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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:

The truth is that you turned away yourself, and decided to go into the dark alone.

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.

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.

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!