When was the last time you consulted your inner child? Yes, I know. You’ve been working like crazy, taking care of everyone but yourself, and your weekends are spent sleeping in, catching up, running errands, catching the game on TV. But when was the last time you turned off the TV and filled in the blank, “When I was a kid, I dreamed of being ________” and then compared that to your adult self?
“The creative adult is the child who has survived.” – Ursula K. LeGuin
It was 2003 and I was working at the U.S. Embassy in Ghana. I was a brand new officer with my eye on the ball. I made one of my first cold calls as a political officer to an office in the Ghanaian government. I dialed. A secretary answered the phone. “Hello,” I said, nervous, rushing my speech almost without breathing, “My name is Kerry and I’m calling from the American Embassy. May I speak with Mr. Mensah?”
Haste Not in Life
“Good afternooooon,”the secretary sang in her wonderful West African lilt. Then an expectant silence.
I tried again. “Good afternoon, my name is Kerry and I’m calling from the American Embassy, may I speak with Mr. Menshah?”
“Good afternooooon,” the secretary sang out, “How are you?”
Deep breath. Finally, I remembered. I wasn’t in Washington anymore. Continue reading
renewable enthusiasm 