How to Spot a Cautionary Red Flag

Why discernment unites us

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Photo by Fusion Medical Animation on Unsplash

One day, about five years ago, the thought occurred to me to call my mom. At that time, she was an older senior adult living in a little one-bedroom house on the grounds of an independent retirement community. My dad had passed on about a decade before.

“Joanie, I’m so glad you called! The IRS just phoned to say I have a virus in my computer!”

Now my mom was one savvy take-no-prisoners retired kindergarten teacher for three decades. She’d wiped off her fair share of sticky fingers. Not a pushover. Nor an alarmist. So her anxious voice grabbed my attention.

A few quick questions and in seconds it was clear that the combination of being caught off guard, the authority behind the name “IRS,” discomfort with technology plus the frightening indistinct nature of theft snaking through her computer freaked my mom out to recklessly give a guy “Joe” remote access to her desktop.

Clearly, a con artist.

At my quick explanation, in an instant she decisively cut him off. (Next she changed all her passwords and alerted her financial institutions.)

It was easy for me to confidently respond to my mom. I wasn’t the one feeling under attack. Plus, wouldn’t you know, at the time in my job I was working on a team beefing up client education on how fraudsters work to con people out of their money.

Red Flag No. 1: Any time you’re told a situation is urgent and you must act immediately—that’s a red flag—designed to catch you off guard and pressure you into acting quickly that’s not in your best interest.

After that call—better informed—mom was more equipped to handle a future threat.

I’ve been circling back to these ideas in recent days.

What’s in our best interest?

Some days it feels like there are red flags everywhere. One giant smoke screen of counteracting narratives from strident voices. Like my mom’s initial reaction to the scam, the constant unnerving news cycle used to make me feel vulnerable and unprotected by threats.

But now the partisan alarmism is less effective. Just as my mom became more equipped to spot digital thieves, I have more discernment when it comes to spotting attempts to hijack or divert my attention.

So, I’m grateful to have friends and family who count themselves as thoughtful members of both the Republican and Democratic (and Independent) parties. That in these relationships there is space for divergent points of view and balanced conversation.

Such a contrast to manipulative headlines.

Tolerance because the flow of love and desire to walk in the others’ shoes is more important than agreement.

People like us from both sides of the aisle believe truth is better than falsehood. Kindness trumps indifference. Stewardship builds community while lawlessness tears it apart.

It’s an awesome collective purpose.

This is what I felt by participating in a No Kings march this past weekend. It felt right to walk alongside citizens. The day was clear and hot, in the 90s. After the march, an upbeat couple brought a guitar and ukulele and the crowd sang together Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land” under shade while the rest of the thousand participants snaked their line into the community park staging ground.

Similar to other gatherings in our fifty states.

I also know many others supported the march in spirit even though health or family or other concerns kept them at home.

Without the exercise of choice no progress can occur. And so this weekend I am grateful for the turnout that demonstrated the decision to protest against divisive ideas that do not serve our common good, and so, our own interests.

Unity and shared values transcended political labels to collective purpose.

For what purpose do I have, if not to serve others and to make a difference.

You know I picked a doozy of a real story for my biographical historical fiction about Jo van Gogh. She is one hard act to follow. After reading my book, a reader recently sent me a note, “It’s just unimaginable to think without Jo we would know nothing of Vincent van Gogh.”

Makes any achievement I can do in my lifetime feel pretty pale!

So, with humbler aspirations, I’m just trying to live a life with as few mistakes as possible. I’d rather learn by smarts instead of screw-ups but you know, all bets are off.

I still have lots more choices ahead.

Finally, as philosopher David R Hawkins wrote, “The universe holds its breath as we choose, instant by instant, which pathway to follow; for the universe, the very essence of life itself, is highly conscious. Every act, thought and choice adds to a permanent mosaic; our decisions ripple through the universe of consciousness to affect the lives of all.”

No con there.

Warmly,

My Book

You know I’ve been having fun sharing Jo’s story and would love to share it with you and your group! Complete this to connect and let me know your ideas of how I can share Jo’s story.

Saving Vincent, A Novel of Jo van Gogh, is about the woman that would not let Van Gogh die twice. This biographical historical novel is based on a true story.

In the early twentieth century, a timid widow—and sister-in-law of the famed painter—Jo van Gogh takes on the male-dominated art elite to prove that the hundreds of worthless paintings she inherited are world-class in order to ensure her young son will have an inheritance.

Buy Here

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My husband served in Vietnam. As a non-commissioned Army officer barely 20 yo he led other soldiers on the Ho Chi Minh Trail and so learned firsthand the horrid disconnect of all the American and North and South Vietnamese war rhetoric and the reality of soldiers and civilians paying the price for political inhumanity. So, it was with my personal connection to war – a connection I share with millions of people today – that I picked up DUST CHILD. I’m grateful I did; I admire Que Mai’s complex tale. The book is told from five points-of-view, a white American veteran and his wife, two South Vietnamese sisters and a Black Amerasian man whose soldier father is unknown, and got his mother pregnant in a brief encounter. Told in a dual timeline, the story moves back and forth between present day and South Vietnam in the ‘60s. There are no caricatures; each individual is achingly fleshed out , sketched out in each one’s hopes and dreams, naivete and desolation. Against the backdrop of each governing power’s propaganda, the individuals grapple with choices and mistakes, and ultimately, show their resilience. I love how Que Mai quotes Vietnamese words in their true spelling with diacritics intact instead of following the Western insult of Americanizing foreign words. Wounds from the Vietnam War still exist today. Dust Child is a sensitive, healing response.

Order more on Kate Quinn's website

I’ve been a Kate Quinn fangirl for a while and got to know The Phoenix Crown with a book club. There’s so much twisty plot to wrap your head around. Suspense, murders, mystery, but above all, sisterhood. There are three diverse main characters: Gemma, a silver-voiced soprano whose career desperately needs a restart; Suling, a resolute Chinatown embroideress who is determined to escape an arranged marriage; and Alice Eastwood, a determined, noted botanist (There’s actually a fourth female protagonist but it will be a spoiler if I tell you more.) Their paths casually criss cross before being thrown into together and in turmoil when San Fransisco’s devastating earthquake rips apart the city and they discover they have each been wronged by a common enemy. “The plot deliciously thickens” when he becomes their target.