Every year the same poem, the same
lament, the same sickness. What if
things don’t get better, merely more
tolerable? What if we lay down our
lives and nothing grows over us—
Some talk during movies.
Others crack their knuckles,
drink to excess, buy things
they don’t need, make
mountains out of molehills.
These are the moments, between work
and sleep, running from one task to
the next, I catch my breath, relax.
Since, as the CEO of a nonprofit, I spend a lot of time raising money from donors and, more importantly, deploying those dollars for impact, I thought I’d share how I think about my personal giving–and where I give.
Born with a Stradivarius in hand,
Andy struggled to prove worthy of its wood
His head was often cocked to the side,
like a dog begging the Big Dipper for a treat
Who then would touch their torch to the sky,
bring down a raw, pure flame—
make light of so much devastation?
It’s all too much, the floor strewn with gifts
we couldn’t possibly deserve. But our son
is happy, going from toy to toy, and so
are we, smiling along with him as he plays
with the train, the trucks, the scooter.
You should know I find it easier
to write of climate change than love,
that time’s passage hurts in ways
drought cannot.
I choose to make a stand on the beaches even as the waters rise and the sun bears down hotter than ever. And I choose to do so with a spirit of love, joy, righteous anger, and deep sadness.
It is a fallacy to claim that because only one political party opposes this rising threat, fighting for the preservation of American democracy is a partisan issue. If a train is on the verge of crashing into a group of pedestrians, the political affiliation of the conductor is immaterial to the task at hand: saving lives.
I am the Founder & CEO of Capital Good Fund, a nonprofit social venture seeking to tackle poverty through financial services. I am also a writer, poet, cyclist, and avid reader. Enjoy my blog!