Really, who Are You?

When I was 13, hormones raging, I had no idea who I really was.  Nor did I have any idea who I would become.  Now, I am over 60 and I still feel exactly the same.  Sure I have done a lot of stuff, more than most, and people who apparently know me can tell you who I am.  At least, they can from their own perspective.  And, yes, of course, along the way between 13 and 60 I was pretty sure I had a grip on who I was at any particular time.  Self-absorbed to say the least.  Why else would I write about this subject!  But, the truth is I do not know.  I have been told ad nausea by those that “know me” best who I am and the inner voice in me always replies, “How can you know that when I do not have a clue myself?”

I am envious of those who can answer this question for themselves.  They are smarter, more self-aware and luckier than me.   I can use all the labels; male, Caucasian, upper middle class, average intelligence, opinionated, incredibly good looking (see, I really do not know), sarcastic, irascible, stubborn, a father and husband (hopefully a good one), and on and on.  But, none of those labels make me feel warm and fuzzy, none of them, except maybe being a good husband and father, really resonate.  This state of being, not knowing is enormously frustrating, especially if you think, as I do, that being something is the reason I am here.  Before I die it sure would be nice to know.

I am always amazed at the kind of person that just knows at age eight they want to be a fireman, policeman, astronaut, doctor, actor, president or world class athlete.  How wonderful it must feel to know so everything you do leads you to that end.  I am a little bit envious of that capability.  A little bit leery too.  It also scares me shitless.  Why?  Because I am not that bright.  Like Indiana Jones in The Search for the Holy Grail, “Choose wisely!” has not always been my forte.  Preprogramming one’s life at an early age makes me think about horse blinders; life on the periphery obfuscated for a vision dead ahead.   If I knew what I should be doing, why would I be here right now ruminating once again about this subject?  More frightening, given my gene pool, where Octogenarians are the norm and living into ones 90s is not uncommon, I likely still have one third of my life to go.   Hopefully healthy.    Life should be a blessing, but it seems I may have wasted two thirds of it trying to figure out what to do with it.  As I take my last gasp it sure would be nice to know just who I am supposed to be.  For some reason that beckons me.

I only share this because since joining the Greater Impact Foundation the question has becomes less daunting to answer.  Spending my time focused on doing the work that helps enable those struggling at the bottom of the pyramid has reinvigorated me, given me focus and imbued my persona with a spirit that is enormously satisfying.  Duh!  What a dunce.   I probably knew in the back of my head all these years that this is what I should have been pursuing all my life.  Whether that is true I am not sure.  What I do know is my meandering life, the one that just happened has resulted in this good fortune.  For that reason alone I now know that I am quite happy that I did not know what I wanted to be when I was eight, 13, 21, 30, 50, and, well, you get my drift.  I have meandered into the perfect storm and I am grateful for it.

Life Inside the Bubble

I admit it, I make believe I am strong, stoic, and capable.  But, I am not.  Actually, I am weak. That is why I live in “the” bubble. You know the one I am talking about, the proverbial one where nothing can get in that forces me do deal with the reality swirling, like Lear’s tempest, just outside my false reality.  Of course, I am self-conscious enough to know that this is foolish, even stupid, edging beyond ignorance. That is why I have found it necessary to double wrap.  Yes, I have a bubble within the bubble.  I’ll bet you do too.

I try not to, but I do; at times the bubble seems impervious, my turtle shell, armadillo skin, my modern day medieval armor.  I know it gives me a false sense of comfort, a safety unassured, but like others, I do this as a simple matter of self-protection. Yet, lately, that just doesn’t seem safe enough.  Thus, the bubble within the bubble.   Far stronger than kryptonite.  Able to repel the most repugnant truths.  Constructed out of a pathos impervious to logic.  Impenetrable.   You have one, don’t you?  Maybe less the paranoia expressed here, but sure you do.  How else does one face down reality day-to-day?  Think ISIS, indiscriminate crime, bathtubs, the last step; you know, the one that is a doozy. Think strangers lurking.  Or relatives lurking.  Think gravity and asteroids, earthquakes, sink holes, the ten plagues or anything else completely out of human control.  Like babies!  Just kidding… almost.

The obvious conundrum?  I know that inside my bubble that is inside my other bubble I have no greater control of the outcome of my existence.  I can subdue the siren’s call to nothingness, but I know it is just a mind game.   Choosing oblivion inside the bubble versus facing the chaos outside may seem a better choice, but it is not.  Close your eyes.  Internalize. Forget all.  Dream wonderful dreams.  Wake up.  Robert Penn Warren was right when he said in All the King’s Men (I am paraphrasing) that you can escape into “The Big Sleep,” but sooner or later you have to wake up. Inside my bubble I subdue the siren’s call to nothingness; restrain myself from the mindlessness spewed from spurious soothsayers who know not what they do (or why they do it).  Inside the bubble I keep the evil doers at bay; those that wish to burst my preferred reality; the one I have worked so hard to protect inside my bubble.  Yet, my hard fought struggle is fatally flawed just like “The Big Sleep.”

Inarguably, outside the bubble, amidst the chaos, the world is a beautiful place.  I discovered that long before I “grew up” and realized that its counterpart, evil, was lurking in the shadows.  And, as sophisticated as my bubble may be, it does not filter our just the bad stuff.  The good stuff, the reasons for living, are filtered as well.  That, in short, is the fatal flaw.  I do not mean cat videos, or sports championships or anything lauded by current fashion.  I do mean any of those things that we love for no particular reason other than we do, like kids, and dogs (cats too… at times), brilliant simple solutions to perplexing problems, rain peppering a corrugated roof on a hot, humid night, or that moment when you look in someone’s eyes, someone you love and know they are thinking the exact same thing as you.

At times, when working with an organization like the Greater Impact Foundation the temptation to withdraw inside the bubble is strong.  It is quite evident when one witnesses life at the bottom of the pyramid that there are better places to be.  Yet, it is that very experience, which is most definitely outside the bubble, which is the genesis for those things one wishes to protect inside the bubble.  Again, the conundrum.  The hard truth is that the concept of the bubble is truly vacuous.  It is unnecessary. Truthfully, those living in poverty do not have the luxury of such a contemplation. It is a privilege no matter how flawed, unavailable to those with no time to consider anything other than the next 24 hours.  Equally, living life outside the bubble reveals the beauty of the world while simultaneously compelling us to face the obstacles impeding our hopes for humanity. It forces one to face reality head on and do something to burst the bubble forever.  Again, the conundrum, but one worth confronting.

Legacy

“Legacy is not what’s left tomorrow when you are gone. It’s what you give, create, impact and contribute today while you’re here that then happens to live on.
”

— Rasheed Ogunlaru

I admit the subject of legacy haunts me.  It preoccupies me, probably to a fault.  I know it impacts my daily behavior because I know that my daily behavior, each 24-hour period, has a profound long-term impact on who I am and how I will be perceived to those that care.  I know that will be my epitaph.  That notion, the perception of what that might be, drives me, scares me, makes me fearful that in the end I could be one of those who came and went without leaving a guiding, forward thinking, positive legacy; one that leaves the temporal world a better place, one that eases the transition through life for those that follow.  Painfully, that fear of failure always whispers in my ear.  This predicament, when the negative is the underlying force of the positive is distressing.  It is an impediment to dealing with some of the biggest reasons we often opt out from doing what is in the best interest of all, opting, instead, for behavior that is generally in the interest of oneself.   Even more disconcerting, this phenomenon is not a requisite human behavior.  It is manmade. This is why, for me, the opportunity to work with the Greater Impact Foundation is redeeming.

I have been lucky my entire life.  I grew up in a stable home.  I had opportunities to do things most just dream of doing.  I have been blessed to work for great companies with quality people.  My health is good.  My family seems to be thriving.  Even my Mother-in-Law loves me!  My wife is my best friend, the only one I can argue with knowing she will still be there after she has proved me wrong.  My children are turning out to be terrific, warm-hearted young men. Yes, I am lucky.  The good life has fallen into my lap.  Yet, nagging in the back of my mind there has always been that voice whispering, “Ken, that is just not enough.  Yes, you have a responsibility to your family, but what about the others, those in greatest need, those that are not as lucky as you?  What are you going to do about that?”  Then the Greater Impact Foundation gave me the most important gift of all.  It has given me that opportunity to do something that voice in the back of my head has been imploring me to do my entire life.  Help others.  Enable them to live a sustainable life; one with dignity.  Give them the opportunity in their own way to be as lucky as me.

The world is a difficult place for those at the bottom of the pyramid, particularly for those at the bottom of the bottom of the pyramid.  Life at the margin of existence can be brutal and relentlessly unforgiving.  It is hard to envision just how brutal it can be without experiencing it.  Intellectualizing it is of value, but inadequate.  Talking about it is important, but specious.  Even experiencing it knowing that you can always return to the comfort of your own home when it all becomes just a little too overwhelming feels hollow.  But, actually working with other likeminded people to create opportunities to fundamentally change life for those in greatest need has been one of the most rewarding endeavors I have ever undertaken in my life. 

I have been told that I can be stubborn.  Stubbornly, I know this is true.  That voice in my head has been imploring me for decades to do the right thing.  Now I have that opportunity.  I intend to make up for lost time.

Nowhere Left to Hide. Not!

If you believe that the world is in turmoil and there is nowhere safely left to hide from the notion that a piano is about to fall on your head, then perhaps you should just not go outside ever again. You could stay in your own little world and cocoon in the back of your head; safely ensconced from the beauty of the real world and miss the reason for living.  Other people. Other places.  Other cultures.

ISIS, leftists, rightists, fence sitters, radicals, pacifists, vegans, meat lovers, religious absolutists, atheists, agnostics, hawks, doves, trolls, financial philanderers, petty criminals, felons, boiler room scam artists, people who prey on the old and poor, the self-centered selfie-addicted, self-absorbed politicians, well-meaning politicians, idiots, savants, people with bad manners, intolerant people with good manners, racists, zombies, natural disasters, your family at Thanksgiving, anybody on New Year’s Eve, all mirrors (you might see yourself)… avoid them all.   Your ignorance will make you so much more at peace.  Ignorant, but at peace.  That is, if flat lining while your still breathing is a semblance of a life well spent.

Or simply stop watching, reading and fretting about the news and get outside and see the world for yourself.  Meet other people. Visit new places.  Experience the world on your own terms.  Rather than listening to pundits (where is Will Rogers when you need him?) with little or no scholarly perspective pontificate about subjects merely to radicalize your point of view for ratings, whatever it might be, you could actually experience your own reality, come to your own conclusions and learn that while there is a great deal wrong with our world, there is also a great deal right with it.  Glass half full versus half empty?  Absolutely!

I am not immune from the underbelly of life.  At times it is just plain scary.  Evil exists.  Pretending it does not is foolhardy.  Wariness is not just advised, it is prudency cubed.  Even the strongest spirits remain cognizant that the world is not a perfect place.  But, forever focusing on the dark side is downright depressing.  The alternative is so much more appealing. That is why I love my job so much.   At the Greater Impact Foundation the people I meet epitomize what is so good about the world.  No, they are not saints, but they are good of heart with the best of intentions because there is nothing more worthy than people trying to help other people.  

I won’t embarrass them here but the organizations they represent are worth noting.  Drishtee in India, Good Weave in Nepal, Food for the Poor everywhere, Eco-Fuels and KickStart in Africa are just a few.  These organizations focus on helping the poor.  They are just the tip of the iceberg.  The news rarely acknowledges them, but they are worthy.  Meeting these people.  Visiting their communities.  Experiencing the diversity of our planet. Seeing the positive change they engender.  Sharing their kindness is invigorating.  It is impossible to understand the beauty around us cocooning alone in fear of the unknown.  Not everyone has the opportunity to do this.  That is why I feel blessed that I have nowhere to hide.  If a piano is to fall on my head, so be it.  In the meantime I am ready.  My glass has already overflowed.  

Give Them a Break

Sometimes it is just hard to understand why those that seem to deserve a break are often challenged to overcome hardship again and again.  We hear about it in the news all of the time.  Likely, we personally know earnest people who are constantly put through trials and then set back by circumstances beyond their control.  Don’t we wonder why their luck seems so elusive?  Isn’t that one reason many pray amidst their own bounty for those that need it most, for those that deserve the same good fortune?  Isn’t that why some question why those that need it least, those that deserve it least, those that could share their good fortune and never miss it seem to remain oblivious to the needs of others?  Is it just the vagaries of life?  Is it God’s will?  Or, is it that God does not exist and we should stop expecting some greater force to make things right and just do it ourselves?  Isn’t this lament ancient, a riddle, a simplistic distillation of the same question that has haunted humanity forever?  It is.  Ancient texts have addressed this dilemma far more eloquently, far more nuanced than I could ever do in an internet blog. I know my limitations and there is no pretense in my observations; nevertheless, this quandary remains ever-present, always surfacing in my head when I least expect it.   How about you?  The all too recent earthquake in Nepal is the perfect example.

The Greater Impact Foundation www.greaterimpactfoundation.org has been a supporter of Good Weave Nepal, an incredible organization committed to the eradication of child labor in the rug industry, the education and employment of marginalized women to take their place and the legitimization of the industry by the government and private enterprise.  They have been making great strides forward and it has taken many years.  Then the earthquake literally shakes the foundation of their progress.  I cannot explain the chaos.  I am not there.  But, I was.  Two months ago.  I met the children Good Weave has saved.  I met the women Good Weave has trained and employed.  I have met the merchants who are leaders in the rug industry.  I have met the government officials who can help.  I have spent time with the people who make Good Weave work.  I could see the potential to help those in greatest need in measurable ways. Then their world came tumbling down.  And, yes, it is haunting to me that those in greatest need cannot seem to get a break.

Of all the places in the world there are few that are literally closer to the heavens.  The beauty of the Himalayas surrounding the valley where Kathmandu lies is beyond words.   The people are kind.  Their poverty is overt which makes their needs seem almost impossible to meet. Their perseverance is obvious and over time they will recover in spite of the setback.  Yet, I still sit back and wonder just what it is that makes the little blue marble spinning in the void tick and the same lament rises into my consciousness again.  Give them a break.

 

Living In-Between

Lately I have been struck by the concept of Living In-Between.  Right now, my wife and I are in the midst of moving, downsizing because our kids are grown and gone.  We are relocating from one state to another, from the four season beauty and endless winters of the northeast to the unrelenting sunshine of the south.  While it is a privilege to have that freedom to change our living situation as we age (gracefully), it is nevertheless disconcerting.  There is a disconnection taking place.  Yes, we know or hope that new connections will complement the old enduring ones and we know our kids and close friends will visit (especially during the winter months).  But, the psychological impact of displacement and not knowing when and where we will lay our heads while in-between remains.  The hard part for me is that the regardless of my rationalization of our current situation, I feel like a spoiled little child.  How self-absorbing it is to think that my problem is actually a problem at all!

The contradiction is simple.  My job, which I love, is to help organizations focused on the alleviation of poverty.  And, I know that those suffering at the edge of existence have few, if any, options.   Their focus is on today.  Their needs are those of basic survival.  How do I feed my family today?  How do I earn enough to take care of my sick child today?  How do I deal with the intensity of my living environment today, whether it be sub-Saharan Africa, rural south Asia or any other place where marginalized families struggle to survive?  It makes me feel guilty, even a little childish.  Thankfully, I have the reality of my work to bring me back into focus.

The Greater Impact Foundation, www.greaterimpactfoundation.org like many other organizations with a social mission offer me a view of reality that reminds me of how blessed I really am.  The luxury of lamenting my sense of in-between-ness fades away quickly when I think of young children starving for regular meals, starving with the desire to go to school, starving with the desire just to be a kid, starving for a world where instability is replaced by stability.  The self-absorbed attitude dissipates when I think of the fortitude required by families living on the edge and the accompanying grace I have come to know despite their desperate situation.  Suddenly, I feel better, though somewhat ashamed that I let my self-aggrandizement get the better of me.  A dose of reality does wonders for the soul.

Lucky All Around

Lately, I have been on the road again.  In January and February I made a lengthy and somewhat strenuous journey to East Africa and South Asia.  It was all business, though, for me, this kind of business is always a pleasure.   I am lucky in that way.  Travelling to remote places, meeting incredible people, experiencing what the world is truly like outside the American womb is always an invigorating education, if not a mind numbing, exhausting one.  Now, on the road again, this time to Colorado, Utah, California, Florida and Connecticut I am again struck by the magnificence of America.  I am lucky in that way too.  I am also made painfully aware of how little American’s appreciate the incredible productivity of the American way of life.

There is much ado about the crippled infrastructure of 21st century America.  Indeed, aging bridges, outmoded airports, freeways strangled by traffic, aging post World War II and post 1990s housing stock sagging before our eyes speaks to an America that desperately needs its leadership to act in concert to return it to the “shining example on the hill” pundits often opine about.

Education is under attack for failing to educate our kids and gouging aspiring collegians.  Health care is under attack for its expense and failure to meet the needs of those in greatest peril.  The news cannot resist sharing all this so-called bad news and laying blame on anyone available other than themselves.  But, when travelling around the country it is hard not to realize how blessed we are relative to the poverty, poor governance, corruption and general chaos in countries with no infrastructure, no easily available route to higher education, absent healthcare safety nets, corruption at all levels and a future that seems perpetually at risk.  If it weren’t for the strength of the family unit and community support and the universal drive to not just survive, but persist and even thrive, life in the developing world would appear to be hopeless.  In the end, those in the developing world want no less then what we desire at home, a safe reasonably stable world where the opportunity to improve one’s lot is real.  I still believe America represents that potential.  That is a luxury for those born in to poverty where every day is a challenge.

I find beauty and pain in almost all places I visit.  Wherever I travel I find people gracious, curious and thoughtful.  Of course, there are those that belay that profile abroad and at home.  Yet, without question America’s overall appeal, in spite of all its warts, is a thing of beauty.  And without question those faraway places also have an incredible appeal when one looks closely at the people, their culture, and the strength of the family unit amidst the natural beauty of their own world.

I am very lucky to have been born in America, political machinations aside.  I am very lucky to have the opportunity to see what the rest of the world is like as well.  I am lucky to have the privilege and time to incorporate the best of both into my own world.  It makes me a better person.  It makes me want to do more to bring everyone, regardless of where they live, closer together. I am lucky all around to have been born in America.

The Ideal GIF Partner

What makes a great partner for GIF?

The breed of organization GIF loves to become involved, under challenging environments, knows how to create and develop practical, durable, affordable, repeatable solutions to everyday problems at their root cause.

The kind of organization GIF loves to get involved with has talent, not just enthused, more aptly, infused, at all levels, with the mission driven drive to over deliver to their customers wherever they may be, aiding and abetting the downfall of poverty. Combine that intangible with a heart filled with goodwill and you may have the perfect storm.  Talent matters.

A great company has a plan with the experience to execute it, measure it and then improve on it.  Blending the metrics and reporting mechanisms into the operational flow is second nature.

At www.greaterimpactfoundation.org any social impact organization with one or more years of traction that demonstrates the ability to be sustainable and achieve scale over the long run is encouraged to apply.  This is especially true if the five paragraphs herein resonate inside your organization.

Holy Cow

Most people know that in India the cow is considered sacred. In the Hindu religion, the cow is revered as the source of food and a symbol of life and may never be killed.  But, it was not always so. It was not until the early centuries AD that the cow was designated as a gift to the brahmans and was soon said that killing a cow was akin to killing a brahman. Perhaps, it was for practical reasons as well as spiritual ones. The cow provided key essentials for survival including milk, butter for lamps, fuel from dried dung and more. 

Today, in fact, the use of dung is still prevasive. About half of the usable cow dung in India is used as fertilizer; the other is used for fuel. Dung is often collected while it is still steaming and shaped in pancake-like patties, which are dried and stored and later used as cooking fuel.  One survey found that dung was the sole source of cooking and heating fuel in nine out of ten rural households in the 1970s. Cow dung is often preferred over kerosene because it burns with a clean, slow, long-lasting flame that doesn't overheat the food. 

Cow dung is also mixed with water to make a paste which is used as flooring material and wall cover. Cow dung is such a prized material that a great efforts is made to collect it.  Of course, that chore falls to women and children.  Its value remains extremely high today.

Cow urine is distilled to make it drinkable.  Dental powder is made from cow urine. In fact, cow dung has been used for centuries as a medicine. Today, it is now made into pills.

Yes, most people know the cow is sacred in India.  Though, I have to admit I was taken aback when I watched a young woman mixing dung and water and spreading it by hand on the hardened clay floor of a cooking area to “sanitize” it.  I can find no documentation that supports that notion.  Upon completing the work, my host asked the young woman to prepare tea.  She rinsed her hands with water from the nearby pump and headed inside to make the tea.  I quietly leaned over and told my host, “I appreciate the ritual of drinking tea with guests, but there was no way I was going to touch this particular cup of tea.” Cow dung may be the valuable byproduct of a sacred animal; however, I was quite certain that my western stomach held little faith in its efficacy as a way to sanitize a cooking surface. 

Overnight to Bhagalpur

At the Greater Impact Foundation a key responsibility is ground level due diligence.  It is the best way, either to confirm, or not, the suitability of an organization for a GIF Grant.   So, recently I spent some time abroad doing just that.  While away, among many of the fascinating people I met was Satyan, the Co-founder and Managing Director of Drishtee Sustainable Communities.   www.drishtee.com     We had spoken a number of times beforehand, and I was familiar with his background, but we had never met.  

What is a great way to get to know someone?  The reality that Satyan and I, having only met hours earlier, got on an aging Indian overnight train, stayed and slept together in a two birth private car is pretty unique.  From the time we got on the train, until we disembarked the next morning, I left the room a few times only, once to briefly explore, the others to use the toilet.  Not my favorite thing to do in potentially questionable circumstances.  Otherwise, I stayed put and let Satyan take the lead.  We had a great time; met a few interesting people, talked at length on many subjects, not just work, and actually did in one night what usually takes much, much more time.  We got to know each other.

The experience proved valuable in two incredibly useful ways.  Being in such close quarters necessitates some level of intimacy.  As such, Satyan and I got to know each other well in an incredibly short time.  Equally, though I did not know it until the next morning, I slept like a baby rocking to sleep on the old rickety train.  Fifty hours earlier I was in Tanzania where this latest and most convoluted leg of this journey to India and Nepal began and I was tired.    Slightly more amusing was that Satyan had to use his GPS to confirm if the stop we were supposed to disembark from that following morning was coming up or not.  No, conductor announcing stops.  There are few or no signs or directions to guide one.  Besides they are in Hindu.  You are on your own unless you have made a friend on the overnight train to Bhagalpur.  Welcome to India.