He couldn’t say I LOVE YOU

he didn’t have the words

yet he always came running

put himself in my way

here here he’s just gonna be here

Just gotta be here

Cause his eyes

his mind

His motion

all directed at me

Just gonna be here
Just gotta be here

Hey hey

No words and he always came running

‘by his contrivance, the most reasonable person at a reasonable charge and with a little bodily labor might write books in philosophy poetry, politics, laws, mathematics and theology  with the least assistance from genius or study”

The knowledge workier dominates business in creating value and money. Scientists and engineers have been working on labor saving devices for all of human history. The wheel remains a classic.

Even when we have no idea how to do something we are still dreaming of what we could do.

In Grek mythology It was the master craftsman Daedalus who made the wings out of feathers. He held  them in place with wax. He mae theme for his son Iarus. Daedulus warned him that the wax wouldn’t work if he didn’t do it right. Too close to the sun and the wax would melt. Too close to the ocean and the feathers would be too wet to fly

And what did Icarus do?

it wasn’t the damp seawater that was the problem.

He flew higher than was safe. He met his fate.

When it comes to Artificial Intelligence a, I also think, ‘didn’t we see how this movie ends?’ Sci Fi movies—as well as the novels—tend toward disastrous pessimism. Those kindly aliens show up with a book saying “How to Serve Man” and everyone welcomes them.

And then we learn IT IS A RECIPE BOOK!!!

That’s just a story though

Thia is real life.

I’ve been using AI and it is a useful tool. It is not really intelligence. The other term for AI is LLM or large language model.

Computer programs takes all the information we give it and provide the next most likely answer to a question. It’s a more sophisticated search engine. So sophisticated it sounds like it’s talking.

Of all places, Gulliver’s travels has this exact thing. One of the islands he visited, he found a place that had academies of learning that had come up with plans to solve every difficulity people experienced. They just needed to finish working out the kinks.

One academy had created a machine that mixed up all the words in the world, and strung them together so they would randomly arrange themselves into phrases. That is how books would be written.

As soon as they made the sentences make sense.

I approve of creating labor saving devices.But they have to save labor.

Before I put too much effort into a new technology, I have to make sure it does what it promised.

Last week We took a family trip to Knott’s berryfarm. Veronica invited a friend –Thank you Henry for being willing to ride the roller coasters!—and a good time was had by all. At the end Chris and Veronica went on the log ride one las time, so Henry and I kept each other company.
I told him I like to talk about books. He was interested and he had been in Veronica’s English class, so we talked about those. He said his dad loved Russian literature. By the end I was persuading him to read Crime and Punishment.
I said it was the story of how a loser young man persuaded himself that he was above the rules of regular people and could prove his own greatness by murdering someone. He talked himself into actually doing the crime in the most unheroic way possible and then had all the feelings of what he’d done. I told him I spoiled what the crime was, but the punishment was almost entirely what he inflicted on himself.
“That does sound interesting. My Dad would be so happy if I I read that book.”
This Sunday I played keyboard at church for a guest worship leader. As we exchanged stories I learned that he has been around music his whole life, and worked as part of the production crew for Earth Wind and Fire.
I told him how I was self-taught on the keys, and I started playing for church on the organ as a teenager.

“That’s one thing I never learned! I’d love to learn the organ.”
“I could show you!”
Walking away, I realized my presumption.

Who am I to teach this man who has been around world class musicians?
I am nothing special.
I spent some time playing with it, like a little kid.
And I suppose that is my point. I can share my love of music and books with people for whatever it’s worth to them. I’ll share my bit of heaven with you.

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. “
Matthew 18:3

“Would it be okay if I brought my keyboard?”

My friend was having a party. We’d met at the place where I do my open mic, but she always had to work on open mic night. As I was getting ready to go to the party that night it occurred to me that I could finally play for her.

After all, it was just a party at her house. I could do a song or two if it were quiet, and she’d finally get to hear me.

I was not ready to play FOR REAL. I’ve been practicing and learning songs, but no way was I ready to do a real show. I was not good enough, I didn’t have enough songs in a row—how many songs did I have? Not enough, and I even the ones I had I couldn’t play well enough.

I have been wanting to. I have a few places I could  play for, once I was ready.

So I got the idea to bring my keyboard to the party, that was a perfect fit. I wasn’t promising to be good or anything, I could play around, like it was a toy. Toys are welcome at a party.

I came in with my potluck dish, and said hello.

“Did you bring your keyboard?” she asked right away.

Oh! Sure, I’ll go get it.

I unpacked, setting up my cables and   I tried to make it background noise level.

That’s not what they wanted. The host turned it up.

And the guests clapped and called out requests.

I kept playing. I must have played for two hours.

I played the songs I didn’t really know. It didn’t matter like I thought it did.

It would seem the barriers were all in my mind.

If I can make music, and the people can enjoy it, that might be the highest quality that counts.

It’s halfway through the year, but more than a year since I butchered my left pointer finger. I caught it in a  spinning knife—an immersion blender is what they are called.

I was so horrified, I wrapped it in a bandadge as quickly as I could. It bled a LOT. Since I could move it, I chose to let that be enough.

it hurt a lot too.  Four deep scars are now part of my fingerprint. It was numb, and then it would hurt sometimes. I massaged it to try to get it to come back to life and spend hours worrying that I had done serious damage.

Being the stubborn woman I am, I learned to do what I needed or wanted to do by using other fingers. That finger was clumsy, so I started making new habits to accommodate how things seemed to work.

I got used to doing things in a different way. I found new ways of fastening necklaces.

I found other ways to play the piano. 

I wanted to sing and play. I had my goal to record 100 new songs.  And I found a way to make it happen. I am now at 112.

I cut the finger in June of 2025. And I found a way around it.

That was a year ago, and I’m pleased with what I did. I didn’t let a setback stop me.

And my finger has gotten a lot better, It’s not as clumsy or  painful.

I am seeing that my workarounds are now looking like bad habits. It that finger clumsy from the injury?

or am I clumsy because I stopped using it and now my finger is weak and stiff?

I had a good reason for changing how I used my hand. It seems like that reason remains in my habits but not in its essence.

I created a no-go zone that has lasted longer than the fence did.

What could I do now that I thought I couldn’t?

I’m going to go find out.

I am recording the audio files for the handbook I just published. This is the fifth book I’ve published, but the first one I’ve made into an audiobook.
When I published my first book 15 years ago, the new format choice was making sure it was an ebook. I got that published almost at the same time.
The current way to consume books is by listening. I understand. I have the habit of listening to books as I move around. I want to give my readers an audiobook in my own voice.
I have the equipment, and most of the skills to do that. To get the sound right, I drape a blanket over my head and microphone, reading in a level tone to get the audio quality just right.

I have worked hard on each of my books. This last one took a lot longer than I meant it to. With all the cancer and surgeries in the middle, I paused on getting it published. Then I through all caution out the window and passed go without collecting 200 dollars.
What that means is I didn’t do the quality check of hiring an editor to verify that the text was right. I have always been so careful of that, but not this time.

And unlike the other books, no one had come back to me to point out mistakes. I felt safe and shrugged that the first pass was good enough.
I am reading the chapters out loud. Those good enough chapters are showing my failings in naked embarrassing contrast.
Did I forget a period? AGAIN?
Mortified, I make corrections in my manuscript to read aloud. What is my error tolerance?

I have lowered my standards. Yet, this book is my most popular. But I rushed it to press without my usual attention to detail.
And now I see what I missed. That my readers have been forgiving.
I’m trying to forgive myself.
What is the balance between perfecting and presenting?
I’m happy with how my book has been received. And I’m not happy with its obvious and basic flaws.
And yet the book was so well received even with its flaws, I have to consider that good enough can be welcome when there is nothing else fill that need.
That’s what I’m telling myself. Done is better than perfect. That’s good because I can get it done and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it perfect.
Still I feel like I have my shoes untied. I’m going to update the book with my corrections after I finish the recordings.

Immersive language learning is the best way to learn. I was in Russia as a nineteen year old, desperate to make friends and get away from the tiny apartment where my family lived. I had to learn the language so I could have converations which meant friends.

I practiced the alphabet on the plane over, I was nowhere near skilled enough to have a conversation. But that immersion thing helped. I spoke to strangers and studied every day and night and got closer eery day.

I did make some friends—at first people who knew English. As I tried to practice speaking Russian, that translation dictionary came out to help me find the right word. And conversation stopped as I flipped pages to find the meaning.

After time I got just enough vocabulary to string together a basic conversation.

Barely.

with my goal of leaving my home and making friends, I could visit other people’s houses and have a chat. But if I wanted the conversation to flow, I had to be the one talking.

If I let the other people  speak, I could never be sure of what would come out of their mouths. I could be sure that I would understand the words I was speaking.

It was risky to let new words in, otherwise, we’d be back to that vibe-killind dictionary.

I’m not proud of my choice. It was intentional to limit the language learning in order to get a chance to use the language.

We had a lot of enjoyable conversations, my new Russian friends. I was very fluent in the words surrounding preparing tea. A lot of companionable things can be said without using complicated words.

It would take me quite a while to get that fluent in Russian again, but I have learned to invert that strategy in my conversations.

I know my life, I lived it. BUt when I start conversations with new friends, I avoid talking about my life. I choose carefully which pieces to introduce into the conversation, because I want the keep the conversation going.  I don’t’ want to get stuck on old news, flipping the pages of the unchanging dictionary of my life.

What is in your story? Do you know something I could use? Something I could chew on and ponder?

I’ll tell my stories—I’ve published books about them. More important to me is knowing something new. I want to keep the flow rolling.

The alarm wakes me before the sun rises. Working east coast hours I get ready to meet my day. I gather my bible and journal to sit on my patio. I would be cold if I didn’t have slippers and my warm robe.

I flip on the lights so I can see to read, and I also light the candle that is next to my chair. The aroma and flickering flame adds to my pleasure.

The dark sky hovers over the mostly imperceptible hum of the suburbs. I am still groggy so my mind is awkward with the sentences and phrases of the chapter of the morning. I rub my eyes, shake my head and scan the words again.

Ancient words familiar to me, still gleaming with immediate relevance. I look over at my candle to marvel and ponder.

My eyes look up at the sky. Darkness is slowly fading. Where I sit, dawn is not cracking. It spreads like incense.

I turn back to the verse. My communion with scripture in the air of the dawn is not solitary. Fine-tuned to light, birds begin to fly and extemporize. Power poles hold the wires and the wires hold the bird. At least the birds that want to held there, for however long it pleases them.

Chirps
Whistles
Trills
Croaks

The morning birds have things to say to each other. They look far and are not concerned with me.

We early birds are not showy. Colors are not needed before the sun gets involved.

Light gets thicker and the excitement grows. Birds flit and talk speak.

I furrow my soul with the chapters, looking to bring order to my chaos.

I can only imagine what those birds are organizing with each other. My hopes and intentions join the birds as we greet the sun with plans.

I blow out my candle with regret every time.

That light switch I gratefully flipped in the dark fades in the light of day. Get started on the everything—clothes, coffee, and meetings for work. I owe it the gratitude of remembrance.

March 5th I published The AV Project Manager handbook. It is my 5th published book

I have published books on Amazon, so I know how. Writing a book is a lot of work. I’ve done it enough times to respect what it takes. My ability to write a book and put it up for sale is the part I am most confident about.


I am very intimidated about selling it. Almost all my books have been very personal, while I attempted to write something beautiful and wise.

This handbook though, I knew was very specific. It is the book I wished I had when I started being an AV project manager. I feel confident in its value.

I tried a lot of different things to let people know about it. I also made a point of attending America’s largest Pro AV tradeshow in Vegas last week. Last year, Pro AV made $332 billion dollars. This show is the place where my handbook would have an audience.

However, it costs thousand of dollars to have a presesence—a booth—in that show. How was I supposed to get anyone’s attention? I’m not important.

I had plans, and concocted complicated strategies to promote my book and my expertise.

Which fell through the morning before.

That left me with my unadorned self. I laminated a 11×14 in printout of my book cover, punched two holes in it and wore it around my neck. It was light enough, I barely noticed it.

But others did. As I was in line to get my badge, I introduced myself to the woman behind me. “I’m Murphy! I wrote this book.”

She Bought it right away.

And I walked the floor, I met more and more people Some of them were not interested in the book. Others came from across the path to say hello and pose for a selfie.

Three days of introductions and sharing stories. I even met other people who had written books, and they share their expertise too.

of the 25 thousand people there, most were strangers. But I also met old friends that I worked with and have known for years.

I chose to go to the booths of companies where friends worked to give hugs and catch up.

Many of them said they already had the book. Many of them bought the book from me then and there.

I came away with a lot of perspective and joy. I did not and do not have a plan for what to do next.

I do know that whatever I do next will have to stay in the theme of being myself unadorned.

I have plans. I want to reach for all that is possible. Big goals and big plans. I could plan out what needs to happen to get to where I wanted to be. First I would have to organize this, then this next thing was the key to unlocking the rest.

I do love my goals. I always have several going on. I push them forward, aware of where they sit, what I am waiting on and when I should put to get an update because things have slowed down.

This instinct helps me in my profession as a project manager. I love to track the movement toward the goal and remove all the obstacles, no matter how small. I will make three paths to to goal, just to make it as easy as possible for my teams to get there.

I’ll write out possibilities, seeing if a tweak could make it ever better. If we did it this way, would it be faster?

And if tried that, maybe we could capture another prize. Let’s see if that can happen!

And these plans are all in motion. Push push push push

The flow of motion is a joy.

Until

STOP

Blocked

But I had a plan! I was going to to this one thing, and then it would lead to the next thing

Why no!?

I want to execute my plan. It’s a beautiful plan.
All my energy was channeled into making it happen.

I can’t handle a NO.

I try again. And again.

NO

I throw myself against the blocked door. Give me an answer!

No.
I might not like it, but no is an answer.

Beating myself against a locked door is a waste of time.

The sooner I accept the answer the sooner I can get my energy back.

That beautiful plan needs a re-mapping. The no is not about me.

It is a “try again.”

I can still find a way to that prize. I’m still looking.