This weekend the teaching at church revolved around Haggai 1, which concerns the rebuilding of the Second Temple after the return of the Jews to Jerusalem. God chastens His people for not working on his kingdom first:
"This people says "The time has not come, the time that the Lord's house should be built." Then the word of the Lord came by Haggai the prophet, saying "Is it time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses and this temple to lie in ruins. Now therefore, thus says the LORD of hosts: "Consider your ways!" (Haggai 1:2-4).
Consider your ways. The Lord then reminds the people of all that they have tried to do to prosper yet have failed at because they did not put the Lord first. They did not build His kingdom.
Am I building God's kingdom? This is the question I find myself confronted with in the middle of my life. I am busier than I have ever been - so busy, in fact, that I am drowning in both my personal and professional life. But am I busy building my own kingdom or God's?
It is not meant as an idle question. I feel like I am doing more than ever yet I am accomplishing less than ever and yet I am not seeing the rewards (not all monetary) that one would expect. Effort is not translating into progress. I almost feel trapped in a wheel I cannot remove myself from.
What is the Lord's prescription for His people of Haggai's time? "'Go up to the mountains and bring wood and build my temple, that I may take pleasure in it and be glorified', says the LORD (Haggai 1:8)". Stop what you are doing. Stop building your little empires and your small dreams and put me first in what I ask, He says. Glorify Me, make Me the center of your life, and see how I will act.
That is a hard prescription to follow, at least for me, trapped in the busyness of a life that seems only to move faster and faster. But, to follow the phrase, if you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten.
Whose kingdom am I building anyway?
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
More Time
Balance is key.
I found myself torn this weekend by the multiplicity of things that I wanted - and had to do: Highland Athletics, iaijutsu practice, cleaning the rabbits, writing more for Nanowrimo, running, and even just mowing the lawn. Add to this the other activities I do infrequently - making cheese, making mead, gardening - and those which I wish I did more of - language, even more writing, getting back on the harp, more canning, maybe even bees again - and suddenly I felt overwhelmed. Like I was not going to accomplish anything at all.
This is always a problem for me. My reach is always outstretching my grasp. There is so much more that I want to do than I seem to have the time for that I simply become frustrated. And feel like I cannot do anything at all.
This is ludicrous, of course. In my saner moments I realize that the expectations here are the ones that I am putting on myself. No-one judges my success or my failure in any of these things except myself. I am the only one that feels the disappointment.
In the back of my mind I try to find the linkage between where I am and where I want to be. My hope is always that I can find a way more towards something of this nature - because in these things I find my heart. In these things I find a passion and zest for living.
I will keep trying, of course - the only thing completely failed is the thing which is never tried. And my throws may not be quite as high, my cuts not as straight, my cheese not as round (and my lawn, of course, not as mowed) - but that is okay. Each of these things makes me a better person, makes me more alive.
Even if I do not have all the time in the world to do them.
I found myself torn this weekend by the multiplicity of things that I wanted - and had to do: Highland Athletics, iaijutsu practice, cleaning the rabbits, writing more for Nanowrimo, running, and even just mowing the lawn. Add to this the other activities I do infrequently - making cheese, making mead, gardening - and those which I wish I did more of - language, even more writing, getting back on the harp, more canning, maybe even bees again - and suddenly I felt overwhelmed. Like I was not going to accomplish anything at all.
This is always a problem for me. My reach is always outstretching my grasp. There is so much more that I want to do than I seem to have the time for that I simply become frustrated. And feel like I cannot do anything at all.
This is ludicrous, of course. In my saner moments I realize that the expectations here are the ones that I am putting on myself. No-one judges my success or my failure in any of these things except myself. I am the only one that feels the disappointment.
In the back of my mind I try to find the linkage between where I am and where I want to be. My hope is always that I can find a way more towards something of this nature - because in these things I find my heart. In these things I find a passion and zest for living.
I will keep trying, of course - the only thing completely failed is the thing which is never tried. And my throws may not be quite as high, my cuts not as straight, my cheese not as round (and my lawn, of course, not as mowed) - but that is okay. Each of these things makes me a better person, makes me more alive.
Even if I do not have all the time in the world to do them.
Friday, November 08, 2013
Thursday, November 07, 2013
The Making of Art
So on Monday my friend Carla came over to sketch me. She needed a model and I am pretty good at just sitting there so it seemed like a fine idea.
The making of art, especially visual art, has always fascinated me. This is not a medium I work well in at all (mine is words and the raw materials of fermented foods) so it always interesting to me how it was done. To me it seems the equivalent of magic: the artist looks, works on the paper, and produces a work of art.
Having never sat for a drawing I was interested in what would be requested of me. It turns out nothing much at all: sit there and look out. Try not to move to much. Wait - can you turn the other way towards the light? Good. Just sit there.
And we were off.
The fascinating part to me was that she talked throughout the process. This is very different than writing for me: the more quiet things are, the better I write. Not so with Carla. She simply put her pad down, got out her charcoal, and got to work.
Broad strokes, broad strokes, short strokes, rub rub rub. Look, start sketching something else out. Rub the charcoal more - when she brushes her forehead a random stroke of charcoal stays there as well, matching her hair. Her right index finger becomes dark with dust as she continues to draw. Short stroke, short stroke, broad stroke. She looks again - Are your eyes really that crooked? Yes, I assure her, they really are - bee sting and bokuto scar. She nods and keeps drawing, a running stream of banter going between the two of us as the strokes seem to go as fast as the words. Look up, look down, draw. It is interesting that there are not a great deal of facial expressions as she draws to indicate if she is happy with the work as it is or not. Is this conscious, to prevent her prejudging the work or is she simply in the moment? I wonder as she continues to move back and forth across the paper.
Near the end she starts to draw larger strokes to fill in the background. Finally she looks at it, looks at me, and shows it. I love it of course - it has the bold facial features of a Vulcan or Romulan, something which I have always fancied myself looking like.
All of this with the just a blank piece of paper and charcoal.
How do artists do this? How do they see what we see but then transfer it to a medium that makes it look like it is? How can they draw the essence of a thing outside of themselves and then put it onto paper with the essence of the thing in it?
I cannot understand it. All I can do is simply stand back and be amazed.
The making of art, especially visual art, has always fascinated me. This is not a medium I work well in at all (mine is words and the raw materials of fermented foods) so it always interesting to me how it was done. To me it seems the equivalent of magic: the artist looks, works on the paper, and produces a work of art.
Having never sat for a drawing I was interested in what would be requested of me. It turns out nothing much at all: sit there and look out. Try not to move to much. Wait - can you turn the other way towards the light? Good. Just sit there.
And we were off.
The fascinating part to me was that she talked throughout the process. This is very different than writing for me: the more quiet things are, the better I write. Not so with Carla. She simply put her pad down, got out her charcoal, and got to work.
Broad strokes, broad strokes, short strokes, rub rub rub. Look, start sketching something else out. Rub the charcoal more - when she brushes her forehead a random stroke of charcoal stays there as well, matching her hair. Her right index finger becomes dark with dust as she continues to draw. Short stroke, short stroke, broad stroke. She looks again - Are your eyes really that crooked? Yes, I assure her, they really are - bee sting and bokuto scar. She nods and keeps drawing, a running stream of banter going between the two of us as the strokes seem to go as fast as the words. Look up, look down, draw. It is interesting that there are not a great deal of facial expressions as she draws to indicate if she is happy with the work as it is or not. Is this conscious, to prevent her prejudging the work or is she simply in the moment? I wonder as she continues to move back and forth across the paper.
Near the end she starts to draw larger strokes to fill in the background. Finally she looks at it, looks at me, and shows it. I love it of course - it has the bold facial features of a Vulcan or Romulan, something which I have always fancied myself looking like.
All of this with the just a blank piece of paper and charcoal.
How do artists do this? How do they see what we see but then transfer it to a medium that makes it look like it is? How can they draw the essence of a thing outside of themselves and then put it onto paper with the essence of the thing in it?
I cannot understand it. All I can do is simply stand back and be amazed.
Wednesday, November 06, 2013
Expiration Dates
How do you know when you have reached your expiration date? How do you know when you have stayed too long at a thing?
I am tempted to say that everything has a shelf life - but in fact I know that there are some things for which such things merely mean we need to reach deeper within ourselves to grow. But those things are really the few and far between, the essentials, the things of relationships and personal goals that make life worth living.
What of the rest, the things that do not fall into this category? Is there an expiration date and when do you know? It is not as if people smell and spoil when they go bad in their positions or suddenly appear to be covered with mold.
I ask this question not out of theory but out of fact. I am increasingly confronted by the fact that I may have stayed too long at a thing, may have become one of these people that simply starts enduring something - and by enduring, is willing to live with the status quo rather than change it, because either I believe the thing cannot be changed or have given up hoping that it will be.
This is a dangerous thing - not necessarily only for myself and my life but for everyone around me. People who settle become people who fail to try new things, who come to not even maintain the things that are in place, that ultimately become bitter and tired individuals who snap at anyone who suggests that they are really doing what they are supposed to do.
And in a sense they are not. They are there to fulfill a purpose or role, not simply become a space server who is there to maintain a title or a place on the board or an appendix of a skill or interest. The day that becomes true is the day that they become superfluous to the reason that they are there.
It is easy to see this in others. It is much more difficult to see it in ourselves.
I am tempted to say that everything has a shelf life - but in fact I know that there are some things for which such things merely mean we need to reach deeper within ourselves to grow. But those things are really the few and far between, the essentials, the things of relationships and personal goals that make life worth living.
What of the rest, the things that do not fall into this category? Is there an expiration date and when do you know? It is not as if people smell and spoil when they go bad in their positions or suddenly appear to be covered with mold.
I ask this question not out of theory but out of fact. I am increasingly confronted by the fact that I may have stayed too long at a thing, may have become one of these people that simply starts enduring something - and by enduring, is willing to live with the status quo rather than change it, because either I believe the thing cannot be changed or have given up hoping that it will be.
This is a dangerous thing - not necessarily only for myself and my life but for everyone around me. People who settle become people who fail to try new things, who come to not even maintain the things that are in place, that ultimately become bitter and tired individuals who snap at anyone who suggests that they are really doing what they are supposed to do.
And in a sense they are not. They are there to fulfill a purpose or role, not simply become a space server who is there to maintain a title or a place on the board or an appendix of a skill or interest. The day that becomes true is the day that they become superfluous to the reason that they are there.
It is easy to see this in others. It is much more difficult to see it in ourselves.
Tuesday, November 05, 2013
Monday, November 04, 2013
Nanowrimo 2013
So I might not have mentioned it yet but I am doing Nanowrimo 2013:
You may remember the challenge from last year: 50,000 words, 30 days. The idea is to get a manuscript written in 30 days. Not a final manuscript necessarily you understand - this is as rough as it gets. The point is to get one writing every day.
My plan was messed up, of course. I had not decided what I was going to write until the last second - good heavens, I had not decided I was going to do it at all until the day before. I was waffling because I did not think that I had the time. It is ridiculous of course - you always have time to do the things you really want to do.
The second impediment was that I thought I was not ready to write what I was going to write. I had it all planned out in my mind: what I was going to write about, the research I needed to do, the plot. But I ran out of time: the book sat unread and the day was approaching. I had a second idea, more of an undeveloped thought than a real thing, that was laying in wait. I grabbed it and ran.
I am about 7300 words in now - like last time, the concept seems to have taken on a life of its own and the characters have started talking amongst themselves without needing much prodding from me. A good way to write, that - as a recorder, not a generator.
Will I finish? I will. I have no idea what it will look like -and having done this last year, I am far more willing to do major editing now that I know that writing all those words is not the same as having a good book (it is okay, I discovered, to cut things out).
But the exercise is good. And I feel better after it. That will make four books I have written in three years.
A bit of a surprise there - somewhere I turned into an author and hardly knew it.
You may remember the challenge from last year: 50,000 words, 30 days. The idea is to get a manuscript written in 30 days. Not a final manuscript necessarily you understand - this is as rough as it gets. The point is to get one writing every day.
My plan was messed up, of course. I had not decided what I was going to write until the last second - good heavens, I had not decided I was going to do it at all until the day before. I was waffling because I did not think that I had the time. It is ridiculous of course - you always have time to do the things you really want to do.
The second impediment was that I thought I was not ready to write what I was going to write. I had it all planned out in my mind: what I was going to write about, the research I needed to do, the plot. But I ran out of time: the book sat unread and the day was approaching. I had a second idea, more of an undeveloped thought than a real thing, that was laying in wait. I grabbed it and ran.
I am about 7300 words in now - like last time, the concept seems to have taken on a life of its own and the characters have started talking amongst themselves without needing much prodding from me. A good way to write, that - as a recorder, not a generator.
Will I finish? I will. I have no idea what it will look like -and having done this last year, I am far more willing to do major editing now that I know that writing all those words is not the same as having a good book (it is okay, I discovered, to cut things out).
But the exercise is good. And I feel better after it. That will make four books I have written in three years.
A bit of a surprise there - somewhere I turned into an author and hardly knew it.
Sunday, November 03, 2013
Terminal Velocity
This is blog of Rocky Smith. He is dying of cancer. And blogging it.
I can only say that I know Rocky tangentially and from a distance. We both were/are involved in the same sport of Highland Athletics (I suspect he was far better than I can ever hope to be). We both the know some of the same people. And I stand humbled in his presence.
I have one definitive memory of him, one that I doubt he remembers as anything other than one athlete helping another. It was at the Arlington Highland Games, where I was making my usual attempts at throwing the caber. I cannot always pick and pull it but I am too stubborn to let go when I should.
He called me aside and advised me that I should just let it go when it falls - he had seen men break their shoulders trying to catch a falling caber. I thanked him for the advice, failed my last two picks, and carried on not giving it a second thought.
Until two weeks ago when someone posted that Rocky Smith was coming to the October Games - probably his last long road trip.
Killing time waiting for a pick up, I went to his blog and read. And was shocked. And humbled. Suddenly I knew who this man with the garbled speech was who shared advice with me. He probably knew he was not doing well in May - and yet he took the time to correct me, time out of a life that literally is measured in days.
I thought of Rocky and his advice when I threw two weeks ago. The caber did not go up, out I stepped away. As the judge said, "No broken shoulders, no broken caber. All is well". And I believe I shall think of him now every time that I throw the caber for as long as I throw the caber - the kindness of a man who gave the thing most precious to him, a gift of time.
I read his blog every day now. I will warn you up front: It is hard. It is honest. It is the last testament of a man who taking a very hard thing in his life, the hardest thing of any of our lives - dying - and turning it into a teachable moment. He might argue it is for himself, but I would argue that it really is for everyone else.
Rocky has entered the last great throw of his life - and in an infinite act of kindness he is letting us peak into what the pick and pull look like.
Throw hard Rocky. Throw far.
I can only say that I know Rocky tangentially and from a distance. We both were/are involved in the same sport of Highland Athletics (I suspect he was far better than I can ever hope to be). We both the know some of the same people. And I stand humbled in his presence.
I have one definitive memory of him, one that I doubt he remembers as anything other than one athlete helping another. It was at the Arlington Highland Games, where I was making my usual attempts at throwing the caber. I cannot always pick and pull it but I am too stubborn to let go when I should.
He called me aside and advised me that I should just let it go when it falls - he had seen men break their shoulders trying to catch a falling caber. I thanked him for the advice, failed my last two picks, and carried on not giving it a second thought.
Until two weeks ago when someone posted that Rocky Smith was coming to the October Games - probably his last long road trip.
Killing time waiting for a pick up, I went to his blog and read. And was shocked. And humbled. Suddenly I knew who this man with the garbled speech was who shared advice with me. He probably knew he was not doing well in May - and yet he took the time to correct me, time out of a life that literally is measured in days.
I thought of Rocky and his advice when I threw two weeks ago. The caber did not go up, out I stepped away. As the judge said, "No broken shoulders, no broken caber. All is well". And I believe I shall think of him now every time that I throw the caber for as long as I throw the caber - the kindness of a man who gave the thing most precious to him, a gift of time.
I read his blog every day now. I will warn you up front: It is hard. It is honest. It is the last testament of a man who taking a very hard thing in his life, the hardest thing of any of our lives - dying - and turning it into a teachable moment. He might argue it is for himself, but I would argue that it really is for everyone else.
Rocky has entered the last great throw of his life - and in an infinite act of kindness he is letting us peak into what the pick and pull look like.
Throw hard Rocky. Throw far.
Friday, November 01, 2013
Computer Frustration
I am having a computer morning.
We have two computers I write on: one, an approximately 2008 HP; the other, a refurbished laptop that I have had for about two years now. They are both in the process of frustrating me to no end at the moment.
The laptop becomes randomly slow at times - like this morning, even though I left it on sleep mode last night. I "woke" it up this morning, and Windows decided that it was time to try and update the system. Ability to write: almost zero. I ended the function and tried again but apparently the system had become unstable at this point. Computers 1, TB 0.
Off to the stand alone computer. Start it up (this seems to go pretty fast). Try to start up the Internet without being patient. Hey look, the Internet is now slow. Open three tabs at one time and if one of them is Facebook, everything stops working for a few minutes until it manages to find its purpose again.
All the time, irretrievable time is fleeing.
It bothers me, of course, because writing is now a part of morning routine, of my life. I do not like feeling frustrated with the amount of time that I have available to write. It impacts how I write and how deep I feel I can go. And without depth, my writing becomes shallow and not what it could be.
Do I have a solution? Not really, outside of a new computer. Try starting the computer when I get up I suppose and give it plenty of time to get its arms around being up in the more. And learn a little more patience as well.
Electronics. The bane and blessing of the modern writer's life.
We have two computers I write on: one, an approximately 2008 HP; the other, a refurbished laptop that I have had for about two years now. They are both in the process of frustrating me to no end at the moment.
The laptop becomes randomly slow at times - like this morning, even though I left it on sleep mode last night. I "woke" it up this morning, and Windows decided that it was time to try and update the system. Ability to write: almost zero. I ended the function and tried again but apparently the system had become unstable at this point. Computers 1, TB 0.
Off to the stand alone computer. Start it up (this seems to go pretty fast). Try to start up the Internet without being patient. Hey look, the Internet is now slow. Open three tabs at one time and if one of them is Facebook, everything stops working for a few minutes until it manages to find its purpose again.
All the time, irretrievable time is fleeing.
It bothers me, of course, because writing is now a part of morning routine, of my life. I do not like feeling frustrated with the amount of time that I have available to write. It impacts how I write and how deep I feel I can go. And without depth, my writing becomes shallow and not what it could be.
Do I have a solution? Not really, outside of a new computer. Try starting the computer when I get up I suppose and give it plenty of time to get its arms around being up in the more. And learn a little more patience as well.
Electronics. The bane and blessing of the modern writer's life.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Bifurcation
Something is annoyingly under the surface of my life.
There seems to be a bifurcation developing, creating two different parts of my life. In one I am relatively happy, making decisions, planning, moving forward on things. In the other I am plodding along, seemingly trapped in old paradigms and old ways, becoming increasingly unhappy.
Where is this bifurcation coming from? It seems deeply connected to my ongoing endeavors in parts of my life which I can specifically control.
Example: My participation in Highland Athletics has been one of the great things to happen in the last 5 years of my life - not only because of the fact that I am in better shape, but that it is something that I have improved in and am continuing to improve in. And all of this - participation, strength, improvement - lies completely within my control.
A lovely side effect of activities such as this is that I have connected with others that are interested in the same effort and improvement. Everyone in Highland Athletics is seeking to do a little better, improve their score a little bit. You cannot imagine what it is like to be around such a group.
And again, all of this is under my control.
I compare this with other areas of my life, such as my current career, where so much is not under my control and so much is more just getting through the day rather than really seeking to improve and get better. There is no energy, no excitement, merely the continuing sense of a duty that needs to be accomplished.
(Why is it this desire for improvement is not everywhere? Worthy of another blog post, I suspect).
Where do this two trails end up? I am not really sure. I suspect that two such very different experiences cannot continue to exist within the same frame of reference for a long period of time without one taking the other over. I even suspect I know which one - because energy and drive and direction will always overpower the sense vague sense of merely needing to carry on.
There seems to be a bifurcation developing, creating two different parts of my life. In one I am relatively happy, making decisions, planning, moving forward on things. In the other I am plodding along, seemingly trapped in old paradigms and old ways, becoming increasingly unhappy.
Where is this bifurcation coming from? It seems deeply connected to my ongoing endeavors in parts of my life which I can specifically control.
Example: My participation in Highland Athletics has been one of the great things to happen in the last 5 years of my life - not only because of the fact that I am in better shape, but that it is something that I have improved in and am continuing to improve in. And all of this - participation, strength, improvement - lies completely within my control.
A lovely side effect of activities such as this is that I have connected with others that are interested in the same effort and improvement. Everyone in Highland Athletics is seeking to do a little better, improve their score a little bit. You cannot imagine what it is like to be around such a group.
And again, all of this is under my control.
I compare this with other areas of my life, such as my current career, where so much is not under my control and so much is more just getting through the day rather than really seeking to improve and get better. There is no energy, no excitement, merely the continuing sense of a duty that needs to be accomplished.
(Why is it this desire for improvement is not everywhere? Worthy of another blog post, I suspect).
Where do this two trails end up? I am not really sure. I suspect that two such very different experiences cannot continue to exist within the same frame of reference for a long period of time without one taking the other over. I even suspect I know which one - because energy and drive and direction will always overpower the sense vague sense of merely needing to carry on.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Treadmills
I was speaking on the phone with Snowflake last night and we were discussing - okay, perhaps grumbling - about the various loads of what we have going on in our lives, how our work feels overwhelming and not productive and everything else in our lives seems to be coming down the pike all at once. "It is like we're on a treadmill and we can't get off" she noted.
We laughed, both acknowledging the truth of her statement. At the same time, there was a certain sad truth to situation.
Which got me to thinking: if it is a treadmill, can't we get off?
The thing about a treadmill is that it is not something we are chained to, as if we were propelling an slave galley. We put ourselves on there. We continue to plod along mile after mile, maybe elevating the track or creating greater speed. Ultimately, of course, we go nowhere - but we are the ones who continue to keep ourselves on it.
Can one even change treadmills? This is a question fraught with even larger implications. Changing a life is not nearly as clean as changing a treadmill of course: there are a great many more implications than simply powering down and moving over. But implications are not the same as impossibilities.
To start, as I think about it, is to simply check if one is on a treadmill. Is my life essentially standing still? Have I stopped moving forward in important aspects of my life, and am now simply creating ruts? Have I become so enmeshed by everything that I have lost the ability to independently choose and act if I needed to make a change?
If that is the case - and it seems like my own - then there are really only two choices. One is to continue to pound away the miles, going nowhere.
The second is to power down, hop off, and walk through the door into the open sunshine.
We laughed, both acknowledging the truth of her statement. At the same time, there was a certain sad truth to situation.
Which got me to thinking: if it is a treadmill, can't we get off?
The thing about a treadmill is that it is not something we are chained to, as if we were propelling an slave galley. We put ourselves on there. We continue to plod along mile after mile, maybe elevating the track or creating greater speed. Ultimately, of course, we go nowhere - but we are the ones who continue to keep ourselves on it.
Can one even change treadmills? This is a question fraught with even larger implications. Changing a life is not nearly as clean as changing a treadmill of course: there are a great many more implications than simply powering down and moving over. But implications are not the same as impossibilities.
To start, as I think about it, is to simply check if one is on a treadmill. Is my life essentially standing still? Have I stopped moving forward in important aspects of my life, and am now simply creating ruts? Have I become so enmeshed by everything that I have lost the ability to independently choose and act if I needed to make a change?
If that is the case - and it seems like my own - then there are really only two choices. One is to continue to pound away the miles, going nowhere.
The second is to power down, hop off, and walk through the door into the open sunshine.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Throwing
A funny thing happened to me on the way to the Highland Games... I found out that I could throw.
Not necessarily any better on the whole, you understand. Overall my scores were my scores. But what I found was that in certain events I had something that resembled a form that other throwers actually use. Here is the funny thing: when I threw with that almost form, my distances inevitably improved.
What happened? Something that I had not really anticipated: instead of constantly worrying about every thing, I just got out and threw.
The exception illuminates the example: at one point in light hammer, I lost. I almost threw and lost control. I reset. I started again and hit the ground. I reset. I tried the third time and it circle wildly. I intentionally fouled to get my head out of the game. After all, this was the light hammer - I had already thrown the heavy for a record. Thoughts of hammer heights and winding and foot placement ran through my mind like a stream.
So I shut it off. And walked up the next time, grabbed the hammer, wound it once, and just threw. 47'. A new PR.
Am I going to ever reach the elite Masters? Doubtful - genetics is against me: my body weight is at least 60 pounds below the next competitor. But can I learn to throw and at least be a competitor? Absolutely.
I need only to do.
Not necessarily any better on the whole, you understand. Overall my scores were my scores. But what I found was that in certain events I had something that resembled a form that other throwers actually use. Here is the funny thing: when I threw with that almost form, my distances inevitably improved.
What happened? Something that I had not really anticipated: instead of constantly worrying about every thing, I just got out and threw.
The exception illuminates the example: at one point in light hammer, I lost. I almost threw and lost control. I reset. I started again and hit the ground. I reset. I tried the third time and it circle wildly. I intentionally fouled to get my head out of the game. After all, this was the light hammer - I had already thrown the heavy for a record. Thoughts of hammer heights and winding and foot placement ran through my mind like a stream.
So I shut it off. And walked up the next time, grabbed the hammer, wound it once, and just threw. 47'. A new PR.
Am I going to ever reach the elite Masters? Doubtful - genetics is against me: my body weight is at least 60 pounds below the next competitor. But can I learn to throw and at least be a competitor? Absolutely.
I need only to do.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
Reinvention
Last night as I was driving home the local radio show host noted that in Forbes the 2012-2013 highest grossing living celebrity was Madonna with $125,000,000. He pondered about this a bit and noted that she has been involved in entertainment since 1984 and still continues (apparently) to pull in popularity and revenue. A caller noted that his wife had gotten a book written by her to give to their granddaughter. It is interesting, noted the host, how she has been able to reinvent herself.
Which got me to thinking. Reinvention. Reinventing selves. Celebrities do it: Madonna, Elton John. Robert Downey Jr. But do regular people as well?
And what is reinvention? This is the part where I really began to ponder the implications of such a thing. Is it simply taking everything in your life that is undesirable and doing the exact opposite? Is completely changing your persona? Is it a combination of both or is it even more drastic: a complete reinvention of who you are as a person?
Admittedly most of us probably reinvent ourselves over the course of our lives as we slowly move in to new interests and relationships and move out of old ones as well. But this seems to be something of a natural change in life, much as a tree may send out branches to chase the light without changing the underlying shape of the tree. Reinvention - as discussed and practiced in this context - is much more drastic than that: a total remaking of the public personality into something that someone is not or is at least perceived not to be.
There is certainly no consideration here in reinvention to stay in the public eye (since I am not in it anyway) - but there is some consideration in being able to move forward in my own life - as Socrates noted, the biggest problem with traveling is that we always take ourselves with us everywhere we go. And if ourself is what is holding us back from moving on, perhaps it is time to change that - but in a very conscious and planned way. A reinvention, if you will.
What would such a reinvention look like? I am not fully aware of all the details as I consider it. Surely changing those things that we dislike about ourselves is part of it. But it has to be more than a simple change from one to another. It has to be a grasping of an entirely new thing, as when one drops the sword when two swords are locked together to grapple with the hands to gain the victory. Yottsu te o hanasu, dropping four hands, Musashi said.
I am not fully sure what it looks like - but I fully know it needs to be done. In some ways I have come as far as I can as who I am. To do more, to go farther, I may need to reinvent who am I am, to become (in some ways) someone else.
Which got me to thinking. Reinvention. Reinventing selves. Celebrities do it: Madonna, Elton John. Robert Downey Jr. But do regular people as well?
And what is reinvention? This is the part where I really began to ponder the implications of such a thing. Is it simply taking everything in your life that is undesirable and doing the exact opposite? Is completely changing your persona? Is it a combination of both or is it even more drastic: a complete reinvention of who you are as a person?
Admittedly most of us probably reinvent ourselves over the course of our lives as we slowly move in to new interests and relationships and move out of old ones as well. But this seems to be something of a natural change in life, much as a tree may send out branches to chase the light without changing the underlying shape of the tree. Reinvention - as discussed and practiced in this context - is much more drastic than that: a total remaking of the public personality into something that someone is not or is at least perceived not to be.
There is certainly no consideration here in reinvention to stay in the public eye (since I am not in it anyway) - but there is some consideration in being able to move forward in my own life - as Socrates noted, the biggest problem with traveling is that we always take ourselves with us everywhere we go. And if ourself is what is holding us back from moving on, perhaps it is time to change that - but in a very conscious and planned way. A reinvention, if you will.
What would such a reinvention look like? I am not fully aware of all the details as I consider it. Surely changing those things that we dislike about ourselves is part of it. But it has to be more than a simple change from one to another. It has to be a grasping of an entirely new thing, as when one drops the sword when two swords are locked together to grapple with the hands to gain the victory. Yottsu te o hanasu, dropping four hands, Musashi said.
I am not fully sure what it looks like - but I fully know it needs to be done. In some ways I have come as far as I can as who I am. To do more, to go farther, I may need to reinvent who am I am, to become (in some ways) someone else.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Making Quicker Decisions
What is the precise point at which one decides that one is simply done and moves on? Not the fiftieth conversation we have with ourselves about how we should do something, but the time that it suddenly because a decision made and to be implemented?
I know that it is real. I know because I have done it before. There is just suddenly a sense about you, a determination that this time it is an actual decision and that from this moment onward you are simply going to go about the business of moving in this new direction.
My real interest is probably how does one get to that point more quickly.
As I have discussed before, I am someone to whom the art of making decisions - real decisions, decisions that are acted upon - is difficult. I procrastinate. I temporize. I find reasons to accept the status quo and continue on with it, even as I may become more and more unhappy with the situation at hand. It is only after I seem to reach a point - which arguably I should have reached some time earlier -that I finally make a choice.
And this is the issue: the amount of time it takes to make that choice, to reach that point of commitment, to agree internally that it is time to move forward. Imagine what would be possible if I simply chose to compress this cycle, to make the commitment to move on after, say, three times instead of fifty?
I was reminded of this last night at Nighean Dhonn's soccer practice where her coaches kept encouraging them to "make quick decisions, make quick decisions". Slow decisions made in the course of sports telegraphs one's moves to the other team and gives them time to adjust. It would seem to be no different in my life as well: the amount of time it takes me to commit to making that next step, moving on from the bad situation, gives life or the people involved the ability to "fix" the problem - which never really seems to fix the problem as too often it addresses only the symptoms, not the root cause.
It is not that the evidence may be there - it often is. It is not that need for the change is there - it often is. It is a matter of simply finding the confidence and ability to say "Yes, this really is not right. It is time to do something different. It is time to change this situation."
Because the more quickly we move from the undesired situations the more quickly we are able to move to the better ones.
I know that it is real. I know because I have done it before. There is just suddenly a sense about you, a determination that this time it is an actual decision and that from this moment onward you are simply going to go about the business of moving in this new direction.
My real interest is probably how does one get to that point more quickly.
As I have discussed before, I am someone to whom the art of making decisions - real decisions, decisions that are acted upon - is difficult. I procrastinate. I temporize. I find reasons to accept the status quo and continue on with it, even as I may become more and more unhappy with the situation at hand. It is only after I seem to reach a point - which arguably I should have reached some time earlier -that I finally make a choice.
And this is the issue: the amount of time it takes to make that choice, to reach that point of commitment, to agree internally that it is time to move forward. Imagine what would be possible if I simply chose to compress this cycle, to make the commitment to move on after, say, three times instead of fifty?
I was reminded of this last night at Nighean Dhonn's soccer practice where her coaches kept encouraging them to "make quick decisions, make quick decisions". Slow decisions made in the course of sports telegraphs one's moves to the other team and gives them time to adjust. It would seem to be no different in my life as well: the amount of time it takes me to commit to making that next step, moving on from the bad situation, gives life or the people involved the ability to "fix" the problem - which never really seems to fix the problem as too often it addresses only the symptoms, not the root cause.
It is not that the evidence may be there - it often is. It is not that need for the change is there - it often is. It is a matter of simply finding the confidence and ability to say "Yes, this really is not right. It is time to do something different. It is time to change this situation."
Because the more quickly we move from the undesired situations the more quickly we are able to move to the better ones.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Work Hard, Get Experience, Leave
I had an epiphany at work yesterday.
It is probably no secret to those who know me that I am unhappy with my current position. It is arguable whether or not I am unhappy with my line of work as well: there are days when I can actually look and say that I am making a contribution to the greater good. However, there are reasons which lead to believe that in terms of personal and professional growth, I have reached my limit.
The problem, of course, is finding another position.
Part of that problem, of course, is experience. With so many people in the market with experience it is becoming harder and harder to gain employment. As a result of it being an employer's market, the list of skills and experience one needs to have is becoming greater and greater. There are combinations which 10 years ago would have been unrelated which are now actively sought as requirements.
In other words, it comes down to experience. And thus my ephiphany.
There are days when I am completely unmotivated at work. Days where I feel my effort is wasted and ignored. Days when I try to find the motivation - and cannot. But the experience is valuable to my future - everything I do, every task I complete, every experience I gather is something I can use towards a higher position and greater responsibility.
My ephiphany?
Work Hard.
Get Experience.
Leave.
If one only relies on motivation from the current job, one will inevitably fall short of accomplishing all that one can there. Efforts will be ignored, thanks not given. However, if one can find in the tasks the promise of taking the experiences somewhere else, the work has at least some purpose beyond the immediate accomplishment of tasks: it builds your body of knowledge and what you have done.
But in this world it always needs to be conducted within the context of the greater whole. I am not just working hard to work hard. I am working hard to get the experience, to get the experience (or education or skills - fill in the blank) to move forward in my life; ultimately, to leave.
Is this a panacea for all things work related? Not at all. The environment may still be toxic. People may still be difficult to work with. But at least the effort spent every day is not wasted. It has the power of transmutation, of being transformed from lead into gold in the future. We need only use it that way to make it so.
Work Hard.
Get Experience.
Leave.
It is probably no secret to those who know me that I am unhappy with my current position. It is arguable whether or not I am unhappy with my line of work as well: there are days when I can actually look and say that I am making a contribution to the greater good. However, there are reasons which lead to believe that in terms of personal and professional growth, I have reached my limit.
The problem, of course, is finding another position.
Part of that problem, of course, is experience. With so many people in the market with experience it is becoming harder and harder to gain employment. As a result of it being an employer's market, the list of skills and experience one needs to have is becoming greater and greater. There are combinations which 10 years ago would have been unrelated which are now actively sought as requirements.
In other words, it comes down to experience. And thus my ephiphany.
There are days when I am completely unmotivated at work. Days where I feel my effort is wasted and ignored. Days when I try to find the motivation - and cannot. But the experience is valuable to my future - everything I do, every task I complete, every experience I gather is something I can use towards a higher position and greater responsibility.
My ephiphany?
Work Hard.
Get Experience.
Leave.
If one only relies on motivation from the current job, one will inevitably fall short of accomplishing all that one can there. Efforts will be ignored, thanks not given. However, if one can find in the tasks the promise of taking the experiences somewhere else, the work has at least some purpose beyond the immediate accomplishment of tasks: it builds your body of knowledge and what you have done.
But in this world it always needs to be conducted within the context of the greater whole. I am not just working hard to work hard. I am working hard to get the experience, to get the experience (or education or skills - fill in the blank) to move forward in my life; ultimately, to leave.
Is this a panacea for all things work related? Not at all. The environment may still be toxic. People may still be difficult to work with. But at least the effort spent every day is not wasted. It has the power of transmutation, of being transformed from lead into gold in the future. We need only use it that way to make it so.
Work Hard.
Get Experience.
Leave.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Proof III
So my proof arrived this weekend.
I am excited because this looks like a real book - about 180 pages long - and represents my most significant attempt at writing to date - as you may recall, the genesis for this book was almost a year ago during National Novel Writing Month. It is 50,000 words (more or less) - in other words, an actual book.
Going through the proof has been a little depressing - although I reviewed it three different times, I am still shocked at the amount of errors that I have missed. That, of course, is a little disheartening as one continues to find them. But I have to keep things in perspective: 1) It is about 50,000 words; and 2) I have no editorial staff (except myself) to catch these things. Sometimes I am my own worst enemy.
But I need to makes sure that I do not lose the larger picture. I have received back a proof - by the end of the month, I will achieve the goal of having released it. In terms of writing, that now makes three books that I have self published - three books that, at the beginning of 2012, simply did not exist.
Perhaps I cannot do everything, but I can do more than I imagine. I need only make the effort.
I am excited because this looks like a real book - about 180 pages long - and represents my most significant attempt at writing to date - as you may recall, the genesis for this book was almost a year ago during National Novel Writing Month. It is 50,000 words (more or less) - in other words, an actual book.
Going through the proof has been a little depressing - although I reviewed it three different times, I am still shocked at the amount of errors that I have missed. That, of course, is a little disheartening as one continues to find them. But I have to keep things in perspective: 1) It is about 50,000 words; and 2) I have no editorial staff (except myself) to catch these things. Sometimes I am my own worst enemy.
But I need to makes sure that I do not lose the larger picture. I have received back a proof - by the end of the month, I will achieve the goal of having released it. In terms of writing, that now makes three books that I have self published - three books that, at the beginning of 2012, simply did not exist.
Perhaps I cannot do everything, but I can do more than I imagine. I need only make the effort.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Expected Instead of Recognized
There is nothing worse than having your efforts and accomplishments ignored.
It happened to me yesterday. In front a large group of people as part of the recounting of events, the accomplishment of an audit with no observations - arguably an important event - was not even mentioned.
One's mind runs the gamut in such situations. First one lets it pass by. Then one becomes angry, then agitated, finally settling into a simmering heat. Two weeks of preparation. 3 days of effort, accomplishing nothing else. All to have it swept under the carpet.
This is one of the questions I have added to my repertoire of questions during interviews: "How do you recognize and reward achievement?" It is a bold question, I know. But I have come to realize that how companies portray their recognition of effort is how the ultimately treat those that work for them.
To treat the extraordinary as ordinary is to ensure that efforts will become minimized. There is nothing more enervating that to demonstrate in actions that the effort that everyone claims they want to see is nothing more than something to be expected - and ignored.
For me? There is nothing much to do at the present time: any public display of "look at me" looks exactly like the petulant activity it is designed to be. It will hardly change the course of my year. But it does (perhaps finally) give me some of the clarity that I have been seeking.
As Seth Godin would say, in today's economy no-one is going to pick you. Pick yourself.
It happened to me yesterday. In front a large group of people as part of the recounting of events, the accomplishment of an audit with no observations - arguably an important event - was not even mentioned.
One's mind runs the gamut in such situations. First one lets it pass by. Then one becomes angry, then agitated, finally settling into a simmering heat. Two weeks of preparation. 3 days of effort, accomplishing nothing else. All to have it swept under the carpet.
This is one of the questions I have added to my repertoire of questions during interviews: "How do you recognize and reward achievement?" It is a bold question, I know. But I have come to realize that how companies portray their recognition of effort is how the ultimately treat those that work for them.
To treat the extraordinary as ordinary is to ensure that efforts will become minimized. There is nothing more enervating that to demonstrate in actions that the effort that everyone claims they want to see is nothing more than something to be expected - and ignored.
For me? There is nothing much to do at the present time: any public display of "look at me" looks exactly like the petulant activity it is designed to be. It will hardly change the course of my year. But it does (perhaps finally) give me some of the clarity that I have been seeking.
As Seth Godin would say, in today's economy no-one is going to pick you. Pick yourself.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
People Who Do Not Want To Win
I have come to the conclusion that many people do not want to win.
Oh, they say the do. They say they want to reach their goals or be the boss or win the lottery. They say they want to see something through to completion or make the change that changes everything. But in point of fact, they do not really want to.
Why? This puzzled me a bit. After all, is not winning - however you define that - the goal? Is not moving forward towards victory - be it an election or a simple thing like losing 10 pounds - the point of what we want to do? If we do not, life simply becomes a series of tasks that we have to life through, a treadmill which we on which we are constantly moving but never moving forward.
I think I know why.
Many people do not want to win because they have not been taught how to win.
What is winning? Winning is victory. It is an outcome which you sought and achieved. It is the 10 lbs lost. It is the local election won. It is the race you finished, even if you were the last one.
But winning - just winning - does not stop there. There is always the next step.
Sports teams understand this. It is called the season. There is are a series of games in it. The team plays each one. How foolish would it seem if the team decided after their first win "We are done! We have made it!" - and then proceeded to lose the rest of the games. No one would call them winners. We would call them losers.
Is there an ultimate win? Of course. It is called the championship. Even then, with the trophy and the acclaim, there is still another season, another set of games to win.
We have become trained to accomplish tasks, to check things off our lists. We have not been trained to win - and by win I mean not only achieve the victory, but realize that there is another win, another task, another goal to complete.
Winning is not static and passive. It is active and ongoing. Those that are winners understand this. Those that do not will feebly achieve once or twice, sigh, and then declare that that they do not have the ability to win.
Be different. Be a winner.
Oh, they say the do. They say they want to reach their goals or be the boss or win the lottery. They say they want to see something through to completion or make the change that changes everything. But in point of fact, they do not really want to.
Why? This puzzled me a bit. After all, is not winning - however you define that - the goal? Is not moving forward towards victory - be it an election or a simple thing like losing 10 pounds - the point of what we want to do? If we do not, life simply becomes a series of tasks that we have to life through, a treadmill which we on which we are constantly moving but never moving forward.
I think I know why.
Many people do not want to win because they have not been taught how to win.
What is winning? Winning is victory. It is an outcome which you sought and achieved. It is the 10 lbs lost. It is the local election won. It is the race you finished, even if you were the last one.
But winning - just winning - does not stop there. There is always the next step.
Sports teams understand this. It is called the season. There is are a series of games in it. The team plays each one. How foolish would it seem if the team decided after their first win "We are done! We have made it!" - and then proceeded to lose the rest of the games. No one would call them winners. We would call them losers.
Is there an ultimate win? Of course. It is called the championship. Even then, with the trophy and the acclaim, there is still another season, another set of games to win.
We have become trained to accomplish tasks, to check things off our lists. We have not been trained to win - and by win I mean not only achieve the victory, but realize that there is another win, another task, another goal to complete.
Winning is not static and passive. It is active and ongoing. Those that are winners understand this. Those that do not will feebly achieve once or twice, sigh, and then declare that that they do not have the ability to win.
Be different. Be a winner.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Letting Go of the Need for Pleasing Others
I am finding that one of the hardest things to let go of is the continual sense of wanting to deeply please others to have them like me.
This is an old feeling, one that stems from a long way back in my own history. It is not a bad quality in general of course: if people feel pleasantly about your or concerning you, they are more likely to help you out or do what you ask. That is a fine thing and certainly a cornerstone of general human interactions. But it tends to consume your life when in moves into the personal realm as well.
It becomes an anchor - a thing which constantly holds one back from doing or trying other things. One is always concerned with what others are thinking about you and how that impacts whether or not they like (or even love) you. All one's actions become a series of carefully constructed events, while one carefully watches out of one's eye for the slightest hint (real or imagined) that the other either likes or dislikes what is being done. Even the slightest hint of disapproval is enough to stop enjoyment of an activity; even the slightest hint of approval is enough to propel one into greater efforts.
This is a fool's game, of course: one becomes a construct of the likes and dislikes of others rather than one's own person. Not only are interests and activities pursued based on what the other may think, but unchecked our very lives become not our own but what we think someone else things our lives should be like.
It is a terrible way to live.
What is the solution? The simplest and yet most difficult of all things: simply be yourself.
Simply be yourself, unfettered by the potential likes or dislikes of those around you. Pursue - truly pursue - those things which interest you. Pay scant attention to those whose approval you used to seek as to their opinion of it. Whether they like or dislike it is neither indicator of their level of like or dislike of you nor of the value you have as a person.
Because in the end, you will be you. Truly you. You will find those kindred spirits for whom such things hold interest. And you will also find that the opinions of those who you thought mattered did not really matter at all.
This is an old feeling, one that stems from a long way back in my own history. It is not a bad quality in general of course: if people feel pleasantly about your or concerning you, they are more likely to help you out or do what you ask. That is a fine thing and certainly a cornerstone of general human interactions. But it tends to consume your life when in moves into the personal realm as well.
It becomes an anchor - a thing which constantly holds one back from doing or trying other things. One is always concerned with what others are thinking about you and how that impacts whether or not they like (or even love) you. All one's actions become a series of carefully constructed events, while one carefully watches out of one's eye for the slightest hint (real or imagined) that the other either likes or dislikes what is being done. Even the slightest hint of disapproval is enough to stop enjoyment of an activity; even the slightest hint of approval is enough to propel one into greater efforts.
This is a fool's game, of course: one becomes a construct of the likes and dislikes of others rather than one's own person. Not only are interests and activities pursued based on what the other may think, but unchecked our very lives become not our own but what we think someone else things our lives should be like.
It is a terrible way to live.
What is the solution? The simplest and yet most difficult of all things: simply be yourself.
Simply be yourself, unfettered by the potential likes or dislikes of those around you. Pursue - truly pursue - those things which interest you. Pay scant attention to those whose approval you used to seek as to their opinion of it. Whether they like or dislike it is neither indicator of their level of like or dislike of you nor of the value you have as a person.
Because in the end, you will be you. Truly you. You will find those kindred spirits for whom such things hold interest. And you will also find that the opinions of those who you thought mattered did not really matter at all.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Unable to Compete
I have realized that in a lot of ways I am unable to compete.
Oh, not in Highland Athletics or Running or Iaijustu or any of the other activities I do. There, I will continue to compete, even if I am always destined to be in the rear of the pack. No, my inability to compete lies largely with much of the world.
I am not as exciting as a TV program. I am not as interesting as Pintrest. I am not as riveting as a sporting event.
I confess that for years this bothered me - after all, I am a person and therefore by default should be of more interest. But what I've come to realize is that by forcing such interest, one accomplishes nothing.
It was very much like this when I was in high school and even college trying date. The lengths I would go to so that I was interesting, the amount of effort I would spend constantly be in the world of the person I was pursuing - all so that I would be seen as someone interesting and desirable and worthy of attention.
It never quite worked out, of course - the problem with trying to generate interest in one's self is that unless real interest is there, the whole structure falls apart as soon as attention is distracted from it. It is an interest that has to be constantly maintained to be active, which becomes not an interest at all but rather almost a marketing campaign which will fail as soon as the next model comes along.
And thus, the simple acceptance that I am unable to compete.
Am I worried? Surely not - I have plenty to occupy my time and plenty of people around me who grace me with their friendship not because of anything I inherently have or can do but simply because we are kindred spirits. And surely at some point the interest will turn: the show will run out of seasons, the website will get old, the season will end.
And I will still be here - perhaps not as flashy as the rest but secure in the fact instead of wasting my time and energy competing, I have simply continued on in being and doing.
Oh, not in Highland Athletics or Running or Iaijustu or any of the other activities I do. There, I will continue to compete, even if I am always destined to be in the rear of the pack. No, my inability to compete lies largely with much of the world.
I am not as exciting as a TV program. I am not as interesting as Pintrest. I am not as riveting as a sporting event.
I confess that for years this bothered me - after all, I am a person and therefore by default should be of more interest. But what I've come to realize is that by forcing such interest, one accomplishes nothing.
It was very much like this when I was in high school and even college trying date. The lengths I would go to so that I was interesting, the amount of effort I would spend constantly be in the world of the person I was pursuing - all so that I would be seen as someone interesting and desirable and worthy of attention.
It never quite worked out, of course - the problem with trying to generate interest in one's self is that unless real interest is there, the whole structure falls apart as soon as attention is distracted from it. It is an interest that has to be constantly maintained to be active, which becomes not an interest at all but rather almost a marketing campaign which will fail as soon as the next model comes along.
And thus, the simple acceptance that I am unable to compete.
Am I worried? Surely not - I have plenty to occupy my time and plenty of people around me who grace me with their friendship not because of anything I inherently have or can do but simply because we are kindred spirits. And surely at some point the interest will turn: the show will run out of seasons, the website will get old, the season will end.
And I will still be here - perhaps not as flashy as the rest but secure in the fact instead of wasting my time and energy competing, I have simply continued on in being and doing.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Pause
Feeling a little lost this October morning.
My life feels....lost. In translation. Or maybe in transition. I am not really sure how to regard it.
I am not sure who I feel like. Certainly not myself - or the way I perceive myself. Sure, I go through all the motions of the life that I lead. I do the things that I have always done. I interact with the family that I have interacted. And yet there seems to be a disconnect between these activities and me.
Maybe interacting with high school students more has me thinking - thinking about when I was in school and how the world was a blank canvas ready to be painted on, where in so many ways I did not realize or accept the concept of things I could and could not do. When possibilities seemed endless. When things such as honor and romance still seemed alive - the old style, as in the High Middle Ages or the great sagas of Japan..
When the people I enjoyed spending time with - my friends - were the ones I spent almost all my time with, not snippets of phone conversations and short electronic posts wedged into our lives.
I understand we cannot go back in time and in many ways I would not want to. Still, that enthusiasm and the possibilities that lay before us tantalize me with the phantom-like appearance that comes to me through association. It almost becomes a longing as I go through my essentially pre-programmed day of activities and items I need to do.
Is this it? Is this all there really is to being where I am today? If not, where does the renewed promise of such enthusiasm and zest and belief come from?
My life feels....lost. In translation. Or maybe in transition. I am not really sure how to regard it.
I am not sure who I feel like. Certainly not myself - or the way I perceive myself. Sure, I go through all the motions of the life that I lead. I do the things that I have always done. I interact with the family that I have interacted. And yet there seems to be a disconnect between these activities and me.
Maybe interacting with high school students more has me thinking - thinking about when I was in school and how the world was a blank canvas ready to be painted on, where in so many ways I did not realize or accept the concept of things I could and could not do. When possibilities seemed endless. When things such as honor and romance still seemed alive - the old style, as in the High Middle Ages or the great sagas of Japan..
When the people I enjoyed spending time with - my friends - were the ones I spent almost all my time with, not snippets of phone conversations and short electronic posts wedged into our lives.
I understand we cannot go back in time and in many ways I would not want to. Still, that enthusiasm and the possibilities that lay before us tantalize me with the phantom-like appearance that comes to me through association. It almost becomes a longing as I go through my essentially pre-programmed day of activities and items I need to do.
Is this it? Is this all there really is to being where I am today? If not, where does the renewed promise of such enthusiasm and zest and belief come from?
Friday, October 11, 2013
Manuscript
So my manuscript is essentially edited.
This has been a long uphill battle - not the writing so much (that was completed in November of last year) as the editing. Part of my reluctance has been the initial comments that I received and the subsequent doubts that I had about what I wrote; some of it was simply an output of the fact that editing is not something I have done a great deal of and so I am slow at.
Either way, the task is done.
I will make my corrections and upload the manuscript and order the physical proof. Assuming there is nothing that is significantly wrong that cannot be corrected via word processing, the book will be ready to release.
How do I feel about it? More of a sense of relief than anything else. This has been nagging at my mind for almost a year now, wanting to get completed so I can mentally move on to the next project. There is something to the quote "Artists ship" by Steve Jobs - not only from the idea that things need to be moved to completion and out the door, but that we need to complete our projects so that we can mentally and spiritually move on to the next one.
Nanowrimo is coming. I want to be writing.
This has been a long uphill battle - not the writing so much (that was completed in November of last year) as the editing. Part of my reluctance has been the initial comments that I received and the subsequent doubts that I had about what I wrote; some of it was simply an output of the fact that editing is not something I have done a great deal of and so I am slow at.
Either way, the task is done.
I will make my corrections and upload the manuscript and order the physical proof. Assuming there is nothing that is significantly wrong that cannot be corrected via word processing, the book will be ready to release.
How do I feel about it? More of a sense of relief than anything else. This has been nagging at my mind for almost a year now, wanting to get completed so I can mentally move on to the next project. There is something to the quote "Artists ship" by Steve Jobs - not only from the idea that things need to be moved to completion and out the door, but that we need to complete our projects so that we can mentally and spiritually move on to the next one.
Nanowrimo is coming. I want to be writing.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Hit
So yesterday I got rear-ended. Complete stop. The very nice (and very embarrassed) lady behind me saw the green light and reacted. The front of her car is smashed. My bumper is beaten (but I beat it back on for the time being) and muffler is at angle that is probably not right. No-one was injured - all in all a pretty minor incident.
What surprised me about it was her reaction. We got out, looked at the damage, and exchanged information. She was a little shaken (unsurprisingly). I was more concerned about her than the car. Her response to the incident was something along the lines of being surprised and grateful that I was taking things so well.
I shrugged it off at the time but thought about it later. I truly wasn't all that concerned. The biggest issue - her health and my own - seemed intact. Accidents happen - and we usually don't intend them to, that is why we call them accidents - so it is not as if we plan them to. The cars, although nice, are simply things. They can be repaired or totaled - and I don't get to control that process at all.
I carried on until, driving later, I passed three cars pulling off the road. Looked like a small rear end accident. The damage to the car did not seem to be near that of the one that hit me and the car that was "hit" had no visible damage. But you could tell the driver that had been hit - her body language and her short conversation to the driver of the other car indicated that such a thing was a very big deal. It was going to be an unpleasant incident - and the police would undoubtedly show up for this one.
Is this what we've become? A society that is so concerned about our things and our place in them that we expect people to explode when things like accidents occur? Where we believe that we have a right to our anger for our inconvenience? Where we have blurred the lines of importance to where things truly are seen as equal to individuals? Where worrying about the impact on our lives overshadows the other individual involved?
I was in an accident yesterday. My car will need to be repaired. No-one was injured.
There really are more crucial things to my life - and to all of our lives.
What surprised me about it was her reaction. We got out, looked at the damage, and exchanged information. She was a little shaken (unsurprisingly). I was more concerned about her than the car. Her response to the incident was something along the lines of being surprised and grateful that I was taking things so well.
I shrugged it off at the time but thought about it later. I truly wasn't all that concerned. The biggest issue - her health and my own - seemed intact. Accidents happen - and we usually don't intend them to, that is why we call them accidents - so it is not as if we plan them to. The cars, although nice, are simply things. They can be repaired or totaled - and I don't get to control that process at all.
I carried on until, driving later, I passed three cars pulling off the road. Looked like a small rear end accident. The damage to the car did not seem to be near that of the one that hit me and the car that was "hit" had no visible damage. But you could tell the driver that had been hit - her body language and her short conversation to the driver of the other car indicated that such a thing was a very big deal. It was going to be an unpleasant incident - and the police would undoubtedly show up for this one.
Is this what we've become? A society that is so concerned about our things and our place in them that we expect people to explode when things like accidents occur? Where we believe that we have a right to our anger for our inconvenience? Where we have blurred the lines of importance to where things truly are seen as equal to individuals? Where worrying about the impact on our lives overshadows the other individual involved?
I was in an accident yesterday. My car will need to be repaired. No-one was injured.
There really are more crucial things to my life - and to all of our lives.
Wednesday, October 09, 2013
Collapsed Cheese
So cheese making occurred this weekend.
This has been something which I have had to temporarily suspend due to our impending move, and then our move, and then our unpacking. The situation with cheese making is not so much that it requires a lot of time - it does not - as much as it requires focused attention at certain points in the process: hold for this long, slowly stir for this long, press for this long, etc. It requires focus which can happen as an adjunct to other activities but they need to be able to be dropped at a moment.
I was making English Farmhouse Cheese, a relatively simple cheese that I have often made: hold 75 minutes, cut the curds, drain into molds and flip. The first three steps went perfectly. The last was a bit of a problem, as it often seems to be.
The nature of the cheese draining is that it is accomplished by gravity: as the whey settles out, the curds are pressed together. At some point one turns over the mold to get the cheese out. Herein lies the difficulty: wait too long and the cheese will not drop consistently but rather in pieces, wait too short and the cheese will loose its shape as there is still too much whey in the curds.
This was one of the too short days: the cheese either collapsed or completely lost its shape. It is initially very disappointing of course, as the cheese looks terrible. I started mentally kicking myself and reminding myself of how I cannot do anything.
And then I tasted it. Still tasted the same.
I took a moment to reflect - the cheese is going nowhere but in our house. The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Na Clann do not care how the cheese looks, just how it tastes. Yes, it would be better if it was visually attractive - but for the purpose for which it was to be used it was just fine.
It was good reminder to myself not only of how sometimes the end result is not as important as the process. It was also a good accountability as to continuing to do something - to often I fail in executing and then suddenly retreat from an activity, decreeing that I am not good enough - and never will be.
The reality is this: sometimes it looks good, sometimes it does not. The cheese, however, will still taste the same.
This has been something which I have had to temporarily suspend due to our impending move, and then our move, and then our unpacking. The situation with cheese making is not so much that it requires a lot of time - it does not - as much as it requires focused attention at certain points in the process: hold for this long, slowly stir for this long, press for this long, etc. It requires focus which can happen as an adjunct to other activities but they need to be able to be dropped at a moment.
I was making English Farmhouse Cheese, a relatively simple cheese that I have often made: hold 75 minutes, cut the curds, drain into molds and flip. The first three steps went perfectly. The last was a bit of a problem, as it often seems to be.
The nature of the cheese draining is that it is accomplished by gravity: as the whey settles out, the curds are pressed together. At some point one turns over the mold to get the cheese out. Herein lies the difficulty: wait too long and the cheese will not drop consistently but rather in pieces, wait too short and the cheese will loose its shape as there is still too much whey in the curds.
This was one of the too short days: the cheese either collapsed or completely lost its shape. It is initially very disappointing of course, as the cheese looks terrible. I started mentally kicking myself and reminding myself of how I cannot do anything.
And then I tasted it. Still tasted the same.
I took a moment to reflect - the cheese is going nowhere but in our house. The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Na Clann do not care how the cheese looks, just how it tastes. Yes, it would be better if it was visually attractive - but for the purpose for which it was to be used it was just fine.
It was good reminder to myself not only of how sometimes the end result is not as important as the process. It was also a good accountability as to continuing to do something - to often I fail in executing and then suddenly retreat from an activity, decreeing that I am not good enough - and never will be.
The reality is this: sometimes it looks good, sometimes it does not. The cheese, however, will still taste the same.
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
Monday, October 07, 2013
The Last Good Day
I remember the last good day.
It was Halloween last year. We were still located in the old back area, with its ghosts of the previous employees still haunting the cubes. Fear Mor had decided that we were going to enter the pumpkin carving contest so he had procured a pumpkin and set of tools. An Ghearmannaich went one better: find a dremel tool, he began carving a quail into the side of the pumpkin. Fear Beag was on the sidelines making commentary, and The Other was in the corner, watching.
I call it the last good day because it is the last time I can remember us as a department having a good time together. We were all getting along, we were all located near each other and there was a genuine sense that we were meshed as a unit. There was laughter and jokes and sarcasm and probably some off-color comments as well. It felt like everything that a good work team environment should be.
Nothing, of course, lasts forever.
Relationships frayed (as they always do) to the point some would not talk with others. People left - first Fear Mor, then The Other, and finally An Ghearmannaich. The space has changed as well - perceived as being too far away (and taking up too much space), we were relocated in the building: 3 of us crammed up together in a space for 2 and the 2 others put halfway across the building (until they too both left, leaving us as a small appendix in a larger building).
That space has become doubly haunted now - not just by the ghosts of previous employees but by the ghosts of us, wandering through the file cabinets with their documents that scarcely anyone will review again. When I am back there I occasionally hear the laughter in the depths of the solitude.
This almost Halloween - scarcely a year later - it will be myself and Fear Beag to celebrate the holiday. I doubt we will be carving a pumpkin this year, or even thinking about going to the general celebrations. There's something about a real life haunting - a haunting of the soul - that leaves one somewhat chary of engaging in a party pretending to celebrate the same thing.
It was Halloween last year. We were still located in the old back area, with its ghosts of the previous employees still haunting the cubes. Fear Mor had decided that we were going to enter the pumpkin carving contest so he had procured a pumpkin and set of tools. An Ghearmannaich went one better: find a dremel tool, he began carving a quail into the side of the pumpkin. Fear Beag was on the sidelines making commentary, and The Other was in the corner, watching.
I call it the last good day because it is the last time I can remember us as a department having a good time together. We were all getting along, we were all located near each other and there was a genuine sense that we were meshed as a unit. There was laughter and jokes and sarcasm and probably some off-color comments as well. It felt like everything that a good work team environment should be.
Nothing, of course, lasts forever.
Relationships frayed (as they always do) to the point some would not talk with others. People left - first Fear Mor, then The Other, and finally An Ghearmannaich. The space has changed as well - perceived as being too far away (and taking up too much space), we were relocated in the building: 3 of us crammed up together in a space for 2 and the 2 others put halfway across the building (until they too both left, leaving us as a small appendix in a larger building).
That space has become doubly haunted now - not just by the ghosts of previous employees but by the ghosts of us, wandering through the file cabinets with their documents that scarcely anyone will review again. When I am back there I occasionally hear the laughter in the depths of the solitude.
This almost Halloween - scarcely a year later - it will be myself and Fear Beag to celebrate the holiday. I doubt we will be carving a pumpkin this year, or even thinking about going to the general celebrations. There's something about a real life haunting - a haunting of the soul - that leaves one somewhat chary of engaging in a party pretending to celebrate the same thing.
Friday, October 04, 2013
Oscillation
I find myself oscillating between extremes.
I find myself either excited or frustrated, angry or relatively satisfied. I suppose the oscillation itself is something one can learn to live with. What bothers me is the unbalance between these two states: I find myself far more frustrated and angry than excited and relatively satisfied.
Where does the anger and frustration come from? Lately (as you may have gleaned from my writings) it is largely stemming from my work: not so much the work per se, but the great extent to which I feel powerless to impact or change things in any meaningful way. Instead, the ability to do anything other than tasks - i.e. change policy or make significant tasks - is extraordinarily limited.
Maybe it has been this way everywhere else I have been. Memory is always faulty of course, and I may very well be wrong on this. But with one exception in which the circumstances were similar, I can scarcely recall a time that I have felt so unable to do more than simply execute work.
And maybe that is the core of the problem. I want to do more. I want to be able to set policy, to a make a difference, to impact people's lives. Too often in my current role my ability to do all of these seems extraordinarily limited.
A couple of things have come out of this experience which I need to capitalize on:
1) The choice of who is above you is critical. A bad manager completely makes the difference between a bearable job and a prison.
2) I have limited patience in and stomach for personnel related issues. I enjoy working with people in my group as primus inter pares, or first among equals. I do not do well in hierarchies.
3) I want to be able to make a difference in people's lives and impact them - not just necessarily in ways to just make them feel better but in ways that make a difference in the lives.
I am not sure what to do with information. I am relatively sure none of this can be implemented in my current role in a way that would truly satisfy these longings. Perhaps there is nothing more to take away than to remember that, as someone has said, your next decision is your best decision.
I find myself either excited or frustrated, angry or relatively satisfied. I suppose the oscillation itself is something one can learn to live with. What bothers me is the unbalance between these two states: I find myself far more frustrated and angry than excited and relatively satisfied.
Where does the anger and frustration come from? Lately (as you may have gleaned from my writings) it is largely stemming from my work: not so much the work per se, but the great extent to which I feel powerless to impact or change things in any meaningful way. Instead, the ability to do anything other than tasks - i.e. change policy or make significant tasks - is extraordinarily limited.
Maybe it has been this way everywhere else I have been. Memory is always faulty of course, and I may very well be wrong on this. But with one exception in which the circumstances were similar, I can scarcely recall a time that I have felt so unable to do more than simply execute work.
And maybe that is the core of the problem. I want to do more. I want to be able to set policy, to a make a difference, to impact people's lives. Too often in my current role my ability to do all of these seems extraordinarily limited.
A couple of things have come out of this experience which I need to capitalize on:
1) The choice of who is above you is critical. A bad manager completely makes the difference between a bearable job and a prison.
2) I have limited patience in and stomach for personnel related issues. I enjoy working with people in my group as primus inter pares, or first among equals. I do not do well in hierarchies.
3) I want to be able to make a difference in people's lives and impact them - not just necessarily in ways to just make them feel better but in ways that make a difference in the lives.
I am not sure what to do with information. I am relatively sure none of this can be implemented in my current role in a way that would truly satisfy these longings. Perhaps there is nothing more to take away than to remember that, as someone has said, your next decision is your best decision.
Thursday, October 03, 2013
Moments of Clarity
A moment of true, unaltered clarity can be one of the most elusive things in life. We can have epiphanies, we can have ideas, we can have understandings but a true moment of clarity - that piercing instant when something something suddenly becomes completely clear.
Such a thing happened to me yesterday.
It was a meeting that many who work in the corporate world will be familiar with: the HR meeting, where the process of dealing with employee difficulties (opportunities for improvement, if you will) was being reviewed. The presentation was more entertaining than most but much of the content still the same from any HR presentation one would recognize. And then, suddenly tucked away in time midst of a discussion of supervisors came the following statement: "If employees don't like their supervisors, they're free to vote with their feet."
It just hung there for a moment, floating in air. Someone apparently did not understand it and questioned it again and the same words came out: "If employees don't like their supervisors, they're free to vote with their feet. They can leave."
The world became piercingly sharp in its clarity for a moment.
The implications were obvious. After all of the discussion we had just had concerning how supervisors were to help guide their employees and deal with issues, the equivalent relationship - that of how employees deal with their supervisors - was summarily addressed: "If employees don't like their supervisors, they're free to vote with their feet."
All of a sudden much of my consternation melted away.
Why? Because there was no longer any need to bear it. There was no need to be hopeful or even concerned that such things would change - because as a matter of policy, they would not. Management would not - except, I assume, in extreme circumstances - hold supervisors to the same process and program that they would hold employees. The relationships above are less relationships than they are religious relationships: take what is given to you, and like it. If not, find a new religion.
Or new workplace.
Things did not change other things, of course. My job will be the same this morning as it was yesterday. But I go to work this morning with a clarity of understanding that I did not have yesterday. We are often taught that we can - and should - change things if they are incorrect or wrong. What I realized yesterday is that this is simply not only true. The only thing you can truly change is yourself. And if changing yourself does not resolve the issue, perhaps it is best to realize that voting with your feet is the best path towards making a better tomorrow for yourself.
Such a thing happened to me yesterday.
It was a meeting that many who work in the corporate world will be familiar with: the HR meeting, where the process of dealing with employee difficulties (opportunities for improvement, if you will) was being reviewed. The presentation was more entertaining than most but much of the content still the same from any HR presentation one would recognize. And then, suddenly tucked away in time midst of a discussion of supervisors came the following statement: "If employees don't like their supervisors, they're free to vote with their feet."
It just hung there for a moment, floating in air. Someone apparently did not understand it and questioned it again and the same words came out: "If employees don't like their supervisors, they're free to vote with their feet. They can leave."
The world became piercingly sharp in its clarity for a moment.
The implications were obvious. After all of the discussion we had just had concerning how supervisors were to help guide their employees and deal with issues, the equivalent relationship - that of how employees deal with their supervisors - was summarily addressed: "If employees don't like their supervisors, they're free to vote with their feet."
All of a sudden much of my consternation melted away.
Why? Because there was no longer any need to bear it. There was no need to be hopeful or even concerned that such things would change - because as a matter of policy, they would not. Management would not - except, I assume, in extreme circumstances - hold supervisors to the same process and program that they would hold employees. The relationships above are less relationships than they are religious relationships: take what is given to you, and like it. If not, find a new religion.
Or new workplace.
Things did not change other things, of course. My job will be the same this morning as it was yesterday. But I go to work this morning with a clarity of understanding that I did not have yesterday. We are often taught that we can - and should - change things if they are incorrect or wrong. What I realized yesterday is that this is simply not only true. The only thing you can truly change is yourself. And if changing yourself does not resolve the issue, perhaps it is best to realize that voting with your feet is the best path towards making a better tomorrow for yourself.
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Tuesday, October 01, 2013
Struggling
I am struggling this week.
I feel powerless to change anything. My life seems completely overtaken by events beyond my ability to change them.
Work is slowly devolving into a long list of things that simply needs to be done - and not enough people to do them. The impending departure of An Ghearmannich and the absence of Fear Beag has given me a taste of what life will be like from here on out: too much work, too much quiet, no spirit. In other words, a typical office environment.
The triumph of the status quo has not helped either. Within two weeks we will be right back where we were, sacrificing another period of time to do another update meeting for another set of people who won't be doing any of the work. The changes I kept hoping would come - daring I use the word fantasizing would come? - have not arrived. I am reminded, yet again, that I am merely someone to do the work that others command - and make it ridiculously easy for them to do in the process.
More help? Unknown. The appropriate paperwork was filed. That said, the filing of paperwork is scarcely a guarantee of anything, let alone of actually getting the help one needs. And that is just the listing of the position - there is still the culling, the interviewing, the realization that you will probably not get what you had.
All the time grappling with the concept that your department has one of the most critical roles in the company - as defined by law - and yet it has the least of people to carry them out.
Home feels little better. Our lives have devolved into a series of schedules, transporting one here and another there and making sure things happen on time. Add to this the daily things that simply need to be done in life - dishes washed, clothes put away, general picking up - and suddenly the time has simply been whisked away.
I try to convince myself that my feelings are deriving from a lack of sleep so I try to go to bed earlier. I am unsuccessful in my effort as I still seem to wake up the same amounts of time - and everything that has to be done is still there.
I am trying to find some shred of encouragement, so sign that all of this is leading to some greater end that I simply cannot see right now. All I seem to keep coming back to is a list of e-mails in the in-box of my life, all bearing tasks to do or requests to do things which have not been done.
There are times, I suppose, I dreamed of being a leader. I find I am simply a doer of tasks.
I feel powerless to change anything. My life seems completely overtaken by events beyond my ability to change them.
Work is slowly devolving into a long list of things that simply needs to be done - and not enough people to do them. The impending departure of An Ghearmannich and the absence of Fear Beag has given me a taste of what life will be like from here on out: too much work, too much quiet, no spirit. In other words, a typical office environment.
The triumph of the status quo has not helped either. Within two weeks we will be right back where we were, sacrificing another period of time to do another update meeting for another set of people who won't be doing any of the work. The changes I kept hoping would come - daring I use the word fantasizing would come? - have not arrived. I am reminded, yet again, that I am merely someone to do the work that others command - and make it ridiculously easy for them to do in the process.
More help? Unknown. The appropriate paperwork was filed. That said, the filing of paperwork is scarcely a guarantee of anything, let alone of actually getting the help one needs. And that is just the listing of the position - there is still the culling, the interviewing, the realization that you will probably not get what you had.
All the time grappling with the concept that your department has one of the most critical roles in the company - as defined by law - and yet it has the least of people to carry them out.
Home feels little better. Our lives have devolved into a series of schedules, transporting one here and another there and making sure things happen on time. Add to this the daily things that simply need to be done in life - dishes washed, clothes put away, general picking up - and suddenly the time has simply been whisked away.
I try to convince myself that my feelings are deriving from a lack of sleep so I try to go to bed earlier. I am unsuccessful in my effort as I still seem to wake up the same amounts of time - and everything that has to be done is still there.
I am trying to find some shred of encouragement, so sign that all of this is leading to some greater end that I simply cannot see right now. All I seem to keep coming back to is a list of e-mails in the in-box of my life, all bearing tasks to do or requests to do things which have not been done.
There are times, I suppose, I dreamed of being a leader. I find I am simply a doer of tasks.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Asserting One's Self
So we made a sort of breakthrough this week: we figured out that 1) I can be assertive; and 2) that I am best at being assertive where such behavior can actually create change.
Assertive: Disposed to or characterized by bold or confident statements and behavior
It has shown itself in a plethora of small ways: deciding to sell the car - and then deciding to ask twice what I was going to, and getting it. Making the decision I was going to go to the Highland Games - and going. Making decisions about what will be prioritized at work instead of patiently waiting for others to decide. Deciding what and when will be used for a gardening area.
All good. All empowering.
But we discovered a second thing as well: that assertiveness practiced in an atmosphere of hierarchy is counterproductive.
There is nothing more discouraging than making a decision or planning a course only to be overruled by someone else - especially when that someone has little idea of what is actually being discussed or is completely disconnected from the matter at hand. It turns assertiveness into a cauldron filled with resentment and anger as one's decision is unable to be acted upon - instead, one has to follow the dictates of someone that may have other knowledge (but never shares it) or is completely disconnected but feels the need to be "in control".
The solution? Simple yet difficult. If one does best in circumstances where one can act assertively, be in those situations. If the situation you are in does not allow you to do that, change your situation.
As I said, simple yet difficult. But is the difficulty really more than that which I currently endure: the crushing weight of being unable to make decisions (but having to execute everyone else's) and yet being expected to "take the initiative"?
If I can be assertive - and if I need to be assertive to move forward in my own life - then I simply need to accept that, ultimately, I need to put myself in those sorts of situations. My ability to grow may very well depend on it.
Assertive: Disposed to or characterized by bold or confident statements and behavior
It has shown itself in a plethora of small ways: deciding to sell the car - and then deciding to ask twice what I was going to, and getting it. Making the decision I was going to go to the Highland Games - and going. Making decisions about what will be prioritized at work instead of patiently waiting for others to decide. Deciding what and when will be used for a gardening area.
All good. All empowering.
But we discovered a second thing as well: that assertiveness practiced in an atmosphere of hierarchy is counterproductive.
There is nothing more discouraging than making a decision or planning a course only to be overruled by someone else - especially when that someone has little idea of what is actually being discussed or is completely disconnected from the matter at hand. It turns assertiveness into a cauldron filled with resentment and anger as one's decision is unable to be acted upon - instead, one has to follow the dictates of someone that may have other knowledge (but never shares it) or is completely disconnected but feels the need to be "in control".
The solution? Simple yet difficult. If one does best in circumstances where one can act assertively, be in those situations. If the situation you are in does not allow you to do that, change your situation.
As I said, simple yet difficult. But is the difficulty really more than that which I currently endure: the crushing weight of being unable to make decisions (but having to execute everyone else's) and yet being expected to "take the initiative"?
If I can be assertive - and if I need to be assertive to move forward in my own life - then I simply need to accept that, ultimately, I need to put myself in those sorts of situations. My ability to grow may very well depend on it.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Yay Bogha Frois!
So Bogha Frois, one of the greatest voices of sanity and encouragement in my life, is launching her jewelry business on etsy. She is a very talented artist and I am sure that someone in your life would benefit greatly by purchasing something from her store. You should go there right now:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/vesnasspringmix
No. Seriously. Go look right now.
http://www.etsy.com/shop/vesnasspringmix
No. Seriously. Go look right now.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Assets
Part of the the depression I sure I am feel about my current position is simply the fact that I feel like there is no "out" here. No matter what plans I try to come up with, they also circle back to the fact that it feels like I have no time to do anything.
Bogha Frois has been encouraging me for some time now to do one thing a day to get started. There are days where this seems impossible but every day she keeps encouraging me: one thing. Do one thing.
So I decided to make a list of my assets.
The list started simply enough: in digging through a desk drawer I found a headpiece for the computer that was still in the bag - the sort you can use for online calls or learning. Internet, of course. My laptop.
But as I continued I found the list expanding: hand tools. Gardening Tools. Library of books on specific subjects. Garden area. A small pad in my back yard one could put an open outbuilding on. A harp. Bokutos. Cheese making equipment. Before I realized it, I had constructed a list - not so much of things that were just around, but things that had the potential to be used for something.
My intention is to expand this list to other areas: skills and abilities and expertise. From here, my hope is that I can use this to begin to generate ideas for some sort of alternate plan.
Is it likely that my hand tools or even my small pad will help me generate income? Not necessarily. But what I did find is that it generated a great deal of thought about how I could use these items.
And figuring how one can use something is the first step in one learning to use something.
Bogha Frois has been encouraging me for some time now to do one thing a day to get started. There are days where this seems impossible but every day she keeps encouraging me: one thing. Do one thing.
So I decided to make a list of my assets.
The list started simply enough: in digging through a desk drawer I found a headpiece for the computer that was still in the bag - the sort you can use for online calls or learning. Internet, of course. My laptop.
But as I continued I found the list expanding: hand tools. Gardening Tools. Library of books on specific subjects. Garden area. A small pad in my back yard one could put an open outbuilding on. A harp. Bokutos. Cheese making equipment. Before I realized it, I had constructed a list - not so much of things that were just around, but things that had the potential to be used for something.
My intention is to expand this list to other areas: skills and abilities and expertise. From here, my hope is that I can use this to begin to generate ideas for some sort of alternate plan.
Is it likely that my hand tools or even my small pad will help me generate income? Not necessarily. But what I did find is that it generated a great deal of thought about how I could use these items.
And figuring how one can use something is the first step in one learning to use something.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Cog
There is nothing more dispiriting than being reminded that you are a cog in a machine.
Such a reminder came crashing down on me yesterday as I went to my day. Being 25% reduced in effective labor status (with no real end in sight) means that work has rapidly begun piling up and suddenly the concept of "working manager" becomes all too clear: what to do first (five things, of course) and what to let slip. It all has to be done, of course - nobody particular cares how or where it is done or truly how much more there is to do than what is there - but that is not their problem, of course. It is yours. You are the cog that makes it happen.
Then, of course, one gets smacked with the politics of office. No matter how carefully I have attempted to cultivate changes in how reporting structures work I continue to discover that mine remains the same. My job, in my reporting structure, is essentially to be responsible for all aspects of what my department is while being carefully denied the title and recognition of actually being responsible for it all - in other words, "Set everything up, make sure you come by to bow at the altar of Senior Management to bask in the warm glow of their ideas, and then go off and do the work. And oh - please be sure that you credit the Great Manager with all that has gone well and direct all credit our way. If you fail, of course, you are own your own."
I have diligently worked to try to find to do what was asked, to make things better, to get over that hump of doing all but not being the person recognized for it. Instead, I find that although so many people are sympathetic to the problem, no-one really wants to do anything. The cost of challenging the status quo - the thing that employees are so often enjoined to do to move companies forward - does not pan out when you reach a higher playing field.
And so I find myself exactly where I have told recruiters two years ago, three years ago that I would be: doing the same thing again and again with little chance for advancement or growth - or even a change in how thing work. Because ultimate the concern is simply that the work gets done - and the work, theoretically, could be done by anyone.
As long as they understand that they are simply a cog.
Such a reminder came crashing down on me yesterday as I went to my day. Being 25% reduced in effective labor status (with no real end in sight) means that work has rapidly begun piling up and suddenly the concept of "working manager" becomes all too clear: what to do first (five things, of course) and what to let slip. It all has to be done, of course - nobody particular cares how or where it is done or truly how much more there is to do than what is there - but that is not their problem, of course. It is yours. You are the cog that makes it happen.
Then, of course, one gets smacked with the politics of office. No matter how carefully I have attempted to cultivate changes in how reporting structures work I continue to discover that mine remains the same. My job, in my reporting structure, is essentially to be responsible for all aspects of what my department is while being carefully denied the title and recognition of actually being responsible for it all - in other words, "Set everything up, make sure you come by to bow at the altar of Senior Management to bask in the warm glow of their ideas, and then go off and do the work. And oh - please be sure that you credit the Great Manager with all that has gone well and direct all credit our way. If you fail, of course, you are own your own."
I have diligently worked to try to find to do what was asked, to make things better, to get over that hump of doing all but not being the person recognized for it. Instead, I find that although so many people are sympathetic to the problem, no-one really wants to do anything. The cost of challenging the status quo - the thing that employees are so often enjoined to do to move companies forward - does not pan out when you reach a higher playing field.
And so I find myself exactly where I have told recruiters two years ago, three years ago that I would be: doing the same thing again and again with little chance for advancement or growth - or even a change in how thing work. Because ultimate the concern is simply that the work gets done - and the work, theoretically, could be done by anyone.
As long as they understand that they are simply a cog.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Best Effort
"If (you) wait for a job to be good enough to deserve (your) best shot, it's unlikely (you'll) ever have that job." - Seth Godin, Linchpin
I struggle with this.
I struggle with this because so many of jobs - this one included - seem precisely opposite of this. The world so often seems opposite of this. The sense that no matter what I do my effort does not matter - in fact, it is eaten up and dispersed into a nether region of space. I hear the tramp of "responsibility" and "authority" tramp down the halls with no relation to any sort of goal or reward.
What would my best shot look like? That is the part that both concerns me and makes me wonder. What would unbridled effort at being the best at my job truly look like? And would it be recognized as such? Or would it just fade into the background noise of what is expected from everyone, leaving me that much farther behind the curve?
Or is my focus all wrong?
Perhaps it is what it does to us that is the real point of the exercise. Ultimately the job has multiple factors which we cannot control: financing, management, failed projects, acquisitions, layoffs. It is what we become in spite of these things that is the true benefit of giving our best effort. If I think about it, I am forced to admit that I have seldom carried a job out with me. What I have carried out is myself and everything I did and became during that time.
If self development is the goal and the path to getting to job we ultimately want, why are we not giving more of our best effort - not for the job, but for ourselves?
I struggle with this.
I struggle with this because so many of jobs - this one included - seem precisely opposite of this. The world so often seems opposite of this. The sense that no matter what I do my effort does not matter - in fact, it is eaten up and dispersed into a nether region of space. I hear the tramp of "responsibility" and "authority" tramp down the halls with no relation to any sort of goal or reward.
What would my best shot look like? That is the part that both concerns me and makes me wonder. What would unbridled effort at being the best at my job truly look like? And would it be recognized as such? Or would it just fade into the background noise of what is expected from everyone, leaving me that much farther behind the curve?
Or is my focus all wrong?
Perhaps it is what it does to us that is the real point of the exercise. Ultimately the job has multiple factors which we cannot control: financing, management, failed projects, acquisitions, layoffs. It is what we become in spite of these things that is the true benefit of giving our best effort. If I think about it, I am forced to admit that I have seldom carried a job out with me. What I have carried out is myself and everything I did and became during that time.
If self development is the goal and the path to getting to job we ultimately want, why are we not giving more of our best effort - not for the job, but for ourselves?
Monday, September 23, 2013
The Bitters
I post quotes.
I have been doing it for a number of years, an outgrowth of one of the authors (Brian Tracy) that I read: "Find a useful quote. Send it to fifty people." And so, over the years, I have been collecting quotes from everywhere: literature, audio books, business books, the internet itself. Over time my planners have filled up in the back - and rolled to the front - with the quotes I have gotten.
Thanks to the wonder of Facebook and Twitter, I have the mechanism for the outreach of quotes: every day Monday through Friday I post one or two. I post one around general life or achievement and one that tends to be around some aspect of business. The pleasure comes from seeing people "like" them - an indication that they have found something significant quote. It is a small way for me to feel like I am contributing to the life and achievements of others.
Except.
Some time ago - maybe a year? - I posted a quote (I do not recall what one now) to which someone posted a snarky answer. It surprised me a bit, both because of who did it and the fact that they did it publicly. It depressed me because I always want to encourage, not upset - so much so that I stopped posting them for a while. Time passed of course, and I started posting them again - with the same sort of general "likes" in a day.
Then it happened again.
It rocked me back on my heels again - not just because of who did it but that they did it publicly. I fought the initial response of deleting the post - after all, I think that a third party reading it will find it as jarring as I did and I suppose that is not a bad thing - but I had to circle back and review what I was doing again.
Fortunately this morning I was reading Linchpin by Seth Godin and came across the following quote:
"You can spend your time on stage pleasing the heckler in back, or you can devote it to the audience that came to hear you perform".
Of course. I can pay attention to the 1% that seem intent on voicing their opinion (if you do not agree with somebody, just do not comment or even ignore them), or I can focus on the 99% that seem to be garnering some value out of my daily activity. Where is the correct focus?
Some people just seem to have a case of the bitters. The trick is not to let them dominate your life or ruin your attempts to better it.
I have been doing it for a number of years, an outgrowth of one of the authors (Brian Tracy) that I read: "Find a useful quote. Send it to fifty people." And so, over the years, I have been collecting quotes from everywhere: literature, audio books, business books, the internet itself. Over time my planners have filled up in the back - and rolled to the front - with the quotes I have gotten.
Thanks to the wonder of Facebook and Twitter, I have the mechanism for the outreach of quotes: every day Monday through Friday I post one or two. I post one around general life or achievement and one that tends to be around some aspect of business. The pleasure comes from seeing people "like" them - an indication that they have found something significant quote. It is a small way for me to feel like I am contributing to the life and achievements of others.
Except.
Some time ago - maybe a year? - I posted a quote (I do not recall what one now) to which someone posted a snarky answer. It surprised me a bit, both because of who did it and the fact that they did it publicly. It depressed me because I always want to encourage, not upset - so much so that I stopped posting them for a while. Time passed of course, and I started posting them again - with the same sort of general "likes" in a day.
Then it happened again.
It rocked me back on my heels again - not just because of who did it but that they did it publicly. I fought the initial response of deleting the post - after all, I think that a third party reading it will find it as jarring as I did and I suppose that is not a bad thing - but I had to circle back and review what I was doing again.
Fortunately this morning I was reading Linchpin by Seth Godin and came across the following quote:
"You can spend your time on stage pleasing the heckler in back, or you can devote it to the audience that came to hear you perform".
Of course. I can pay attention to the 1% that seem intent on voicing their opinion (if you do not agree with somebody, just do not comment or even ignore them), or I can focus on the 99% that seem to be garnering some value out of my daily activity. Where is the correct focus?
Some people just seem to have a case of the bitters. The trick is not to let them dominate your life or ruin your attempts to better it.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Stuck
I suppose that it is silly to think
that I trapped in one place,
that all forward motion has ceased.
But that is how I feel.
Stuck.
The world seems to rush on around me:
People moving forward, lives moving forward -
a blur of motion that goes on the periphery
while I simply stand.
Stuck.
I keep telling myself that things will change,
that the motion is invisible now,
but that invisible
is not the same as not moving
at all.
Stuck.
Or am I fooling myself,
thinking that the point of life is moving forward,
when speeding through life means simply
speeding by life?
Stuck.
that I trapped in one place,
that all forward motion has ceased.
But that is how I feel.
Stuck.
The world seems to rush on around me:
People moving forward, lives moving forward -
a blur of motion that goes on the periphery
while I simply stand.
Stuck.
I keep telling myself that things will change,
that the motion is invisible now,
but that invisible
is not the same as not moving
at all.
Stuck.
Or am I fooling myself,
thinking that the point of life is moving forward,
when speeding through life means simply
speeding by life?
Stuck.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Stepping Out
I find that I am stepping out more and more at work, taking charge, perhaps acting almost leader-like.
It is a little terrifying. I do not know that I am doing everything correctly. Sometimes it feels like I am simply adding more work to my life.
But at the same time it is invigorating. It is an interesting feeling when one feels that one has some sense that one is charting one's own course rather than simply walking down a path that others set before you.
One significant change that I have found is that I find myself asking for permission a great deal less. If I understand what needs to be achieved, I will make a plan and go do it. What I am no longer doing - at least not in the formal way - is going and asking for permission prior to asking. I will consult, I will seek opinions - but I will not seek permission. I will act.
I am not quite sure where all of this ends. There is only a finite range to one's leadership at any one company of course; at some point the ability to lead becomes constrained by size and circumstances.
But that is it may be. Right know I am doing - and learning.
Leadership may be a skill to be learned after all. Who knew.
It is a little terrifying. I do not know that I am doing everything correctly. Sometimes it feels like I am simply adding more work to my life.
But at the same time it is invigorating. It is an interesting feeling when one feels that one has some sense that one is charting one's own course rather than simply walking down a path that others set before you.
One significant change that I have found is that I find myself asking for permission a great deal less. If I understand what needs to be achieved, I will make a plan and go do it. What I am no longer doing - at least not in the formal way - is going and asking for permission prior to asking. I will consult, I will seek opinions - but I will not seek permission. I will act.
I am not quite sure where all of this ends. There is only a finite range to one's leadership at any one company of course; at some point the ability to lead becomes constrained by size and circumstances.
But that is it may be. Right know I am doing - and learning.
Leadership may be a skill to be learned after all. Who knew.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Paths
Will we ever see the paths not taken?
Is there ever a view
into other universes,
places, or times:
the great forks in the road of one's life
or even the small random chances
of fate?
What of the might have beens:
the other major,
the other job,
the other person.
the threads of our lives we put aside
to weave the ones that we know now?
Is eternity a singular stream,
or multiple paths,
running to an ocean?
Can we ever meet our other selves?
Would we recognize them if we did?
Or would we find them far different than we are now,
with no more than a surface similarity?
Or is all black beyond
this one path we choose,
leaving darkened pathways behind
never to be crossed again?
Is there ever a view
into other universes,
places, or times:
the great forks in the road of one's life
or even the small random chances
of fate?
What of the might have beens:
the other major,
the other job,
the other person.
the threads of our lives we put aside
to weave the ones that we know now?
Is eternity a singular stream,
or multiple paths,
running to an ocean?
Can we ever meet our other selves?
Would we recognize them if we did?
Or would we find them far different than we are now,
with no more than a surface similarity?
Or is all black beyond
this one path we choose,
leaving darkened pathways behind
never to be crossed again?
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Getting Rid Of, Simplifying
This process of having children which seem to be ever more involved and work which seems to want an ever increasing amount of my time has been biting deeper and deeper into what I consider my "personal time". That list of things that I always want to do has become more and more compressed until it almost seems like a black hole, not allowing even light to escape.
I suppose on one hand this is a good thing, because it enables one to (by default) focus on the few things that one really wants to do (since that is all the time there is); on the other, it is frustrating because even as one tries to cut down to the essentials, time continues to run away and even those things seem beyond reach.
Essentials. I have been thinking about those a great deal lately, propelled by the Steve Jobs biography in two areas. On the one hand, his continued effort to simplify, eliminate and get down to the core purpose of an item; on the other, the very real sense of mortality that hangs over all of us: it is really not so very far from my age that he himself passed away.
Moving helps, of course. The fact that our space arrangement has changed, that we have essentially "settled" on a location to be in (given interest rates, perhaps for quite a while), means that by default we are having to question everything we have: do we need this. Is this essential to what we do as a family? I am having to apply it to my own stuff as well: do I need this? Do I use this? Does this at all fall into the area of essentials that I have identified in my life? If not, I am starting to attempt (sometimes a difficult thing for me) to move it out of my life.
But I am trying to apply this to my own personal, inner life as well. The essentials: what is Toirdhealbheach Beucail about? Who am I as a person? What I am trying do? What is my core purpose and where can I simplify or eliminate elements of my own life - of me - to be more fully true to my purpose?
It is not something I have mastered by any stretch of the imagination - in fact, merely trying to put it into words solidifies my thoughts that this is something I have only unconsciously been working towards and it needs to be more conscious.
But needed. Time continues to compress and run away from me. It would a pity to arrive at that time when horizons begin to expand - or contract completely - and discover that my purpose continues to be buried beneath things real and psychic.
I suppose on one hand this is a good thing, because it enables one to (by default) focus on the few things that one really wants to do (since that is all the time there is); on the other, it is frustrating because even as one tries to cut down to the essentials, time continues to run away and even those things seem beyond reach.
Essentials. I have been thinking about those a great deal lately, propelled by the Steve Jobs biography in two areas. On the one hand, his continued effort to simplify, eliminate and get down to the core purpose of an item; on the other, the very real sense of mortality that hangs over all of us: it is really not so very far from my age that he himself passed away.
Moving helps, of course. The fact that our space arrangement has changed, that we have essentially "settled" on a location to be in (given interest rates, perhaps for quite a while), means that by default we are having to question everything we have: do we need this. Is this essential to what we do as a family? I am having to apply it to my own stuff as well: do I need this? Do I use this? Does this at all fall into the area of essentials that I have identified in my life? If not, I am starting to attempt (sometimes a difficult thing for me) to move it out of my life.
But I am trying to apply this to my own personal, inner life as well. The essentials: what is Toirdhealbheach Beucail about? Who am I as a person? What I am trying do? What is my core purpose and where can I simplify or eliminate elements of my own life - of me - to be more fully true to my purpose?
It is not something I have mastered by any stretch of the imagination - in fact, merely trying to put it into words solidifies my thoughts that this is something I have only unconsciously been working towards and it needs to be more conscious.
But needed. Time continues to compress and run away from me. It would a pity to arrive at that time when horizons begin to expand - or contract completely - and discover that my purpose continues to be buried beneath things real and psychic.
Monday, September 16, 2013
"I Wonder If"
Something happened to me on the way to my life: I found out I could push back.
It was subtle enough. I was listing a few things on Craigslist for sale. I looked at the price I had posted on it last time, said "I wonder if", and hiked the price 20%. It sold. I did the same thing with the beloved Protege that we are selling. Even with its age and some issues I looked at what I originally was going post, said "I wonder if", and doubled the price. I received three interested offers; I am sure one of these will buy.
This is atypical behavior for me - usually I approaching things from the point of view of what I think someone is likely to pay - based not on any outside information but rather my own internal voice telling me "It's not that good - and after all, you don't want to be that confrontational." But this time I took a chance - a small one to be sure, and one which was not unrecoverable from if it failed. But still a chance.
And it worked. I cannot tell you the level of confidence I felt after I got those e-mails and had that cash in hand. Suddenly I started looking around thinking "What else can I post and how much can I get?"
I dwell in reality of course - real estate taught me that something is only worth what someone else is willing to pay. But the connection I never made before it is always not best to determine in your own mind what someone else is willing to pay.
But in the larger scope of things, what a subtle change. I moved from a position of helplessness and dependence - "What will they give me? What if they don't like me if I ask too much?" - to a position of strength - "Let me ask. There is no harm in asking."
"I wonder if". What a powerful statement.
What a statement to apply to the rest of my life.
It was subtle enough. I was listing a few things on Craigslist for sale. I looked at the price I had posted on it last time, said "I wonder if", and hiked the price 20%. It sold. I did the same thing with the beloved Protege that we are selling. Even with its age and some issues I looked at what I originally was going post, said "I wonder if", and doubled the price. I received three interested offers; I am sure one of these will buy.
This is atypical behavior for me - usually I approaching things from the point of view of what I think someone is likely to pay - based not on any outside information but rather my own internal voice telling me "It's not that good - and after all, you don't want to be that confrontational." But this time I took a chance - a small one to be sure, and one which was not unrecoverable from if it failed. But still a chance.
And it worked. I cannot tell you the level of confidence I felt after I got those e-mails and had that cash in hand. Suddenly I started looking around thinking "What else can I post and how much can I get?"
I dwell in reality of course - real estate taught me that something is only worth what someone else is willing to pay. But the connection I never made before it is always not best to determine in your own mind what someone else is willing to pay.
But in the larger scope of things, what a subtle change. I moved from a position of helplessness and dependence - "What will they give me? What if they don't like me if I ask too much?" - to a position of strength - "Let me ask. There is no harm in asking."
"I wonder if". What a powerful statement.
What a statement to apply to the rest of my life.
Friday, September 13, 2013
An Unknown Crossing
It is Friday night and I am writing.
I know this is not a typical thing for me. But I find myself deeply troubled this evening. An event happened at work which has left me feeling....odd: a coworker left.
Not a planned leaving anyone was aware of. Not a leaving I directly expected. Not a leaving that was mentioned 30 minutes before they left.
An e-mail. And then they were gone.
It troubles me because in my heart of hearts it feels like I was on the wrong side of this equation: one of them. The Bosses. The Man. The Power. The People You Do Not Tell What Is Really Going On.
This bothers me. It bothers me deeply, actually. I hate being left out of the loop - especially when I like to think of myself of someone that is in touch with the pulse of what is going on from day to day: the pulse, the ebb and flow of the environment. Instead, I find myself on the outside looking in: confused, wondering what I could have done better or differently - maybe not avert the actual leaving but to at least be in a position to wish a cheery "Good Luck".
Have I bought into the system that much? Am I trying to "get ahead" in a system or in a way that leaves me isolated from what I was, or what I once hoped to be?
This person was not a silly person - they were intelligent, talented, very capable, fun humorous - exactly the sort of coworker one could hope for. It is always a matter of great concern when such a person leaves.
The second thing - a lesser issue to be sure - is simply the sense of yet another person going. I have seen so many people leave over the last 4 years - many good friends, good people, moving on to better things.
We will go in on Monday. Some sort of announcement will be made of course: the incident will be downplayed, someone else will be brought in, and life will go on. In some fashion the position will be filled - even if the hole in our little dysfunctional family will not.
But it will still leave me with a question as I get up and walk out of the room: what have I become, or what am I perceived as, that I seem to have crossed over a divide I never knew I traveled?
I know this is not a typical thing for me. But I find myself deeply troubled this evening. An event happened at work which has left me feeling....odd: a coworker left.
Not a planned leaving anyone was aware of. Not a leaving I directly expected. Not a leaving that was mentioned 30 minutes before they left.
An e-mail. And then they were gone.
It troubles me because in my heart of hearts it feels like I was on the wrong side of this equation: one of them. The Bosses. The Man. The Power. The People You Do Not Tell What Is Really Going On.
This bothers me. It bothers me deeply, actually. I hate being left out of the loop - especially when I like to think of myself of someone that is in touch with the pulse of what is going on from day to day: the pulse, the ebb and flow of the environment. Instead, I find myself on the outside looking in: confused, wondering what I could have done better or differently - maybe not avert the actual leaving but to at least be in a position to wish a cheery "Good Luck".
Have I bought into the system that much? Am I trying to "get ahead" in a system or in a way that leaves me isolated from what I was, or what I once hoped to be?
This person was not a silly person - they were intelligent, talented, very capable, fun humorous - exactly the sort of coworker one could hope for. It is always a matter of great concern when such a person leaves.
The second thing - a lesser issue to be sure - is simply the sense of yet another person going. I have seen so many people leave over the last 4 years - many good friends, good people, moving on to better things.
We will go in on Monday. Some sort of announcement will be made of course: the incident will be downplayed, someone else will be brought in, and life will go on. In some fashion the position will be filled - even if the hole in our little dysfunctional family will not.
But it will still leave me with a question as I get up and walk out of the room: what have I become, or what am I perceived as, that I seem to have crossed over a divide I never knew I traveled?
Carla J. Clay Studios
So my friend Carla, who is an incredibly talented artist, has a website: www.carlajclay.com.
You should really click through and go to her website. Maybe even buy something at her store.
What? You are still here? Go look!
You should really click through and go to her website. Maybe even buy something at her store.
What? You are still here? Go look!
Thursday, September 12, 2013
A Hint of Sadness
One of the habits I have picked up over the years is following my old employers. Initially this probably started as a reaction to the fact I was curious how their stock was doing; over time it has turned into an exercise about how the companies are faring in the industry.
Yesterday I took a stop by the company who is the successor to the company that shut down in 2009, the company that led us to new home. The company itself has passed on but the intellectual property - and many of the people - have coalesced at a new company. They seem to have done quite well for themselves, having moved forward in the last three years and broadened their programs to give them breadth. On a whim, I also went to Linked In to see who I knew working there. All of a sudden a name popped up with a title: "Director, X".
It was my old department.
I immediately clicked through to their Linked In profile. It turns out we had actually met once at a job fair long ago. Our paths had dodged around each other as well: they had worked at a company we received product from, they came to the company I left to start the Firm.
I was overwhelmed with despair. That was my position.
Or that should have been my position. I interviewed for it in 2010, when we were back in Old Home. On a lark, I went in. I knew the people. I knew the product. I knew their systems - good heavens, I helped to write them. But I was in New Home at the time, and would have needed moving assistance to come back. They were a small company and so (not unreasonably) they opted to go with a local consultant and then eventually a Director. The Director whose profile I saw.
I slumped in my chair a bit. This is the worst of all feelings - not that have had an opportunity and blown it, but that you were denied the opportunity in the first place and so never had the opportunity to blow it.
One can make the argument that it makes things seem even worse when such a think arises. I suppose that's true. But when one is never really happy in the first place it just seems to rub salt in the wound, especially when opportunity (or at least the hope of it) seems to have abandoned the shores of your life.
I will keep up with company, of course. They are doing really novel and important work in their field, the sort of thing that if it succeeds could be a game changer. But I will always be watching with a trace of sadness as I hopefully see them march from success to success - for they are marching forward, while I seem stuck in place.
Yesterday I took a stop by the company who is the successor to the company that shut down in 2009, the company that led us to new home. The company itself has passed on but the intellectual property - and many of the people - have coalesced at a new company. They seem to have done quite well for themselves, having moved forward in the last three years and broadened their programs to give them breadth. On a whim, I also went to Linked In to see who I knew working there. All of a sudden a name popped up with a title: "Director, X".
It was my old department.
I immediately clicked through to their Linked In profile. It turns out we had actually met once at a job fair long ago. Our paths had dodged around each other as well: they had worked at a company we received product from, they came to the company I left to start the Firm.
I was overwhelmed with despair. That was my position.
Or that should have been my position. I interviewed for it in 2010, when we were back in Old Home. On a lark, I went in. I knew the people. I knew the product. I knew their systems - good heavens, I helped to write them. But I was in New Home at the time, and would have needed moving assistance to come back. They were a small company and so (not unreasonably) they opted to go with a local consultant and then eventually a Director. The Director whose profile I saw.
I slumped in my chair a bit. This is the worst of all feelings - not that have had an opportunity and blown it, but that you were denied the opportunity in the first place and so never had the opportunity to blow it.
One can make the argument that it makes things seem even worse when such a think arises. I suppose that's true. But when one is never really happy in the first place it just seems to rub salt in the wound, especially when opportunity (or at least the hope of it) seems to have abandoned the shores of your life.
I will keep up with company, of course. They are doing really novel and important work in their field, the sort of thing that if it succeeds could be a game changer. But I will always be watching with a trace of sadness as I hopefully see them march from success to success - for they are marching forward, while I seem stuck in place.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Shipping
“Artists Ship.” – Steve Jobs
One of the interesting features of Steve Jobs that I find
interesting – and reinforced by my recent reading of Seth Godin – is the phrase
“Artists ship”. For Jobs this meant that
it meant that it was not enough to be merely creative or to seek to express
one’s self creatively. The ultimate
outcome of the art should be to ship: to
complete the project or item and move it on into the world at large. The artist that did not ship was, to Jobs,
the same as the artist that did not complete anything at all.
This statement has challenged me as I have been languishing
on the completion of the text that I completed last November. I wish I could tell you why. There seems to be a certain reluctance on my
part to push the work to completion.
I wish I could understand what the issue was. Part of me says that it is the self critic
inside of me which keeps me from moving forward. Part of me says it was the feedback that I received
from the Createspace competition: that
my writing was such that it was hard to engage the characters. And then I am consumed with the sense what I
do is simply not worthy of moving to the publishing state.
Which is silly.
True, my writing is not the height of Ernest Hemingway. Arguably it has got better. And non-engaging characters? I have to rein myself in for a minute: it was not a novel I was writing (which was
part of the competition) but rather a fable – so of course character development
is different. What is stopping me? The reluctance that if I ship I will not make
the million dollar bestseller? The fact
is that I have not done so to date, but that has not prevented me from
publishing before.
To have written, edited and not published is the same as not
having written. The question I should be
asking myself is “Did I do my best?” If
I did, I can expect no better of myself – even as I this is the only thing I
ask of all others.
To ship is to finish.
To ship is to put something to bed – and to be able (intellectually and
emotionally) to move on to the next thing.
Could it be that the reluctance I find in myself to move to the next
project is not as much a lack of creativity and ideas as it is my mind telling
to finish before I move on?
Artists ship. If I
claim this title as a writer and author, I must do the same.
Monday, September 09, 2013
The Space Beside The Bed
As part of our “new” bedroom, The Ravishing Mrs. TB procured
a pair of new bedside tables for use.
They are the same wood as the dresser and chest of drawers that we
procured at IKEA. Matched with a new
beside lamp for each of us, it represents the first upgrade in bedside
accouterments since 1993 and our pressed fiberboard screw-in table leg
tables.
So in the spirit of making a clean start as part of our new
home, I am trying not only to reorganize but to simplify.
I am taking some of my cues based on the biography of Steve
Jobs I am currently listening to. Mr.
Jobs, who had a great love (some could call it obsession) with design,
described how he and his wife spent hours in the evening discussing the design
and function of a washer and dryer. I
have not gone quite that far in my quest for reorganization, but I am trying to
ensure that at least part of what I am doing has the function and appearance in
mind.
Minimalist. That is
what I am striving for. If I have it I
should either use it or derive pleasure from it. The having of things which neither are
neither useful not provide pleasure is something I am trying to move away from.
The largest item on my table, which has been there for many
years, is a basket that I keep various things in. Moving towards the goal of keeping things as
simple and minimalist as possible, I decided to remove the basket from the
table leaving only my clock, my lamp and a drink coaster.
But what to store in the drawer. It is obviously less spacious than the
basket. So came the consideration of what I keep in the basket.
Two highlighters and four pens? I need only one of each. Cards?
They have sat for a year without examination; time to locate them to
where I keep such things. A flashlight? There is a drawer, that will store the
bookmarks as well. My journal? Now sitting atop a neat stack of books on the
lower shelf.
The result? A simple
nightstand next to my bed with a minimum on it – and a minimum in it.
I will be honest. It
is simple. It is clean. It is organized.
I love it.
Friday, September 06, 2013
Stumped
I find myself in a reluctant position to continue with my
book editing.
Is this because of my own expectations? Have I convinced myself that the important part is not so much me expressing myself in hopes of somehow impacting someone else as it is me wanting fame and fortune showered upon me because, for once in my life, I finally showed up with 100% effort?
The finishing is the thing. Anything I realize from it is merely frosting on the cake of accomplishment.
The puzzles me a bit.
What I would perceive as the “hard” part of the book, the creation, is
complete. What remains is the (to me)
tedious task of editing and re-editing, of listening to the flow of the
language, and then the process of publishing.
If I have completed the “hard” part, why then do I find myself so
reluctant to continue on?
It is actually sort of remarkable. I have become almost pathological about
working on it, finding reasons that I have other things to do, conveniently not
having the blocks of time necessary to do it.
I have almost reached the point where the thought of working on another
book has moved from my mind.
Why is this? I love
to write. I love the exercise of put
electrons to paper and developing my thoughts.
I was excited to see myself in print and even more excited when I
actually made some money on the books.
But now, nothing.
Is it something more profound? Is it the initial thrill of dream fulfilled
meeting the reality of the world as it is and realizing that the dream, while
good, has fulfilled its purpose: it
brought me to one finish line, but it was hardly the one I expected to find?
The act of writing and publishing was one of the hardest of
my life in years. Why? Because it meant bringing something to
completion, to the point of completion that it was actually ready to be
done. Having done it, I found it easy to
do again. But having done it again, I
found that the return was not the same the next time out.
Is this because of my own expectations? Have I convinced myself that the important part is not so much me expressing myself in hopes of somehow impacting someone else as it is me wanting fame and fortune showered upon me because, for once in my life, I finally showed up with 100% effort?
The reality is that the third book will most likely not
bring me that return. But that is no
reason not to complete it. I initially
started writing (I think) as an output of a soul that was seeking to find a way
to influence others, to help someone, to make a difference. Those goals have not changed – but neither
has the equally important goal of learning to finish what one starts.
The finishing is the thing. Anything I realize from it is merely frosting on the cake of accomplishment.
Done then. I will push on to the finish line – because only
by finishing do you get the bragging rights.
All else is merely talk by those who simply could not push through.
Thursday, September 05, 2013
Wednesday, September 04, 2013
Retaking the Initiative
So the move is completed.
The house is somewhat unpacked, at least unpacked to the point that we
can move around and begin to reconsider the placement of everything we have –
and why we have it.
The reality of our retooling is much less exciting.
Part of the outcome of the move is that everything we have
is now under one roof – ours. No more
storage of items in the houses of others or in small outbuilding. Everything we own now exists within the four
rectangular walls that we call home.
Another outcome of the move has been the “downsizing” (I use
the term loosely) in the size of our
house – certainly in square footage but more relevantly in the number of
rooms and closets that we have. Suddenly
we have less places to organize and keep all of the items that we own, that we
have dragged with ourselves from place to place convincing ourselves that these
are critical things we have to keep.
The move has allowed us to retake the initiative of remaking
and retooling our lives.
Retooling. That
sounds like such a big word, does it not?
A sort of massive makeover involving the destruction of large pieces of
equipment, the tearing down of walls and rebuilding of even larger walls, and
the appropriation of even more complex pieces of equipment. The result sounds like it should be the
outcome of an industrial project, with gleaming steel and robotics ready for
action.
The reality of our retooling is much less exciting.
Our retooling has much more to do with a reconsideration of
all that we have brought with us – looking at it, considering it, and then
determining if it is something which has value in our lives as we move forward.
We have accumulated a great amount of the stuff over the
years – just this week we finally sold the last LPs what we had (the actual
player is two years gone at this point).
Some of it was sentimental, some of it was what I thought would matter
(Three years of Shepherd’s Conferences notes: Gone. What did I think I would do with them?), some
of it is for projects that have no meaning in my life right now. It is a propitious time to reconsider what it
is and why we still need it.
We will still have plenty of items to keep of course – my
book collection (the bane of my moving experience) still lacks the bookshelves
for permanent display – and the handmade items of Na Clann are safely tucked away.
Even after the consideration and removal, we will still have plenty of
“stuff” to fill our lives.
But hopefully after this retooling, we will have “stuff”
that has actual purpose and meaning to where we currently are in our lives, what
we hope do, and ultimately what we hope to create as an outcome of our lives.
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
An Unexpected Interlude
You will have noticed that I have not posted in a while.
What is up, you may have asked? Did a vacation suddenly loom that was unexpected? Did a horrible tragedy occur that has kept him from writing? Or has he merely become a bit lazy?
What is up, you may have asked? Did a vacation suddenly loom that was unexpected? Did a horrible tragedy occur that has kept him from writing? Or has he merely become a bit lazy?
None of the above, I am afraid. I – and we – are victims of a combination of
corporate systems and bad customer service.
With the advent of our move we had a simple request: keep our current number, the one we have had
for four years. What has transpired is a
farce in which over the course of three weeks we have had three phone numbers,
two rounds of internet access, reaching to the point that we currently have no
phone number and no internet access. We
are “assured” that we can get access – and possibly phone at this point – on
September 10th, almost one month after we moved.
This is a failure of epic proportions.
By our count, the Ravishing Mrs. TB has spent approximately
10 hours on the phone over the last two weeks trying to get the situation
worked out. We have spoken to at least 7
different individuals – all nice in their own way and trying to be helpful, but
unable to actually help us resolve our problems. A victim of corporate processes, we are
informed that “It takes a week to get anything done.”
What a shame for them.
It is inconvenient for us of course – but they have pushed
us into action as a less inconveniencing incident might not of. For the first time we are seriously looking
at “Do we need a home phone? Can we get
by on cells alone? And what other
options do we have for internet?” And
now we are motivated enough to be willing to do something – motivated to the
point that options which had previous only been interesting discussion items
are now active considerations.
The price of inaction is sometimes not just opportunity
lost. It can sometimes be the very
undercutting of your business model – or your life.
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