Author Archives: SLHinkel

Wow, just when I thought they couldn’t be further off the mark, the Pantone Color Institute manages to exceed expectations with their Color of the Year selection for 2026..

I was prompted to respond to the choice of Peach Fuzz two years ago and I sat out the debate about last year’s choice of Mocha Mousse. The internet responded as if it were a Rorschach test. Hair was on fire debating whether it was celebrating the incredible accomplishment of Kamala Harris as a woman of color in the presidential race –or whether the image supplied by Pantone looked more like a turd in a coupe glass (an apt comparison to the Trump candidacy).

This year it gets even more dicey with the choice of Cloud Dancer, which is (you guessed it) white. To that I just want to say, come ON. Their description says it “acts as a whisper of calm and peace in a noisy world,” adding it “invites true relaxation and focus, allowing the mind to wander and creativity to breathe.” Critics are already responding by calling it “Pantonedeaf” –evoking images of white supremacy and sentiments of white nationalism while DEI and the promotion of basic human rights is being systematically derailed and defunded. I couldn’t agree more.

I suppose if you wanted to get heady about it, perhaps the Lockean concept of “tabula rasa” could be injected here to argue in favor of the selection. It describes a belief that we are all born a ‘blank slate,’ minus any innate or possibly corrupt knowledge. (I doubt there was a significant representation of Enlightenment scholars participating in this process however.) Anyway, it seems to fall apart when you further consider Locke’s assertion of natural rights and promotion of classic liberalism. Locke believed that knowledge is acquired through experience and reflection. Put simply, a whiteboard may represent possibility of creativity in our imagination, but creativity can only be observed in the process of adding something to it. Does creativity objectively exist without the ability to perceive it? Ok, I digress…

Now, all of us at one time or another have said something or done something insensitive or just plain stupid when it comes to matters of cultural competency. I have a few zingers myself that I am completely embarrassed to mention — so I’m not quick to cast judgment on individuals who are well-meaning and commit an occasional faux-pas. But the Pantone Institute is a large organization with many people participating in the selection process. Because I can’t imagine NO ONE thought about this selection being provocative for all of the wrong reasons, I have to imagine the prospect of more clicks and more conversation was more compelling than prompting an actual sensation of unity or creativity. After all, the amount of press and attention given to this selection process seems to be in direct proportion to the controversy it generates.

A good chunk of our collective creativity is reflected in our digital environment where, unfortunately, clickbait rules and haters drool. If the Pantone Color Institute can’t engage in a process of selecting a color that transcends and transforms an all too often entropic discourse online, maybe they need to stop fishing and cut bait. Or, maybe come up with a color palette instead. I don’t know, just quit doing what you’re doing. Maybe stare at that Cloud White whiteboard for awhile and come up with something more creative. Seriously.

Oh! demolition demolition
Demolition demolition

Tied to the tracks and the train’s fast coming
Strapped to the wing with the engine running
You say that this wasn’t in your plan
And don’t mess around with the demolition man

Tied to a chair and the bomb is ticking
This situation was not of your picking
You say that this wasn’t in your plan
And don’t mess around with the demolition man

I’m a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom
I kill conversation as I walk into the room
I’m a three line whip, I’m the sort of thing they ban
I’m a walking disaster, I’m a demolition man
Demolition, demolition
Demolition, demolition

You come to me like a moth to the flame
It’s love you need but I don’t play that game
‘Cause you could be my greatest fan

But I’m nobody’s friend, I’m a demolition man

I’m a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom
I kill conversation as I walk into the room
I’m a three line whip, I’m the sort of thing they ban
I’m a walking disaster, I’m a demolition man
Demolition, demolition
Demolition, demolition

Tied to the tracks and the train’s fast coming
Strapped to the wing with the engine running
You say that this wasn’t in your plan
And don’t mess around with the demolition man

Tied to a chair, and the bomb is ticking
This situation was not of your picking
You say that this wasn’t in your plan
And don’t mess around with the demolition man

-Lyrics to “Demolition Man,” written by Sting and first recorded by Grace Jones

How on earth did we get here? A federal government that is shut down and The White House receiving a wrecking ball — partially destroying a symbol of a presidency bound by The U.S. Constitution, the legal separation of powers and 250 years of democracy. This is taking place at the same time whole swaths of people are fearing for their lives, experiencing military power that is being directed and exercised without regard for individual rights at home or national sovereignty abroad. Families are being forced to go hungry, being denied potentially life-saving health care; left to fend for themselves and being forced to make impossible choices.

And yet those in a position to do so continue to act terrified to confront these destructive forces, instead choosing to grind everything to a halt while pointing fingers at one another. They scratch their heads wondering why people may lose faith in democracy or decline to exercise their right to vote if they think it will maintain any version of the status quo. An obvious and likely explanation would be that we’re moving further away from the democracy most of us learned about and believed in. Perhaps in our frustration, we’re losing the perspective that our actions still represent a choice whether to be a part of the problem or part of the solution.

“Democracy is not a noun–-democracy is a verb…If you think democracy is something outside of you, it’s already lost. – Historian Timothy Snyder

For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to destruction. –Psalm 1:6

You are to know the bitter taste of others’ bread, how salt it is, and know how hard a path it is for one who goes descending and ascending others’ stairs. – Dante Alighieri

Written in reference to a life of exile, the above quote takes on another meaning for me when I think about the politics of grievance and the concurrent emergence of an American oligarchy. I found this quote and saved it several weeks ago, prior to the horrific most recent event where corporate executives were the apparent target of a mass shooting. When coupled with the targeted murder of a corporate healthcare CEO not long ago, there seems to be a need to explore the relationship between the two.

Slang usage of the word “salty” when referring to someone typically means they’re bitter, angry or aggrieved in some manner. It can also mean that someone is angry specifically because they have been proven wrong about something.

Politicians on both sides have sought to blame the opposing side for people feeling like they were duped when they placed their faith in those who occupy positions of political power. But there’s a unique condition on one side, where it’s apparent that political power is amassed in direct proportion to the amount of economic advantage given to corporations and corporate elites. This dynamic seems to create a disturbing paradox, where those most aggrieved by government are choosing the side that willingly takes the capacity for change away from government and into the hands of those with no vested interest in the general welfare of the people. As the power and political influence of corporations expands and priorities shift further away from the people, the saltiness of having ridden that metaphorical escalator to the bottom is more apparent than ever.

Corporations are not inherently wrong or evil, but giving them unfettered access to our politicians and our system of government while expecting things to improve socially is inherently wrong-headed. That’s not what corporations exist to do. They exist to make money, and find more ways to make more money for their shareholders while not breaking the law. Often they provide a valuable product or service; but that cannot substitute for the altruistic foundations of public service, where those in power are charged with the care of our populace without motive to profit from it. Corporations and their executives are not to blame for their inherent opportunism; it’s the foundation of capitalism as we know it. We’re the ones who need to choose better leaders; those who know where to separate economic opportunism from public service.

I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more. – C.S. Lewis

It can be difficult to acknowledge personal pain in a world that elevates people for being competitive, ambitious, impervious and tough-minded. It can be especially difficult when that pain is being inflicted inter-generationally. In a world that is becoming more technically intertwined, we’re simultaneously experiencing greater isolation and we’re relying on family more than ever for those rare, authentic relationships we need to feel truly seen and heard. In situations where family is a source of hurt over several generations, authenticity requires acknowledging the reality of these hurts. Staying healthy within that reality means breaking the inevitable cycles that manifest themselves in a world of hurt.

I take this to mean that most all of us have significant life-work to do. Even in the most idyllic of families, there are generational hurts inflicted by all of the ‘isms’ and accompanying violence that dominates the human experience. The ‘American Experience,’ shaped by the rawest forms of capitalism, competition and industrialization, has resulted in both global dominance and American exceptionalism; the belief that America is unique, distinct and morally superior. Not unlike a dysfunctional family, impersonal and objective measures of success are elevated to the point of disappearing the subjective and pluralistic experience of exploitation, subjugation and systemic abuse upon which they rest.

We’re seeing and experiencing a world of hurt right now. Made more visible and palpable to people as a result of objective measures of success (stock market, global trade, 401k balances) simultaneously tanking, more people are starting to question the wisdom of defending the dysfunctional family making decisions on our behalf. The bravado is truly baffling. The level of self-deception, stifling. In truth they are but one manifestation of intergenerational pain. That’s what makes them seem “authentic” and “relatable” to a lot of people while doing things that are objectively harmful.

Past is prologue. Hurt people hurt people.

It’s hard not to feel a healthy dose of shame for how our country is operating while also feeling proud of our democracy and ideals. How can we lean into those feelings of shame enough to reprogram ourselves away from a spiral of shame? How does collective and intergenerational shame manifest personally? What systems currently perpetuating shame need to be broken and/or repaired? How can we celebrate what makes us proud while being mindful of these many sources of intergenerational pain?

I had a different something in my mind to write about, but I just read about the passing of famed director David Lynch. I was originally going to post a belated tribute to Jimmy Carter following his passing. Now I realize perhaps this post can be inspired by the life of both men. I am actually finding some very deep personal inspiration in doing a simple exploration of their lives.

Jimmy Carter was the first President of my living memory, so his passing is something I feel just a bit differently on a personal level. I can’t help but reflect on his life as well as my own because I have childhood memories involving him. It was the 1970s and my family felt the effects of a poor economy. So I actually remember talking about Jimmy Carter and doing silly impersonations of him on a cassette recorder while playing with my friends.

My father always had respect for Jimmy Carter. Those were the days when blue collar workers and decedents of farmers still felt loyal to the Democratic Party. But I also remember the shifting political sands and economic uncertainty that led my mother to vote for Ronald Reagan in 1980. I wasn’t even 10 years old, but those memories are sealed in my mind. It was the beginning of the split that came to epitomize Wisconsin politics to this day.

I wasn’t a huge David Lynch fan as many are, but his body of work makes you wonder how his brain works, to say the least. The tribute to him published on CNN.com describes much of his film and television work as featuring “a dreamlike plot involving sex and violence” in a “suburban setting that belies the seedy underworld beneath…” I can see where his work was particularly attractive as subversive in the 1980s before I was old enough to see it. It was a cultural ipecac for whitewashed suburban children of the Reagan era, at least those who were old enough to view it in real time.

Something unexpected brings these two men together. Much has been written/said about Jimmy Carter’s many lives in recent days. His was a long, spectacular life of purpose and accomplishment. David Lynch’s life shared a similar arc. His first and most lasting love was painting. In addition to his prolific film and television career, he was a musician and made several recordings. He was a man of many exceptional talents.

Both men also shared a very disciplined spiritual life. Carter’s practice of his Christian faith is again well-noted. Lynch practiced transcendental meditation twice a day. About this, Lynch was quoted as saying “It has given me effortless access to unlimited reserves of creativity…” Carter is quoted as saying “Like music and art, love of nature is a common language that can transcend political or social boundaries.” Both men sought a path to higher consciousness; a means to more deeply understand and connect to the human experience absent a sense of self or ego in the process. Lynch left his ego through meditation, Carter through following the life of Christ. Both attributed the ability to achieve a sense of selflessness to the success of their life-work.

Both men also shared an exceptional sense of joy in this life-work. The expressions of their joy is their gift to all of us and our future.

“And quite often when you try to help others – which should be an important part of life – you find that that’s the most gratifying and enjoyable and adventurous thing you can do. It’s a way to make your own self happy and joyful and peaceful. The more you try to reach out and get to know and to help other people, the better and more enjoyable life you will have yourself. That’s the main thing that I would like to say.” said Carter.(https://formagazine.org/blogs/for-now/a-joyful-life)

“Speaking with Vulture in 2018, the director said that despite their sometimes-morbid subject matter, the source of his films was ultimately joy. ‘The thing is, if you get an idea that you love and you want to realize it, then the trip of realizing it should be joyful and the result should be joyful,’ he said. ‘Happiness is not a new car; it’s the doing of the work. If you like the doing, the result will be a joy.’ (https://www.cnn.com/2025/01/16/entertainment/david-lynch-death/index.html)

Well said, gentlemen. Thank you. Rest in Peace.

Whenever I am observing things that seem paradoxical in the ways people think, I can usually find a concept or an idea in the work of Carl Jung that is helpful. I don’t claim to be a scholar of Jung. I might not even have a firm grasp of what I’m writing about. However I keep bumping into him at meaningful moments and maybe you might find this interesting too.

One of those interesting concepts is that of a Jungian archetype, that I will describe as manifestations of the sum total of our human experiences. They are concepts and forces more than actual “things” but they play a powerful role in how we understand ourselves and relate to our environments. They’re categorized as Persona, the Anima or Animus, The Self, and the Shadow. There are lots of archetypes within those categories, like “trickster,” “demon”, “mother,” or “god.”

The work of writer Joseph Campbell was heavily influenced by Carl Jung, writing most notably about the power of mythology and the hero’s journey in literature. You can draw though-lines to the work of Jung and Campbell when reading or watching some of your favorite stories, the one’s that captivate our furthest imagination and yet seem so relatable at the same time.

One particular archetype and manifestation of Jung’s work can be found in the story of Peter Pan, the name (and main character) of a story about a young boy who never grows up. Jung’s name for this type of character was the archetype Puer Aeturnus (also a feminine Puella Aeturna). The hero of the story, Peter Pan, is beloved for his imagination, his carefree nature and his youthful optimism.

Few children grew up without some adoration of Peter Pan. Yet in our contemporary culture we also see the potential downside to someone refusing to grow up, such as an unwillingness to accept responsibility or lack of ability to deal with adult-scale challenges in an effective way. There’s even a “Peter Pan Syndrome” used to describe individuals whose life struggles are sourced from a stubborn refusal to grow up.

According to Jung, we all possess an inner puer aeternus or puella aeterna. The influence of these archetypes can lurk in the shadow of our subconscious. We may not be aware of the ways in which this archetype operates when we construct the world to make sense to us. Perhaps in the way we respond to conflict or perhaps in our ability to relate to young people we can better observe our interactions with this archetype. It’s not necessarily a good or bad thing; according to Jung it just is.

We also possess an inner nemesis to this archetype, called the “Senex,” or the old man. I could probably go on for a bit about the significance of a lack of feminine equivalent here, but I’ll stay on topic for the sake of brevity. In the Peter Pan story, the senex is vilified as Captain Hook. Captain Hook represents aging as a corrupt and evil force in the world. Interestingly, the word senex is the Latin source of the term Senator among other things. And perhaps among actual Senators we can see the full range of manifestations for the senex archetype. From being a source of wisdom and legitimate authority, to possessing an ambition to control others; we can see how the senex can operate within our subconscious in different ways.

So when (former Senator) Joe Biden expressed that we were in a ‘battle for the soul of our nation,’ I think he was on to something. I think Jung provides an explanation for what is happening and why so many people can be so polarized; further categorizing one side as “good” and the other side “evil.”

The satisfactory explanation for such deep polarization among many pundits is that people aren’t getting their information from the same place. The news silos and social media are conditioning people to perceive one another the way they do. While I do think that contributes, I think the deeper issue involves the puer/puella and the senex in all of us. Our world is one that requires serious adulting, and that is growing increasingly unpleasant. The most advantageous skills (mastering technology) for successful adulting are possessed principally by young people. As a result, the way we perceive conflict, the way we view problems, the way we attempt to solve them–all of that discourse is being driven by relatively young people.

The most effective tools for human survival are amassed among those least able/willing to use them to fix problems. It doesn’t make anyone good or bad, it just is.

Ok, Boomer. (ps. I happen to be Gen X but you probably understand why I wrote that).

So who ends up in the race for President? The two oldest men to run for office. Why? Because our entire collective unconscious is dominated by the puer and puella. And the senex is what we’re all seeking to balance it all out. But because the puer/puella are producing the show and the senex doesn’t have a fan base, our candidate choices were manifested in two very different takes on the same archetype. In one you might see necessary command and control and in the other you might see silly naivete. In one you might see a stubborn refusal to grow up and deal with real problems and in one you might see an old man rendered incompetent by his ineptitude. In any case, it seems people were initially seeking candidates they thought might possess what’s needed to meet the challenge of very adult-scale problems. And that’s not the puer/puella, as much as we might like them.

The presidential race has changed. Many were surprised and wondered what sparked so much enthusiasm for the new democratic ticket. Simple, we have what’s relatable and popular about the puer/puella combined with something approaching the wisdom of the senex. It’s the formula that worked for the Obama – Biden ticket and also the Biden – Harris ticket. And it even worked for Trump – Pence too, except with Trump cast as Peter Pan and Pence as the senex.

I think we’re all painfully aware this isn’t Never Never Land. Paradoxically, Trump is the likely the first person to tell you that. He’s promising to “restore” the American version of Never Never Land, even though it never existed. There’s a reason it’s called “Never Never.” Maybe some daydreams need to stay just that. We’ve got real work to do.

When I named my business “Cause to Celebrate,” it was for many reasons, among them being the decision to start my business following the passing of my mother. I was inspired by our relationship and the many turns it took over many years, that found its way to a deep friendship and understanding. Being so much like my mother in many ways, my relationship with her often reflected my relationship with myself. The more grace I could offer myself in the course of life’s discovery, the more appreciation I had for her in my life. The more I appreciated about her, the more I could begin to appreciate about myself. In celebrating her life, I pushed myself to do things I know that she too would have loved the opportunity to do in her life. It’s like our friendship gave me the license and the freedom to be my true self in every way, and while It has been a difficult path, it’s a truly joyful experience ever since I started this business. There’s no better why to celebrate a life – hers and mine.

My mother was a woman of true conviction. She often refused to stay silent about things that bothered her. My mother wasn’t right about everything, and she didn’t always make things better when she spoke her mind. I argued with her a lot (a LOT) but I never questioned her intent. She believed in the healing power of truth and everything she spoke about came from a place of seeking what was right and just in this world. My mother also fearlessly protected her children, even when she disapproved of something. She would have thrown herself in front of a bus for any one of us at any time no matter what. That’s a very powerful force to have in your life, one that needs to be understood for what it gives you and also what it can take away from you if you’re not careful. When you have a relationship like that in your life, you run the risk of being careless with other relationships that don’t match up to that. You run the risk of isolation from other relationships that seem to pale in comparison, you run the risk of being controlled by the whims or the memory of your most loving parent. It can also fuel conflict when those who love you feel as though they have to compete with the power of that unconditional love.

So I think of my mother today as I mourn the loss of my niece to suicide. The first of many grandchildren, my mother loved her and adored her as we all did. My parents cared for her a great deal at our home while I was growing up. We were separated by only eight years, so in some ways she was like a younger sibling (who was also the first grandchild, so you can imagine the initial anxiety and jealousy that came with that at times). She was every bit like my mother in so many ways; lovely, strong-willed, smart, talented and very passionate. Like her grandmother before her, it was clear from any early age that she would go down swinging in any cage match to prove herself right (even if she wasn’t).

I can’t pretend to know what it was that eventually brought my niece down. I won’t share identifiable information about her, mostly because I didn’t know much about this spunky little girl in her adult life. It’s too long of a story for this post to share my perspective on how this came to be, but I can see how observable dynamics in her life (two separated families with their own issues, coupled with mental health struggles) didn’t help. And sadly, the absence of my deceased mother from her obituary speaks volumes about those living dynamics among her surviving relatives.

So perhaps in seeing my mother in myself and my niece, the right-fighter in me wants to speak truth to power. In this case, it’s the power of truth itself, the power to name and define others, the power to marginalize and erase, the power to heal and the power to forgive – and the ultimate power of love, in the presence of which we still must choose either conflict or reconciliation. In doing so, the speaking becomes more like a prayer, a prayer to accept truth and in doing so, seek to understand ourselves and others in our complicated glory. A prayer for life itself.

“…not all people are aware of the difference between a tea kettle and a teapot… Sure, it’s easy enough to confuse them. They both look sort of similar with a spout and a lid. They both have names which include the word tea. And they both contain hot water at some point in the tea-making process. Confusing the two, however, can have dire consequences for yourself, your tea, and especially your teapot. 

There is much to reflect upon these days in our politics. Our nation seems deeply polarized and from the perspective of our politicians, a bright line exists between our political parties and therefore our choices on the ballot. And yet, when it comes to the things we see and tend to dislike about politics and politicians generally, we’re having a lot of conversations as though our choices remain largely indistinguishable from one another.

I simply don’t agree with that assessment. I don’t think it’s difficult to see the differences in tone and method, regardless of how you feel about them. So why aren’t those profound differences fueling our discourse? I did a bit of searching for a term that seems to apply here: anchoring bias. This cognitive bias occurs when we find something to refer our decisions and/or reasoning back to—the anchor. The anchor is usually the first piece of information we receive, as it forms our understanding of the topic. Depending on what that is, this can become challenging if the initial anchor isn’t the best or most relevant option, as it can throw user research off course.

So let’s say we’ve become attached to a certain set of messages aligning with one political party or politician at an early age. Perhaps through our family of origin, our church or other affinity groups. Those can serve as an important and frequently reinforced anchor in our lives. When that happens to us as children, we often don’t reflect on the substance underlying those anchors. We simply know of their existence and enjoy a sense of connection within a community that affirms the existence of those anchors and celebrates them. This can give rise to yet another bias: social desirability bias. Social desirability bias is heavily influenced by societal and cultural norms and expectations. We resist information and situations that may challenge the relevance or importance of our anchors.

It’s easy to see how a potent formative experience can bias our future assessments of many things including (and most relevant to this post) the political landscape. We refuse to take in new information that suggests our anchor may no longer be the best option, and one powerful motivation is the desire to preserve a socially desirable alignment with the source of our anchor.

There was a time in this country where the anchor for most people would have been the ideals of democracy. I can say that with some degree of confidence when I think about my parents, whose formative experiences took place during and immediately following World War II. That anchor is unwavering for many and continues to be to this day. Generations became familiar with the mechanics of democracy from an early age. My parent’s generation and even my generation, spent a great deal of time learning about how democracy works. Civics instruction was required and when I was a kid, I couldn’t turn on the television without Schoolhouse Rock belting out how a bill becomes a law.

What we didn’t learn enough about was the important connection and, at times, significant gap that exists between the values, mechanics and outcomes of our democracy. Most of us weren’t exposed to information about how that gap explains where we fall short of our ideals. We hear both political parties today talking about the other being a threat to our democracy. It’s very potent emotional language for most people readily observing our shortcomings, but the substance of those arguments needs to be explored more deeply. In the deep sea of our politics, media and our rhetoric there is great commotion and emotion. We can start to feel out of control. Dragging anchor is defined as the loss of the holding power of the anchor system. If this loss is sudden, it may require an immediate reaction to retain control over the ship. Once the anchor starts dragging, the change in the ship’s position may occur quite rapidly, especially in adverse weather and current.

If the ideals of democracy are seen to be the anchor we’re dragging (because we fall short of them constantly), then immediate action would seem necessary. But what is the necessary immediate action? Abandon all of the values, twist all of the methods and dismiss the positive outcomes we have achieved? What if the anchor is actually our formative experiences and social relationships? Those are powerful and important but they can sometimes limit our imagination and create a sense of urgency when their significance is threatened, to be sure. What if the ship in peril is carrying the substance (values, methods and outcomes) of democracy itself? Because that does seem to be the case. If we can shed our biases, does it become more clear whose alignment and goals for desirability rest among those who wish it to sink?

I recently read an article that asked what were some of the not-so-obvious signs that someone is super rich. I have to admit this peaked my curiosity. I am not super rich. It made me wonder how I might appear differently to the world if I was? I was most interested in what they said that was relevant to design and it made me ponder the significance of these choices:

“Minimalist homes. I don’t know why, but many rich people like the simple aesthetic, which honestly doesn’t feel homey. They’d rather live with very few things.”

“Once you know you have money to replace things, it’s much easier to let go of them. Minimalist decor aesthetics are very rooted in this idea.”

“Minimalism is for people who didn’t grow up saving all the plastic food tubs to use as Tupperware.”

If I were to be cornered into a design aesthetic, I will have to say I am definitely NOT a minimalist. But I do find great pleasure in the simplicity of the aesthetic when I look at it. I could absolutely create a minimalist design with great zeal. I just can’t seem to let go of my own stuff, or some treasures from others I have collected over the years. I am proud to have a home that reflects my personal history, and a good amount of my family history. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel surrounded by loved ones even when I am alone. Their memory is something that guides me through the various stages of my own life.

My relations did save butter tubs to store leftovers, and the few purchases they made that retained any value were passed down generations. The privilege of purchasing objects for pleasure is fairly recent in my family history, for better and for worse. At best, it made us appreciate things that gave us pleasure and treasure the opportunity to acquire them. At worst, the pleasure of acquiring things took on outsized importance, especially during periods of sadness. I don’t struggle with the emotions that drive excessive acquisition, but being surrounded by the artifacts of that family history keeps me aware of it. It makes me reflect a lot on the importance of sustainability, avoiding excess, and also the importance of buying things that last and can be used by future generations. I don’t feel compelled to apologize for the fact that acquiring beautiful things brings me great joy – particularly when I consider that the opportunity is a product of many generations of struggle. In order to truly feel good about that however, I am trying to balance it with other values that keep my actions from being harmful to myself or others.

It seems to me that we could all be in a process of striking a similar delicate balance. of embracing and celebrating a complicated history that can inform and affirm us in many ways but should be evaluated for the extent it can or should define our future. We can do this individually, but we ought to be doing this collectively as well. Are we best served by a minimalist, uncomplicated approach that makes things appear more manageable in our complicated world or do we want a maximalist reminder of everything gorgeous and awful that surrounds us? Do we have to choose and/or can we accept that each can mean different things to different people based on their own history and circumstances? Perhaps we focus less on how people make sense of their current surroundings, and more on the future choices that will allow us to co-exist.

This year, Pantone has selected “Peach Fuzz” as it’s color of the year. According to their website, “[P]each Fuzz communicates a message of caring and sharing, community and collaboration.” If you are curious about Pantone and it’s significance, feel free to check out https://www.pantone.com/. For now, I don’t have anything else to say about Pantone except I think they appear woefully out of touch this year.

(And I pause to reflect. I suppose I write this post because I too could give that impression. I mean, my business is called “Cause to Celebrate” and my web domain celebrates life. It’s lovely and inspiring to me, yet could seem out of touch. I guess that’s why I write this blog, to provide some balance and context.)

So let me provide some context for what bothers me about Pantone’s choice. Pantone is an AMERICAN company. They select a color of the year every year, with the intent of essentially capturing the cultural zeitgeist with a single color. Then, of course we start seeing this color everywhere. They can pick ANY color in any given year. So wait a minute… we’re on the cusp of losing our democracy and Pantone thinks we’re all about caring and sharing this year? Now, I personally endorse the idea of caring and sharing. And yes, it’s exceptionally important for us to connect interpersonally in order to manage the stress of our turbulent times. But this year’s color shouldn’t be about caring and sharing because that is NOT the cultural zeitgeist. Maybe this year’s color should be the color of scorched earth or a massive tire fire or some sort of industrial accident – cause that is what’s coming FOR ALL OF US if we don’t figure some stuff out in this election cycle.

Maybe Pantone is hoping to offer a color that optimistically represents an antidote to our toxic times, which I genuinely believe is caring and sharing on a fundamental level. But THIS critical election year, that’s not going to cure us – not even close. We have to VOTE for a democracy to stay alive. We have to pay attention. We have to think beyond the moment and consider a possible future where we can’t reasonably dispute issues and compromise on solutions. That absence of conflict may sound nice in the short term but the consequence is going to be the loss of freedom to choose our own position. Again, may sound appealing if you think the prevailing attitude is going to match yours because you don’t have to defend your position anymore. I guarantee it won’t stay that way for long, if it ever really was going to be that way.

Without democracy we likely have to accept what authoritarians tell us as true and accept their ‘solutions’ if there are any - or risk harm to ourselves and our loved ones. That’s the cost we’ll all pay eventually when democracy dies, and anyone who thinks they’ll be exempt is woefully out of touch. Authoritarians are not relatable people. They don’t care about anyone else because that’s the quality that draws people to authoritarianism; not having to care or really share at all.

So yes, please start caring and sharing if you haven’t started yet, but it’s not at all peachy out here.