I think Goad is a funny last name. Like many last names, it probably originated with the occupation of my ancestors. If you look it up, you’ll see that the goad was a sharp stick used to prod reluctant oxen or sheep. So my Great Great Great Great Great Grandfather may have been a farmer, or a shepherd tending his flock on the emerald green hills of Ireland. He used the goad to push the herd along and to pull strays back into line. I’m sure he may also have used it against wolves trying to infiltrate the herd, with or without sheep’s clothing.
I admit I’ve been more of a sheep than a shepherd most of my life. I’ve been pretty happy to go along with the flow, occasionally getting out of line and reveling in it. And it may sound presumptuous, but I’m feeling compelled now to step into a shepherd’s role. This blog will be dedicated to herding forward good ideas, and occasionally whacking a wayward wolf on the head. It will be dedicated to learning – about me – about you – and about what makes a life worth living in the herd.
Today a goad is generally defined as a statement that encourages, urges, or drives, and I’m going to try to live up to my name. Thanks for joining me on the uphill journey, and I apologize in advance if I poke you with a sharp stick.