Despite its tough spots, I must begin by expressing my utmost gratitude to 2010 for the following:
The chance to finally visit the Redwoods and Yosemite. I swear my soul will never be the same after being in those ancient spots. Never, ever the same.
My most lovely trip to Asheville to see Seester, and basically, just for Seester in general. My heart will always ache a little that we can't live closer to each other, but I am so very grateful for such a tremendous best friend.
Number of severe dizzy episodes in 2010 = 0. When I realized I'd made it to the one year mark without a major episode, it was like breathing again for the first time in a long time. Thank you.
Making a little more peace with my body, and learning a little more how to take better care of it. This will probably always be a struggle for me, but I made some inroads this year. Thank you.
A new home, new friends, and a new church. I still long for the new home to feel like the place I've always been, for my new friends to feel like old friends, and for my church to feel like the other home I've always had, but I know that, with a little patience and nurturing, I'll get there. Until then, I'm grateful for a good start.
Dan. This year, like the years before it, has given me so many reasons to love my amazing husband even more. Really, truly, thank you. Whatever you have done to help him put up with me, please teach 2011 how to keep doing it.
Granted, there's a lot I could have done without: the expensive vet bills, the health scares of family and friends, the ridiculous number of dark and horrible days some of my loved ones had to endure, the number of tears I cried over a job that sucks away little parts of me, and my general end-of-summer existential crisis. I feel as though, in many ways, I have broken open this year--which is both a good thing and a bad thing. A painful process, but a welcome relief. A sometimes uncomfortable mix of endless possibility and utter vulnerability.
Peering over the edge at 2011, I feel both thrilled and petrified. My hopes for the coming year are so very high--and yet, with my oft-nagging sense of waiting for the shoe to drop, I worry that perhaps I am placing too much stock in 365 days. It's time, I know, to put myself out there and take some leaps of faith, but it's not often something I'm good at. And so, 2011, I'm placing a lot of trust in you. And a lot of trust in me. Here's to all the wonderful things that 2010 brought, to all the things I leave behind, and to the promise of all things new. . . .
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
New Things: Weeks 4 & 5
With all the magic of the holidays distracting me, I've gotten a little behind with posting! Here's a recap of the new things I've tried in the last two weeks.
1. Indoor cycling
After looking through the glass to watch the indoor cycling class at my gym more than once, I finally decided to give it a go. Thankfully, my gym offers a beginner class, so I made a point to start with that so it would feel less intimidating. To be honest, my butt took quite a beating(!), but the workout was awesome. I love all the visualization and the way you can set your own pace, and the music is fun (especially since Christmas music was the theme for the class I attended!). I am definitely looking forward to working more cycling (of the indoor variety) into my exercise routine.
2. Making my own pie crust
Like baking bread, making a pie crust from scratch seemed like one of those things that should be easy to do but which I found myself either too intimidated or too lazy to try. Dan requested an apple pie for Christmas dinner dessert, so I thought that would be the perfect time to give it a go! As with the bread, it was much easier than I expected (especially with the help of this great tutorial from Real Simple), and it turned out yummy. I forgot to protect the outer part of the crust with foil, so it got a bit burned, and my poor little stars also suffered from a lack of protection and ended up with some burnt little points. Overall, though, the crust was flaky and buttery and delicious--and not too shabby for my first effort. Next time, with the help of a pie crust shield, hopefully it will be scorch free!
3. Getting crafty
As I've been examining my priorities in the last year or so and thinking about what's missing, one of the things I've realized has been lacking in my life is any real outlets for creativity. From childhood (when we were all happily creative!) up until the last five years or so, I was frequently engaged in all sorts of creative outlets: dance, theater, making cards for family and friends, sewing, cross stitching, writing, starting to bake. . . and then things just sort of came to a halt. Though I'm not the most creative person--and certainly not the most talented--I definitely feel an urge to create things of late and to make my home a more personalized place.
One of my first projects was to try to add something homemade to our Christmas tree in an effort to give it a more organic, homey feel. I wanted to do something like string popcorn or cranberries, but I knew they were likely to become the snack/toys of my cats, or worse, of mice (my mom once put popcorn on her tree, and some unwelcome four-legged critters took it as an invitation for an all-you-can-eat buffet). I decided to go with a paper chain, which was something fun but easy that I could do while listening to music and watching Christmas movies. I love the results, as it adds something homemade and a bit whimsical to the tree.
I also decided to decorate my own stocking. Using this project from Martha Stewart as inspiration, I modified it a bit to make my own rickrack stocking. I love that I could make it exactly as I wanted, with purple included! I was also able to use some of my mom's old sewing supplies--including some old rickrack that I found from 1973(!), which made it feel even more special.
1. Indoor cycling
After looking through the glass to watch the indoor cycling class at my gym more than once, I finally decided to give it a go. Thankfully, my gym offers a beginner class, so I made a point to start with that so it would feel less intimidating. To be honest, my butt took quite a beating(!), but the workout was awesome. I love all the visualization and the way you can set your own pace, and the music is fun (especially since Christmas music was the theme for the class I attended!). I am definitely looking forward to working more cycling (of the indoor variety) into my exercise routine.
2. Making my own pie crust
Like baking bread, making a pie crust from scratch seemed like one of those things that should be easy to do but which I found myself either too intimidated or too lazy to try. Dan requested an apple pie for Christmas dinner dessert, so I thought that would be the perfect time to give it a go! As with the bread, it was much easier than I expected (especially with the help of this great tutorial from Real Simple), and it turned out yummy. I forgot to protect the outer part of the crust with foil, so it got a bit burned, and my poor little stars also suffered from a lack of protection and ended up with some burnt little points. Overall, though, the crust was flaky and buttery and delicious--and not too shabby for my first effort. Next time, with the help of a pie crust shield, hopefully it will be scorch free!
3. Getting crafty
As I've been examining my priorities in the last year or so and thinking about what's missing, one of the things I've realized has been lacking in my life is any real outlets for creativity. From childhood (when we were all happily creative!) up until the last five years or so, I was frequently engaged in all sorts of creative outlets: dance, theater, making cards for family and friends, sewing, cross stitching, writing, starting to bake. . . and then things just sort of came to a halt. Though I'm not the most creative person--and certainly not the most talented--I definitely feel an urge to create things of late and to make my home a more personalized place.
One of my first projects was to try to add something homemade to our Christmas tree in an effort to give it a more organic, homey feel. I wanted to do something like string popcorn or cranberries, but I knew they were likely to become the snack/toys of my cats, or worse, of mice (my mom once put popcorn on her tree, and some unwelcome four-legged critters took it as an invitation for an all-you-can-eat buffet). I decided to go with a paper chain, which was something fun but easy that I could do while listening to music and watching Christmas movies. I love the results, as it adds something homemade and a bit whimsical to the tree.
I also decided to decorate my own stocking. Using this project from Martha Stewart as inspiration, I modified it a bit to make my own rickrack stocking. I love that I could make it exactly as I wanted, with purple included! I was also able to use some of my mom's old sewing supplies--including some old rickrack that I found from 1973(!), which made it feel even more special.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Longwood Christmas
Last week, Dan and I took a trip to Longwood Gardens for their Christmas display. Though we had to brave frigid temperatures in the 20s, it truly felt like walking in winter wonderland (I can only imagine how beautiful it must be with snow!).
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Happy Birthday, Adam
Today would have been Adam's 23rd birthday. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like for him if he were still here. . . if he would have found a way through the darkness of his addiction or if he would still be gripped in its chokehold. I can't believe it's been almost three years since the day the world stopped turning for my family.
Happy birthday, little brother. You are missed.
Happy birthday, little brother. You are missed.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Good Thing: Keys for Kindness
My building was recently sold, and one of the first things the new landlord did was change the locks. While this is certainly not a bad idea, it did create a small problem for me in the form of old useless keys. I just hate putting things like that in the trash, especially when there is a chance that they might be recyclable.
Thanks to the power of the Internet, however, I believe I have found a good home for them: Keys for Kindness. They collect old keys, recycle the metal, and donate the proceeds to the Multiple Sclerosis Society. What a great way to make good use of all the old keys everyone has sitting around! Mine are going in the mail straight away.
Thanks to the power of the Internet, however, I believe I have found a good home for them: Keys for Kindness. They collect old keys, recycle the metal, and donate the proceeds to the Multiple Sclerosis Society. What a great way to make good use of all the old keys everyone has sitting around! Mine are going in the mail straight away.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
New Things: Week 3
Two new things this week. . . .
This year, Dan and I began what I hope will become an annual tradition by participating in Amnesty International's Write for Rights Global Write-A-Thon. Last night, on Human Rights Day, we made a date night of writing and/or printing and signing a total of 58 letters, notecards, and postcards in support of those suffering human rights abuses.
The letters that we printed and signed went to international government officials or embassy offices demanding action.
In addition, we wrote notes and postcards to the individuals suffering human rights abuses to provide them with support and encouragement. These include prisoners of conscience who have been unjustly imprisoned, communities that have experienced persecution and discrimination, and defenders of human rights facing daily threats. Reading their stories made me feel truly grateful for a life free from persecution; writing letters seemed like such a small (yet important) thing to do considering the unimaginable challenges they face.
After three and a half hours, our letters were ready to send to Romania, Indonesia, Iraq, Iran, Gambia, China, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and other places all over the world. It was a pretty amazing thing to be a part of such a worldwide effort--they are expecting over 250,000 letters to be sent! (P.S.--If you're interested in writing, it's definitely not too late even after the Write-a-Thon ends on December 12.)
The second new thing of the week: After contemplating it for months, Dan and I finally signed on to CREDO Mobile, a cell phone service that supports progressive causes. I've had mixed feelings about supporting my previous phone carrier after learning more about their politics, so it's nice to get behind a company I can support 100% (and, as an added bonus, it doesn't cost any more than our old plan, and I'll make out with a new phone!).
All in all, I guess it was my week to do my little bit to promote social justice. Next week's new things are likely to be much less lofty, but for now, it feels nice to move from thoughts to action--even if they are just little actions--to support causes I care about. For me, it's all part of my journey to really prioritize the things that matter most to me.
This year, Dan and I began what I hope will become an annual tradition by participating in Amnesty International's Write for Rights Global Write-A-Thon. Last night, on Human Rights Day, we made a date night of writing and/or printing and signing a total of 58 letters, notecards, and postcards in support of those suffering human rights abuses.
The letters that we printed and signed went to international government officials or embassy offices demanding action.
In addition, we wrote notes and postcards to the individuals suffering human rights abuses to provide them with support and encouragement. These include prisoners of conscience who have been unjustly imprisoned, communities that have experienced persecution and discrimination, and defenders of human rights facing daily threats. Reading their stories made me feel truly grateful for a life free from persecution; writing letters seemed like such a small (yet important) thing to do considering the unimaginable challenges they face.
After three and a half hours, our letters were ready to send to Romania, Indonesia, Iraq, Iran, Gambia, China, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and other places all over the world. It was a pretty amazing thing to be a part of such a worldwide effort--they are expecting over 250,000 letters to be sent! (P.S.--If you're interested in writing, it's definitely not too late even after the Write-a-Thon ends on December 12.)
The second new thing of the week: After contemplating it for months, Dan and I finally signed on to CREDO Mobile, a cell phone service that supports progressive causes. I've had mixed feelings about supporting my previous phone carrier after learning more about their politics, so it's nice to get behind a company I can support 100% (and, as an added bonus, it doesn't cost any more than our old plan, and I'll make out with a new phone!).
All in all, I guess it was my week to do my little bit to promote social justice. Next week's new things are likely to be much less lofty, but for now, it feels nice to move from thoughts to action--even if they are just little actions--to support causes I care about. For me, it's all part of my journey to really prioritize the things that matter most to me.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
A Christmas Collection
As a general rule, I am not a fan of collections. Not to say that I don't appreciate other people's treasures, but collecting is just not something I'm really into, especially given my efforts to have less stuff. I will admit that Dan and I are definitely guilty of having too many books, but other than that, I don't really have any intentional collections going in my house.
The one exception for me is Christmas tree ornaments. The first year that we got married, Dan and I started a tradition of collecting an ornament every year to represent a significant event or trip from that year. The first year we were married, it was an ornament from Oregon (where we went for our honeymoon); the following year, it was a picture of our cats who we had adopted that year. Our ornament from 2010 is one we picked up during our trip to Yosemite.
I love how, as we unpack the ornaments every year, each one tells a story. I hope that, 30 or 40 years from now, we will be able to look back at a tree full of ornaments marking special times or trips in our lives and it will bring back a host of memories. Here are a few of my favorites, including some that have followed me from the tree we had growing up.
A little bell from when I was six
One of several wooden ornaments my mother painted before I was born
An ornament marking our time in St. Louis (with Harry Potter close behind!)
Classic glass ornaments that pre-date me
My sister and I loved this one when we were little. You can actually flip through the book and read the entire story!
The one exception for me is Christmas tree ornaments. The first year that we got married, Dan and I started a tradition of collecting an ornament every year to represent a significant event or trip from that year. The first year we were married, it was an ornament from Oregon (where we went for our honeymoon); the following year, it was a picture of our cats who we had adopted that year. Our ornament from 2010 is one we picked up during our trip to Yosemite.
I love how, as we unpack the ornaments every year, each one tells a story. I hope that, 30 or 40 years from now, we will be able to look back at a tree full of ornaments marking special times or trips in our lives and it will bring back a host of memories. Here are a few of my favorites, including some that have followed me from the tree we had growing up.
A little bell from when I was six
One of several wooden ornaments my mother painted before I was born
An ornament marking our time in St. Louis (with Harry Potter close behind!)
Classic glass ornaments that pre-date me
My sister and I loved this one when we were little. You can actually flip through the book and read the entire story!Sunday, December 5, 2010
New Things: Week 2
For my second week of new things, I finally got around to doing two little things I've been wanting to do for a long time.
In the past few years, I've tried as much as possible to use green/natural cleaning products in my home. The one exception has been dishwasher detergent, as over and over again I have found that eco-friendly dishwasher detergents do not get the job done in my crappy rental dishwashers.
Back in the spring, I read that you can use a mixture of half baking soda and half Borax in the dishwasher. I bought the Borax several months ago. Since that time, it has been sitting under my sink, next to a box of baking soda, next to the package of Method dish tablets that I continue to buy even though I'm not 100% happy with them. Sad, sad, sad. This weekend, I took the monumental step of actually getting the Borax and baking soda out, putting them into an old bottle, shaking it up, and putting some in the dishwasher. One more step toward a greener planet accomplished.
The other new thing that I've been wanting to do for ages is make my own bread. I'm just not satisfied with the taste and/or ingredients of so many store-bought breads, and I love the idea of having a home filled with the smells of a freshly baked loaf. I'm a bit of a novice baker, but I thought I'd finally give it a go!
Dough ready for the first rise (I'm wearing my mom's old Christmas apron. She had it when I was a kid, and I love to wear whenever I'm baking!)
Hot from the oven in all its multiseed glory
Warm slices of freshly baked bread = yumminess
In the past few years, I've tried as much as possible to use green/natural cleaning products in my home. The one exception has been dishwasher detergent, as over and over again I have found that eco-friendly dishwasher detergents do not get the job done in my crappy rental dishwashers.
Back in the spring, I read that you can use a mixture of half baking soda and half Borax in the dishwasher. I bought the Borax several months ago. Since that time, it has been sitting under my sink, next to a box of baking soda, next to the package of Method dish tablets that I continue to buy even though I'm not 100% happy with them. Sad, sad, sad. This weekend, I took the monumental step of actually getting the Borax and baking soda out, putting them into an old bottle, shaking it up, and putting some in the dishwasher. One more step toward a greener planet accomplished.
The other new thing that I've been wanting to do for ages is make my own bread. I'm just not satisfied with the taste and/or ingredients of so many store-bought breads, and I love the idea of having a home filled with the smells of a freshly baked loaf. I'm a bit of a novice baker, but I thought I'd finally give it a go!
Dough ready for the first rise (I'm wearing my mom's old Christmas apron. She had it when I was a kid, and I love to wear whenever I'm baking!)
Hot from the oven in all its multiseed glory
Warm slices of freshly baked bread = yumminessI have to say that the bread turned out quite delicious--nice and crispy on the outside, warm and chewy on the inside, and it has a wonderfully hearty, rustic flavor (which is one of the things I love in a bread). I was surprised to discover how easy it was to make. I'm looking forward to trying my hand at some other varieties!
Friday, December 3, 2010
Good Thing: FiveBooks
I recently read about this website called FiveBooks. As described on the website: "Become an instant expert. Every day an eminent writer, thinker, commentator, politician, academic chooses five books on their specialist subject. From Einstein to Keynes, Iraq to the Andes, Communism to Empire. Share in the knowledge."
What a fantastic idea! I'm always wondering where to start when I become interested in learning more about a topic, when I want to explore a new genre, or when I'm just interested in becoming better-read in general. This will hopefully prove to be a handy resource for directing me to some great books!
What a fantastic idea! I'm always wondering where to start when I become interested in learning more about a topic, when I want to explore a new genre, or when I'm just interested in becoming better-read in general. This will hopefully prove to be a handy resource for directing me to some great books!
Monday, November 29, 2010
New Thing: Week 1
My first week of attempting to do new/more meaningful things happened while I was in Florida for Thanksgiving. After tiring of my workouts at home, I joined the YMCA a couple of weeks ago. While on vacation, I was fortunate that my father-in-law lived within walking distance of a Y, and since I have membership privileges at any of the locations across the country, I was able to pop in.
I went to the Y twice during my four-day vacation in Florida. I think that in itself is quite a feat (and definitely not something I would have made a priority in the past, as what usually happens is I pack my workout clothes and then never actually put them on). In the spirit of trying something new, I went to BodyPump class on Saturday. This is a class I've been meaning to try but have always been a bit intimidated by. I think it's that scary-looking barbell. But on Saturday I did it, and I did pretty well. Of course, I still hurt a bit from the class two days later, but I finished it upright and without dropping the barbell, so I consider that to be an accomplishment.
I also made some time while on vacation to pick my oft-neglected cross-stitching project. I still estimate that it will take me about 20 years to finish it, but it was nice to do a little something with a needle and thread just the same.
I'm still contemplating what new thing I'll take on this week. I suspect it might involve a project in the kitchen (always a slightly scary place for me). Stay tuned.
I went to the Y twice during my four-day vacation in Florida. I think that in itself is quite a feat (and definitely not something I would have made a priority in the past, as what usually happens is I pack my workout clothes and then never actually put them on). In the spirit of trying something new, I went to BodyPump class on Saturday. This is a class I've been meaning to try but have always been a bit intimidated by. I think it's that scary-looking barbell. But on Saturday I did it, and I did pretty well. Of course, I still hurt a bit from the class two days later, but I finished it upright and without dropping the barbell, so I consider that to be an accomplishment.
I also made some time while on vacation to pick my oft-neglected cross-stitching project. I still estimate that it will take me about 20 years to finish it, but it was nice to do a little something with a needle and thread just the same.
I'm still contemplating what new thing I'll take on this week. I suspect it might involve a project in the kitchen (always a slightly scary place for me). Stay tuned.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgiving
Wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
~ Khalil Gibran
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Friday, November 19, 2010
In the In Between
For the last several months, I've spent a lot of time trying to focus on my priorities. The questions that led me to contemplate my next career move have really led to me asking myself, "What kind of life am I trying to create?"
The good news is that, after months of reflection, I think I'm able to answer that question. Perhaps my answer is best summed up in the visual map I created for myself and posted a while ago.
In its simplest form, my vision is a life filled with love and simplicity, family and friends, travel and nature, compassion and generosity, good health and balance, books and the arts, beauty and creativity. It is a life grounded in the things that are simplest and most important to me. It is a life that, when I envision it, makes me feel perfectly full and at peace.
Answering the question of what I want my life to be is simple. The more difficult question, of course, is how to make that vision a reality. Lately, I feel as though I am living a life in two worlds: the one which I am in, and the one which I am trying to create. Sometimes the chasm between the two seems daunting.
The biggest step in this journey, of course, will be the launch of my business. In the next several weeks, the planning phase of the process will most likely be complete. I take the beginnings of my business plan to a consultant at the Small Business Development Center on December 1, and unless I have some serious blind spots I have not yet foreseen, I anticipate that the time to launch will soon be at hand. And then, of course, the real work begins.
It has occurred to me, though, that waiting for this next chapter of my life to begin does not mean that I have to wait until my business is launched. The life I envision for myself is not just about work (no matter how much I might love that work). The simple things I crave are things I can start doing now. Most of them involve trying my hand at creating: baking bread, learning how to quilt, continuing to cross-stitch, picking up knitting again, making a pie from scratch. Others involve spending more time in nature, like going for a hike or visiting the beach, or doing more things to nurture my spirit, like taking a yoga class or beginning a meditation practice. They are small things, but for me, they are the things I am craving in earnest.
The thought of taking on all of these things at once--and, in a sense, reinventing myself--is a bit overwhelming. And so, my new goal (perhaps an early resolution) is to take on one new thing each week. It may only be a small thing--like popping in for a yoga class at my gym or finally making some homemade granola--but it will be something. One thing.
To help keep me on track, I'll post about my new thing each week. Perhaps, step by step, these little things will help me get closer to the life I want to create. My life will never be as picture perfect as the map hanging on my wall, and no doubt the vision will change as I move forward. But if I can even try to get closer to that vision, the In Between will hopefully feel less like an abyss and more like a bridge. Hopefully each step will be a good reminder to me that life is not about getting from Point A to Point B, but rather about enjoying the spectacular scenery and moments along the way. And that makes the In Between something to look forward to.
The good news is that, after months of reflection, I think I'm able to answer that question. Perhaps my answer is best summed up in the visual map I created for myself and posted a while ago.
In its simplest form, my vision is a life filled with love and simplicity, family and friends, travel and nature, compassion and generosity, good health and balance, books and the arts, beauty and creativity. It is a life grounded in the things that are simplest and most important to me. It is a life that, when I envision it, makes me feel perfectly full and at peace.Answering the question of what I want my life to be is simple. The more difficult question, of course, is how to make that vision a reality. Lately, I feel as though I am living a life in two worlds: the one which I am in, and the one which I am trying to create. Sometimes the chasm between the two seems daunting.
The biggest step in this journey, of course, will be the launch of my business. In the next several weeks, the planning phase of the process will most likely be complete. I take the beginnings of my business plan to a consultant at the Small Business Development Center on December 1, and unless I have some serious blind spots I have not yet foreseen, I anticipate that the time to launch will soon be at hand. And then, of course, the real work begins.
It has occurred to me, though, that waiting for this next chapter of my life to begin does not mean that I have to wait until my business is launched. The life I envision for myself is not just about work (no matter how much I might love that work). The simple things I crave are things I can start doing now. Most of them involve trying my hand at creating: baking bread, learning how to quilt, continuing to cross-stitch, picking up knitting again, making a pie from scratch. Others involve spending more time in nature, like going for a hike or visiting the beach, or doing more things to nurture my spirit, like taking a yoga class or beginning a meditation practice. They are small things, but for me, they are the things I am craving in earnest.
The thought of taking on all of these things at once--and, in a sense, reinventing myself--is a bit overwhelming. And so, my new goal (perhaps an early resolution) is to take on one new thing each week. It may only be a small thing--like popping in for a yoga class at my gym or finally making some homemade granola--but it will be something. One thing.
To help keep me on track, I'll post about my new thing each week. Perhaps, step by step, these little things will help me get closer to the life I want to create. My life will never be as picture perfect as the map hanging on my wall, and no doubt the vision will change as I move forward. But if I can even try to get closer to that vision, the In Between will hopefully feel less like an abyss and more like a bridge. Hopefully each step will be a good reminder to me that life is not about getting from Point A to Point B, but rather about enjoying the spectacular scenery and moments along the way. And that makes the In Between something to look forward to.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Wise Words
I am a worrywart of the highest order. I read these words recently and decided I need to keep them close. Should you have a worry of your own, I hope that they might also be a gentle reminder to you.
Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight. ~Benjamin Franklin
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
I'm Still Here (and I Have News!)
Someone pointed out to me today that I haven't posted in a month. I didn't realize that it had been that long, and I also didn't realize that anyone was even bothering to check anymore. So, if you're still here, thanks for not abandoning me in my time of absence.
The reason for my absence has been the classic one: I've been busy. Ridiculously busy. With what, you might ask?
As I hinted on posts several weeks ago, I've decided it's time for a change. I was keeping things mum for a while until I had time to do a little more research and give my ideas some more thought, but after mulling it over for almost three months, it appears the idea has stuck, so it appears that I'm moving forward. Ladies (and gents, if there are any), I've decided to finally strike out and start my own business.
I've been thinking about becoming a professional organizer for years. I bought a book about it in 2006 and started to do some research, but I ended up backing off the idea. I have continued, however, to secretly hoard every organizing article I've come across for years (all placed in plastic sleeves and tucked away in a binder organized by room and project type, of course). A big part of my reason for holding off was knowing that we were moving; it just didn't make sense to start a business and then have to start all over again when we relocated almost a thousand miles away. Even with that, though, I just don't think I was ready.
And then, in August, I came to the crossroads I posted about. I'm in the wrong work. No question about it. I'm good at what I do, but it drains and frustrates me. Even though there might be some area of social work out there just waiting for me to discover that it is a perfect fit, for now I've realized that it's time to take a step back.
At the suggestion of my fabulous friend Sally (who recently took an amazing step and launched Tilth, a business of her own), I picked up Martha Beck's books Finding Your Own North Star and Steering by Starlight. All I can say for what those books did for me is WOW. Through all the reading and exercises, the answer to "what next?" became obvious. In fact, it became impossible to ignore.
Even in social work school, my focus was on management. I am constantly analyzing the places I work for from a business perspective. I have always liked the idea of running my own show (just ask my sister), and I like even more the idea of working for myself, not answering to anyone, and not having anyone answer to me (let's hear it for sole proprietorship!). I want an opportunity in my work to be creative, to take more risks, and to have a direct impact. I want a chance to put what Dan calls my "organizational prowess" to work. I truly believe that calm, peaceful spaces that reflect our true selves help us live our dreams, and I want to help others create those. I want to share the good news of the joys of simplicity and really help get the message through that we are not our stuff. And, in the process, I'd like to create spaces that are beautiful and that encourage people to nurture themselves, their families, and the world around us.
The idea of this business--and the possibilities it holds--thrills me to my fingertips. A couple of months ago, when I was rattling on and on about my business plans, Dan just stopped, looked at me, and said, "You're like a totally different person." Noticing how my whole self just lit up, he said, "You look so beautiful." It's a little cheesy, I know, but it really is true that I feel like my true self--or what Martha Beck calls my North Star--is being tapped, and it feels so energizing. I've spent literally 15+ hours on weekends reading and working on my plans without even noticing the time go by.
Thankfully, my true self also includes a nice dose of practicality, so I'm not quitting my day job, and I'm doing a whole lot of research and planning and number crunching before I move things forward. I've been reading out the wazoo, starting a business plan, and learning all about the in and outs of business ownership. I've been attending seminars at my local Small Business Development Center, attending the local chapter meetings of the National Association of Professional Organizers, networking, and learning as much as I can about the profession. I've been doing a lot of thinking and daydreaming and writing things down on a notebook in the middle of the night. And all of this, my friends, is what has kept me away so long.
I have a long, busy road ahead of me. Even if my business is successful, it will be started small and part-time, and I'll have to juggle it while keeping my full-time job. It will be at least a year, if not much longer, before I can even think about doing this work full-time. I'll be starting out doing a lot of free and discounted organizing projects to build my portfolio, then hopefully I'll gradually build a small client base. If I finish with the planning and the number-crunching and the SBDC consulting and the business doesn't look viable, then I won't move forward. But I feel hopeful. Realistic, but hopeful. I'm so excited to see what this next chapter holds.
The reason for my absence has been the classic one: I've been busy. Ridiculously busy. With what, you might ask?
As I hinted on posts several weeks ago, I've decided it's time for a change. I was keeping things mum for a while until I had time to do a little more research and give my ideas some more thought, but after mulling it over for almost three months, it appears the idea has stuck, so it appears that I'm moving forward. Ladies (and gents, if there are any), I've decided to finally strike out and start my own business.
I've been thinking about becoming a professional organizer for years. I bought a book about it in 2006 and started to do some research, but I ended up backing off the idea. I have continued, however, to secretly hoard every organizing article I've come across for years (all placed in plastic sleeves and tucked away in a binder organized by room and project type, of course). A big part of my reason for holding off was knowing that we were moving; it just didn't make sense to start a business and then have to start all over again when we relocated almost a thousand miles away. Even with that, though, I just don't think I was ready.
And then, in August, I came to the crossroads I posted about. I'm in the wrong work. No question about it. I'm good at what I do, but it drains and frustrates me. Even though there might be some area of social work out there just waiting for me to discover that it is a perfect fit, for now I've realized that it's time to take a step back.
At the suggestion of my fabulous friend Sally (who recently took an amazing step and launched Tilth, a business of her own), I picked up Martha Beck's books Finding Your Own North Star and Steering by Starlight. All I can say for what those books did for me is WOW. Through all the reading and exercises, the answer to "what next?" became obvious. In fact, it became impossible to ignore.
Even in social work school, my focus was on management. I am constantly analyzing the places I work for from a business perspective. I have always liked the idea of running my own show (just ask my sister), and I like even more the idea of working for myself, not answering to anyone, and not having anyone answer to me (let's hear it for sole proprietorship!). I want an opportunity in my work to be creative, to take more risks, and to have a direct impact. I want a chance to put what Dan calls my "organizational prowess" to work. I truly believe that calm, peaceful spaces that reflect our true selves help us live our dreams, and I want to help others create those. I want to share the good news of the joys of simplicity and really help get the message through that we are not our stuff. And, in the process, I'd like to create spaces that are beautiful and that encourage people to nurture themselves, their families, and the world around us.
The idea of this business--and the possibilities it holds--thrills me to my fingertips. A couple of months ago, when I was rattling on and on about my business plans, Dan just stopped, looked at me, and said, "You're like a totally different person." Noticing how my whole self just lit up, he said, "You look so beautiful." It's a little cheesy, I know, but it really is true that I feel like my true self--or what Martha Beck calls my North Star--is being tapped, and it feels so energizing. I've spent literally 15+ hours on weekends reading and working on my plans without even noticing the time go by.
Thankfully, my true self also includes a nice dose of practicality, so I'm not quitting my day job, and I'm doing a whole lot of research and planning and number crunching before I move things forward. I've been reading out the wazoo, starting a business plan, and learning all about the in and outs of business ownership. I've been attending seminars at my local Small Business Development Center, attending the local chapter meetings of the National Association of Professional Organizers, networking, and learning as much as I can about the profession. I've been doing a lot of thinking and daydreaming and writing things down on a notebook in the middle of the night. And all of this, my friends, is what has kept me away so long.
I have a long, busy road ahead of me. Even if my business is successful, it will be started small and part-time, and I'll have to juggle it while keeping my full-time job. It will be at least a year, if not much longer, before I can even think about doing this work full-time. I'll be starting out doing a lot of free and discounted organizing projects to build my portfolio, then hopefully I'll gradually build a small client base. If I finish with the planning and the number-crunching and the SBDC consulting and the business doesn't look viable, then I won't move forward. But I feel hopeful. Realistic, but hopeful. I'm so excited to see what this next chapter holds.
Monday, October 4, 2010
A Reason to Celebrate
When I got back from my two-week trip to California, I knew stepping on the scale would be a little scary. I had pledged to eat my way through the state, and I certainly made good on my promise to myself. Nonetheless, I was unprepared for the number that I saw upon my return. My weight had been creeping up steadily ever since the previous fall, when my bouts of severe dizziness put exercise on hold for several months (the fact that I like to console myself in times of stress with ice cream probably did not help matters). Like most people, my weight has always gone up and down a bit, but I had a certain threshold in mind that I felt I could comfortably live with. I managed to stay below it for many months. And then, before I knew it, I had jumped right over the line.
Granted, I wasn't terribly overweight or anything, but I was definitely creeping into unhealthy territory. The problem with me--and with all the women in my family--is that we carry all the weight we gain around our tummies, which is the worst possible place to have it from a health perspective. My mom, a petite woman but still twenty pounds overweight, has recently been diagnosed with a fatty liver. I realized that, with a pound or two tacked on each year for the next twenty years, I was likely to end up in the same place.
Fortunately, around the same time, I also discovered that my insurance plan at work covers six nutritionist visits per year at 100% (I didn't even know that some insurance plans were capable of being this progressive!). I had my first visit with a nutritionist in May. Since then, I've been tracking everything I eat in an online system, meeting with my nutritionist every few weeks, and ramping up my exercise. I've had a ridiculous number of slip ups, including work potlucks and parties and stressful days culminating in the consumption of half a pizza. I had a couple of weeks when I plateaud so miserably that I thought I should just throw in the towel. Still, slowly but surely, I've managed to stay the course. Even though my weight loss per week has only been about half of that which is usually recommended, I've decided to just embrace my slower pace and stick with what's realistic for me.
This morning, I stood on the scale and saw a number that I never thought I would see in my adult life again. I'm pretty sure that I haven't weighed this little in at least five years. Last week I bought a pair of pants in a size I thought I'd left behind forever. The week before that, I put on a pair of jeans that I had relegated to the top shelf of my closet for fear I would never fit into them again. And my cholesterol--which reached a whopping 258 despite my vegetarian diet (thanks, genes!)--has dropped down to 171 with the help of my weight loss and flax oil supplements.
I've lost a little over 12 pounds. I have about five more to go to get to the high end of my goal, though I'm hoping to surpass that a bit. What's amazing to me is that, despite my usual impatience, I've managed to stick with this for almost six months, with weight loss that was so barely perceptible I wasn't even sure it was happening. I truly can't believe I've made it this far, and I've been able to do it without depriving myself of the things I really love (Chocolate? Yes, please).
I saw the nutritionist on Saturday, and we scheduled our next visit for December 4. It's the week after Thanksgiving--which is a little bit cruel--but when she said, "You might reach your goal by the next time I see you," I realized that she was right. And, as far as I'm concerned, any goal attainment is reason for celebration. And in this case, it's also a reason to justify buying new pants, which is just fine by me.
Granted, I wasn't terribly overweight or anything, but I was definitely creeping into unhealthy territory. The problem with me--and with all the women in my family--is that we carry all the weight we gain around our tummies, which is the worst possible place to have it from a health perspective. My mom, a petite woman but still twenty pounds overweight, has recently been diagnosed with a fatty liver. I realized that, with a pound or two tacked on each year for the next twenty years, I was likely to end up in the same place.
Fortunately, around the same time, I also discovered that my insurance plan at work covers six nutritionist visits per year at 100% (I didn't even know that some insurance plans were capable of being this progressive!). I had my first visit with a nutritionist in May. Since then, I've been tracking everything I eat in an online system, meeting with my nutritionist every few weeks, and ramping up my exercise. I've had a ridiculous number of slip ups, including work potlucks and parties and stressful days culminating in the consumption of half a pizza. I had a couple of weeks when I plateaud so miserably that I thought I should just throw in the towel. Still, slowly but surely, I've managed to stay the course. Even though my weight loss per week has only been about half of that which is usually recommended, I've decided to just embrace my slower pace and stick with what's realistic for me.
This morning, I stood on the scale and saw a number that I never thought I would see in my adult life again. I'm pretty sure that I haven't weighed this little in at least five years. Last week I bought a pair of pants in a size I thought I'd left behind forever. The week before that, I put on a pair of jeans that I had relegated to the top shelf of my closet for fear I would never fit into them again. And my cholesterol--which reached a whopping 258 despite my vegetarian diet (thanks, genes!)--has dropped down to 171 with the help of my weight loss and flax oil supplements.
I've lost a little over 12 pounds. I have about five more to go to get to the high end of my goal, though I'm hoping to surpass that a bit. What's amazing to me is that, despite my usual impatience, I've managed to stick with this for almost six months, with weight loss that was so barely perceptible I wasn't even sure it was happening. I truly can't believe I've made it this far, and I've been able to do it without depriving myself of the things I really love (Chocolate? Yes, please).
I saw the nutritionist on Saturday, and we scheduled our next visit for December 4. It's the week after Thanksgiving--which is a little bit cruel--but when she said, "You might reach your goal by the next time I see you," I realized that she was right. And, as far as I'm concerned, any goal attainment is reason for celebration. And in this case, it's also a reason to justify buying new pants, which is just fine by me.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sick
I've often been told that, when you move to a new place, you are more likely to get sick because you aren't yet immune to all of the unique viruses that a place holds. I don't know if that's true, but since moving here almost two years ago, I have managed to avoid every bug that has made its way around my office. That is, of course, until my sniffles that started last week developed into a full-scale, nasty cold over the weekend. I didn't leave the house from Friday evening until this morning--in fact, I barely left the couch. My days were spent in the company of hot tea, the humidifier, Kleenex, orange juice, and Vicks VapoRub.
I definitely wouldn't say that I like being sick. But I must admit that there is a little part of me that likes it at least a little bit. For one, it is the perfect excuse to do nothing. I shouldn't need an excuse to do nothing, but nonetheless I find myself secretly enjoying the guilt-free hours of endless television viewing. I must have watched eight episodes of "Brothers & Sisters" back to back on DVD. And a movie or two. And I finally got around to starting Ken Burns' PBS documentary on the National Parks, which was the sort of thing I didn't want to start watching until I could find the time to settle in for at least one of the six DVDs in the series.
In addition to granting me hours of viewing pleasure, my cold also gave me full permission to be nurtured and comforted and all about myself for two whole days. As much as I love tea, it has a different feeling when you are drinking it for comfort and healing. Just feeling the mug warm in my hands and noticing how much the hot liquid soothed my sore throat was so comforting. When Dan came home from the grocery store with orange juice and broth, my heart swelled at the thought of being cared for in such a small way. I took great pleasure in the thought that, with the free pass of a bad cold, there was nothing I had to do and nowhere I had to be. And I felt no guilt in my desire for ramen noodles. Because, when you're sick, you get to eat whatever you want.
When I get a cold, or have a migraine, or run into a series of dizzy spells (though I still shudder at the thought of what an awful time that was last year), I'm learning more and more that it's really an opportunity for me to care for myself with all of my attention. Though I could definitely do without the coughs and the sore throat and the throbbing headache, they are not-so-gentle reminders to me that sometimes, no matter what else is going on or where I think I have to be, I can give myself permission to stay in my pajamas all day, eat comfort food, take frequent naps, and be cared for by others without an ounce of guilt. I manage to do this sometimes without the help of a virus, but not often enough. And so, I have to thank my cold--just a little--for giving me that opportunity once more.
I definitely wouldn't say that I like being sick. But I must admit that there is a little part of me that likes it at least a little bit. For one, it is the perfect excuse to do nothing. I shouldn't need an excuse to do nothing, but nonetheless I find myself secretly enjoying the guilt-free hours of endless television viewing. I must have watched eight episodes of "Brothers & Sisters" back to back on DVD. And a movie or two. And I finally got around to starting Ken Burns' PBS documentary on the National Parks, which was the sort of thing I didn't want to start watching until I could find the time to settle in for at least one of the six DVDs in the series.
In addition to granting me hours of viewing pleasure, my cold also gave me full permission to be nurtured and comforted and all about myself for two whole days. As much as I love tea, it has a different feeling when you are drinking it for comfort and healing. Just feeling the mug warm in my hands and noticing how much the hot liquid soothed my sore throat was so comforting. When Dan came home from the grocery store with orange juice and broth, my heart swelled at the thought of being cared for in such a small way. I took great pleasure in the thought that, with the free pass of a bad cold, there was nothing I had to do and nowhere I had to be. And I felt no guilt in my desire for ramen noodles. Because, when you're sick, you get to eat whatever you want.
When I get a cold, or have a migraine, or run into a series of dizzy spells (though I still shudder at the thought of what an awful time that was last year), I'm learning more and more that it's really an opportunity for me to care for myself with all of my attention. Though I could definitely do without the coughs and the sore throat and the throbbing headache, they are not-so-gentle reminders to me that sometimes, no matter what else is going on or where I think I have to be, I can give myself permission to stay in my pajamas all day, eat comfort food, take frequent naps, and be cared for by others without an ounce of guilt. I manage to do this sometimes without the help of a virus, but not often enough. And so, I have to thank my cold--just a little--for giving me that opportunity once more.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Welcoming Fall
Today is one of my favorite days of the year. A couple of weeks ago, I literally jumped for joy at the arrival of the September issues of my magazines with their shiny red apples and comfort food on the covers. Despite today's strange juxtaposition of changing leaves and a high of 87, I'm going to do my best to savor the beginning of the season and all that it brings.
I feel as though, every fall, I look up and notice the leaves at their golden peak, and then before I know it, they are crunchy and brown under my feet. As crisp fall days turn to bitterly cold winter ones each year, I often realize that I didn't really stop to notice the change. I'm constantly working trying to develop a better sense of awareness. One of my deepest fears is that I will miss my life. As much as I struggle to slow down, I still seek more and more each day to really experience the world, to stop and breathe, to notice the small things, and to, as Thoreau says, "suck out all the marrow of life."
My task for this fall? To really notice the changing leaves this season. To--quite literally--look at them every day to see how they've transformed. To notice not only the bright red leaves that demand attention at the height of the season, but also the brownish green ones that hang from the trees outside my door, the orange-tipped ones on the bushes I pass while I'm out for a morning run, and the brown-speckled ones that are not as colorful but no less beautiful. Perhaps really noticing them will give me just one more reason to appreciate this crisp, cozy time of year and to feel grateful that I didn't miss it.
I feel as though, every fall, I look up and notice the leaves at their golden peak, and then before I know it, they are crunchy and brown under my feet. As crisp fall days turn to bitterly cold winter ones each year, I often realize that I didn't really stop to notice the change. I'm constantly working trying to develop a better sense of awareness. One of my deepest fears is that I will miss my life. As much as I struggle to slow down, I still seek more and more each day to really experience the world, to stop and breathe, to notice the small things, and to, as Thoreau says, "suck out all the marrow of life."
My task for this fall? To really notice the changing leaves this season. To--quite literally--look at them every day to see how they've transformed. To notice not only the bright red leaves that demand attention at the height of the season, but also the brownish green ones that hang from the trees outside my door, the orange-tipped ones on the bushes I pass while I'm out for a morning run, and the brown-speckled ones that are not as colorful but no less beautiful. Perhaps really noticing them will give me just one more reason to appreciate this crisp, cozy time of year and to feel grateful that I didn't miss it.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Purged
Purged this evening. . . .
1 skirt
6 pairs of shoes
16 shirts
2 button-downs
3 sweaters
2 sweatshirts
3 new tops with tags still on that I've realized I don't really love (and will therefore be returned)
one old coffee press that's been waiting for a new home for ages
Dan's old iPod (off to be recycled)
an odd-smelling candle I received as a gift that I will never use
old magazines awaiting pickup tomorrow morning in the recycling bin
the guilty/naggy feeling I got every time I looked at these things and knew I needed to get rid of them
Aaaah.
1 skirt
6 pairs of shoes
16 shirts
2 button-downs
3 sweaters
2 sweatshirts
3 new tops with tags still on that I've realized I don't really love (and will therefore be returned)
one old coffee press that's been waiting for a new home for ages
Dan's old iPod (off to be recycled)
an odd-smelling candle I received as a gift that I will never use
old magazines awaiting pickup tomorrow morning in the recycling bin
the guilty/naggy feeling I got every time I looked at these things and knew I needed to get rid of them
Aaaah.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Clearing the Way for Something New
Being the HSP that I am, I am acutely aware of how my environment affects me. I have little tolerance for crowds or big messes or cigarette smoke or fluorescent lighting. A couple of weekends ago, I looked at my office and realized I had little tolerance for it, either.
Now, by most standards, my office was just fine. It was relatively neat and organized. But the energy just felt wrong.
The office was the room in our house that kind of became the afterthought once we moved in. I never got a light bulb into that desk lamp(!). The printer has been broken (it's one of two that we have), and it's time for me to accept that it's not really worth fixing. The shredder underneath my desk is ugly and always falls to the side between the desk and the wall. There was so much stuff on my desk that I had no room to work. And while I love, love the drawing above my desk that my sister drew ten years ago and which I insisted on having, I realized that a picture of a sad, poverty-stricken woman holding her baby is probably not the energy I want in a place where I work.
Having finally taken a little time to pinpoint what was bothering me, I set about creating a new space that would make me feel more energized and inspired to work. I decided the focal point above my desk should be the visual map that I recently created. As soon as I finished clearing off the space, added a few pretty things and some favorite books to my desk, and framed a favorite quote of mine to put in a prominent place for inspiration, I suddenly felt a shift. I tidied up some other things in the room, added a hanging plant for some life-giving energy, and now my desk has gone from being my least favorite place in the house to one of my new favorite spots (and all I spent was $10 for the plant, which now hangs in the opposite corner behind my chair).
Coincidentally, less than three hours after rearranging my desk, I came across a section in Steering by Starlight where Martha Beck recommends changing your space in order to help shape your life. I truly believe that even a little change like this has brought positive energy into my life and is helping me break old habits and forge ahead in my search for my new self.
My next project? My closet. This week I realized that some of my clothes and shoes a) make feel bad when I see them because they don't fit right/I never wear them/were an ill-advised purchase or b) don't really reflect who I want to be. And so, tonight, I move on to one of my favorite activities--the purging of the clothes. Here's to making way for something (or someone!) new.
Now, by most standards, my office was just fine. It was relatively neat and organized. But the energy just felt wrong.
The office was the room in our house that kind of became the afterthought once we moved in. I never got a light bulb into that desk lamp(!). The printer has been broken (it's one of two that we have), and it's time for me to accept that it's not really worth fixing. The shredder underneath my desk is ugly and always falls to the side between the desk and the wall. There was so much stuff on my desk that I had no room to work. And while I love, love the drawing above my desk that my sister drew ten years ago and which I insisted on having, I realized that a picture of a sad, poverty-stricken woman holding her baby is probably not the energy I want in a place where I work.Having finally taken a little time to pinpoint what was bothering me, I set about creating a new space that would make me feel more energized and inspired to work. I decided the focal point above my desk should be the visual map that I recently created. As soon as I finished clearing off the space, added a few pretty things and some favorite books to my desk, and framed a favorite quote of mine to put in a prominent place for inspiration, I suddenly felt a shift. I tidied up some other things in the room, added a hanging plant for some life-giving energy, and now my desk has gone from being my least favorite place in the house to one of my new favorite spots (and all I spent was $10 for the plant, which now hangs in the opposite corner behind my chair).
Coincidentally, less than three hours after rearranging my desk, I came across a section in Steering by Starlight where Martha Beck recommends changing your space in order to help shape your life. I truly believe that even a little change like this has brought positive energy into my life and is helping me break old habits and forge ahead in my search for my new self.My next project? My closet. This week I realized that some of my clothes and shoes a) make feel bad when I see them because they don't fit right/I never wear them/were an ill-advised purchase or b) don't really reflect who I want to be. And so, tonight, I move on to one of my favorite activities--the purging of the clothes. Here's to making way for something (or someone!) new.
Monday, September 6, 2010
A Visual Guide
In my efforts to figure out what's next, I've been trying to get to the core of what matters most to me, what I get my energy from, and what I envision as the highest priorities in my life. As a visual person, my first impulse was to create something I could continually look at to reflect this--and to help me chart the course. About a week ago, I spent a Saturday afternoon with some old magazines, some double-sided tape, and a piece of poster board. I searched for anything that I found to be beautiful, inspiring, a reflection of my deepest values and interests, or a representation of the direction in which I'd like my life to go. Here is the result.
Just looking at it makes me feel so inspired and peaceful. . . and takes me one step closer to transforming my vision into something tangible.
Just looking at it makes me feel so inspired and peaceful. . . and takes me one step closer to transforming my vision into something tangible.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A New Perspective on Failure
Not long ago, while talking to my sister about my work and career, I remember telling her, "I feel like a failure." For my Type A, perfectionist, always-likes-to-be-good-at-things self, this was a painful revelation, but a true one nonetheless.
What has baffled me is that I haven't really been able to figure out why I seem to be failing at the things I try to do professionally. By failing, I do not mean that I do not do my job well--on the contrary, I am quite good at what I do, and I think my employers would agree. But I have failed at doing work that feels right or that makes me feel valued. I have failed to pick the right jobs--even though, on the surface, they initially seemed like exactly what I wanted. And despite the fact that I do my job well, I have failed at making the professional advances I thought I'd have achieved by now. Somehow, no matter how carefully I plan or how hard I work, my professional life seems to have been one spectacular string of bad luck, bad choices, or a combination of both. I've often wondered, What in the world is going on here? What do I keep doing wrong?
Recently, I came across something that really helped me rethink this string of failures and where they might be coming from. In the midst of my journey to a new path, I've been spending a lot of time reading Martha Beck (whose work I highly recommend). In her book Steering by Starlight, she includes this passage from Kabir, a 14th century poet:
What has baffled me is that I haven't really been able to figure out why I seem to be failing at the things I try to do professionally. By failing, I do not mean that I do not do my job well--on the contrary, I am quite good at what I do, and I think my employers would agree. But I have failed at doing work that feels right or that makes me feel valued. I have failed to pick the right jobs--even though, on the surface, they initially seemed like exactly what I wanted. And despite the fact that I do my job well, I have failed at making the professional advances I thought I'd have achieved by now. Somehow, no matter how carefully I plan or how hard I work, my professional life seems to have been one spectacular string of bad luck, bad choices, or a combination of both. I've often wondered, What in the world is going on here? What do I keep doing wrong?
Recently, I came across something that really helped me rethink this string of failures and where they might be coming from. In the midst of my journey to a new path, I've been spending a lot of time reading Martha Beck (whose work I highly recommend). In her book Steering by Starlight, she includes this passage from Kabir, a 14th century poet:
The truth is that you turned away yourself, and decided to go into the dark alone.That last line really resonated with me, as though Kabir was speaking directly to me across centuries. This string of failures for which I've felt bad and blamed myself may in fact have nothing to do with my capabilities. It may, in fact, be no more than a result of me turning away from myself and my inner voice--including the voice that's been telling me, for some time, that I was on the wrong path. Knowing that my "failures" are not, in fact, some great disappointment on my part, but rather a way of getting me back on track, makes me feel a lot better. And a lot more hopeful.
Now you are tangled up in others, and forgotten what you once knew.
And that's why everything you do has some sort of weird failure in it.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Magic Gardens
Philadelphia's Magic Gardens has been on my list of places to visit for over a year now. Thankfully, when my friend Sara came to visit in July, it was at the top of her list of things to do. Taking a stroll through a place so full of creative energy was well worth a little time in the summer heat!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Crossroads
For the last few years, my life has been so full and blessed that at times I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. Sometimes I can't believe that I have so many tremendous things in my life all at once: an amazing partner, incredible friends, two kitties who make me laugh every day. A loving and supportive family. A warm, caring church community. Books and music and art and nature. I could go on and on about all of the little miracles in my life.Despite all of this, one area of my life has been slowly nagging away at me, and that is my work life. I keep finding myself in jobs that aren't the right fit for me, cause me tremendous stress, aren't aligned with my values, and just never work out the way I hoped. All jobs have their ups and downs, but for me, it's been more than that. . . I just can't seem to make things fit. I keep ending up in toxic environments, in jobs that force me to be someone I'm not, in jobs that seem to be headed nowhere. While I have always been an ambitious person--and have generally succeeded at most things I've tried professionally--I find that I have little ambition, or that my efforts to advance to more meaningful opportunities never pan out. I've felt overworked, undervalued, and underutilized, and on top of all that, I don't really enjoy what I do.
For the last year or so, it's occurred to me that perhaps I am at a crossroads--a big one. I accepted my current position with enthusiasm, but after I started, I realized almost immediately that it wasn't right for me. Since then, I've been trying to figure out where else I'd like to be. . . and the answers have never been clear. I look at job postings, research organizations, think about career options in the social work field, but I've never really come up with the one thing that seems to fit. Perhaps I'm just discouraged or burned out, but when I started in this profession, I had so much optimism and passion. I'm finding myself getting cynical and tired. That is not a good place for anyone to be, and it is especially not a good place for a social worker to be.
This has, quite naturally, led me into a bit of a crisis. For starters, I've invested a lot of time--and money--in my career. I care deeply about social justice and helping people. Having work that makes a difference in people's lives is paramount to me. Social workers are some of the most inspiring, amazing people that I know, and I consider myself lucky to call them my colleagues.
And yet, despite all of these things, I can't seem to find the place in social work that feels like the right one. I've been trying on its hats for many years and have never found the one that fits. I'm starting to wonder if I will ever find the right one. Even more, I'm starting to wonder if maybe this career is not for me. It's taken a really long time--and a lot of courage--for me to admit that.
After pushing past my denial and justifications and finally admitting this to myself, I find now that I'm at a bit of a crossroads. For the past few months, it's been clear to me what I need to leave behind, but I've been unsure how to move forward, or where to go next. Perhaps there are other avenues in my career that I have yet to explore, or perhaps it's time to look in a different direction altogether.
I've been thinking about this a lot in recent weeks, and though I think I'm getting closer to the answer, I'm not quite ready to share it openly yet. I'm sure I'll be processing a lot of my journey here from time to time in the coming weeks and months. I hope you'll stick around to share it with me. . . and stay tuned to see where the road may take me next.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Embracing My Inner Country Girl
Earlier this month, I had the pleasure of traveling to North Carolina to visit my sister. I was looking forward to not only spending time with family, but also visiting the fine city of Asheville, home to all things liberal and earthy and generally granola. I savored all the vegan and vegetarian food options, the abundance of local art, and the general hippie vibe. What I did not expect--at all--was how much I would enjoy my time tucked away in the middle of nowhere.
Granted, I was hesitant at first. The house where my sister and Garrett live (they are renters and the house is owned by a friend) is tucked away at the end of a gravel road, surrounded by neighbors who have their share of scary moments (sounds of shotguns, anyone?). When we were first driving there, I called my sister to make sure we were going the right way after we passed a falling-down barn and ventured down a road that seemed to lead to nowhere. It was a bit of a transition, to say the least, from Philadelphia to gravel roads.
I have always loved the mountains; I will take them over the beach almost any day. Still, after giving myself some time to settle in, I was surprised by how much I really felt at home in my sister's little house tucked away among the trees. Yes, we had to drive 20 minutes to get a cup of coffee. And yes, in the winter my sister and her husband might sometimes have to walk from the main road to their house because there is no plowing of their gravel road. Nonetheless, I felt so peaceful and at home there. The cabin is so charming, having been lovingly restored by Missy and Garrett's friend Heather, who owns the house. So much about it encourages you to enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like the sounds of crickets with the windows open at night.
During our visit, we did so many simple, lovely things. We sat on the porch and talked. We swung on the hammock. We ate fresh vegetables Garrett grew on the farm where he works. We ate watermelon outside, the juice dripping down our arms as we spit the seeds into the yard.
We did our fair share of outdoor activities, too, including tubing down the Green River and taking turns shooting targets with a BB gun. On the last day of my visit, my sister and I went hiking (in the rain, no less!) up to Sam Nob.
On one of our last days there, I woke and looked out the window to see the sun coming up behind the mountains. I moved out onto the porch, sitting in the stillness of the morning, just trying to take it all in. In the last couple of years, I've been having a bit of naturelust, though I haven't always done a good job doing much about it. I've gone on a few hikes, have been trying to spend more time outside, and made a point to visit Yosemite and the redwoods during my California travels, but my trip reminded me just how much a part of me is longing to be more connected to the great outdoors.
I've never thought of myself as a country girl--or even an outdoorsy one at that. I have never been athletic. I don't do hot weather. I don't like when my hair frizzes in the rain. I've never owned a single piece of outdoor gear. I am scared of a wide variety of critters. It occurs to me, though, that perhaps I haven't given myself enough credit. Maybe it's time to embrace another side of myself. Maybe I should listen more to the voice that's telling me to take to the hills. Maybe I'm the girl who climbs mountains after all.
Granted, I was hesitant at first. The house where my sister and Garrett live (they are renters and the house is owned by a friend) is tucked away at the end of a gravel road, surrounded by neighbors who have their share of scary moments (sounds of shotguns, anyone?). When we were first driving there, I called my sister to make sure we were going the right way after we passed a falling-down barn and ventured down a road that seemed to lead to nowhere. It was a bit of a transition, to say the least, from Philadelphia to gravel roads.
I have always loved the mountains; I will take them over the beach almost any day. Still, after giving myself some time to settle in, I was surprised by how much I really felt at home in my sister's little house tucked away among the trees. Yes, we had to drive 20 minutes to get a cup of coffee. And yes, in the winter my sister and her husband might sometimes have to walk from the main road to their house because there is no plowing of their gravel road. Nonetheless, I felt so peaceful and at home there. The cabin is so charming, having been lovingly restored by Missy and Garrett's friend Heather, who owns the house. So much about it encourages you to enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like the sounds of crickets with the windows open at night.
During our visit, we did so many simple, lovely things. We sat on the porch and talked. We swung on the hammock. We ate fresh vegetables Garrett grew on the farm where he works. We ate watermelon outside, the juice dripping down our arms as we spit the seeds into the yard.
We did our fair share of outdoor activities, too, including tubing down the Green River and taking turns shooting targets with a BB gun. On the last day of my visit, my sister and I went hiking (in the rain, no less!) up to Sam Nob.
On one of our last days there, I woke and looked out the window to see the sun coming up behind the mountains. I moved out onto the porch, sitting in the stillness of the morning, just trying to take it all in. In the last couple of years, I've been having a bit of naturelust, though I haven't always done a good job doing much about it. I've gone on a few hikes, have been trying to spend more time outside, and made a point to visit Yosemite and the redwoods during my California travels, but my trip reminded me just how much a part of me is longing to be more connected to the great outdoors.I've never thought of myself as a country girl--or even an outdoorsy one at that. I have never been athletic. I don't do hot weather. I don't like when my hair frizzes in the rain. I've never owned a single piece of outdoor gear. I am scared of a wide variety of critters. It occurs to me, though, that perhaps I haven't given myself enough credit. Maybe it's time to embrace another side of myself. Maybe I should listen more to the voice that's telling me to take to the hills. Maybe I'm the girl who climbs mountains after all.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Tilth
As many of you already know, my friend Sally rocks. As it happens, she has taken her awesomeness to even greater heights by converting her tremendous talents into a bonafide business.
Sally has been helping countless people--including myself--deal with food intolerances, health issues, and diet changes for years. She is able to craft food in the most sensational ways, and now she's out to help even more people live a life of abundance, even with food restrictions.
Check out her (gorgeous!) new website here. If you know of anyone with food restrictions who could benefit from her services, regardless of where they live, please send them to Sally's site!
Sally has been helping countless people--including myself--deal with food intolerances, health issues, and diet changes for years. She is able to craft food in the most sensational ways, and now she's out to help even more people live a life of abundance, even with food restrictions.
Check out her (gorgeous!) new website here. If you know of anyone with food restrictions who could benefit from her services, regardless of where they live, please send them to Sally's site!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
A Note of Praise for My Sister
Should you have somehow missed this piece of information, let me make it very clear that I love my sister. I mean, love her. Our relationship is a delightful mix of best friend, soul mate, and sister. There's also a pinch of mother-daughter, as in, there are times when I couldn't be prouder of her if I was her mama. (And also as in, if you mess with her I will make sure it is the end of you, but luckily this post will focus on the I'm-so-proud side.)
A couple weeks ago, Dan and I traveled to Asheville to celebrate Seester's graduation from her veterinary technician program. This was a grand accomplishment on many counts. For starters, during her two years in the program, she managed to work full-time, volunteer, plan a wedding, and still graduate. This, in itself, is an amazing feat. I have never witnessed anyone with a busier schedule than that of my sister during her two years in school. Every time I called her, it became a game of, "Where's Missy?," as there was never telling where she might be. And yet, despite all of this, she still came out with the highest GPA in her class and was accepted into one of the most prestigious vet tech internships in the country (yes, that's right, here's the bragging mom coming out).
For these things only, abundant applause is due. But perhaps even more applause-worthy is the journey she has embarked upon. My sister has always been an animal lover in the truest form. My entire family always thought she would work with animals, but as happens sometimes to all of us, she ran into bumps in the road that made her doubt herself. Slowly, but surely, she found the courage to drown out the noise, listen to herself, and make her way back to what she really wanted. Sometimes that is the hardest thing to do of all, and yet she put one foot in front of the other, never looking back.
And now? She is more confident in her work than I have ever seen her. She approaches her work with such passion and humor and integrity. She's an unbelievable advocate for animals. Everything she does, from drawing blood from a terrified cat to making sure a dog leaves this world with dignity and in peace, is infused with such courage and compassion. When you can patiently deal with an overbearing pet owner, brush a cat's teeth with the utmost care, and endure a nasty dog bite while still having compassion for the dog all in the same day, you are a pretty amazing individual. And my sister is, indeed, just that.
Congratulations to you, Seester, on a job well done, and on all the amazing work you continue to do. You have become such a confident and accomplished woman. I'm so very proud of you!
For these things only, abundant applause is due. But perhaps even more applause-worthy is the journey she has embarked upon. My sister has always been an animal lover in the truest form. My entire family always thought she would work with animals, but as happens sometimes to all of us, she ran into bumps in the road that made her doubt herself. Slowly, but surely, she found the courage to drown out the noise, listen to herself, and make her way back to what she really wanted. Sometimes that is the hardest thing to do of all, and yet she put one foot in front of the other, never looking back.
And now? She is more confident in her work than I have ever seen her. She approaches her work with such passion and humor and integrity. She's an unbelievable advocate for animals. Everything she does, from drawing blood from a terrified cat to making sure a dog leaves this world with dignity and in peace, is infused with such courage and compassion. When you can patiently deal with an overbearing pet owner, brush a cat's teeth with the utmost care, and endure a nasty dog bite while still having compassion for the dog all in the same day, you are a pretty amazing individual. And my sister is, indeed, just that.
Congratulations to you, Seester, on a job well done, and on all the amazing work you continue to do. You have become such a confident and accomplished woman. I'm so very proud of you!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
A Little Something Beautiful
Sorry for the absence of late. My life seems to be a bit in flux right now, and I just haven't felt inspired to post. But today I came across a lovely thought that I wanted to share. It's just a little reminder to me to stop and just breathe.
The sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do.
~ Galileo Galilei
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Roots
My entire adult life, I've been looking forward to the next move. It's been one year here, a couple years there, and then on to the next place. The longest I've planted roots anywhere since undergrad was four years in St. Louis, where I managed to stay for an additional two years after finishing up grad school. In between was a year in Wilmington here, a year in Nashville there, and some time back home with the parents in Georgia. Even growing up, I knew I was unlikely to stay in the same area once I finished high school. It seems that, as long as I've been old enough to decide where I live, any place I've called home has been a temporary stop.Philadelphia is the first place I've ever lived that I knew I wasn't planning to leave. When Dan and I decided it was time to leave St. Louis behind, we agreed that we were weary of the moves. For us, Philly was the perfect choice--solid job opportunities, amazing history, beautiful architecture, great culture and food, and an opportunity to live on the East Coast in a big but relatively affordable city. The fact that Dan had nostalgia for Philadelphia didn't hurt, as he was born here and spent many a summer in Philly visiting his grandmother, munching on soft pretzels, and being treated to oversized drinks at the Philadelphia Zoo.
Not long after we moved into our first apartment in Philly, we knew we were unlikely to stay in the same neighborhood. Like so many moves, the first place you live is rarely where you stay once you have more opportunities to explore. As we learned more about the area, we spent our first year here thinking about where we'd go next. And so there I was, once again, looking for that next move.
And now, here we've been for six months in the little town of Media, PA. The town that we think will be our last stop. Though we always imagined ourselves living in the heart of the city, I've found that the slower, smaller pace here suits me so much better. We have all the things that matter the most to us: walkability, local businesses, a feeling of community, access to public transportation, a liberal streak, and a "downtown" that makes everything feel centralized instead of sprawled. The people are friendly. The town is big on the arts. There's a festival or event almost every weekend, and a farmers market every Thursday. And the fact that they close the main road in summertime and bring tables out into the street for "Dining Under the Stars" just warms my little heart.
For the first time--ever--it seems that I'm going to stay. And lately, all I can think about is wanting to really become a part of this place. I'm so ready to belong to a community, and one that I know I can truly become a part of for the long haul. The other day, while I was out running, someone from my church passed me on the street and gave me an enthusiastic wave. My excitement was palpable: This is my town! I see people I know when I'm out running!
Though it's happening slowly, I can't wait until we have the familiarity that only comes with having been in a place over time--that familiarity with a place that I haven't had in years. I can't wait until we can really get to know our neighbors. Until we have the festivals that we go to every year, and the local business owners that we chat with while popping in to buy a greeting card or a bagel (because Media is a place where that sort of thing actually happens). Until we have the places that we start to call "ours." Until we have memories that can only be connected with our own hometown. Until we buy a house. Until we plant a garden in our own backyard. Until I can really sink my fingers into the earth of this place.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
A Good Laugh
This article from The Onion is one of the funniest things I've read in a long time.
Seashells Transform Suburban Bathroom Into Tropical Hideaway
Seashells Transform Suburban Bathroom Into Tropical Hideaway
I could have done without the last line of the article (pretty high up on the ick scale, and it would have been funny without it), but still, hilarious!Formerly the Watson's bathroom, now an enchanted portal to the gleaming white sand beaches of Bora-Bora.
WOODMERE, OH—-A wicker basket filled with seashells and placed on top of a toilet tank has magically transformed Dale and Paula Watson's suburban bathroom into a serene tropical oasis, sources reported Thursday.
"I can't believe the difference adding those seashells made," said Paula Watson, who had somehow been transported from a beige, run-of-the-mill bathroom to an unforgettable island paradise thousands of miles from the Greater Cleveland area. "Every time I walk in here now it's like, 'Wow, where am I? Cancún?'"
Read the rest here.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Last CA Post
Just these last few miscellaneous pics from our trip . . . .
A tiny-looking me next to Mission Santa Barbara
A view from the car as a storm was approaching. As we drove, the topography was constantly changing in the most amazing way!
A bakery around the corner from our hotel in Cambria. I felt very French with my chocolate-covered pastry for breakfast!
Some of California's beautiful green hills
My first-ever artichoke soup!
Dan and I took a break from sight-seeing to hit the arcade. Here he is getting hard-core!
A very cold, very windy beach (and yet still beautiful)
Dan and I waiting for our tour to start outside the Winchester Mystery House (and looking rather cute, if I do say so myself). :)
A tiny-looking me next to Mission Santa Barbara
A view from the car as a storm was approaching. As we drove, the topography was constantly changing in the most amazing way!
A bakery around the corner from our hotel in Cambria. I felt very French with my chocolate-covered pastry for breakfast!
Some of California's beautiful green hills
My first-ever artichoke soup!
Dan and I took a break from sight-seeing to hit the arcade. Here he is getting hard-core!
A very cold, very windy beach (and yet still beautiful)
Dan and I waiting for our tour to start outside the Winchester Mystery House (and looking rather cute, if I do say so myself). :)
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