Notes on things worth noting.
In receiving, things arrive damaged sometimes. A torn box. A leaning skid. Nothing worth stopping the day over. Becky looks at it and says, *It came in like that.* Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn’t. Once, in my department, I was throwing out warped lumber. Becky walked by, looked at it, and said the same thing. It obviously hadn’t come in like that. That was the joke. No lecture. No blame. Just a sentence and …
Becky is very particular about this one. Holding your own keys is not about trust. It is about responsibility. If someone else is holding your keys, they are holding your exit. They decide when you leave, how you leave, and what condition you leave in. Becky has seen people give their keys away casually, the way they give away small decisions. They mean nothing by it at the time. Later, they mean everything. Adulthood is …
Becky does not mean this literally. She never does. If you are old enough to be in a bar, you are old enough to look after your keys. And if you can look after your keys, you can look after yourself. The keys are just proof. They are small, ordinary, and easy to lose. So is your sense of judgment, if you’re not paying attention. Becky believes adulthood shows up in quiet ways. Not in …
This is something Becky says often, usually after a pause. People think honesty means saying everything they know. That is not what honesty means. If you did something wrong, do not make it easier for the situation to grow legs. Do not lie. Becky is very clear about that. But do not explain either. And for heaven’s sake, do not write anything down. Silence is not dishonesty. Silence is knowing when the moment has not …