Nan S. Russell
Author & Speaker

All posts in October, 2016

drum-publicdomain-jpeg“He who cannot dance will say: the drum is bad.” Too many people I’ve encountered use a philosophy akin to this African proverb to navigate their work. It’s easier to blame the drum or the boss, the co-worker or the company. Easier to criticize the workload, the training or lack of it, the pay or one’s upbringing. And easier to fault anything and everyone rather than their own actions, choices, and results.

I hear too many creative excuses and too much blaming and finger pointing from people honing the craft of deflecting reflection. To them, it’s always the drum or the drummer, never the dancer. Excuses. Excuses. Excuses. Blame. Blame. Blame.

You’ll recognize them from their mantras: “It’s not (continue reading →)

Winning at Working 

I’m a colleague of Nan’s. And, I often post on Current Musings about work, life and the intersection of the two. With so much noise coming towards us every minute of the day and night – from tweets, posts, texts, to phone messages, TV, news media; you get the idea, it’s challenging to have quiet moments to ourselves.

This week, I finally captured two hours to unplug from everyone, everything and just ‘be’. Like you, there are many things grabbing my attention and gnawing at me. So it’s difficult to slow my mind,  jumping from one thought to another but I persisted. Fast-forward: I believe it was time well-spent; I have a healthier perspective, improved focus and increased energy. If you happen to have similar feelings, schedule a couple of hours for YOU!

One of my gnawing thoughts had to do with apologies. Too many (continue reading →)


weeds-publicdomain-jpgAs I write from an upstairs home office, I can see the weeds, each day appearing more robust than the day before. A variety of them abound — thick, tall ones reaching more than two feet, and pointy, prickly ones spreading as definitive tuffs across the yard. There are sticker bushes and vine-like crawlers fighting for space, too.

Every morning timed sprinklers nourish the weeds’ thirst and accelerate their growth. One enterprising weed even broke through the asphalt in front of the house to caress a white Subaru that hasn’t moved in months. There are people, decades younger than me, who live in the house. They emerge most days via car or motorcycle, zooming off as if in quick retreat.

The weeds weren’t there when we moved to this neighborhood a few months ago. Back then, the house didn’t (continue reading →)

In the Scheme of Things