Real Cowboys Wanted So Corporate America Can Survive

Standing firmly inside a well lit multicolored classroom painted with anxious imaginations is surreal. Almost plastic like. Not false as in something not truly happening. More along the lines of why is it happening? Sharing chapters and or experiences is like digging through a box of childhood toys explaining each dirt stained dent and ding in a metal Tonka truck. A large knoll bathed in dried weeds and the occasional wild flower unexpectedly reappears within the minds alley way, next to a ditch designed to wash away memories...but a few are grabbed by water skippers skating across the open plain hoping to find value in their chase. What one might see as earth stacked to keep floods from interrupting, the child finds no reason to call it wasted space in his or her race to become an adult. All mountains, no matter how tall, short, fat, thin or skyscraping are seeds that grow by way of ambition. Think about it... The planet is urged to splurge exploding into fads of action scientists call earthquakes, trimmers, volcanoes and an overabundance of red ants. What's the first to grow or in Mount St Helens case...shower the layers once seemingly perfect just being a rolling act feeding what could one day be a desert? Almost too real in a life designed by fantasy... Biting at the bit to find input the students swiftly sift through web pages; sports, local news, fashion, music, Hollywood versus the remnants of the Summer Olympics in London. With so much action through their attraction to fearless computer screens I found myself questioning the purpose of my being there. Maybe you can learn how to ski by reading a book. Methods of madness begin when the process of questioning your self selected journey takes on the shape of doubt. What could I say? What will I share? How can I un-father-like demand? Where can I take them without showcasing ego? Is it ego if what's shared required uncut guts, confidence and self taught leadership to maintain a ship headed for a horizon seen only in my head? How long before what's been collected instantly unwinds the moment they find fame? Do you see the picture being landscaped? Stepping back is the required art. If needed...start from the beginning. Then ask, "I think but is it wrong to wonder? Can I assume without learning how to tie shoes?" Robert McAfee Brown said, "Storytelling is the most powerful way to put ideas into the world today." The authors of the book The Pin Drop Principle pen out, "All great communicators understand the power of narrative." Stop... How often do you feel disconnected from friends, coworkers, family and or someone you just met during a weekend celebration only to run to the nearest bathroom to smell your breath or armpits? Storytelling personal experiences brings your audience closer. A willingness to be real isn't conceit. The physical presentation of face to face conversation isn't loneliness. To share isn't human error or emperor. Storytelling is extremely important because its availability in a relationship is having the courage to trust. If VH-1 ever decided to do a Behind The Music on radio people I'd meet them in Ranchester, Wyoming. Dining room tables at 4:30 AM feed not just the stomachs of real cowboys and girls braving the odds of prairie survival but the mind and soul are empowered by a craft called Bull Shitting. (Storytelling) Decked out in weathered blue jeans, hearty leather boots, bent wired framed glasses and out of respect for the host no sweat shaped hats; every morning starts with a firm, "Good morning." Then the storytelling begins. Chronicles about calves getting too close to the Tongue river, the safest way to eliminate a prairie dog city that's popped up near the top of the hill next to the area where Connie located what she's always called chunks of last night's meteorite shower. Eggs are cut, bacon devoured, the scent of cow manure hangs fresh in the prints they'll soon make. Decisions on who'll mend the fence to minding the bum sheep are made. The milk cow isn't giving like she used to be. What if irrigating through aged pumps was replaced this fall by longer poles that move with the fields of wheat, barley and pastures of shale once assumed clay? Trust... A man's word is the law. If not followed...the choices you make and or made become the stories told at lunch then dinner. Life like this couldn't, wouldn't and shouldn't happen in the big city. Especially a class room flooding with fresh blossomed ideas baited with incredible fertilizer to feed a hungry broadcast nation. The meat is too tender. Not a cowboy I know that wants to sink his trust into a thin piece of protein. So we settle. In doing so our workloads have quadrupled. We're pretending to be strong. Am I wrong in sharing this storytelling? It's the World Wide Web baby! Someone in Korea, France, Germany, Mexico, Latvia and Russia will pick this blog up and realize in 2012 we're all cowboys set free to take care the fields that make up today and tomorrow. The reason is fed by a future required to plow the old with the new so that rebirth can be experienced over and over. All this while American's sit back shouting until they're blue in the face, "It's not my job!" I will always believe in you first... arroe@arroe.net