On United Flight 1184

[Image via friend Daniel Terdiman, News.com...read his whole awesome article.]

On United Flight 1184, spread couchily across 35 G and H, the Rockies are reflected in my quite reflective screen. It’s usually only me layered over whatever doc I’m working on, but this morning it’s all wing and mountains. Working looking at my constant reflection is hard on my eyes, and completely odd. Nothing like looking at your face 10 hours a day to ground you in the fact that you’re getting older.

It’s been one week since I returned from SXSW Interactive, and today I’m headed to NTC in New Orleans. I’m leaving spring in San Francisco, and not thrilled about it.

Conferences are crucibles of interaction though, and the past two weeks have been intense and creative. I expect this week will be no different.

Jane McGonigal’s keynote has been on my mind. Her superhero qualities (above) are mooshing with my interest in SuperHero Camp this summer. Tantek and I had a fascinating exchange about programs for change, and started to talk about how to build them, how they replicate, and how to understand people. The Leslie and I have springlishly committed to each other that we will explore a new idea, for reals. Obama gave a speech I was grateful to hear, and among other hopes, I hope he stayed up all night to write it himself. [Here we wobble and drift, through clouds over snowy peaks. And the mountains end and it’s a sea of houses on the plain.]

If I sit with my hips all the way back in the seat, regally postured, I’m always the tallest person on the plane. The view from 30,001 feet.

Soundtrack: Shuffle…Gillian Welch/ Miss Ohio, Elliot Smith/ Miss Misery, Aimee Mann/ Wise Up, Mountain Goats /The Mess Inside, The Beatles/ I’m Looking Through You.

Remembering.

Smitten by a smart blog post today, on a lesson I'll likely be learning for the rest of my life. Ask for help when you need it, and give it as much as you can.

A rash of friends have been getting their hearts broken lately, and I'm finally healing from the most exhausting work I've ever done. Expressing gratitude has helped lots...even my birthday invites were included thank you notes. If I could write a letter to spring, I'd do that too.

Read it all: Lessons to remember.

Y told me about some difficult times she has had ~ about that low point that many (only a few?) of us reach when we have been dragged down by doubt ~ in ourselves and in others. For some, that point means forgetting all the great things about yourself. So many of us have done things to try to feel better about ourselves and/or numb the pain ~ some sleep around, some drink, some run away, many of us bury ourselves in work so we're not distracted by the emotions we don't know what to do with ~ some of us write about it so we don't have to live it. We all do something about it, for better or worse. Y did something about it, too.

One day she sent an email to some friends and family and, I say through sheer courage, she says through sheer need to survive, she asked them all simply, "Tell me something good about myself; I need to hear it."

Good job sheltering the hope, Y.