A Poem For A Birthday

To the Light of September
W.S. Merwin

When you are already here
you appear to be only
a name that tells of you
whether you are present or not

and for now it seems as though
you are still summer
still the high familiar
endless summer
yet with a glint
of bronze in the chill mornings
and the late yellow petals
of the mullein fluttering
on the stalks that lean
over their broken
shadows across the cracked ground

but they all know
that you have come
the seed heads of the sage
the whispering birds
with nowhere to hide you
to keep you for later

you
who fly with them

you who are neither
before nor after
you who arrive
with blue plums
that have fallen through the night

perfect in the dew

Just Two Little Moments

We will call this the two sides of the same dog. 

Going To The Birds

I was laying (or is it "lying?") in bed last night when I indulged my bad habit of scrolling through Twitter before falling asleep. Bad idea. It's always a bad idea, but I read an article that truly alarmed me. Of all the things, of all the horrific stories in the news (especially on Twitter), this one won't leave my brain. 

Birds are Vanishing in North America

Maybe that doesn't seem so bad upon first glance, but the stat is truly terrifying. Nearly one-third (one-third! 30%!) of North American birds have just disappeared over the last 50 years. Gone. Vanished.

I really love birds. I've noticed that my interest in birds has steadily increased, mostly since being at the lake in a setting where they flit, chirp, and nest right outside our windows. When I'm on the deck and there are no whirring boat engines, target practice gun shots, or early morning chain saws, their twittering creates the most pleasing and peaceful background noise. Combined with the light breeze through the oak leaves, glittering sun on the lake, and water lapping at the shore, it's my idea of utter tranquility.

So there is the layer of trying to imagine places without that sound that is alarming, sure, but it's also a bit more concerning than that. How does this massive shift in bird populations affect other species? What happens if other species start dying off too (fyi, humans are a species...)? What does their disappearance say about the state of the earth? What the heck is wrong with us that we don't realize that something is seriously wrong and that our trajectory is troubling to say the least? All of those horrific, dystopian, apocalyptic books that I spent nearly a decade consuming will move from the fiction to the non-fiction shelf.

It's infuriating to read an article like this, and there are countless others about the scientific evidence of climate change's impacts, and have that juxtaposed with leadership that denies, ignores, and actively works against strategies and policies that would at least give the earth a fighting chance. All to bolster their power and financial position while ensuring that the rest of us (oh yes, all of the rest of us but mostly those most at-risk) will undoubtedly suffer. It makes me sick. Disgusted and absolutely disillusioned about the current state of the world, much less the future. Sure, I'm a pessimist, but I don't see a way back from this. And if one is miraculously found amidst the turmoil, chaos, and declining state of democracy, it's going to be too late for us anyway.

Have a great weekend. Live it up while you can.

Just A Little Moment

Did some yoga this morning then cozied up under a blanket on the deck to watch the fog drift across the lake and the clouds swim along the sky. A perfect little moment of pause and reflection to start the week.

Reflecting On Brightspot

A year ago today, two other NH women and I officially launched Brightspot Consultants, a collaborative specializing in strategy and fundraising consulting for nonprofits. To say I'm blown away by this entire thing is an understatement. I constantly find myself a little shocked that 1) I am a business owner 2) I did this with two other amazingly strong, fierce, and kind women 3) we are successful and 4) we have worked together to define success on our own terms, terms that are true to who we each are and how we want to work.

Beyond those surprises, I also realize that I still have A LOT to learn. I know a lot about nonprofits and fundraising, perhaps enough to be considered an "expert" on those subjects, but that is not always the most important element of being a consultant. Sure, nonprofits want how-to tips, content, and advice, but they also want someone to help them navigate the sticky dynamics of human nature inherent in their work. The nuances of communicating, of helping lead people to the solutions, of facilitating important conversations. That's the expertise I desperately want and am so enormously thankful to have in the form of my two partners. Without them, this would've been a failed enterprise. 

The power of collaborating is more clear than ever to me after year one. We each bring our own strengths, experiences, and personalities to the table, hopefully producing a collaborative that is full of knowledge but also full of genuine interest in supporting the sector, improving the work these organizations do, and in turn, making life a little better for our communities. And doing it all kindly and authentically.

I had rejected the idea of being a consultant so many times in my head, dismissing my weaknesses as too critical to be effective in this kind of role. And yes, I'm a work in progress (who isn't still learning after one year on the job?) but I am so happy to be engaged in this work. It's truly a bright spot.