic bids or box-office results or parking tickets or idle talk or too many buffalo-plaid shirts in the stores. I recently heard some smart grown-ups advise a group of women to be a "lighthouses". To not run up and down the shore trying to shine the lights for the incoming ships (or customers or book deal or...) Be the best little lighthouse, shining the light with verve and joy and commitment and stability. And jumbo glue sticks. The ships and the waves and the fog will still be there. Where will you be?