Heart Book Series

Today, I was interviewed by Angie Strader on her BlogTalkRadio show "What’s Your Bottom Line?" today. Each week, Angie has straightforward discussions about what it takes to be successful in your personal and professional life. "I pick the brains of my successful and inspirational guests. It’s like getting a free business success and motivational seminar each week!" she commented.

Sheryl is the creator of the Heart Book Series, which includes: Heart of a Woman, Heart of a Military Woman, Heart of a Mother, Heart of the Holidays, Corazon de Mujer (Heart of a Woman, in Spanish), Sparkle-Tudes!, and Heart of a Woman in Business.

Heart of a Woman in Business is an inspirational collection celebrating working women and their unique contributions to the global workplace. This here’s how, sisters-sharing-with-sisters book shares their authentic stories, and offers here’s how and I did it, you can too! Selections offer strategies, practical information, career-bolstering lessons, insights, affirmations, poems, prayers and quotations. Whether you already own a business, planning to start one, or working in a job you love.

The Mother Goose Parade is the largest parade in San Diego County and the largest of its type west of the Mississippi. Each year, the parade attracts thousands of spectators to the streets of El Cajon, California to view the parade for free on the "Sunday before Thanksgiving."  CLICK HERE for the Mother Goose official website.

Parade day for a spectacular event of colorful and exciting entries for people of all ages, especially our children, that continues to thrill spectators with the old-fashion spirit of magic and fun that is America.

They received a $150 donation from the City of El Cajon’s Chamber of Commerce, called meetings and planned the first parade for Friday night, November 28, 1947. The Mayor of El Cajon made a televised announcement the night before the parade. "We’re having a parade tomorrow and want you all to come." Population in El Cajon was approximately 1,500 and parade night was bitterly cold. However, about 25,000 spectators packed the short streets to watch the parade! Three floats were entered and the El Cajon Rotary Club probably got the most attention. A tree was part of the display and the float’s Santa climbed it to give the audience a better view. His costume got stuck and he was suspended from the tree for the duration of the parade. Everyone thought it was planned and loved it.

Prominent personalities who have participated in the parade include Juliette Prowse, Barry Sullivan, Barbara Rush, David Niven, Liza Minneli, Will Geer, Glen Ford, Natalie Wood and Robert Wagner and innumerable elected officials and distinguished honorees. The Clydesdale Horses, U. S. Navy and U. S. Marine Corps bands have also performed and thrilled the spectators.

Some annual association fundraisers are the Mother Goose Parade Golf Tournament, and the famous Men’s Banquet. Tickets are also sold for the pageant Coronation where the new queen and princesses are chosen. The Coronation is a celebration that includes a sit-down dinner and recognizes the outgoing Queen and Court for representing the association throughout the year with grace and pride.

Today, spectators line the streets as the parade continues to grow as an extravaganza with different themes each year. Floats may choose a nursery rhyme theme or a display related to the annual theme, which are judged for distinguished awards. Parade entries include marching units, bands, floats, clowns, equestrians, performing artists, beautiful cars, the Queen and Court, other spectacular elements that provide entertainment, and don’t forget, Santa Claus, to ring in the Holiday Season.

The Mother Goose Parade is rich in history and delights children of all ages every "Sunday before Thanksgiving" which signals the beginning of the Christmas season as Santa comes to town at the end of the parade in his sleigh on his own special float pulled by model reindeer that soar through the sky.

Ratings Guide
AARP evaluated each employer’s performance on a range of workforce practices beneficial to older workers. The five key criteria below are rated from 1 (worst) to 5 (best) in this article. These criteria, along with other criteria, influenced each employer’s overall ranking.

Recruiting Practices
We noted how companies seek older workers. Some measures: Does the company target mature workers in its recruiting efforts? Do recruiting materials reflect the diversity of the people the company hopes to hire, including mature workers?

Training and Development
An important part of any job is keeping skills sharp. AARP evaluated the companies’ skill-enhancing programs as well as how proactive companies were in encouraging employees to take part. Ditto for perks such as tuition assistance. T&D ratings also took into account whether the employer regularly conducts employee-opinion surveys and provides opportunities for new experiences, such as cross-training and temporary assignments.

Health Benefits
We assessed each company’s medical, prescription-drug, vision, and dental insurance coverage, including the percentage of the premium that workers must pay and whether these benefits are offered to part-time workers and retirees. In addition, we looked for extras such as long-term care insurance.

Pension Plans
Key measures: Do the companies offer traditional defined-benefit plans and/or defined contribution plans? Do they have other financial incentives such as stock options, profit sharing, or 401(k) automatic enrollment? Do they offer resources to help workers make informed decisions about retirement savings?

Alternative Work Arrangements
We looked for opportunities such as telecommuting and flextime, which are important to workers with caregiving responsibilities. Another grade booster: phased retirement, in which employees receive benefits while working fewer hours.

2. Scripps Health
San Diego, California
Health Care
11,589 employees (32% 50+)
Scripps gives its workers the red carpet treatment, literally. After every five years of service, employees are treated to an Oscars-style dinner celebration, including a nine-piece band and a Joan Rivers impersonator (we’re not kidding). But Scripps is completely serious about protecting its employees and their families. Example: a new elder-care program, which provides employees with professional care managers who conduct in-home assessments of aging family members and recommend and help secure long-term care facilities if needed. A Scripps benefit to love? Six free 30-minute massages a year for interested employees.

In my work as a career coach, I consistently advise my clients to look for the gifts in every job, especially the current one where they may most feel trapped and miserable. It’s well worth the time to review and identify the very best lesson, experience, or skill picked up from each position in each company. This exercise helps replace feelings of regret or dissatisfaction with gratitude and appreciation which helps a person move on toward success and realizing their full potential.

Being a coach who believes in “walking the talk,” I too have performed this analysis on my own job history. My very first job while in high school as a “kennel girl” at a veterinarian’s office taught me about customer service, the business side of pet care, and showed me the true value of pets in human lives. Summer jobs during college as an office clerk at a copper mine gave me opportunities to learn new skills and understand the operations of a large company. Retail work during the school year provided spending money and a social network.

As my focus on pursuing a career after college increased, I became aware of a different level of gifts and lessons. Working for small, entrepreneurial companies built the desire and experience needed to follow my dream of owning a business. A career in the staffing industry allowed me to hone my operations and supervisory skills and to understand the importance of matching employee talents with the right job. A position as a project manager gave me the appreciation of seemingly minute details required to implement new processes. I can look back at each and every job ever held and clearly see why I was there and how it helped me get to where I am today – the owner of successful career coaching and organizational training company. 

However, there was one job experience that baffled me. About 12 years ago, I spent two years working in a large retail organization moving up through the ranks to Assistant Manager of a multi-million dollar store. The gift of this job continued to elude me during my review over the years of its many components. It was perhaps one of my least gratifying jobs with more negative memories than positive. I could easily identify lessons learned about those things I didn’t want to repeat–the awful hours, a restrictive environment, and poor management practices. I knew there had to be something good there and was determined to pinpoint it. Just recently, I did find that one gift.

Like most of us, the values and priorities I expected from my work life shifted and I moved from being so very work focused to having a more holistic view of all my life’s components. Other facets developed and took precedence: the love of family and friends, the importance of life-work balance, good health, spirituality, and the need for a sense of meaning and purpose in all my activities. As I reviewed that particular job again after having made this mental shift, the gift became very clear–my friend Sharon.

Sharon was my co-assistant manager at the store and we developed a fun working relationship–first based on our mutual discontent and knowing that there was a better way to work–and then from our curiosity and true appreciation of each other’s strengths.  Eventually, we each found different job directions and moved on with our careers outside of that retail experience. Our friendship then really blossomed and became a strong and supportive one. When it’s so easy to stay in touch and get together regularly, even years later, that is a sign to me of something truly meant to be. Through these last dozen years, we have helped each other through life’s ups and downs and share an unbreakable bond–one based on trust, respect, and love. 

Now I look back on that one particular job and see how its gift was the best of all–a constant reminder of what’s truly important, more so than the paycheck, the career path, or any work related lesson – the precious gift of friendship.

While I stood there in disbelief, thinking of my options, the sound floated into the hallway—the primal scream of a mortally wounded dinosaur. Should I meet him on his terms? Should I retaliate? I turned without a word, went into my office, and closed the door. It is better to act than to react.

Major Miller did not agree with a course of action I had laid out for him. We discussed it, but I did not adopt his way of thinking.  He could not contain his anger. In my nine years on the Army Staff in the Pentagon, this was the only incident when someone so strongly and openly disagreed with me.

Coming to work in the Pentagon was distasteful for many officers. There is a popular cliché portrayed on postcards and other memorabilia, “Happiness is the Pentagon in the rear view mirror.” Officers coming into our division usually had been in command of troops. They were accustomed to being the leader in their units. In the Pentagon, they had a desk job in a cubicle, without a secretary or staff of any kind. Yet, a tour of duty in the Pentagon was necessary for moving up in the ranks. There, officers learned things they would never be exposed to in the units, like the culmination of the budget process, force planning data and assumptions, and preparing general officers for their Congressional testimony, among many things. They also had an opportunity to work closely with civilians in the Department of Defense.

Major Miller is a good man, a dedicated soldier with sound values. He had simply encountered a different kind of tension in this job, a civilian woman in authority, and he didn’t know how to handle it. The sound of his pounding floated into the office of the Director, a Major General (two stars insignia). After a short while the general’s executive officer (XO), crossed the hall. He knew that my boss was on Temporary Duty, out of town. The XO opened my office door, stuck his head in and asked “Is everything okay?” I nodded, “Yes.” He closed the door and went back to his office. That sign of affirmation and trust, and others like it, kept me going when otherwise my knees may have buckled.

After some time, Major Miller regained his composure and came in to see me, apologetic and ready to get to work. I was neither vindictive nor angry. His outburst had not diminished my standing or my self-esteem. He soon transferred out of the office.

During times of emergency regular duty hours in our area went out the window. Often it was 7:00 PM or later before we left the building. On one occasion, it was 10:00 PM before I got home. There were no taxis in sight.

Walking from the Metro rail station to my condo took me down a dirt road traveled only by our shuttle bus which had stopped running by the time I arrived. Two parallel ruts, a small clearing, then underbrush and trees—we had been warned of robberies that occurred along this road. This was in the days before cell phones and I was afraid.

My heart pounded—would the gate to the condo complex be chained? How could I get around the enclosure if it were? I nervously fingered my pass card as I neared the gate. The night was dark. God is good, the pass card slipped into the groove on the second try and the gate release clicked. I pushed and the bars began to move. Within seconds I was in the lighted parking lot. My steps quickened and soon I was inside Building 4 where I lived. The upholstered furniture in the foyer was very inviting, but I resisted. Upstairs I had a drink and fell into bed. Knowing that morning was not far away. When we realize the value of what we do, we are inclined to do whatever it takes to get the job done.

It was another exciting day. A unit commander who had served in our office when he was a young major, needed help quickly—desperately. He had orders to move his troops as quickly as possible from the tree-studded hillsides in Germany to the hot desert sands of Saudi Arabia. Saddam Hussein had already invaded Kuwait—no one knew where he would strike next. The adrenaline was pumping! This commander had a serious computer problem. If it didn’t get fixed, troops in the Middle East would not get the supplies they needed. In the fog of war, his regular chain of command was not responsive. He called me.

“I need some help here,” he said and then explained his situation. I called the experts at the Logistics Center in Petersburg, VA. They gave the computer problem the necessary priority and the mission was accomplished. Sounds easy, doesn‘t it? Creative thinking, professionalism and dedication to duty saved the day.

A few years later, as I stood in the line of well wishers at a Change of Command ceremony in Pennsylvania, I spotted that officer in line ahead of me. He was then Chief of Staff of an Army Depot, a colonel with eagle insignia on his uniform. I stepped out of line and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and in what seemed like slow motion, a huge smile spread across his face as he recognized me. He abruptly stepped out of line, grabbed me around the waist, lifted me off my feet, and began whirling me around! It was surreal! “Here’s a colonel in full uniform with his boss standing nearby,” I thought, “whirling me around and around!” It was like a warrior’s homecoming, our own Times Square celebration. He was very happy! I was embarrassed but very happy, too.

Celebration is good for the soul. Too often we demure, “It was nothing,” and short circuit someone else’s thanksgiving.
Whether on the battlefields of war or the battlefields of business, personal power is important. Be real. Know who you are. Value loyalty to your country and your God. Speak your truths and respect others. You have the power.
The Army is a family. It’s their culture. As a civilian employee, I was family, too.

In our organization departing personnel received a large picture of the Pentagon surrounded by a wide white mat. The print and mat were circulated among the staff for comments, kudos, and farewells, then framed and presented to the departing person.

My father was especially pleased that one of his children was working in the Pentagon. When he was hospitalized in Corpus Christi, Texas, with congestive heart failure, I asked one of the officers if I could get the print matted for my father. He wanted to know more. I explained about my father’s condition and suggested that our Director, Major General Akin, might sign it. The officer said he’d see what he could do.

After a few days he presented me with a framed, matted print for my father.
Our Director was away, so took the picture to the next level. Lieutenant General Ross, the Deputy Chief of Staff for Logistics, a three-star general. General Ross personalized it.

MR FREDDIE FOUNTENO
Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Logistics
Headquarters Department of the Army, Pentagon, April 1991.
“Mr. Founteno, We share your pride in Jo and the super job she has done for the Army. She is clearly one of our best. Please accept with our compliments this symbol of our nation’s defense.”

One might suggest that the comments about me were exaggerated and I would not argue. My father was so pleased, he had a nurse post the framed print in the hallway outside his room so everyone going by could see it. He died May 9, 1991.

Great people are never too important or too busy to take time for others.

-Jo Condrill, CEO of GoalMinds, Inc., www.GoalMinds.com

What does it take for a woman to successfully lead a diverse group of seasoned personnel? The Secretary of the Army awarded Jo Condrill The Decoration for Exceptional Civilian Service. It is the highest award possible for a civilian employee.

I had finished my residency in Obstetrics and Gynecology two months prior and moved cross-country to start practicing my profession in California. I joined an established practice and a new medical assistant was hired to help care for the patients.  I hoped she would allay my patient’s fears and keep the schedule running on time by anticipating my needs and having the proper equipment ready.

During the four years of medical school and four years of postgraduate training in Ob/Gyn, nobody had taught me to be a boss. My assistants during my residency were registered nurses who had been working at that hospital for years. I swear they knew more about what I was supposed to do than I did. There was no “bossing” to be done by me!

Now in private practice, I was in completely new territory. Because I was 2500 miles away from everyone I knew, my fellow workers became my new family. I befriended this medical assistant and felt very “big sisterly” towards her.
And we seemed to work well together, until that day! On that day, the patient needed a biopsy of her uterus. The instruments for that procedure were in the supply room, not the exam room. My assistant needed to collect a variety of things to allow me to perform this procedure. She had assisted me with this procedure at least three times in the past. I assumed she knew what we needed and would bring everything into the room.

Well, you know what they say about assume! She did not bring everything. I was angry and insulted her in front of the patient by sending her out several times to get more supplies and instruments. We did, at last, accomplish the task and the patient was able to go home.

When I came out of the exam room, the office manager informed me that the medical assistant was so hurt by my treatment of her that she walked out the door and said she would NOT be coming back.

I was stunned! I had not anticipated the effect of my actions.

If I live to be a hundred, I’ll still remember Friday, January 28, 1983. It was a bright sunny day, and I blissfully sang “I’m on the top of the world!” off-key as I dressed for work.  The day before, the company physician had confirmed what I’d suspected for weeks–I was three months pregnant–and after two boys I felt it would be a girl this time.
I had other reasons for feeling like I was on the top of the world…

I’d been promoted three times in the past three years. Regional Training Manager David Keith was now my colleague instead of my boss. We both reported directly to the Human Resources Director, an elderly Englishman named Anthony Kennedy. Great buddies, Dave and I usually traveled together to Singapore and other Timex assembly locations in the Far East. I enjoyed my job with the Regional Human Resources Department so much that I sometimes felt guilty getting paid. (In fact, Mr. Kennedy had been nagging me for months to complete my self-appraisal form so my annual merit increase could be processed, but I kept on putting it off. “What’s the hurry?” I told him. “I’ll get a retroactive increase anyway.”)

Although it wasn’t part of my job, I was often tapped by the Regional Marketing and Sales Group to conduct customer service seminars for Timex watch dealers. I didn’t get any extra pay, and had to stay at my desk after hours to make up for the time I spent doing these seminars, but I tremendously enjoyed helping the Timex dealers and staff understand the unique V-movement in Timex watches and why we didn’t need jewels like other mechanical or analog watches.

I also taught part-time at the National College of Business and Arts (NCBA). To cater to the thousands of young assembly workers pursuing a college degree, NCBA had opened a campus right next door to Timex. Some ingenuous folks had even constructed wooden stairs over the concrete wall that separated Timex and NCBA, shaving off a few minutes from the walk out the Timex front gate, down the block, and into the NCBA campus.

My growing family lived in relative comfort. In fact, we had recently moved into a beautiful bungalow in San Mateo (Rizal), a town outside Metro Manila. The peace and quiet, not to mention breath-taking views of the sunset and the mountains, more than made up for the hour-long commute to/from the Timex watch assembly plant in Cubao, Quezon City.

Life was great, I thought to myself that fateful Friday in January 1983 as I bounded up the steps to the Regional Office, still humming “I’m on the top of the world” under my breath.

Even as the massive frosted glass doors slammed shut behind me, I knew that something was terribly wrong. The office was eerily quiet. There was none of the usual morning chatter as the regional staff got ready for another busy day. What was even more chilling was that the staff desks were all unoccupied, and the directors’ office doors were all closed (a rare sight in the “come-right-in-and-tell-me-what’s-on-your-mind” atmosphere of the regional office).
“Where’s everyone?” I quizzed Dave, glancing at all the empty desks. “In there,” he replied, gesturing towards the closed doors. He paused and then said with an inscrutable expression on his face, “The old man wants to see you.”
My heart pounding in my throat, I tremulously stepped into Mr. Kennedy’s office. There I learned the painful truth. Timex was closing down the Manila facility and consolidating its Philippine assembly operation in Cebu. I’d be losing my job by end of March. “But I’m three months pregnant!” I blurted out. Mr. Kennedy said there was nothing he could do. “Don’t worry, you’ll easily find another job,” he assured me.

I left Mr. Kennedy’s office in a daze and headed for the cafeteria. The hallway was filled with distraught assembly workers. Unlike me, these girls had been handed their final paychecks and asked to leave immediately. Some of them were wailing unabashedly, while others sobbed quietly as they gathered their personal belongings from their lockers. It was surreal. The words “I cried because I had no shoes, until I saw a man who had no feet,” came to my mind, as I forgot my own misery and tried to console the girls as best I could.

That weekend, I started sending out job applications and writing to headhunters. Nancy, a consultant with a leading search firm, echoed Mr. Kennedy’s assurance that I’d easily land another job – until I told her that I was pregnant. She promised to check with her clients and get back to me. I knew the answer even before she called. “I’m really sorry,” she apologized, “but my clients prefer someone who can work uninterrupted during their first year.” It was the same elsewhere. I’d get as far as the interview but the minute I mentioned I was pregnant the door would close. Some well-meaning friends advised me not to disclose that I was pregnant but I didn’t want to start a new job based on deception. I decided to stop wasting time, money, and effort on a futile–and extremely frustrating–job search, and wait until after I gave birth.

When March came and I got my final pay, I realized to my chagrin that through my own fault (neglecting my self-appraisal), my separation pay had been computed on my current (lower) base salary.  To make matters worst, the kids got sick and I needed to spend for lab tests and medicine. My bank account quickly dwindled down to zero. Fortunately, a nearby grocery store allowed me to buy food and other necessities on credit–but for how long?
I sold Avon products and Readers Digest subscriptions to help pay the bills. The only mails I received were window envelopes, some with “FINAL NOTICE” stamped in red. I didn’t have any money for a cake or ice-cream for my son’s fifth birthday, and it broke my heart.

Then, on May 26 (my birthday!), I received unexpected mail. I stared at the Abenson letterhead for some time, racking my brains for anyone I knew in the country’s largest appliance chain, before opening the envelope. The salutation read “To the Baby Maker, from the Profit Taker” and went on to say that Abenson was offering me the position of Human Resources Development Manager. It was a total surprise since I didn’t know anyone in Abenson but I soon learned that the Timex Marketing Director was also Abenson’s consultant, and the Timex watch dealership was owned by the same family.

So, while I waited to give birth to an adorable baby girl, I had a job waiting for me. I realized that I needed to LOSE my job to GAIN this managerial position. God does work in mysterious ways.

Being an eight-time entrepreneur, I can attest to the best business school courses worthy of consideration, with the lowest tuition yet the highest return. Some of the most valuable ethics were those role modeled by my mother. To support the family income, and to get her out of the house being a young stay-at-home mom, she was the door-to-door Avon lady. Since my two brothers were old enough to attend school, she carted me around on her weekly routes. Believe it or not, I was quite shy, so she made me meet people – which translated later into natural networking skills.

A few years later, to help put my brothers through college, mom starting selling Amway products, and our household was one of the first to use biodegradable products – a truly novel “green” concept at that time. When I was 14, she dragged me to an Amway “Revival” where I heard my first motivational speaker, Charlie “Tremendous” Jones. Today, we are colleagues in the National Speakers Association, and I’M a motivational speaker! From painfully shy to inspirationally high! (We never know where the seeds are going to be planted.)

From mom, I learned Midwestern values, work hard, show respect, do right, have integrity, help others, and what I now know as good old-fashioned customer service skills.

“Know what you want in life—and go for it.” A child of the Depression, at 18, mom moved herself from the farm in Iowa, with only $10, and her best girlfriend to “get a life” in California. She taught me about goal setting and visualization, without ever using the phrases. (I was named after that best girlfriend.)

“Be positive.” Attitude truly does make a difference in our ability to succeed—I’m convinced of that! In challenges where I have not yet developed the skills, it’s been having a positive attitude has catapulted me through the fears. As a speaker on the topic today, I believe that Faith is the “compass” of Attitude. We’ve also got to believe in ourselves.

“You can do anything you put your mind to.” A secret dream of Mom was to compete in the Olympics. At 68, she was selected to carry the Olympic Torch, on its way from San Diego to the 1984 Los Angeles Games. When I started a business at age 16 in the patio of my parents’ home, she encouraged and helped me with the silk-screening of t-shirts and bumper stickers. (My first “client” was the Shriners.)

 “Use what you’ve been given.” We each have skills, talents and unique abilities. As a youth, I was a graphic artist with a typewriter and mimeograph paper. (Remember those?) Mom constantly volunteered me to donate time designing the boating club and church newsletters. Later I earned four international design awards for newsletters (Top Ten in the world), have written five books and have presented seminars in eight countries on the topic. (It’s as if she knew…)

The best business school courses I’ve ever attended have been those in the classroom of life with Mom as my Teacher.

The thirteen colonies (what would become the United States) were being taxed unfairly under Great Britain’s rule. Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Robert R. Livingston and Roger Sherman were the five men that stood up for the Colonist’s rights. They argued that Great Britain had no jurisdiction to tax the Colonies.

There is a lot of information available to us at this time in history, more than ever before, and it travels fast. We are able to learn in the blink of an eye about something that happened halfway around the world, and it’s natural for us to want to know what’s going on.

However, it’s also fair to say that we don’t want to become so caught up in one way of looking at events that we lose perspective. Often, the news comes to us in a very fear-oriented format, and when too many of us get caught up in fear, the balance of the whole is disrupted.

It helps to remember that we have a much greater and more positive impact on the world when we maintain our inner sense of peace and joy.

We are aware enough to know when we are eating something that is not good for us, because we don’t feel well after we’ve eaten it. In the same way, we can determine for ourselves whether the sources in which our information comes are ultimately healthful. News can be presented in a way that inspires us to take positive action to help the world, or it can be presented in a way that leaves us feeling powerless and sad. It is up to us to seek out and support media that empowers and informs us, and to say no to media that drains our energy and our hope.

Every athlete needs to see THIS clip, from ESPN Sports.

Just because we can’t see something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, although this is a common way in which people deny the existence of spirit guides, angels, and other unseen helpers in our lives. However, anyone who has encountered such beings can attest to the fact that they do, indeed, exist, just as our breath exists, keeping us alive, even though we can’t see it. The wind exists, too, but we only know this because we feel it on our skin and hear it moving the leaves on the trees. All around us and within us are things we can’t see, and yet we know they are just as real as the grass beneath our feet.

What we see and don’t see may just be a matter of perspective, like the ladybug who sees the leaf on which she sits, but not the tree the leaf grows on, or the person sitting beneath it. And the person beneath the tree may or may not see the ladybug, depending on where he focuses his attention. Still, all of these things, whether seen or not seen by the person or the ladybug, exist in reality. Some people are more gifted at accessing that which we cannot see, but given an open and willing heart, anyone can tune into the invisible realm and begin to find their way.

Looking at the calendar I realize how close we are to the vernal equinox. Since Tita died last December, I have not taken a walk in my neighborhood. I just became aware of this; I have missed watching the trees at the end of Park Boulevard dance with the breeze, apparently unaware of their bareness, on this soon to end winter.

I have lived in University Heights for almost six years. Through all this time, Tita and I tried different routes on our daily walks but we always returned to the northernmost block of Park Boulevard. Tita loved being recognized and petted by the storekeepers along the street and I loved keeping track of the passage of the months by observing the trees lining the street. Those trees were the constant measure, the chart by which I knew the season we were in. Those trees marked consistently the perimeter of the circles in my life.

Whoever says we have no seasons in Southern California is not very observant. It doesn’t matter how much we humans wish to detach ourselves from nature, we possess an innate internal compass pointing toward it. This compass is not obvious to everyone. Most of us live life immersed in what we call “life and living;” our daily routines of ‘important’ jobs, superfluous diversions, inadequate nourishment for our physical survival, and a lack of awareness of who we are and what we are doing.

To keep it all in context, I wander through life watching the sun’s light change its hue, angle, and intensity; tracking the phases of the moon on the firmament; and absorbing the subtle changes around me. One thing I have observed so far, and of this I am certain: life is a puzzle of cycles, of circles. We journey through intellectual, physical, emotional, as well as spiritual cycles. And it all moves forth in such a flux of experiences that, oftentimes, we are unaware of their endless repetition.

Some of the cycles we go through that appear more relevant to some of us are the emotional cycles. Often, when we experience loss, we focus so much on loss that we do not realize it is only one aspect of a much greater cycle, but not its entirety. To experience loss, we have to experience its opposite, the prior absence in our lives of that which we have lost. We also dismiss the process by which what we lost came into our lives, how we became engaged and related with someone or something. The intensity with which we experience loss has to do not with a constant that applies to everybody, but with a variant that is our own individual perception of emotions and values.

I grew up in Mexico, where pets are not part of the family but rather third-class members of the household. I remember our poor dog, “Consentido”—his name means spoiled and trust me he was far from that—eating leftovers at the very end of our meals. There were no pet stores where one could walk in with a dog to buy toys, special food, treats, and all these things Americans afford their pets. Hell, for all I remember, we were struggling to feed ourselves!

Then I moved to the U.S. where I met Cuauhtli and Tizoc, two beautiful Xolo Izcuintle breeds who taught me a different way to relate to dogs. They were walked twice a day, ate special foods, and slept at night with Kish, their owner, who preferred to sleep with them instead of his human lover.

 A few years later, after I begged my friend Kish for a dog, and after I put up with him for months on end telling me I would never make a good parent, Tita, a perfect mix of Xolo and Italian Greyhound, arrived one Christmas day and life was never the same.

Falling in love with her was very easy. It was essentially love at first sight. I remember Kish walking in with this tiny, dark charcoal-colored bundle in his arms. He laid her on the floor; she looked up at me and then started shaking violently. She was afraid of those strange surroundings. My parental instincts kicked in instantly.

Kish told me I needed to find a name for her. I didn’t hesitate for a moment—the scene in my favorite movie, Like Water for Chocolate, in which the main character, Tita, had been beaten by her mother and was hiding in the dove cot, where the doctor came and found her shaken and bloody, came rushing to my head—and in one breath I said, “Her name is Tita.” Never mind that was the name we grew up calling my older sister. In Mexico it is not considered an honor to have a pet named after a human, particularly a family member, but I did it anyway. That was the first huge sign that my attitude towards pets had changed greatly.

Staying in love with Tita was not as easy; it was somewhat challenging at times. I look back now and I can think of more than one thing I would happily give to relive the same situations all over again.

I remember her as a puppy, waking me up in the middle of the night. I would get up thinking she needed to go out to do her business, but she would look at me happily wagging her tail and all she wanted to do was play. She did this at two or three a.m. I must tell you here that I am a Leo. You can mess with anything but my meals and my sleep; so you can imagine how ‘excited’ I was.

I also remember taking her to the park one cold winter morning. She was wearing her brand new sweater when she took off running and disappeared for a while. After I saw no sign of her coming back to me as she always did, I started calling her. She returned covered in human poop, proud as could be, and very eager to kiss me showing off her newest favorite scent. I was irate. I threw her in the back of my red pick up, took her home, and hosed her down with freezing water—I know, all of you dog-lovers hate me right now…but it worked. She never did that again. She would find poop along our walks and she would pretend it wasn’t a big deal; and she made sure I saw her ignore the poop.

Then there was the time she ran right into a cactus and came back to me screaming with needles all over her butt. When she tried to take them out with her mouth she got them on her tongue also. So I sat there, on the side of the road, plucking needles out of my dog’s mouth and butt. She cried with every needle I pulled out.

It was not only trouble she got into. She would also make me feel very special. Anyone who has a dog knows about those welcome-home displays of happiness from the little ones. When I was coping with my mother’s passing, Tita would lick my tears at night whenever I was having some distressing dream and woke up crying. There were also those times when I would catch her looking at me as if I was the most beautiful and perfect thing on the face of the earth. I don’t know if she was thinking of a juicy steak but it certainly felt good to be looked at that way.

I watched her grow old and slow down. All that energy she had as a puppy and as a younger dog was gone. A calm ease took over her and she was content staying on the sofa, always looking at me, always trying to take in as much of me as she could. I would go to work and leave the soft music playing for her all day long. When I returned, I would find her on the couch in a reverie, drooling all over the pillow.

When she was diagnosed with cancer, I promised her I was not going to let her suffer while I told myself that I was going to be strong and live up to that promise.

She had surgery one morning in late September. I went to the veterinary to pick her up in the evening expecting a limp dog, all drugged and knocked out. I found a very happy and alert Tita, wagging her tail, excited to see me. When we got home, I looked at her and she reminded me of an old stuffed animal with many stitches on her belly. I felt very sad. I told myself she would be fine and I told her she better hang around for a few more years. She looked great during the following days and I believed she would be around for a good, long time. A couple of months later I realized I was in denial when I saw her energy drop and her health decline rapidly.

Some people believe in reincarnation but I do not know what to believe in that regard. Lately I have been reflecting on my life repeatedly and I realize I have gone through so many seasons, so many cycles that I feel I have lived several lives and I have traveled a long, long way. Internally, physically, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually, I think of myself as an ancient tree: I have a ring for every one of the lives I have lived. Tita is one of those rings, one of the bigger ones perhaps.

Life does present itself to us in cycles, in circles. Things, people, friends, lovers, and yes, pets also, come into our lives and leave an indelible mark on us. We are left transformed forever when they leave us. At one point, it will be us who will leave others, and we become another season, another cycle or circle in someone else’s life.

I had Tita put down early on December 9, 2005. It was one of the saddest days in my life. The previous two nights we didn’t sleep well. She struggled to go outside to do her business on the first night, and on the second night she peed, pooped, and threw up all around even though she had not eaten for three days. She looked at me and I could see in her eyes how sorry she was, embarrassed perhaps—we tend to anthropomorphize our pets too much sometimes—but I knew the time I feared the most had come. At 3:00 a.m., I made the decision I was going to call the veterinarian in the morning and went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep.

When I came back from the veterinarian my cultural beliefs in dealing with the deceased took over me and I made a shrine with Tita’s picture, her collar, flowers, candles, food and water. I also kept her bed intact for three months and I have allowed myself to cry as I please.

“Our life is an apprentice to the truth that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn risen on mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens. There are no fixtures in nature. The universe is fluid and volatile. Permanence is but a word of degrees,” Ralph Waldo Emerson also wrote.

I know that another pet will come into my life, a wonderful pet indeed, because there is a history that is waiting to be repeated; there is a circle whose circumference must encompass some of me, there is a cycle that cries to be circumvented again. I also know that I will not forget my beautiful companion of ten years; an unforgettable animal soul that taught me about love and responsibility, a dog that tamed me, trained me, and made me hers.

This spring equinox I will walk the 4600 block of Park Boulevard in University Heights, I will look at the trees lining the street, I will think of Tita when I see on them the new growths, the harbingers of yet another season, and I shall smile and rejoice.

Today I will make a difference. I will begin by controlling my thoughts. A person is the product of their thoughts. I want to be happy and hopeful. Therefore, I will have thoughts that are happy and hopeful. I refuse to be victimized by my circumstances. I will not let petty inconveniences such as stoplights, long lines, and traffic jams be my masters. I will avoid negativism and gossip. Optimism will be my companion, and victory will be my hallmark. Today I will make a difference.

I will be grateful for the twenty-four hours that are before me. Time is a precious commodity. I refuse to allow what little time I have to be contaminated by self-pity, anxiety, or boredom. I will face this day with the joy of a child and the courage of a giant. I will drink each minute as though it is my last. When tomorrow comes, today will be gone forever. While it is here, I will use it for loving and giving. Today I will make a difference.

I will not let past failures haunt me. Even though my life is scarred with mistakes, I refuse to rummage through my trash heap of failures. I will admit them. I will correct them. I will press on. Victoriously. No failure is fatal. It’s OK to stumble – I will get up. It’s OK to fail – I will rise again. Today I will make a difference.

I will spend time with those I love. My spouse, my children, my family. A man can own the world but be poor for the lack of love. A man can own nothing and yet be wealthy in relationships. Today I will spend at least five minutes with the significant people in my world. Five quality minutes of talking or hugging or thanking or listening. Five undiluted minutes with my mate, children, and friends. Today I will make a difference.