If we don’t stop to think about where our outlooks on life stem from, we can miss the chance to form our own opinions about what we want to see from the world.
Every Christmas is different, and this year will be no exception. I’m good with a departure from turkey, and am open to coconut milk eggnog. But of course, adapting to change doesn’t always come easy, especially when love is involved.
Millennials in the business world. I guess I’m one of them. Why does it feel kind of shameful to admit that? Probably because we are the generation most often touted as being entitled, lazy, having poor work ethic, and being high-maintenance, among other less than flattering adjectives.
North Europeans like myself are notoriously prone to bipolar “disorder” and seasonal affective “disorder.” Are these really disorders, or are our minds and bodies telling us that we are forcing ourselves into a pattern of summer productivity which is ultimately unsustainable?
Take pride in who you are and where you come from. Remember to give the same treatment to the people you encounter every day.
I hope this book becomes a theme for the coming Christmas; it is as timely as it was when it appeared just over a hundred years ago. What other signposts are hidden in my memory, ready to point down “rabbit holes” when the time is ripe for uncovering old information in a new context?
Camille and Michael began adopting children with special needs in 1986. At that point they had no idea their kindness would grow over four decades to a family of 88 and develop into a foundation to help those with special needs and their families.
Somewhere in the past decade, the race toward creating artificial computer intelligence has made incredible strides toward making AI a reality. But what does that mean for humanity and how we might live our lives together with super-intelligent AI systems? Some scientists believe we should find the answer before it finds us.
We, like fabric as one, as the stage is set and the actors prepare for their final acts.
The milk spilled across the table and all over the floor. Its white stain splashed outward and became a ghostly firework there beside the toes of his shoes, which barely scraped the old hardwood floors so used to absorbing these accidents.