SPECIAL OFFER: For my LinkedIn family and blog followers, I would love to have you with me on this journey as I write this book. I would be honored to have you offer feedback on short pieces I write. This short piece today is the second draft of a Foreword. In return for your time and insights, I will provide you a copy of the book at no charge when I cross the finish line in a couple of months. (more…)
Foreword There is a prevailing myth that “TRAINING DRIVES PERFORMANCE,” which represents a false narrative that limits effectiveness when we depend on training for default solutions. The myth prevails because we in Learning & Development (L&D) have done an outstanding job of setting false expectations for our operational stakeholders that all performance issues default to training as the standard solution. They bought it, and sadly, so did we. In reality, Training only contributes to POTENTIAL. Why? Because performance does not happen until our workers return to their respective Workflows. Last…
This post is the third installment of Mirror, Mirror. It may be the final posting since this piece is heading toward a larger self-published project. I welcome your thoughts be they good, bad, or ugly because they only make future work better. Enjoy! * * * Coming awake in a strange place can be unsettling; consider how much worse it could be to figure out the strange place is a county jail cell. That is precisely where Sandy found herself. In a cell, by herself, with the floodgates opening,…
This story is a continuation of "Mirror, Mirror" and methinks the muse is forcing me to continue adding what may become chapters in a larger piece. Consider these posts sneak peeks. With growing confidence, I can say Game IS Not Over...yet!I hope you enjoy it! G. (more…)
“…and besides my invitation for you to go straight to Hell, how did you get this number?” Sandy’s question seethed with boiling anger. “Well, try answering your cell and stop ignoring my texts,” spat Phillip, his voice seasoned with the anger of his own echoing over the desk phone. Why had she insisted on keeping an old-school landline anyway? No idea who is calling and no way to block anyone. Since Phillip now had the number, she would cancel the service at once. Canceling him also crossed her mind, and…
Katherine awoke with a start from deep in a very strange dream whose content evaporated almost immediately upon opening her eyes. Residual sensations of arousal faded out of her body nearly as fast. What had her dream been about? Why was she on the downside of arousal, or was it the upside? Why could she not remember anything about a dream intense enough to cause these feelings in her body? And why was she smelling smoke? SMOKE!? screamed her brain – and she bolted out of bed trying to follow…
There comes a time in one’s life when you have to look into the mirror and not just see the familiarity of the reflection that stares back at you. There comes a time when one really has to look into those familiar eyes and beyond the blackness of your pupils to really see the life that has been recorded in the experiences behind them. A few years ago, I did that very thing, and I was not at all pleased by what I saw. There was a lot of clutter…
Of the seven deadly sins, why did I start with Lust? Quite simply because it was the sin that most defined what was pervasive in my life. Does my use of past tense mean that lust is no longer a part of my life? Hardly. It is a daily struggle. It is part of my world…our world. It is an addiction. Addictions are never really cured; they are only avoided, replaced, or distracted, or we remove ourselves from them…but they are always there. Lust is always there waiting to tempt…
Here goes nothing. This has been a risky piece to write. I suppose confessions are that way. I fully anticipate judgements to come from my words here, but it is okay – I have the comfort of knowing which judgement matters and Who makes it. (more…)
It was Friday afternoon when my son and I returned home from the video store, part of a typical pre-weekend routine. My attention shifted automatically toward a little green house along McKee Road. The house was small and sat on a patch of farmland that had not yet succumbed to the advance of the city. The large trees provided shade and seemed to stand guard over the house. My eyes searched the porch for him, but he was not there. His chair was there, but he in his denim overalls,…