by Leo Tolstoy

One day it occurred to a certain emperor that if he only knew the answer to three questions, he would never stray in any matter.

What is the best time to do each thing? Who are the most important people to work with? What is the most important thing to do at all times?

The emperor issued a decree throughout his kingdom announcing that whoever could answer the questions would receive a great reward. Many who read the decree made their way to the palace at once, each person with a different answer.

In reply to the first question, one person advised that the emperor make a thorough time schedule, consecrating every hour, day, month, and year for certain tasks and then follow the schedule to the letter. Only then could he hope to do every task at the right time.

Another person replied that it was impossible to plan in advance and that the emperor should put all vain amusements aside and remain attentive to everything in order to know what to do at what time.

Someone else insisted that, by himself, the emperor could never hope to have all the foresight and competence necessary to decide when to do each and every task and what he really needed was to set up a Council of the Wise and then to act according to their advice.

Someone else said that certain matters required immediate decision and could not wait for consultation, but if he wanted to know in advance what was going to happen he should consult magicians and soothsayers.

The responses to the second question also lacked accord.

One person said the emperor needed to place all his trust in administrators, another urged reliance on priests and monks, while others recommended physicians. Still others put their faith in warriors.

The third question drew a similar variety of answers. Some said science was the most important pursuit. Others insisted on religion. Yet others claimed the most important thing was military skill.

The emperor was not pleased with any of the answers, and no reward was given.

After several nights of reflection, the emperor resolved to visit a hermit who lived up on the mountain and was said to be an enlightened man. The emperor wished to find the hermit and to ask him the three questions, though he knew the hermit never left the mountains and was known to receive only the poor, refusing to have anything to do with persons of wealth and power. So the emperor disguised himself as a simple peasant and ordered his attendants to wait for him at the foot of the mountain while he climbed the slope alone to seek the hermit.

Reaching the holy man's dwelling place, the emperor found the hermit digging a garden in front of his hut. When the hermit saw the stranger, he nodded his head in greeting and continued to dig. The labour was obviously hard on him. He was an old man, and each time he thrust his spade into the ground to turn the earth, he heaved heavily.

The emperor approached him and said, "I have come here to ask your help with three questions: When is the best time to do each thing? Who are the most important people to work with? What is the most important thing to do at all times?"

The hermit listened attentively but only patted the emperor on the shoulder and continued digging. The emperor said, "You must be tired. Here, let me give you hand with that." The hermit thanked him, handed the emperor a spade, and then sat down on the ground to rest.

After he had dug two rows, the emperor stopped and turned to the hermit and repeated his three questions. The hermit still did not answer, but instead stood up and pointed to the spade and said, "Why don't you rest now? I can take over again." But the emperor continued to dig. One hour passed, then two. Finally the sun began to set behind the mountain. The emperor put down the spade and said to the hermit, "I came to ask if you could answer my three questions. But if you can't give me any answer, please let me know so that I can get on my way home."

The hermit lifted his head and asked the emperor, "Do you hear someone running over there?" The emperor turned his head. They both saw a man with a long white beard emerge from the woods. He ran wildly, pressing his hands against a bloody wound in the stomach. The man ran toward the emperor before falling unconscious to the ground, where he lay groaning. Opening the man's clothing, the emperor and hermit saw that the man had received a deep gash. The emperor cleaned the wound thoroughly and then used his own shirt to bandage it, but the blood completely soaked it within minutes. He rinsed the shirt out and bandaged the wound a second time and continued to do so until the flow of blood had stopped.

At last the wounded man regained consciousness and asked for a drink of water. The emperor ran down to the stream and brought back a jug of fresh water. Meanwhile, the sun had disappeared and the night air had begun to turn cold. The hermit gave the emperor a hand in carrying the man into the hut where they laid him down on the hermit's bed. The man closed his eyes and lay quietly. The emperor was worn out from the long day of climbing the mountain and digging the garden. Leaning against the doorway, he fell asleep. When he rose, the sun had already risen over the mountain. For a moment he forgot where he was and what he had come here for. He looked over to the bed and saw the wounded man also looking around him in confusion. When he saw the emperor, he stared at him intently and then said in a faint whisper, "Please forgive me."

"But what have you done that I should forgive you?" the emperor asked.

"You do not know me, your majesty, but I know you. I was your sworn enemy, and I had vowed to take vengeance on you, for during the last war you killed my brother and seized my property. When I learned that you were coming alone to the mountain to meet the hermit, I resolved to surprise you on your way back to kill you. But after waiting a long time there was still no sign of you, and so I left my ambush in order to seek you out. But instead of finding you, I came across your attendants, who recognized me, giving me this wound. Luckily, I escaped and ran here. If I hadn't met you I would surely be dead by now. I had intended to kill you, but instead you saved my life. I am ashamed and grateful beyond words. If I live, I vow to be your servant for the rest of my life, and I will bid my children and grandchildren to do the same. Please grant me your forgiveness."

The emperor was overjoyed to see that he was so easily reconciled with a former enemy. He not only forgave the man, but promised to return all the man's property and to send his own physician and servants to wait on the man until he was completely healed. After ordering his attendants to take the man home, the emperor returned to see the hermit. Before returning to the palace the emperor wanted to repeat his three questions one last time. He found the hermit sowing seeds in the earth they had dug the day before.

The hermit stood up and looked at the emperor. "But your questions have already been answered."

"How's that?" the emperor asked, puzzled.

"Yesterday, if you had not taken pity on my age and given me a hand with digging these beds, you would have been attacked by that man on your way home. Then you would have deeply regretted not staying with me. Therefore the most important time was the time you were digging the beds, the most important person was myself, and the most important pursuit was to help me. Later, when the wounded man ran up here, the most important time was the time you spent dressing his wound, for if you had not cared for him he would have died and you would have lost the chance to be reconciled with him. Likewise, he was the most important person, and the most important pursuit was taking care of his wound. Remember that there is only one important time and it is NOW. The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion. The most important person is always the person with whom you are, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future. The most important pursuit is making that person, the one standing at your side, happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life."

My darling 12 and a half year old Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier, Angus, was diagnosed with terminal, inoperable Oral Cancer on August 6, 2009, but is still in fine enough shape for now to be with us a while longer. He's just in need of some special consideration and TLC. I've started pureeing Angus' food in the blender for the first time yesterday.

Picture this: It's 7:00 a.m. and I'm dollopping his lumpy food into the blend with a little warm water. The food bubble won't pop in the middle/the vortex, and it keeps mounting. I open the lid, while the blender is still operating, and poke a hole into the middle of the pureed guck and POP!...pureed dog food ALL OVER ME! All over my face, in my hair and even under my eye lids! Yuck! It was just like that Jerry Seinfeld episode where Jerry's girlfriend looks into the toilet bowl because she hears a noise percolating in there and then the thing explodes on her...and poor Jerry can't stomach the idea of dating her any longer because she's been covered with toilet water and he's such a germ-a-phobe. Funny, eh--about ME, but YUCK!, all the same!

So that's how my September 22nd, 2009 business day STARTED.

THEN, at 8:30a.m. I ran an errand in my car. I've noticed for several days now that I must have a little spider in somewhere in my car, because every morning there are little spider webs strewn around. I'm driving back from my errand and right in the middle of singing along to a radio tune (Eric Carmen's Hungry Eyes from, Dirty Dancing), down came a BIG spider--I mean BIG!--right in FRONT OF MY FACE! It was all I could do to pull over, grab the web and try to shoo the thing our of my car! It fell in my lap, then on the floor and then, finally, I swooshed it out the car, all without killing the little beastie (I've finally arrived at a point in my life where I don't kill little things unless I really must). If this episode was a movie, I'm sure the audience would have just been howling!

So, I'm thinking there must be some sort of Candid Camera on me today. Punked? Or maybe a Just for Laughs crew out there having a good laugh at my expense? Or maybe it's just GOD having some cosmic fun with me today. Regardless, I feel I've been in TWO comedy skits--at my expense--so far this day and it's not even 10 a.m.! I'll be looking over my shoulder the rest of the day, I'm sure (and, perhaps because of the Careful What You Wish For Philosophy, I may just end up with some more funny tales to tell). I wonder what other outrageous antics may be in the stars for me this September 22nd, eh???

So! May YOU have as funny a day as I seem to be having so far! :)

And remember this: Alfred Hitchcock used to say that drama was just regular life with the boring parts cut out. Well Comedy is sort of the same--yes?

Hope you have a laugh or two or three today!

Yesterday at the gas station a woman locked herself out of her car while it was still running (purse and keys inside). A man offered to help her (he, coincidentally was a locksmith and had the means)...for $30.00!!! I commented that it would be nicer if he helped her just to be kind...to be chivalrous??? He said that in this economy he had to make a buck anyway he could and that, "How else am I going to pay for my locksmith's license?" So what??? He cruises gas stations on Sunday mornings hoping to find people who've locked themselves out of their cars??? This is his business strategy for making money/for earning a living???

I suggested to this damsel-in-distress that her $30.00 would be better put to use towards a CAA membership, which she could get on-the-spot and, at the same time, receive her first service. I've been a die-hard member since 1975 and have now lost track regarding how many times they've helped me out of tight spots over the years, from battery charging, highway flats to, yes, even rescuing my dog from inside the car, in winter, when the new fangled electronic doors spontaneously locked.

When the locksmith heard me suggest CAA as an alternate to his "services" (that would take money out of his pocket and put it elsewhere), he retorted, "Okay, okay. Since you're in a spot, and it's an old car, I'll do it for $20.00!" As if being an older car had anything to do with it. This "business man" was clueless! He certainly didn't have a proper brain for growing his business (nor, seemingly, a chivalrous bone in his body). He didn't get the bigger picture...that maybe this stranded-at-the-gas-station woman would have sang his heroic praises for days (and maybe weeks and months) afterwards, to lots of neighbours, friends and colleagues, perhaps even going on to book him to change all her house locks the very next day, thereby, giving him a much bigger pay day, tomorrow, than the $20.00 to $30.00 he was trying to hustle today!

The woman took my advice and called CAA (who, on a sleepy Sunday spring morning, arrived with a smile and that neat door opening tool, in less than 10 minutes!). A bad news story turned into a good news story for this woman; she now has all kinds of 27/7 roadside coverage down the metaphoric and literal road. And as for that locksmith shyster, well, he lost...everything.

Whether it's helping out a person at a gas station on a Sunday morning, assisting a fellow colleague with their overwhelming workload when you have time to spare or linking up an in-between-jobs friend with others in your networking circle or business community, lend a generous hand, as the old Bronwnie's motto used encourage...anyway you can. Now, more than ever, is the time for all good people to come to the aid of those in need. It'll be good for their sprit and for your soul.

When I was in high school I heard a saying that really stuck with me:

Be careful whose fingers you step on, on your way up the ladder because you just might meet them on your way down."

I recall, years ago, the hard slogging, in-the-trenches days of prospecting clients one phone call and one meeting at a time when I was first started out as an independent speaker. These were the days before emails and websites and such. Back in those earliest of days the fanciest business electronics were fax machines and phones (well, the computer, too; I'm not THAT old!). Every day I worked the phone and my networks to secure opportunities to be of service to potential clients who were, indeed, looking for the kind of services I provided. I recall wooing one particular corporate connection, as I'd heard on good authority that this client may well have been looking for the kind of speaking service. Her name was Sylvia and when I called to make my initial introductions she was cool and said she couldn't talk right then but, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to my follow up the next day. When I called back the next day, she gave me that same line and we proceeded with this game for a few more go arounds. After leaving things alone for two weeks I followed up once again (as every entrepreneur knows, in the early days of business the follow up is everything!). Now I was only ever able to reach her voice mail...no matter how many times I tried. About a month later still, I followed up yet again. Voice mail purgatory persisted. Apparently Sylvia had slipped into a fissure in the space/time continuum and I was becoming convinced she no longer really existed. Months and months later, I thought I'd try again. Sylvia finally did answer the phone--I was like a dog with a bone about the follow up back then, never understanding why people just couldn't practice the concept of, "No means No"...just tell me "no" and I'll stop!). Sylvia passively aggressively "blew me off", as the expression goes, in a frosty and brusk fashion about being too busy to talk to me, virtually forever. I made a literal note to self and moved on finally, surrendering to the philosophy, "Some will, some won't So what-next!". Then came the day when a different saying came to be played out between us. The saying of, 'What goes around comes around."

A dear friend of mine makes her professional contribution as an executive coach. One day, years after my Sylvia experience, above, I received a call from my friend, asking:

"Nina, I'm working with a terrific ex-senior executive who has been downsized and has left the corporate world. She's gone entrepreneurial now, and because I've told her of your own wonderful success transiting years ago from corporate life to a self-employed, entrepreneurial focus, I've encouraged her to have a chat with you...if you'd be open this, of course."

Well, even back then, I was always very generous and kind sharing my time in this regard, and always available to do a favour for a client or any friend or acquaintance from my circle. So, of course, I said, "Sure, what's her name?" Sylvia _____. Thud. Hmm. I was immediately transported back in time. It was the same person I'd come up against in my first year of entrepreneurial life.! What were the odds? And you know what? Even though today I would have risen above my old scabbed-over-wound and nose-out-of-joint tender professional ego and helped this Sylvia person (if only for my friend's sake...because she'd asked me), back then I just wasn't enlightened or forgiving enough, or whatever, to say, "yes". I reneged. Couldn't bring myself to help out a person in the now, who would not help me back then. Back then Sylvia demonstrated no common professional courtesy in her words nor manner towards my enquiries. No grace or kindness in her demeanor all those years ago. No concern then about how long another's memory of her may last. I just wasn't big enough back then to rise above, take the high road and help. Today I would, but not back then.

So, Lesson 1: "Be careful whose fingers you step on, on your way up your corporate career ladder, because you just might meet them on your way down."

Lesson 2: "What goes around often really does come around."

My advice: be professionally nice and helpful and giving and caring to others as best you sincerely can now because it's the right thing to do--because you can and should. But if you can't do that for all the right reasons, consider rising above personal pettiness and helping another for the self-serving/self-centered reasons of your own potentially challenged professional future. You just never know when it's going to be your turn one day. And maybe on such a day--since we all have call display now--if you do choose to follow my above advice, someone who you hope will generously give you a leg up, will see it's you calling and pick up.

My grade 9 history teacher taught me an important and even profound life lesson, all those years ago, about appreciating what you have right now. I'd received a mark of 29 out of 30 on a term test. While debriefing the test with is class, my teacher explained, question-by-question, how he awarded marks. From that, I was convinced I'd been short-changed and should have, in fact, received a perfect 30/30. Once the bell rang and the class had cleared, I somewhat cockily and self-assuredly approached Mr. K to point out that, in my opinion (based on what he explained in class that day), he'd made a mistake and should have awarded me that one sweet, additional mark, granting me the perfection I deserved. As an adult, I can so clearly now see his perspective but, as a 14 year old, I could not.

This is what happened next: Mr. K gave me a good stare. It was hard to read his face. He took the paper from my hand, had a long re-read of my answers (which I interpreted as a good sign) and then declared, "Ha! Look here, Nina, I shouldn't have given you a mark right here, for this question, at all! What was I thinking?" He promptly took out his red pen, scratched out the 29/30 mark at the top of my page and replaced it with a 28! What was a skinny little nine-r to do? He then punctuated his point by saying, "You'd better get out of here now, before I find another mark to deduct!" Touché -- I don't think I knew that French expression back in 1971, but I certainly felt its sentiment. I scooted out of that classroom with wings on my feet and never looked back...and also never again asked Mr. K, nor any other teacher, for that matter, for a one-mark-better grade, when I'd already been awarded one of which to be proud!

At work, just as at school, sometimes you've just got to know when to, "take the money and run"...to say, "I'll stick, thank-you very much!"...and be sincerely happy with what you've got! J

Mr. K has recently passed away and, although he wasn't one of my absolute favourite teachers, he was one that taught me a terrific life lesson. Perhaps he was one of my best teachers, after all.

Back on March 13, 2007 the Globe and Mail newspaper ran a little ditty on its fun and quirky Social Studies page that revealed, "In Japan, fortune tellers are advising those who want to be successful in life (and at work) to start by scrubbing the bathroom (reported by Reuters). Apparently a recently published Japanese book entitled, Cleaning the Toilet to Attract Luck, is the latest in a series advising readers on how to attract good fortune with a brush and has been keenly covered in magazines and television programs. Linking a clean toilet to good fortune, and perhaps even greater beauty, has existed in Japan for many years, so says book editor Yuka Soma.

"Hmm", I thought, "...sounds like a manipulative plot to get the bathroom spick and spanned more often, if you ask me!" Still, like buying a lottery ticket when you hear the pot's a really big one, I found that come that very night, I couldn't resist getting out the Mr. Clean and giving my toilet a good swish around the ole bowl before lights out. And whaddaya think happened the very next day? Even before I arrived at my desk, I'd received two emails and one voice mail wishing to book my services!

Now I know what you're thinking--coincidence...serendipity...spring's a predictable time of year for booking a lot of engagements; all true. Still...it was kind of fun to think that scrubbing the toilet--and doing so with pleasure rather than pain--had something to do with this good fortune. And so I did it the next night; and the following day...another firmly booked keynote engagement seemingly fell in my lap. No kidding! Needless to say, like a ballplayer who won't change his socks when on a lucky streak, I've been scrubbing away nightly now. And, although that same rhythm of booking hasn't quite kept up with the number of scrubs I've completed, I guess my luck has continued because my toilet bowl has never been cleaner! J

You know, quiet meditation and contemplation can happen when you perform--in joyful and purposeful ways--activities you would otherwise call boring, dreaded or undesirable chores (and, trust me, until recently, I've always considered cleaning the toilet bowl as an undesirable chore!). It reminds me of a poignant scene from the movie Gandhi, in which the Mahatma (played by Ben Kingsley) berates his wife and threatens to throw her out of the commune if she will not do her dutiful rotation of cleaning the latrine. She insists this work is beneath her and is only fit for the "untouchables". Gandhi sternly educates his wife in the necessities of a healthy and fully functioning "team" (my word not his), declaring that all of the commune's members must perform all of the necessary jobs and chores, and must do so with joy and appreciation of the contribution that each role offers. With new awareness, Mrs. Gandhi gladly, then, accepts and participates in cleaning the latrine, thanks to this split-second moment of enlightenment prompted by her wise husband's clear vision and deep understanding of the bigger picture of a fully functioning and loving unit.

In today's workplace--especially in the largest of organizations--it may not be feasible for each member of any given team to know how to perform all of the unit's functions. Fair enough. But, if you can't perform all of the various roles, at least you can have conscious and periodically articulated appreciation of those functions and the people who perform them. Such is the case with administrative professionals and support staff. Now I'm not saying that the administrative professional's' job is likened to "cleaning the latrine"--a job no one else wants to perform--but I am saying that, often times, the administrative professionals' important function seems to go unnoticed (just like a clean latrine often goes unnoticed and, let's face it...it's sometimes a "dirty" job, but someone's gotta do it"!).

Now is the time--right now, during Administrative Professionals' Week, April 23rd - 27th, and Admin Professionals' Day on Wednesday, April 25th--to stop taking these values members of our workplace teams for granted and give them the praise and metaphoric (and even literal) standing ovations they so well deserve. Who knows, by sincerely and authentically doing so--just like the earlier mentioned and recently reported Japanese toilet-cleaning superstition--your luck may very well improve; and even if it doesn't, you've done a good turn in acknowledging valued and often unsung members of your team. So, go on...praise and scrub away!

The trouble with doing something right the first time is that nobody appreciates how difficult it was. -- Author unknown, but probably an Administrative Professional!

No one who achieves success does so without acknowledging the help of others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude. -- Author Unknown

I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks. -- William Shakespeare

Next to excellence is the appreciation of it. -- William Makepeace

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. -- William Arthur Ward

Appreciation is a wonderful thing. It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well. -- Voltaire

Appreciate everything your associates do for the business. Nothing else can quite substitute for a few well-chosen, well-timed, sincere words of praise. They're absolutely free and worth a fortune. -- Author Unknown

My Eulogy for my Dear Friend Dianna Barrett

March 7, 1956 - December 1, 2008

Dianna hated winter. Correction. She hated Canadian winters...but loved winters anywhere south of, let's say, the 25 parallel! So, knowing this, I guess we shouldn't be too surprised to see she chose to depart this earthly plane at the start of the month that heralds the official season of ice and snow. I bet right now she's saying, "See ya...wouldn't want to be ya!".

So here we are, then, today...gathering to celebrate Dianna's escape from yet another Canadian winter but, more importantly, appropriately and joyously, to celebrate her fabulous life.

We come together on this day to remember the life, both temporal and eternal, of one heck of an amazing woman that we have loved so dearly. As the littlest sister-- affectionately called by her family, "Baby D"-as a friend, as a lover, a colleague, a tireless community volunteer, as a teacher...as a person, Dianna lived in our hearts and shall live there forever more.

We release what was, and make room for what shall be, as we testify within our minds that Dianna's life does not end, but merely transmutes; that today we say a good-bye to the physical focus of our relationship with Dianna, and greet the relationship with her soul that now begins anew. Through the grace of God, the dead do not die. They live forever, in God's mind and in ours.

And so it is that our service today is two-fold: We are here to release what has been, the very human dramas of our love for Dianna, our shared stories, our histories. Yet we also open our hearts today, that our continuing relationship with her might be reborn with newly defined parameters.

Some 25 years ago, one of the earliest sayings I recall Dianna sagely imparting to me was, "Behold the tortoise, who only makes progress when she sticks her neck out." Among so many other pearls of wisdom, Dianna lived her life by "sticking her neck out" and daring to do things--time and time again-in ways others would never dream. When I think, in that David Letterman sort of way, of my top 10 words describing Dianna, my knee-jerk first set includes:

1. authentic
2. honest
3. loving
4. loyal
5. empathic
6. funny
7. eloquent
8. learned
9. reflective and
10. deeply spiritual...

And I just bet your 10 would only expand on mine. The truth is, 10 words just aren't enough to describe what Dianna brought to each and everyone of us, nor to the world.

My 11th word to describe Dianna is, FEARLESS. Not that she didn't experience fear on occasion, I'm sure, but she always found a way to move forth, regardless.

She also championed the philosophy of, "Feel the fear and do it anyway." And that she did! Her way. And, yet another saying I can still hear her sharing: "Better to make a mistake with the full force of your being, rather than carefully avoid making any errors all the days of your life, and not really living at all."

To be fearless requires trust and courage, and these qualities, too, Dianna demonstrated in abundance.

She came to Canada, under the loving and watchful eye of her surrogate mother and biggest sister, Mearle, when she was only 16 years old...and to university, then, at that! The plan was, she would stay until the end of her studies and then return home to Jamaica. That was the plan...the agreement. But it wasn't to pass. When graduation day came and went, Baby D wanted to stay...and although her mum and dad vehemently protested (she told me that her dad was ready to hop a plane and drag her back home!), in the end, what "Baby D wanted, Baby D got!" And so Dianna stayed...and, blessed fortune for us, made our lives all the richer for having done so.

This was a woman who had such power, such charisma, such eloquence and authority of voice, that she could charm the pants off just about anyone...and could, most every time out, turn "no's" into "yeses!" with relative ease. No wonder we all wanted to be near her! She was magic. Case in point: Just an everyday sort of story, but with a Dianna/Dyavati twist...one day, not too long ago, she was traveling eastbound, mid-block, on the Queen Street Streetcar (no where near the next stop). All of a sudden, through the window, she spotted two old friends on the street that she hadn't seen in ages-Hazel and Danny. Without a moment's hesitation she jumped up, and in front of everyone, hollered to the driver, "Stop the street car, please stop the street car!...I see two dear friends I haven't seen in ages and I've just got to reach them!" Well what do you think happened next? The driver stopped, mid-block, just for our Di! That was our Dianna...our Dyavati...a woman with enough chutzpah and personal power to halt a downtown, fully packed, rush-hour street car, cold.

Although holding a special place in her Barrett family's heart (as "baby" of the clan), Mearle shared that, as a child, Dianna, oftentimes, had to make do with her own company for play. That didn't stop her one bit! In fact, it may well have informed Dianna's early and life long sense of independence. She didn't have any playmates? No problem. She created a whole classroom of them by playing teacher in the garden and declaring the plants her pupils! And, if any of those plant-students got out of line, she made sure to give them the good whipping they deserved! Mearle said it was quite the funny spectacle seeing little Dianna smack plants into shape! See? Dianna was a teacher even all the way back then...and not afraid at all to "call" her friends up on the carpet over their "stuff" when need be. Not afraid back then, nor afraid throughout the rest of her adult life, to play it straight and honest with her friends, with her family and with her loves...whether about herself or about what she intuitively heard, saw or read-in between the lines-about others. Dianna always shot from the hip...and she always landed on her feet.

A line from an old song says, "Ain't got no trouble in my life. No foolish dreams to make me cry. I'm never frightened or worried, I know I'll always get by." I never worried about Dianna. I knew what she knew...that she'd always get by. And she always did. I've never known anyone to land on her feet as consistently as our Di did! Lose a job? No problem...the next came by within days, out of her wonderfully connected network. Need a new place to live? No problem! What did Dianna do? What did she say? "I'll just put it out to the universe and something will come up."...and something always did. That was her trust. That was her courage. That was her faith in the provider...working on her behalf. My own belief in, "putting it out there" and "trusting", over the years, has been accelerated by Dianna's committed example. And, perhaps, your trust in the universe has grown too, as Dianna showed so many people how to do it...just by doing it herself and being such a superlative walking, talking example.

Years ago an old friend named the pair of us "Windy" and "Stormy" because we blew into events and stirred things up, like a gust of new air. Dianna wanted to be, "Stormy" and so it was. And that was so appropriate...anytime Dianna showed up, anywhere, things moved along; got stirred up, like a benevolent whirlwind storm blowing things through and clear--especially at a party! When she put on her "dancing shoes" and went out-on-the-town weather with her darling Anthony, or just a bunch of girls, she was some kind of hottie...and willingly danced up a "storm" the entire night long!

Dianna was all those spiritual, reflective, quiet and contemplative things, but she was also-when she wanted-a wonderful celebrant of the "cause d'jour!" Just ask old friends like Jo and Norman, Dale and David, Maureen, Lorna, Cindy, Teresa, Alise, Savetri, and her family here today: her sister Mearle and brothers Dalton and Stan, and all the rest of her nuclear family, too, for that matter. They all know, as do you, that Dianna had a celebrant's energy and spirit.

Remember one of your own stories of Dianna's energy and laughter at a particular event? Bet you've got scads of "howling-with-laughter" tales to tell. Dianna always like that word: "Howling"...she used it often: "howling" with laughter. I can just hear using it right now. "We just howled!" She was always the life of the party; wherever she was...that's where the party was! Di could be at a big dinner, positioned at the far end of a rectangular table-seemingly out of the hub of the technical heart of the group, yet, where Dianna was, was where the party ended up being, every time! And it didn't even matter whether or not she knew a soul at the table to begin with...by the end of the night they'd all become fast friends, thanks to Dianna. Even on her last day and night, while in her hospital room, unconscious, but still emanating her powerful presence, Dianna was the conduit for bringing fine people together in joy, laughter and authentic spirit, for the very first time, And right here--right now-as we congregate to remember and celebrate her life, she's doing it yet again!

Dianna was a princess, in the nicest sense of the word. She was regal and welcoming and, indeed, full of inner grace. And she had a regal sense of how to complete on household chores, too. Although no stranger to rolling up her sleeves and getting the job done when absolutely required, just this past autumn she sent me a little email joke (one of 87 I'm so glad I archived), saying, "her idea of cleaning a room was sweeping it with a glance". She had a wicked sense of humour, for sure, and I know that each one of us here, at some point or another, has, on multiple occasions, been double-over with laughter and left gasping for breath, thanks to Di. There's nothing so joyful, so wonderfully free, yet rich, as a good belly laugh...and there was nothing like our Dianna to deliver the guffaw goods.

And speaking of knocking the wind right out of you, with rascal delight, Dianna learned to do just that quite early in her life. Picture this: brothers Dalton and Stan, 9 and 10 years her senior-big, strapping mid-teenaged boys-being chased around the yard by this little, skinny waif of a 5 year old thing, while her big brothers sincerely begged Dianna for mercy, crying "UNCLE! I give up!", so that they could catch their breath. They'd had enough, but Dianna was like an Every Ready battery and never burned out! Dianna may have been a water sign--a Pieces, as she so often liked to remind--but she was a fire ball of energy to her brothers, at 5 years old, and even at 50! To this very day, the Barrett's all marvel at where on earth did she get all that energy??? And maybe the answer is, it wasn't from earth at all, but, rather, from her eternal spirit.

From a lifetime of professional work devoted to the Ontario Public Service-- through days with the WSIB, MBS and MOH--to her many years of organized charitable work with the Multiple Sclerosis Society, community radio station CJRT Jazz-FM, to her passionate, multi-yeared service to Toronto East End Literacy and, of course, to her devotion to her sanga...to her chosen faith and to her sanga members, Dianna gave it all. Always.

A smart, sassy, learned and supremely literate woman who loved the English language so much she MAJORED in it! No one could turn a phrase like Dianna. No one I know demonstrates such wise, insightful or provocative opinions about just about anything and everything, as consistently as Dianna did. As a matter of fact, Monday night, just about the very moment of her passing, our Canadian government was being shaken up in a most historic fashion. My first thought was, "I knew Dianna wouldn't leave on just any old bland and bleak near-winter day." My second thought was, "I wonder what Dianna would have said/I wonder what she would have thought about all of this?" And, if she was here, I'd have been on the phone, toot suite, to find out...and we'd have probably talked for hours about it all. You know, one time, many years ago, we got talking so passionately about topics of the day, while sitting in our favourite restaurant of the time, enjoying a Sunday brunch, that we ended up staying clean on through the dinner menu, too! Never before in my life, nor since, nor probably ever again, will I sit with a friend so long, talking, in one restaurant, at one time, that we end up ordering lunch and then Dinner, too!!! That was one scary bill come evening's end! When two chatty people get together...lookout! But that was Dianna. She loved great conversation and could stand up with the chattiest of 'em, and also bring out the most meek and mild.

Dianna attracted an amazing assortment of souls, and called a wide diversity of people, "friend". She had left wing and right wing friends, over 80 and under 20 friends, and everything in between friends; she had Birkenstock friends, and blue jeans friends, Lulu Lemon Yoga-Wear ones and nose-ring ones, friends in designer suits with la-di-dah expensive and important looking jewelry and sanga friends; frontline worker friends and president-of-the-organization friends, too. And the one sure thing all these seemingly different people had, and still have, in common, is that we all valued Dianna and will treasure her time spent with us, whether 30 years or 30 days, forever.

She fit in everywhere! And don't we just know--knowing how devoted Dianna was to her spiritual studies--that her very BEST, her most rewarding fit of all, is where she is RIGHT NOW, in the love of God and in her life hereafter. Our Dianna's landed on her feet, yet again! Everywhere Dianna made the difference. She makes the difference still. She made the best kind of success of a life on this planet, and for that, we are all eternally grateful.

These words of Emerson's sum up Dianna's stellar life success so succinctly:

WHAT IS SUCCESS?

To laugh often and love much;
To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
To earn the approval of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;
To give of one's self without the
slightest thought of return;
To have accomplished a task,
whether by a healthy child,
a rescued soul, a garden patch,
or a redeemed social condition;
To have played and laughed with enthusiasm
and sung with exaltation;
To know that even one life has breathed easier because
you have lived;
This is to have succeeded.

Think of all the lives that have breathed easier and been made more joyous from having interfaced at length, or even merely once, with that spiritual being having a human experience, named Dianna/Dyavati Barrett. She was truly a most successful woman, indeed. We'll love her forever...we'll love her for always.

And, in closing, I share with you this little blessing I dug up, that Diana shared with me oh so many, many years ago. As she wished it for me then, I know she wishes it for us all, today, so hear her voice I share it, now:

May the blessings of God be upon you.
May his peace abide with you,
May his presence illuminate your heart,
Now and forever more.

Our Diana will live forever.

I traded in my old modem for a new one today; this required a visit to one of my service provider's retail outlets. Now I'm in "the business" of championing service excellence, employee motivation, how to feel and how to demonstrate authentic passion for your profession (whatever it is you "do" for a living), so, as a consumer/private citizen, I'm always holding a company's feet to the fire when they espouse certain service "promises" and expectations. With this particular company, the promise was literally plastered in BIG capital letters, right on the front glass door: "WELCOME TO _ _ _ _ _ _ ...THE EXPERIENCE STARTS NOW!"

Wow! We (my husband and I) were going to have an "experience" once we crossed this store's threshold! Hmmm. Wonder what that will look like? feel like? Guess what...big--I mean BIG--disappointment...at least at first. The person who greeted us (and I use that term loosely) at the custom "service" desk had a lack luster facial expression and energy to match. She did not offer a greeting nor initiate communication but, rather, waited for me to share my "problem". Despite my smile and sincere, gracious manner, she continued for some moments to be poker faced, seemingly uninterested and disengaged (although I know she was hearing me just fine). I kind of wanted to knock on her head and say, "Hello? Is anybody there? Hello...McFly?"

It became a bit of a challenge for me. I confess, I was taking it personally. This was my experience??? This was all I was going to get? What about the door??? What a rip off! "False advertising!", I wanted to shout. I decided to take on my own challenge and see if I could do my level best to get this employee to give me (without her really knowing it) the "experience" to which the door boasted. Granted, they didn't really say what kind of experience I was going to get, did they...but one is left assuming it would be a FANTASTIC one.

I had to do most of the work but, in the end, she was charming, engaged and really did provide me with the service excellence "experience" I was pledged in writing at the doorstep. But note: I had to do all of the work/facilitate that end result (and that's because I know how). But what about the "other guy"...the next customer, who may not know how to bring another around. It really isn't the customer's job to inspire staff members/service professionals to deliver on the company's service excellence promises. If the frontline or other service staff members aren't delivering on this promise because they don't know how, it's management's job to recruit and select for "right" personality, as well as capability...and it's management's job to ensure that staff assigned to meet, greet and serve customers are armed with all the right interpersonal and service excellence communication skills required before they're shoved in front of the "firing squad". Otherwise, if the company still insists on hiring these particular (low energy, lackluster) individuals, they should be assigned stock room duties, instead. Poorly suited employees damage a company's word and credibility.

A couple of weeks ago I spoke at the World Council of Credit Unions' Annual Conference. What a terrific bunch they were, and what an honour and great fun it was addressing such a diversity of delegates from over 50 countries--an honour that almost didn't happen, I might add. Why? Because sometimes my job is a big pain in the neck, that's why!!! Literally.

I flew in late Sunday afternoon, with ample time before I spoke Monday morning. In typical fashion, and with a bit of an air of smugness, I schlepped only carry-on luggage. I confess, I feel quite the accomplished traveller to be able to regularly get both my business and personal effects into two permitted carry-on pieces. This time, however, my usual two pieces were heavier than normal, for I chose to bring along an extra box-worth of my books (in addition to those sent ahead of time). Turns out that was a big mistake (although I didn't truly know that until the following morning).

Yup...come the pre-dawn of that oh-so-important Monday morning the weight of that luggage "yelled" at me. There I was, far from home, all alone in my hotel room...and unable to move! What had I done to my neck??? And oh the pain! And oh-my-goodness, what was I going to do? I had to speak in a mere few hours time! Nothing like this had ever happen to me before. For those of you who know HBO's, Sex in the City, I likened this moment to the one where Miranda pulled her neck so severely all she could do was lie there and whimper helplessly, all alone on her bathroom floor. As for me...(darn it!), there was no Aidan to save the day. Who did come to my rescue, however, was a guardian angel from the front desk of the Calgary Fairmont Palliser Hotel named Sarah.

It was 5:00 a.m. and I didn't have any "drugs" on me--you know, Advil, Lidvil, Ridvil, whatever. Enter the heroism of the front desk manager. Sarah went off to scour the hotel and score me some "good stuff" (it was my hope that some simple analgesics would relax my neck muscles long enough to get though my client commitment to delver my keynote). Turns out none were on site. Can you believe that? What to do, what to do? Bless her heart, without me requesting further effort from her, Sarah volunteered to go to a near by 24 hour pharmacy and save the day. And that she did, indeed. I took three of those lovely Advil's before I left my hotel room--with the okay of a "tele-health" nurse, by the way--and swimmingly swanned through my address without any outward indication of my nasty neck injury (nor apparent inward indication either, I might add--what's in that stuff anyway??? Amazing.).

My point in sharing with you this personal/professional little ditty is two fold:

1. The "show" must always go on: as much as possible we all must do our flat-out (no pun intended!) professional best to deliver on our client promises and commitments.

2. True Service Excellence is in the Professional's Willingness and Demonstration to go that "extra mile", unprompted by the client: tales of Excellence in Customer/Client Service are amazing, admirable, and all too few-and-far-between--the kind where staff intuitively (or, perhaps through conscious effort inspired by effective professional development training) just know what to do to go that "extra mile" to help a client they say they truly value, in a moment of dire need. Now that's service excellence...and that's a classy example of living up to all the service excellence platitudes that are plastered on company walls and websites everwhere.

What are your stories of "soldiering on" at work, for the sake of your client's satisfaction and your own professional reputation and pride, despite arduous, painful or challenging circumstances?

What are your stories of being on the other side of the "desk"--as a client or customer, yourself, receiving outstanding service excellence from another service provider?

Please share and post your thoughts. Work can often times be pretty tough to take--agree? Therefore, let's herald and celebrate both our own moments of professional heroism and those of others we've experienced along the way, everyday.

Have you ever thrashed around in the emotional pain of indecision, or found yourself suffering from "paralysis of analysis" regarding a particular personal or professional issue or choice? Of course you have. Everyone "goes there" at some time or another, don't they? And--thank goodness--sooner or later we all find our way through the instability of these nasty "worm holes" (my geeky Star Trek: The Next Generation analogy), and discover that work life (or other life) is better on the other side of the challenge and that we've been made richer and stronger from it.

For some inexplicable reason this mid-summer's day, I'm recalling such a challenge that was visited upon me (both personally and professionally) back some 18 years ago. Indeed, the fret of, "What to do?? What to do???", caused me months of great personal pain and, quite frankly, made my work performance suffer, too. As is typical for many, I stuffed my worries way down and soldiered on with my daily routine as best I could.

During this phase of my most challenging "life cross-roads" (at least so far!), my daughter--who was no more than two...but not named Cindy-Lou Who!--daily pulled down from my library shelf a classic book by Gail Sheehy, entitled, Passages: Predictable Crises of Adult Life (a book I'd purchased but had yet to read...I did that a lot back then; still do, I confess; you, too? so many books...so little time, but I digress). Totally preoccupied with both the daily busyness of motherhood and my worries, I would thoughtlessly and automatically take Passages from my girl's little hand and place it back on the shelf. The very next day--just like the cat that always came back the very next day, or just like the shoes that my puppy, Angus, would repeatedly cart out to the yard in his mouth...full of slobbers, yuck!), Kathryn would rediscover Passages on the shelf and hand it to me yet again...each time saying either, "This, this???", or, "Mummy read?" "What was it with her and this book???", I wondered. Must be its pretty fushcia cover and rainbow letting. And this little "game" between us carried on for days! No matter where I randomly replaced this book on the shelf, Kathryn would find it and offer it up to me again and again.

Finally, one day when I was feeling particularly troubled--and when my dear little girl had ever-so-patiently handed me Ms. Sheehy's book yet again, saying, "This? This?", it hit me: perhaps "this" is an omen? a message? a blinding flash of the obvious? I thanked my toddler for the offer of the pretty book and read it. And so began my transition from the "paralysis of analysis and indecision", to courage and action. The rest--as they say--is history. Thanks to finally paying attention to a "gift" from a sweet, innocent and unlikely source, and thanks to finally paying attention to that "blinding flash of the obvious", I was on my way to personal and professional clarity, success and satisfaction once again.

And so I ask you:

1. Where it your experience--work life or otherwise--have you missed that "blinding flash of the obvious", which could have helped you see your way through quicker or with greater ease?

2. Could you possibly be missing such a "flash" right now? Something to think about--yes? Pay heed.

Rest not. Life is sweeping by; go and dare before you die. Something mighty and sublime, leave behind to conquer time." - Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

The secret of a leader lies in the tests he has faced over the whole course of his life and the habit of action he develops in meeting those tests. - Gail Sheehy

And finally...once again from my love of the wisdom from Star Trek: TNG:

Make it so. Engage. - "Captain Jean Luc Picard" ("Star Trek: Next Generation")

P. S. To this very day my (now 21 year old) daughter loves this Passages story, and likes to take credit for helping to facilitate my higher awareness of oh-so-many years ago.

I've always told her she's an "old soul" and I'm sure she fancies herself "older and wiser" than I a times. That's fine with me. Perhaps, indeed, she is.

One of my biggest email pet peeves is receiving important business emails all folded-in with my daily SPAM...and I don't mean luncheon meat! Like you, I receive a fair amount of SPAM and, therefore, several times a day (when I feel the need to shift gears and do a bit of mindless work), my finger gets a-twitchin on the Delete, Delete, Delete button.

Sometimes I get into such a Delete rhythm that I get a bit sloppy and press Delete a little too hastily, only to then switch from twichin' to fishin'--through my electronic trash bin, that is--to retrieve that all-important, nearly discarded email.

Tell me I'm not the only one who has almost accidentally thrown away an important message! Most of the time it's my own silly fault; some of the time it's my clients' or enquirers'. Why? Sloppy or thoughtless use of the incoming subject line. Unless I already clearly know my enquirer's name, putting "Hi!" as the only wording in the subject line is not going to inspire me to open it...especially if it comes along with an attachment!

I'm often left wondering how many people I may have accidentally snubbed because of my trigger finger, leaving them wondering why I haven't taken the time to respond to their enquiry--only a small few I sincerely hope! At least I've learned, now--and the hard way, I confess--to carefully review my email trash before I delete the whole works at the end of each day. Now I look carefully at both the subject line and the sender's name...and use my intuition as to whether to take a chance opening the mysterious ones. Every now and then my intuition serves me well and I discover that that odd-looking email is, in fact, a legit request for book my services for a conference keynote! Every other now and then it's a request for unmentionable things--brother!

Help myself, and others, effectively and efficiently receive and respond to your emails. Put glaringly conspicuous and specific (non-cute) words, reference points and/or questions in your Subject Line...not just, "The Dude's turning 50!" Yup! That subject line really came my way once. I received this email from a name I didn't recognize, with a subject line which, to me, seemed suspiciously like baited SPAM, and so what did I do? Deleted it! But it was for a birthday party celebration of a dear friend and I only ended up finding out about this party when I'd committed elsewhere for that date. And that, dear readers, brings me to yet another pet peeve...those hosts that don't send at least one follow up on RSVP emailed invitations. Email is great, for sure--whatever did we do without it???-- but we can't always expect that it reaches the intended parties 100% of the time unless you ask for a confirmation. Sometimes you never get the bounce back, but they never get the email? Where does it go--who knows??? Into the ether, or email purgatory, or slide into a 4th dimension or something. Something to think about, eh?