Ah, the speed bumps of life. We shouldn't be surprised by them, but they seem to come out of nowhere, at least for me. And so today, I find that getting back on my true path involves taking one of those dirt-road short-cuts of which I'm so fond (although I know they are a little harder on the car!) I can see where I'm heading, and I know I'm on the right road, but wow, is this stretch bumpy! The decision I need to make now is whether to press on ahead or whether to turn around and try to get to my destination via an unknown, long, meandering paved road.
I like this metaphor, so I'll keep going! Were this a real road, with a real destination in sight, I can almost picture in my mind who, of my friends and acquaintances, would say, "I'm outta here. This is impassible. I'm going around." I can also picture a very few people who would say, "Well, I'm almost there, and it's going to be just as bad turning around. I'll just keep going." Finally, I can picture some who would stop at the edge of the pavement and call to me to turn around and come back, that it's not safe, it's hard on the car, I'll break something, etc.
A very similar situation exists anytime anyone takes off down a new path or road in life. If it's a new and different road, it will be very difficult, if not impossible, to know what the conditions are up ahead. There has to be some trust in the map and in the road signs, that this indeed is the quickest way to the destination. There will always be those believe that pavement represents infinite security, even if the smoother road doesn't really head in the right direction...or turns out to be crumbling....and who will call out "Come back! This is a much better road, or at least a less bad one!" The fact of driving on pavement becomes more important than reaching the destination.
I'm finding that by doing a 180-degree turn in my life, I have left most of my friends and acquaintances back on the paved road, and that can make for some lonely moments. As part of my journey along this sometimes-bumpy shortcut, I'm learning to keep my eyes open for fellow or potential travel-mates, those who have the same sense of impatience with the long and winding paved road that I do, and those who are able to look down the short-cut and say, "It definitely has some bad spots, but it's do-able." There are fewer of those fellow life-travelers out there, but I will find them, and they are precious to me.
Beep! Beep!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Unity or manners?
This is a little off my self-imposed beaten path, but Unity Day is on my mind, and this is a potentially less incendiary venue than other social media for committing my thoughts to writing. When the children brought home notes from school a couple weeks ago, urging them to wear orange on a specific day as a sign of....support(?) for....anti-bullying, I was equal parts annoyed and confused.
Confusion first, and on several fronts. First, my well-established trope that bullying became the new word for ill-mannered or ill-bred, after those descriptors fell out of fashion. And bullying appears to be short-hand for "I disagree with you" or "I don't like what you said". Children know that adults get all excited when they start tossing around the b-word, and most children are smart enough to use that to their personal advantages. So, the word appears to be a poor vehicle for conveying what appear to be good intentions. Ill manners should be addressed.
Second, I'm confused that only one day out of the year should be devoted to celebrating the imminent demise of/setting aside of/condemning poor manners. Adaptive social intercourse can hardly be taught or meaningfully modeled in one day. What about the other three-hundred and sixty-four? If I really want to punch someone, should I just wait for tomorrow, when Unity Day is over? Or is every day Unity Day?
Third, who exactly is in charge of leading the crusade toward civility? Those of us of a certain age have heard that "good manners begin at home" (no burping at the table, etc) but the race by education in general to both be in loco parentis and to "get parents more involved" leads inevitably to some clashes over turf and over parenting styles (the schools' version and the parents' version). Finger-pointing, sometimes with different fingers, is fashionable, but hardly addresses the question.
My annoyance comes from being solicited, and having the children solicited, to signal their approval of the aforementioned flawed thinking by wearing orange. If they do not have or choose to or remember to wear orange, is that bullying by omission, by disrespecting the idea of anti-bullying? Follow this line of thought, and you will be in a Gordian knot in no time. I also do not respect the naive assumption that by creating a behavioral vacuum ("Don't do that") that an adaptive or pro-social behavior automatically fills the void. The other half of "Don't bully", whatever subjective and personal definition one attaches to "bullying", is "Do this instead." As good manners are equal parts rehearsed behavior and generalizing concepts of what constitutes good manners, this is hardly a one-day project, nor is it solely a school-based project.
Children, adolescents and adults all reflect what they have practiced most, or what they have been suddenly and meaningfully encouraged to do. Most of this comes from home, so perhaps encouraging entire families to wear orange all the time would have a more meaningful impact on raising the societal social bar.
Confusion first, and on several fronts. First, my well-established trope that bullying became the new word for ill-mannered or ill-bred, after those descriptors fell out of fashion. And bullying appears to be short-hand for "I disagree with you" or "I don't like what you said". Children know that adults get all excited when they start tossing around the b-word, and most children are smart enough to use that to their personal advantages. So, the word appears to be a poor vehicle for conveying what appear to be good intentions. Ill manners should be addressed.
Second, I'm confused that only one day out of the year should be devoted to celebrating the imminent demise of/setting aside of/condemning poor manners. Adaptive social intercourse can hardly be taught or meaningfully modeled in one day. What about the other three-hundred and sixty-four? If I really want to punch someone, should I just wait for tomorrow, when Unity Day is over? Or is every day Unity Day?
Third, who exactly is in charge of leading the crusade toward civility? Those of us of a certain age have heard that "good manners begin at home" (no burping at the table, etc) but the race by education in general to both be in loco parentis and to "get parents more involved" leads inevitably to some clashes over turf and over parenting styles (the schools' version and the parents' version). Finger-pointing, sometimes with different fingers, is fashionable, but hardly addresses the question.
My annoyance comes from being solicited, and having the children solicited, to signal their approval of the aforementioned flawed thinking by wearing orange. If they do not have or choose to or remember to wear orange, is that bullying by omission, by disrespecting the idea of anti-bullying? Follow this line of thought, and you will be in a Gordian knot in no time. I also do not respect the naive assumption that by creating a behavioral vacuum ("Don't do that") that an adaptive or pro-social behavior automatically fills the void. The other half of "Don't bully", whatever subjective and personal definition one attaches to "bullying", is "Do this instead." As good manners are equal parts rehearsed behavior and generalizing concepts of what constitutes good manners, this is hardly a one-day project, nor is it solely a school-based project.
Children, adolescents and adults all reflect what they have practiced most, or what they have been suddenly and meaningfully encouraged to do. Most of this comes from home, so perhaps encouraging entire families to wear orange all the time would have a more meaningful impact on raising the societal social bar.
An Equation
I just this very minute finished listening to a weekly inspirational call for business owners and entrepreneurs, and was struck by the contrast between that message and a telephone call that ended moments before I dialed in to the weekly message.
I have times of feeling "stuck", both in business and personally, and I'm finally realizing the power of the words I speak to affect both my own actions and the perceptions of those around me. I have heard that I can't speak negativity and defeat and experience success. That makes perfect sense in the business world (and why would I want to speak negatively of my business in any case?), but it's not as immediately obvious in the world-of-being-an-employee, which I recently left.
A dear friend from my previous job called this morning, wanting my opinion on a case in which I had been involved, as well as another case. I was delighted to hear from my friend, and we spoke for twenty minutes. In all that time, there was never one positive word said about her work/my former job. That didn't surprise me, as I have noted the sucking negativity and despair that pervades much of that workplace, but it did cause me to stop and wonder if some situations are simply irretrievably "lost", given the combination of personalities, expectations and job descriptions (or lack of clarity thereof).
That is an interesting question. I decided for myself that my previous work environment was irretrievably lost, and that the longer I stayed there the more I was having to contort myself mentally and emotionally. Or, to paraprhase the song from "Chicago", is there really "a little bit of good in every situation"? If there is, is the bit of good vanishingly small, or big enough to act as a pivot point?
I'm not going to devote the time or mental energy to sussing that out; instead, I'm contenting myself with noticing the two equations that were brought to my attention this morning. From the call from my friend, I was reminded that the wages of negativity...continue to decrease every year. From the inspirational business call, I was reminded that into every positive vision, hardship inevitably comes, but the rewards are even higher on the other side.
I have times of feeling "stuck", both in business and personally, and I'm finally realizing the power of the words I speak to affect both my own actions and the perceptions of those around me. I have heard that I can't speak negativity and defeat and experience success. That makes perfect sense in the business world (and why would I want to speak negatively of my business in any case?), but it's not as immediately obvious in the world-of-being-an-employee, which I recently left.
A dear friend from my previous job called this morning, wanting my opinion on a case in which I had been involved, as well as another case. I was delighted to hear from my friend, and we spoke for twenty minutes. In all that time, there was never one positive word said about her work/my former job. That didn't surprise me, as I have noted the sucking negativity and despair that pervades much of that workplace, but it did cause me to stop and wonder if some situations are simply irretrievably "lost", given the combination of personalities, expectations and job descriptions (or lack of clarity thereof).
That is an interesting question. I decided for myself that my previous work environment was irretrievably lost, and that the longer I stayed there the more I was having to contort myself mentally and emotionally. Or, to paraprhase the song from "Chicago", is there really "a little bit of good in every situation"? If there is, is the bit of good vanishingly small, or big enough to act as a pivot point?
I'm not going to devote the time or mental energy to sussing that out; instead, I'm contenting myself with noticing the two equations that were brought to my attention this morning. From the call from my friend, I was reminded that the wages of negativity...continue to decrease every year. From the inspirational business call, I was reminded that into every positive vision, hardship inevitably comes, but the rewards are even higher on the other side.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Finding Your Path
These are some exerpts from a presentation that I gave a few weeks ago, on how I left my day job to become an independent business owner, and some observations so far.
Since we often define ourselves through our activities, and in
turn our activities define us, by shaping our priorities, drawing certain
people into our circle, if something that is ok or tolerable is a big piece of
our lives, then we draw to ourselves people and situations that support a
tolerable life. In a tolerable life, a passion is on the
periphery, something that a few hours a week or a month “keeps me
going.”
I hear my friends and former coworkers say that they love their
chosen field, but now that I’m no longer in that stream, I can
really listen, and what I most often hear is a nonstop stream of complaints, that
loop back on themselves and repeat, and repeat.
This is not a judgment, because I was right there also,
participating in those “this is how bad my life is” conversations, day after
day, after day. And it’s easy for that
orientation toward the biggest part of the day to bleed over into the rest of life…now
my social obligations are a burden, now my family’s activities are a burden,
now I don’t “have time” for fun, or I don’t describe leisure activities as fun
or I don’t select leisure activities that are fun because they don’t fit my
narrative.
Is this ok?
Is this what life is supposed to be?
I believe we all have a path, a unique path, where we make fullest use
of our innate
or acquired strengths for our own benefit and for the benefit of
others.
If we are trudging along, head down, going through
motions, living for the weekend, or vacation, or retirement, we probably aren’t on
the right path. Some people
try to tell
us that we are, by saying “You’re lucky to have a job at all?” What a terrible thing to say to someone! And what a terrible message to internalize: This is the best I can do. Someone or someones in a position of
authority told me so.
So many of us stop thinking that we can do
better, and we soak up and internalize and repeat “The evil you know is better than the
fabulosity you don’t know.”
Wait a minute! That’s
not how it goes! It’s supposed to be the
EVIL you don’t know. Well, if you don’t
know, how do you know that something is evil?
When do we start equating “unfamiliar” with “bad”? We didn’t used to be that way. We used to embrace new things and to reinvent
ourselves on a regular basis.
If you can dress, drive and feed yourself, you already have reinvented yourself three times. If you are potty trained, have held a job,
can read and have lived independently of your family of origin,
you have reinvented yourself four more times. When do we stop doing that? At what point to we look around and say, “I’m
finished growing?” Even the grass continues
to grow, no matter how much we hack it back, no matter if there is a drought
and it dies back to the roots. Does my lawn
have more ambition than I do??
What if someone got off track and then decided, “I’m
finished growing and reinventing I may
not be on my life’s path, I may be hacking my way through the woods with a
machete every day (which would explain why I’m exhausted all the time), but I’m
committing to this direction.”
It’s easy to miss
the path sometimes, and even when life offers us shortcuts
to get back on track, we can miss them because we’re working so hard over HERE,
instead of stopping, taking a rest and looking around. All the way around. The other 350 degrees. Ah, there it is!
Why commit to a particular course of action
that isn’t
resulting in a life improvement?
We would never consider making a
wrong turn on a street and saying, “Y’know, I think I’ll just keep
going this way. I’m not sure where I’m
going, but finding my way back seems like a lot of work, plus it would be
acknowledging that I got off track, and I’m not really up for either of those,
so I’ll just keep going this way. I hope
there is a gas station somewhere.”
Our life paths are no different. No different.
A dear
friend and former coworker, when I informed her of my plans to leave
my day job last spring, was horrified. “How
can you turn
your back on your degree? You
worked so hard for it!”
“It’s time to move on” I told her.
“Why would I let a piece of paper define the rest of my
life?” There were no sacred vows
involved, no tokens of fidelity exchanged.
I already had spotted the shortcut back to my path. Was my time in my previous career
wasted? Not at all! That was where I needed to be for those
years, gaining skills and then becoming uncomfortable enough to decide that a
change was needed. I was moving on,
not turning back.
So here is someone hacking away at the underbrush,
heading…somewhere unspecified, exhausted but resigned to “this is the best I
can do” because I’ve been swinging this machete for so long, and I’ve
surrounded myself with people who are also hacking away at the underbrush,
because it
makes me feel better about being unhappy because if we are all
unhappy, at
least I have company and having company is good.
I used to do this too! I belonged to the sisterhood of the downtrodden, and was
swinging that machete and talking about how difficult it was and how I had no
other options.
What on earth holds anyone to this course? Fear, of course, an assumption that the
unknown is worse than the known, simply because it is unknown or the person doesn't have enough information.
There is discomfort, but also power, in realizing that we all have unique gifts and a unique path and that we can choose to get back to that path if we have wandered off. That can be a gradual process, just doing the very next thing, but it all starts with a decision.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
When your feet are wet, it means....
We frequently hear something similar to this phrase--"Don't let them tell you what to do." It also travels as "Stand your ground" or "Don't let them push you around." The "them" presumably are people in authority, and the implied intimidation is the result of one attempting to Do What Is Right or to Stand Up For Truth, to the evident dismay of authority figures.
I heard this phrase spoken to me several times over the last six years, in my position as a school psychologist, when I gave voice to my frustration over conflicting directions or draconian pronouncements from my supervisors. "Hang tough," I was told. "You're doing the right thing."
I'm not saying this is not good advice, just that it is overapplied. While we applaud and support children who take a stand with their peers for rising above the lowest common denominator, we also counsel them (at least I do) with that timeless advice from Kenny Rogers--"You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away and know when to run." In other words, going to the mat for everything isn't the wisest way to go through life.
When does knowing when to fold 'em and to walk away become a bad thing? Is it a reaction to a feeling of powerlessness, that this is the one thing I can do to assert myself? I can refuse to leave a situation in which I am being physically, verbally or emotionally pummeled because, well, I can. It's my decision. You can't make me leave. True 'nuf, but sometimes wisdom trumps ability, or at least it should. Just because I have an option, doesn't mean I should take it.
An analogy comes to mind, and I do love this one, although I have to take minor liberties with historical facts. Let's say I'm on the Titanic, and it's at the point where clearly something is very wrong. Some lifeboats have been put off and are hovering nearby, although at a safe distance. I am being urged, with increasingly directive language, to get into a lifeboat. And I am refusing.
What might prompt such a seemingly foolish stand? First, I don't have the benefit of hindsight, so I don't know for certain what is going to happen. Second, I am committed to the idea of holding my destiny in my own hands, and if I want to get into a boat, it will when and if I want to, not because somebody ordered me. And I don't really want to go, because getting into a lifeboat requires acknowledging that something is terribly wrong and my initial course of action might have to change. Maybe booking passage on the Titanic was a mistake, and I don't want to acknowledge that I made a mistake. So I stand there on the deck, thinking, "Maybe somebody will do something to stabilize the ship. Maybe it will stop sinking. I sacrificed for a long time to buy my ticket, and all my stuff is still on board. I don't want to just turn my back on my investment. It looks cold out there in the boats. My feet are still dry. I think I'll stay here awhile longer."
The minutes and hours pass. Now (here's where a little historical license is needed), I can see a ship, perhaps the Carpathia, on the horizon. Some of the lifeboats are heading that way. The people in the lifeboats may be cold, and they are abandoning their possessions (their "investments"), but they have acknowledged that the situation has changed, and they are implementing Plan B. I'm sticking with Plan A, which is a sincere and profound hope that someone will do something and the Titanic will stabilize, but I'm having a harder and harder time rationalizing it to myself. The lifeboats have all left now, but many are still nearby and not full, so if I put on a lifejacket or grab a deck chair and jump or lower myself into the water (which is getting closer all the time), I could still swim to a lifeboat, be pulled onboard and eventually get to the Carpathia. I can still save myself...but it's gonna be my decision. No one can force me to get into that cold, cold water and swim to a lifeboat.
You can see how this plays out. At what point does saving myself become more important than resisting being told what to do? At what point do I realize that the situation in which I have allowed myself to stay has become untenable? Is it when my feet are getting wet and I can step off, rather than jump off the deck? Is it when the vacuum is pulling me under?
Shortly before I decided to step off my own personal Titanic, hop into the water and swim for the lifeboat, a dear friend and (now former) coworker expressed consternation at my decision. "You can't just turn your back on your degree!" she exclaimed. "After all the time you put into getting it!" Another dear friend wrote to me, "Don't let them drive you out!" I heard them both, but I also could feel my feet getting wet, and I decided to swim for it. Now I'm in a lifeboat, damp but ok, on my way to better things, and they still are on the Titanic. That makes me sad.
I heard this phrase spoken to me several times over the last six years, in my position as a school psychologist, when I gave voice to my frustration over conflicting directions or draconian pronouncements from my supervisors. "Hang tough," I was told. "You're doing the right thing."
I'm not saying this is not good advice, just that it is overapplied. While we applaud and support children who take a stand with their peers for rising above the lowest common denominator, we also counsel them (at least I do) with that timeless advice from Kenny Rogers--"You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away and know when to run." In other words, going to the mat for everything isn't the wisest way to go through life.
When does knowing when to fold 'em and to walk away become a bad thing? Is it a reaction to a feeling of powerlessness, that this is the one thing I can do to assert myself? I can refuse to leave a situation in which I am being physically, verbally or emotionally pummeled because, well, I can. It's my decision. You can't make me leave. True 'nuf, but sometimes wisdom trumps ability, or at least it should. Just because I have an option, doesn't mean I should take it.
An analogy comes to mind, and I do love this one, although I have to take minor liberties with historical facts. Let's say I'm on the Titanic, and it's at the point where clearly something is very wrong. Some lifeboats have been put off and are hovering nearby, although at a safe distance. I am being urged, with increasingly directive language, to get into a lifeboat. And I am refusing.
What might prompt such a seemingly foolish stand? First, I don't have the benefit of hindsight, so I don't know for certain what is going to happen. Second, I am committed to the idea of holding my destiny in my own hands, and if I want to get into a boat, it will when and if I want to, not because somebody ordered me. And I don't really want to go, because getting into a lifeboat requires acknowledging that something is terribly wrong and my initial course of action might have to change. Maybe booking passage on the Titanic was a mistake, and I don't want to acknowledge that I made a mistake. So I stand there on the deck, thinking, "Maybe somebody will do something to stabilize the ship. Maybe it will stop sinking. I sacrificed for a long time to buy my ticket, and all my stuff is still on board. I don't want to just turn my back on my investment. It looks cold out there in the boats. My feet are still dry. I think I'll stay here awhile longer."
The minutes and hours pass. Now (here's where a little historical license is needed), I can see a ship, perhaps the Carpathia, on the horizon. Some of the lifeboats are heading that way. The people in the lifeboats may be cold, and they are abandoning their possessions (their "investments"), but they have acknowledged that the situation has changed, and they are implementing Plan B. I'm sticking with Plan A, which is a sincere and profound hope that someone will do something and the Titanic will stabilize, but I'm having a harder and harder time rationalizing it to myself. The lifeboats have all left now, but many are still nearby and not full, so if I put on a lifejacket or grab a deck chair and jump or lower myself into the water (which is getting closer all the time), I could still swim to a lifeboat, be pulled onboard and eventually get to the Carpathia. I can still save myself...but it's gonna be my decision. No one can force me to get into that cold, cold water and swim to a lifeboat.
You can see how this plays out. At what point does saving myself become more important than resisting being told what to do? At what point do I realize that the situation in which I have allowed myself to stay has become untenable? Is it when my feet are getting wet and I can step off, rather than jump off the deck? Is it when the vacuum is pulling me under?
Shortly before I decided to step off my own personal Titanic, hop into the water and swim for the lifeboat, a dear friend and (now former) coworker expressed consternation at my decision. "You can't just turn your back on your degree!" she exclaimed. "After all the time you put into getting it!" Another dear friend wrote to me, "Don't let them drive you out!" I heard them both, but I also could feel my feet getting wet, and I decided to swim for it. Now I'm in a lifeboat, damp but ok, on my way to better things, and they still are on the Titanic. That makes me sad.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
The Company We Keep
Fiction can become truth, can't it? Nearly any statement, however absurd, can acquire an aura of gravitas if it is repeated often enough. I have seen this first hand, and lived to tell about it, but it was touch and go for awhile.
Remember your Psychology 101? You don't? Why not? It had some good stuff. Some of the good stuff was Martin Seligman's experiment on creating learned helplessness in dogs, whereby after they repeatedly had been unable to escape a shock, they "gave up" and did not attempt to escape further shocks, even when there was no impediment to them leaving. The dogs were not able to recognize when the situation changed, and "I'm helpless" became their truth. On a slight tangent, the opposite also is true, at least for frogs. I'm told that a frog can be boiled to death in an open pan of water if the heat is turned up in small enough increments. The frog "adjusts" to the change in the water temperature, until it is too late. In this case, the frog does not recognize that the situation has changed, and "I'm ok" becomes its truth.
What about people? I'm not talking about shocking or boiling them, but everyone hears from grade school on to be nice to others and to not be mean, because "It will damage their self esteem." I personally loathe that phrase and will never use it, partially because the people who DO use it never can define what they mean by "self esteem" and partially because it is possible to damage a person's self concept in the other direction, so that s/he has an artificially inflated sense of competence. I digress. The good and kind thing to do is to encourage people to be the best they can be, so that encouragement becomes truth, and people believe that they can at least attempt difficult things. None of us can become "anything", as we are told in the early grades, but all of us are capable of more than we think we are.
Why is the company we keep important? We were raised to think it was a matter of reputation, and it is that, but it's more. The company we keep is important, because their truth becomes our truth. If a constant message is "You are powerless to improve your situation", that becomes true. If a constant message is "No matter how hard you work, your efforts will be either misguided or insufficient", that becomes true. The truly unfortunate outcome is when people begin to generalize these statements and apply them to ALL aspects of their lives. "You are powerless to improve your situation" in a particular work setting mutates into "I am powerless to break free from this situation, because I am powerless across the board." The statement "No matter how hard you work, your efforts will be either misguided or insufficient" becomes "The amount of effort I put into my work has no bearing on any possible rewards, so I might as well dial back my effort in all situations." These overgeneralizations are spirit breakers that feed a downward spiral of complaining, which leads to feelings of dispiritedness, which lead to more complaining. Nothing positive is possible, and that's the "truth".
I subscribed to that alternate truth for years, and completely bought the fiction that I was incapable of doing anything other than what I was doing, that this was the best I could hope for, and that the situation I was in was better than nothing. All of these were untrue, but as I listen to my friends and former coworkers talk to me and to each other about their work and their futures, I hear these themes recycled over and over as truth, and there is a dreariness to the conversations that keep looping back on themselves. "I'm ok, I just have to hang in there, there is nothing else I can do" they say, either not realizing that the water is coming to a boil around them, or realizing it but no longer looking to escape. The company we keep IS important, so very important. Our truth is shaped by them.
Remember your Psychology 101? You don't? Why not? It had some good stuff. Some of the good stuff was Martin Seligman's experiment on creating learned helplessness in dogs, whereby after they repeatedly had been unable to escape a shock, they "gave up" and did not attempt to escape further shocks, even when there was no impediment to them leaving. The dogs were not able to recognize when the situation changed, and "I'm helpless" became their truth. On a slight tangent, the opposite also is true, at least for frogs. I'm told that a frog can be boiled to death in an open pan of water if the heat is turned up in small enough increments. The frog "adjusts" to the change in the water temperature, until it is too late. In this case, the frog does not recognize that the situation has changed, and "I'm ok" becomes its truth.
What about people? I'm not talking about shocking or boiling them, but everyone hears from grade school on to be nice to others and to not be mean, because "It will damage their self esteem." I personally loathe that phrase and will never use it, partially because the people who DO use it never can define what they mean by "self esteem" and partially because it is possible to damage a person's self concept in the other direction, so that s/he has an artificially inflated sense of competence. I digress. The good and kind thing to do is to encourage people to be the best they can be, so that encouragement becomes truth, and people believe that they can at least attempt difficult things. None of us can become "anything", as we are told in the early grades, but all of us are capable of more than we think we are.
Why is the company we keep important? We were raised to think it was a matter of reputation, and it is that, but it's more. The company we keep is important, because their truth becomes our truth. If a constant message is "You are powerless to improve your situation", that becomes true. If a constant message is "No matter how hard you work, your efforts will be either misguided or insufficient", that becomes true. The truly unfortunate outcome is when people begin to generalize these statements and apply them to ALL aspects of their lives. "You are powerless to improve your situation" in a particular work setting mutates into "I am powerless to break free from this situation, because I am powerless across the board." The statement "No matter how hard you work, your efforts will be either misguided or insufficient" becomes "The amount of effort I put into my work has no bearing on any possible rewards, so I might as well dial back my effort in all situations." These overgeneralizations are spirit breakers that feed a downward spiral of complaining, which leads to feelings of dispiritedness, which lead to more complaining. Nothing positive is possible, and that's the "truth".
I subscribed to that alternate truth for years, and completely bought the fiction that I was incapable of doing anything other than what I was doing, that this was the best I could hope for, and that the situation I was in was better than nothing. All of these were untrue, but as I listen to my friends and former coworkers talk to me and to each other about their work and their futures, I hear these themes recycled over and over as truth, and there is a dreariness to the conversations that keep looping back on themselves. "I'm ok, I just have to hang in there, there is nothing else I can do" they say, either not realizing that the water is coming to a boil around them, or realizing it but no longer looking to escape. The company we keep IS important, so very important. Our truth is shaped by them.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Call me...maybe
It is now six days post-resignation from my (previous) day job, and radio-silence from administration. This does not surprise or disappoint me. I am, however, fascinated by the implication and by the implications of THAT for the choices I made over the previous fifteen years.
There is a saying that "Character is how you behave when no one is looking." I agree, and believe that if one is sloppy with the little things, one will be sloppy with the big things. I organized my work around that idea and thought I was Doing The Right Thing. I thought that was important, and that it was important to the people for whom I worked. I thought my insistence on coherent recommendations was important.
It appears that the last two hours of my employment resonated more with management that the previous fifteen years, and that is the fascinating part. Working backwards, I deduce that if I had given two-weeks notice, or better yet, a year's notice, I probably could have gotten some sort of statement of appreciation, maybe lunch, maybe a handshake. Not for the work I had done, but for my exit strategy. As I continue to work backwards, it appears that behaving when no one was looking was not as integral a part of my job as I had thought.
Am I bitter? Not a bit. All the less-that-desirable parts helped point me toward my decision to leave ahead of retirement and the relief that I feel at having made that decision. I am bemused that I spent so much time and energy where, in retrospect, it didn't matter, and I'm grateful that I have the chance to redirect my time and energy.
I remember coworkers saying to me "Hang in there, and don't let Them drive you out." My question now, is....why? Why on earth would I "Hang in there?" Why would I, or anyone, stay in a situation where fifteen years of work is cancelled out in two hours?
So hey, if "standards", "best practices" and "effectiveness" really ARE important, then call me! Maybe. Wish me happiness. Show some character.
There is a saying that "Character is how you behave when no one is looking." I agree, and believe that if one is sloppy with the little things, one will be sloppy with the big things. I organized my work around that idea and thought I was Doing The Right Thing. I thought that was important, and that it was important to the people for whom I worked. I thought my insistence on coherent recommendations was important.
It appears that the last two hours of my employment resonated more with management that the previous fifteen years, and that is the fascinating part. Working backwards, I deduce that if I had given two-weeks notice, or better yet, a year's notice, I probably could have gotten some sort of statement of appreciation, maybe lunch, maybe a handshake. Not for the work I had done, but for my exit strategy. As I continue to work backwards, it appears that behaving when no one was looking was not as integral a part of my job as I had thought.
Am I bitter? Not a bit. All the less-that-desirable parts helped point me toward my decision to leave ahead of retirement and the relief that I feel at having made that decision. I am bemused that I spent so much time and energy where, in retrospect, it didn't matter, and I'm grateful that I have the chance to redirect my time and energy.
I remember coworkers saying to me "Hang in there, and don't let Them drive you out." My question now, is....why? Why on earth would I "Hang in there?" Why would I, or anyone, stay in a situation where fifteen years of work is cancelled out in two hours?
So hey, if "standards", "best practices" and "effectiveness" really ARE important, then call me! Maybe. Wish me happiness. Show some character.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Mashup
This is a combination of three thoughts: FDR's "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself"; a thought suggested to me by the story of King Solomon, who started out strong but faded in the backstretch when he was led astray by his many wives and a "hey, I recognize this knot in my stomach!" moment last Thursday, the day before I resigned my job.
Several people have told me, "I could NEVER (whatever)", most often referring to taking up skating as an adult ("I'm afraid of falling") or doing the career 180 that I have ("I'm not as good as you are"), and the common denominator seems to be some unspecified fear arising from taking up an unfamiliar endeavor. I have marveled at how frequently we already have taken up something unfamiliar before reaching adulthood, and yet we easily forget those examples. Walking is the best one, because it involved a lot of effort, and yes, falling. Unfortunately, none of us remember that. Talking, reading, writing, all of those things we take for granted were unfamiliar and difficult at one time, and very likely tears were shed along the way. Driving is another great example. There is no innate "drive" to drive, as there might be for walking, but very few, if any, of us said, " Weeeelll, I don't know. I've never driven before, and I'm afraid of getting in an accident, so I think I'll give it a pass."
What is the difference between these basic activities and something like public speaking, teaching a college class, competing in skating, performing on the piano or taking up a business? I think the big difference is we are surrounded constantly by people who successfully mastered walking, talking, reading, writing and driving, but examples of other activities might be far more infrequent. If I haven't seen many examples of people successfully mastering something unfamiliar, I might indeed be reluctant to take it up.
So maybe we can reframe "I could NEVER...." as "I haven't seen many people do that, so I'm not as certain that it's feasible for me." And now we arrive at the crux of the matter, which is that unfamiliarity breeds fear, or something that feels like it. Fear of what, exactly? Fear of "looking stupid" mostly, which is self-consciousness. I tell my adult skating students, "Well of COURSE you're going to fall! I do all the time. And if it's a really spectacular one, and you're not hurt, I'll probably laugh, because it looks funny. People laugh at me all the time. And I laugh at myself." Then we move on to how to fall so that you don't get hurt. And then, we start learning to skate. When the fear is gone, or at least under control, it's amazing what people can accomplish. King Solomon came to an ignominious end when he began "worshiping lesser gods" and people who give fear a place of honor in their lives gradually find themselves stuck in one place, with a vague sensation that there was supposed to be more to life than this.
Which finally brings me to last Thursday. I was feeling the strain of keeping my impending resignation from my long-time job quiet for just one more day, and my stomach was in a knot. I could have interpreted that as fear, and thus as a sign that I had made the wrong decision, that I should change my mind, that things were about to go terribly wrong. Instead, I had a sudden feeling of recognition: This is exactly how I feel at competition, when my name has been called and the door to the ice has been closed (why does it always sound so loud?), but before I take my mark. I know this feeling--it doesn't mean I've made a horrible mistake or that I need to run or that I look stupid; it just means that I need to focus. I can survive this feeling without doing anything drastic. It will pass. I took a deep breath and refocused. And the feeling passed.
Several people have told me, "I could NEVER (whatever)", most often referring to taking up skating as an adult ("I'm afraid of falling") or doing the career 180 that I have ("I'm not as good as you are"), and the common denominator seems to be some unspecified fear arising from taking up an unfamiliar endeavor. I have marveled at how frequently we already have taken up something unfamiliar before reaching adulthood, and yet we easily forget those examples. Walking is the best one, because it involved a lot of effort, and yes, falling. Unfortunately, none of us remember that. Talking, reading, writing, all of those things we take for granted were unfamiliar and difficult at one time, and very likely tears were shed along the way. Driving is another great example. There is no innate "drive" to drive, as there might be for walking, but very few, if any, of us said, " Weeeelll, I don't know. I've never driven before, and I'm afraid of getting in an accident, so I think I'll give it a pass."
What is the difference between these basic activities and something like public speaking, teaching a college class, competing in skating, performing on the piano or taking up a business? I think the big difference is we are surrounded constantly by people who successfully mastered walking, talking, reading, writing and driving, but examples of other activities might be far more infrequent. If I haven't seen many examples of people successfully mastering something unfamiliar, I might indeed be reluctant to take it up.
So maybe we can reframe "I could NEVER...." as "I haven't seen many people do that, so I'm not as certain that it's feasible for me." And now we arrive at the crux of the matter, which is that unfamiliarity breeds fear, or something that feels like it. Fear of what, exactly? Fear of "looking stupid" mostly, which is self-consciousness. I tell my adult skating students, "Well of COURSE you're going to fall! I do all the time. And if it's a really spectacular one, and you're not hurt, I'll probably laugh, because it looks funny. People laugh at me all the time. And I laugh at myself." Then we move on to how to fall so that you don't get hurt. And then, we start learning to skate. When the fear is gone, or at least under control, it's amazing what people can accomplish. King Solomon came to an ignominious end when he began "worshiping lesser gods" and people who give fear a place of honor in their lives gradually find themselves stuck in one place, with a vague sensation that there was supposed to be more to life than this.
Which finally brings me to last Thursday. I was feeling the strain of keeping my impending resignation from my long-time job quiet for just one more day, and my stomach was in a knot. I could have interpreted that as fear, and thus as a sign that I had made the wrong decision, that I should change my mind, that things were about to go terribly wrong. Instead, I had a sudden feeling of recognition: This is exactly how I feel at competition, when my name has been called and the door to the ice has been closed (why does it always sound so loud?), but before I take my mark. I know this feeling--it doesn't mean I've made a horrible mistake or that I need to run or that I look stupid; it just means that I need to focus. I can survive this feeling without doing anything drastic. It will pass. I took a deep breath and refocused. And the feeling passed.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Today Is The Day!
Today is the day!
Today I will hand in my resignation
for a job that I used to love and grew to loathe,
and walk out the door into my new life.
It feels almost inevitable,
but the knot in my stomach let's me know it's not,
it's more like, the divorce has to happen...
but it doesn't have to happen today.
Or,
We need to euthanize a beloved pet,
but we don't have to do it today.
The day, the hour, does arrive,
and although some changes are for the worse, t
his is not one of them. I
t's just a step down a new path for me,
a path others created and can show me
where the rough spots are.
Just because I haven't trod the path yet,
it's not a bad place; in fact, I know it's
full of exciting things to see and do!
The knot comes from leaving behind
"the evil you know", a situation that is
stunting and deforming to the soul...but familiar.
I know how to cope with it.
The question finally became,
"Why am I merely coping?
Is this REALLY the very best my life will be?
Am I destined to die with a crick in my neck f
rom looking over my shoulder?"
The proverb "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush"
has some merit, but what if the bird in the hand dies,
and the bush is right there? Then what?
At what point does it become obvious that clutching
a smelly, dead bird isn't really serving any purpose,
other than keeping you from holding something better?
So, off I go, into the unknown!
Today I will hand in my resignation
for a job that I used to love and grew to loathe,
and walk out the door into my new life.
It feels almost inevitable,
but the knot in my stomach let's me know it's not,
it's more like, the divorce has to happen...
but it doesn't have to happen today.
Or,
We need to euthanize a beloved pet,
but we don't have to do it today.
The day, the hour, does arrive,
and although some changes are for the worse, t
his is not one of them. I
t's just a step down a new path for me,
a path others created and can show me
where the rough spots are.
Just because I haven't trod the path yet,
it's not a bad place; in fact, I know it's
full of exciting things to see and do!
The knot comes from leaving behind
"the evil you know", a situation that is
stunting and deforming to the soul...but familiar.
I know how to cope with it.
The question finally became,
"Why am I merely coping?
Is this REALLY the very best my life will be?
Am I destined to die with a crick in my neck f
rom looking over my shoulder?"
The proverb "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush"
has some merit, but what if the bird in the hand dies,
and the bush is right there? Then what?
At what point does it become obvious that clutching
a smelly, dead bird isn't really serving any purpose,
other than keeping you from holding something better?
So, off I go, into the unknown!
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