Paean For Tumacacori
Last week I spent a few hours visiting the Mission San José de Tumacácori. It was established in 1691 in the Santa Cruz River Valley of southern Arizona. Following a stormy history involving a Pima Indian rebellion, Mexico’s War of Independence from Spain, and Apache raids, it was abandoned by 1848 and began falling into disrepair. Preservation and stabilization efforts began in 1908 when the area was declared a National Monument.
I’ll let my photos and a few quotes from the mission’s early years speak for themselves, and I’d love to hear what you take away from them.
Great Service Times Three
Some years ago I consulted to a company that wanted to improve customer service. The team that designed the improvement program decided to forgo theory, models, talks, videos, expert input, and any of the other paraphernalia that generally populates training programs. Instead, we gathered employees together, asked them to tell stories about great service that they had received, and then asked them what they might emulate from the stories and what they needed in order to do that. You know it when you see it.
I count this among the best experiences of my organization development career. I heard some wonderful stories and the company found evidence that the program was a success.
Meaning-Making Is Both Blessing And Curse
…my mind often buzzes with questions about mundane events…
Red Mountain is in close-up view from a picnic area on the southern bank of the Salt River a few miles north of Mesa, Arizona, where the Bush Highway enters the south-west corner of the nearly three million acre Tonto National Forest. I sat there alone at a weathered and rickety picnic bench one day last week, my attention divided between the mountain and a narrow strip of river where a breeze rippled the surface and trout leaped. I had a notebook in front of me to record what I saw, thought and felt.
My Place In The Grand Scheme Of Things
Two recent experiences showed me just how insignificant I am when measured on a scale more grand than my own immediate concerns (which can loom as monumental if I let them).
Grains Of Sand
The first experience was stimulated by an exhibit in the underground Johnson Geo Centre in St. John’s, Newfoundland. The exhibit consisted of four clear acrylic towers, standing in a line, each of them containing a quantity of sand, each grain of sand representing one year.
