Phillip Berry | Orient Yourself

About 25 years ago, we made one of those impulsively silly purchases we couldn’t really afford which turned out to be one of the best purchases we’ve ever made: a brand new piano. Our glossy black Young Chang has inhabited what has affectionately come to be known as our “music room,” what used to be called a formal living room in the front of our house that now serves as si...

“Peace, brother.” The words hung in the air and floated a bit before flowing over my heart like warm water in a salon hair wash. The sensation was startling, unexpected. A lovely part of the Catholic Mass is a moment when congregants turn to one another and offer a sign of peace, normally a handshake or a wave. The firm handshake and warm greeting caught me by surprise in its deep sinc...

“Pop.” I awoke to Cooper’s whisper but when I opened my eyes, he wasn’t there. Disoriented for a moment, I realized I was coming out of a dream which was simultaneously real and surreal. Moving into my morning routine, walked down the stairs to a house that was lit by the full moon casting its reflected sunlight through windows in the front and the back. Looking into our ba...

The post below was written in March, 2021. One of the truly beautiful things about such reflections is returning to them with new eyes. A quick survey of nearly fourteen years of posts yields so many learning moments worth relearning…or at least remembering. A great gift of our human journey is the opportunity to meet ourselves in new ways in old moments revisited. Why did this post find me...

Last week, I had the opportunity to attend the SENT Ventures Summit in Denver. The Summit is an annual event that brings Catholic builders (business and ministry) together to share, learn, and encourage, along the way to building world-class ventures that blend operational excellence with living Christian values. This year’s event encompassed keynotes from leading voices on numerous topics &...

One of the fascinating aspects of the onslaught of artificial intelligence has been the evolving debate around what it means to be human. At its most basic level, it seems absurd that there is any debate, after all we all know a human being when we see one. But AI has evolved to such a point of emulating human language and thinking that humans have begun to interact with it as-if it were another h...

She’s been there, god knows she’s been there She has seen and done it all She’s a woman, she knows how to dish it out or take it all Her heart’s as soft as feathers, still she weathers stormy skies And she’s a sparrow when she’s broken But she’s an eagle when she flies I heard Dolly Parton’s song, Eagle When She Flies , for the first time the other n...

I was recently asked to react to a series of common business platitudes. One of the firing-line expressions was “culture eats strategy for breakfast.” The expression is frequently attributed to famed management guru Peter Drucker, though a quick search indicates that the attribution is probably not true. However, I think the expression is meant to reflect much of the spirit of Drucker&...

A young family in our neighborhood recently had to vacate their house due to a mold problem. The mold had settled in their HVAC system and for many months had been pumped into all corners of their house, contaminating virtually everything. Watching over the course of a week as workers from the remediation company gutted their home was heart-breaking. Curiously, a couple of our own family members a...

This week-end, my five-year-old grandson, Fulton, decided he was ready to ride a bike. I can’t really speak to his decision process. From my vantage point, there was very little forethought, discussion, preparation, practice, or arm-wrestling with doubt. He literally got on a bike and started riding it. There was some faltering uneasiness and the necessary cycles of finding his balance, but...

Living Water The clear, cool water rushed downstream. Following the narrow canyon, the stream moved over rocks, through small falls, into the nooks of boulders, and then eddied back into the fast moving flow. The steep stone wall of Mt. Zion rose before us, and the colors of moving shirts could be seen above as people hiked through the wooden flume that used to carry water down the mountain to Gol...

Threads. The many colored elements of life which seem to appear randomly, then reappear curiously, until finally revealing some aspect of a greater tapestry that can only be seen with time, distance, and perhaps the flash of insight. Interestingly, the “thread” element has recurred for me in multiple places this week, prompting some reflection on the nature of these strands that often...

Time, flowing like a river Time, beckoning me Who knows when We shall meet again, if ever But time keeps flowing Like a river to the sea From Time by Alan parson Jumping into the warm pool yesterday, I felt like I had stepped into a stream which had stopped. This was the grip of a moment…a moment I knew would slip through my fingers as all do, but sat freeze-framed for the split second of th...

Earlier this week, market strategist and geo-political commentator, John Singer, released an essay entitled Losing the Plot . He opens the piece with a story about a young woman posing in sultry fashion for a photo while sitting on the train tracks that run directly into Auschwitz, the Nazi death camp where over a million people were murdered during World War II. “The woman is lying on the t...

Can you remember a time when you walked on this earth unencumbered with self-consciousness? A moment when you dressed, spoke, played, danced, laughed, or raged without concern for appearance, judgment, or consequence? For most reading this, the answer is “no, I cannot,” because you were probably 3 or 4 years old. The three-year-old is absolutely consumed with self: it’s all about...

During a long drive about two weeks ago, the song Changes , by David Bowie, came on the radio. Bowie and his music have been on my mind ever-since. It’s kind of odd, I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a fan. Released in 1972, neither the song nor Bowie were a household music staple in my youth. His 1983 album, Let’s Dance burst into my musical world through his iconic MTV debut v...

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame; As tumbled over rim in roundy wells Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name; Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came. We’...

In the 2021 movie, Dune: Part I , the young Paul Atreides submits to the Gom Jabbar , a test administered by the leader of an order of semi-mystical priestesses. In the test, he must put his hand inside a small black box while the priestess holds a poison-laced needle near his neck; the test is to see whether or not he can keep his hand in the box as it heats up to excruciating levels of pain. Rem...

During the preceding week, a flurry of thank you cards found their way to our house. Apparently, some of our grandchildren found them to be a great canvas for artwork, practicing writing their letters and words, testing new metallic markers, and for actually writing “thank you” note. Some of these envelopes were hand delivered in a running, pony express, across our backyard and some fo...

This Memorial Day week-end seems like an appropriate time for a brief reflection on fear as we remember those who “ gave the last full measure of devotion .” Anyone spending a few honest moments at one of our war memorials cannot help but feel the frightening awe and gravity of the “ultimate sacrifice.” Because of such sacrifices, most of us will never know the fear and dou...

Sometimes I feel I might touch eternity – Lewis tells me that now Is its closest point. from Resonant Tension , Phillip Berry In a note to me last year, my sister called me a “serial reflectionist.” Not long afterward, I started a post with the title above and stopped after the first paragraph. I decided that I needed a bit more reflection before engaging with my sister’s creativ...

The Basilica was dark. Drawn to the nondescript exterior by the striking blue doors, we walked-in to what felt like the thousandth church that day. It was a comfortable day in Rome and the sun was beginning to set, casting shadows across the piazza and darkening the narrow, cobblestone alleys that formed the seemingly endless labyrinth of this old city. A caretake emerged from the dark, seeming so...