Not long ago, I was tooling around in my car and a Train song came on the radio. I really liked the song, and as Amazon would have it, the album was on super-sale just that day. So I plinked down my two dollars and have been enjoying it ever since. Today, I thought I'd share a different song from that album with you.
If I hear it correctly, it's two friends from high school who haven't seen each other in ages -- 10 years or more. They're catching up on each other's lives, careers, relationship statuses, etc. It's kind of a cute conversation, and they each have some big ups and downs to share. It's the chorus that I like, though. It refers to the "downs" as bruises, and it says that everybody's got 'em and they are what make for good conversation.
That idea -- that our willingness to show our "bruises" contributes to good conversation -- has been rattling around in the back of my mind as I get to know my new friends here a little better. As I share more of my history with people who haven't been around to witness most of it, I feel the weight of there being too much...too much drama, too much pain, too many seemingly bad choices (even too many babies!). I worry that my story is too much, and that I bring too much to the table, and therefore I am not enough. My friends have not once given this impression, but the insecurity persists.
This song has been a nice reminder, popping up in my memory here and there and speaking a sort of peace into the occasional storm of thoughts. It's ok, it's really ok; people will still love me, and I am not inferior...I'm even possibly more interesting! Pat Monahan is maybe not the calibre of spiritual advisor I'd seek out, but I do think he'd be a good friend (and, in my case, a celebrity crush that has lasted 13 years and counting). And with that thought, I'll leave you with this:
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
3.08.2013
3.04.2013
breaking the habit of "us"
As I get further out from being part of an "us" and I spend more time talking to new friends, I find myself not knowing what to do when there's a relevant reason for mentioning something from my past life, whether it's a story or what. I hate feeling like I am bringing up my dead marriage and all of that, but at the same time I don't want to NOT share aspects of myself just because they are, in my memory, inextricably linked with my ex.
For example, if I am talking about dog breeds with someone (which is something I do!) it might be relevant to mention the fact that I had a border collie when I was married. I don't have her now, and my ex doesn't either (she now lives with a family that has three young kids she can herd). Sometimes just saying I used to have a border collie is enough, but sometimes there are follow-up questions that would require me to mention my ex in some way or another. Is that weird? I can't decide; regardless, though, I don't like talking about him. But I haven't figured out a workaround.
There are some times when I can just say "when I lived in Denver" or "when I was going to the Presbyterian church" or whatever, but that doesn't always work. Talking about being a single-car family, for example. These days, it makes sense that I would be a "single car family" because I'm the only adult; there was a time, however, when I was part of a pair of adults sharing one car, and I don't know how to refer to that. It's weird if I say "when I lived in Richmond, we only had one car" because the pronouns don't match up and not everyone I talk to knows I'm divorced. Gah! This kind of thing doesn't happen often, but it happened a couple of times recently so it's niggling me.
I think the biggest issue is that I still feel compelled, at some level, to tell "the whole truth" all the time. It doesn't matter that I went to a firing range because it was something my husband and I did together; all that is significant is that I've been to one. There's a shift that needs to happen, somewhere in my mind and in my habits, but identifying exactly what needs to shift and how to make it happen has proven tricky.
Maybe it's just something that comes with time. Thank goodness there's plenty of that left.
For example, if I am talking about dog breeds with someone (which is something I do!) it might be relevant to mention the fact that I had a border collie when I was married. I don't have her now, and my ex doesn't either (she now lives with a family that has three young kids she can herd). Sometimes just saying I used to have a border collie is enough, but sometimes there are follow-up questions that would require me to mention my ex in some way or another. Is that weird? I can't decide; regardless, though, I don't like talking about him. But I haven't figured out a workaround.
There are some times when I can just say "when I lived in Denver" or "when I was going to the Presbyterian church" or whatever, but that doesn't always work. Talking about being a single-car family, for example. These days, it makes sense that I would be a "single car family" because I'm the only adult; there was a time, however, when I was part of a pair of adults sharing one car, and I don't know how to refer to that. It's weird if I say "when I lived in Richmond, we only had one car" because the pronouns don't match up and not everyone I talk to knows I'm divorced. Gah! This kind of thing doesn't happen often, but it happened a couple of times recently so it's niggling me.
I think the biggest issue is that I still feel compelled, at some level, to tell "the whole truth" all the time. It doesn't matter that I went to a firing range because it was something my husband and I did together; all that is significant is that I've been to one. There's a shift that needs to happen, somewhere in my mind and in my habits, but identifying exactly what needs to shift and how to make it happen has proven tricky.
Maybe it's just something that comes with time. Thank goodness there's plenty of that left.
1.05.2011
why i'm not a writer
I used to think of myself as a writer. I was on the school newspaper, I journaled, I enjoyed a lot of the writing assignments in high school (and I had a full load of them, too, being in IB). I thought I wanted to be a journalist, and my dream job was being a travel writer. I went to school to study journalism, and I graduated with a Bachelor's degree in the stuff. See? Writer.
But I'm not a writer. I don't write for a living full-time, though I do write stuff. Sometimes a lot of stuff. Sometimes I even get paid for it. There are books about writing all over my house. I have full journals in the garage. There's a half-full journal sitting next to me, ready to be put away for tomorrow's entry. I could tell you all about the benefits of writing, the importance of setting aside time every single day to write, the value of exercises like journaling and NaNoWriMo. I could point you to my favorite resources for the craft, tell you about what I find most inspiring. All of these things are evidence of me 'being' a writer. But I'm not one.
Writing - and more generally, words - could easily be called my biggest, or greatest, interest. My physical life is scattered with books, pens, notebooks, papers, grammar books and dictionaries, computers, even a typewriter. All tools of the trade. All evidencing care and, perhaps more importantly, use. But I know I'm not a writer.
I'm not a writer because there are times - perhaps the most important times - that I can't write. I just can't bear it. When I am in my deepest internal struggles, dealing with the most difficult pain, processing a great challenge or problem, I don't write. I can't. My most important things never meet paper. They are never read. No record exists of my greatest joys, nor my agonies. When I have something, something really big and important and even necessary, I don't write about it.
To me, a writer is someone who lives by the pen. Someone who can't fathom being anything but a writer. Someone who is always writing. A writer doesn't leave the important things unwritten.
Why are my most important things unwritten? I don't know. But if I were a real writer, those things would be on paper. This is perhaps the thing I most regret about my life: I don't record what is really important.
The deepest, most essential facets of my life go unrecorded. I let them. And I suffer as a result.
What was I thinking, the night before my wedding? And what were the biggest fears the night I thought my marriage might be ending? Could what got me through the last wave of doubts help me get through my current spiritual crisis? What did it feel like the day I brought my puppy home? How have I changed, and what priorities have shifted? I don't know. I don't remember any of these things in specific detail. I wish I had recorded my thoughts then, so that I could see them now.
I wish I could say that things are different, that I've become better at recording the greater things. But I'm not. I make an effort here and there, but not a consistent one. The regret grows deeper, but the block is still there. Something prevents me from living, fully, on the pages of my journal. Fear of being read? Fear of real insight? Fear of uncovering something that is best left unacknowledged?
Or am I so easily distracted by deep emotion that I simply can't be bothered to scratch out what's going on?
One thing is for sure. A writer would write. No matter what. So I am not a writer. That's ok with me. But what's not ok is letting the big things in my life pass by, unrecorded.
In this sense, I must become a writer. Or I will continue to suffer with regret.
But I'm not a writer. I don't write for a living full-time, though I do write stuff. Sometimes a lot of stuff. Sometimes I even get paid for it. There are books about writing all over my house. I have full journals in the garage. There's a half-full journal sitting next to me, ready to be put away for tomorrow's entry. I could tell you all about the benefits of writing, the importance of setting aside time every single day to write, the value of exercises like journaling and NaNoWriMo. I could point you to my favorite resources for the craft, tell you about what I find most inspiring. All of these things are evidence of me 'being' a writer. But I'm not one.
Writing - and more generally, words - could easily be called my biggest, or greatest, interest. My physical life is scattered with books, pens, notebooks, papers, grammar books and dictionaries, computers, even a typewriter. All tools of the trade. All evidencing care and, perhaps more importantly, use. But I know I'm not a writer.
I'm not a writer because there are times - perhaps the most important times - that I can't write. I just can't bear it. When I am in my deepest internal struggles, dealing with the most difficult pain, processing a great challenge or problem, I don't write. I can't. My most important things never meet paper. They are never read. No record exists of my greatest joys, nor my agonies. When I have something, something really big and important and even necessary, I don't write about it.
To me, a writer is someone who lives by the pen. Someone who can't fathom being anything but a writer. Someone who is always writing. A writer doesn't leave the important things unwritten.
Why are my most important things unwritten? I don't know. But if I were a real writer, those things would be on paper. This is perhaps the thing I most regret about my life: I don't record what is really important.
The deepest, most essential facets of my life go unrecorded. I let them. And I suffer as a result.
What was I thinking, the night before my wedding? And what were the biggest fears the night I thought my marriage might be ending? Could what got me through the last wave of doubts help me get through my current spiritual crisis? What did it feel like the day I brought my puppy home? How have I changed, and what priorities have shifted? I don't know. I don't remember any of these things in specific detail. I wish I had recorded my thoughts then, so that I could see them now.
I wish I could say that things are different, that I've become better at recording the greater things. But I'm not. I make an effort here and there, but not a consistent one. The regret grows deeper, but the block is still there. Something prevents me from living, fully, on the pages of my journal. Fear of being read? Fear of real insight? Fear of uncovering something that is best left unacknowledged?
Or am I so easily distracted by deep emotion that I simply can't be bothered to scratch out what's going on?
One thing is for sure. A writer would write. No matter what. So I am not a writer. That's ok with me. But what's not ok is letting the big things in my life pass by, unrecorded.
In this sense, I must become a writer. Or I will continue to suffer with regret.
12.29.2010
Some things I'd like to do in 2011
I'm not much for New Years Resolutions, mostly because I don't find it necessary or particularly motivating to start something at the beginning of a year. If I need to start doing something, I start doing it. January 1 is arbitrary. For me at least.
But this coming new year feels a little different to me. I've begun to think about what 2011 could mean for me, professionally, individually and maritally. I have a lot of ideas. And what happens when I get a lot of ideas? I make lists.
Home/Work Life
I'm back at home, with a vision for what being 'at home' means to me. Taking care of my home and my little family - me included - has become important to me. Yes, these are things that I've always valued and felt drawn toward, but right now I am feeling an urge to prioritize home life - to devote my energy and a large part of my days to holding down the fort. Sustaining this is also important to me. I want to find some work this year, yes, but I know now that I want to be working from home. Freelancing is an obvious first step in that direction, as is looking for work-from-home positions. I may also look at smaller side hustles like Etsy. And I have a few other small and medium projects on file too - mostly involving liquidation of assets (in other words, I'll be in charge of selling our car, our spare washer and dryer, and some high-end clothing that it turns out I like to look at but never wear).
To that end, there are some specific things I think I'd like to do this year:
But this coming new year feels a little different to me. I've begun to think about what 2011 could mean for me, professionally, individually and maritally. I have a lot of ideas. And what happens when I get a lot of ideas? I make lists.
Home/Work Life
I'm back at home, with a vision for what being 'at home' means to me. Taking care of my home and my little family - me included - has become important to me. Yes, these are things that I've always valued and felt drawn toward, but right now I am feeling an urge to prioritize home life - to devote my energy and a large part of my days to holding down the fort. Sustaining this is also important to me. I want to find some work this year, yes, but I know now that I want to be working from home. Freelancing is an obvious first step in that direction, as is looking for work-from-home positions. I may also look at smaller side hustles like Etsy. And I have a few other small and medium projects on file too - mostly involving liquidation of assets (in other words, I'll be in charge of selling our car, our spare washer and dryer, and some high-end clothing that it turns out I like to look at but never wear).
To that end, there are some specific things I think I'd like to do this year:
- Finish unpacking from our move 3 months ago, for the love of Pete
- Set up the 'man cave' so that it looks like an actual man cave, and not a girly collection of miscellany (first step: get a rug that isn't pink and swirly)
- Repaint the guest bathroom (and take down the wooden hand-painted shells tacked on the walls...)
- Revamp my ailing professional website. Maybe even come up with a logo (gasp!) And then put the she-bang to use.
- Flex my bulky but unused social media muscles.
- Find a nice balance of minimalism/simplicity and organized abundance at home.
Health
Brian has been going to the gym pretty steadily for oh, maybe 6 weeks now? He is being proactive. It's starting to show, too. I really admire him for doing this. I've thought about shelling out a second membership to go to the gym with him. It's fairly frequently that he tells me he's heading to the gym and it occurs to me that, hey, I could go to the gym now too and not be too bothered by it! But then I wonder if that $25 a month could be put to better use, when I have walking shoes and a bike (not to mention a few workout dvds) that are already paid for. To increase our food budget to include grass-fed beef and free-range chickens. To go to the Chiropractor and/or get the monthly massages that keep my hip and shoulder in working order (because what good is a gym membership if it hurts too much to walk there, and then it hurts too much to do anything with the upper body?). To take a ballet class instead. We have to make these choices more carefully now.
Same goes for food. We need to make more deliberate choices. And a large part of my role in that is making sure we have good options on hand. I also want to do even more cooking at home. This year may be the year of mastering high altitude bread-baking. There are some things I've always wanted to do in the kitchen, and now is as good a time as any to make that happen (hello, New England Clam Chowder Served In A Bread Bowl). This year may also be the Year of the Garden. If I can work up the nerve.
So here's the next part of the list:
- Bake consistently good bread. Primary targets include sandwich bread that Brian will eat, and dinner rolls.
- Reach for healthful snacks and lunches more often than less good options.
- Grow, and then eat, something. Maybe a few different kinds of somethings.
Money and Travel
Because no amount of introspection is done without consideration of The Bottom Line, I of course have a section on money here. It's not that detailed yet - I feel like we are still in a financially shifting stage of life right now, so setting big goals there isn't something I want to do. I did come across the 20 Financial Milestones to Reach in Your 20s, though, and I'm looking to them for guidance. I'll share the specifics here when I figure them out, in case you're interested.
But really what our financial goals will boil down to is likely to be "Save for Traveling." We are going to Israel in June, and saving up to pay for it in cash - a goal made doable only because the church is paying for Brian's trip. Brian is also hoping to go to Haiti in March, which may be fully or partially covered by the church as well. We've recently been invited to a destination wedding in Costa Rica(!!!) in the fall, which we are hoping to swing without dipping into savings. If the Costa Rica trip doesn't pan out, I think I'm going to put together a little road trip to Austin, TX. I may even go to Vegas in a few weeks with my mom and her friend, depending on how some 'professional inquiries' shake out (I've never been to Vegas, have you?).
I love the prospect of traveling. We haven't had a chance to do much of it in our 3 years of marriage. We had our belated honeymoon in Hawaii, we had a fun road trip moving out to Colorado, and there were other road trips from the home base in Richmond, but those were all to see family, rather than pure, raw vacationing. So having these trips on the horizon is really exciting. And hey, if we can put away 4 Grand in 10 months to go to Israel, maybe we can keep saving at that same rate and finally get to Ireland in 2012. I traveled a lot with my family before I went to college, and Brian has a big travel bug too. It's good for us and our marriage to get out of town whenever we can.
And then I'm reminded: we have student loans. And maybe we should focus on paying those down faster, not on taking these trips everywhere. And there are other things we need to be thinking about too, like retirement accounts (uh...we don't really have those yet) and saving up to pay cash for a car in the event that we need one (the Highlander is coming up on 10 years old). It will probably be a while before it would make sense for us to buy a house (have you priced houses in Denver lately?) so a down payment is not even on the radar yet. We live below our means and build our general savings every month on top of the Israel trip savings, but is that good enough? This is the year to figure it out.
So with all of that rambled said, the third prong of things to do in 2011 is as follows:
And then I'm reminded: we have student loans. And maybe we should focus on paying those down faster, not on taking these trips everywhere. And there are other things we need to be thinking about too, like retirement accounts (uh...we don't really have those yet) and saving up to pay cash for a car in the event that we need one (the Highlander is coming up on 10 years old). It will probably be a while before it would make sense for us to buy a house (have you priced houses in Denver lately?) so a down payment is not even on the radar yet. We live below our means and build our general savings every month on top of the Israel trip savings, but is that good enough? This is the year to figure it out.
So with all of that rambled said, the third prong of things to do in 2011 is as follows:
- Fund Israel trip with cash - enough cash to bring home a really special thing or two
- Take one other trip in the fall
- Contribute to Brian's 403(b) and open an IRA for me
- Develop a budget that both of us can stand, and stick to it
Random Misc
Every time I've moved, I pack more boxes than I'd care to admit labeled "Random Misc." It started in college, before I realized that the phrase is redundant, and the label has stuck. These are the boxes that rarely, if ever, get unpacked. I'm pretty sure that the reason I was able to unpack every single box from our move out here a year ago is that we had packers for that move, and none of their boxes were labeled 'random misc.' But, what's a list of things to do without a little bit of random miscellany thrown in?
Here are some of the other random things I'd like to do this year:
- Take a class in something. ballet, pottery and foreign language are top contenders
- Dig into my 'special' yarn and fabric stashes and start making things with them
- Make butter and see if it's worth it
- Get someone else to help me decorate (any volunteers?)
- Make curtains for the tall, skinny, off-center window over the bed
- Read 52 books - one for each week of the year. Unless it turns out I read more than 52 books this year, in which case, read more books this year than last year.
11.19.2010
comment on this post!
I recently ruminated on some of the high dollar questions that have been rolling around in my mind lately. I thought I could dig for answers and remain engaged here at this blog. I've been rethinking that, though, and for a few different reasons.
I've outlined a few of the talking points in my head below, with reasons to STAY (here at this blog) and to GO. Lists are my favorite organization tool, so I guess it's natural that I'd employ one here
First off, I find it valuable to work through some things in writing, and this is my go-to place for that. I have a lot of things I'm working through right now, so I know the desire to write is going to crop up.
Second, I've been boning up on social media and blogging smarts for the past year-ish. While I've been learning, I've never implemented many of the would-be-necessary changes here. To be honest, I never really wanted the pressure of building, and reaching, a huge audience. This space is, first and foremost, meant to be a low-key web log, not a money-maker.
Given that, I'm thinking about taking a bigger step. Things are happening in my life, and I can't help but wonder if my (anticipated) months-long question and answer session might be of any value to people like me. I have the know-how to promote a blog, now, and the mojo to write content that I think might be worth sharing.
Third is a little more complicated. I read books and highly successful blogs written by people who went through, and are continuing, the process I've just begun. My story is different from theirs, of course, but I might have something to contribute to the conversation. While I don't really broadcast my identity here and I try to maintain privacy for anybody who is not me, Brian, or the dogs. I do know that my family reads here, as do some in-laws, and that people who know me in real life could sometimes identify folks in some of my entries. I think that's only natural.
Part of what I'm wrestling with and would like to share, if I commit myself to a focused blogging effort (which is increasingly becoming my inclination), invovles family stories. There are things that are integral to my journey, and if I really do decide to 'go for it' there are events that may be painful for my family to have broadcasted for public comment, and/or weird for my in-laws to know about or deal with. Then again, if I commit, I am all in. Some of my questions are direct results of my experiences, which involve other people and which must be plumbed if I'm to make any real progress.
Initially, I thought I could maintain Sidetracked here, and start an anonymous blog somewhere else - not telling my immediate family, and maintaining strict anonymity as a blogger. I've also tried to convince myself that what I write doesn't have to be 100% full disclosure, and I could omit some of the more unsavory facts. While this may be true and possible, the very 'unsavoryness' of some facts is a central issue. How can I tiptoe around them and still be honest?
I've outlined a few of the talking points in my head below, with reasons to STAY (here at this blog) and to GO. Lists are my favorite organization tool, so I guess it's natural that I'd employ one here
First off, I find it valuable to work through some things in writing, and this is my go-to place for that. I have a lot of things I'm working through right now, so I know the desire to write is going to crop up.
- STAY: Beyond the exercise of writing sharing, I find value in the input I get from the little community here, too.
Second, I've been boning up on social media and blogging smarts for the past year-ish. While I've been learning, I've never implemented many of the would-be-necessary changes here. To be honest, I never really wanted the pressure of building, and reaching, a huge audience. This space is, first and foremost, meant to be a low-key web log, not a money-maker.
Given that, I'm thinking about taking a bigger step. Things are happening in my life, and I can't help but wonder if my (anticipated) months-long question and answer session might be of any value to people like me. I have the know-how to promote a blog, now, and the mojo to write content that I think might be worth sharing.
- GO: A fresh start might be good. A lot of what's going on in my head is of a consistently serious nature, which isn't what I've generally presented here at Sidetracked. I'd move to Wordpress and get an address that is more reflective of the struggles I'd plan to document. Insert delusions of wide audiences and general grandeur here.
- STAY: There's nothing wrong with making changes to this blog. If I'm growing and changing, wouldn't it be better to do that here, where I've been documenting growth and changes for years? Besides, I'm in the process of moving my professional site to Wordpress, and that's probably enough scratch to satisfy the new platform itch.
Third is a little more complicated. I read books and highly successful blogs written by people who went through, and are continuing, the process I've just begun. My story is different from theirs, of course, but I might have something to contribute to the conversation. While I don't really broadcast my identity here and I try to maintain privacy for anybody who is not me, Brian, or the dogs. I do know that my family reads here, as do some in-laws, and that people who know me in real life could sometimes identify folks in some of my entries. I think that's only natural.
Part of what I'm wrestling with and would like to share, if I commit myself to a focused blogging effort (which is increasingly becoming my inclination), invovles family stories. There are things that are integral to my journey, and if I really do decide to 'go for it' there are events that may be painful for my family to have broadcasted for public comment, and/or weird for my in-laws to know about or deal with. Then again, if I commit, I am all in. Some of my questions are direct results of my experiences, which involve other people and which must be plumbed if I'm to make any real progress.
Initially, I thought I could maintain Sidetracked here, and start an anonymous blog somewhere else - not telling my immediate family, and maintaining strict anonymity as a blogger. I've also tried to convince myself that what I write doesn't have to be 100% full disclosure, and I could omit some of the more unsavory facts. While this may be true and possible, the very 'unsavoryness' of some facts is a central issue. How can I tiptoe around them and still be honest?
- STAY: This is my blog, and the only person who gets decision-making abilities about content is me. My family's story is an integral part of my story, and if I need to wrestle with that part of my experience, so be it. As stated above, I value the input I receive as a result of writing here, through comments and personal interaction. Writing here could open the door for input from people who know me well and could offer pertinent advice. Also, maintaining two blogs, a professional site, and everything else I do (including an actual job!) is more than I care to juggle right now. The content here might suffer and what's the point of keeping the blog if it's going to be lame?
- GO: Being able to write anonymously, without the worry of familial reactions, could be freeing. Would that perceived freedom be worth the complication?
11.17.2010
making changes
I haven't been around here much. Not really. Not real-ly. I know it, and you probably know it too.
I don't plan to apologize, because there's nothing wrong with my mental, if not literal, absence. (It's my blog and I'll write if I want to, and all that jazz.) There are some things I'd like to offer, though.
I've been blogging since 2001. I had a livejournal, which I loved, and browsing the archives is one of my favorite things to do. I blogged there all through college, and it's so neat to go back and reacquaint myself with the girl I was pre-TBI. Dang, I was funny, y'all. When I wasn't taking stupid quizes.
I did the myspace blog for a little while after college to satisfy my world-citizen cousins who were all over myspace with their global friends, but...ugh, myspace. I grew tired of that medium pretty quickly, but I still wanted to blog. Enter: makeway4ducklings.blogspot.com, aka Sidetracked.
This blog and I go back a while. It's carried me through some major life transitions, including a marriage, two big moves, and more than one job change (see: two big moves). It should go without saying* that I am not the same person I was when I began writing here. I'm certainly not the same person I was when I began blogging.
Not only am I not the same, I would venture that I am extraordinarily different. And yes, there's the head injury, the impact of which still brings me to tears occasionally (it took me 3 minutes and a buddy to come up with the word synthesize yesterday, and then I couldn't even pronounce it correctly). But there's more. I compare my current situation, lifestyle, viewpoint, even spiritual position, to the ones I thought I would have had by now, and there are vast differences. Gaping differences.
My adult life doesn't look anything like the adult life I'd envisioned for myself. And for some odd reason, this is difficult to accept.
That's not to say I'm disappointed. On the contrary, I'm still deeply content. But wrestling the who-I-was and the who-I-am to figure out the who-I-will-be is challenging. It's demanding and engaging and, above all, a deeply internal process.
As is writing. And lately, I've found I don't often have the stamina to do both.
Until I do. And when that's the case, I can do nothing but write. Take now, for example. I've got a big meal in the oven that will be served in an hour, and no kitchen table to serve it because my table is currently piled in onions and jars and jackets and dead hairdryers. (Well, just one dead hairdryer) Yet here I sit, typing. I dare you to pull me away. (warning: DON'T) (Note: other examples of Gotta Write Syndrome here and here.)
In general, though, writing has been difficult. For months, I struggled with the changes I'd begun to notice in myself. Putting them in writing took too much effort. Now, finally, I can accept that I am changing, and that soon, the time for deliberate changes may come. I can roll with it now, instead of suffocating my thought life in panic and fear. In the meantime, there are questions. So many questions. Big questions. Specific questions.
The answers will need to be specific, too. I'll have to combat the navel-gazing with action. Books. Conversations. Trips to Goodwill. Lifestyle changes. Real ones. Noticeable ones.
I can feel a shift inside of me. A paradigm shift, one friend called it. She was referring to a spiritual shift, but I've recently realized that while this journey began with spiritual questions, it certainly won't end there.
As in a store-closing sale, everything in my head and life is up for grabs. Kids: have 'em, or not? Cars: should I swear off them as a means for transportation? How much do I really care about the environment? Political affiliation: what do I really think? If what I think and what I think is possible are two different courses taken by two different parties, should I affiliate at all? Lifestyle: which values are my priorities, what are Brian's, and how will we get them off the paper and into our day-to-day living? How will those decisions impact our choices about spending, saving, giving, travel and/or home ownership? What about food and diet changes?
Even my theology is under intense scrutiny right now. Who, or what, is God? What are God's attributes? Do I really buy into Jesus? Am I a Christian with doubts, or an agnostic with hope? (Does that even matter?) Will I be a church-goer this time next year? As a self-professed lifelong Christian, new questions about God, Jesus and the Church are troubling, to make a delightfully inadequate understatement. (See aforementioned panic and fear.)
Ultimately, there are no guarantees. I'm traveling without a map, unsure of my destination.
Systemic change. It's happening. And when I'm through, I won't be the same.
So what does all of that mean for this space?
To begin, I think all of the above could be pointed to as the cause for the swings in my presence here. I've struggled to maintain the conversation, and I find myself swinging from intense and deep discussions to menial fluff. This is another, albeit less pressing, recurring debate: I know enough about social media to know that this is not how to build and engage an audience. On the other hand, this is just a cat blog, not the launch pad for my world domination.
Questions aside, I intend to stick around. There's a lot more to process. I invite you to witness this journey, however it unfolds.
I don't plan to apologize, because there's nothing wrong with my mental, if not literal, absence. (It's my blog and I'll write if I want to, and all that jazz.) There are some things I'd like to offer, though.
I've been blogging since 2001. I had a livejournal, which I loved, and browsing the archives is one of my favorite things to do. I blogged there all through college, and it's so neat to go back and reacquaint myself with the girl I was pre-TBI. Dang, I was funny, y'all. When I wasn't taking stupid quizes.
I did the myspace blog for a little while after college to satisfy my world-citizen cousins who were all over myspace with their global friends, but...ugh, myspace. I grew tired of that medium pretty quickly, but I still wanted to blog. Enter: makeway4ducklings.blogspot.com, aka Sidetracked.
This blog and I go back a while. It's carried me through some major life transitions, including a marriage, two big moves, and more than one job change (see: two big moves). It should go without saying* that I am not the same person I was when I began writing here. I'm certainly not the same person I was when I began blogging.
Not only am I not the same, I would venture that I am extraordinarily different. And yes, there's the head injury, the impact of which still brings me to tears occasionally (it took me 3 minutes and a buddy to come up with the word synthesize yesterday, and then I couldn't even pronounce it correctly). But there's more. I compare my current situation, lifestyle, viewpoint, even spiritual position, to the ones I thought I would have had by now, and there are vast differences. Gaping differences.
My adult life doesn't look anything like the adult life I'd envisioned for myself. And for some odd reason, this is difficult to accept.
That's not to say I'm disappointed. On the contrary, I'm still deeply content. But wrestling the who-I-was and the who-I-am to figure out the who-I-will-be is challenging. It's demanding and engaging and, above all, a deeply internal process.
As is writing. And lately, I've found I don't often have the stamina to do both.
Until I do. And when that's the case, I can do nothing but write. Take now, for example. I've got a big meal in the oven that will be served in an hour, and no kitchen table to serve it because my table is currently piled in onions and jars and jackets and dead hairdryers. (Well, just one dead hairdryer) Yet here I sit, typing. I dare you to pull me away. (warning: DON'T) (Note: other examples of Gotta Write Syndrome here and here.)
In general, though, writing has been difficult. For months, I struggled with the changes I'd begun to notice in myself. Putting them in writing took too much effort. Now, finally, I can accept that I am changing, and that soon, the time for deliberate changes may come. I can roll with it now, instead of suffocating my thought life in panic and fear. In the meantime, there are questions. So many questions. Big questions. Specific questions.
The answers will need to be specific, too. I'll have to combat the navel-gazing with action. Books. Conversations. Trips to Goodwill. Lifestyle changes. Real ones. Noticeable ones.
I can feel a shift inside of me. A paradigm shift, one friend called it. She was referring to a spiritual shift, but I've recently realized that while this journey began with spiritual questions, it certainly won't end there.
As in a store-closing sale, everything in my head and life is up for grabs. Kids: have 'em, or not? Cars: should I swear off them as a means for transportation? How much do I really care about the environment? Political affiliation: what do I really think? If what I think and what I think is possible are two different courses taken by two different parties, should I affiliate at all? Lifestyle: which values are my priorities, what are Brian's, and how will we get them off the paper and into our day-to-day living? How will those decisions impact our choices about spending, saving, giving, travel and/or home ownership? What about food and diet changes?
Even my theology is under intense scrutiny right now. Who, or what, is God? What are God's attributes? Do I really buy into Jesus? Am I a Christian with doubts, or an agnostic with hope? (Does that even matter?) Will I be a church-goer this time next year? As a self-professed lifelong Christian, new questions about God, Jesus and the Church are troubling, to make a delightfully inadequate understatement. (See aforementioned panic and fear.)
Ultimately, there are no guarantees. I'm traveling without a map, unsure of my destination.
Systemic change. It's happening. And when I'm through, I won't be the same.
So what does all of that mean for this space?
To begin, I think all of the above could be pointed to as the cause for the swings in my presence here. I've struggled to maintain the conversation, and I find myself swinging from intense and deep discussions to menial fluff. This is another, albeit less pressing, recurring debate: I know enough about social media to know that this is not how to build and engage an audience. On the other hand, this is just a cat blog, not the launch pad for my world domination.
Questions aside, I intend to stick around. There's a lot more to process. I invite you to witness this journey, however it unfolds.
11.10.2010
more on radical honesty
A couple of weeks ago, I shared a little bit about my thoughts, past and present, on something I'm calling radical honesty.
Many of us have what is generally known as 'trust issues' and I am admittedly one of the many. I've been in relationships, romantic and otherwise, that have been strained, if not decimated, by dishonesty. (I've also been guilty of being 'that girl' - the one who won't cut a guy loose when she's not interested, and instead tries to give him hints to get him to go away, because she doesn't want to be mean. Many thanks to my friend Gary for setting me straight.)
Where was I? Oh yeah...trust issues. I acquired mine through the normal circuits. Knowing firsthand the damage dishonesty can do, I've avoided it for a while now. It was never a deliberate decision of mine to "be more honest" or anything like that. I just recognized how I didn't want to be and lived accordingly.
And since there was no big 'moment' that shaped my view of secrecy and white lies, I've never really thought much about how different I might be in my (lack of) permissiveness toward white lies and hidden behavior.
Let me magnify that. I hate white lies. I hate secrets. And it infuriates me when people lie to me or hide things from me - especially if they're doing it "for my own good." No thank you, I'll be the judge of that.
Does all of that mean I'm heartless and rude, saying anything that comes to mind and not accounting for anyone else's feelings? Probably not. I'm sure there are times when Dr. House might call me "CB" and I've had more than one conversation with my husband about how to be empathetic because empathy doesn't come naturally to me. In general, though, I really think a lot of what comes across as me being negative has more to do with my social awkwardness than any truth-driven abrasiveness. And here's hoping that doesn't happen too often either.
I've never been exceptionally "good" at "people." My head injury hasn't helped matters.
In looking at my recent shift, I can see that it wasn't a big stretch to go from thinking it's important to be 'more honest than most' to considering radical honesty as an approach to life and, particularly, marriage.
Part of what I want/expect/hope for my marriage is that we deliberately strengthen our bond by sharing ourselves with each other. An integral part of that, for me, is not keeping secrets. Sure, there are things about Brian that I don't necessarily 'need' to know about. I think that's true of any relationship.
But if I ask my husband questions about something, I want (and expect) straight answers. We both have access to all credit cards and bank statements, phone records, etc. I don't even hide my journal from him, and it can get pretty real in there sometimes.
I am not down with the secrecy. Not no way, not no how.
Do I practice radical honesty? No, I can't say I do. I can't say I never, ever, ever lie or mislead. But I do make an effort to be pretty close to radical.
A lot of people think it's normal to tell white lies, keep secrets, and generally mislead when it works out to their favor. What's your take?
Many of us have what is generally known as 'trust issues' and I am admittedly one of the many. I've been in relationships, romantic and otherwise, that have been strained, if not decimated, by dishonesty. (I've also been guilty of being 'that girl' - the one who won't cut a guy loose when she's not interested, and instead tries to give him hints to get him to go away, because she doesn't want to be mean. Many thanks to my friend Gary for setting me straight.)
Where was I? Oh yeah...trust issues. I acquired mine through the normal circuits. Knowing firsthand the damage dishonesty can do, I've avoided it for a while now. It was never a deliberate decision of mine to "be more honest" or anything like that. I just recognized how I didn't want to be and lived accordingly.
And since there was no big 'moment' that shaped my view of secrecy and white lies, I've never really thought much about how different I might be in my (lack of) permissiveness toward white lies and hidden behavior.
Let me magnify that. I hate white lies. I hate secrets. And it infuriates me when people lie to me or hide things from me - especially if they're doing it "for my own good." No thank you, I'll be the judge of that.
Does all of that mean I'm heartless and rude, saying anything that comes to mind and not accounting for anyone else's feelings? Probably not. I'm sure there are times when Dr. House might call me "CB" and I've had more than one conversation with my husband about how to be empathetic because empathy doesn't come naturally to me. In general, though, I really think a lot of what comes across as me being negative has more to do with my social awkwardness than any truth-driven abrasiveness. And here's hoping that doesn't happen too often either.
I've never been exceptionally "good" at "people." My head injury hasn't helped matters.
In looking at my recent shift, I can see that it wasn't a big stretch to go from thinking it's important to be 'more honest than most' to considering radical honesty as an approach to life and, particularly, marriage.
Part of what I want/expect/hope for my marriage is that we deliberately strengthen our bond by sharing ourselves with each other. An integral part of that, for me, is not keeping secrets. Sure, there are things about Brian that I don't necessarily 'need' to know about. I think that's true of any relationship.
But if I ask my husband questions about something, I want (and expect) straight answers. We both have access to all credit cards and bank statements, phone records, etc. I don't even hide my journal from him, and it can get pretty real in there sometimes.
I am not down with the secrecy. Not no way, not no how.
Do I practice radical honesty? No, I can't say I do. I can't say I never, ever, ever lie or mislead. But I do make an effort to be pretty close to radical.
A lot of people think it's normal to tell white lies, keep secrets, and generally mislead when it works out to their favor. What's your take?
10.13.2010
too deep for a wednesday: radical honesty
Radical honesty. You know, never lying. About anything. Not even a little bit.
What's your reaction to that concept?
I first read about the idea of radical honesty in a marriage book. The therapist advocates radical honesty with his clients, and he says it has neve been a mistake. That's not to say it's always easy for his clients, but it never ended in divorce and always led to the couples feeling closer and that much more bonded.
To be honest, I scoffed. I had a hard time with the notion of being 100% honest, always, about everything, with Brian. Who does that? Nobody, right? You're rushing to get out the door, and your spouse asks if he/she looks ok. Yes, the answer is always yes...even if really the answer is maybe or even no. Pure honesty doesn't really matter, especially when it comes to trivial things.
And that's just the little stuff. What about the big things? What if you've been married for 25 years and have a great life, but there was that business trip you took 17 years ago that maybe wasn't all business. Is it really important that you tell your wife that you cheated on her, once, a billion years ago? Should you tell her, causing her to suffer for your regretted indescretion from long before? No. If it were me, I wouldn't want to know.
But then I thought some more. About my past, about marriage, about what my faith teaches, and about the kind of legacy I might want to leave. And I might have changed my mind about radical honesty.
I'm probably going to keep reflecting on this for a while, but I'd love to hear your thoughts today.
Update: Read part two here.
What's your reaction to that concept?
I first read about the idea of radical honesty in a marriage book. The therapist advocates radical honesty with his clients, and he says it has neve been a mistake. That's not to say it's always easy for his clients, but it never ended in divorce and always led to the couples feeling closer and that much more bonded.
To be honest, I scoffed. I had a hard time with the notion of being 100% honest, always, about everything, with Brian. Who does that? Nobody, right? You're rushing to get out the door, and your spouse asks if he/she looks ok. Yes, the answer is always yes...even if really the answer is maybe or even no. Pure honesty doesn't really matter, especially when it comes to trivial things.
And that's just the little stuff. What about the big things? What if you've been married for 25 years and have a great life, but there was that business trip you took 17 years ago that maybe wasn't all business. Is it really important that you tell your wife that you cheated on her, once, a billion years ago? Should you tell her, causing her to suffer for your regretted indescretion from long before? No. If it were me, I wouldn't want to know.
But then I thought some more. About my past, about marriage, about what my faith teaches, and about the kind of legacy I might want to leave. And I might have changed my mind about radical honesty.
I'm probably going to keep reflecting on this for a while, but I'd love to hear your thoughts today.
Update: Read part two here.
7.28.2010
Escapism and the Lonely Housewife
I am kind of an escapist. When the going gets tough, I run and hide.
I've been known to escape through various methods. I'll spend all weekend reading novels, and only reading novels. I will stop answering email or phone calls for a week at a time. I will get under the covers and stare at the wall for hours. Occasionally, but not often, I will get in the car and actually go somewhere, kind of loll around for hours. I shut down. I pull the shades on life and let my mind..just....disappear.
It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to realize that this is maybe not the best approach to difficulty. And as I've been reading a lot lately about mindfulness (marriage isn't the only self-help topic I love!), I've been trying a new approach:
Revel when I like something. Take action when I don't like something.
(I've had a few opportunities to try this out in these past few weeks.)
Because of the reveling and the action-ing, I've been up to some fun things lately.
All in all, I feel better doing this whole 'stay present' thing. I feel more relaxed, actually. When I sit there and zone out, and then get agitated about how I'm not doing anything when there's so much to do, I pick one thing that I could do, right now, pretty fast. And then I get up and get sidetracked by three other things go make a sandwich have to take Rory out go do that thing.
Keeping in motion. That's what it's all about, for me. I've been somewhat aware of my tendency to stall out for a few years now, but as I've taken on more and more adult responsibility, it has become the glaring issue that it really is. I'm realizing just how big of a problem it is to just...stop living.
I'm one of those people who doesn't do well when living alone. I need the accountability of a roommate, an actual person who will make an appearance every evening and every morning, or I will do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I won't cook, or clean, or sleep, or go anywhere other than to work and back. I'll maybe eat a bowl of cereal or a Hershey bar, the entire day. I just kind of...shut down.
I know, it's so weird!
Granted, I was in and out of a multi-year depression that ranged from 'Ok, I can handle this' to 'I oughtn't operate heavy machinery if I manage to get out of bed today' for most of college and through the first year or so that we were married. So that's what, 7+ years that I was on the brink? I'm better now, so much better, so I don't know if becoming inert is something I'd deal with these days. But I'm not about to play with that book of matches.
So with Brian gone all last week, it was really important to me that I keep in motion, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I can handle being alone, and upheaval at home, and working a new job, AND a border collie, all at once.
I'm so proud of myself right now. I missed Brian, a lot, but that didn't stop me. I didn't eat as well or sleep as much as I should have, but I did eat, and I did sleep. And as much as that dog always sometimes irritates me, she does keep me in motion.
All in all, I feel like I've made some real progress in the past year. Inside and out.
And I can't wait to show you what's on the wall above our headboard now!!
*Any pointers on getting wax stains out of seersucker? The wax is gone (I did the iron thing) but the stain, it remains. I've tried boiling hot water, soaking overnight in oxy-clean, bleach pens, and vinegar. Nothing is working. I am sad.
I've been known to escape through various methods. I'll spend all weekend reading novels, and only reading novels. I will stop answering email or phone calls for a week at a time. I will get under the covers and stare at the wall for hours. Occasionally, but not often, I will get in the car and actually go somewhere, kind of loll around for hours. I shut down. I pull the shades on life and let my mind..just....disappear.
It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to realize that this is maybe not the best approach to difficulty. And as I've been reading a lot lately about mindfulness (marriage isn't the only self-help topic I love!), I've been trying a new approach:
Revel when I like something. Take action when I don't like something.
(I've had a few opportunities to try this out in these past few weeks.)
Because of the reveling and the action-ing, I've been up to some fun things lately.
- I finished the quilt I started back in September.
- I 'redecorated' the apartment and now it's much less cluttered and more cohesive (and it looks less like a bachelorette pad and more like a man lives here too, actually).
- I attacked a green wax stain* on a cute (and expensive!) seersucker dress. (Ashley: 1; Stain: 300).
- I set up a painless plan to reduce the amount of clothing I own (a hybrid of JD's method and Joshua's method, minus the spare closet) (PS - two great blogs, those two!).
- I spent an afternoon thinking about how I should be vacuuming.
All in all, I feel better doing this whole 'stay present' thing. I feel more relaxed, actually. When I sit there and zone out, and then get agitated about how I'm not doing anything when there's so much to do, I pick one thing that I could do, right now, pretty fast. And then I get up and get sidetracked by three other things go make a sandwich have to take Rory out go do that thing.
Keeping in motion. That's what it's all about, for me. I've been somewhat aware of my tendency to stall out for a few years now, but as I've taken on more and more adult responsibility, it has become the glaring issue that it really is. I'm realizing just how big of a problem it is to just...stop living.
I'm one of those people who doesn't do well when living alone. I need the accountability of a roommate, an actual person who will make an appearance every evening and every morning, or I will do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I won't cook, or clean, or sleep, or go anywhere other than to work and back. I'll maybe eat a bowl of cereal or a Hershey bar, the entire day. I just kind of...shut down.
I know, it's so weird!
Granted, I was in and out of a multi-year depression that ranged from 'Ok, I can handle this' to 'I oughtn't operate heavy machinery if I manage to get out of bed today' for most of college and through the first year or so that we were married. So that's what, 7+ years that I was on the brink? I'm better now, so much better, so I don't know if becoming inert is something I'd deal with these days. But I'm not about to play with that book of matches.
So with Brian gone all last week, it was really important to me that I keep in motion, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I can handle being alone, and upheaval at home, and working a new job, AND a border collie, all at once.
I'm so proud of myself right now. I missed Brian, a lot, but that didn't stop me. I didn't eat as well or sleep as much as I should have, but I did eat, and I did sleep. And as much as that dog always sometimes irritates me, she does keep me in motion.
All in all, I feel like I've made some real progress in the past year. Inside and out.
And I can't wait to show you what's on the wall above our headboard now!!
*Any pointers on getting wax stains out of seersucker? The wax is gone (I did the iron thing) but the stain, it remains. I've tried boiling hot water, soaking overnight in oxy-clean, bleach pens, and vinegar. Nothing is working. I am sad.
6.14.2010
This is not the story you think it is
Yes, I'm still on my marriage self-help book, but this time with a memoir twist.
Back in August an essay from the NYT circled around. You probably saw it. I did, and I was (like many other) amazed by it.
The author, Laura Munson, was informed at the beginning of one summer by her husband that he did not love her, he probably never did, and that he was moving out. He added that the kids wanted him to be happy and would understand.
In short, she didn't buy it. The essay is remarkable; the response was astounding. (Read it if you haven't yet.) She recently published the book she wrote that summer, chronicling her 'marital adventure' and how she made it.
Having my fair share of experiences witnessing marriage gone bad, I knew I wanted to read her book.
Well, I just finished reading it. I'm in that post-intense book reading stupor and I'm feeling compelled to write. To ponder here at the keyboard, and ask myself a few unanswerable questions.
Her memoir is less how-to or tell-all, and more personal journey. She writes about taking responsibility for your own happiness - not letting things beyond control determine your happiness. Throw in the 'live in the moment' catch phrase/concept and you have an idea of the gist of her journey.
But hokey as it looks in that paragraph up there, this is really can be a life-altering concept if you let it. I'm beginning to think about my own journey, and how much I might be letting non-me things determine my own, for lack of a better word, happiness. Her experience of her husband's dis-affection was one long exercise in stepping back, letting go, and keeping an eye on the big picture - on his big picture. At least that's how I read it.
Let me just say this: This is not the story you think it is is a powerful book. I'm not sure I'm ready to wrap my head around everything it offers. Usually when I finish a book, my favorite thing to do is pick out and start my next book. But when I finished this one, I sat up, set it down, and kind of stared for a minute. Walked around, tried to chew on it, and thought about nothing instead. I thought about how I might have reacted to that situation...where I might have reacted differently...what might have been my motivation to acting that way. I don't have kids, I don't have an idyllic homestead in Montana (though I would really really like one) and I don't have 15 years of marriage behind me. Would I yell and slam doors, or could I find some composure and stability? Would I shut down, or could I find patches of joy every day? Would I hit the Stoli when the family comes to visit for two weeks with raised eyebrows? Would I find ways to be productive, or would I simply have to focus on survival? Who would I look to for support and advice - is there anyone in my life, right now, who could play that role for me? (I do have the tricky-fun situation of having nearly my entire social life wrapped up in Brian's place of employ, after all.)
Fortunately, I don't have to face this situation right now. My questions don't necessarily have to be answered, in theory or in practice. I get that, and I am so grateful. But I do know what it's like to wonder how, or if, you will make it through the next week, or day, or conversation, with your life intact.
If you've ever been in that place, you might want to read Laura Munson's book. And then you might want to read it again. I know I will.
Back in August an essay from the NYT circled around. You probably saw it. I did, and I was (like many other) amazed by it.
The author, Laura Munson, was informed at the beginning of one summer by her husband that he did not love her, he probably never did, and that he was moving out. He added that the kids wanted him to be happy and would understand.
In short, she didn't buy it. The essay is remarkable; the response was astounding. (Read it if you haven't yet.) She recently published the book she wrote that summer, chronicling her 'marital adventure' and how she made it.
Having my fair share of experiences witnessing marriage gone bad, I knew I wanted to read her book.
Well, I just finished reading it. I'm in that post-intense book reading stupor and I'm feeling compelled to write. To ponder here at the keyboard, and ask myself a few unanswerable questions.
Her memoir is less how-to or tell-all, and more personal journey. She writes about taking responsibility for your own happiness - not letting things beyond control determine your happiness. Throw in the 'live in the moment' catch phrase/concept and you have an idea of the gist of her journey.
But hokey as it looks in that paragraph up there, this is really can be a life-altering concept if you let it. I'm beginning to think about my own journey, and how much I might be letting non-me things determine my own, for lack of a better word, happiness. Her experience of her husband's dis-affection was one long exercise in stepping back, letting go, and keeping an eye on the big picture - on his big picture. At least that's how I read it.
Let me just say this: This is not the story you think it is is a powerful book. I'm not sure I'm ready to wrap my head around everything it offers. Usually when I finish a book, my favorite thing to do is pick out and start my next book. But when I finished this one, I sat up, set it down, and kind of stared for a minute. Walked around, tried to chew on it, and thought about nothing instead. I thought about how I might have reacted to that situation...where I might have reacted differently...what might have been my motivation to acting that way. I don't have kids, I don't have an idyllic homestead in Montana (though I would really really like one) and I don't have 15 years of marriage behind me. Would I yell and slam doors, or could I find some composure and stability? Would I shut down, or could I find patches of joy every day? Would I hit the Stoli when the family comes to visit for two weeks with raised eyebrows? Would I find ways to be productive, or would I simply have to focus on survival? Who would I look to for support and advice - is there anyone in my life, right now, who could play that role for me? (I do have the tricky-fun situation of having nearly my entire social life wrapped up in Brian's place of employ, after all.)
Fortunately, I don't have to face this situation right now. My questions don't necessarily have to be answered, in theory or in practice. I get that, and I am so grateful. But I do know what it's like to wonder how, or if, you will make it through the next week, or day, or conversation, with your life intact.
If you've ever been in that place, you might want to read Laura Munson's book. And then you might want to read it again. I know I will.
6.01.2010
Self Help & Marriage
I have a confession to make: I love self help books.
Especially relationship books.
Oh, and domesticity books. The two topics are surprisingly related, at least for me, at this point in my life. High five to all the 'housewives' out there! But that's another thought for another day.
I've been reading self helpy books for a while now. I probably started really reading self help books in college, though if you want to get technical, I started in about the 7th grade when I started reading devotional books and magazines.
I come across the self help books, especially the relationship ones, in different ways. Some books catch my eye in the book store. Some are recommendations from friends. Some get a lot of buzz on TV or blogs.
Many of the books I've read are not memorable, because they don't tell me anything I didn't already know. And a few of the highly buzzed about and recommended books did nothing for me *cough Captivating cough-cough Love&Respect ahem* despite guarantees that they would be life-changing. There's nothing wrong with these books, they just didn't hit me where I needed to be hit, I guess.
Every now and then I come across a self help book that I find to be very helpful and worthwhile. Most of these are marriage-related - or at least relationship-oriented. The first one, though, is NOT. The title of the book is It's Called a Breakup Because It's Broken. I read this when I was going through a particularly bad (read: devastating) breakup, and it was just the kick in the pants I needed to get over the guy and get on with my life. That book empowered me to take and event that could have been months or years of agony and listlessness, and turn it into a major growth period instead. Three months after the breakup, I met Brian; less than a year later, we were married. If I hadn't have read this book, I wouldn't have been ready to notice the man who became my husband. A lot of my healthy self-esteem and unwillingness to be anyone's doormat can be attributed to this book, as weird as that sounds. NOTE: This book has some attitude. It's for grown-ups. There are bad words in it. Not gratuitous profanity, but there is some. If you don't like that, don't read it.
Some of the other marriage books that I've read and thought were helpful are the classic Mars/Venus (If you haven't read it, finding a good summary would probably be enough. It is a little repetitive and probably 75-100 pages too long, although the concept is really strong if you can get past the corny metaphor.) and His Needs, Her Needs. I'd recommend these to just about anybody. Other greats include the Love Languages (also: the 5 Languages of Apology, also great...I need pretty much all of them to consider an apology an apology, hah) and Boundaries, though these two are the foundations of some 'sets' of books and are not strictly for marriage relationships (though some of the subsequent editions are).
All of the books I've mentioned so far appear pretty often on the shelves of thrift stores I frequent. The links are to Amazon pages, where they are also pretty cheap. And in case you're wondering, I am NOT an Amazon affiliate because I live in Colorado and Amazon hates Colorado.
I also recently read Sacred Influence (aimed at wives) and thought it was great, and I'm hoping to read Sacred Marriage (the precursor) next. My dear friends Dave and Angie gave us Sacred Marriage when Brian and I were engaged. I wanted us to read it together, but that never happened. I started to read it myself, but it kept bugging me that Brian wouldn't read it with me (something about grad school and internships and no mental stamina or something, mumble mutter) that I put it down. I'm over it (the being bugged, I mean) and will start reading it once I get back from an upcoming trip. It's high time.
For some reason I can no longer recall, in mid-May I went on some kind of Marriage Book Library Binge and I got a ton of marriage books from the library. I've been poking around at them for a little while, but I've only finished one so far. And it was, in my opinion, GREAT. It's called Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage. The title is a little misleading, I think, because it's not as much about using laughter to improve your marriage (I had images of lots of variations on the Have Fun! theme) as it is a marriage self-help book written with humor. And it's a really good one. In the first half, I had lightbulb moment after lightbulb moment. This is a book I plan to buy and re-read eventually, so I can make all my little notes in the margins. The second half-ish deals with specific issues that face marriages, and since a lot of these issues aren't relevant to us, I didn't glean as much from those chapters, which, I mean, is fine. They would still be helpful to people in those situations, I'm guessing.
So in short: if you're looking for a self help book, particularly a marriage or relationship book, I'm your gal :)
Do you read self help books? If so, what are some of the ones you've really liked or found to be helpful?
Especially relationship books.
Oh, and domesticity books. The two topics are surprisingly related, at least for me, at this point in my life. High five to all the 'housewives' out there! But that's another thought for another day.
I've been reading self helpy books for a while now. I probably started really reading self help books in college, though if you want to get technical, I started in about the 7th grade when I started reading devotional books and magazines.
I come across the self help books, especially the relationship ones, in different ways. Some books catch my eye in the book store. Some are recommendations from friends. Some get a lot of buzz on TV or blogs.
Many of the books I've read are not memorable, because they don't tell me anything I didn't already know. And a few of the highly buzzed about and recommended books did nothing for me *cough Captivating cough-cough Love&Respect ahem* despite guarantees that they would be life-changing. There's nothing wrong with these books, they just didn't hit me where I needed to be hit, I guess.
Every now and then I come across a self help book that I find to be very helpful and worthwhile. Most of these are marriage-related - or at least relationship-oriented. The first one, though, is NOT. The title of the book is It's Called a Breakup Because It's Broken. I read this when I was going through a particularly bad (read: devastating) breakup, and it was just the kick in the pants I needed to get over the guy and get on with my life. That book empowered me to take and event that could have been months or years of agony and listlessness, and turn it into a major growth period instead. Three months after the breakup, I met Brian; less than a year later, we were married. If I hadn't have read this book, I wouldn't have been ready to notice the man who became my husband. A lot of my healthy self-esteem and unwillingness to be anyone's doormat can be attributed to this book, as weird as that sounds. NOTE: This book has some attitude. It's for grown-ups. There are bad words in it. Not gratuitous profanity, but there is some. If you don't like that, don't read it.
Some of the other marriage books that I've read and thought were helpful are the classic Mars/Venus (If you haven't read it, finding a good summary would probably be enough. It is a little repetitive and probably 75-100 pages too long, although the concept is really strong if you can get past the corny metaphor.) and His Needs, Her Needs. I'd recommend these to just about anybody. Other greats include the Love Languages (also: the 5 Languages of Apology, also great...I need pretty much all of them to consider an apology an apology, hah) and Boundaries, though these two are the foundations of some 'sets' of books and are not strictly for marriage relationships (though some of the subsequent editions are).
All of the books I've mentioned so far appear pretty often on the shelves of thrift stores I frequent. The links are to Amazon pages, where they are also pretty cheap. And in case you're wondering, I am NOT an Amazon affiliate because I live in Colorado and Amazon hates Colorado.
I also recently read Sacred Influence (aimed at wives) and thought it was great, and I'm hoping to read Sacred Marriage (the precursor) next. My dear friends Dave and Angie gave us Sacred Marriage when Brian and I were engaged. I wanted us to read it together, but that never happened. I started to read it myself, but it kept bugging me that Brian wouldn't read it with me (something about grad school and internships and no mental stamina or something, mumble mutter) that I put it down. I'm over it (the being bugged, I mean) and will start reading it once I get back from an upcoming trip. It's high time.
For some reason I can no longer recall, in mid-May I went on some kind of Marriage Book Library Binge and I got a ton of marriage books from the library. I've been poking around at them for a little while, but I've only finished one so far. And it was, in my opinion, GREAT. It's called Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage. The title is a little misleading, I think, because it's not as much about using laughter to improve your marriage (I had images of lots of variations on the Have Fun! theme) as it is a marriage self-help book written with humor. And it's a really good one. In the first half, I had lightbulb moment after lightbulb moment. This is a book I plan to buy and re-read eventually, so I can make all my little notes in the margins. The second half-ish deals with specific issues that face marriages, and since a lot of these issues aren't relevant to us, I didn't glean as much from those chapters, which, I mean, is fine. They would still be helpful to people in those situations, I'm guessing.
So in short: if you're looking for a self help book, particularly a marriage or relationship book, I'm your gal :)
Do you read self help books? If so, what are some of the ones you've really liked or found to be helpful?
5.07.2010
Learning Search Engine Optimization
There's something so refreshing, and satisfying, about learning a new skill.
Recently I began a new learning journey, and if you paid any attention whatsoever to the title of this post, you know what I'm doing. Or at least, you know what what I'm doing is called.
Search Engine Optimization is what it's called, or SEO for short. SEO makes a website more noticeable on search engines. The more you're noticed, the higher up in the results list you are, and therefore the more hits you get. For many websites, it's all about the hits.
In practice, SEO means making changes to things like your page title and 'meta descriptions' (your page's subtitle, in a way) so that keywords are present.
I've been a writer for many years. I've been an internet user since 1997. Learning SEO feels like a natural extension of those two attributes. It's something I've wanted to learn basically since I first found out about it more than a year ago, and to be learning it, and getting PAID to learn it, is pretty awesome in my book.
It's also pretty cool to be learning all about a subject that interests me anyway - the company whose website I'm "SEOing" specializes in a product that I consume on a regular bases. (Twenty bonus points if you can guess what that is.)
Recently I began a new learning journey, and if you paid any attention whatsoever to the title of this post, you know what I'm doing. Or at least, you know what what I'm doing is called.
Search Engine Optimization is what it's called, or SEO for short. SEO makes a website more noticeable on search engines. The more you're noticed, the higher up in the results list you are, and therefore the more hits you get. For many websites, it's all about the hits.
In practice, SEO means making changes to things like your page title and 'meta descriptions' (your page's subtitle, in a way) so that keywords are present.
I've been a writer for many years. I've been an internet user since 1997. Learning SEO feels like a natural extension of those two attributes. It's something I've wanted to learn basically since I first found out about it more than a year ago, and to be learning it, and getting PAID to learn it, is pretty awesome in my book.
It's also pretty cool to be learning all about a subject that interests me anyway - the company whose website I'm "SEOing" specializes in a product that I consume on a regular bases. (Twenty bonus points if you can guess what that is.)
4.08.2010
what's your purpose?
Rick Warren, author of the whole Purpose-Driven series of books/journals/CDs/DVDs/lectures about the purpose-driven life, church, youth, family, marriage, sibling rivalry, used car dealership, and other what-have-yous, really tapped into something when he released his first of the montage, the Purpose Driven Life. It resonated with so many people for a number of reasons, but I like to keep it shallow here at Chez Duckling (not actually true) and I'm going to go out on a limb (also not actually true) and suggest that a big reason why Warren's first Purpose book did so well is that people are searching for their purpose.
Finding your purpose, waking up with a sense of purpose, getting all your stuff done with a sense of purpose, living with purpose, strikes a chord for many of us. A lot of us haven't found our purpose - or A purpose, yet, and we look at those around us who are living their lives with meaning or intention and wonder how we can get that.
I don't speak from experience, of course, as my life is veritably riddled with purpose (NOT TRUE), but I know many of you out there might be wandering.
Like me.
So what's your secret? Do you know what you were 'meant' to do, and if so, how did you figure it out? Or maybe, like me, your secret is that you have no idea what you're doing, and you're making it up as you go along.
What say ye?
Finding your purpose, waking up with a sense of purpose, getting all your stuff done with a sense of purpose, living with purpose, strikes a chord for many of us. A lot of us haven't found our purpose - or A purpose, yet, and we look at those around us who are living their lives with meaning or intention and wonder how we can get that.
I don't speak from experience, of course, as my life is veritably riddled with purpose (NOT TRUE), but I know many of you out there might be wandering.
Like me.
So what's your secret? Do you know what you were 'meant' to do, and if so, how did you figure it out? Or maybe, like me, your secret is that you have no idea what you're doing, and you're making it up as you go along.
What say ye?
2.17.2010
Finding your purpose
Rick Warren, author of the whole Purpose-Driven series of books/journals/CDs/DVDs/
Finding your purpose, waking up with a sense of purpose, getting all your stuff done with a sense of purpose, living with purpose, strikes a chord for many of us. A lot of us haven't found our purpose - or A purpose, yet, and we look at those around us who are living their lives with meaning or intention and wonder how we can get that.
I don't speak from experience, of course, as my life is veritably riddled with purpose (NOT TRUE), but I know many of you out there might be wandering. Maybe you went to nursing school with the idea that you wanted to help people, but you haven't figured out what kind of help you can best give. Maybe you're like me - you're good at a lot of stuff and there are many things that capture your interest and even hold it for a while, but really you're just floating around waiting for something interesting to happen.
A while ago I came across an article at Lifehacker that got my attention. The title of the post is Discover Your Life's Purpose in Around 20 Minutes - Or Not. It got MY attention, anyway. Essentially the premiss is, ask yourself what your life purpose is, and keep answering it (on paper) until you elicit an emotional response (you cry). Could be a cool little experiment.
Now, I really thought about this challenge a lot. I though and pondered and wondered, but I never took a good chunk of time to sit down and come up with response after response until I really got to the heart of it. But I did do a lot of reflecting. What were some of the things I did as work - not as fun - that brought me the most joy, the most satisfaction? And time after time, I came up with answers like 'reading Tamara's thesis' or 'editing/designing/formatting the newsletter' or 'writing that interview story about the girl who started the campus fashion magazine.' I used to think this meant I should work for a newspaper, or even a magazine, as a copyeditor. But some of my most unhappy times were in newsrooms and computer labs. This got me to thinking about becoming a freelance editor. Maybe, just maybe, that's my life's purpose. From a professional standpoint, at least.
Usually when you discover your life's purpose, you jump in because you can't wait to get started, right? Well, not in my case. I sat on the idea for months. And then I found out I was moving halfway across the country, so my husband could begin work. That's when I decided that maybe, just maybe, I could do this freelancing thing. And then I got bogged down in the details. It wasn't until I spent an hour talking to a life coach that I got really motivated. She encouraged me to jump in, get started, and work it all out as I go. I didn't need a map or blueprint or outline just to get started. She encouraged me to build a website quick, promote it quick, and go from there.
So, I've taken some proactive steps. I built a professional editing website. I've got a stack of library books on the ins and outs of a web-based business, how to start them in Colorado, &c. And this has been fulfilling so far, but I'm at the very beginning, and it isn't quite 'doing it' for me yet. There's still a long list of things I need to do to get this idea really off the ground. For now, each small step makes a difference and is satisfying. But is editing my true purpose? I don't know yet. It really might be. I'm willing to give it a shot.
Finding your purpose, waking up with a sense of purpose, getting all your stuff done with a sense of purpose, living with purpose, strikes a chord for many of us. A lot of us haven't found our purpose - or A purpose, yet, and we look at those around us who are living their lives with meaning or intention and wonder how we can get that.
I don't speak from experience, of course, as my life is veritably riddled with purpose (NOT TRUE), but I know many of you out there might be wandering. Maybe you went to nursing school with the idea that you wanted to help people, but you haven't figured out what kind of help you can best give. Maybe you're like me - you're good at a lot of stuff and there are many things that capture your interest and even hold it for a while, but really you're just floating around waiting for something interesting to happen.
A while ago I came across an article at Lifehacker that got my attention. The title of the post is Discover Your Life's Purpose in Around 20 Minutes - Or Not. It got MY attention, anyway. Essentially the premiss is, ask yourself what your life purpose is, and keep answering it (on paper) until you elicit an emotional response (you cry). Could be a cool little experiment.
Now, I really thought about this challenge a lot. I though and pondered and wondered, but I never took a good chunk of time to sit down and come up with response after response until I really got to the heart of it. But I did do a lot of reflecting. What were some of the things I did as work - not as fun - that brought me the most joy, the most satisfaction? And time after time, I came up with answers like 'reading Tamara's thesis' or 'editing/designing/formatting the newsletter' or 'writing that interview story about the girl who started the campus fashion magazine.' I used to think this meant I should work for a newspaper, or even a magazine, as a copyeditor. But some of my most unhappy times were in newsrooms and computer labs. This got me to thinking about becoming a freelance editor. Maybe, just maybe, that's my life's purpose. From a professional standpoint, at least.
Usually when you discover your life's purpose, you jump in because you can't wait to get started, right? Well, not in my case. I sat on the idea for months. And then I found out I was moving halfway across the country, so my husband could begin work. That's when I decided that maybe, just maybe, I could do this freelancing thing. And then I got bogged down in the details. It wasn't until I spent an hour talking to a life coach that I got really motivated. She encouraged me to jump in, get started, and work it all out as I go. I didn't need a map or blueprint or outline just to get started. She encouraged me to build a website quick, promote it quick, and go from there.
So, I've taken some proactive steps. I built a professional editing website. I've got a stack of library books on the ins and outs of a web-based business, how to start them in Colorado, &c. And this has been fulfilling so far, but I'm at the very beginning, and it isn't quite 'doing it' for me yet. There's still a long list of things I need to do to get this idea really off the ground. For now, each small step makes a difference and is satisfying. But is editing my true purpose? I don't know yet. It really might be. I'm willing to give it a shot.
1.11.2010
Chill.
Tuesday was a bad day for me. It was really one of those days - which you expect - during which the puppy was making me crazy, I'd fallen on the ice twice so I was in pain, and I kept staring at the piles and lists and to-dos, feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed.
Outside, it got cold in Denver. That afternoon some big heavy snow clouds flew in over the mountains and the temps dropped around 10 degrees. Which was just as well because I didn't want to go outside anyway. Brian had meetings all day and into the evening, and by the time it was about 6:30, I had had my fill of dogs and whining and cleaning and not getting things done.
So I had myself a good cry. The angry kind, with the hot, bitter tears, and the feelings of being overwhelmed and underappreciated and just plain exhausted swirling around, the terrible accompanying thoughts going in and out of my mind.
There's nothing like a good cry.
And there's nothing like coming out of a good cry. I let it roll until everything quieted down, and then I decided something had to change. I needed some ME time. Some mental space. A break.
I knew I had about half an hour or so before Brian would be home, so I crated the dogs with some food, turned on some soothing music (Norah Jones, if you must know) and I got comfortable on the couch and read through some gardening books I'd picked up at the library the day before.
There is nothing so hopeful and restorative as looking through gardening books in the dead of winter. And y'all, I made another list.
Two lists, actually.
Of the green thumb things I wanted to try this year. Vegetables and herbs I wanted to grow, namely. And somewhere on that list is also 'find a potted lemon tree.' Because, for some reason, I have my little heart set on having a lemon tree.
When Brian came home, I was in a better frame of mind (though, I must admit, not for long enough to get us through the evening without incident).
Do you ever have days that make you feel like pulling out your hair, tossing everything out the window, and hiding? What do you do to calm yourself down? How do you get past the overwhelm?
Outside, it got cold in Denver. That afternoon some big heavy snow clouds flew in over the mountains and the temps dropped around 10 degrees. Which was just as well because I didn't want to go outside anyway. Brian had meetings all day and into the evening, and by the time it was about 6:30, I had had my fill of dogs and whining and cleaning and not getting things done.
So I had myself a good cry. The angry kind, with the hot, bitter tears, and the feelings of being overwhelmed and underappreciated and just plain exhausted swirling around, the terrible accompanying thoughts going in and out of my mind.
There's nothing like a good cry.
And there's nothing like coming out of a good cry. I let it roll until everything quieted down, and then I decided something had to change. I needed some ME time. Some mental space. A break.
I knew I had about half an hour or so before Brian would be home, so I crated the dogs with some food, turned on some soothing music (Norah Jones, if you must know) and I got comfortable on the couch and read through some gardening books I'd picked up at the library the day before.
There is nothing so hopeful and restorative as looking through gardening books in the dead of winter. And y'all, I made another list.
Two lists, actually.
Of the green thumb things I wanted to try this year. Vegetables and herbs I wanted to grow, namely. And somewhere on that list is also 'find a potted lemon tree.' Because, for some reason, I have my little heart set on having a lemon tree.
When Brian came home, I was in a better frame of mind (though, I must admit, not for long enough to get us through the evening without incident).
Do you ever have days that make you feel like pulling out your hair, tossing everything out the window, and hiding? What do you do to calm yourself down? How do you get past the overwhelm?
1.08.2010
coffee, etc.
I have never liked coffee. I have never liked mocha, or coffee-flavored ice cream, or tiramisu. I have always, however, liked coffee shops, and hot teas, and the coffee drinkers these shops serve (Starbucks not included - I get headaches in there for some reason).
On this date two months ago, we packed up our car and our dog (we only had one dog back then) and began our cross-country journey from Richmond, VA, to Denver, CO. Brian had just finished seminary and was about to start work at a church out here. I was facing a new first for me - being a housewife. We got married while he was in school, and I worked to support us. The plan for when we got out here was for me to get everything unpacked and then start bringing in some web-based income from home quickly, as a freelance proofreader and editor (and YES, I am for hire NOW! and YES, I DO edit theses/manuscripts/articles/resumes/blog posts!). Quickly hasn't happened as quickly as I had hoped (see posts tagged Rory) but it is coming, and I imagine that once work starts rolling in, I might spend some time in coffee shops. Especially when the weather gets nice, and I can sit outside with the dogs.
I haven't found my coffee shop here in Denver yet, but that's ok. Moving was expensive, and Christmas was expensive, and Eli had to have four digits worth of dental surgery, and all three of those things happened within about 6 weeks of each other, and I am still working on amassing a winter wardrobe (it is 0 degrees outside according to my thermometer) and we just plum don't have play money right now.
I've got plenty to keep me busy, though. Designing a website, for one. Setting up our home, for another. And then there are the dogs, who need feeding, and grooming, and training (lots of training) and walks and potty breaks outside (where it is 0 degrees) every 10 minutes or so, and cuddles and pets and ice cubes.
Busy hasn't proven to be quite the wonderful thing for me, though. I am lucky if I talk to a non-family member more than once a day (I'm counting librarians and grocery checkout people in that number) and, while I am fairly introverted, I am also very lonely right now. I send lengthy responses to 'hey what's up' emails; I linger on the phone a little too long; and the mail man (whose name is Jim) might be the closest friend I've made out here so far. Don't get me wrong - I have made some wonderful friends at church and I know those relationships will grow, but we rocketed right into the holidays when we got here, and everyone was busy doing holiday things. There was lots of good cheer to go around, but a shortage of the 'let's get together this week' kind of thing. So I have found myself doing a little bit of that one thing I thought I would never do, or need to do: finding community online.
One of my very very favorite blogs is called Home Sanctuary. I can't say enough good things about it, and I imagine that a large portion of folks who are reading these words came here because of Rachel Anne and Home Sanctuary. I've only recently begun commenting and reading the blogs of other visitors to Home Sanctuary, but I am so encouraged by linking with other women like me. And, I feel a little less lonely.
WELCOME! to any visiting Company Girls. And to my friends who are reading - please leave a comment and let me know you were here. I could use a little wave, some friendly words, and maybe your best joke on hand :)
In the meantime - I have some new girlfriends to call and some little get-togethers to try to set up. I hope you have a great day today and a good weekend ahead. Happy Friday!!
On this date two months ago, we packed up our car and our dog (we only had one dog back then) and began our cross-country journey from Richmond, VA, to Denver, CO. Brian had just finished seminary and was about to start work at a church out here. I was facing a new first for me - being a housewife. We got married while he was in school, and I worked to support us. The plan for when we got out here was for me to get everything unpacked and then start bringing in some web-based income from home quickly, as a freelance proofreader and editor (and YES, I am for hire NOW! and YES, I DO edit theses/manuscripts/articles/resumes/blog posts!). Quickly hasn't happened as quickly as I had hoped (see posts tagged Rory) but it is coming, and I imagine that once work starts rolling in, I might spend some time in coffee shops. Especially when the weather gets nice, and I can sit outside with the dogs.
I haven't found my coffee shop here in Denver yet, but that's ok. Moving was expensive, and Christmas was expensive, and Eli had to have four digits worth of dental surgery, and all three of those things happened within about 6 weeks of each other, and I am still working on amassing a winter wardrobe (it is 0 degrees outside according to my thermometer) and we just plum don't have play money right now.
I've got plenty to keep me busy, though. Designing a website, for one. Setting up our home, for another. And then there are the dogs, who need feeding, and grooming, and training (lots of training) and walks and potty breaks outside (where it is 0 degrees) every 10 minutes or so, and cuddles and pets and ice cubes.
Busy hasn't proven to be quite the wonderful thing for me, though. I am lucky if I talk to a non-family member more than once a day (I'm counting librarians and grocery checkout people in that number) and, while I am fairly introverted, I am also very lonely right now. I send lengthy responses to 'hey what's up' emails; I linger on the phone a little too long; and the mail man (whose name is Jim) might be the closest friend I've made out here so far. Don't get me wrong - I have made some wonderful friends at church and I know those relationships will grow, but we rocketed right into the holidays when we got here, and everyone was busy doing holiday things. There was lots of good cheer to go around, but a shortage of the 'let's get together this week' kind of thing. So I have found myself doing a little bit of that one thing I thought I would never do, or need to do: finding community online.
One of my very very favorite blogs is called Home Sanctuary. I can't say enough good things about it, and I imagine that a large portion of folks who are reading these words came here because of Rachel Anne and Home Sanctuary. I've only recently begun commenting and reading the blogs of other visitors to Home Sanctuary, but I am so encouraged by linking with other women like me. And, I feel a little less lonely.
WELCOME! to any visiting Company Girls. And to my friends who are reading - please leave a comment and let me know you were here. I could use a little wave, some friendly words, and maybe your best joke on hand :)
In the meantime - I have some new girlfriends to call and some little get-togethers to try to set up. I hope you have a great day today and a good weekend ahead. Happy Friday!!
1.04.2010
New Year, So What
I generally stick to a MWF post schedule - generally - but I haven't posted in almost a week. Each time I've sat here, determined to write something to share with y'all, I get nothing. And it's my fault.
You see, everybody else out there is posting their resolutions goals for the new year (and calling them goals, eschewing the outmoded notion of 'new year's resolutions' for some strange reason). And while that's all well and good for them, I'm not there yet. I don't really know what my concrete goals are. Which makes me feel like I have nothing to say, this first week of January.
But I do know what I want, in a vague and unattainable but easily shaped and mapped out way. And it's not confined to a calendar year. The start date isn't January 1 and the cutoff isn't December 31. I'm talking an overhaul on my (our) modus operandi. I want less so that I can have more. This is something I worked toward last year as we prepared to move, and have continued to do as I unpack all of our belongings and decide what stays and what goes.
What does that mean? Here are some of my thoughts.
I want less stuff, to have more space to live. Lower spending to have higher savings and maybe a house toward the end of the year. Less time wasted (hello, Google Reader) to give way to more time spent on things that matter (like reading, and drumming up some freelance work, and knitting, and walking the dogs an hour or so each day). Less time being 'busy' at home, where I am alone and isolated, and more time being OUT, doing things, seeing people, making friends.
Less pee in the carpet, so the smell is less bad, so that I can invite [more] people over. Rory, I'm looking at you.
I think my overall approach to this new year - this new life in Colorado, really - is to simply. Take a look around, boil everything down to the essentials, and free up the time, the space, the resources and the brain power, to do the things that really matter to us. We have so much stuff, so much going on, so many to-dos. How much of it actually matters? And what is it preventing us from having, or doing, or spending time on?
People. Eli and Rory. Giving. Becoming more self-reliant. Getting outdoors. Traveling around this new state of ours. For me, having high-quality yarn is big. As is learning how to grow things. And spending a lot of quiet time, learning who I am and letting Ashley come through, rather than studying up on how I 'should' be or look or do or decorate. (Brian might add sub-zero sleeping bags and trips to the lake and these things called Yak Tracks.)
I really want to get rid of the white noise in our lives, so to speak. Make more room for people, not stuff, as my sister-in-law aptly put it. That's what I want this year.
What about you?
You see, everybody else out there is posting their resolutions goals for the new year (and calling them goals, eschewing the outmoded notion of 'new year's resolutions' for some strange reason). And while that's all well and good for them, I'm not there yet. I don't really know what my concrete goals are. Which makes me feel like I have nothing to say, this first week of January.
But I do know what I want, in a vague and unattainable but easily shaped and mapped out way. And it's not confined to a calendar year. The start date isn't January 1 and the cutoff isn't December 31. I'm talking an overhaul on my (our) modus operandi. I want less so that I can have more. This is something I worked toward last year as we prepared to move, and have continued to do as I unpack all of our belongings and decide what stays and what goes.
What does that mean? Here are some of my thoughts.
I want less stuff, to have more space to live. Lower spending to have higher savings and maybe a house toward the end of the year. Less time wasted (hello, Google Reader) to give way to more time spent on things that matter (like reading, and drumming up some freelance work, and knitting, and walking the dogs an hour or so each day). Less time being 'busy' at home, where I am alone and isolated, and more time being OUT, doing things, seeing people, making friends.
Less pee in the carpet, so the smell is less bad, so that I can invite [more] people over. Rory, I'm looking at you.
I think my overall approach to this new year - this new life in Colorado, really - is to simply. Take a look around, boil everything down to the essentials, and free up the time, the space, the resources and the brain power, to do the things that really matter to us. We have so much stuff, so much going on, so many to-dos. How much of it actually matters? And what is it preventing us from having, or doing, or spending time on?
People. Eli and Rory. Giving. Becoming more self-reliant. Getting outdoors. Traveling around this new state of ours. For me, having high-quality yarn is big. As is learning how to grow things. And spending a lot of quiet time, learning who I am and letting Ashley come through, rather than studying up on how I 'should' be or look or do or decorate. (Brian might add sub-zero sleeping bags and trips to the lake and these things called Yak Tracks.)
I really want to get rid of the white noise in our lives, so to speak. Make more room for people, not stuff, as my sister-in-law aptly put it. That's what I want this year.
What about you?
11.24.2009
emergency knitting
Knitterly fans of Gilmore Girls might remember the episode of the knit-a-thon to save the bridge in Stars Hollow. Lorelei wore a (totally rad) Knit Or Die shirt. I recently had a Knit Or Die moment, myself.
It'd been weeks - WEEKS - since I'd been able to do any real crafting, any knitting or sewing whatsoever. And after spending a week-plus with nothing but boxes and an ornery papillon to keep me company, I had a moment of desperation. I needed to knit, and I needed to knit right then.
So did I turn to the pillows I've been working on since June, for a friend? Even though they are entirely done and only need a pillow form and some seaming? No. Did I turn to the two pairs of socks for a different friend, a bartering agreement in which she bought me two football tickets in exchange for two pairs of socks? No.
I needed something easy, and I needed something mindless. It was time for a dish rag. Here's an early progress shot:
This is my first time using a grand old dishrag pattern. It's called Grandmother's Favorite (Ravelry Link) and I'm pretty sure it's been a dishrag standard for eons. The yarn is a Japanese yarn that our cousins, currently stationed in Okinawa, sent me many moons ago - as best I can tell from the label, it's acrylic and has antibacterial properties. I call the colorway 'fabulously orange.' I came across it today while unpacking, and I decided that it was time.
I consider knitting a part of my homemaking. If I'm not knitting something for sale, I am knitting something to be used or to be given as a gift. I used to feel guilty when ignoring the giant to-do list in lieu of some knitting, but not anymore. I like to think of it as growth.
What do you do when you need a break from the world for a little while?
.
It'd been weeks - WEEKS - since I'd been able to do any real crafting, any knitting or sewing whatsoever. And after spending a week-plus with nothing but boxes and an ornery papillon to keep me company, I had a moment of desperation. I needed to knit, and I needed to knit right then.
So did I turn to the pillows I've been working on since June, for a friend? Even though they are entirely done and only need a pillow form and some seaming? No. Did I turn to the two pairs of socks for a different friend, a bartering agreement in which she bought me two football tickets in exchange for two pairs of socks? No.
I needed something easy, and I needed something mindless. It was time for a dish rag. Here's an early progress shot:
This is my first time using a grand old dishrag pattern. It's called Grandmother's Favorite (Ravelry Link) and I'm pretty sure it's been a dishrag standard for eons. The yarn is a Japanese yarn that our cousins, currently stationed in Okinawa, sent me many moons ago - as best I can tell from the label, it's acrylic and has antibacterial properties. I call the colorway 'fabulously orange.' I came across it today while unpacking, and I decided that it was time.
I consider knitting a part of my homemaking. If I'm not knitting something for sale, I am knitting something to be used or to be given as a gift. I used to feel guilty when ignoring the giant to-do list in lieu of some knitting, but not anymore. I like to think of it as growth.
What do you do when you need a break from the world for a little while?
.
5.12.2009
overeating
I did it again. I was sitting there, lounging on the couch with a trashy makeover show blaring on the tv, perfectly content after a delightful meal of my favorite cheap delivery pizza. Brian was at the library doing some school work. It was just me, the leftover pizza, and Dr. Rey.
I kept noticing the box. But why? I wasn't hungry. In fact, I was fully sated and pretty content not to move. But I grabbed another one anyway.
Why did I do it? I didn't really want it. I certainly didn't need it. I knew that if I ate it, I wouldn't have any left for lunch after Brian had his share. And yet, up went the lid and in went my hand. Down the hatch.
I regretted it immediately - before even finishing it. The gross feeling, not to mention the lethargy. I will probably regret it all day tomorrow, too.
I know I'm not the only one who deals with overeating. Why is this such a big problem for so many folks? I know I eat when I'm stressed out - and I can't eat when I'm extremely stressed out. But the question bothers me. Why.
I don't like not knowing what's going on in my own head. Is it distraction? Is it hopelessness (I'll never drop these 25lbs, why bother try)? Is there some sort of weird self-sabotage at work? Am I trying to hide from something - being happy, maybe? I'm sure that's the answer any life coach or wannabe would give. Is there any truth to the cliche?
Why do YOU overeat?
5.04.2009
on work
I got really choked up last night when I realized that it was Sunday evening, and I wasn't a tense, anxious, very unhappy person on account of another work week looming less than 12 hours away.
I used to be one of the many miserable people who hated their jobs. I would go to work every day and be so frustrated, uninspired, tense, worried, guilty, and ... miserable. I was a square peg trying to fit in a round hole...the round hole was a great job with a lot of value to the community and to the organization. But it wasn't right for me at all.
My health was shot. I couldn't sleep at night, I'd be sick for months with illnesses that usually wouldn't last more than a week, a lot of my food allergies and digestive problems were resurfacing, I was in so much pain I couldn't stand up straight and my feet always hurt. I was exhausted and my physical world was starting to cave in. I'd already lost my mental and emotional stability, on account of all the anxiety and self-flagellation. And when every argument with my husband rapidly descended into 'you are NEVER happy, there is nothing I could possibly do to make you happy' and I recognized the TRUTH in that statement, I knew it was time for a change. Bad economy or not, I reached the point where being unemployed would have been better for me than staying where I was. I was in a tight spot, y'all.
So when a seasonal job opened up for me - one that I'd had and LOVED before - I jumped. Knowing it would only be 6-8 weeks, I jumped anyway. I was making much more income with relatively stable hours, so we were able to sock away another 2 weeks of living expenses during the time I was there. And within 2 weeks of that job ending, I was temping in another job that would end up hiring me permanently a couple of weeks later.
Here I am - happy, healthy(er), much more stable at home, and I'm even reading regularly - a sure sign that I am doing much better. I am able to enjoy my weekends 100% and not deal with the angst of Monday mornings approaching. My home is slowly coming back together, I'm exercising and getting all of the permanent knots worked out of my back, I even MOPPED last night. Brian and I argue so much less, the things that seemed like a big deal when every last nerve of mine was frayed aren't so important, and he's more inclined to compromise now. I feel like we're a team again.
I feel like I have my life back.
I am so fortunate to have been able to make this change, especially with the job market the way it is here in Richmond. Not everyone could be so fortunate.
If you're mired in misery the way I was, I encourage you to do whatever it takes to get out. Don't convince yourself that it will get better. Don't throw those days and weeks and months of your life away! The fear you feel, starring down the face of unemployment, could be worth facing. You don't know what's going to happen. When you get a chance to get out, take it.
You might want to cancel your cable first, though. Just in case.
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