The secret to being a good communicator is a hard thing to pinpoint. There are the obvious mechanical bits about grammar and punctuation, but the art of writing is enigmatic. There isn’t a switch somewhere that, when flipped, produces Shakespeare. If you ask five different writers how they got to where they are, you’ll get five different answers. It’s a collection of tiny pieces that, patched together, form the potential for greatness. For me, writing has always been part of who I am. I feel as if I’ve been writing nearly as long as I’ve been breathing… it’s like trying to explain why I’m stubborn, or why my hair is brown. It’s who I am. Still, I managed to come up with five tiny pieces that help me be a better writer. Let’s start at the beginning…

Listen – Writing isn’t just about being the conductor of a glorious word train with a destination depot of perfection. Before you even begin to set pen to paper (or for most of us, finger to keyboard), you must have an idea of what it is you’re trying to say. What message do you want to communicate? What emotion do you want to conjure up? What opinion do you want to sway? To see these things clearly, you must begin by listening. Listen to the people in your world – your friends, family and coworkers. Listen to what is important to them, and how they express that importance. Listen to the words they use, and the passion they try to hide. Listen to what their body language is saying, and how it speaks. Then, use that information to understand your own thoughts, opinions and passions. Knowing what is it you believe in and what you want to say will help you better express not only your own opinions, but the opinions of others. This is the hardest part of the writing process … the words come naturally once the knowing is done.

Read – Equally important to listening is reading, but for an entirely different reason. Though it is true that reading other’s thoughts and opinions will help you frame your own (similar to listening), this isn’t why I believe reading is important. At least, it’s not why I’m listing it here. Instead, I want you to think about what reading gives you, besides a unique perspective into the lives of others. What are you doing right now as you read my own thoughts? You’re hearing not just what I’m saying, but how I say it. Pay attention to my voice, and how I express it. How do I sound in your own universe of thoughts?

If you’re paying attention, you’ll notice that I like to use alliteration and fragments to drive points home. I can also be overly dramatic, and I tend towards a formal voice, which, if you’ve ever met me, is not at all how I speak or act. These things are not accidents. My writing style is something I’ve constructed through decades of heavy reading, and through years of exposure to millions of different voices. My thoughts are subtly influenced by everything I take in… everything I’ve ever read is displayed here, in a jumble of letters on a page. Can you see it? Can you hear it?

So, to write well, you must construct your own voice, your own way of communicating. As I’ve illustrated, the best way to do that is on the words of those who came before you. Read. Not just the great works, but as much as you can, in whatever format you prefer. I’ve devoured poetry, Great Works of Literature (with a capital GWL) , thrillers, romance, sci-fi, fantasy, modern day chic lit, horror, suspense, everything I stumble upon online, magazines, the back of cereal boxes… nothing is ruled out, nothing is too high or too low. Learning is about variety in scope, not focus. I recommend you start with a poem - The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. Even if you’re already a reader, you should read this poem. I am not a poetry person… I generally find the medium unsatisfying, but Prufrock is a symphony of images and words that revealed something in me, and maybe it will in you, too. Read it, and then… read something else.

Fail – I know what you’re thinking… you’re thinking why in the world would I recommend failure? Who wants to fail? No one, that’s who… but we all do, of course, and we all should. In writing, failure happens on a word by word basis. In writing this essay, I’ve constructed no less than one hundred sentences that make exactly zero sense. I’ve gone off on nearly as many tangents, and I’ve discarded so many thoughts I’ve lost count. You shouldn’t be afraid to write something awful… something just terribly awfully awful. Something you wouldn’t want to show your grandmother. Something you don’t even want to read yourself. Write it, read it, edit it, throw it away. Just start writing… it doesn’t need to be perfect. Perfection comes with practice and time… start putting thoughts into words, and edit as you go. Personally, I find it impossible to concentrate on a new thought until I’ve perfected my current one. Then, I will read the entirety of what I’ve written, sometimes obsessively, changing everything again and again. I do this at least a few dozen times before I get a finished product I feel comfortable showing to others. I fail a hundred times over before I succeed. The more you fail at writing, the more chances you give yourself to improve. Don’t be afraid to fail. Do it, and then move on.

Understand –When I was young, I wanted to write fiction. The Great American Novel. I loved reading fiction, so writing it should be easy, right? Wrong. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that a flare with words does not immediately lend itself to plot construction. I have a problem with action – any action. I spend 20 pages navel gazing, and half a page making things happen (too much on the why, not enough on the how). Who wants to read that for hundreds of pages? I don’t, and neither do you.

So, what brought you here today? What is keeping you engaged? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be here if I were writing about a unicorn in a sun-dappled glade (yes… this story exists. I wrote it when I was 11… it is as awful as it sounds). You are here because I am playing to my strengths – description, emotion and humorous instruction. Hopefully, this is helping to keep you engaged and mildly entertained, which gets my point across more effectively. When I choose to write to my strengths, I am more successful in whatever it is I’m trying to do, and this experience will help improve my weaker areas.

So, this finally brings us to my point… Understand who you are – know what it is you’re good at, and what you need practice on. This doesn’t mean you can’t improve, or become great at something. With practice all things are possible, but you have to know where to start. “I want to improve my writing skills” is too broad of a goal. You will fail before you begin. Identify both where you struggle and where you shine. Perhaps you’re best when being persuasive, but stink at reporting. Maybe you’re great at communicating information, but get lost with description. Whatever it is, know it and own it. Then, once the understanding is done, you can start on the mechanics of improving. Just make sure you work on both areas, and not just one or the other. Concentrate too much on your weaknesses, and you’ll lose confidence. Concentrate too much on your strengths, and you’ll never improve. Work on both areas equally, and you’ll be a better writer for it.

Write – I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking this one is obvious. Well, it is and it isn’t. There are those who suffer under the misguided belief that you must be at the top of your field before you can play the game. That is, that the greats – those who are the best at whatever it is they do – were somehow born into their art. That they didn’t begin at the bottom, just like everyone else – with that proverbial first word, first game, or first note. This is a ridiculous notion, of course. A talent, any talent, does not emerge, fully formed from the forehead of providence. No one starts at the top… sure, there are those who may advance faster due to aptitude, luck or circumstance, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t poised at the same starting line, tense and trembling. Yearning for the pop of the starting gun. Ready to break away and run their race, elbow’s flying and feet pounding.

So… if you want to improve your writing, write. You may not be good, at first. In fact, you might be terrible, but do it anyway. Write about things that matter to you, because with passion comes motivation. Write for your children, perhaps, or for your friends. Write about topics you’re knowledgeable on, and about the things you struggle with. Let your mind stretch… make it work at finding the right expression. Don’t worry about the mechanics right away. Instead, listen to the cadence of your language. Not enough people pay attention to the music of writing. It can be beautiful… the long, languid vowels and the staccato beat of the consonants. The secret to effective communication isn’t just what you say, but how you say it. Use the right words in the right order, and the music will be revealed. It can be complicated and foreign, but utterly breathtaking. Listen to it.

Darren Warren Patterson

I first met Darren in a job interview.  My job interview, to be precise.  I was nervous, fidgety.  My back straight.  I mentally reminded myself to make eye contact.  To smile.  To channel a confidence I didn’t feel.  Darren sat across from me in a pinstriped dress shirt and khaki pants.  His arms folded; he leaned back in his chair.  He was quiet for a moment… deep in thought.  I could tell he was gathering his words, preparing them for launch.  While he hesitated on his mental tarmac, I began to worry.  He looked displeased.  The corners of his mouth were turned down, his eyes deep pools of expectation.  His folded arms were apologizing for unfortunate news he had yet to convey.  My mind raced to fill in the blanks… was the position filled?  Was I not right for it?  Did I buy these clothes for nothing?

Then, he smiled at me and began to talk, and all my worries fell away.  It was as if a light had been turned on in a darkened room.  His face came alive as he spoke in great detail about XS, relaying anecdotes and history; snickering fondly… he was bright with the excitement of it all.  It had been a long time since I had seen such passion in the workforce.  I was fresh from a Big Corporation, where enthusiasm was measured in dollar signs and bank books.  I wasn’t used to seeing this level of engagement from a high ranking officer.  I remember thinking… what an amazing company XS must be, to inspire such excitement and sincerity.   What I didn’t know at the time was that instead of XS inspiring Darren, it was the other way around.

Attempting to capture the depth and breadth of a life in a meager collection of words is messy at best, ineffectual at worst.  How does one adequately express the complicated tangle of hearts around one man? When I asked XS employees (and former employees) to relate their thoughts, feelings and stories about Darren, I was stunned by the number of replies I received… and as I read through each one (tissues in hand), a theme began to emerge.   What is life, I ask you, but a series of choices?  One piled on top of another into a colorful patchwork of hearts and minds.  Choices that define a life.

The choice to be kind.  Anyone who knows XS knows Ileana… she is brilliant and talented, and no one works harder… but the one thing she can never seem to overcome is the pressure of time.  She is perpetually late for everything.  We affectionately call her punctually challenged.  This foible of his brightest star was a burr in Darren’s side… he was a punctual man.  An early riser.  One of those go-getter types.  He once jokingly told another employee that he had cancer and he managed to get in at 8, so what’s wrong with the rest of us?  Ileana’s struggle with punctuality was an issue for him, I’m sure… how could it not be?   Even so, he was never anything but patient with her, and eventually, he realized that sometimes a point isn’t worth making.  She worked just as late in the evening as she came in, and always put in well more than eight hours a day… it’s tough to argue with someone who works that hard. He realized it was kinder to let it go.  Ileana was worth the trouble, and he knew that.

Kyle, Thad, Darren, Claire, Denee

The choice to laugh.  Some say laughter isn’t a choice – it’s a reflex, a great bubbling up of joy that cannot be contained.  In the physical sense, this could be true… but in the spiritual sense, it’s a decision of character.  It’s not easy, letting your life laugh.  To see humor in silly things.  To poke fun at yourself.  To recognize the absurdity in the world, and giggle in its face.  Darren had a sense of humor that belied his serious countenance.  From naming Jeff Stow the “River Rat” when he won the final card on a river in poker, to calling Paula and her family his “in-laws” when Paula’s 3 year old son announced he was “married” to Darren’s 4 year old daughter (the joyous event was officiated by Darren’s middle daughter, the bride wore a gown of white terry cloth, and the groom wore the best Superman shirt money could buy).

Darren’s love of laughter was rivaled only by his love for pranks.  Last year, he took his daughter on an Indian Princess camping trip.  For the uninitiated, the Indian Princess program is meant to strengthen the bond between fathers and daughters.  For a week, they camp in the wilderness, discuss life, and generally build good morals and survival skills over marshmallows and campfires.  Most of the fathers out there would say this sounds awesome, and it is… but sadly, we here at XS couldn’t forget the “princess” part of this laudable program.

While Darren was gone, his cube was transformed into a mecca for girlish fantasies.  Pink, feathery dream catchers were hung in the window.  Pink satin covered the chair.  Disney princesses discovered a whole new world on his monitor, in his books, and all over his walls.  Pink streamers hung from the ceiling.  His princess tiara awaited him.  His wand at the ready.  In the end, his office became every little girl’s dream, and every grown man’s nightmare.

When he returned from his trip, revitalized and refreshed, he took one look at his office, and did what any reasonable man would do.  He laughed.  He laughed so hard he nearly fell down.  He was so proud of his princess palace, and he left his office in a state of Eau d’Sparkle for months.  I think there are  princess stickers stuck to his monitor to this day.

Darren loved nothing more than a laugh at his own expense.  He used to regale the office with tales of his Mullet days back in Michigan, and laugh when his cube mate,  John, would shoot compressed air through the gap in their cubes, hitting Darren square in the face every time.  One time, I framed an Awkward Family Photo that bore a striking resemblance to a youthful Darren, and posted it in the break room… it disappeared right quick, but not before a good laugh was had.

A self-professed germaphobe, we at XS became used to the acrobatics he’d perform when opening doors with his elbows, or answering phones with his feet (ok… this one might be an exaggeration).  It took some effort, these things, and was a talent he was more than happy to share with others.  Soon, everyone at XS became an elbow-juggling, foot -balancing acrobatic crew.   It was an amazing sight, really, he and Christina balanced on one foot, trying to open a door with their elbows and their toes, tiny T-Rex arms protecting their precious hand cargo.  I really don’t know how one does such things.  I can’t even manage to open a door with both hands without banging my shin.  I told Darren they should take their act on the road, and he just laughed.  “It’s not that bad” He proclaimed.  “Jeff and Chris are far worse than I am!”

The choice to be generous.  It was an early morning flight from the west coast.  Beth, Darren, Thad and a few others were blurry eyed and scraggly tailed.  It had been a trip of wining and dining, and their dispositions had seen better days.  They reeked of exhaustion, and all any of them wanted to do was crawl under something warm and sleep.   The previous day, they had all been in a winery somewhere in Napa Valley; it was a small affair that specialized in a rich, red cab franc.  They fell in love with it, and everyone wanted to bring that cab franc home with them, but no one wanted to transport the bottles.  That’s when Darren’s generous nature stepped in and offered to carry everyone’s bottles back.  Who knows, perhaps he regretted it once the full weight of 6 bottles of wine settled on his shoulders, but if he did… he never let on.  Cheerful as always, he carried those bottles across 3000 bumpy miles; he was happy to give everyone that little bit of Napa in their own back yard.

Of course, the punch line to this story is that they arrived in Raleigh only to discover the wine in question was easily procured at local wine shops… but the irony of the situation doesn’t discount the thought.  In everything, Darren was generous to a fault, and always put his friends and family first, even when it came to seemingly minor details like a great bottle of wine (although perhaps Darren would see nothing minor about a great bottle of wine).

The choice to be happy.  The secret to happiness is a billion dollar industry.  Your local bookstore’s self-help section is jam-packed with treasure maps to bliss.  As a thoughtful, sentient species, it is on the forefront of all of our minds.  How do we find happiness?  Where do we find it?  How do we keep it?  It’s a secret that is known to few, and understood by even less.  However, if anyone knew the path to joy, it was Darren.

As I’m sure everyone knows XS is a company that loves its beer.  From the annual beer tasting event to company sponsored internal activities, beer is a constant, well-loved companion.   Some at XS have raised the bubbly brew to an art form, and can frequently be found discussing such things as the best Stouts on the market, the finer points of IPAs, Lagers and Ales, and the best home brew setup.   In the face of all this beer snobbery, Thad and Darren were self-appointed “Bud Lite Brothers”.  Bud Lite was good enough for them, they said.   They didn’t need those fancy, hipster drinks people like Deuce crow about…  That is, until Darren was brain washed by the cool kids, and left his Bud Lite Brotherhood behind.  He said he finally saw the Lite… pun intended.  No doubt the hipsters are happy to have welcomed a new convert to the fold, but poor Thad… left behind to his watery beer devices.  Thad told Darren that he felt like the Revolutionary War to Darren’s Benedict Arnold to which Darren replied, “Sometimes you have to make hard choices”  Ok, maybe I made that last part up, but it sounds like him, doesn’t it?

Darren and Claire

Darren once said to a former employee, who was preparing for his own wedding, that there is nothing better than being married.  Men would be lost without women.  Lost in every sense of the word – spiritually, emotionally, physically (we all know women are the better navigators, and they don’t mind stopping for directions).   This may seem like a stretch to many of you – men would miss women, surely, but lost?  We’d get by, you say… and perhaps you would, but Darren… those who spent any time with him and Claire consistently commented on how different he was when she was in the room.  Softer, brighter.  More connected.  More alive.  His joy at being in the mere vicinity of his beautiful wife was evident in every fiber of his being.  Conversely, she glowed from within when she was beside him. When he was promoted to VP last year, the principals and their families surprised the two of them at a celebration dinner, and as pleased as Darren was, grinning ear to ear, it was no match for Claire’s quiet exuberance.  She was obviously so proud of her husband.  So happy to be where she was … it was something that was evident to everyone in the room.  What is happiness if not the decision to love another person, and to be loved in return?

The choice to be strong.  Cancer is a cold, calculating beast of an illness.  It takes without thought, warning or remorse.  It has the power to turn our own bodies against us, making us afraid of the very thing tethering us to those we love most.   It is our greatest fear, in our darkest of hearts.  In the years since Darren’s cancer first reared its ugly head, he has had many chances to speak of his illness with various members of the XS family.  Through all the painful procedures, chemo, radiation and surgeries… through things that would have broken lesser men, Darren persevered, calm in spirit and glad of heart.  Thad called it his amazing grace, and I can think of no better way to state it.  He had an amazing grace about him, a faith that many others are unable to match; his faith in God, in his friends, in his family.  Some say that his faith allowed him the strength to endure, but I believe it wasn’t his faith that gave him strength, but his strength – the strength of his character, and of the collection of choices that made him who he was – that gave him faith.

The Patterson Family

The choice to have faith.  Faith is a strong word… it can mean many things.  Faith in God.  Faith in love.  Faith in friendship.  It can mean believing in oneself and in others.  Having confidence that things will work out no matter how strong the opposition.  Darren’s faith was his loudest song.  No matter how dire the predictions, his optimism persisted.  He believed God had a plan, and his faith in the outcome of this plan never wavered.  From keeping XS going after the dot com bust, to committing to a seemingly insurmountable task, to taking cancer head-on, he approached each with equanimity of spirit.

In his career, Darren was known for his confidence in the correctness of things.  I’m sure, he’d say, that we’ll overcome this loss.  We’ll be better tomorrow.  We’ll laugh in the face of whatever life sends our way.  We won’t give in to our fears.  We will be pragmatic and strong.  We will have faith.

In his personal life, Darren had the utmost faith in his family.  In his beautiful girls and their bright futures.  In his lovely, capable wife.  He had faith they could survive any setback, that they were gifted, strong women who together could withstand anything… and what they couldn’t handle, God would take care of.   A great man once said, to love another person is to see the face of God, and I believe no one understood the true meaning of these words more than Darren.

It is a beautiful day; one of sunshine and blue skies… spring is just around the corner, and Mother Nature is stirring.  It’s a day Darren would have loved… a day of bright hope and promise.  A day in which all things are possible.  It is ironic, then, that we face the seemingly impossible on a day such as this.  Today, we at XS mourn the loss of one of our greatest champions.  Someone who believed in us before we believed in ourselves.   Who saw promise in a lost cause, and optimism in the darkest of days.  He helped many of us through rough times, and inspired even more of us to do great things. He was a mentor, a friend, and a brother.  He was a man of kindness, of generosity, of laughter and of faithful strength.  He took every day as it came, cherishing every moment as it was presented to him, living life as only he knew how.

As the days wear on, we will begin to notice his absence.  We will miss him in the smallest of ways, and with the greatest of measures.  We will miss his “Project Update” meetings on weary Friday afternoons.  We will miss his snickering laugh, and his sharp wit.  At lunch time, we will miss his not-so-subtle campaigning for Two Guys, and his constant search for strawberry Starbursts.  We will miss him when we play poker, especially if we win.  We will miss his sage advice and thoughtful counsel over long walks in the sun.  We will miss his unwavering support in tough times, and his fierce loyalty to his team and his company – people he considered family.  We will miss his optimism, his laughter and his smile.  Together we will notice his absence, and together we will miss him.

On this day, we ask that each of you take a moment to reflect on life.  If you knew Darren, remember him in the ways you love best.  If you never had the pleasure, ponder simply your own place in this world, and those you love in it.  Life is harsh, and sometimes its burdens are more than a reasonable man should bear.  The pain too great.  The cost too steep.  In the face of all this, we urge you to find your own faith.  Your own purpose in all this madness.  The thing that keeps you going, and that lends you strength when others falter.  It doesn’t matter whether it’s a faith in God, or in family, or in the simple peace of a quiet afternoon… faith is enough.  It is what drives you home when the road is lost.  Like Darren, have faith in yourself and in your family.  Have faith that things are never as bad as they seem, and have faith that in the end, your life doesn’t define you – you define your life.

When I was a child, the holiday season was one of idyllic joy.  It was nearly unrealistic in its reflection.  It was sleep deferred Christmas Eve’s Midnight Mass, tinged in warm candle light and joyful faces.  It was my mother’s father, smoking in the halo of a single kitchen light, planting kisses on top of my head.  It was my Nona, urging me to sing carols by the old upright piano, my fingers tacky from sweets and my voice breaking.  It was drowsing on a dusky sofa, the noise of my family filling the space around me.  It was sticky-eyed mornings of greasy breakfast feasts.  It was my father’s father wearing a silly holiday apron, dolling out gruff hugs.  It was my grandmother bustling about, laughing in great waves of delight.  It was blinking lights, bits of ribbon and an unfathomable number of brightly wrapped gifts.  It was Frank Sinatra and Dolly Parton.  It was cranberry salad and cookies and great loops of peppermint.  It was firelight and warm PJs.  It was falling asleep, arms wrapped around a newly received doll, heart heavy with joy.  It was simple.  It was complex.  It was family and food and an unparalleled sense of knowing.  I knew who I was.  Who I was supposed to be.  I knew where I belonged.  I knew life in ways only children could.

Now, grown, I feel that knowing fall away.  I am, like many of you, plagued with doubt.  With fear.  I watch the memories I cherish being reformed by the children around me, and I wonder – were my parents plagued by these same thoughts over 3 decades ago?  I suspect they were.  I suspect we all are.  We aren’t so different, you and I.  We all worry about things children rarely contemplate.  We notice things children can’t.  We are aware that not everyone is as happy as we are, not everyone as blessed.  We know that life is fragile, even in all its blustering bravado… that in an instant, a moment, a fraction of a memory… in less time than it takes to think it, a life can be irreversibly altered.  For better or worse.

Recently, a friend received some devastating news.  News that has no business showing its face this time of year.  News with the power to break the carefully tended armor we all wear.  It was news he bore with a strength of thousands.  With cheerful contentment.  With fortitude of spirit, of conviction. With the envy of lesser men.  I do not understand how he does it.  I cannot fathom how I would handle such things.  How I could continue to move, one foot before the other, living out my days as if my world hasn’t just come apart at the seams.  Still, he forges on.  He soothes those around him.  He calms the fears of those he loves.  Of those who love him.  Even in his darkest winter, he has discovered within himself an invincible summer.   He inspires and shames lesser men, for what are our petty concerns in the face of such things?

In this deep December night, on the eve of a new year… as I contemplate the crush of a life demanding, I find my thoughts escaping my grasp.  Like a runaway train, they are inexorably ahead of me.  Rushing forward with the power of a life unknowing.   I have no business thinking the things I think.  Feeling the things I feel.  I am honored in innumerable ways, and I can see my blessings laid out before me like so many stars.  I have a good life.  A great one, even.  I have had hardships, but no more than most.  I am healthy, happy and loved.  Still, I feel powerless.  Small.  I want to beat my hands against the doors of fate.  I want control.  I do not want anyone to suffer as I know they are.  I do not want anyone to hurt.  Especially not now.  Not when the holidays are upon us, and life is transformed.  I do not want anyone to know anything but that warm sense of joy I still recall, so many decades later.

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking I’m a sentimental fool.  I know this because I mirror your thoughts.  I am a fool.  I let my emotions get the better of me.  I write what I feel, and I get caught up in my own drama.  I let my heart race ahead, taking control and spilling its deepest, darkest secrets onto a blank page to be shared with you… who are you?  A stranger to me, and yet someone I know without understanding.   Through you I hear my own voice echoing back to me, across the empty space of heartache.   It gives me clarity of purpose.  Of understanding.  I collect my scattered thoughts, tucking them away into neatly folded pages to be brought out in times of need.  These are words I could never speak aloud.  They are words I will never utter, so foreign to my lips they are.  I am not strong enough to say to your face the things my heart is thinking…. Do not ask this of me.  In my skin, I am a fraction of myself.  I am a fragment of the thoughts racing through me.  I am more than my presence allows.  I suspect we all are…

My hope is that you, reading this, understand me.  Perhaps you are no stranger to the weight of the world.  You know its depths.  You’ve felt its presence.  Perhaps you, like so many others, are struggling beneath the burden of a million tiny pieces of despair, filling you up, stealing your breath, your soul.  Leaving room for little else.   Setting you adrift in uncharted waters beneath a stormy sky.  If you understand me, and I suspect you do… then it’s to you I speak… May the New Year bring you small comforts.  May the holidays grant you a reprieve.  May happiness steal on silent cat’s paws to your side, unbidden, unknown.   May you find solace in unlikely places, and strength hidden within.  May laughter take you unaware.  May you find your reasons, wherever they happen to be.  In a crooked smile, in the hand of a child, in the soft purr of a cat’s coat.  Reasons for life.  For happiness.  For breathing.  May your world be all you want it to be, and more.  May you live.  Greatly, honestly.  With purpose and humor.  May you forge on, no matter what the cost.

A wise man once said: In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.  I hope each of you discovers your own summer, and clings to its brightest days with the strength of a hundred men.  For those are the days that make life worth living.  Every moment a joy unending.

We dig out our woolen hats, and our gloves.  We pull on our boots and wrap our heads in great, looping lengths of scarf.  We turn on the heat, and unearth the sweaters.  We start grousing about the cold.  We start missing the sun.  We gather with those we care about in warm, close kitchens.  We bake pies and cakes, dress turkeys and mash potatoes, fingers sneaking a taste, hand slapped laughter.  Someone sets the table, and gazes from the frost edged windows.  Music is playing.  Something soft and crooning.  Someone laughs.  From the dusk colored sky, our brightly lit lives burn in the darkening evening.  We are an incandescent spot in an otherwise fading world.  As the night draws ever close, the air is scented by bonfires and smoking chimney stacks, and the mind is heavy with the thoughts of love, life and loss.

I was speaking to some coworkers, recently.  A quiet conversation over coffee and a growing silence.  We talked of years past.  People loved and lost.  Joys gained.  Things we could never live without.  Things we don’t want to live without.  Life.  This time of year inspires such conversations.  There’s something haunting about a world in the throes of a beautiful death.  Something heartbreaking and beautiful.  Between us, we found we were thankful for many things, some minor and insignificant, some great and serious.  All important.  All valid.

What are we thankful for?

After a rough political year, we are thankful we live in a country where we can freely express our thoughts, regardless of whether we always agree.  Too many countries… too many people… don’t have such freedoms.  It is a great gift.  We are thankful.

We are thankful to be able to afford to pick and choose the types of food we feed ourselves, and our families.  To be prosperous enough that we can pay extra for organic, or gluten free, or sugar free, or fat free.  We can buy fresh vegetables.  Fruits.  Grain fed beef.  We have options.  We have choice.  Too many people don’t have this luxury, in our country and elsewhere.   Too many people starve for lack of any choice.  We are thankful.

We are thankful for our health.  This year has been tough for some of us here at XS, and we’re thankful to have made it through with our sanity – and our sense of humor – intact.   Health is one of those things we don’t think about until it’s in jeopardy.  We take our bodies for granted.  We assume they’ll just work, when called upon.  Sometimes they betray our wishes.  Our only recourse is to heal, hope and live for the next year.  The next moment.  The next day.  We are thankful.

We are thankful for our homes.  For a warm fire on a cold night.  For sweaters and coats and woolen mittens.   For coffee and chocolate and dark, sweet wine.  For the heady taste of a good beer.  For a stove on which to cook our meals, and table at which to eat them.  For pies and cakes and warm, crusty bread.  We are thankful for our soft beds and cold, solid floors.  For movies and books and brightly lit TV.  We are thankful for hot water heaters, central heating and triple paned windows.  We are thankful for garages to keep the snow off our cars and roofs to keep the rain off our lives.  We are thankful to have the means and the method to take shelter from the storm.  We are thankful.

We are thankful to be employed.  To work in a place where opinions matter, and ideas are encouraged.  Where laughter holds as high of a standard as performance, and where we play just as hard as we work.  Too many people are unemployed this year… too many lives ruined.  We are blessed enough to not only be employed, but to also enjoy what we do.  We are thankful.

Finally, we are thankful for our loved ones.  The ultimate thanks.  For people who know us better than we know ourselves.  Who know our faults, foibles and weaknesses.  Who know what we’re like, when we’re not on display.  Who make us stronger when we feel weak… grounded when we’d float away.  They are those we can call on when we’re feeling blue, and who call on us.  They know what we’re thinking before we think it, and they understand what we want before we want it.  We sacrifice for them, laugh with them and live for them.  They are the reason life has meaning.   Purpose.  They are what gets us up in the morning, and what puts us to bed.  Friends, family, loved ones.  Both here and gone.  We are thankful.

For these things, and so many others…

Now you… what are you thankful for?  Take a moment this Thanksgiving, in between the rush to feed a full table, keep the adults from killing each other, and the kids from fighting.  Take a moment to remember your own blessings. Why we’re all here.  Why we want to continue to be here.   Why your life is fortunate, and why the small things – like whether the turkey is dry or the pecan pie is perfect – don’t matter in the face of such gifts.  Such an amazing joy, this life.  Not perfect.  Never perfect.  There will always be pain, sorrow and loss.  Life is fragile.  Joy is fragile, but when it comes… there is nothing that compares.

We here at XS would like to wish you and yours a joyous Thanksgiving.  May your house be warm, your laughter great and your sorrows few.

I’ve been at XS eight years now, and they have flown by. While I sit here today and look back, I begin to see how my own personal growth as an employee and as an individual parallels the growth that XS has also experienced.

In November 2004, I realized that college was nearing an end and that only meant one thing to me; finding a job where I could make money.  I had met the man of my dreams a year earlier, and I knew I wanted to marry him. However, I also knew I needed to prove to myself and others that I could have a real job and be my own adult before I could possibly get married.  I went on a few interviews but none of them seemed to be the right fit for me.  All of a sudden I got a phone call from XS about a potential internship and that is where my real adventure began.

I came to XS as an inexperienced, young 21 year-old college student destined and ready to take on the world.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be or what I was even good at doing.   However, there was one thing I knew I didn’t want to do and that was making sales calls to people I did not know.  This was a big fear of mine, and that is exactly what I did for the first 3 months I worked at XS.  It was extremely terrifying, but I proved to myself I could do it!

When I first started XS was a relatively small, young company that was looking for new clients, trying to open new doors and figure out what it was that they could offer that no one else could. They challenged themselves to do things that seemed a little bit scary and found success.  Back then the company was less than twenty five employees but the culture was amazing.  I could have not found a better place to land my first job.  In the next eight years the company grew substantially to the 70+ employees it is today.  There were challenges along the way for both of us, but as XS grew so did I; as new challenges were mastered, more challenges were sought.

After a few months that sales internship turned into a full time job as an Account Manager at XS.  Down the road that Account Management position turned into a leadership opportunity within the organization.  I experienced career growth opportunities at XS during the very same time my family outside of work was growing. I got married in 2005 and today I have an amazing husband and two wonderful sons. I am proud to say my family inside and outside of work have exponentially grown.  I met some of the best friends’ I have in life right here at XS.  XS helped me find who I was. The leaders encouraged me and assisted me in finding what it was I was good at.  As with everything it took some time, but today I am on the path to where I want to be both personally and professionally.

My life has definitely changed for the best in the past eight years as I grew up and found myself, but I was not on this adventure alone.  XS was growing right along with me.  Today both of my families (XS and personal) have grown in size.  Our strategies are well defined and our future goals are set.  As we continue on our journey to “reach our potential” I am confident there will be more significant challenges I will encounter as a person and XS will encounter as a business, but as long as we stick by our core principles – Work Hard, Play Fair, Speak Out, Stay Sharp, Dream Big and Have Fun – we will both be ready for the next adventure that comes our way.

Perhaps you are familiar with the tale of Joshua Chamberlain, the man who became the point on which the Civil war turned for the Union army. Chamberlain is the inspiration for countless movies and novels as the Maine schoolteacher who led a tattered, weary group of 80 Union men at Gettysburg on a bayonet charge of 400 Rebel soldiers… and won. What is so spectacular about this particular act of bravery is that had Chamberlain not insisted on charging… had he not been so obstinate, so unwilling to concede – They had no ammunition! They had no chance! – it is quite possible, yet almost nearly certain according to some historians, that the South would have won Gettysburg. As any history buff will tell you, Gettysburg was a pivotal win for the Union army. Without Gettysburg… it is very likely the Union army would have lost the war.

Now, I know this is all speculation… that nothing can be known, that nothing is certain, but imagine Chamberlain’s decision, and how it might have changed the course of history. What would be different today if he had not led that charge over a century ago, and as a result, the United States fractured? The South wanted to secede from the Union, and had they won, they would have done so. We will never know how successful this act would have been, or what would have resulted from it. All we can do is consider the possibilities. Where would civil rights be right now? Without the US powerhouse over the last century, would the Allies have won WWII? Would 9/11 have happened? Where would the world economy be? What would be going on in the Middle East? The questions are endless, the cascading affects great. You could spend years exploring all the possibilities… this rabbit hole is deep.

I am not writing this to share with you my thoughts on history or current events. I’m writing this to illustrate a persistent train of thought that’s been looping through my head over the last month. Recently, I reconnected with an old high school friend, and through him, I discovered something I never previously knew about myself, two decades ago. Something small and insignificant that, had I known then what I know now, would have had the power to change the course of my own little boat in a stormy sea. This isn’t to say I have regrets – I do not. Who I am now was shaped by the waters of chance, and I rather like who I turned out to be. This is only to say, what if?

Now you, dear reader. Think about where you are today. Your life, family and career. Think about all the tiny decisions, lined up like so many dominoes cascading to this point in time. Are you where you thought you’d be, 20 years ago? Are you close? Are you who you thought you’d be? Are you happy with your destination? With your journey? With your boat in a stormy sea?

I do not mean to inspire a wave of melancholy sadness as we all drown in a sea of what ifs and shoulda-beens. My point is to emphasis to each of you, in a way that has only recently been emphasized to me, that no matter how small one moment is, or one person, or one event…even the smallest butterfly can impact an entire landscape of reality. A fraction of the sum of the whole can frame the entire picture. You can make a difference. We can make a difference. A moment can save the world, or lose it. Maybe not every moment, but the real comedy of it all is that it’s impossible to tell what moment is the moment of impact. What second will be the second that matters, and so it is important that we treat every moment as if it, and only it, matters.

A line from one of my favorite poems by TS Eliot says, In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. Indeed, in a minute there is time for many things… much more than you or I realize. The fate of a world could be crammed into the space between breaths. Between heart beats. Our fate could change in an instant, and just as fast, change back. Our life is an endless cascade of decisions, tumbled one on top of the other, piling up below where we stand. Holding us aloft. Decisions that change the way we think, act and feel. Decisions that could impact not just you, and those around you, but change the landscape for people you’ve never met, and never will meet. Your life has great influence, even if you wish it otherwise. Treat it with respect. With reverence. With honor. You may get things wrong, but in the end… if you believe it so, it will be right.
Go.

Personally, I do a little of whatever they’ll let me do! Volunteering has always been a big part of my life. In high school, I graduated with the most community service hours in our class. During college, I was a member of many teams and social clubs, which supported various volunteer activities. Even after joining the work force, my first employer encouraged us to donate to charities that they were affiliated with. It wasn’t until a few years later that I was really compelled to take a more active role in getting involved.

After a five year battle with ovarian cancer, I lost my mother Maria in January 2010. As hard as that was, and continues to be, it’s also helped shape the person I am today. Watching her fight this disease really pushed me to get more involved with charities aimed at fighting cancer and finding a cure.

Last year I was introduced to the Gail Parkins Memorial Ovarian Cancer Walk and 5K Run by a friend of mine. She had participated in the race before, and knowing about my mom, encouraged me to join their team. Not being someone who particularly loves to run, I was skeptical, but I signed up. It was a rain soaked morning, but that didn’t stop thousands of people from coming out and participating. 2012 marked the 10th anniversary of the walk.

This year I didn’t just join a team, I formed my own! Maria’s Mob was formed with the help of my twin sister, Alexis. We bombarded our friends and family with emails, Facebook posts, and text messages, hoping to build our team. Come race day, Maria’s Mob had raised over $4,000 and had 17 team members join us for the run! One of our team members even finished first in her age group. Overall, over 3,000 participants helped raise over $328,000 that was donated to the Duke GYN Oncology Division! Who knew running could be so much fun, and so rewarding? Events like these are a great way to ‘get active and get involved’, my own personal motto.

So what’s your personal motto, and how are you going to live it every day? Here at XS we have a very diverse group, with wide ranging passions. Even if you’re not up to forming your own team (yet), there are plenty of ways to get involved! I’ve already signed up for my next charity race, along with some amazing co-workers and friends. I encourage everyone to get involved. No matter what your cause, there are plenty of opportunities out there to do some good in the world.

For information on Ovarian Cancer and to learn more about early symptoms please visit http://www.ovarianawareness.org.

What are the basics of SCRUM-ban?

SCRUM-Ban is a combination of the terms SCRUM and Kanban. Kanban is Japanese and means Visual Card.   XS, Inc.™ has adopted this project management approach on multiple projects and have found this works best for projects where the scope of work and/or priorities of work change on a frequent basis or projects that are primarily in a support or maintenance phase.

Visualization of Workflow – A key component of SCRUM-ban is using a visual representation of the workflow and work items. The attached images show whiteboard and digital versions of a visual SCRUM-ban board we use here at XS, Inc. ™

Pull not Push – In traditional SCRUM a team is assigned all of the work they must complete at the start of the iteration. As each step of the workflow is completed, the work item is “pushed” to the next step in the process. In SCRUM-ban, the work is put into queue and work is “pulled” into the next step once there is capacity to do so.

Limits Work-In-Progress (WIP) – In SCRUM-ban there is a limit placed on the number of work items in any one step of the workflow at a given time. This helps keep the team focused on completing work at-hand before beginning a new task. The primary benefits of these limits are reduced task switching and a team focus committed to completing work that is already in progress.

Time-boxes are out – Kanban removes the iteration or sprint that is a key part of traditional SCRUM and changes the focus to moving work items through the workflow as efficiently as possible while delivering those items only when they are 100% complete. This also allows the time spent in sprint planning and sprint retrospective meetings, which take place during traditional SCRUM, to be focused on completing work in a non-stop flow. Another benefit of this approach is increased flexibility in how resources on a team are used to complete work. In traditional SCRUM all resources are assigned a full iteration of work that must be completed within a given time frame, while in Kanban, resources can be re-arranged as needed to complete work that is already in progress. This approach also provides for more collaboration between resources as each resource is not starting a four to six week sprint with their own full load of work.

Estimates are optional (but still helpful) – Accurate point estimation is a key factor in tracking velocity and driving sprint planning in traditional SCRUM. For example, lead time and cycle time are more important when determining when work items are delivered to the customer (deployed to production). Estimating user stories provides value for planning work over a longer period of time and tracking lead and cycle time more granularly. This results in the team spending significantly less time analyzing and estimating work items that may end up as low priority on the backlog.

For me, I am not sure how I ever got anything done before digital communication.  I can handle questions and conversations on a timeline that works for me, and it allows the time I require to formulate my thoughts.  Plus, with my education and background in writing, I tend to just sound… better, in print.  I stumble and flub my way through vocal communication, and will usually say things I regret.  I’m often told I talk too fast, or that I mumble.  I say the wrong words, or pronounce them incorrectly (especially words I’ve only ever seen in print).  I tend to skip from thought to thought, saying only a word or two from each fully formed mental image, which utterly confuses and annoys the recipient of my verbal flashcards.  I don’t chat easily.  In short, I’m not exactly an accomplished orator.

Don’t misunderstand me – I’m not someone who wants to shut themselves in a dark room and do nothing but talk on the computer all day… I do like human contact, but when it comes to my career and work specific tasks… I vastly prefer digital discussions over verbal ones.  Why?  Well, besides the aforementioned personal skill level, digital communication comes with a permanent record.  Everything you say is logged (or could be).  You’re accountable for each and every word.  Nothing is forgotten.  Nothing overlooked.  Nothing denied.  As an embarrassingly honest person with a scattered memory, I find this accountability soothing.  Similarly, people tend to let their guard down in email and IM.  Despite the higher accountability, most people feel less threatened by the printed word, and this allows for more genuine conversations.  Maybe it’s because we spend more time on thinking of what to say, and less time trying to figure out what to do with our feet, or how we should hold our hands… (Does anyone else have these issues?  I spend half my brain power trying to figure out how to stand, where to stand, how to hold my arms… my hands… it’s mentally exhausting.  Is it just me?)

Despite my love for the printed word, at XS, I seem to be in the minority.  XS is a company of sound.  I don’t mean that in a negative way… sound is beautiful.  What I mean is – people don’t type what they can say.  Their words fill up the hallways, and overflow conference rooms.  Huddled over desks and cube walls, they toss sentences through the air like so many red balloons.   The cacophony of ideas that tumble between these walls can be inspiring, and it is this ebb and flow that fills every space… every breath, every moment.  It’s lovely in its symphony, sometimes, to hear them, brought together by a common purpose, sharing what only they can share.  Despite my preference, I am envious of those for whom speaking is an art form… who excel at the delicate dance that is inflection and body language.  No doubt, like any good performance, there is a lot more going on behind the curtain… but nonetheless… it appears, in a word, perfect.

What, then, would we lose if everyone subscribed to my ideas around digital communication?  What if no one felt comfortable talking out their thoughts… if no one spoke what they can type?  What would we lose, in that?   Something vital and beautiful, perhaps.  We’d be trading a symphony for a song.  Both can be lovely, but only one takes an orchestra to create.

Now, tell me, how do you like to communicate?  Do you prefer not firing your mouth until you can see the whites of their eyes?  Are you lost without the body language cues and facial expressions?  Do you find inflection and emphasis vital in getting your sarcasm across?  Or, are you like me, and prefer to let your fingers do the talking?

Whatever your personal preference, the key to a successful communication isn’t one over the other.  As with everything, the crux lies in adaptation and generosity.  We must meet each other halfway.  Talk when you’d rather not.  Type when you’re itching to get up and talk.   A productive relationship lies in understanding the needs of another person, and doing what you can to accommodate them.  If you are generous in your nature, and you are working with people who are generous in theirs, you will find that common ground is more easily reached.  Goals are achieved more often.  It’s about give and take, not domination.   We are all blessed, here at XS, to be working with generous personalities, and my hope is that all of you are similarly blessed.  We can be successful together, you and I.

When my friend flashed her ring finger at me with eyes alight, I was unreasonably fraught with doubt.   I wanted to be happy for her.  I did. I wanted to squeal and chirp, exclaiming at her good fortune and happiness.  Instead, I felt my stomach drop into my shoes.   It wasn’t the institution of marriage I objected to, despite the fact that my own divorce had only recently been finalized; it was her choice in a husband.  Her fiancé was a world class cheater.  He’d already slept around twice that we knew of, and each time, my friend took him back.  He also had problems with money, and couldn’t seem to hold down a job.  He wasn’t violent or dangerous.  He just did not deserve my sweet, kind friend.  I wanted her to be happy, and knowing how hard marriage could be – I knew her happiness was in doubt.

I tried discussing the matter with her… but she was having none of it.  It had caused more than a couple fights between us.  She refused to believe that his transgressions were anything more than a problem her love could solve.  She defended him endlessly, and suggested that if I made her choose… well, I wouldn’t win.  So when she asked me to be in the wedding party, I was conflicted.  On one hand, I firmly believe that everyone should be given the chance to make their own mistakes.  We all deserve to be spectacularly wrong at least once.  On the other, by accepting the invitation, I would be implicitly blessing the union… and bless it I could not.

What should I have done?  What would you do?

Would you accept the invitation, and keep your mouth shut, letting her go through with one of the biggest mistakes of her life?  Imagine if you’d already made a similar mistake, and knew the emotional toll the break up would take… how much harder would it be for you to see someone you love going down a similar path?  Could you stay silent – a smile plastered on your face?

Would you turn down the invitation, stating expressly why, and be forced to watch that light flicker and die in her eyes?  Eyes you’ve known for almost as long as you’ve been alive?  It would mean losing a friendship with a history you could never replace.  How much are you willing to sacrifice for your principals?

Would you accept, but use the additional exposure to continually persist with your objections?  Even knowing your friend is wildly stubborn and loyal to a fault, and your continual pressure might cause her to fall deeper into the pit of her decision?  That the more you push, the more she’ll push back?  You could gamble and lose it all.  Is it worth it?

Life is full of ethical dilemmas like this one.   Problems that have no clear right answer.  Life isn’t like an algebra problem, with the solution laid before us in black and white.  It’s riddled with indecision and doubt, where every turn brings a new problem with no answer other than the one our heart and our head lead us to.  Maybe you’re one of those confident people who make decisions without conflict… who have no problem picking a side in an unwinnable war.  Myself, I agonize over every small choice.  I make decisions based on a lifetime of mistakes, lessons and third party observations.  Regrets, I’ve had a few… and all these things have inspired a moral compass without a true North.  I want to see all sides, to understand, before I commit.  I need to believe I have made the right choice, and sometimes, this requires outside discussion in addition to internal contemplation.

So I ask you, what would you have done?  Are you interested in what I did?  Didn’t do?  Does it matter?  Are you interested in what others think?  In what a priest decides is the right decision, or a professor of ethics believes?  Are these opinions of importance to feeding your own sense of right and wrong?  In centering your moral compass?  How do you grow and learn without listening to voices not your own?  If you hear nothing that contradicts your core ideas, how can complete understanding grow?

Recently, I was asked to donate some of my free time towards a new project here at XS.  Now, if you know me, you know I rarely donate my free time to any side projects – at least, not ones related to development.  I like my time away from work to be as code free as possible.  This one, though… this one is different.  It’s called the Ethics Engine, and it promises to open the lines of communication between those who might never otherwise connect.  It allows people of differing backgrounds and belief systems to have frank, open discussions about the right choices in impossible situations. With challenging dilemmas conceived of by great minds in education, religion and psychology, if it doesn’t make you speak out, it’s sure to make you think.  The idea excites me.  Nothing interests me more than hearing the opinions of others, and if you’re like me, you should be excited, too.

What if I told you that I solved my own ethical dilemma by continuing to push my friend, but accepting her invitation?  What if I told you it backfired, and I ended up in periwinkle lace with a fake smile on my face?  What if I told you she got divorced last year?   What if I told you, instead, that her marriage lasted, and her fiancé did finally clean up his act – that they are wildly happy, and I was wrong.  Would knowing the outcome make the decision any easier?  What do you think I should have done?  What would you have done?