Last week was interesting. I feel confident that I can say YES-- I have a full time job now. I'm not so confident that I'll have it much longer if we don't find a way for the farm to produce some serious income in the middle of winter.
Technically, I'm the "Executive Coordinator" for the Farm, the Foundation, the Education programming that comes out of both, and to some degree also for the farm Community and Household. I asked the head of our Foundation Education Committee to look over the job descriptions that the three of us fleshed out for future reference, having filled in the details of what currently rests on my shoulders, and she said it was a perfect recipe for burnout. I agree.
Last week, I finally struggled through the last three days of writing and submitting a grant to the ubs govgt. The grant that may, in twelve months, pay for me to actually preserve, digitize, and web-ize the Foundation's Archive. You know, that job I was originally actually HIRED FOR six months ago. It's the first grant proposal I've ever written.
And boy-howdy was it a learning experience for the first one to be a govgt one! Before I could access the application packet, I had to apply for a DUNS number. And before I could apply for a DUNS number, there were one or two OTHER applications and passwords I had to request. Each of which took between 2 days and a week to get. And you can't skip steps.
Then, on the two days I'd set aside to write the grant, we first spent all day interviewing and meeting about our new Farm Manager (thank you god, she's on board for at least the next three months). The second day I spent doing last minute preparations for the Foundation Appreciation Dinner, and having conversations with my two team mates about the structure of our jobs so that I could, in fact, get on with my job without interference from She-Rex. Who-- I want to acknowledge-- is a vital and incredibly committed member of the team. I'm glad she's there. I just don't want her interfacing with clients. She has a tendency to make them run away.
So I set aside a day to work from home. And I did work from home all that day, but not on the grant. So I worked off the record the next day and a half-- on the grant. And I worked a full day (minus the two hours I spent meeting with the team because SR needed to make decisions about something that won't happen until next Spring) the day before the grant was due on pulling together the final application materials and the budget, and getting signatures where they were needed.
The day the application was due, my day off, I discovered that there was an ADDITIONAL APPLICATION FORM that was only available online, and that my computer operating system was too old to let me open. And then I spent the day at GB's house on HIS computer, swearing and filling out forms online. Then I discovered that the Budget Form (which is on a different website from the application form and application download site) can only be filled out online, and can't be saved once you fill it out, and has to be uploaded to the application download site, which you can only do if it's saved to your computer. AAAAAAARRRGHH!
I over came that hurdle, and got all the way to the place where you finally get to hit SUBMIT... only to discover that one must have a login and password to submit anything. WTF?
So I tried the first login and password I'd had to sign up for waaay back when I was applying for the fricken DUNS number. And was told no, that's wrong, and you have two more tries before we lock you and your application out of our system. Shit.
So I tried the second login and password I'd had to sign up for waay back when I was trying to get signed up to apply for this fricken grant. And was told, no, that's wrong, and you have one more try. Neener Neener Poopoo Head.
Okay.
So I called the govgt grant offices at 6:15pm Eastern Time for help, and SOMEONE HELPED ME!!!! She told me how to sign up for the login that lets you actually submit the grant application. And she stayed on the phone with me while I did it. And it only took two minutes instead of two weeks. And then I submitted my grant proposal, with three hours to spare before the deadline.
OMFG!!!
That was Tuesday. On Wednesday, I worked. On Thursday, I did accounts and worked and prepped for the Teacher Fair on Friday that I had a booth at, and organized a couple of new orders for our Big City Contingent of Dairy Buyers.
On Friday, I spent all day at the Teacher Fair, getting us tons of potential new Education Field-Trip Clients, and networking with other museums and historical sites in the area.
On Saturday, my one day off this weekend, I got an email that totally blew all my work with the Dairy Contingent out of the water, and basically put me in a position where the Dairy Contingent will probably not want to work with me because they don't think I know what I'm talking about. It was an email sent by my boss to me, the dairy contingent, and SR. I still don't know why SR got the email, as she's made it clear she wants nothing further to do with the dairy or the goats.
So I sent a not-happy email to my boss, explaining the effect of her email on my ability to help her with the Dairy Orders in the foreseeable future. Hard to help when nobody believes a word you say, non? And then I spent the rest of the day trying to pack and sort some of my stuff, and cleaning house, because it needs it.
Today, Sunday, I go to work again. We have a Foundation Board Meeting, and I have to arrive early so that I can prepare the materials and reports necessary for that meeting, and find out if I still have a job after the email I sent my boss.
Talk about your recipe for burn out! ...sigh... And I really love my work and this farm. So I really hope we overcome some of these challenges soon.
Well, that's all from Lake Woebegone this week, where all the women are strong, the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.
Showing posts with label attempting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label attempting. Show all posts
Sunday, October 11
Monday, September 14
Windburn
GOOD LORD, life got busy! I thought it was busy when I spent all my time applying for jobs and writing my book and working part-time as a Life Coach and keeping up with friends and working on my other projects. But it wasn't.
For the past two weeks (and this is a happy thing), I've worked six days a week. Four at the Farm, and two half-days as a nanny for this huge chunky four-month-old-baby with a lady-killer smile. Next week, I get to focus more on the Farm. (Which, really, is more about the Foundation, and a lot about Education, come to that. I may even eventually get to do the job I was originally hired for, and preserve/digitize/catalog something. You never know.)
And it is SUCH a freakin awesome place to work! We have free-range wild ducks that are huge and black with red and blue and white bits here and there-- and they have little fuzzy yellow babies!! We have three grey barn kittens who keep sneaking into the house and onto peoples' laps when they aren't looking, and one old black Tom who lives by the kitchen stove. We have apple trees and pear trees and zuchinis the size of small sports cars. Lots of friendly male goats who come when called ("hhheeeeerrrr goat-goat-goat, hhheeeeeerrrr goat-goat-goat!") and really want you to rub behind their ears, and three dappled white Davenport-Arabian horses that all want to make sure they get some of whatever you're handing out.
We have school children learning to make butter and listening to the story of Florinda Geer who traveled the Oregon Trail with her parents when she was eight years old, and then planted a tree on her parents' land-grant farm in 1856 that is still standing and growing on that same farm today. We have farm-fresh dairy cheese made with an old recipe from very old hillside cave dairy farms in Switzerland. We have an archive with over 165 years of family history, letters, tintype photos, and furniture from that trip over the Oregon Trail in 1846.
What we don't have is money to keep everything going. We're still working on that bit.
Anyway, four days at the farm with long 45-mile drives to get there and back, plus working part time as a Life Coach, plus writing my book and keeping up with friends and working as a Moderator for an online information distribution website and carving out time to spend with my boyfriend and and and-- Well it's a heck of a lot busier than I was before. And I love everything I'm doing. I just don't get much sleep. And the days are flying by so quickly anymore, I keep checking my face for windburn.
For the past two weeks (and this is a happy thing), I've worked six days a week. Four at the Farm, and two half-days as a nanny for this huge chunky four-month-old-baby with a lady-killer smile. Next week, I get to focus more on the Farm. (Which, really, is more about the Foundation, and a lot about Education, come to that. I may even eventually get to do the job I was originally hired for, and preserve/digitize/catalog something. You never know.)
And it is SUCH a freakin awesome place to work! We have free-range wild ducks that are huge and black with red and blue and white bits here and there-- and they have little fuzzy yellow babies!! We have three grey barn kittens who keep sneaking into the house and onto peoples' laps when they aren't looking, and one old black Tom who lives by the kitchen stove. We have apple trees and pear trees and zuchinis the size of small sports cars. Lots of friendly male goats who come when called ("hhheeeeerrrr goat-goat-goat, hhheeeeeerrrr goat-goat-goat!") and really want you to rub behind their ears, and three dappled white Davenport-Arabian horses that all want to make sure they get some of whatever you're handing out.
We have school children learning to make butter and listening to the story of Florinda Geer who traveled the Oregon Trail with her parents when she was eight years old, and then planted a tree on her parents' land-grant farm in 1856 that is still standing and growing on that same farm today. We have farm-fresh dairy cheese made with an old recipe from very old hillside cave dairy farms in Switzerland. We have an archive with over 165 years of family history, letters, tintype photos, and furniture from that trip over the Oregon Trail in 1846.
What we don't have is money to keep everything going. We're still working on that bit.
Anyway, four days at the farm with long 45-mile drives to get there and back, plus working part time as a Life Coach, plus writing my book and keeping up with friends and working as a Moderator for an online information distribution website and carving out time to spend with my boyfriend and and and-- Well it's a heck of a lot busier than I was before. And I love everything I'm doing. I just don't get much sleep. And the days are flying by so quickly anymore, I keep checking my face for windburn.
Tuesday, July 14
Vulnerabilities
My copy of "Truth In Dating" by Susan M. Campbell went missing a couple of months ago, so I borrowed a copy from the library. Now it's due back because someone else put a hold on it. Probably someone I've recommended the book to. It's a really great book, for ANY person-to-person relationship, be it work, family, friends, or actual dating scenarios. I highly recommend it. Often.
So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.
So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.
So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.
It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.
From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.
Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.
For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.
Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!
...should be fun...
So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.
So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.
So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.
It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.
From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.
Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.
For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.
Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!
...should be fun...
Tuesday, June 2
Entangled
Well, having done a bit of fishing on that PlentyOfFish site, I actually caught somebody. Or he caught me. Well, regardless, we're spending a lot of time together. So I guess I'm now an advocate of some judicial dating websitery. Though there were quite a few potential catches that I threw back so they'd have more time to mature...
This particular euphamism is SO MUCH FUN TO PLAY WITH!!! Even if I can't spell it.
Ahem-- So. It's been nearly a month since I met the Boy, and he's pretty great. (GB for short-- as in Great Boy) I thought I had these high expectations for the next guy I would willingly get silly over, and I expected that most men I met would just fall way short of those expectations. And I wasn't going to compromise, either. Not this time.
See, I'd finally become ready to pursue dating-- but I sort of had it in the back of my head that I was still probably better off alone. Problem is, GB keeps exceeding those expectations of mine like they don't even exist. He even managed to enjoy himself at my parents' recent "Old Folks" reunion of people who knew each other before I was born. And he didn't even need any babysitting. He just went and blended right in, and ... well, it was pretty cool, really.
And now that I'm officially dating someone specific, I have a whole new list of questions you want to ask after you've been dating for a bit, but probably shouldn't... Like the ones for the initial dating scenario on the right there... only now it's been a few weeks since the first date. And I don't think I'll be posting those questions here. I like making the Boy blush, but only in private.
So he (GB) manages to mix a little bit of Romantic and Self-Confident with a whole lot of Practical and Responsible, and then throws in a heavy-handed shot of Unpredictable. It's the Unpredictable that gives our relationship its kick-- though the original ingredients definitely have their place. See, Unpredictable is a combination of Devilish, Nerdy, Thoughtful, Observant, Devilish, and Sweet.
He's not perfect. Really not. (I do wish he had a little more "communicates current intentions" in him sometimes...) But then, nobody is. I mean, take me, for example. I waited until 20 minutes before I had to leave for an appointment with my cat and her daily dose of medicine, and then I way over-communicated something to BG that I'm not sure *I* understand yet, and burst into tears all over his favorite shirt. (For reasons totally unrelated to him!) It was not my best moment, really.
The good news is that when I did it, he just hugged me, and was all calm and patient and understanding, and then he handed me a cookie and walked me to my car. And when he gets on his "doom and gloom are coming" jags, I'm pretty good at giving him a hug, and pointing out other more positive potential outcomes to the situation he's worried about-- or just something pretty I notice in the real world outside to bring him back to Earth...
The bad news is that we have pretty different tastes in movies and books... And that it's harder than I thought to say what I want and go after it regardless, once I decide to really start caring for somebody. Also, I'm realizing that it will just take a lot of time-- and checking in with MYSELF-- to really know how my expectations and I are doing in this relationship. And I mean both the expectations I have for myself, and for how I'm treated by the Boy.
Funny, that. We're both unused to being with someone so considerate as each other, and I think we have a lot of communication issues to iron out. Well, I do, anyway. A hard thing for me to acknowledge, when I've always been so gifted in the art of communication and understanding others' perspectives and motivations. But I also recognize that this would be true no matter WHICH boy I ended up dating. And I really appreciate that GB and I seem to be equally committed to figuring it all out and actually HAVING GOOD COMMUNICATION. And, really, it's only been a month. If you don't count the time we spent on email before our first date.
We'll see if he's still opening doors for me, and taking time for good two-way communication & clarification, and noticing what kind of ice cream I like-- and then buying a gallon of it for his freezer-- in another few months. We'll see if I've managed to overcome my angst about the many times when his plans and priorities make sense in a linear logical way, but mine make sense in an emotional internal logic sort of way-- and instead of acknowledging our differing priorities, I feel like a fool for not seeing things his way-- once we sort out why neither of us had the outcome we expected just now. And then I get a bit angsty about how difficult my logic is to explain or defend. Which is really a communication problem mixed with a little insecurity. And I suspect the problem isn't all on my side.
We'll see if I'm able to keep my needs and preferences separate in my mind from his-- and if I'm still making ME (and my perfectly appropriate logic) my priority-- in another few months. Because I think that's important to a healthy relationship. And I know from experience that it's really hard for me to do. But if *I* don't stay true to myself, who will?
So here I am. Entangled in my own fishing line, totally thrilled by my awesome catch, and not really sure if I'm strong enough to handle the challenging personal battle he represents. I'm not even sure what kind of fish he is yet. I just hope things stay as good over the long-term as they seem right now. Because they seem pretty awesome from where I'm sitting in this little boat for two.
This particular euphamism is SO MUCH FUN TO PLAY WITH!!! Even if I can't spell it.
Ahem-- So. It's been nearly a month since I met the Boy, and he's pretty great. (GB for short-- as in Great Boy) I thought I had these high expectations for the next guy I would willingly get silly over, and I expected that most men I met would just fall way short of those expectations. And I wasn't going to compromise, either. Not this time.
See, I'd finally become ready to pursue dating-- but I sort of had it in the back of my head that I was still probably better off alone. Problem is, GB keeps exceeding those expectations of mine like they don't even exist. He even managed to enjoy himself at my parents' recent "Old Folks" reunion of people who knew each other before I was born. And he didn't even need any babysitting. He just went and blended right in, and ... well, it was pretty cool, really.
And now that I'm officially dating someone specific, I have a whole new list of questions you want to ask after you've been dating for a bit, but probably shouldn't... Like the ones for the initial dating scenario on the right there... only now it's been a few weeks since the first date. And I don't think I'll be posting those questions here. I like making the Boy blush, but only in private.
So he (GB) manages to mix a little bit of Romantic and Self-Confident with a whole lot of Practical and Responsible, and then throws in a heavy-handed shot of Unpredictable. It's the Unpredictable that gives our relationship its kick-- though the original ingredients definitely have their place. See, Unpredictable is a combination of Devilish, Nerdy, Thoughtful, Observant, Devilish, and Sweet.
He's not perfect. Really not. (I do wish he had a little more "communicates current intentions" in him sometimes...) But then, nobody is. I mean, take me, for example. I waited until 20 minutes before I had to leave for an appointment with my cat and her daily dose of medicine, and then I way over-communicated something to BG that I'm not sure *I* understand yet, and burst into tears all over his favorite shirt. (For reasons totally unrelated to him!) It was not my best moment, really.
The good news is that when I did it, he just hugged me, and was all calm and patient and understanding, and then he handed me a cookie and walked me to my car. And when he gets on his "doom and gloom are coming" jags, I'm pretty good at giving him a hug, and pointing out other more positive potential outcomes to the situation he's worried about-- or just something pretty I notice in the real world outside to bring him back to Earth...
The bad news is that we have pretty different tastes in movies and books... And that it's harder than I thought to say what I want and go after it regardless, once I decide to really start caring for somebody. Also, I'm realizing that it will just take a lot of time-- and checking in with MYSELF-- to really know how my expectations and I are doing in this relationship. And I mean both the expectations I have for myself, and for how I'm treated by the Boy.
Funny, that. We're both unused to being with someone so considerate as each other, and I think we have a lot of communication issues to iron out. Well, I do, anyway. A hard thing for me to acknowledge, when I've always been so gifted in the art of communication and understanding others' perspectives and motivations. But I also recognize that this would be true no matter WHICH boy I ended up dating. And I really appreciate that GB and I seem to be equally committed to figuring it all out and actually HAVING GOOD COMMUNICATION. And, really, it's only been a month. If you don't count the time we spent on email before our first date.
We'll see if he's still opening doors for me, and taking time for good two-way communication & clarification, and noticing what kind of ice cream I like-- and then buying a gallon of it for his freezer-- in another few months. We'll see if I've managed to overcome my angst about the many times when his plans and priorities make sense in a linear logical way, but mine make sense in an emotional internal logic sort of way-- and instead of acknowledging our differing priorities, I feel like a fool for not seeing things his way-- once we sort out why neither of us had the outcome we expected just now. And then I get a bit angsty about how difficult my logic is to explain or defend. Which is really a communication problem mixed with a little insecurity. And I suspect the problem isn't all on my side.
We'll see if I'm able to keep my needs and preferences separate in my mind from his-- and if I'm still making ME (and my perfectly appropriate logic) my priority-- in another few months. Because I think that's important to a healthy relationship. And I know from experience that it's really hard for me to do. But if *I* don't stay true to myself, who will?
So here I am. Entangled in my own fishing line, totally thrilled by my awesome catch, and not really sure if I'm strong enough to handle the challenging personal battle he represents. I'm not even sure what kind of fish he is yet. I just hope things stay as good over the long-term as they seem right now. Because they seem pretty awesome from where I'm sitting in this little boat for two.
Wednesday, April 29
At the Root
I've been working to strengthen my Root Chakra lately. (Strength is important-- particularly when you've got a cat lying on your arms and you're trying to type.) It has been a roller-coaster couple of weeks, and the timing for having my Root Chakra nice and strong couldn't be better.
Calamity comes in all shapes and sizes, and a bunch of my dear friends have been faced with one calamity or another in the past week or two. And it's a relief to support them all without having to also feel all their pain for them. At this point, I've done enough work as a Life Coach to be able to separate what *I* am feeling on my own behalf from what I am feeling on SOMEONE ELSE'S behalf.
And so I was tired from all the energy I (gladly) used in support of my friends coping with life-crisis stuff... but I wasn't emotionally overwhelmed or incapacitated by all the grief. And I'm really proud of myself for that.
The Root Chakra, by the way, is the one in charge of our connection with the Earth, our sense of security and belonging, our financial and physical well-being, our safety, our solidity in whatever we are trying to accomplish with our lives, and our groundedness. (is that a word?) And each chakra has a specific "right" attached to it-- like the right to bare arms, only that isn't one of them. For the Root Chakra, you have the right to be here; and the right to have.
It was a weird sort of awareness for me to realize that I've spent most of my life working really hard to make other people look good, and help other people achieve their dreams/goals/successes. And I've spent the last several years not really believing I had a right to my own success, or to use my skills and experiences and abilities to make MYSELF look good. No wonder it's been so hard to find a good-paying job. I never felt like I deserved one!
Over the past few weeks, I've made a point of focusing on my Root Chakra, and being grounded in my right to have, for a few minutes every day. And I can feel the difference. I'm a lot better grounded than I was a few weeks ago. Thank goodness, considering all the challenges that have come up since then.
Even the visit to the Family Farm couldn't have been better-timed. OH-- and I finally broke down and bought some freeze-dried nettle leaf capsules (instead of relying solely on my home-brew nettle tincture)-- and they are SO controlling my allergies with NO side effects!!! YAY for uninterrupted sleep!! (Except of course, that Abbigale continues to throw up a little too frequently this week, and I had to jump out of bed an hour before my alarm so I could give her some tummy meds-- which did work this time, thank goodness!)
Calamity comes in all shapes and sizes, and a bunch of my dear friends have been faced with one calamity or another in the past week or two. And it's a relief to support them all without having to also feel all their pain for them. At this point, I've done enough work as a Life Coach to be able to separate what *I* am feeling on my own behalf from what I am feeling on SOMEONE ELSE'S behalf.
And so I was tired from all the energy I (gladly) used in support of my friends coping with life-crisis stuff... but I wasn't emotionally overwhelmed or incapacitated by all the grief. And I'm really proud of myself for that.
The Root Chakra, by the way, is the one in charge of our connection with the Earth, our sense of security and belonging, our financial and physical well-being, our safety, our solidity in whatever we are trying to accomplish with our lives, and our groundedness. (is that a word?) And each chakra has a specific "right" attached to it-- like the right to bare arms, only that isn't one of them. For the Root Chakra, you have the right to be here; and the right to have.
It was a weird sort of awareness for me to realize that I've spent most of my life working really hard to make other people look good, and help other people achieve their dreams/goals/successes. And I've spent the last several years not really believing I had a right to my own success, or to use my skills and experiences and abilities to make MYSELF look good. No wonder it's been so hard to find a good-paying job. I never felt like I deserved one!
Over the past few weeks, I've made a point of focusing on my Root Chakra, and being grounded in my right to have, for a few minutes every day. And I can feel the difference. I'm a lot better grounded than I was a few weeks ago. Thank goodness, considering all the challenges that have come up since then.
Even the visit to the Family Farm couldn't have been better-timed. OH-- and I finally broke down and bought some freeze-dried nettle leaf capsules (instead of relying solely on my home-brew nettle tincture)-- and they are SO controlling my allergies with NO side effects!!! YAY for uninterrupted sleep!! (Except of course, that Abbigale continues to throw up a little too frequently this week, and I had to jump out of bed an hour before my alarm so I could give her some tummy meds-- which did work this time, thank goodness!)
Wednesday, January 28
Not Even Funny
My cat is in the Animal Hospital today. They're trying to figure out why she stopped eating and drinking two days ago, why her chest hurts, why she has a build-up of gas, why she's been puking and other grossness for the last 24 hours, at both ends. And how to make it all better.
I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to cope. She is a fixture in my life. She is one of my best friends, and my life-companion. She is only ten years old. And if she needs surgery to remove an obstruction in her bowels, I'm not sure I can pay for it.
I'm trying to figure out how to make my situation go away. How to have a job, or another credit card, so that I could have a hope of paying for this. Or rent. Rent would be nice to be able to pay, too. I'm trying to figure out how I got so desperate financially that I would even consider NOT getting this $800-$2000 surgery for my Abbigale. I'm looking into donations from animal-rescue organizations. I'm looking into my credit card totals to see how bad they really are. I'm looking into payment plans. My vet is looking into some possible other cause for her illness.
I'm trying to cope with my sudden reality that I've already spent $600 on her medical care today, and that I really don't want to wake up without her tomorrow... and that it costs less to put my best friend to sleep than to heal her... but even that would be expensive. I'm really trying to cope with reality, but failing.
Because the reality is that she is my one ability to keep coping with my life. She gives me a reason to get up (even if it's a half-hour earlier than I wanted to get up), and she helps me sleep at night. She loves me unconditionally, and forgives me for being selfish and stupid from time to time. Nobody else does that. How can I weigh her life against something as stupid as two or three months' worth of rent payments.
I have some wonderful wonderful human friends-- and some of them have really been there for me when I've been in tight spots at various times. But believe me-- I've spent more time being content because SHE was content to be with me than I have just happy on my own account. So here it is.
The last few shreds of hope I have are that maybe the problem is something that can actually be fixed without surgery... or that I won the lottery last week and just don't know it yet. Because as much as I need a job, and want the opportunity to earn my way-- I'm going to feel like shit if I get a good-paying job within a few days or weeks of putting her to sleep for lack of funds.
I know that my desires are purely selfish here-- the desire to keep her alive, and the desire not to go into debt to do so. And I've realized, that as much as it's going to hurt-- whatever the outcome-- what I really want is for her to know I love her, and for her not to suffer. Whatever that means, I think I can make my peace with it. Eventually. After the heart-hurt eases a bit, and the empty spot starts to heal. I know I'm never going to fill her spot.
Today, I'm just sitting around waiting for news, researching dead-end financial options and grant moneys for emergency pet care, and crying. At least, after I made the vet appointment last night, she and I had the whole night to lay together and cuddle on the bed. And even though she had to get off the bed to vommit and have diareah about five or six times, she always made her way back up to where she could sleep on my arm, curled into my side.
God, Goddess, please let her live.
I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to cope. She is a fixture in my life. She is one of my best friends, and my life-companion. She is only ten years old. And if she needs surgery to remove an obstruction in her bowels, I'm not sure I can pay for it.
I'm trying to figure out how to make my situation go away. How to have a job, or another credit card, so that I could have a hope of paying for this. Or rent. Rent would be nice to be able to pay, too. I'm trying to figure out how I got so desperate financially that I would even consider NOT getting this $800-$2000 surgery for my Abbigale. I'm looking into donations from animal-rescue organizations. I'm looking into my credit card totals to see how bad they really are. I'm looking into payment plans. My vet is looking into some possible other cause for her illness.
I'm trying to cope with my sudden reality that I've already spent $600 on her medical care today, and that I really don't want to wake up without her tomorrow... and that it costs less to put my best friend to sleep than to heal her... but even that would be expensive. I'm really trying to cope with reality, but failing.
Because the reality is that she is my one ability to keep coping with my life. She gives me a reason to get up (even if it's a half-hour earlier than I wanted to get up), and she helps me sleep at night. She loves me unconditionally, and forgives me for being selfish and stupid from time to time. Nobody else does that. How can I weigh her life against something as stupid as two or three months' worth of rent payments.
I have some wonderful wonderful human friends-- and some of them have really been there for me when I've been in tight spots at various times. But believe me-- I've spent more time being content because SHE was content to be with me than I have just happy on my own account. So here it is.
The last few shreds of hope I have are that maybe the problem is something that can actually be fixed without surgery... or that I won the lottery last week and just don't know it yet. Because as much as I need a job, and want the opportunity to earn my way-- I'm going to feel like shit if I get a good-paying job within a few days or weeks of putting her to sleep for lack of funds.
I know that my desires are purely selfish here-- the desire to keep her alive, and the desire not to go into debt to do so. And I've realized, that as much as it's going to hurt-- whatever the outcome-- what I really want is for her to know I love her, and for her not to suffer. Whatever that means, I think I can make my peace with it. Eventually. After the heart-hurt eases a bit, and the empty spot starts to heal. I know I'm never going to fill her spot.
Today, I'm just sitting around waiting for news, researching dead-end financial options and grant moneys for emergency pet care, and crying. At least, after I made the vet appointment last night, she and I had the whole night to lay together and cuddle on the bed. And even though she had to get off the bed to vommit and have diareah about five or six times, she always made her way back up to where she could sleep on my arm, curled into my side.
God, Goddess, please let her live.
Sunday, December 7
Waiting for Forgiveness
I've been ill the last week. I'm definitely getting better, but it's been eight days since I could say I really felt functional. And I've still got an overabundance of green snot.
Eww!
Those eight days covered the first of the month-- the day I have not one but three rent checks due. Rent for my storage space. Rent for my office. Rent for my apartment. Friday was the day after thanksgiving. I had big plans to get a few of those rent payments made then-- the 30th of November. But I stayed overnight with family in another town, and had about an hour of time at home-- frantically unpacking, repacking, petting grumpy cats, feeding hungry cats, feeding hungry me, trying to get my contacts to function in my eyes, and on and on like that-- before I got back in the car and drove another two hours to my next big holiday gathering of the weekend.
The rent didn't get paid.
Monday was the first. By Sunday, I knew I was sick. I didn't leave my bed much. I think I made it downstairs for food once or twice. Oh, on Monday I did drive out to the storage unit to make that payment. It was a painful trip, but I needed another couple boxes of kleenex, so I made it happen. I had a client planned for Tuesday-- I thought I'd pay rent when I went to the office then. By Monday night, I called my clients for Tuesday AND Wednesday-- to reschedule. I was that sick.
My Thursday client called to reschedule, too. She is on meds that repress her immuno system. Neither of us wanted her to get sick. So I didn't get into the office on that day either. That night, I realized too late to call my office landlord that I never did let her know what was going on with the rent check. That it was really late now. And I felt like shit.
In the midst of that thought process, as if I thought of it because she thought of it-- she called to ask me what was going on with the rent check. I never wanted her to have to do that. And I felt shitty about not getting it to her on time. Shitty that I was relying on her goodness of heart to not charge me tons of late fees, and for it to be okay that I just was too sick to remember to pay her somehow.
So I called back, but she didn't answer. And I've left her a payment-- and called twice a day since Thursday for one reason or another. And she hasn't answered any of my calls, nor returned any of my messages. I'm being a pest, and I know it. But I made a mistake. And I feel bad. And I want her to tell me that it's okay. That things like this happen, and it isn't a big deal. I want her to forgive me so that I can forgive myself.
Intellectually, I know my landlord probably wouldn't have cashed the check by now anyway-- but we have a contract, and I broke it. I broke it enough that she had to follow up with me about it-- and I didn't follow up with her first. I left her a check on Friday-- the fifth of the month.
The worst part is that I actually tried to take care of myself on Saturday. To sleep enough to finally get well-- and I slept long enough that I totally missed going to the bank before it closed to deposit money to COVER the checks I wrote for rent. I hate being in debt. I hate being afraid of writing checks and buying food on credit. And right now, I can't even find someone to buy my car for it's actual kelly-blue-book value. I find myself praying that the auto-payment on the car loan won't come out until Tuesday-- after I've had a chance to put money I don't have in the bank.
I know the world is in recession. I know everyone around me is feeling the pinch. I saw it all coming early enough to have done something about it, too. But somehow, doing everything I could wasn't enough, or wasn't the right thing at the right time. Somehow, here I am in as big a mess as everybody else, with student loans and car loans and credit card loans and family loans to pay off, and a new business to get off the ground... and no income.
I know that part of why that payment was late is that I spent the week hoping for a miracle. Hoping for enough clients to have appointments and pay me for them that I'd have money in the bank to cover my expenses. And someday, I know I will. I love what I do, and it's important and valuable work. The clients I do have love my services and return as often as they can. It's a huge compliment. Exciting.
But as yet, it hasn't covered my bills. So I'm downsizing. Trying to clear out my storage unit. Trying to sell my car. Trying to live on what money my business DOES bring in. Daydreaming of a time when I can build my own home, and include space for renters, maybe even space to see clients there, so that all my income doesn't come from one place. So that I can start to put money away for retirement. So that my lifestyle really does support Mother Earth.
Because the home I want to build will be insulated enough to keep out summer heat and keep in winter warmth with only the help of a zero-emission masonry fireplace. A home that collects rainwater for household use, and reuses/harvests gray water in sustainable ways. A home that I feel safe sleeping in at night, and that has spaces for me to welcome friends for a visit now and then. And a root cellar to store foods away, so that I can spend my money on local farmers and in-season produce, and benefit year-round from having done so. Maybe even find time for a garden of my own. And grow my own herbs for the healing teas and tonics and ointments that I make.
Maybe then I'll finally feel like I've managed right-living with the Earth. Maybe by the time I do all that, I'll even be able to afford health insurance again. I'd like that. It's been a few years since I had any, or dental, or eye. And my teeth could use a good cleaning.
But for now I wait. And hope that by the time I act, it won't be too late for the Earth and all her children to forgive me for not having acted sooner. For squandering her resources and mine-- back when I didn't realize there weren't any more resources coming to fill those now-empty mines and forest lands and bank accounts...
I hate waiting.
Eww!
Those eight days covered the first of the month-- the day I have not one but three rent checks due. Rent for my storage space. Rent for my office. Rent for my apartment. Friday was the day after thanksgiving. I had big plans to get a few of those rent payments made then-- the 30th of November. But I stayed overnight with family in another town, and had about an hour of time at home-- frantically unpacking, repacking, petting grumpy cats, feeding hungry cats, feeding hungry me, trying to get my contacts to function in my eyes, and on and on like that-- before I got back in the car and drove another two hours to my next big holiday gathering of the weekend.
The rent didn't get paid.
Monday was the first. By Sunday, I knew I was sick. I didn't leave my bed much. I think I made it downstairs for food once or twice. Oh, on Monday I did drive out to the storage unit to make that payment. It was a painful trip, but I needed another couple boxes of kleenex, so I made it happen. I had a client planned for Tuesday-- I thought I'd pay rent when I went to the office then. By Monday night, I called my clients for Tuesday AND Wednesday-- to reschedule. I was that sick.
My Thursday client called to reschedule, too. She is on meds that repress her immuno system. Neither of us wanted her to get sick. So I didn't get into the office on that day either. That night, I realized too late to call my office landlord that I never did let her know what was going on with the rent check. That it was really late now. And I felt like shit.
In the midst of that thought process, as if I thought of it because she thought of it-- she called to ask me what was going on with the rent check. I never wanted her to have to do that. And I felt shitty about not getting it to her on time. Shitty that I was relying on her goodness of heart to not charge me tons of late fees, and for it to be okay that I just was too sick to remember to pay her somehow.
So I called back, but she didn't answer. And I've left her a payment-- and called twice a day since Thursday for one reason or another. And she hasn't answered any of my calls, nor returned any of my messages. I'm being a pest, and I know it. But I made a mistake. And I feel bad. And I want her to tell me that it's okay. That things like this happen, and it isn't a big deal. I want her to forgive me so that I can forgive myself.
Intellectually, I know my landlord probably wouldn't have cashed the check by now anyway-- but we have a contract, and I broke it. I broke it enough that she had to follow up with me about it-- and I didn't follow up with her first. I left her a check on Friday-- the fifth of the month.
The worst part is that I actually tried to take care of myself on Saturday. To sleep enough to finally get well-- and I slept long enough that I totally missed going to the bank before it closed to deposit money to COVER the checks I wrote for rent. I hate being in debt. I hate being afraid of writing checks and buying food on credit. And right now, I can't even find someone to buy my car for it's actual kelly-blue-book value. I find myself praying that the auto-payment on the car loan won't come out until Tuesday-- after I've had a chance to put money I don't have in the bank.
I know the world is in recession. I know everyone around me is feeling the pinch. I saw it all coming early enough to have done something about it, too. But somehow, doing everything I could wasn't enough, or wasn't the right thing at the right time. Somehow, here I am in as big a mess as everybody else, with student loans and car loans and credit card loans and family loans to pay off, and a new business to get off the ground... and no income.
I know that part of why that payment was late is that I spent the week hoping for a miracle. Hoping for enough clients to have appointments and pay me for them that I'd have money in the bank to cover my expenses. And someday, I know I will. I love what I do, and it's important and valuable work. The clients I do have love my services and return as often as they can. It's a huge compliment. Exciting.
But as yet, it hasn't covered my bills. So I'm downsizing. Trying to clear out my storage unit. Trying to sell my car. Trying to live on what money my business DOES bring in. Daydreaming of a time when I can build my own home, and include space for renters, maybe even space to see clients there, so that all my income doesn't come from one place. So that I can start to put money away for retirement. So that my lifestyle really does support Mother Earth.
Because the home I want to build will be insulated enough to keep out summer heat and keep in winter warmth with only the help of a zero-emission masonry fireplace. A home that collects rainwater for household use, and reuses/harvests gray water in sustainable ways. A home that I feel safe sleeping in at night, and that has spaces for me to welcome friends for a visit now and then. And a root cellar to store foods away, so that I can spend my money on local farmers and in-season produce, and benefit year-round from having done so. Maybe even find time for a garden of my own. And grow my own herbs for the healing teas and tonics and ointments that I make.
Maybe then I'll finally feel like I've managed right-living with the Earth. Maybe by the time I do all that, I'll even be able to afford health insurance again. I'd like that. It's been a few years since I had any, or dental, or eye. And my teeth could use a good cleaning.
But for now I wait. And hope that by the time I act, it won't be too late for the Earth and all her children to forgive me for not having acted sooner. For squandering her resources and mine-- back when I didn't realize there weren't any more resources coming to fill those now-empty mines and forest lands and bank accounts...
I hate waiting.
Monday, September 15
Self-Offense
I'm becoming more and more aware of the ways in which women often punish and/or defend ourselves in situations where we feel we don't HAVE power or control or even basic rights.
As my business grows, I'm working with more and more women who have used food as a method of having control in their lives. They punish themselves for not being good enough by not eating. They over-eat to feel comforted and to fill an emotional void in their lives; they often become grossly overweight as a defense against rape and other sexual encounters they don't want to face.
We tell ourselves that we are not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvaceous enough, not smart enough, not accomplishing enough, not ENOUGH-- and in doing so, we limit ourselves so that nobody can do it to us. We don't want to give that power away, too. We don't want the criticism that women sometimes receive when we take risks, acknowledge our strengths and abilities, attempt change, rock the boat. There are enough critics in our lives already.
I'm learning that these patterns of behavior-- the self-criticism, and self-limiting; the over-eating and the starvation diet-- more and more, these are cropping up among men as well. And since these are "women's diseases" men often have an even harder time admitting that the problem exists, or understanding why, let alone seeking help to make positive changes and enact healthy patterns.
As a society, we cut ourselves off from feelings. From feeling too deeply, from recognizing our emotions and our reactions to our life experiences (especially the traumatic ones!). We ignore the messages our bodies try to send us in the form of felt aches, pains, and nausea. We get so caught up in trying to be smart and world-savvy that we ignore our own inner wisdom. We lose touch (if we ever found it to begin with) with our inner selves.
Sometimes we are so out of touch with our feelings that we fail to react in fight-or-flight situations; we don't get angry when we are mistreated, or we simply assume that we must have done SOMETHING to deserve the anger directed at us by another, the dismissal of our concerns and of our priorities.
And our internal criticism of our own not-enoughness becomes cruel. There is no pause to ask WHY we couldn't do 100 crunches at our twice-daily workout on Tuesday... after not eating for three days and then staying up all night to study for a class that we're taking after our 40-60-hour work week; caring for our households; caring for our families. Caring for everything but ourselves.
When is it time to care for ourselves? When do we pause and ask ourselves who has judged us-- where that criticism we are using as our measuring stick has come from... And then ask ourselves who has the right to determine our individual worth-- our individual definitions of a successful life. Most of the time, we begin by looking outside of ourselves for approval of our choices, our values, our style of dress and our sense of humor. We look outside of ourselves for clues about what we are supposed to do, who we are supposed to be, and what our reward for "getting it right" should look like. And none of it makes us very happy.
You see, until you have a good relationship with YOURSELF, until you like yourself and figure out what sort of a life would make YOU happy-- chances are, you won't be. It is a risk-- taking responsibility for our own choices and our own happiness. Back to the Cinderella Complex again, really. Hoping someone else will come along and save us from all this.
It's a risk to feel all those feelings that you've repressed or didn't even know you were having for so many years. What if they overwhelm you? Why are you suddenly getting ANGRY all the time?? Well... it's your body finally balancing out. All the emotions you ignored didn't go away-- they just got packed and compressed and repressed into this little box, and when you release the catch on the lid, it springs open and all the unfulfilled unhappy feelings come rushing out. ...But then, the box is empty. It no longer sits there oozing poison and secret shames, feeding your bodily illnesses and emotional instabilities and dependencies on people or on substances or on food-management.
There is finally space for you to learn new coping skills, to learn to recognize when you are having an emotion, and what emotion it is, and maybe even begin to recognize that there is probably a GOOD REASON for you to be having that emotion. Listening to yourself. Deciding how you want to act, now that you have all the information available to you. Befriending and trusting yourself. Accessing your inner wisdom. ...learning to love yourself as an imperfect and wonderful individual... Learning the joy of working toward a lifestyle and a decision-making process that will actually make you HAPPY!! Happy to be alive. Happy to be here, and do that, with people who appreciate you for YOU, and who share similar aspirations and a similar respect for you that you are learning to have yourself.
...If you don't learn to respect and love yourself-- to feel that your needs and your goals and your values and your decisions are important... nobody else will either. Make a different choice. And remember that even if the people you love and currently interact with don't support your goal of finding and appreciating yourself... someone else will. You are worth waiting for, worth searching for, worth working to find. Worth listening to. But this time, you get to do the waiting, working, listening and searching for yourself. It is deliciously empowering to put your energy and efforts to work in pursuit of your OWN GOALS-- and very few of the women I know have ever done this consciously. Intentionally.
Live intentionally. Live joyfully. Live your own life.
Dance on top of the world.
Please.
As my business grows, I'm working with more and more women who have used food as a method of having control in their lives. They punish themselves for not being good enough by not eating. They over-eat to feel comforted and to fill an emotional void in their lives; they often become grossly overweight as a defense against rape and other sexual encounters they don't want to face.
We tell ourselves that we are not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvaceous enough, not smart enough, not accomplishing enough, not ENOUGH-- and in doing so, we limit ourselves so that nobody can do it to us. We don't want to give that power away, too. We don't want the criticism that women sometimes receive when we take risks, acknowledge our strengths and abilities, attempt change, rock the boat. There are enough critics in our lives already.
I'm learning that these patterns of behavior-- the self-criticism, and self-limiting; the over-eating and the starvation diet-- more and more, these are cropping up among men as well. And since these are "women's diseases" men often have an even harder time admitting that the problem exists, or understanding why, let alone seeking help to make positive changes and enact healthy patterns.
As a society, we cut ourselves off from feelings. From feeling too deeply, from recognizing our emotions and our reactions to our life experiences (especially the traumatic ones!). We ignore the messages our bodies try to send us in the form of felt aches, pains, and nausea. We get so caught up in trying to be smart and world-savvy that we ignore our own inner wisdom. We lose touch (if we ever found it to begin with) with our inner selves.
Sometimes we are so out of touch with our feelings that we fail to react in fight-or-flight situations; we don't get angry when we are mistreated, or we simply assume that we must have done SOMETHING to deserve the anger directed at us by another, the dismissal of our concerns and of our priorities.
And our internal criticism of our own not-enoughness becomes cruel. There is no pause to ask WHY we couldn't do 100 crunches at our twice-daily workout on Tuesday... after not eating for three days and then staying up all night to study for a class that we're taking after our 40-60-hour work week; caring for our households; caring for our families. Caring for everything but ourselves.
When is it time to care for ourselves? When do we pause and ask ourselves who has judged us-- where that criticism we are using as our measuring stick has come from... And then ask ourselves who has the right to determine our individual worth-- our individual definitions of a successful life. Most of the time, we begin by looking outside of ourselves for approval of our choices, our values, our style of dress and our sense of humor. We look outside of ourselves for clues about what we are supposed to do, who we are supposed to be, and what our reward for "getting it right" should look like. And none of it makes us very happy.
You see, until you have a good relationship with YOURSELF, until you like yourself and figure out what sort of a life would make YOU happy-- chances are, you won't be. It is a risk-- taking responsibility for our own choices and our own happiness. Back to the Cinderella Complex again, really. Hoping someone else will come along and save us from all this.
It's a risk to feel all those feelings that you've repressed or didn't even know you were having for so many years. What if they overwhelm you? Why are you suddenly getting ANGRY all the time?? Well... it's your body finally balancing out. All the emotions you ignored didn't go away-- they just got packed and compressed and repressed into this little box, and when you release the catch on the lid, it springs open and all the unfulfilled unhappy feelings come rushing out. ...But then, the box is empty. It no longer sits there oozing poison and secret shames, feeding your bodily illnesses and emotional instabilities and dependencies on people or on substances or on food-management.
There is finally space for you to learn new coping skills, to learn to recognize when you are having an emotion, and what emotion it is, and maybe even begin to recognize that there is probably a GOOD REASON for you to be having that emotion. Listening to yourself. Deciding how you want to act, now that you have all the information available to you. Befriending and trusting yourself. Accessing your inner wisdom. ...learning to love yourself as an imperfect and wonderful individual... Learning the joy of working toward a lifestyle and a decision-making process that will actually make you HAPPY!! Happy to be alive. Happy to be here, and do that, with people who appreciate you for YOU, and who share similar aspirations and a similar respect for you that you are learning to have yourself.
...If you don't learn to respect and love yourself-- to feel that your needs and your goals and your values and your decisions are important... nobody else will either. Make a different choice. And remember that even if the people you love and currently interact with don't support your goal of finding and appreciating yourself... someone else will. You are worth waiting for, worth searching for, worth working to find. Worth listening to. But this time, you get to do the waiting, working, listening and searching for yourself. It is deliciously empowering to put your energy and efforts to work in pursuit of your OWN GOALS-- and very few of the women I know have ever done this consciously. Intentionally.
Live intentionally. Live joyfully. Live your own life.
Dance on top of the world.
Please.
Wednesday, August 6
Travel Guide
I'm told that the Answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42. And that it'll take another million years to figure out what the Question actually was. And that first book really did have some great advice for travelers. A towel really is a comforting thing to have along-- and it can be put to any number of important uses. A good towel is worth a lot of money, and the time it takes you to pack and repack until it fits into your suitcase is always well-spent, according to the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
It gives you a tangible reminder of home. It can be used to dry off, shade from the heat, wrap up from the cold, sit on, sit under, thwhack annoying teens with, brush off dirt and sand, clean your hands of any number of other undesirable substances, make you look like you know what you're doing and where you're going, etc etc etc...
But that's just not the kind of travel I'm doing. And while I'd really like to feel comfortable, well-grounded, prepared, and at home during this particular stretch of my personal journey... somehow I don't think a towel is going to cut it. I think really what I need is a compass, and a better job market. And maybe just a little more self-confidence and courage as well.
Especially if I'm really going to make Life Coaching into a full-time profession. Because my clientelle in THAT sector continues to grow little by little... and because I continue to look forward to interviewing for positions as a librarian, and even getting HIRED to WORK as a librarian... but it hasn't happened yet. It's been many months since I even had an interview in that arena.
So... what do I need to do to grow into a self-sustaining business model for life coaching? well, I need to identify the markets I want to pursue. I need to find a space to hold sessions. I need to write up a business plan, including scripting for difficult situations, for self-marketing, and so on. I need to settle on AND MAINTAIN a system for retaining data about my business finances, data about my clients, data of contact info, data for my network as it grows, data about where and how and how much I promote my services... and data about how the clients I do see find me. I need to post more regularly to my "self-help" blog-- and tell my clients about it. I need to print out a HELL of a lot more business cards and informational pamphlets, too, and join some groups where I'm the only (or the first, or SOMETHING) personal life coach in the group... And I need to locate my coaching resources and make them available to my practice-- get them out of those darn storage boxes and bins and piles on the other side of town.
Mostly, I need to clean up my personal space, and get some sort of healthy schedule to my life so that when opportunity DOES knock-- in whatever form it takes-- I'm ready. I intend to come from (and return to) a place that is clean, that is friendly and inviting, that is somewhat organized, and that I can be proud to say represents me and how I exist in the world. And that goes for both my physical home and my mental/spiritual space as well. I want to see my best self so that I can dwell on that, and put my best foot forward into the world for others to see.
Nobody prepares you for this stuff, growing up. Nobody tells you that it's probably going to be a while before you really get to where you want to be. That whatever it is you just spent a whole lot of time training for, and went into serious debt to become, is probably NOT what you'll actually get to DO in your lifetime. Nobody teaches you healthy ways to cope with and overcome all the daily and extreme situational stress that is part of an adult's decision-making process. And nobody explains WHY a sense of humor and a positive outlook are so important to finding personal happiness and success.
As my bff SLM recently said, THIS ISN'T COVERED IN THE MANUAL!!! It's true that as you get to be an adult, you gain access to a much wider variety of choices. But it's also true that the repercussions of those choices also become much bigger... and that often the choices we have in a given situation are not the ones we expect-- or even want. Hmmm... I COULD spend my free afternoon doing yardwork in the middle of a 100* heat wave... or I could stay inside where it's cool, drinking ice tea and catching up on the last three months of business news and new tech tools for my profession-- and risk getting a fine and a notice from the local HOA. Or I could just say "freck it all!" and risk both being obsolete and work AND getting into trouble at home-- to go spend the afternoon hiking around cool and beautiful waterfalls with a good friend I haven't seen in months. Hmmm...
Maybe 42 is how old you have to be for all the pieces of your life to finally start fitting together. I wouldn't know. I'm about to turn 3o. And while I have figured out what sorts of things I want to do with my life, and how I personally define "Abundance," and how a budget works, and what it means to take personal responsibility for my choices and actions... I haven't figured out how to fit all of those things together into Abundant Living-- and I'm still searching for that first job on the road to my professional career. I am still searching for financial independence.
I've just started my first Yoga class. Sure, I occasionally went to yoga with my mom, but those are HER yoga classes, and I usually ended up overdoing and being in pain and not going back. This is my first Yoga class for and about me. It's an opportunity to work on my flexibility and muscle tone, to work on my physical health and my mental focus, my balance, my range of motion, etc etc... but it's also an opportunity for me to work on grounding and centering myself. I would dearly like to feel more grounded and centered. And I know yoga will help me with that so far as mental discipline goes. ...But it has also clarified for me that being grounded in my life is yet another animal, and one that I've made great leaps of progress toward, without yet reaching. This is not a good time to be unemployed.
It gives you a tangible reminder of home. It can be used to dry off, shade from the heat, wrap up from the cold, sit on, sit under, thwhack annoying teens with, brush off dirt and sand, clean your hands of any number of other undesirable substances, make you look like you know what you're doing and where you're going, etc etc etc...
But that's just not the kind of travel I'm doing. And while I'd really like to feel comfortable, well-grounded, prepared, and at home during this particular stretch of my personal journey... somehow I don't think a towel is going to cut it. I think really what I need is a compass, and a better job market. And maybe just a little more self-confidence and courage as well.
Especially if I'm really going to make Life Coaching into a full-time profession. Because my clientelle in THAT sector continues to grow little by little... and because I continue to look forward to interviewing for positions as a librarian, and even getting HIRED to WORK as a librarian... but it hasn't happened yet. It's been many months since I even had an interview in that arena.
So... what do I need to do to grow into a self-sustaining business model for life coaching? well, I need to identify the markets I want to pursue. I need to find a space to hold sessions. I need to write up a business plan, including scripting for difficult situations, for self-marketing, and so on. I need to settle on AND MAINTAIN a system for retaining data about my business finances, data about my clients, data of contact info, data for my network as it grows, data about where and how and how much I promote my services... and data about how the clients I do see find me. I need to post more regularly to my "self-help" blog-- and tell my clients about it. I need to print out a HELL of a lot more business cards and informational pamphlets, too, and join some groups where I'm the only (or the first, or SOMETHING) personal life coach in the group... And I need to locate my coaching resources and make them available to my practice-- get them out of those darn storage boxes and bins and piles on the other side of town.
Mostly, I need to clean up my personal space, and get some sort of healthy schedule to my life so that when opportunity DOES knock-- in whatever form it takes-- I'm ready. I intend to come from (and return to) a place that is clean, that is friendly and inviting, that is somewhat organized, and that I can be proud to say represents me and how I exist in the world. And that goes for both my physical home and my mental/spiritual space as well. I want to see my best self so that I can dwell on that, and put my best foot forward into the world for others to see.
Nobody prepares you for this stuff, growing up. Nobody tells you that it's probably going to be a while before you really get to where you want to be. That whatever it is you just spent a whole lot of time training for, and went into serious debt to become, is probably NOT what you'll actually get to DO in your lifetime. Nobody teaches you healthy ways to cope with and overcome all the daily and extreme situational stress that is part of an adult's decision-making process. And nobody explains WHY a sense of humor and a positive outlook are so important to finding personal happiness and success.
As my bff SLM recently said, THIS ISN'T COVERED IN THE MANUAL!!! It's true that as you get to be an adult, you gain access to a much wider variety of choices. But it's also true that the repercussions of those choices also become much bigger... and that often the choices we have in a given situation are not the ones we expect-- or even want. Hmmm... I COULD spend my free afternoon doing yardwork in the middle of a 100* heat wave... or I could stay inside where it's cool, drinking ice tea and catching up on the last three months of business news and new tech tools for my profession-- and risk getting a fine and a notice from the local HOA. Or I could just say "freck it all!" and risk both being obsolete and work AND getting into trouble at home-- to go spend the afternoon hiking around cool and beautiful waterfalls with a good friend I haven't seen in months. Hmmm...
Maybe 42 is how old you have to be for all the pieces of your life to finally start fitting together. I wouldn't know. I'm about to turn 3o. And while I have figured out what sorts of things I want to do with my life, and how I personally define "Abundance," and how a budget works, and what it means to take personal responsibility for my choices and actions... I haven't figured out how to fit all of those things together into Abundant Living-- and I'm still searching for that first job on the road to my professional career. I am still searching for financial independence.
I've just started my first Yoga class. Sure, I occasionally went to yoga with my mom, but those are HER yoga classes, and I usually ended up overdoing and being in pain and not going back. This is my first Yoga class for and about me. It's an opportunity to work on my flexibility and muscle tone, to work on my physical health and my mental focus, my balance, my range of motion, etc etc... but it's also an opportunity for me to work on grounding and centering myself. I would dearly like to feel more grounded and centered. And I know yoga will help me with that so far as mental discipline goes. ...But it has also clarified for me that being grounded in my life is yet another animal, and one that I've made great leaps of progress toward, without yet reaching. This is not a good time to be unemployed.
Friday, July 25
Acting Up
Fridays are good. And with such a positive start to them, I sometimes plan to do unpleasant things on Fridays, just because there's a greater chance of actually DOING them that way...
Today, my plan is to actually attack the growing amorphous blob of CRAP in the middle of my room. There's a sewing machine, several unfinished projects, the latest pile of "to shred" documents, some receipts I really would have liked to locate last week, a random shower curtain (no, I don't know why either), and well... STUFF.
So I planned a whole three hours of my day for getting around to fixing the pile, or at least dissecting it a bit. I've got an hour left, and I haven't started yet. This is not a good sign. ...maybe tomorrow would be an even BETTER day to tackle it... after all-- tomorrow is Saturday... hmm. O the horror of it all! The problem is that even once I know what's IN the pile, I'm not sure I'll actually have a better place to keep it. I miss my extra-tall bed frame at times like these. The WHOLE PILE would have fit under it with room to spare.
Unfortunately, that (along with all my summer clothes) is buried somewhere in my storage unit. Fortunately, this may actually force me to sort, label, and redistribute everything from the pile in an orderly and productive manner. Man, who knew "dissecting" had TWO 's's in it!!
The good news is that I've been so anti about this project that I've managed to get any number of OTHER projects that I'd previously been avoiding done. I cleared out, cleaned out, and redistributed my house mate's junk drawer in the kitchen. I still don't know what all the reddish-brown powder was all over the bottom layer of junk. I sorted and cleaned and put away this huge box of spices she bought at an estate sale. I would KISS the woman who put the purchase date of each spice on the labels if I knew where she was. Everything older than two years got thrown out-- because I know PC won't throw any of them out ever, and I want her to at least START with a quality spice collection. ... Anyway, a lot of projects got crossed off the list.
And with half an hour to go, I think it's time to get busy with THIS project. Really. ...I guess I should have called this post "cleaning up my act... sort of." Meh.
Today, my plan is to actually attack the growing amorphous blob of CRAP in the middle of my room. There's a sewing machine, several unfinished projects, the latest pile of "to shred" documents, some receipts I really would have liked to locate last week, a random shower curtain (no, I don't know why either), and well... STUFF.
So I planned a whole three hours of my day for getting around to fixing the pile, or at least dissecting it a bit. I've got an hour left, and I haven't started yet. This is not a good sign. ...maybe tomorrow would be an even BETTER day to tackle it... after all-- tomorrow is Saturday... hmm. O the horror of it all! The problem is that even once I know what's IN the pile, I'm not sure I'll actually have a better place to keep it. I miss my extra-tall bed frame at times like these. The WHOLE PILE would have fit under it with room to spare.
Unfortunately, that (along with all my summer clothes) is buried somewhere in my storage unit. Fortunately, this may actually force me to sort, label, and redistribute everything from the pile in an orderly and productive manner. Man, who knew "dissecting" had TWO 's's in it!!
The good news is that I've been so anti about this project that I've managed to get any number of OTHER projects that I'd previously been avoiding done. I cleared out, cleaned out, and redistributed my house mate's junk drawer in the kitchen. I still don't know what all the reddish-brown powder was all over the bottom layer of junk. I sorted and cleaned and put away this huge box of spices she bought at an estate sale. I would KISS the woman who put the purchase date of each spice on the labels if I knew where she was. Everything older than two years got thrown out-- because I know PC won't throw any of them out ever, and I want her to at least START with a quality spice collection. ... Anyway, a lot of projects got crossed off the list.
And with half an hour to go, I think it's time to get busy with THIS project. Really. ...I guess I should have called this post "cleaning up my act... sort of." Meh.
Monday, July 21
The Scary Part...
I think I went on a date. Now what???
This guy is intelligent, self-sufficient, capable, stable, easy-going, and also knows what he wants and what he thinks. He's mature, and he's sturdy, and he's thoughtful and caring-- especially toward his family and his community, and he doesn't seem to worry about what anybody else thinks, and seems to have his life pretty well planned out. What on earth would I bring to his life that he doesn't already have? Would there be room for me and my goals and my way of living? And... could I maintain my own newly and hard-won self-awareness and personal opinions and sense of purpose in the world if I ended up in a serious relationship with him? Would I stop being silly around the edges so that I'd appear mature and sturdy, too? Standing on one foot isn't very sturdy, and the Christmas carols aren't always sung in tune... but it's who I am, and I really like me.
It's part of a larger concern. The last vestiges of my fear of fugcking up at dating like I did at marrying, and of not finding someone who actually IS all those things I THINK he is; mixed with this irrational fear that I'm not enough for a guy like this.
I just have to let actions speak, and listen when they do. I have to give myself (and him) TIME. And ask frank questions if/when I want more transparent communication between us. That's a challenge all by itself, but it's important to me.
Without good, solid, honest, and timely communication... there isn't really anything else.
My job is to make sure I stay in touch with myself and my needs, and that I clearly communicate my needs and my questions to whomever I am with. I'm getting better at this, but I've got some learning left to do. All that is about me. It would be the same with any guy... And this guy seems to be really great. Really Great. In some ways, it'd be easier if his baggage was as transparent to me as mine is...
And... When I stop to think about who I am and what I have to offer a friend or a partner... it's actually pretty impressive. I'm caring, considerate (usually), and I pursue open and honest communication. I invite opportunity for consensus. I'm intelligent. I have plans for a career, and I enjoy being productive. I'm sometimes funny (it helps if you get my jokes). I've got a lot of skills, and I'm willing to try new things and lend a hand when I do know what I'm doing.
I'm artistic, and handy, and creative, and a good problem-solver (usually-- there was that time when I forgot that I didn't need an internet connection to transport information from one computer to another...). I take healthy risks, and I'm constantly working to improve myself as a person and a community-member. I'm genuine. I'm good with animals and children and... just about everybody else, too.
I steal the covers, but I give them back. I'm not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I cook excellent one-pot meals. I buy organic, and I like french fries. I'm a skilled writer and information-finder. I know how to use the spell-checker. I'm loyal. I'm flexible so long as SOMEONE has a plan. I don't get angry easily (though I get frustrated with myself more easily than I'd like)... I can laugh at myself, and I love to cuddle. I give a good massage, and I can be very sensual in a safe and committed situation. People seem to think I'm good company, and I'm pretty good at expressing my opinions when I have them. I really see people for who they are inside, when given a window in.
I mean, really, that's a lot to offer in the dating world...
and-- apparently-- I'm perky, too. So There.
It occurs to me... I need to start a list of questions we all want to ask, but often don't know how (or don't have the courage to ask) in dating situations! According to a girlfriend of mine who's done a lot of dating recently, the rules now are... THERE ARE NO RULES. Dating is what you want it to be. Huh. I'm really not sure how to interact with that. I want conflicting things. It's hard to take big risks when what I really want is not to get hurt. I don't want any more hurt in my life right now. I've had enough to last two lifetimes. I also want to see if there IS a good life-partner out there for me, and that involves taking some emotional risks.
So I wonder... is it simply time to focus on enjoying today, and let the future take care of itself? Ironically, the very next thing that comes to mind is a question: ...and where will that lead if I do?? How scary is that!
This guy is intelligent, self-sufficient, capable, stable, easy-going, and also knows what he wants and what he thinks. He's mature, and he's sturdy, and he's thoughtful and caring-- especially toward his family and his community, and he doesn't seem to worry about what anybody else thinks, and seems to have his life pretty well planned out. What on earth would I bring to his life that he doesn't already have? Would there be room for me and my goals and my way of living? And... could I maintain my own newly and hard-won self-awareness and personal opinions and sense of purpose in the world if I ended up in a serious relationship with him? Would I stop being silly around the edges so that I'd appear mature and sturdy, too? Standing on one foot isn't very sturdy, and the Christmas carols aren't always sung in tune... but it's who I am, and I really like me.
It's part of a larger concern. The last vestiges of my fear of fugcking up at dating like I did at marrying, and of not finding someone who actually IS all those things I THINK he is; mixed with this irrational fear that I'm not enough for a guy like this.
I just have to let actions speak, and listen when they do. I have to give myself (and him) TIME. And ask frank questions if/when I want more transparent communication between us. That's a challenge all by itself, but it's important to me.
Without good, solid, honest, and timely communication... there isn't really anything else.
My job is to make sure I stay in touch with myself and my needs, and that I clearly communicate my needs and my questions to whomever I am with. I'm getting better at this, but I've got some learning left to do. All that is about me. It would be the same with any guy... And this guy seems to be really great. Really Great. In some ways, it'd be easier if his baggage was as transparent to me as mine is...
And... When I stop to think about who I am and what I have to offer a friend or a partner... it's actually pretty impressive. I'm caring, considerate (usually), and I pursue open and honest communication. I invite opportunity for consensus. I'm intelligent. I have plans for a career, and I enjoy being productive. I'm sometimes funny (it helps if you get my jokes). I've got a lot of skills, and I'm willing to try new things and lend a hand when I do know what I'm doing.
I'm artistic, and handy, and creative, and a good problem-solver (usually-- there was that time when I forgot that I didn't need an internet connection to transport information from one computer to another...). I take healthy risks, and I'm constantly working to improve myself as a person and a community-member. I'm genuine. I'm good with animals and children and... just about everybody else, too.
I steal the covers, but I give them back. I'm not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I cook excellent one-pot meals. I buy organic, and I like french fries. I'm a skilled writer and information-finder. I know how to use the spell-checker. I'm loyal. I'm flexible so long as SOMEONE has a plan. I don't get angry easily (though I get frustrated with myself more easily than I'd like)... I can laugh at myself, and I love to cuddle. I give a good massage, and I can be very sensual in a safe and committed situation. People seem to think I'm good company, and I'm pretty good at expressing my opinions when I have them. I really see people for who they are inside, when given a window in.
I mean, really, that's a lot to offer in the dating world...
and-- apparently-- I'm perky, too. So There.
It occurs to me... I need to start a list of questions we all want to ask, but often don't know how (or don't have the courage to ask) in dating situations! According to a girlfriend of mine who's done a lot of dating recently, the rules now are... THERE ARE NO RULES. Dating is what you want it to be. Huh. I'm really not sure how to interact with that. I want conflicting things. It's hard to take big risks when what I really want is not to get hurt. I don't want any more hurt in my life right now. I've had enough to last two lifetimes. I also want to see if there IS a good life-partner out there for me, and that involves taking some emotional risks.
So I wonder... is it simply time to focus on enjoying today, and let the future take care of itself? Ironically, the very next thing that comes to mind is a question: ...and where will that lead if I do?? How scary is that!
Tuesday, July 15
Chaos, and the Rules that Cause It:
I have been walking around with a list in my head. Well, okay-- I walk around with a LOT of lists in my head... but THIS ONE was the list of "how it's supposed to be." You'd think I'd have learned my lesson about demanding that the universe conform to my plans, but no.
I once thought that happiness was caused by doing what you're "supposed to do." So I went to college, and then I got married, and I had a job, and we bought a house, ... and I wasn't really very happy most of the time.
When I refused to be a part of that train wreck any longer, and started over with the "go to college" bit, I realized that there isn't really a tangible recipe for happiness. There isn't a check-list to success. Not in the way you check off the steps of a home renovation, for example.
Then, I created a new plan. I'd get my new degree, and that would lead to my new career. Once I had a new career, I could finally pay off my debts and have health care, thus leading to a healthy healed body, and building a solid foundation for me to finally start looking for new relationships. And all of this would have to happen "somewhere else." Somewhere with no old patterns to contend with as I fought to create new and healthy ways of being.
It's only been in the past month that I finally realized that maybe, even if I wasn't getting that career job in library world, maybe I COULD be working on other goals. And then things started to fall into place. Serendipity, I think it's called.
I found an awesome house-mate. I moved into her house, and felt at home. She introduced me to a friend of hers who gives great massage (for free, until he gains his certification), and happens to also be a very wellness-oriented Yoga Master. And I called up my Uncle Rod's Acupuncturist, and discovered that she would do a straight trade with me-- one of my skills in exchange for one of hers. So, for no money, I suddenly find my body healing. I even played three consecutive rounds of a great bean-bag-toss game called "Corn Hole." I swear, it's true. There's a whole league of semi-serious players here-- and there are official rules, and everything! I played this game with only some temporary discomfort in my shoulder, where I'd once have been in agony for days after. This is an improvement I'd like to facilitate! It's EXCITING!!!
Now, I'm meeting other great people, and I've also developed a supportive and growing friendship with someone I knew in high school. Not the boy-- it's been three weeks since I last heard from him. I'm not holding my breath. And it's okay. I feel no personal insult or loss from it, though I still think he'd have made an interesting and appealing friend. No, this one is my friend, DS. She's personally funding and creating a really amazing non-profit that supports the cultural historians and artists in Guinea, in Africa. Her dedication, knowledge, and the need for her work are just amazing.
Oddly enough, my Personal & Professional Life Coaching business has picked up, too. Out of rather humid summer air have appeared five paying clients. WOW!!! I look forward to more as the year progresses.
And suddenly, I realize: Here I am. My body is healing, and I'm growing a great community of friends. I have a wonderful place to live, and the beginnings of a career (even if it stays part-time for a while) I love. I've started to incorporate healthy new patterns to my life, and I've done it all RIGHT HERE. So, I've started looking around for a job that might let me stay local for a while longer. And there is one. Don't know if I'll get it, but I plan to do everything in my power to promote that possibility. I'd be doing research, and collection development for a vendor who works with academic libraries. My two favorite aspects of being a librarian-- combined-- and I'd get to do them for more than one library at once. Talk about service opportunities!!
On top of all that, I just met someone wonderful. I don't know if we'll be friends or if there'll be more to it than that... but I'm definitely looking forward to getting to know this man better. He's mature, and thoughtful, and I really enjoyed talking/listening with him, and he has two cats-- who he spoils rotten. It's a good start.
It's so exciting for life to feel good right now!
I once thought that happiness was caused by doing what you're "supposed to do." So I went to college, and then I got married, and I had a job, and we bought a house, ... and I wasn't really very happy most of the time.
When I refused to be a part of that train wreck any longer, and started over with the "go to college" bit, I realized that there isn't really a tangible recipe for happiness. There isn't a check-list to success. Not in the way you check off the steps of a home renovation, for example.
Then, I created a new plan. I'd get my new degree, and that would lead to my new career. Once I had a new career, I could finally pay off my debts and have health care, thus leading to a healthy healed body, and building a solid foundation for me to finally start looking for new relationships. And all of this would have to happen "somewhere else." Somewhere with no old patterns to contend with as I fought to create new and healthy ways of being.
It's only been in the past month that I finally realized that maybe, even if I wasn't getting that career job in library world, maybe I COULD be working on other goals. And then things started to fall into place. Serendipity, I think it's called.
I found an awesome house-mate. I moved into her house, and felt at home. She introduced me to a friend of hers who gives great massage (for free, until he gains his certification), and happens to also be a very wellness-oriented Yoga Master. And I called up my Uncle Rod's Acupuncturist, and discovered that she would do a straight trade with me-- one of my skills in exchange for one of hers. So, for no money, I suddenly find my body healing. I even played three consecutive rounds of a great bean-bag-toss game called "Corn Hole." I swear, it's true. There's a whole league of semi-serious players here-- and there are official rules, and everything! I played this game with only some temporary discomfort in my shoulder, where I'd once have been in agony for days after. This is an improvement I'd like to facilitate! It's EXCITING!!!
Now, I'm meeting other great people, and I've also developed a supportive and growing friendship with someone I knew in high school. Not the boy-- it's been three weeks since I last heard from him. I'm not holding my breath. And it's okay. I feel no personal insult or loss from it, though I still think he'd have made an interesting and appealing friend. No, this one is my friend, DS. She's personally funding and creating a really amazing non-profit that supports the cultural historians and artists in Guinea, in Africa. Her dedication, knowledge, and the need for her work are just amazing.
Oddly enough, my Personal & Professional Life Coaching business has picked up, too. Out of rather humid summer air have appeared five paying clients. WOW!!! I look forward to more as the year progresses.
And suddenly, I realize: Here I am. My body is healing, and I'm growing a great community of friends. I have a wonderful place to live, and the beginnings of a career (even if it stays part-time for a while) I love. I've started to incorporate healthy new patterns to my life, and I've done it all RIGHT HERE. So, I've started looking around for a job that might let me stay local for a while longer. And there is one. Don't know if I'll get it, but I plan to do everything in my power to promote that possibility. I'd be doing research, and collection development for a vendor who works with academic libraries. My two favorite aspects of being a librarian-- combined-- and I'd get to do them for more than one library at once. Talk about service opportunities!!
On top of all that, I just met someone wonderful. I don't know if we'll be friends or if there'll be more to it than that... but I'm definitely looking forward to getting to know this man better. He's mature, and thoughtful, and I really enjoyed talking/listening with him, and he has two cats-- who he spoils rotten. It's a good start.
It's so exciting for life to feel good right now!
Tuesday, May 27
Finding Time
This is actually a post about Yoga. Maybe I'm just talking about how hard it is to take time out of my day for me... and how I connect that with being female in this time and place. Maybe it's something else all together. As I wrote it, the post just kept getting longer and longer... I think I'm worried that I didn't share this lesson well enough, or that I'm talking to people who only exist in my head... I'm worried that I will sound pitiful, or worse-- preachy... I sometimes think that we, as women, often have too hard a time recognizing our own wisdom and our own worth... So I'm not going to cut this one down to a more manageable size. I think it's important. Whatever it is.
See, there's this list of "someday" goals in my head. The ones I never do find time to commit to-- ones that don't put food on the table, a roof over my head, and don't benefit anyone but me. This is where I keep my desires like spending a whole week at a bed-and-breakfast on the beach, instead of using my vacation time and money on a trip to Michigan with my family every year... The list that has my wish to learn how to make bread-- good old hearty nutty flavorful bread. My desire for a gym membership ended up on this list, too. With a limited income, a weekly lunch with the people I love is just more important, for the price. And I still haven't found energy or supplies to build that Navajo Loom I want to play with-- nor research what kind of string I'd need to warp it with. Come to think of it-- when would I have time?
I'm not willing to give up my sleep-- the whole "get up 30 minutes earlier" plan just sounds like a way to substitute one healthy thing for another when I hear it. Less sleep, but more exercise... is that really helping me? Or less sleep but more time to write, more time to meditate, more time for a walk every day, more time to fix a healthy lunch before I go to work-- Suddenly I wonder if I shouldn't just be staying up all night to find the extra time I want for ALL the things I want to enjoy in my day!
So I'm not going to give up sleep to improve my life. That's an oxymoron waiting to happen. But I do want to include more good stuff in the time that I'm awake (and fewer morons). Maybe I don't need as much time checking email before I start my day. Maybe I don't need as much time watching movies to unwind at night before bed. Maybe I need to start out slowly. Maybe I already have.
I found a book on Yoga-- it has a 5-minute routine in it. And once I made time for five minutes of yoga in my morning prep... it wasn't so hard to move up to the 15-minute version the book also offers. Heck! I might eventually work my way up to the 90-minute yoga routine the book includes before the year is gone! And I found a book called Gardener's Yoga, by Veronica D'Orazio (Sasquatch Books, 2006). I'm actually giving this one to my mom for her birthday. I think it will suit her, so don't you go telling her about it first!
The book is split into three sections. The first section is a preparation for working the earth, and coincidentally contains about ten minutes of "getting started" Yoga poses. The second section is another ten minutes of Yoga, this time geared toward stretching out the kinks that come from all that weeding and squatting down. The last ten minute section is for the end of the day, to help your body relax after hard work. I love how well the poses flow into one another, and I love how well they are integrated into the seasons and the phases of the garden.
I've realized that the hard part about taking care of me has always been getting started. I've had trouble committing myself to spending large chunks of my time doing selfish things. And in my head, I thought of the things I want to do just for me-- like Yoga and writing and meditating and weaving... I've thought of them as a selfish way to spend my time. But on the days I do them, I'm a better worker at my day job, and I grow stronger as a person. I feel healthy, and I have more patience with the world. So for now, I may only spend ten minutes doing Yoga in the morning, but I'm learning to feel good about that. I see it as a foundation for more good things to grow from. I'm learning that taking good care of me has a good impact on the people around me, too. It's not wrong to love and care for myself. In fact, nobody else can do it better.
Maybe I didn't have to find the time so much as I had to convince myself that I am worth spending quality time on. ...And that I don't have to start doing it all at once. I certainly didn't learn that one from my mother, or my ex. In fact, most women I know have a very hard time (there's that word again!!) doing things for themselves in a consistent way, or having the things they do accepted by their partners as worth the time. There's always something more important they could be doing. But here's the challenge-- if YOU don't think you're important (if you don't think your NEEDS are important), nobody else will either. And that is wrong. You are important. Worth doing good things for.
I don't mean the extra chocolate bar when you've had a bad day... (well, not JUST that!) I mean that 20 minutes of uninterrupted meditation in a quiet room every night so you can sleep comfortably. I mean that hour on the phone with your family or your best friend who moved away five years ago-- every weekend, without trying to multi-task while you talk. I mean the five minutes you spend standing still to enjoy the beauty of a tree, and just BREATHE for a minute, as you rush between buildings, meetings, and soccer practice every afternoon. I mean that 10 minutes I'm spending on my Yoga every morning before work, and the effort it takes to keep a clean spot on the floor big enough to do it in. I mean refusing to stay up that extra half an hour at night to get everyone else ready for the next day-- while they sleep.
Somehow, we've learned that the job must be done right, and we're the only ones who can do the job that way. Somehow, we've agreed to take on the responsibility for the success or failure of every dream our family (even our society) has-- without including our dreams on the list. We take the leftovers. We take the hand-me-down computer. We don't ask for someone to do their share of the chores-- we ask them to help us out a little with the chores we do. We make the kids' lunch and work a 60 hour week. We scrimp and save our pennies so someone else can have their heart's desire. Someone who already spent their pennies on something frivolous and fun.
I don't mean to dishonor our sacrifices, and I know this isn't everyone's reality. I actually hold a great respect for the importance of compassion, of love. But that's just it. Compassion, Love, long-term planning, Sharing and Giving are IMPORTANT, and WORTHY OF RESPECT. And another thing I've learned-- from my own life and from watching those I love-- is that if we continue to give and give without ever replenishing ourselves, we burn out, and we eventually have nothing left to give to anyone.
So-- please-- make a difference in your own quality of life, long-term. Like ten minutes of Yoga before breakfast, or ten minutes of solitude before bed. Now that I've learned how to find the time, I am determined not to lose it again. I want to enjoy my life. I want to experience abundance so that I can share it whole-heartedly, without running dry. I want to honor the Goddess by honoring myself, and the women around me. I'm worth it. She's worth it. You're worth it. Slow down, and give yourself time to recharge.
I want to be my best self in this lifetime, and that means loving myself just as much as I love everyone else. That means it's okay to put my own needs first. To ensure that I have the strength and endurance to be there when others need me. It's okay to teach by my example that compassion and respect belong to everyone, not just an exclusive few who feel they have the right to receive it.
So... What will you find time for today?... what about tomorrow?
See, there's this list of "someday" goals in my head. The ones I never do find time to commit to-- ones that don't put food on the table, a roof over my head, and don't benefit anyone but me. This is where I keep my desires like spending a whole week at a bed-and-breakfast on the beach, instead of using my vacation time and money on a trip to Michigan with my family every year... The list that has my wish to learn how to make bread-- good old hearty nutty flavorful bread. My desire for a gym membership ended up on this list, too. With a limited income, a weekly lunch with the people I love is just more important, for the price. And I still haven't found energy or supplies to build that Navajo Loom I want to play with-- nor research what kind of string I'd need to warp it with. Come to think of it-- when would I have time?
I'm not willing to give up my sleep-- the whole "get up 30 minutes earlier" plan just sounds like a way to substitute one healthy thing for another when I hear it. Less sleep, but more exercise... is that really helping me? Or less sleep but more time to write, more time to meditate, more time for a walk every day, more time to fix a healthy lunch before I go to work-- Suddenly I wonder if I shouldn't just be staying up all night to find the extra time I want for ALL the things I want to enjoy in my day!
So I'm not going to give up sleep to improve my life. That's an oxymoron waiting to happen. But I do want to include more good stuff in the time that I'm awake (and fewer morons). Maybe I don't need as much time checking email before I start my day. Maybe I don't need as much time watching movies to unwind at night before bed. Maybe I need to start out slowly. Maybe I already have.
I found a book on Yoga-- it has a 5-minute routine in it. And once I made time for five minutes of yoga in my morning prep... it wasn't so hard to move up to the 15-minute version the book also offers. Heck! I might eventually work my way up to the 90-minute yoga routine the book includes before the year is gone! And I found a book called Gardener's Yoga, by Veronica D'Orazio (Sasquatch Books, 2006). I'm actually giving this one to my mom for her birthday. I think it will suit her, so don't you go telling her about it first!
The book is split into three sections. The first section is a preparation for working the earth, and coincidentally contains about ten minutes of "getting started" Yoga poses. The second section is another ten minutes of Yoga, this time geared toward stretching out the kinks that come from all that weeding and squatting down. The last ten minute section is for the end of the day, to help your body relax after hard work. I love how well the poses flow into one another, and I love how well they are integrated into the seasons and the phases of the garden.
I've realized that the hard part about taking care of me has always been getting started. I've had trouble committing myself to spending large chunks of my time doing selfish things. And in my head, I thought of the things I want to do just for me-- like Yoga and writing and meditating and weaving... I've thought of them as a selfish way to spend my time. But on the days I do them, I'm a better worker at my day job, and I grow stronger as a person. I feel healthy, and I have more patience with the world. So for now, I may only spend ten minutes doing Yoga in the morning, but I'm learning to feel good about that. I see it as a foundation for more good things to grow from. I'm learning that taking good care of me has a good impact on the people around me, too. It's not wrong to love and care for myself. In fact, nobody else can do it better.
Maybe I didn't have to find the time so much as I had to convince myself that I am worth spending quality time on. ...And that I don't have to start doing it all at once. I certainly didn't learn that one from my mother, or my ex. In fact, most women I know have a very hard time (there's that word again!!) doing things for themselves in a consistent way, or having the things they do accepted by their partners as worth the time. There's always something more important they could be doing. But here's the challenge-- if YOU don't think you're important (if you don't think your NEEDS are important), nobody else will either. And that is wrong. You are important. Worth doing good things for.
I don't mean the extra chocolate bar when you've had a bad day... (well, not JUST that!) I mean that 20 minutes of uninterrupted meditation in a quiet room every night so you can sleep comfortably. I mean that hour on the phone with your family or your best friend who moved away five years ago-- every weekend, without trying to multi-task while you talk. I mean the five minutes you spend standing still to enjoy the beauty of a tree, and just BREATHE for a minute, as you rush between buildings, meetings, and soccer practice every afternoon. I mean that 10 minutes I'm spending on my Yoga every morning before work, and the effort it takes to keep a clean spot on the floor big enough to do it in. I mean refusing to stay up that extra half an hour at night to get everyone else ready for the next day-- while they sleep.
Somehow, we've learned that the job must be done right, and we're the only ones who can do the job that way. Somehow, we've agreed to take on the responsibility for the success or failure of every dream our family (even our society) has-- without including our dreams on the list. We take the leftovers. We take the hand-me-down computer. We don't ask for someone to do their share of the chores-- we ask them to help us out a little with the chores we do. We make the kids' lunch and work a 60 hour week. We scrimp and save our pennies so someone else can have their heart's desire. Someone who already spent their pennies on something frivolous and fun.
I don't mean to dishonor our sacrifices, and I know this isn't everyone's reality. I actually hold a great respect for the importance of compassion, of love. But that's just it. Compassion, Love, long-term planning, Sharing and Giving are IMPORTANT, and WORTHY OF RESPECT. And another thing I've learned-- from my own life and from watching those I love-- is that if we continue to give and give without ever replenishing ourselves, we burn out, and we eventually have nothing left to give to anyone.
So-- please-- make a difference in your own quality of life, long-term. Like ten minutes of Yoga before breakfast, or ten minutes of solitude before bed. Now that I've learned how to find the time, I am determined not to lose it again. I want to enjoy my life. I want to experience abundance so that I can share it whole-heartedly, without running dry. I want to honor the Goddess by honoring myself, and the women around me. I'm worth it. She's worth it. You're worth it. Slow down, and give yourself time to recharge.
I want to be my best self in this lifetime, and that means loving myself just as much as I love everyone else. That means it's okay to put my own needs first. To ensure that I have the strength and endurance to be there when others need me. It's okay to teach by my example that compassion and respect belong to everyone, not just an exclusive few who feel they have the right to receive it.
So... What will you find time for today?... what about tomorrow?
Monday, May 5
Spring Fever
So, with one rainy exception, we've had three or four days of warm sunny weather in a row. Didn't it snow just last week?! Not that I'm complaining. I'm just... WONDERING... is all.
Remember the horrid fly invasion of '07? The one where I finally discovered that a whole bag of potatoes had passed "rot" and gone right on to "sludge?" And had, in the process, given birth to a rather large number of little flies that NOTHING COULD KILL?! Yeah. I remember it quite clearly, actually. I ended up using the "kill-anything, but safe-for-your-home" bug spray to STUN the little buggers long enough for me to squish them-- individually. It took hours. Literally.
I'm not really big on killing other living things, but between the ant invasions and the flies, I've come to the handy conclusion that I have no moral problems with defending my home from invaders-- even little crawly ones. ESPECIALLY little crawly ones.
Well, not to bring up old pain or anything, but I recently had what seemed like the beginning of a new invading hoard-- horse flies. Those big metallic blue flies that are literally the size of your thumb-tip. Big. And, it turns out, LOUD. In fact, their ability to sound bigger than they actually are has become a bit of a problem. A really funny problem.
Every once in a while, we get airplanes flying past at night. And for a good minute before you hear them RIGHT OVER HEAD, all you can hear of the airplane coming is this droning rumble. It sounds EXACTLY like those dagm horse flies. And I've sat up and grabbed my rolled up magazine in self-defense more than once, only to realize I couldn't locate the fly because it was technically an airplane. Then there's my cell phone.
I got tired of forgetting to turn off the ringer every time I went to the library-- or forgetting to turn it back on when I left-- so I've just had my phone on "vibrate" for a couple of weeks now. I actually like the compromise. When I get text messages from my bank at 4am, I am no longer awakened every two minutes by a little "ding" to let me know I still haven't checked the message on my cell phone. I sleep through the "vibrate" noise quite well, really... Or I did before the flies came.
Finally this morning I realized that NO, I was NOT hearing yet another intermittent buzzing of yet another gigantic fly buzzing from window to window-- I was hearing the intermittent buzzing of my cell phone vibrating in my purse, telling me it was out of batteries.
In addition to all THOSE little coincidences of sound, the windows in my current apartment are single-pane, and rather old. Like, the house was built in the '40's old. So they just aren't much of a sound barrier. And there are flowering bushes right below the window. I'm realizing that I haven't actually been able to locate the flies that accompany the buzzing of the last two days-- the buzzing that wasn't explained by the cell phone, the airplane, or the neighbor's remodeling noises-- because I was hearing flies and bumblebees OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOWS!!!
I think maybe I can finally relax about the latest "invasion."
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS REALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT...
With the latest natural invasion, I've had a sudden need to FIND THE SOURCE, which means doing a deep clean on my apartment. Luckily, it's Spring, so this would actually be the perfect time for such an action. Also, since about 80% of my belongings are currently in storage, I'm woefully unprepared for warm weather. I don't even know where my non-flannel sheets are packed. So, I'll be going through my tiny apartment and packing up anything I'm not using or won't need for the spring/summer months-- and then I'll be heading over to my storage unit, pulling every last thing I can lift out into the hallway, and sorting out the things I actually WANT to access.
I'll also be looking for any MORE stuff I can donate or otherwise get rid of with a light heart (I actually only kept 2/3 of my original belongings when I moved and put stuff in storage-- I've very little idea of what's left to begin with, really...) because my original packing job SUCKED, and I can't fit anything else into that storage space at the moment. This needs to change. It's a big space. And I want to have at least SOME access to the stuff I MIGHT need, but not every day, if you know what I mean.
Sigh.
Spring Fever is sounding rather painful this year.
I'd really expected to be moved into my next long-term home by now. This long-term limbo is really starting to wear on my good intentions (and my good vibrations-- the flies are just the tip of the ice berg on that one!)...
It's got to be at least as hard for my host family to still be living around ME as it is for me to still be living around them. I'm just so grateful that they gave my cat and I such a warm welcome, and that they haven't kicked us out yet. I guess it's time to start thinking up a new backup plan-- just in case I still don't have my future nailed down by midsummer. That would be pushing the welcome wagon a bit too far, even for me.
In the good news category, I've actually done a little yoga every morning for a week now. And all my creating fabrics have got an actual HOME, so there aren't mounds of crumpled fabric bits littering the floor and all available surfaces anymore. YAY! Also, uhhh.... I haven't needed to use the heater to keep my nose, toes, and rear from freezing for TWO NIGHTS now!! What a relief!! AND, I think I finally got my hands on my favorite version of one of my favorite all-time movies, Persuasion. OH! And I've been going for walks just about every day lately, so I feel like I'm doing the healthy thing fairly well. I'm really proud of that, actually.
So, hey-- let's end this on a good note. Maybe a C# or something...
Remember the horrid fly invasion of '07? The one where I finally discovered that a whole bag of potatoes had passed "rot" and gone right on to "sludge?" And had, in the process, given birth to a rather large number of little flies that NOTHING COULD KILL?! Yeah. I remember it quite clearly, actually. I ended up using the "kill-anything, but safe-for-your-home" bug spray to STUN the little buggers long enough for me to squish them-- individually. It took hours. Literally.
I'm not really big on killing other living things, but between the ant invasions and the flies, I've come to the handy conclusion that I have no moral problems with defending my home from invaders-- even little crawly ones. ESPECIALLY little crawly ones.
Well, not to bring up old pain or anything, but I recently had what seemed like the beginning of a new invading hoard-- horse flies. Those big metallic blue flies that are literally the size of your thumb-tip. Big. And, it turns out, LOUD. In fact, their ability to sound bigger than they actually are has become a bit of a problem. A really funny problem.
Every once in a while, we get airplanes flying past at night. And for a good minute before you hear them RIGHT OVER HEAD, all you can hear of the airplane coming is this droning rumble. It sounds EXACTLY like those dagm horse flies. And I've sat up and grabbed my rolled up magazine in self-defense more than once, only to realize I couldn't locate the fly because it was technically an airplane. Then there's my cell phone.
I got tired of forgetting to turn off the ringer every time I went to the library-- or forgetting to turn it back on when I left-- so I've just had my phone on "vibrate" for a couple of weeks now. I actually like the compromise. When I get text messages from my bank at 4am, I am no longer awakened every two minutes by a little "ding" to let me know I still haven't checked the message on my cell phone. I sleep through the "vibrate" noise quite well, really... Or I did before the flies came.
Finally this morning I realized that NO, I was NOT hearing yet another intermittent buzzing of yet another gigantic fly buzzing from window to window-- I was hearing the intermittent buzzing of my cell phone vibrating in my purse, telling me it was out of batteries.
In addition to all THOSE little coincidences of sound, the windows in my current apartment are single-pane, and rather old. Like, the house was built in the '40's old. So they just aren't much of a sound barrier. And there are flowering bushes right below the window. I'm realizing that I haven't actually been able to locate the flies that accompany the buzzing of the last two days-- the buzzing that wasn't explained by the cell phone, the airplane, or the neighbor's remodeling noises-- because I was hearing flies and bumblebees OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOWS!!!
I think maybe I can finally relax about the latest "invasion."
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS REALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT...
With the latest natural invasion, I've had a sudden need to FIND THE SOURCE, which means doing a deep clean on my apartment. Luckily, it's Spring, so this would actually be the perfect time for such an action. Also, since about 80% of my belongings are currently in storage, I'm woefully unprepared for warm weather. I don't even know where my non-flannel sheets are packed. So, I'll be going through my tiny apartment and packing up anything I'm not using or won't need for the spring/summer months-- and then I'll be heading over to my storage unit, pulling every last thing I can lift out into the hallway, and sorting out the things I actually WANT to access.
I'll also be looking for any MORE stuff I can donate or otherwise get rid of with a light heart (I actually only kept 2/3 of my original belongings when I moved and put stuff in storage-- I've very little idea of what's left to begin with, really...) because my original packing job SUCKED, and I can't fit anything else into that storage space at the moment. This needs to change. It's a big space. And I want to have at least SOME access to the stuff I MIGHT need, but not every day, if you know what I mean.
Sigh.
Spring Fever is sounding rather painful this year.
I'd really expected to be moved into my next long-term home by now. This long-term limbo is really starting to wear on my good intentions (and my good vibrations-- the flies are just the tip of the ice berg on that one!)...
It's got to be at least as hard for my host family to still be living around ME as it is for me to still be living around them. I'm just so grateful that they gave my cat and I such a warm welcome, and that they haven't kicked us out yet. I guess it's time to start thinking up a new backup plan-- just in case I still don't have my future nailed down by midsummer. That would be pushing the welcome wagon a bit too far, even for me.
In the good news category, I've actually done a little yoga every morning for a week now. And all my creating fabrics have got an actual HOME, so there aren't mounds of crumpled fabric bits littering the floor and all available surfaces anymore. YAY! Also, uhhh.... I haven't needed to use the heater to keep my nose, toes, and rear from freezing for TWO NIGHTS now!! What a relief!! AND, I think I finally got my hands on my favorite version of one of my favorite all-time movies, Persuasion. OH! And I've been going for walks just about every day lately, so I feel like I'm doing the healthy thing fairly well. I'm really proud of that, actually.
So, hey-- let's end this on a good note. Maybe a C# or something...
Wednesday, April 9
Cows and Yearlings
Well, I'm doing it. I'm finally starting to write down some of the stories I remember from my time at Wgest Pgoint. And I'm writing some from being an Agrmy wife, too-- and probably another bunch about divorce and what came after, at least for me. I realized that I always think of these as individual stories, not as one long saga... so maybe instead of my past fizzled attempt to write A BOOK, (remember "the girlfriend's guide to Wgest Pgoint" from about five years ago?) I can just write each story as it occurs to me, and then put them in groups. And maybe it's better that my memories aren't all that accurate after all this time-- because it's a collection of MY MEMORIES, and so it's okay if it isn't a perfect record of the exact rules. Makes it that much easier to agree with any Mgilitary critic who claims gross inaccuracies, you know?
This morning I wrote about Ring Weekend. It was on my mind when I woke up for some reason. I find myself hoping that writing it out will also help me move away from those experiences a bit more. Since I realized that I had more information than 99% of the girlfriends around me at the time, I've been burdened by this sort of moral obligation to explain things to them. To make it clear what they can expect, and to expose what's really going on under the shiny surface of that little enclave on the Hudson.
After realizing how few wives understand what they are committing to when they marry into the Mgilitary, I've felt a similar sense of responsibility there. It isn't fair to the wife or to the soldier if she's expecting someone else to take care of her for the rest of her life when she marries a well-filled uniform. I also feel that anyone who is still related to the mgilitary can't (for the sake of her husband's career, among other things) tell the true story of her experiences, and those who've gotten away from it don't usually want to remember.
Similarly, it was recently pointed out to me that there are a lot of aspects of divorce that people don't really talk about, and that it's helpful to know. Divorce is a horrible experience for the vast majority. I think that's actually fairly appropriate. But I also think that there are ways to make it more manageable, and that it'd be nice if someone could tell you what to expect outside of the legalities. Although I recognize that each person's experience is unique, I think it'd be helpful to ME, if to no one else, to tell about my experience. And maybe, if I'm lucky, it'll make some other person's life a little easier, too.
Life is a process. I've certainly been in on some very intense scenarios. And being a student who really likes to observe and consider the social and human interactions around me, I may have noticed some patterns or stories that others do not. I may also be in a unique position of being able to talk about them clearly and without an ulterior motive, per se. We'll see.
As I said, it's a process.
This morning I wrote about Ring Weekend. It was on my mind when I woke up for some reason. I find myself hoping that writing it out will also help me move away from those experiences a bit more. Since I realized that I had more information than 99% of the girlfriends around me at the time, I've been burdened by this sort of moral obligation to explain things to them. To make it clear what they can expect, and to expose what's really going on under the shiny surface of that little enclave on the Hudson.
After realizing how few wives understand what they are committing to when they marry into the Mgilitary, I've felt a similar sense of responsibility there. It isn't fair to the wife or to the soldier if she's expecting someone else to take care of her for the rest of her life when she marries a well-filled uniform. I also feel that anyone who is still related to the mgilitary can't (for the sake of her husband's career, among other things) tell the true story of her experiences, and those who've gotten away from it don't usually want to remember.
Similarly, it was recently pointed out to me that there are a lot of aspects of divorce that people don't really talk about, and that it's helpful to know. Divorce is a horrible experience for the vast majority. I think that's actually fairly appropriate. But I also think that there are ways to make it more manageable, and that it'd be nice if someone could tell you what to expect outside of the legalities. Although I recognize that each person's experience is unique, I think it'd be helpful to ME, if to no one else, to tell about my experience. And maybe, if I'm lucky, it'll make some other person's life a little easier, too.
Life is a process. I've certainly been in on some very intense scenarios. And being a student who really likes to observe and consider the social and human interactions around me, I may have noticed some patterns or stories that others do not. I may also be in a unique position of being able to talk about them clearly and without an ulterior motive, per se. We'll see.
As I said, it's a process.
Thursday, March 20
Soggy
Whatever else is or is not going on, I usually manage to keep busy. Martha Stewart busy. Like, I've got so many irons in the fire that there doesn't seem to be any room left for the logs. That kind of busy. So right now, even though I'm basically unemployed and tending toward barely contained panic about the fact that I STILL HAVE NOT RECEIVED JOB OFFERS (or even second round interviews) from any university libraries-- AND I TURNED DOWN THE ONE JOB OFFER I DID GET (because it wasn't a university library)... I'm not really finding any of what I'd call "free time" to apply for any MORE jobs. This is a problem.
So I quit my short-term "help someone out and get paid, but don't have to take it too seriously" job because it was taking over three days a week and Sundays. And I bid my local library a fond adieu for a few weeks because I was with them on the other two days of the week. I had a week left of those commitments (I like to give plenty of warning)... when my friend's life took a left turn, and she suddenly needed some serious levels of support. And I'm really glad I have the time to give it-- I just wish I wasn't stumbling around so much in the process. I feel like I'm taking more of her time, and offering no relief except moral support or something... but maybe I'll get more efficient, and maybe that's all she needed from me in the first place.
Hold on, my cat is trying to knock over the lamp again...
And I'm going to have this booth at this festival-- THIS WEEKEND... which has taken more time to prepare for than I'd realized, and which I'm really excited about... but it still takes time. And my dad's birthday was this month, so I went and visited my folks for a few days-- which was fun, and I rediscovered the joys of making baskets with my mom and all... but no jobs were applied for in the process. Maybe I just need to win the lottery so I can continue to go from friend to friend and from place to place, sewing good intentions and running the occasional helpful errand... and still be able to pay off my credit cards from college.
Or, maybe I just need to shore up my patience and my hopeful outlook once again, and MAKE TIME to apply for more library jobs in the near future. Maybe I should just grab my calendar right now, and budget one day a week as "Get-R-Done Day"... hang on, my calendar is in the other room...
Well, "other room" is a relative term. I'm lucky to have the space I have, and it's pleasant enough, though I miss having access to direct sunlight... it's just that I've probably got less than 300sf of living space here, and most of it is filled with someone else's things. And after a while, one begins to miss having a space that is truly "her own." And yet, if I didn't have this space, I'd be in real trouble. And I love the people who have lent it to me. I know they miss having the use of the space I currently occupy, and they went out of their way to make it usable while I'm here. It's a common situation, I think, to experience multiple emotions relating to a single reality-- and to be slightly overwhelmed by the complexity of feeling that such a simple event can spark. Another great example would have been the evening I was offered the public library job, and I turned it down.
Sometimes, I still wonder if I did the right thing. If I'd accepted, I'd be employed right now. And it was a good situation, with lots of opportunities for training, innovation, and outreach. The very things I want to be doing. Instead, I chose to bet that an even better fit was waiting for me, just around the corner. That I'd have other opportunities with situations that better fit my personal desires at this point. And so I wait. And wonder if my lack of confidence feeds my lack of realization of those desires, or if the lack of action on the "better job search front" feeds my flagging confidence in my previous choice.
I see the economy nosing down, I see that in a year or a few years, anyone who is still employed will be lucky, and that our nation will have to go through some truly painful changes in order to survive at all... and I wonder if I just threw away my best bet at a secure future. But I also think that universities and colleges are more likely to continue having funding than public libraries, and there is a spark inside me that refuses to be snuffed by circumstance. If I look closely enough at that little flame, I know that I do believe I'll get a good job offer, and that I'll make it through. That I'll eventually look back and realize that this was another opportunity-- a gift from the universe to further my learning and deepen my connection with both suffering and with joy. But right now, I feel soggy.
That sensation of being damp down to my underwear, cold, uncomfortable, and unrealized. Well, I guess that means its the perfect time for a hot shower, a hairdryer, and a project to complete before dinner. I never realized before how much my enjoyment of dancing in the rain depended on the sure knowledge that I had a warm home, a hot & healthy meal, and a change of clothes waiting for me at the end of the journey.
So I quit my short-term "help someone out and get paid, but don't have to take it too seriously" job because it was taking over three days a week and Sundays. And I bid my local library a fond adieu for a few weeks because I was with them on the other two days of the week. I had a week left of those commitments (I like to give plenty of warning)... when my friend's life took a left turn, and she suddenly needed some serious levels of support. And I'm really glad I have the time to give it-- I just wish I wasn't stumbling around so much in the process. I feel like I'm taking more of her time, and offering no relief except moral support or something... but maybe I'll get more efficient, and maybe that's all she needed from me in the first place.
Hold on, my cat is trying to knock over the lamp again...
And I'm going to have this booth at this festival-- THIS WEEKEND... which has taken more time to prepare for than I'd realized, and which I'm really excited about... but it still takes time. And my dad's birthday was this month, so I went and visited my folks for a few days-- which was fun, and I rediscovered the joys of making baskets with my mom and all... but no jobs were applied for in the process. Maybe I just need to win the lottery so I can continue to go from friend to friend and from place to place, sewing good intentions and running the occasional helpful errand... and still be able to pay off my credit cards from college.
Or, maybe I just need to shore up my patience and my hopeful outlook once again, and MAKE TIME to apply for more library jobs in the near future. Maybe I should just grab my calendar right now, and budget one day a week as "Get-R-Done Day"... hang on, my calendar is in the other room...
Well, "other room" is a relative term. I'm lucky to have the space I have, and it's pleasant enough, though I miss having access to direct sunlight... it's just that I've probably got less than 300sf of living space here, and most of it is filled with someone else's things. And after a while, one begins to miss having a space that is truly "her own." And yet, if I didn't have this space, I'd be in real trouble. And I love the people who have lent it to me. I know they miss having the use of the space I currently occupy, and they went out of their way to make it usable while I'm here. It's a common situation, I think, to experience multiple emotions relating to a single reality-- and to be slightly overwhelmed by the complexity of feeling that such a simple event can spark. Another great example would have been the evening I was offered the public library job, and I turned it down.
Sometimes, I still wonder if I did the right thing. If I'd accepted, I'd be employed right now. And it was a good situation, with lots of opportunities for training, innovation, and outreach. The very things I want to be doing. Instead, I chose to bet that an even better fit was waiting for me, just around the corner. That I'd have other opportunities with situations that better fit my personal desires at this point. And so I wait. And wonder if my lack of confidence feeds my lack of realization of those desires, or if the lack of action on the "better job search front" feeds my flagging confidence in my previous choice.
I see the economy nosing down, I see that in a year or a few years, anyone who is still employed will be lucky, and that our nation will have to go through some truly painful changes in order to survive at all... and I wonder if I just threw away my best bet at a secure future. But I also think that universities and colleges are more likely to continue having funding than public libraries, and there is a spark inside me that refuses to be snuffed by circumstance. If I look closely enough at that little flame, I know that I do believe I'll get a good job offer, and that I'll make it through. That I'll eventually look back and realize that this was another opportunity-- a gift from the universe to further my learning and deepen my connection with both suffering and with joy. But right now, I feel soggy.
That sensation of being damp down to my underwear, cold, uncomfortable, and unrealized. Well, I guess that means its the perfect time for a hot shower, a hairdryer, and a project to complete before dinner. I never realized before how much my enjoyment of dancing in the rain depended on the sure knowledge that I had a warm home, a hot & healthy meal, and a change of clothes waiting for me at the end of the journey.
Wednesday, March 12
Interdisciplinarity vs Geraldine Ferraro
So I just happened to check in with one of my favorite blogs-- feministing.com
And discovered this lovely commentary (way at the bottom, I had a lot to say first, whoops) that is technically about Geraldine Ferraro, but really discusses the (more important) growing divide between 2nd wave and 3rd wave feminists.
Nowhere is this divide more evident than in the political debates of non-runners about this year's two most exciting candidates for President. Old-school feminists (ie: 2nd wavers) support HC simply because she is a woman. And I understand the point. They've been forced to act on one-party politics for a long time-- just to be taken seriously in politics at all. They've had to focus their clout very specifically for it to be enough force to enact changes. Important changes. But the latest wave of feminists (ie: 3rd wavers-- may there be many more waves to come, and may my cat's snores not wake the neighbors)... we see things a little differently. It's a bit of a one-world approach. And you can see it beginning to take root in the offerings of many small liberal arts colleges around the country.
You see, we have an interdisciplinary approach. We understand that it isn't just about being female. It's about being black and poor, or female and muslim, or any number of other intersecting (and now interdisciplinary) realities that we AS PEOPLE face every day. We are proud of who we are, and often of where we came from as well. But not everyone sees it that way. What we DO see is that if all underprivileged groups work together in support of a better world for all of us, we'll all win. Not just the women who choose to define themselves (and vote) exclusively by the shape of their genitals. In fact, while respecting greatly the progress and fights and sacrifices that many women before us have made to get us this far... I personally find it every bit as limiting (now) to define myself by my perceived gender as to be defined by it. So I don't. I see that I am a young healthy white woman from a poor farming town with two parents, etc etc etc. All those things intersect to define my personal challenges and my privileges.
I have been privileged to hear many intelligent and self-aware speakers on the subject of race, and how it intersects with other challenges and privileges. One of these speakers explained to me that if we continue to ignore difference (like skin color), we are sending a message to those whose individuality we ignore that these parts of them don't count, or aren't valued. Their cultural background, their family struggles, their special abilities and evident skills... Rather, to be truly anti-racism (or classism or any other ism you think of), we must EMBRACE DIFFERENCE, and find connection in our very uniqueness. We must find ways to bridge the gaps and become a community, without losing the gifts that difference brings. No community could survive by itself if everyone in it were a bricklayer. Who'd bake the bread?
And so I have pasted a small piece of the latest bit of intelligence (I don't always agree, but the site does always make me think about what I think, and why) from feministing.com:
And discovered this lovely commentary (way at the bottom, I had a lot to say first, whoops) that is technically about Geraldine Ferraro, but really discusses the (more important) growing divide between 2nd wave and 3rd wave feminists.
Nowhere is this divide more evident than in the political debates of non-runners about this year's two most exciting candidates for President. Old-school feminists (ie: 2nd wavers) support HC simply because she is a woman. And I understand the point. They've been forced to act on one-party politics for a long time-- just to be taken seriously in politics at all. They've had to focus their clout very specifically for it to be enough force to enact changes. Important changes. But the latest wave of feminists (ie: 3rd wavers-- may there be many more waves to come, and may my cat's snores not wake the neighbors)... we see things a little differently. It's a bit of a one-world approach. And you can see it beginning to take root in the offerings of many small liberal arts colleges around the country.
You see, we have an interdisciplinary approach. We understand that it isn't just about being female. It's about being black and poor, or female and muslim, or any number of other intersecting (and now interdisciplinary) realities that we AS PEOPLE face every day. We are proud of who we are, and often of where we came from as well. But not everyone sees it that way. What we DO see is that if all underprivileged groups work together in support of a better world for all of us, we'll all win. Not just the women who choose to define themselves (and vote) exclusively by the shape of their genitals. In fact, while respecting greatly the progress and fights and sacrifices that many women before us have made to get us this far... I personally find it every bit as limiting (now) to define myself by my perceived gender as to be defined by it. So I don't. I see that I am a young healthy white woman from a poor farming town with two parents, etc etc etc. All those things intersect to define my personal challenges and my privileges.
I have been privileged to hear many intelligent and self-aware speakers on the subject of race, and how it intersects with other challenges and privileges. One of these speakers explained to me that if we continue to ignore difference (like skin color), we are sending a message to those whose individuality we ignore that these parts of them don't count, or aren't valued. Their cultural background, their family struggles, their special abilities and evident skills... Rather, to be truly anti-racism (or classism or any other ism you think of), we must EMBRACE DIFFERENCE, and find connection in our very uniqueness. We must find ways to bridge the gaps and become a community, without losing the gifts that difference brings. No community could survive by itself if everyone in it were a bricklayer. Who'd bake the bread?
And so I have pasted a small piece of the latest bit of intelligence (I don't always agree, but the site does always make me think about what I think, and why) from feministing.com:
| Geraldine Ferraro |
| Geraldine Ferraro, Democratic politician and champion of reproductive choice, said the following to The Daily Breeze in Torrance, California: If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position. And if he was a woman (of any color), he would not be in this position. He happens to be very lucky to be who he is. And the country is caught up in the concept. It strikes me as more fodder for Jessica's awesome argument in The Nation--namely that some older feminist's insistence on making divisive, black vs. white arguments around the presidential election is indicative of a larger intergenerational trend in the women's movement. Younger women want to speak, breathe, and live intersectional feminism--the idea that social change emerges at the crossroads of race, class, gender, sexuality, ability etc. Some older women are stuck in a second-wave conception of feminism as wholly focused on gender and championing women no matter what the context or complexities. We see this divide showing up in women's organizations. We see this divide showing up in media coverage. And we see this divide showing up in the interpersonal, every day struggles between feminists of different generations who want to see one another and do good work together. So I ask you: What do you think? |
Sunday, March 9
Sooner Or Later
I've no idea of the tune, or where I heard this song-- but there's a song out there that goes like this: ....everything else, sooner or later, falls apart.... And I can identify with that. There have been times when I even felt that everything I touched fell apart. But I don't feel that right now.
Right now, I'm waiting. And it isn't something I do very gracefully most of the time. In fact, the longer I have to wait, the uglier it gets. I've got some applications out there in the world, somewhere, right now. A few of those have even been acknowledged by the institutions I sent them to, so I know people've RECEIVED MY APPLICATIONS. What I don't know is HOW they received them. I had one telephone interview. It was a learning experience, but I feel that I actually did fairly well. And they told me that the next step would be flying out their top three candidates for face-to-face interviews sometime in the last two weeks of March. And unless they want to end up holding airline bills for thousands of dollars, that means those final three candidates would have to be contacted at least two weeks out-- so... by the beginning of March. Which has now passed. Without my hearing a word. I've also heard nothing from my personal favorite (site unseen) of the places I've applied. Their deadline was February 29th. I know they GOT the application. I thought I had a good strong chance of being interviewed. I'm trying REALLY HARD to believe that they just haven't contacted everyone in their top ten yet. It's only been a week.
I have to say, my patience with the whole situation (and with myself) is starting to wear thin. The good news is that I've put moratoriums on my other commitments (don't know how it happened, but I ended up committed to doing SOMETHING for SOMEONE every day of the week for the past month!) so that I can again be an application-producing machine. I need a job. A really awesome job that I love and that pays the bills (and the loans, with maybe some left over for fun and savings) and.... Well....
I'm also really excited about March. In general, it's a fun month. Spring is popping out everywhere, the birds are ecstatic (and loud), and many of my favorite people have birthdays in March. In addition to this, the Spring Equinox is coming, and along with it-- PaganFaire2008!! In which I have my very own booth. Finally, a place to find good homes for my fabric storytales and my scented lotions and my hand-mixed loose-leaf herbal teas and my home-made medicinal ointments. And, in the process, I might even make back a bit of the money it took for me to make these things and reserve the booth. I tell you, March is a good month!
Did you know that I've been in search of good (and unique) tapered candle holders for something like 18 months now? Not a frantic search, by any means... But of the three I have, two are broken, none are all that sturdy, and all are short and easily found at any local store. But then last week, I was coming out of the bagel store (lunch after volunteering in the Library and before getting my car's first oil change-- they say the gas gauge is never really that accurate, and the problem I'm having might be the breaks, but they'd have to tear the car apart to find out) and for the first time, I noticed a little "antiques and gifts" (read second-hand) store across the parking lot. Now, I don't often go into these because they are often musty and depressing... But on that day, I went right over and wandered in. And found the perfect sturdy hand-blown glass candlestick holders I'd been searching for. They are very unique, they are a gorgeous aqua blue, they have a wide sturdy base, they don't actually need extra goop to hold the candles in place, and the lady agreed to sell them both to me for $10 off the asking price. Which was like a 40% discount, and meant that I didn't have to blow my budget to buy them. I love the month of March!!
In other good news, my latest attempt at an organization system seems to be working fairly well. And I'm nearly done with my ALA Core Books List Update, which really rocks. See, I was asked to update the Reference section of books (all 97 of them, plus any new ones I want to add) for the American Library Association's Women's Studies list of Core Books for any Women's Studies library collection. And I was a lot daunted by the project. I mean, I won't even feel like a real librarian until I get through my first official day of paid work as one! And here I am weeding the REFERENCE LIST that the whole nation uses for their Women's Studies library collections. Good God! But I did it. And I feel good about what I did. Now, we'll just wait and see what everybody else thinks. =)
Sooner or later, everybody has an opinion about something.
Right now, I'm waiting. And it isn't something I do very gracefully most of the time. In fact, the longer I have to wait, the uglier it gets. I've got some applications out there in the world, somewhere, right now. A few of those have even been acknowledged by the institutions I sent them to, so I know people've RECEIVED MY APPLICATIONS. What I don't know is HOW they received them. I had one telephone interview. It was a learning experience, but I feel that I actually did fairly well. And they told me that the next step would be flying out their top three candidates for face-to-face interviews sometime in the last two weeks of March. And unless they want to end up holding airline bills for thousands of dollars, that means those final three candidates would have to be contacted at least two weeks out-- so... by the beginning of March. Which has now passed. Without my hearing a word. I've also heard nothing from my personal favorite (site unseen) of the places I've applied. Their deadline was February 29th. I know they GOT the application. I thought I had a good strong chance of being interviewed. I'm trying REALLY HARD to believe that they just haven't contacted everyone in their top ten yet. It's only been a week.
I have to say, my patience with the whole situation (and with myself) is starting to wear thin. The good news is that I've put moratoriums on my other commitments (don't know how it happened, but I ended up committed to doing SOMETHING for SOMEONE every day of the week for the past month!) so that I can again be an application-producing machine. I need a job. A really awesome job that I love and that pays the bills (and the loans, with maybe some left over for fun and savings) and.... Well....
I'm also really excited about March. In general, it's a fun month. Spring is popping out everywhere, the birds are ecstatic (and loud), and many of my favorite people have birthdays in March. In addition to this, the Spring Equinox is coming, and along with it-- PaganFaire2008!! In which I have my very own booth. Finally, a place to find good homes for my fabric storytales and my scented lotions and my hand-mixed loose-leaf herbal teas and my home-made medicinal ointments. And, in the process, I might even make back a bit of the money it took for me to make these things and reserve the booth. I tell you, March is a good month!
Did you know that I've been in search of good (and unique) tapered candle holders for something like 18 months now? Not a frantic search, by any means... But of the three I have, two are broken, none are all that sturdy, and all are short and easily found at any local store. But then last week, I was coming out of the bagel store (lunch after volunteering in the Library and before getting my car's first oil change-- they say the gas gauge is never really that accurate, and the problem I'm having might be the breaks, but they'd have to tear the car apart to find out) and for the first time, I noticed a little "antiques and gifts" (read second-hand) store across the parking lot. Now, I don't often go into these because they are often musty and depressing... But on that day, I went right over and wandered in. And found the perfect sturdy hand-blown glass candlestick holders I'd been searching for. They are very unique, they are a gorgeous aqua blue, they have a wide sturdy base, they don't actually need extra goop to hold the candles in place, and the lady agreed to sell them both to me for $10 off the asking price. Which was like a 40% discount, and meant that I didn't have to blow my budget to buy them. I love the month of March!!
In other good news, my latest attempt at an organization system seems to be working fairly well. And I'm nearly done with my ALA Core Books List Update, which really rocks. See, I was asked to update the Reference section of books (all 97 of them, plus any new ones I want to add) for the American Library Association's Women's Studies list of Core Books for any Women's Studies library collection. And I was a lot daunted by the project. I mean, I won't even feel like a real librarian until I get through my first official day of paid work as one! And here I am weeding the REFERENCE LIST that the whole nation uses for their Women's Studies library collections. Good God! But I did it. And I feel good about what I did. Now, we'll just wait and see what everybody else thinks. =)
Sooner or later, everybody has an opinion about something.
Wednesday, February 20
Apple, Peaches, Pumpkin Pie...
Okay, so that was for counting down to the FINDING part of Hide-and-Seek... but Eeanie-Meeenie-Mynie-MOE was harder to spell. And really, I'm writing about choices.
To use LOL dialect:
Choices. I has dem.
And that is both more terrible and more wonderful than I could ever have imagined. You see, I'm job-hunting. I graduated, and unless I really want to rack up MORE student loans by going back to school AGAIN, this is my option. Job-hunting. Truthfully, I'm incredibly excited about having a job. As a Reference Librarian. That pays. Legally.
I've been living on loans and credit cards for a while now, and I'm really looking forward to getting them all paid off-- and doing it with real money that I actually EARNED MYSELF! And to top it all off, I love going into a library and knowing I belong there. Getting to wear the little tag (when I can find it) that tells people I actually have a RIGHT to offer them suggestions. Because, you know, I do it all the time anyway. In bookstores and train stations and shopping malls-- My friend, SLM, thinks we all have big blue signs on our foreheads that read "Information"... because even when we DON'T volunteer to help, we get asked. I guess we have that air of approachability mixed with a fine sense of capability or something... Kind of like a drunk on a bike. Nope, not driving... are you kidding? But still moving forward.
Ummm... okay, maybe not like a drunk on a bike.
The point is that I suddenly find myself with options. I'm getting interviews-- and follow-up interviews. I'm getting positive feedback, and if I cross my fingers (andmaybemytoes) and wiggle my nose, I might even get a job offer-- or two or three. And that means I get to decide if I want to be University or Public-oriented. And if I want to live in the Pacific Northwest, or if anyplace north of south will do. I get to decide where I live (sort of) and how I spend my new (upcoming, when I get a job) income. I get to decide what committees to join (usually-- some of them are automatic 'cause I'm the new guy and nobody else will take that one)... I have choices.
And it's scaring the be-jezus out of me.
How the hgell do I know???!
The one thing I HAVE figured out is that I'm going to have fun wherever I end up. Because I'll be a librarian, and because I'll have chosen that place for that period of time, and because I know how to make my own fun. I've managed to make any number of unsuitable jobs, work situations, living situations, and relationships work well past their go-bad-date. So one that actually suits me and feels good-- even if it isn't the BEST POSSIBLE OUTCOME... Somehow I think it'll be okay. And THAT is a real relief.
I guess I'm choosing to succeed.
It feels good.
Scary-Good.
To use LOL dialect:
Choices. I has dem.
And that is both more terrible and more wonderful than I could ever have imagined. You see, I'm job-hunting. I graduated, and unless I really want to rack up MORE student loans by going back to school AGAIN, this is my option. Job-hunting. Truthfully, I'm incredibly excited about having a job. As a Reference Librarian. That pays. Legally.
I've been living on loans and credit cards for a while now, and I'm really looking forward to getting them all paid off-- and doing it with real money that I actually EARNED MYSELF! And to top it all off, I love going into a library and knowing I belong there. Getting to wear the little tag (when I can find it) that tells people I actually have a RIGHT to offer them suggestions. Because, you know, I do it all the time anyway. In bookstores and train stations and shopping malls-- My friend, SLM, thinks we all have big blue signs on our foreheads that read "Information"... because even when we DON'T volunteer to help, we get asked. I guess we have that air of approachability mixed with a fine sense of capability or something... Kind of like a drunk on a bike. Nope, not driving... are you kidding? But still moving forward.
Ummm... okay, maybe not like a drunk on a bike.
The point is that I suddenly find myself with options. I'm getting interviews-- and follow-up interviews. I'm getting positive feedback, and if I cross my fingers (andmaybemytoes) and wiggle my nose, I might even get a job offer-- or two or three. And that means I get to decide if I want to be University or Public-oriented. And if I want to live in the Pacific Northwest, or if anyplace north of south will do. I get to decide where I live (sort of) and how I spend my new (upcoming, when I get a job) income. I get to decide what committees to join (usually-- some of them are automatic 'cause I'm the new guy and nobody else will take that one)... I have choices.
And it's scaring the be-jezus out of me.
How the hgell do I know???!
The one thing I HAVE figured out is that I'm going to have fun wherever I end up. Because I'll be a librarian, and because I'll have chosen that place for that period of time, and because I know how to make my own fun. I've managed to make any number of unsuitable jobs, work situations, living situations, and relationships work well past their go-bad-date. So one that actually suits me and feels good-- even if it isn't the BEST POSSIBLE OUTCOME... Somehow I think it'll be okay. And THAT is a real relief.
I guess I'm choosing to succeed.
It feels good.
Scary-Good.
Sunday, February 10
Apocalypse Now
This is not how I would have guessed that Apocalypse was spelled... But, technically, I DID guess that it was spelled this way, and I was right. Hmmm...
Anyway, I'm writing about apocalypses because I've been DREAMING about them every night for over a week now. And I wouldn't call them nightmares. To my mind, categorizing something as a nightmare would require a certain level of emotional involvement, and waking in fear, cold sweats, etc. I don't have any of that. In fact, I'm strangely emotionally detached from the various and many different apocalyptic visions I've lived through in my dreams of late. I think the one saving grace has been the utter ridiculousness of the scenarios. I think it also has helped that when I do wake up, I realize right away that I know a better way (than the one I acted out in my dream) to handle whatever crisis I faced in my dream. It's bizarrely reassuring.
In fact, for all that last night was spent--in my weird dream, this is-- trying to find help for an injured ambulance driver after several layers of overpasses collapsed on each other (so there I was, with SLM, driving an ambulance around, missing my exits, and looking for help-- thank goodness we eventually drove past DM, who is licensed as a lesser EMT, and he had time to stop filling sandbags and come help us help the injured-- I have no idea what the sandbags were even for!)... I was surprisingly calm when I woke up part way through the dream. In fact, my first thought was-- That's dumb! I'd just have stayed with the injured guy and called 911 on my cell phone!
Previously this week, I dreamed of being a refugee in the hills of Idaho because Oregon and Washington were lost; getting caught in some sort of riots in a small midwestern town with a surprisingly large number of rioters around me, and... well... you get the picture. Whatever it is that my psyche is trying to work through (you've heard that theory about dreams being our subconscious way of working through internalized problems, right?), I really hope I'm making progress.
In other news, I've created my own organic mixed bean soup mix, and am looking forward to trying it out in my crock pot. Wish me luck. You know how well I do with crock pots...
Anyway, I'm writing about apocalypses because I've been DREAMING about them every night for over a week now. And I wouldn't call them nightmares. To my mind, categorizing something as a nightmare would require a certain level of emotional involvement, and waking in fear, cold sweats, etc. I don't have any of that. In fact, I'm strangely emotionally detached from the various and many different apocalyptic visions I've lived through in my dreams of late. I think the one saving grace has been the utter ridiculousness of the scenarios. I think it also has helped that when I do wake up, I realize right away that I know a better way (than the one I acted out in my dream) to handle whatever crisis I faced in my dream. It's bizarrely reassuring.
In fact, for all that last night was spent--in my weird dream, this is-- trying to find help for an injured ambulance driver after several layers of overpasses collapsed on each other (so there I was, with SLM, driving an ambulance around, missing my exits, and looking for help-- thank goodness we eventually drove past DM, who is licensed as a lesser EMT, and he had time to stop filling sandbags and come help us help the injured-- I have no idea what the sandbags were even for!)... I was surprisingly calm when I woke up part way through the dream. In fact, my first thought was-- That's dumb! I'd just have stayed with the injured guy and called 911 on my cell phone!
Previously this week, I dreamed of being a refugee in the hills of Idaho because Oregon and Washington were lost; getting caught in some sort of riots in a small midwestern town with a surprisingly large number of rioters around me, and... well... you get the picture. Whatever it is that my psyche is trying to work through (you've heard that theory about dreams being our subconscious way of working through internalized problems, right?), I really hope I'm making progress.
In other news, I've created my own organic mixed bean soup mix, and am looking forward to trying it out in my crock pot. Wish me luck. You know how well I do with crock pots...
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