Harbor Pilots

Staff meetings can be brain-numbing affairs that, when finally over, propel you to the nearest window for a breath of fresh air. Some meetings, however, leave you captivated. I have a vivid recollection of a staff meeting in Colorado, during my days as a radio co-host. Our general manager, Jack, opened the meeting with a brief talk on Harbor Pilots.
I'll never forget it.
A Harbor Pilot, Jack explained, is a demanding job, and not for the faint of heart. This person has a seaworthy disposition, a keen understanding of hidden reefs, shallows, choppy waters and rocks in the bay. His actual job is to motor out, in a small boat, to assist the incoming ships before they reach port. That's the easy part.
Once he is within range he leaves his little boat and shimmies up a 30-some-foot rope ladder that has been flung down the side of the larger vessel.
The Harbor Pilot then takes over the wheel, steering the ship safely in. Although the captain of the ship is a skilled navigator with a steady hand, he really needs help in smaller, unknown harbors. That's why he needs the Harbor Pilot -- to steer around the hazards, the shallows, the murky areas only a local can understand. After the ship is anchored and securely moored beside the docks, the Harbor Pilot can return to his cozy office, his coffee, and perhaps even the mundane necessity of a staff meeting.
What Jack wanted us to "get" was the magnificence of this unsung hero. Daily, and sometimes in very stormy weather, this particular pilot climbs onto big ships and steers them to safety. He shows up in all conditions -- smooth sailing or fierce waves --to come alongside, to interpret current conditions, to take over the helm.
Also, and just as remarkable, this is what YOU do when you come alongside a friend who is floundering in unknown waters. You shimmy up the side of the boat, climb in, explain how it is, interpret the shallows and steer around the dangerous rocks when needed. You are a true friend when you do this -- a Harbor Pilot to a Comrade in the shallows. Please! Keep that motorboat fueled and ready for action. And know that you are doing sacred work in the lives of those who are counting on you to reach solid ground.

Harbor Pilots

Staff meetings can be brain-numbing affairs that, when finally over, propel you to the nearest window for a breath of fresh air. Some meetings, however, leave you captivated. I have a vivid recollection of a staff meeting in Colorado, during my days as a radio co-host. Our general manager, Jack, opened the meeting with a brief talk on Harbor Pilots.
I'll never forget it.
A Harbor Pilot, Jack explained, is a demanding job, and not for the faint of heart, either. This person has a seaworthy disposition, a keen understanding of hidden reefs, shallows, choppy watters and rocks in the bay. His actual job is to motor out, in a small boat, to assist the incoming ships before they reach port. That's the easy part. Once he is within range he leaves his little boat and shimmies up a rope ladder that has been flung down the side of the larger vessel.
The Harbor Pilot then takes over the wheel, steering the ship safely into harbor. Although the captain of the ship is a skilled navigator with a steady hand, he really needs help in smaller, unknown harbors. That's why he needs the Harbor Pilot -- to steer around the hazards, the shallows, the murky areas only a local can understand.
After the ship is anchored and securely moored beside the docks, the Harbor Pilot can return to his cozy office, his coffee, and perhaps even the mundane necessity of a staff meeting.
What Jack wanted us to "get" was the magnificence of this unsung hero. Daily, and sometimes in very stormy weather, this particular pilot climbs onto big ships and steers them to safety. He shows up in all conditions -- smooth sailing or fierce waves -- to come alongside, to interpret current conditions, to take over the helm.
Also, and just as remarkable, this is what YOU do when you come alongside a friend who is floundering in unknown waters. You shimmy up the side of the boat, climb in, explain how it is, interpret the shallows and steer around the dangerous rocks when needed. You are a true friend when you do this -- a Harbor Pilot to a Comrade in the shallows. Please! Keep that motorboat fueled and ready for action. And know that you are doing sacred work in the lives of those who count on you to reach solid ground.

Hidden Confetti

Sometimes you just need a bit of sparkly stuff to lift the spirits. For instance, there was this dreary Spring day and I was kicking around in Youngsville, running errands. My mind was on autopilot as I ran hither and yon, gathering necessary things for the family household and that night's supper. As I splashed into a watercolor world of puddles and raindrops, something caught my eye. Leaning down for a closer look, I was rewarded with a tiny metallic rocking horse. It was pink and gleaming and irresistible; a speck of color on a gray canvas.
At that time I had a volunteer radio show on WTMV-Youngsville, a studio operated out of a refurbished livingroom on East Main. I remember telling my listeners about the confetti piece and comparing it to unseen treasures all around us -- secrets shimmering just below the surface "stuff" of living. It may take a little effort, but it's worth a closer look. Your "confetti" surprise might be very different from mine -- it may be the warm company of a rich memory, or maybe the trusting hand of a child's in yours. Your spark of hope, your confetti, may be a smile across a room, a promise in the Bible, a sea salt breeze, a letter in the mail. Whatever it may be, take time today to notice. Be aware of wonder. Lean down, take a moment, and linger in that discovery. Before too long, you'll be carrying around a generous shower of confetti to sprinkle on someone else who needs a lift.
A rainy day, a radio studio, the smell of wet dog (the station manager's great dane, resting his giant solemn head on my knee)...these memories are keen in my heart, punctuated with an odd bit of hidden confetti.