Last night was a terrible night of sleep, when at 2:00am my daughter gets up and says, “Daddy… there is someone in the backyard! Can you call the police? I want to go to a hotel to sleep.”

“Hotel…” I groggily question, “Why a hotel?”

Got to love the imagination of childhood, “It’s safe there,” she says.

To the window I go, and with the support of barks from our intimidating Yorkshire and Scottish Terriers, I yell to our well-walled yard and vacant yard, “Go away!”

No reaction… the yard is clear. I even pause for a careful listen and a study of our people conscience K-9’s. Thirty-minutes down, the backyard is absolutely void of man. The coast is clear, time for sleep.

“We’re OK kiddo… go to sleep,” I comfort.

“No daddy… someone is really there!” she whispers, not wanting to be heard by our unseen assailant.

“I tell you what… I’ll go look outside and if there is no one there, can we go to sleep,” I plea.

“OK daddy.”

Oh, by the way, my wife is now awake, so this incident is starting becoming a family engagement.

To the stairs I go, and after tripping over a laundry basket that is strategically place at the base of the steps, quite possibly with the intent to kill, I begin my underwear wielding exploration of land’s known.

There is not a living being in sight, and other that the sleep deprived ramblings of the Radstone militia, my 2:45am barefoot romp over dog doo infested grasslands is generally uninterrupted (It is now that I very much regret my not living up to my shoveling commitment).

Again… “No one in the backyard,” I report in returning from my recon mission. And other that the organic land mines that somehow my bare feet have managed to safely circumvent, the field is safe.

I debrief commander daughter. “All safe, dogs accounted for, area secure, may we return to sleep General.”

“Daddy, stay calm…” the whispering memo resumes, “… really, there is really someone out there, can we go to a hotel!?”

We’re one hour into the search, at first, I’m patient and understanding, but as we align for round four of “there is no one there,” I can’t help to disperse to visions of the film, “The Sixth Sense,” where Cole says to his dad, “Daddy, I see dead people.”

Contrasting that reference, the only dead person I see is the one about to pass out from lack of REM time, namely me. I prepare for what I am assured is to be a sleepless night of epic proportion. And it is.

I wake this morning, and trust me; wake is a glorified understatement. The actuality is much less glorified; full mind fatigue, a family of moody reactors… all twitchy, and all just looking for a reason. The beginnings of an outstanding day are starting to disolve.

Better yet, the ringing in my ears has transitioned to a shifting dance of eye flare at the sight of the rising sun. So as I mind travel into an apprehensive tiredness in approaching the today, I am halted from my own sleep selfishness when I realize the clock is ticking and I have not yet met my friend for the last twenty-four hour period.

“I’ve got to go on a 365 drive,” I stammer, announcing to the General of sleep torture and her other victim – my equally shell-shocked wife.

I’m telling you, that at times the sanctuary of my car is a hallowed space, and today it gives me a second wind of inspiration as to where to go. “To the business district!” Corporal Honda charges.

Wow! I’m really sleep deprived; my auto is now speaking to me. “Hey baggy eyed dude! How about you get over your post invisible man issues by going on a scouting mission? And why not revisit the original motivator to the beginning of 365 – the humanity lacking CEO that got you reaching out for a better humanity?”

I’m already feeling crappy, now I’m hallucinating. But, what the heck, let’s go for it and see if we can scout out a stressed executive who is just looking for a target. Maybe I’ll be luck and take a verbal arrow. “All for one and one for all! Hip Hip Cheerio and all that!”

The day is beginning a bit dizzy, so I’m in, bring on the battle of wits, I’m ready.

Into the jungle of glass towers car and I deploy, reading to become a casualty of the 8:30am start-up pace. But as I walk towards the black towers of enterprise, I come across Canon Business Solutions expert Luis, who is check listing his equipment and supplies in readying himself for a siege on the front lines.

I approach, and prying on my shell-shocked personality, I reach out with a handshake in inviting him into our world.

Quickly, Luis joins our ranks, and with and equally open handshake, reaches out a hand friendship saying, “I’d be glad to answer your questions. It would be a pleasure, and kind of an honor to be able to be part of your project.”

Luis’ words hit home fast, and humble me to review the attitude brought upon me from a sleepless night. He states, “Always be patient to another person… always respect that other person…”

It’s not that I did not respect my daughter. In fact, I listened to her worries, not discounting the possibility of an intruder to our property. But was I patient and fully respectful of her fears? A question that I am examining as I write this post.

Luis expands, “…and if you are able to do anything for your community, always share something that everybody in your community can look to as way to at least be happy where they live.”

I’m humbled again. I’ll be the first to admit that I have a corporate America chip on my shoulder. But is it fair of me that because of an abusive treatment I received way back in September, that I should place a general assessment on a whole culture? I think not!

So… I write corrected. And although I will no lie in telling you that I shall still stand to the front of the fight in bearing arms for the rights of the individual. As well as challenging your acceptance in carrying forward my call in championing the power of the one. I must step away from myself long enough to listen to Luis in opening my eyes a little wider. To see the good works of corporate America, and to push myself in not reflecting too heavily on the corrupters and money mongers.

Lois addresses his counsel for what is to come.

“’God willing… hopefully we will still be here, and for our children, hopefully it will be a cleaner world. This green thing is a good idea… ‘Going Green…’ Hopefully by then I can make it to my eighty years old. I’m only forty-six. That will be forty years from now, but having tolerance, and hopefully having peace… everybody could get along with each other.

And I wish everybody in the world would have a little patience with each other so that everybody can get alone.”

Lois has experienced a lot of life, “I had a couple of things happen to me, and believe me, it really humbles a person, when you have an experience or tragedy that affects you personally, or when you see a person that doesn’t have a home and can’t even eat, it makes you think.

I had a medical the experience that happened to me. I was like an hour away from dying, I thought that would never happen to me, but it did. And because of that I will never look at the world the same again.”

Lois… you say, “If you are able to do anything for your community, always share something that everybody in your community can look to as way to at least be happy where they live.”

I get it… And I think I understand why you are so open with me this day. And even though you are journeying into the corporate jungle, I can understand your mission. Sure you are repairing machines, but after speaking with you, might I be presumptuous enough to comment that I think you are also repairing communities.

Per your words Lois, “And I wish everybody in the world would have a little patience with each other so that everybody can get alone.”

Thanks Lois!