happy mother’s day to our ‘architects of fate’ … these invaluable builders

mothers day puppy


“God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.”

Rudyard Kipling


“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.”

Maya Angelou



It’s almost a little strange in that when I look back at almost 3000 posts I have written I have written only twice for mother’s day. It’s strange because I have the utmost respect for mothers <and women in general>.

All I can offer on Mother’s Day are some thoughts and perspective.

I am not a father. I have managed individuals, groups, departments, companies as well as <tried> to coordinate the activity of multiple companies at the same time within a specific vision.

Even on my most difficult day I hesitate to suggest I had a tougher job than a mother. Shit. I don’t hesitate, I know I didn’t have a tougher job.

While I envision the rewards of being a mother probably offers heights I can only imagine … the difficulties & challenges are seemingly relentless and unforgiving. In fact, in comparison, business is extremely forgiving. Mistakes are within moments and if you don’t dwell on them they can always <always> be bridged into someplace better <please note that I do believe the only time in business you truly get screwed is if you stop when a mistake happens … if you ‘keep going once in hell’ you will get out>.

Motherhood is strewn with ‘life mines’ and responsibilities. Where moments are not just moments … but rather epic within their seeming minutiae. Some mistakes offer no bridges to someplace better. I say this because so often men, or maybe people with ‘stress related careers,’ flippantly make comparisons to their lives and ‘mothers.’

It is a silly comparison.

We in business are business managers. We are in the business management business <of which we can certainly impact lives but inevitably we manage businesses>.

Mothers are Life managers. Mothers are in the Life management business.


The decisions they make impact lives. In fact. They are builders. They build lives. Suffice it to say, and I will say this next thought as a quasi-workaholic who typically defines life thru my work, Life is more important than any business. As a corollary, building a Life is exponentially of more value than building a business.


When I think of mothers I always think about something I heard one of my favorite mothers <wife of one of my best friends> say to her daughter during an argument/discussion <whatever it is called that a mother and a tween have between each other> as I sat in their kitchen eavesdropping:


 “… but I am sure you & dad did it.”


“… you will have to ask your dad about what he did … but let me tell you what I believe … I made my mistakes … and you will make your own … but know this … I want you to be better than I was and, ultimately, than I am.”

Personally, I believe all children should hear that they won’t simply be as good as someone, even their own parents, but something better. Or at least that is the goal, or wish, for them. Oh. And ‘better’ can be anything or any aspect.

fathers mothers noMothers are builders.

They build by telling you to drink more water and eat vegetables.

They build by listening even when they are so tired they don’t want to listen.

They build by saying ‘no’ <yes … even a negative can be a positive>.

They build by saying ‘yes’ <it is a little push to go and do>.

They build by showing hope <if they can do it then it is possible>

They build something better than anything that already exists.

They are architects of fate.

In the end.

They are builders. Architects of fate as one of my favorite poems written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow suggests.

Mothers … “… the structures that we raise in Time with materials filled … our to-days and yesterdays are the blocks with which we build … to truly shape and fashion these <people that we build> …”

We are the structures they raise.

Happy mother’s day to our ‘architects of fate’ … these invaluable builders of ours.

The Builders 

All are architects of Fate,walking home mother son

Working in these walls of Time;

Some with massive deeds and great,

Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;

Each thing in its place is best;

And what seems but idle show

Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise,

Time is with materials filled;

Our to-days and yesterdays

Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;

Leave no yawning gaps between;

Think not, because no man sees,

Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of Art,

Builders wrought with greatest care

Each minute and unseen part;

For the Gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,

Both the unseen and the seen;

Make the house, where Gods may dwell,

Beautiful, entire, and clean.

Else our lives are incomplete,

Standing in these walls of Time,

Broken stairways, where the feet

Stumble as they seek to climb.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,

With a firm and ample base;

And ascending and secure

Shall to-morrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attain

To those turrets, where the eye

Sees the world as one vast plain,

And one boundless reach of sky.

Happy Mother’s Day.

And, if interested, my 1st mother’s day post I have written before this: Respect for the Single Mother.

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Written by Bruce