humanity
The real lives of businessmen, professionals, the everyday man, stay at home parent, healthy lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories.
Let's Look On The Bright Side Vocal Media Just Did Us A Favor
It’s been a week since the Vocal community was in an uproar over the word count situation from one of their recent challenges. Do I really need to rehash the details? No, because everyone and their mama knows all about this bit of juicy tea. But I will anyway for those who come across this article in the future, brand new to Vocal and having no clue about the situation.
By Nathalie Clair4 years ago in Journal
An Olympic Management Lesson for Us All
Second place. Third prize. Making the finals, but not placing. Too often, our media calls out those who excel, but come up short. Our culture can turn excellence into mediocrity, even inferiority. Think about it. We regard the loser of the Super Bowl as a loser, not the runner up of the entire National Football League - the top football league on the planet. The same can be said for almost any individual or team that finishes second - or even lower - in any competition, any tournament, any league - anything. Winners win. Everyone else, well...
By David Wyld4 years ago in Journal
Mohandas K. Gandhi Biography
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi (Mahatma Gandhi) was born on October 2, 1869, into a Hindu Modh family in Porbanadar, Gujarat, India. His father, named Karamchand Gandhi, was the Chief Minister (diwan) of the city of Porbanadar. His mother, named Putlibai, was the fourth wife; the previous three wives died in childbirth. Gandhi was born into the vaishya (business caste). He was 13 years old when married Kasturbai (Ba) Makhanji, through his parents arrangement. They had four sons. Gandhi learned tolerance and non-injury to living beings from an early age. He was abstinent from meat, alcohol, and promiscuity.
By gopal singh 4 years ago in Journal
Ebony and Ivory
I said goodbye to my dad, hoping it wasn’t for the last time just yet, before getting into the car to be driven to the shuttle that would travel the two hours to the airport. My carry on luggage was heavier than usual because of the piano music I was lugging around in it. Only some of it was actually for professional practice. Most of it was for soothing my own soul.
By Glenna Burdick4 years ago in Journal
How the Arts Have Saved My Life
The arts are beautiful and powerful because they pause the horrific tragedies and mundane realities of life and allow the participant to enjoy a different, more relaxing part of life. The arts I specifically partake in are crocheting and music, both playing and listening to music.
By Mackenzie Larsen 4 years ago in Journal
My Queen Cal Crochet
It’s first thing in the morning, the horses are already fed and there’s a steaming cup of coffee on the table next to me. I pick up my current work in progress and I settle into the couch. Three quarters of the way done, what will become a queen-sized monster of an afghan when it’s completed, is now too big to leave the house with me to help pass the time in waiting rooms. I settle the mass of twisted and looped together yarn across my lap and pick up my crochet hook to continue work where I had left off.
By Kristine Nissel4 years ago in Journal
Aegis of Action
The sun again rises and the motion of the world churns forward. Eating and commuting and working. A populace moving from point to point, barely alive, barely a life. Possessed of a will no longer their own and flown with mediocrity, awash in the sluice of time and drifting further from a glittering shore. Glowing boxes broadcast opinions to sullen ears, unimportant information repeated on the hour as divisions are exaggerated and terrors imagined. The sun sets and night falls. A small respite, but the risen moon casts the shadows of the day to come. Worry and doubt redouble their strength, brethren born of a misery shared by the sleepless staring at dark ceilings. Minutes tick away until yet again the sun sets into motion a distasteful plan, immortal and unbreakable. Were there but some great magic, some plan to allay the morass.
By Brian Salata4 years ago in Journal
Renaissance Festival War Stories
Weekend 1 Opening Sunday I do some walking around the festival grounds with the riddles sign and my book. A trio of adults in their mid-20s stop me for a riddle and one of them says, "Should we sit?" Going with the premise of 'yes and...' we sat down right in the middle of the path. I read some riddles and they each answer one correctly. I eventually extend my legs out and am lying down on my side. I'm holding the riddle book with one hand and gesturing with the other. And like a beacon, a dragonfly lands on my right pinky and stays there for about 45 seconds. One of the ladies was kind enough to snap a few pictures and send them to me. She said, "It's your spirit animal," Then the dragonfly flew off. I said, "It probably would have stuck around longer, but you insulted it by saying I was it's spirit animal."
By Tinka Boudit She/Her4 years ago in Journal
