Category Archives: Inspiration

August 26, 2026

I Will Always Love You, Dolly 🦋

By Joe
🩷 Dolly Parton 🦋 1946-2026 🩷

Yesterday, the world lost one of its brightest stars.

Dolly Parton died at the age of 80, and while there have been celebrity deaths that have saddened me over the years, this one has hit me particularly hard. I have cried a lot since hearing the news. It feels strange to grieve someone I never knew personally, but I suspect millions of people around the world are feeling much the same way.

Most people knew Dolly as a singer, songwriter, actress, and entertainer. She gave us “Jolene,” “Coat of Many Colors,” “9 to 5,” and, of course, “I Will Always Love You.” She was one of the greatest songwriters country music ever produced, with an unmistakable voice, an unmistakable appearance, and that wonderful laugh that I think I will always hear whenever I picture her.

But Dolly Parton was so much more than an entertainer.

She founded the Imagination Library in 1995 because her father could not read or write. What began as an effort to provide books to children in her home county in Tennessee grew into an international program that has given hundreds of millions of books to children. She gave money to families who lost their homes in the devastating 2016 wildfires in East Tennessee. She supported hospitals, education, disaster relief, and countless other causes. During the COVID-19 pandemic, her $1 million donation to Vanderbilt University Medical Center helped fund research that contributed to the development of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine.

She didn’t just sing about making the world a better place. She put her money, her time, and her name behind actually doing it.

And now we know something that makes one of her final acts of generosity even more remarkable.

After Dolly’s death, it was revealed that she had been privately battling cancer. In January, to celebrate her 80th birthday, Dolly released a new version of “Light of a Clear Blue Morning,” joined by Lainey Wilson, Miley Cyrus, Queen Latifah, and Reba McEntire. The proceeds were designated for pediatric cancer research at Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt.

Dolly was fighting cancer herself, and she released a song to help children fighting cancer.

Someone writing about the song after her death put it perfectly: “Even while she was sick she was still thinking about others.”

That may be one of the best summaries of Dolly Parton I’ve heard.

Dolly promoted plenty of things during her long career. She was a brilliant entertainer and an equally brilliant businesswoman, and she certainly knew how to generate publicity. But some of the things that seemed to matter most to her—the things she did simply to help other people—were often done with surprisingly little fanfare.

Because the point wasn’t that Dolly Parton was helping.

The point was that someone needed help.

She didn’t announce that she was battling cancer when she released “Light of a Clear Blue Morning.” She didn’t make herself part of the story. She could easily have revealed her diagnosis and made the release about her own struggle with the disease. Instead, she directed the attention toward children with cancer and the doctors and researchers trying to save them.

Even at the end, when she had every reason to think about herself, Dolly was thinking about somebody else.

There is something almost unbearably beautiful about the song she chose, too. Dolly originally wrote “Light of a Clear Blue Morning” nearly fifty years ago as a song about emerging from darkness and believing that something brighter lies ahead. At 80 years old, while privately facing cancer, she returned to that message of hope—not to ask the world to hope for her, but to offer hope to others.

That was Dolly.

And for LGBTQ+ people, Dolly was something even more special.

Gay men have adored Dolly for generations. She knew it, joked about it, and embraced it. But underneath the rhinestones and jokes was something important: she embraced us.

Long before supporting LGBTQ+ people became commonplace among entertainers, Dolly made it clear that she wasn’t interested in judging people for whom they loved or who they were. After the horrific attack at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, she said something that, to me, sums up her attitude toward faith and other people better than almost anything else she ever said: “I am not God, I am no judge, I just know that God loves us all.”

Those are words a lot more Christians could stand to remember.

Dolly became one of our great heroes, one of our biggest divas, and one of the truest straight allies the LGBTQ+ community has ever had. I think part of the reason gay people loved her so fiercely was because Dolly understood something about being yourself in a world that constantly tells you how you’re supposed to be.

One of my favorite Dolly stories illustrates that perfectly. She used to tell about secretly entering a Dolly Parton look-alike contest at a gay club in Los Angeles. She exaggerated the Dolly look even further and entered alongside drag queens impersonating her.

And Dolly lost.

Nobody recognized that the real Dolly Parton was among them, and apparently the judges didn’t think Dolly made a particularly convincing Dolly. Instead of being offended, she thought the whole thing was hilarious. There is something wonderfully Dolly about losing a Dolly Parton look-alike contest to drag queens and turning it into one of your favorite stories to tell.

That sense of humor was such an important part of who she was. Dolly could laugh at herself endlessly, but I cannot remember ever hearing her publicly humiliate someone else for a laugh. She understood the difference between being funny and being cruel.

And nobody was more willing to make Dolly Parton the punchline than Dolly Parton.

She created an image that was deliberately over-the-top: the enormous blond wigs, the makeup, the rhinestones, the high heels, the famously exaggerated figure. She joked about all of it, usually at her own expense. She famously said that it cost a lot of money to look this cheap.

Yet underneath all that artifice was someone remarkably genuine.

Maybe that is one of the great lessons Dolly gave us. Authenticity doesn’t mean stripping away everything colorful or flamboyant about yourself. You can dress up. You can put on the wig. You can wear too much makeup and cover yourself in rhinestones. You can be outrageous and glamorous and larger than life—and still be completely, unapologetically yourself.

For someone whose public image was so carefully constructed, Dolly Parton may have been one of the most real celebrities we ever had.

And then there was Dolly’s faith.

Dolly grew up in the Church of God and spoke throughout her life about God, prayer, and the Christian faith that shaped her childhood. But as she grew older, her understanding of faith became broader and less tied to organized religion. In a 2024 interview, she even said, “I wouldn’t even say I’m religious, though I grew up with that background.” She spoke instead about a universal spiritual force that could be understood as God, Mother Nature, Father Time, or a higher wisdom.

And yet, for someone who hesitated to call herself religious, Dolly was one of the most Christ-like public figures I can think of.

She loved people. She accepted people. She gave generously. She helped those who were hurting. She encouraged children to learn. She treated people with dignity. And rather than appointing herself judge of people whose lives or beliefs differed from her own, she reminded us that God loves us all.

There are people who loudly proclaim their Christianity while devoting an extraordinary amount of energy to deciding whom God condemns. Dolly seemed far more interested in making sure people knew they were loved.

Perhaps Dolly’s faith didn’t fit neatly inside a particular religious box. I don’t think it needed to. When I think about Christ’s command to love our neighbors, care for those in need, and refrain from judging others, I can think of few people who lived those principles more publicly or more consistently than Dolly Parton.

She may not have called herself particularly religious.

But she certainly showed us what love looks like.

There is also one place where I know I will always think of Dolly. Anyone who has traveled I-65 into or out of Mobile, Alabama, probably knows the twin spans I’m talking about. I’ve never heard anyone call them anything but the “Dolly Parton Bridge”—or, more often, simply “the Dolly Partons.”

I’ve crossed the Dolly Partons hundreds of times in my life. They are one of those landmarks that have always just been there, part of the familiar landscape of home. The nickname is affectionate, a little irreverent, and very Alabama—and somehow Dolly seemed exactly the kind of person who could appreciate having a pair of bridges nicknamed for her cleavage.

Millions of people have crossed those bridges over the years, and millions more will cross them in the years to come. I suspect I’m not the only one who will think of Dolly when those great arches come into view.

I always have.

But from now on, I think I’ll smile a little differently when I see the Dolly Partons rising ahead of me. They’ll remind me of the wigs and rhinestones, the music, the generosity, that wonderful laugh, and most of all, the remarkable woman underneath it all.

Maybe that’s why this loss hurts as much as it does.

The world can feel increasingly cruel, angry, judgmental, and divided. Dolly somehow remained Dolly through all of it. She could walk into a room looking like she’d been dipped in a vat of rhinestones and still somehow make everything feel a little warmer.

She was funny without being cruel. She was glamorous without taking herself too seriously. She was enormously successful without forgetting people who had less. She had deeply held beliefs without needing to force them onto everyone else. And she understood that loving people was far more important than judging them.

She was truly one of a kind.

I know ending a remembrance of Dolly Parton with “I Will Always Love You” is probably the biggest cliché imaginable. I’m sure those words have been repeated millions of times since the news broke.

But sometimes something becomes a cliché because nothing else says it quite as well.

I will always love you, Dolly.

And somehow, despite the fact that you didn’t know most of us personally, I genuinely believe you loved us too. You certainly spent a lifetime showing us that you did.

Rest in peace, Dolly.

The world is a little less bright without you in it, but because of you, there will always be a light in the clear blue morning.

3 Comments | posted in Inspiration

April 3, 2026

What Is Planted

By Joe

There’s a particular stillness to Good Friday. Not the kind that feels peaceful, exactly—but the kind that feels held. Suspended. Waiting.

It’s the kind of quiet that lingers in your chest a little longer than usual, the kind that doesn’t rush you forward. It simply asks you to remain where you are.

Growing up, Good Friday meant something a little different in our house.

My father worked constantly—long hours for the telephone company, weekends included. Days off were rare, and even when he had them, they were usually filled with something that needed doing. But every year, without fail, he made sure he had Good Friday free.

That was the day he planted the garden.

It wasn’t arbitrary. It wasn’t just a convenient day off. It was something deeper than that—a quiet, inherited knowing.

In the South, Good Friday has long been considered the right time to plant. It’s that moment when winter has finally loosened its grip, when the ground is soft enough to receive what’s placed in it, when spring has arrived even if it hasn’t fully revealed itself yet. The air still carries a chill, but something underneath has already begun to change.

So while others marked the day in church pews or hushed reflection, my father marked it with his hands in the soil. And there’s something quietly profound about that. On a day that remembers death—he chose to plant something meant to live.

While the world recalls the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, he was participating in something older, something just as sacred: the trust that what is placed in the ground will rise again.

Good Friday is not a day of answers.

It doesn’t rush ahead to resurrection. It doesn’t skip past the hard part to get to joy. It lingers instead in that difficult, in-between space where loss is still real, where grief has not yet lifted, where hope exists but feels fragile—too small, too uncertain to fully grasp.

And maybe that’s why planting belongs here. Because planting is, at its core, an act of quiet faith.

You take something small—something that looks like almost nothing—and you place it into darkness. You cover it, knowing you won’t see it again for some time. And yet you do it anyway, not as an act of ending, but because you believe in what comes next.

For many of us—especially those of us who have had to carve out space for ourselves within faith—that rhythm feels deeply familiar.

There have been parts of ourselves we buried just to survive. Dreams we set aside because they weren’t safe to live out yet. Love we kept hidden, waiting for a place where it could breathe and grow.

And yet, even in those moments, something in us kept planting. Kept believing, however quietly, that what was placed in the ground was not gone.

Good Friday reminds us that not everything buried is lost. Some things are planted. Maybe that’s what my father understood, even if he never would have said it that way.

That this day, of all days, was the right time to trust the unseen. That the season itself was already turning. That the earth knew something was changing, even if nothing visible had broken through the surface yet.

So wherever you find yourself this Good Friday—in grief, in waiting, in uncertainty—hold onto this:

What is planted in love is never wasted.

Even in the dark.

Even in the silence.

Especially there.

At the end of this post, I’ve included In Your Love by Tyler Childers. It’s a story of love, loss, and the work that continues afterward—set against fields and soil much like the ones my father turned over each Good Friday. There’s something in it that echoes this day: the quiet persistence of love in the face of death, and the way life keeps moving forward, even when something—or someone—is gone.

Leave a comment | posted in Inspiration, Miscellaneous

February 1, 2026

Pic of the Day

By Joe

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.”

—Psalm 28:7

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December 24, 2025

Glitzen the Glitter-Nosed Reindeer

By Joe

✨ Once upon a time, there was a reindeer who sparkled a little differently… 🌈✨

This is a fairy tale about joy that refuses to be dimmed, about glitter that outshines greed, and about choosing celebration when the world insists on silence. It’s a story for anyone who has ever been told to tone it down, stand in line, or make themselves smaller—and decided instead to shine.

Glitzen the Glitter-Nosed Reindeer is a tale of hope, courage, and unapologetic fabulousness. A reminder that being yourself is an act of bravery, that joy is powerful, and that light always finds a way back.

Pull up close.

The bells are ringing.

The glitter is flying.

And Christmas—real Christmas—is about to begin.

Glitzen the Glitter-Nosed Reindeer

Early one May at the North Pole, one of Santa’s reindeer gave birth to a little reindeer. When the newborn stood for the first time, he promptly tipped forward—straight into a pile of glitter meant for Santa’s toy shop. Laughter rippled through the stable as the little fellow wobbled back onto his shaky legs, his nose completely covered in sparkle.

His mother smiled and decided then and there to name him Glitzen—a portmanteau of her father Blitzen’s name and the glitter he had tumbled into. As Glitzen grew, everyone noticed that his nose never stopped shimmering. It seemed he could never quite rid himself of that glitter from his very first encounter with the world.

The young buck reindeer laughed at him and called him names. Glitzen knew he was different. Instead of playing reindeer games with the other bucks, he preferred to prance and dance with the does. He felt far more comfortable in their company, and they never mocked him or made him feel small. Glitzen always seemed to know exactly how to make the does—and everything around them—more fabulous.

He had a natural instinct for fashion and decorating, an eye for sparkle and balance. The bucks wanted nothing to do with him. His parents loved him dearly, though his father was often a little embarrassed by his son. His mother, however, understood. She loved Glitzen’s confidence and admired how he remained true to himself, even when the other reindeer bullied him.

One year, the world beyond the North Pole grew especially dark.

Across the Earth, a cruel and crooked dictator had risen to power. He ruled by fear, lies, and greed, demanding that the world worship him and his avarice above all else. He renamed cities, buildings, and institutions after himself, insisting his name be spoken everywhere, carved into stone and stamped in gold. Vast, glittering monstrosities were built in his honor—towering, hollow things—constructed by draining money, food, and comfort from ordinary people who could scarcely afford to lose any more.

Music was silenced. Color was discouraged. Celebration was mocked as weakness. People were told to fall in line, to stop dreaming, to stop being themselves. Hope, the dictator declared, was dangerous unless it served him.

And as the world grew heavier under his shadow, Santa’s Village felt it too.

The elves lost their spark. Toys no longer shimmered. Wrapped packages looked dull and lifeless, as though joy itself had been taxed away and locked behind gilded gates. Santa was deeply troubled, but he understood—everything at the North Pole drew its energy from the world beyond. When the world was oppressed, the North Pole dimmed.

Santa himself felt blue, though he tried not to show it. Hoping to lift spirits and restore even a little cheer, he decided to walk through the Village.

As he wandered, Santa noticed the reindeer weren’t playing at all—just standing about with lowered heads. The elves worked without enthusiasm, and it showed in every toy they made. Then, suddenly, Santa heard laughter. Singing. Bells.

He stopped in his tracks.

Following the sound, Santa entered the reindeer barn and was greeted by a truly fabulous sight. A group of young reindeer were dancing and singing, led by a buck with glitter on his nose and a string of lights woven through his antlers. Bells jingled as he moved, creating the most wondrous music, and everyone present was clearly delighted.

Laughing, Santa asked, “Everyone outside and in the toy shop is so gloomy—what happened in here to make things so festive?”

The reindeer laughed and pointed to Glitzen.

“Glitzen, my boy,” Santa said kindly, “how are you able to be so cheerful when the world feels so heavy?”

Glitzen looked up and replied,

“Santa, tyrants hate joy. They hate glitter. They hate people being themselves. They want us to worship their gold and their names instead of one another. But someone has to remind the world that they don’t get to take our light away. A little sparkle, some lights, and a few bells can help people remember who they are. I just wanted to remind everyone that we need a little Christmas right now.”

Then Glitzen began to sing:

Haul out the holly
Put up the tree before my spirit falls again
Fill up the stocking
I may be rushing things, but deck the halls again now.

For we need a little Christmas, right this very minute
Candles in the window, carols at the spinet
Yes, we need a little Christmas, right this very minute
Hasn’t snowed a single flurry, but Santa dear we’re in a hurry.

Santa joined in singing:

I need to climb down the chimney
Turn on the brightest string of lights I’ve ever seen
Slice up the fruit cake
It’s time we’ve hung some tinsel on the evergreen bough.

Before anyone quite realized what was happening, the cheer inside the barn spilled out across the North Pole. Soon, everyone joined in:

For I’ve grown a little leaner, grown a little colder
Grown a little sadder, grown a little older
And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder
Need a little Christmas now

For we need a little music, need a little laughter
Need a little singing ringing through the rafter
And we need a little snappy, happy ever after
We need a little Christmas now.

When the song finally faded, Santa smiled and said,

“Yes—we do need a little Christmas now. Glitzen, thank you for reminding us that joy is an act of courage. Now we need to share it with the world. Can you help me?”

“I’ll do anything I can, Santa,” Glitzen replied.

“First, help the elves and reindeer rediscover the Christmas spirit,” Santa said. “Then, on Christmas Eve, when I deliver presents, I need you to spread that spirit everywhere. Some people are frightened. Some are silenced. Some are told they must be less than who they are so others can feel powerful. But they need to know that joy, love, and glitter still belong to them. We can’t let cruelty win.”

Glitzen nodded eagerly. He and the does set to work at once, covering the Village in glitter and tinsel while singing Christmas songs. Soon, all the reindeer—including the bucks who had once teased him—joined in. The elves found their spark again. Toys gleamed, and the packages wrapped under Glitzen’s direction were among the most fabulous ever to leave the North Pole.

On Christmas Eve, Glitzen led Santa’s sleigh, flying proudly at the very front. As they soared across the world, glitter and light rained down upon cities and villages alike. And something remarkable happened.

As joy spread, fear loosened its grip. As people sang, the dictator’s lies rang hollow. The great golden monstrosities—symbols of greed and stolen comfort—began to crumble. Some were torn down by the people themselves. Others were melted, their gold redistributed to those who had been robbed of food, warmth, and dignity.

By morning, the dictator’s regime had collapsed. His name vanished from buildings and streets. His statues were gone. His power dissolved like frost in the sun.

People once again expressed themselves freely. Color returned. Music filled the air. Love was no longer hidden. And as a new year dawned, joy and happiness returned to the land.

The spirit of Christmas ruled the world again.

Santa and all the reindeer congratulated Glitzen—not only for being the most fabulous reindeer of all, but for reminding everyone that joy is powerful, truth is radiant, and glitter can change the world.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

May your holiday be fabulous—and if you wake up with a bit of glitter scattered about, perhaps Glitzen has visited your home this year.

Postscript

I know this is a silly story, and I first shared it several years ago. It was originally written during the gloom of Christmas 2020, when the pandemic swept across the world, creating isolation, fear, and deep sadness. That year, many of us felt cut off—from our families, our communities, and from joy itself.

But just as the pandemic eventually ended, we must believe that evil, too, will be crushed. Prosperity will be returned to the people. Cruelty will not have the final word.

This too shall pass.

In a time when LGBTQ+ identities are being crushed under the weight of fear and repression, when our glitter is mocked and our joy is treated as dangerous, we must remember Glitzen. Our fabulousness is not weakness—it is resistance. And when we let it shine, the world becomes brighter.

Christmas is proof that light returns.

Always.

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September 25, 2025

A Quiet Day (Hopefully 🙏🏻)

By Joe

I had planned an art history post for today, but honestly, I just haven’t been up to writing it. I’m working from home today, so maybe I’ll have some time to pull it together later. For now, though, I don’t have a lot to say.

Yesterday was rough—not only was I very busy at work, but my back gave me trouble all day. One of the issues with the bulging disk between my L4 and L5 is that it presses on the sciatic nerve on both sides, which is why I’ve had pain in my left leg for the past few weeks. Yesterday, however, it was my left leg and the lower left of my back that gave me the most grief. Add a migraine on top of that, and I was pretty miserable. It took me forever to fall asleep last night.

At least Isabella was kind enough to let me sleep until 5 a.m. Speaking of sleep, here’s one of my favorite photos of her napping—for the Isabella Pic of the Week.

Even when the pain flares up and the days feel long, I’m grateful for the little comforts: working from home, a quiet morning, and the steady presence of Isabella. Sometimes those small mercies make all the difference.

Leave a comment | posted in Health, Inspiration, Miscellaneous

February 27, 2025

Inspirational Quote

By Joe

“We deserve to experience love fully, equally, without shame and without compromise.” — Elliot Page

Love is one of the most fundamental human experiences, yet for too long, LGBTQ+ individuals have been told that their love is something to be hidden, altered, or diminished. Elliot Page’s words remind us that love should be free from fear and compromise. No one should have to justify their identity or fight for the right to love openly and authentically.

This quote speaks to the importance of equality—not just in legal rights, but in the way love is valued and respected in society. It’s a call to reject shame and embrace pride, to push back against narratives that suggest LGBTQ+ love is anything less than beautiful and valid. Whether in relationships, friendships, or self-love, everyone deserves to experience love without barriers. Today, let this quote serve as a reminder to support, uplift, and celebrate each other in our journeys toward full acceptance and joy.

Since it’s Thursday, here’s your Isabella Pic of the Week:

This is about as close as I get to her cuddling. She’s not a cuddly cat, and she also seems to not like her picture being taken.

Leave a comment | posted in Inspiration, Isabella, Quote

December 26, 2024

Pic of the Day

By Joe

1 Comment | posted in Inspiration

December 25, 2024

My Christmas Wishes to You

By Joe

As we gather this holiday season, I want to take a moment to wish each and every one of you a Merry Christmas filled with love, joy, and peace. Whether you are surrounded by family, chosen family, or enjoying some quiet moments of reflection, know that you are cherished and appreciated.

This Christmas, let us celebrate the beauty of diversity, the strength of authenticity, and the power of love in all its forms. To all my readers, may your holidays be filled with warmth, joy, and the comfort of knowing you are seen, valued, and loved.

This time of year reminds us of the importance of kindness, compassion, and the connections we share. For those who may find this season challenging, I hope you find comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone—this community stands with you, offering support and understanding. Let this Christmas be a time to honor your journey, cherish chosen family, and embrace the unique light you bring to the world. Here’s to hope, unity, and a season that sparkles with pride.

May your days be bright, your heart be light, and your holiday season filled with warmth and happiness. From my heart to yours, Merry Christmas!

—Joe, The Closet Professor

 

Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Joyeux Noël, Frohe Weihnachten, Buon Natale, Feliz Natal, С Рождеством, 圣诞快乐, メリークリスマス, 메리 크리스마스, عيد ميلاد مجيد,  मेरि क्रिसमस, Krismasi Njema,  শুভ বড়দিন, Mutlu Noeller, Καλά Χριστούγεννα, Vrolijk Kerstfeest,  Wesołych Świąt,  חג מולד שמח, Giáng Sinh Vui Vẻ, Maligayang Pasko, สุขสันต์วันคริสต์มาส, Καλά Χριστούγεννα, Felix Dies Nativitatis.

Since ancient language of Aramaic was most likely the language of Christ, I though I’d add this translation as well:

 ܐܫܬܐ ܠܟ ܫܢܬܐ ܛܒܬܐ ܘܐܝܕܐ ܕܡܘܠܕܐ ܕܡܫܝܚܐ!

(Eshta l-kh shnata ṭavta w-ida d-Mawlada d-Mshiḥa!)

It roughly translates to “I wish you a good year and a feast of the birth of the Messiah!”

10 Comments | posted in Inspiration

December 12, 2024

It’s Never Too Late

By Joe

George Eliot is quoted as saying, “It is never too late to be what you might have been,” and I feel like that describes my life in a way. All through high school and most of college, I aspired to be a lawyer; however, after working for a lawyer for a couple of years, I realized that I did not really want to go into law. I eventually decided that I’d rather be a teacher. I had always thought that maybe I could teach adjunct or teach in some way if I became a lawyer, but I finally came to the decision that I’d be happier as a teacher. That decision led me to go to graduate school because I wanted to teach history in college, and while I did teach college classes, that never became a full-time reality. I ended up teaching high school for five years, five stressful and painful years. When I left my job as a teacher, I realized that I wanted to work in museums. I was in my late thirties and decided to make another career change. My job search led me to finding a job in Vermont, somewhere I had never considered living. However, I have found that I love my job, and I love Vermont. I not only get to teach and work in a museum, but I also became a professor, which I never thought would be possible when I abandoned my PhD. I especially never thought I would ever get the chance to teach about my research, but I will be doing just that next semester.

We have the possibility of personal growth and transformation at any stage on our life. We just have to seize the opportunity when it presents itself. The sentiment encourages people to recognize that their past choices or circumstances do not have to define their future. It conveys a message of hope and empowerment, suggesting that individuals always have the opportunity to change, pursue their passions, or fulfill untapped potential. The above quote form George Eliot challenges the idea that there’s a fixed timeline for achieving one’s goals or becoming the person one aspires to be. They imply that the capacity for reinvention and progress is boundless, provided one has the will and determination to take action. This perspective aligns with her broader literary themes of human resilience, moral growth, and the importance of striving for a meaningful life despite difficulties or setbacks.

Alexander Graham Bell is often given credit for the quote, “When one door closes, fortune will usually open another.” The quote actually comes from Fernando de Rojas (c. 1465–1541), a Spanish author best known for writing La Celestina, one of the most significant works of Spanish literature and a precursor to the Spanish Golden Age. It doesn’t really matter who said it first, since it has been said many times, but it’s true. When I had to leave my PhD program because I could not longer afford to continue, I was devastated and thought I’d never be the professor I had aspired to be. When I lost my job teaching high school (I was replaced by a coach), I was devastated and thought my teaching career was over. When I found out my original position at my museum was ending, I didn’t know what I was going to do. However, it eventually led to my current position and my appointment as a professor at my university.

We never know where our lives will lead us or what path our lives will take. Sometimes, it is a bumpy, uneven path, sometimes we may veer off the path and get lost in the woods, but if we allow ourselves to get back on the path, we will eventually reach our destination. When you are feeling lost, know that the path is still there, you just have to find it again.

Since it is Thursday, here is your Isabella pic of the week:

2 Comments | posted in Inspiration, Isabella, Quote

September 20, 2023

A Rainbow In Someone’s Cloud 

By Joe

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them. Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud. Do not complain. Make every effort to change things you do not like. If you cannot make a change, change the way you have been thinking. You might find a new solution.” 

— Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou said, “I’ve had so many rainbows in my clouds. I had a lot of clouds, but I had so many rainbows.” Within every cloud, there is a silver lining. From every patch of rain, somewhere there is a rainbow to be found. Have you ever had days, weeks, or months in your life when it seems as though the clouds won’t pass and the rain just won’t stop falling? It’s safe to say that at one point or another most of us have experienced this kind of difficult season. Perhaps you lost a lover or friend, or you experienced the pain of death, or maybe life just threw one too many curveballs at once, and you just felt sad for a while. Sometimes that sadness can be overwhelming and take over for long periods of time or may never go away. No matter how it happens, we can all appreciate that life’s moments are not always filled with sunshine.

With this knowledge in mind, there is a simple and powerful perspective that we can all choose to embrace; that each person you come across is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Whether it’s internally or externally, every person you meet is dealing with something that is challenging for them. Angelou wrote, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

While we certainly can’t save people from their pain, we all have the power to influence one another in positive ways.  We each have the power to give to one another in a way that is meaningful and impactful. To be the rainbow in someone’s cloud means to cultivate loving kindness as a daily practice in your life. It means looking into your heart, practicing empathy, and using that empathy to connect to the people around you. We all have the opportunity to be someone’s rainbow. Probably the greatest part of adopting this practice is that our efforts don’t need to be overwhelming. Something as simple as a smile can greatly help someone who is going through a difficult time. 

Maya Angelou said she always carried these “rainbows” with her to her speaking and teaching engagements, whether in a large venue or an intimate classroom. “I bring everyone who has ever been kind to me with me,” she said. “Black, white, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American, gay, straight, everybody. I said, ‘Come on with me. I’m going on the stage. Come with me. I need you now.'” Whether her “rainbows” were living or had long since passed, Dr. Angelou said she always felt and drew strength from their support. “I don’t ever feel I have no help,” she said. “I had rainbows in my clouds.”

She also encouraged people to apply the “rainbow in the clouds” philosophy to their own lives. “The thing to do, it seems to me, is to prepare yourself so you can be a rainbow in somebody else’s cloud. Somebody who may not look like you. May not call God the same name you call God — if they call God at all. I may not dance your dances or speak your language. But be a blessing to somebody. That’s what I think.”

To choose to live from a place of loving-kindness is one of the greatest gifts you can give to the world and to yourself. Not only will you impact others in a positive way but you also give yourself a purpose outside of your own needs, which brings fulfillment and ultimately happiness for you too. When we are kind to others, we learn that we matter, that we are powerful, and that what we do on a daily basis really does have an impact on the world around us.

Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud today and practice more kindness in your life.

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