Disney Creativity and Innovation Keynote Speaker
One million+ people globally while at Disney Institute.
We are not judging people when this happens, instead we wonder.
When people, or ourselves, live in disarray, the only real, clear question is, “Why don’t we live a more organized life.”
Why?
Next Blog
The purpose of this post is to help those needing healing, to heal just a little more. It doesn’t start out sounding like that though.
Dear Son, you have an interesting set of parents, both employed for the past 29 years at Walt Disney World. You live with the nightly option to look out any of our back windows, or simply sit at the dinner table, and watch Disney’s Magic Kingdom fireworks.
And wether we watch or not, hearing the booms is never an option, it comes inside our home even with the windows shut.
And during the day, the Walt Disney World Railroad steam train’s whistle, and the ferry boat’s horns.
Coming home last night from Scott’s “Celebration of Life” service, driving through “town” (WDW), God put His gentle hand on my soul and said, “Remember the words Frank spoke in his speech, and how he was afraid he couldn’t ever bear to go back to Disney, unless he went right away, and how Disney’s Grand Floridian visit was the best thing he could have done to keep his Brother’s memory alive?”
Next Blog
Being disorganized makes us sad and confused. And it does not make us hopeful.
Losing a good person to a tragic death, leaves us sad and confused also. And if handled well, can lead to hope.
That’s what we can pray for.
Next Blog
What do you do when tempted to cheat because you can get away with it?
Obvious answer – it depends.
Best answer – don’t.
Next Blog
Three people in the photo on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, taken a week ago, the first night of Mardi Gras.
Person on the left, crutches, pink cast on right foot.
Person on right is a street musician. His guitar case is off camera.
Center person. Drunk as a skunk. I’ve never seen a grown man in public pee in his pants. The stream of liquid from his shoes to the curb is urine.
Was too uncomfortable photographing his pants.
Was I supposed to offer help?
Feeling somewhere between coward and hypocrite?
Next Blog