Category Archives: Personal Growth

Just for Fun, Mental Hygiene, Personal Growth

The End Is Always the Beginning

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When I announced my “retirement” from teaching real estate last spring, I introduced the concept of “repotting.” (Spoiler alert: a friend told me to stop saying retirement and switch to repotting. “You’re just going to grow in a different place.”) Bear that in mind as I make yet another announcement.

On November 10, 2023, I inactivated my Maine Real Estate Broker License. It was a bit of a ritual–I’d stopped actively engaging in brokerage some years ago and had no intention of starting again. My joke was, “There are more fun ways not to make money.” That might be a different topic, although, at the time, the market was challenging. Besides, I could broker vicariously through the experiences my students shared.

That’s not to say that real estate–whether brokering or teaching–isn’t fun. I recently had a lot of laughs with my colleagues at my agency of record, the Mallet Agency in Dover Foxcroft. We recounted some of the funny things that have happened over the years. And I’ve often quoted, “The little joys of teaching are without number.” Sometimes I do roll my eyes when I say it, but it really is true.

So, after clicking “submit” on my application to change my license status, what happened? In one sense, not much. No grand chorus rang from the skies; the heavens didn’t open, there was no clap of thunder… In a very real sense, I’d simply officially made a life change that began some years ago. Every end has a beginning, and every beginning has an end.

So I left for Bangor but stopped at the mailbox. In it was a big envelope of thank you notes from some third graders I recently spent some time with. (It’s a long story; you can find the details here.) I also stopped to meet and visit a 94-year-old fellow in hospice. (It’s another long story; you can find the details here.) We had a great visit. I enjoyed his smiles.

As the day progressed, I seemed to have one positive experience after another. I had some canning jars to drop off at my Amish friend’s farm stand. It was another happy visit. I usually bring books for her sons, and their enthusiasm for them is both rewarding and encouraging.

I know that our “worldview” tends to influence what we see and how we interpret it, but I had to admit that a lot of good stuff seemed to be coming my way on this both eventful and uneventful day. We can attribute it to Karma or fate or the planets being aligned, but my last stop on the way home was the grocery store for a gallon of milk. When the fellow ahead of me was given his amount due, he jerked a thumb my way and said, “I want to pay for his milk.”

A day that started with an ending included lots of new beginnings. Or maybe just one. Maybe, for some reason, I started seeing the world a little differently. Today was a great reminder we have a lot of control over how we see ourselves and how we see the world. I may not be an official real estate broker any longer, but new beginnings are more important than endings. I’m just going to thrive and grow and laugh and enjoy in different places. I didn’t retire. I repotted.

Amish Life, Learning, Personal Growth

How Many Priorities Should You Have?

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“The key is not to prioritize what’s on your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.”

Steven Covey

Busyness has always interested me. In 2017, I wrote an article called “Just How Busy Are You, Really?” It attempted to create some thinking about prioritizing and how being “busy” can become a status symbol. Several years later, the question became, “You’re Not Busy, Are You?” It took a slightly different slant but raised some of the same questions about busyness. You may want to read both later. First, let me share how a young Amish girl drove it home recently.

We met some friends from an Amish Family during an annual visit to Pennsylvania. Two of the younger girls were our first encounter at their gift shop. We’d provided a “gift bag” that included an item that required some explanation because it was a bit of a joke. I noted that their older sister “Rachel” might use it in her job as an Amish Teacher. (Last year was her first year. We’d shared some thoughts on teaching and explored some of the differences between an Amish one-room schoolhouse and my experience as a substitute teacher in a public school. )

The youngest girl, “Katie,” advised us that Rachel would not be teaching this fall. I expressed some surprised concern–she’d seemed quite passionate about teaching. Nine-year-old Katie explained, “She’s in a relationship.”

Janice asked, “Do we like him?” Katie replied, quite matter-of-factly, “Rachel does.”

When Rachel joined us, I couldn’t resist singing, “Rachel’s got a boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes and laughed, giving Katie a “you told, didn’t you” look. She didn’t offer much about him, but in explaining her decision not to teach this fall, she shared in Amish matter-of-fact tones, “I believe it’s best not to have too many priorities in life.”

When talking with the Amish, I try to consider their point of view because it’s often quite different from most. I’ve used the description “matter of fact” intentionally in describing Katie and Rachel’s explanation. The Amish are often referred to as “plain people.” Katie and Rachel spoke plainly–some would say “simply,” but that’s not entirely accurate. The Amish point of view is one where marriage and family are a huge priority–throughout their entire lives. It can seem strange or even backward to us “Englischers,” who are often focused on individuality, education, and careers.

The point here is not to understand Rachel’s decision but to see the clarity of her priorities. (She was busy weed-wacking the fence line of the family farm when we arrived.)

I don’t know precisely how old Rachel is, but probably in her late teens. She has figured out something most of us don’t. Ultimately, how busy we are is a matter of our priorities. And, for the most part, our priorities are of our own choosing.

Rachel didn’t complain that she was weed-whacking in temperatures in the high nineties with oppressive humidity. She apologized for her sweaty appearance and made it clear she would get right back at it following our visit.

I think one reason I enjoy the Amish so much is their unassuming and selfless outlook. From what I’ve seen, they don’t complain much. Gellasenheit*. Most of the Amish I know don’t give advice. They live it. Rachel doesn’t know it, but she has helped me make several important decisions. Those decisions are based on the possibility I just might have too many priorities in my life.

She’s also aroused my curiosity. I’ll ask her if she has a bucket list the next time we visit. I won’t be surprised if she replies, “What is that?”

We Englischers seem to live with a deficit approach wherein life is about what we don’t have and how we’re going to get it. When we start to think we’re too busy, it may be time to remember Rachel. “It’s best not to have too many priorities in life.”

*Gellasenheit is a difficult concept to explain in a few words, but it’s about “yieldedness” and letting things be. It helps explain the Amish tendency to yield to tradition and “let things be.”

Communication, Personal Growth, Writing Skills

When Artificial Intelligence Isn’t…

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Sometimes, you have to see the humor in it.

I’ve not been particularly fearful of the increasing use of AI. Some of my writer colleagues are freaking out. While I’m certainly not an expert, I think an essential limitation of AI is the linear aspect–at least at this point.

There’s a fundamental difference between “intelligence” and “thinking.” Intelligence means knowing you don’t start sentences with a contraction. But a thinking writer will do so to make a point. (See what I just did there?)

So here’s a story for you. I received a $50 debit card thanks to a settled class action suit. It could only be used for online purchases, functioning like a prepaid credit card. The instructions warned that the transaction would be denied if an attempted purchase was more than the balance on the card.

I purchased using the card for $48.52, leaving a $1.48 balance on it. My financial thinking hated acknowledging that I would be “losing” that $1.48 unless I made an online purchase for less than that.

This is not too complicated so far, right?

A month later, I received an email advising me that my $12.76 purchase was denied because it exceeded the balance on the card. That would make sense, except that I hadn’t used the card. So the most logical conclusion to me (and, I’m sure, you) was the card has been “compromised.” We are both intelligent and thinking.

So I emailed my concern to the card provider. “Noemi” almost immediately advised that I’d been assigned a case number and would be hearing soon. (Apparently, Noemi must follow a proscribed, linear system to pretend it can think. )

When the reply came, AI generated it (emphasis on Artificial), reminding me that I was not allowed to make purchases that exceeded the balance, etc. It insulted my intelligence, but I reminded myself our relationship wouldn’t have much emotion. Noemi isn’t concerned about my feelings.

After some thinking (there’s that word again), I realized my only risk here was $1.48, which I’d already determined I would lose. But for the entertainment value, I continued to converse with Noemi via email.

Noemi continued sending me useless information reflecting its lack of understanding of my emails and inability to think.

ME: “I’m reporting this because there’s a problem with your system and this compromised card. The good news is the system denied the charge.”

NOEMI: “Please contact the vendor to dispute the charge.”

I briefly considered additional experimentation. Could I find a keyword for Noemi to recognize and generate a different response? I suspect that will become a required skill in the future, but I didn’t see much to gain this time.

One thing that does scare me a bit is that many humans are adopting this linear thinking pattern. I remember a conversation during COVID with a doctor’s office that was refusing to see me because “You have symptoms of COVID.”

I replied, “But I tested negative. The symptoms are attributed to my COPD.” (I should add this was a routine, non-essential visit.)

The human replied, “I’m sorry, but our policy is that we don’t see patients with COVID symptoms.” I thought her voice had a robotic tone.

I said, “Can you take a message for the doctor?” (Artificial intelligence likes closed-end questions that require a “yes” or “no” answer.) “Please advise the doctor that she will never see me again since I will always have these symptoms.”

Several days later, I received a call advising they had changed their policy and I could please come in next Tuesday.

So the good news is the bad news. AI doesn’t think like humans do–that’s the good news. But humans sometimes “think” the way AI does–that’s the bad news. I’m more concerned with human thinking than artificial intelligence. How about you?

Amish Life, Causes and Friends, Maine Life, Mental Hygiene, Personal Growth

Can I Help with the Peaches?

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Actually, there is no direct connection between Kauffman Orchards and B… and if this photo looks a little blurry, understand it was taken from a moving horse and buggy!

During a recent visit to Central Pennsylvania, I decided to revisit one young friend (“B”) I’d talked to last summer. She told me then she had just decided to stay with the Amish Faith and shared some of her thoughts and reasons. I was quite literally “blown away” by her honesty and thinking. We even discussed some of the difficulties she anticipated. When the conversation ended, she said how wonderful it was that we had learned from each other.

I didn’t see her working at the farmstand this year, but I mentioned her to the older Amish gentleman who collected for my purchases. He smiled some, jerked a thumb over this shoulder, and said, “She’s in the back peeling peaches. You should go talk to her.”

I felt oddly honored that I was allowed through the “employees only” door. I found her making short work of peeling and cutting up a huge basket of peaches.

I was not disappointed. She remembered me and was only too happy to share some updates. We actually had quite a discussion about “social media.” She has a phone because, in addition to working at her family’s farm stand, she has started her own business. She explained how she uses the phone and how she doesn’t. Prior to baptism and joining, she used the phone freely, but she also saw how using the phone impacted her. I agreed with her and found myself a bit jealous of her achievement. In so many words, we agreed that it’s important to think about how things impact us.

It wouldn’t be accurate to say she’s a lucky girl because I’m not sure luck is involved. She is taking full responsibility for her choices and the consequences of them. She’s a critical thinker–I noticed that last year. She made the point then that choosing to remain Amish would not be based on the things she is giving up. She is staying Amish for what she will gain.

I’ve noticed that conversations about the Amish typically drift to what they don’t have or accept. “They don’t have electricity.” {That’s only partially true. ) “They don’t drive cars; they have to use horses and buggies.” (Again a partial truth.) We seem to make it sound like being Amish is all about giving things up and following rules.

B doesn’t see it that way. She is not a victim of being Amish. She chooses not to sit at home and play computer games on her phone. She is choosing her way of life. We talked a lot about who we are and who we will become, and how life is a journey and process. She also knows what she doesn’t know.

Gellasenheit! (Ironically, when I used that word with her last year, she didn’t know the meaning. She found it interesting and amusing that she was learning an Amish way of thinking from an Englischer.

B continues to work at the family farmstand. Since last year she’s also started her own successful business. She somewhat shyly shared that she’s “in a relationship.” I teased, “So next year you’ll be married and I won’t find you here.” Her reply was straight to the point, “Oh, I doubt that!” Later, I wished I’d clarified. She might have meant she’d probably be married but still at the family farm stand. One thing for sure, she’ll have made her decisions thoughtfully.

I didn’t ask, but if I were to guess she’s in her late teens. Most Amish join the church between the ages of 18 and 21.

In the Amish world, she is NOT an exception. I could share other stories and examples. She finished the peaches while we talked. I can handle that sort of multitasking. I am challenged to talk with someone who is also typing on their smartphone.

I am proud, honored, and blessed to know her.

Causes and Friends, Personal Growth, Teaching

Thanks to My Sort of Dad(s)…

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I’ve not traditionally posted anything on Fathers’ Day, but I’m making an exception this year. Blame it on my age, but of late, I’ve been reflecting on my experiences with my Dad and the years immediately following his death when I was seven.

I think he’d like to know about the long list of guys who did their best to help fill the void. I’m certainly not going to try to name them all. Some were relatives. Many were his friends. Two were neighbors. They didn’t try to be my Dad; they just became my friend.

One helped me build a birdhouse; I think it weighed fifty pounds when we were finished adding ideas and amenities. A neighbor made me his companion when he split wood and gardened. The guy who ran the gas station and bait shop in town offered fishing advice and occasionally provided free tackle.

Some of those men remained a friend for years. They’re all gone now. Dad would have celebrated his ninety-eighth birthday this year. Today I miss them. Actually, I miss them a little every day. I’ve always said of my Dad that he’s with me and haunts me in ways that are positive beyond belief. I considered it a huge compliment when his friends would remark, “You’re just like your Dad.”

Was it providential that we had the same names? In later years, some of those men actually thought I was my Dad. If we’re in my hometown I can show you my name on the WW II honor roll.

I do occasionally wonder what he’d think about how complicated life’s become. But if I’m “just like” him, I think I know.

He’d miss the connections we had nearly seventy years ago. He’d miss the opportunities we had to be a caring friend to others, especially those much younger. He’d recognize the importance of friends but balance it with independence and resilience.

If you’d like to read a short story about how he taught me that, read “Thanks, Dad!” It’s the story of one of my best days with him.

Walter Boomsma, Sr.

1926-1954