Cradle me

Yesterday was pretty craptastic, even before we got to #SOTU.

I’d been toying with the notion of taking a course whose object is to publish a book. My idea was to write about mid-life career changes, but turns out there’s no point to going through the course if all you’re going to do is publish a book; it’s supposed to be a stepping stone to something else—a great job offer or a new gig. Well, I know I’d never get a job offer on the back of my book idea, and I’d rather swallow coarsely-ground glass than start up a coaching or speaking career about mid-life career changing.

So that was a bummer.

Then, I spoke with someone who’d said he’d be happy to help with my job search (but has been remarkably unforthcoming), and asked him about a specific company that makes community engagement software. He knows most of senior management of this company, so I asked for an introduction. Oh, well, um—I should talk with my recently ex-manager about this company—he introduced him to the company, and I probably wouldn’t like the culture there. (Dude—my ex-manager doesn’t know I’m job hunting; I’m not going to ask him about the culture of a company I’m looking into as my next gig. Just come out and tell me you’re not going to be any help.)

So that was a bummer.

Then there’s all the news from the cesspool that’s the White House and Capitol, which I don’t have the stomach to summarize. Suffice it to say I did not watch the Kleptocrat struggle against sundowning to read the teleprompter last night.

And that’s a real bummer.

No, I got home yesterday afternoon and just inundated myself in something that’s unequivocally beautiful: music. And here’s one of the pieces I chose.

I first heard Natalie Merchant’s “Motherland” a couple of weeks after I returned from my European assignment in October, 2001. I was in my car, listening to someone from NPR interview her on a Sunday morning, and she sang it live in the studio. I kept driving down Route 7 until I got to Tower Records in Tysons, and I bought the CD.

I’ve not thought about it for a while, but its lyrics seem especially appropriate these days. What’s crawling about a thousand miles a day now is worse than concrete. Lust and avarice? Yeah. 

We have got to figure out a way through this.

And I have to figure out a way to get over the bummer that was yesterday.