Birthday List

Nearly a month ago, I noted that I needed a job before my birthday. Well (shuffle, shuffle) . . . ummmm . . . ahhhh . . . errr. Yeaaaaahhhhh.

In a week, it's. My. BIRTHDAY.

I've been joking around about this being the one week countdown to my midlife crisis (yes, yes, I know most people wait until their 40's to do this, but I figure a running start is warranted. I also think, as long as I'm freaking out, I should multi-task my anxiety and just package this in. And, a good friend pointed out to me today that Dante had his mid-life crisis at 35, so, there's precedent!) but I'll admit this is dfficult for me.

My birthday is also the anniversary of my becoming a Colorado resident, and, for anyone who has read this blog, you know that the story of how I came to live here isn't really a good one. I remember that first birthday here as a blur of unloading boxes and furniture after having been driving for close to a week (it feels like most of that week was spent in Nebraska. Ugh). Somewhere in there, there was a bad movie, and a broken promise. So, birthdays here in Colorado are always seem to come part and parcel with feeling a little tender and tentative.

And this year, my birthday also feels like it is bound up with other drama. My need to figure out my living situation. This arbitrary deadline I set for myself to get a job. The end of the month . . . yayyyyy, more bills due. And, well, 35 doesn't feel like a small number. I want to not have hang ups about that, and to be enlightened and to feel that age has made me better, but without a clear picture of where I'm headed, looking back and saying, "all of that got me here" doesn't work as well. Meh.

For many weeks, as this date approached, I had the ostrich reaction and my instinct was to stick my head in the sand and IGNORE. NEGLECT. And, if things got really bad, maybe uproot from the proverbial sand, RUN AWAY.

But the truth is, I will turn 35, and be unemployed, and wake up with these same unsettled questions whether or not I acknowledge this birthday. So, I'd better get on with it and acknowledge the impending arrival of my mid-life crisis. And as long as I'm acknowledging it, I should go ahead and celebrate. Sitting here, right at this moment, I'm not sure what there is to celebrate to be painfully honest. But I have always adored birthdays (yours, mine, birthdays are just great) so I'm trying to fall back on that.

Of course, what everyone has asked me is, What do you want for your birthday? I have some pretty phenomenal people in my life, both near and far. Some of them have settled this questions by telling me what they are doing to celebrate my day, and others have asked me. One of my smartest, funniest friends put it this way, "what do you want for your birthday aside from word peace and an awesome job?"

Actually, if those things could be gift wrapped, that would be just awesomesauce. Way to hit that nail on the head, RR!

I don't think Amazon has a category for those, so I've put some thought into what else I'd enjoy. My mom askes me to make two lists, each year. A Christmas list, and a Birthday list. I try really hard to make the first no longer than 10 items, and to ask for things that aren't things (Can you make lasagna? Can we go get pedicures?) and the later no longer than 5 things. This year, something about free-falling and not having my feet on any kind of solid ground means I feel free to ask for just EVERYTHING I want. Here goes:

• I would like to excise the parts of my head and heart that tell me, with searing repetition, that I have become "less than" in my weeks of unemployment.

• I want to be able to do the bound yoga poses without fear of losing my balance.
• I want someone to create head bands that don't slide off the back of my giant head

• I'd like for dresses that accommodate girls with GIRLS to be made more flattering.

• I want to put honey in my yogurt without the honey bottle getting all sticky.

• I want my friend to be released from prison and exonerated. I'm grateful that he still has a loving heart, and kindness, but I want him out sooner rather than later to keep it that way. 

• I want children to be wanted and planned. And loved beyond all belief. All of them. 

• I want all of my friends who love each other and are willing to risk everything to be allowed to get married and have those marriages be recognized by my government.
• I want for our country to stop thinking that separate but equal works. Because it never does.
• I want for the U.S. voters and leaders to remember that in a free society you need a reason to make something ILlegal, not a reason to make something legal. And, bee-tee-dub, "the bible" isn't a good thing to point to when it comes to our laws since we eat shrimp and don't sell our daughters.

• I want women to not feel so limited and judged that they treat life as a zero sum game, and learn, all too well, to tear each other down. 

• I want men to not feel so pigeon-holed and pressured that they feel competition and destructiveness are expected. Required even.
• I want a cure for cancer.
• I want to hear my dad read Brer Rabbit stories, with the killer accents and voices, one more time.
• I want more people to go to therapy prophylactically.
• I want more people to hold themselves accountable for their own issues, wounds, and baggage. I need people to be accountable for how their actions affect others.
• I need for us to realize how broken our education system is. How wrong it is that we will spend money to incarcerate, but not to educate. How forced into lock-step my teacher friends feel. How unhappy parents and students are. How wrong our curriculum is and how sticking with it is throwing good money after bad. And, why, oh why, do we think it is ok for us to require college in order to aim higher than Walmart in the job market, but then expect to pay them with no regard to the cost of that education . . .which keeps going up.
• I want people to be kind to each other. And if that's too much to ask, can we at least not be engaged in (and horrendously thrilled by)  being cruel to one another?
• I want things to stop being at this constant fever-pitch of black/white, right/wrong, good/evil where somehow we picket funerals, call women "sluts" on national broadcasts, and say that we wish certain groups of people would die out. (Can you believe it was a pastor who said this?! It actually made me physically ill.)
• I want a way to have all of my closest people at one dinner party - my Colorado people, my Florida, Maine, OK, Illinois, NY, Boston, and Jersey people. And my brother in New Haven for good measure. Then I want, as I once did with Heather, to come up with a curriculum so that people understand each other better, as David and Rob and I have, talked about how to actually do good for people in the world. Then, I'd put Wil in charge of implementation. The rest of us would be his minions. I'm sure I'd be hired on as a personal masseuse. (And if that comes with health insurance, that solves my job problem. La!)
• For just ONE day (it would have to be limited for reasons of will power) I want Dunkin Donuts to be down the street from me so I can spend $3 or less on really good coffee and a donut.
• I want more choices available for streaming on Netflix. Don't you?
• I want popcorn to be magically carb free. Especially when I eat it at 11pm

Barring all of that, because, really, I think it will be hard to get Dunkin Donuts to set up shop here on time, and because none of us know what to do about the crazy people who take it so lightly to propose concentration camps for gay people, I'll take some beer, a burger, and a nice quiet birthday with a few of the people who I think of as teachers and friends and loved ones. But, you know, if you happen on some carb-free popcorn that tastes as good as the stuff I make at home . . . send it on over.

Some principles

In February and March, I wrote a number of posts deeply examining my insides, my difficulty with change and belief, my growing faith in . . . something as of yet undefined, and rediscovering who I really am and who I really want to be as I continue to (sometimes painfully) grow up a little more. I wrote about values and the idea of a mission statement. I did not write the mission statement. But, a friend who has stuck by me for what is nigh unto half my life now, did.

He wrote something for a young friend, and it got me thinking about what are the things I think are important to be and understand and see and do to develop ones' self. So, this collection of ideas, (many borrowed from my friend and other places) is for my young friends, and especially for my nephew who is graduating from high school VERY soon.

 . . . And if I seem all too wise here, remember, I drew from many sources, and these are things I am still working on. All the time.

(Many thanks to Wil Doane for inspiring the thought of this post and for writing several phrases herein)

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Learn who you are - talents, strengths, needs, blindspots.
Do what you need to do to have as clear a view of that as you can -
therapy, meditation, long walks, long talks, pushing your limits, listening to constructive criticism.
Then learn how to not be afraid to be that person, even when things get hard.
Find and maintain the friendships that appreciate you for exactly that.

If you have a friend or loved one who sees you for your best self,
and loves you through your less than stellar moments, keep them if you can.
Don't replace them simply because your life is moving on.
(My three best friends have made all the difference in my life - good moments and bad)

How you behave when you are alone is much more defining
than who you are when you are looking cool to your friends.
I often check myself by how I behave when driving alone -
do I yell at drivers, flick them off, and drive aggressively?
Find the environment you can check yourself in.
Knowing you can live up to yourself without observation is invaluable.

Set high standards for yourself,
announce your goals,
and do everything you can to live up to that bar.
Forgive yourself if you fall short; try again.

You cannot forgive anyone else if you don't first
learn how to forgive your own faults and weak moments.

Do not ask others to complete tasks or live up to standards
that you aren't able or willing to live up to.
Don't ever be "too good" to do something that needs doing or
to help when you are asked to help.

Be accountable.
Try to agree to do things that you know you can follow through on.
Try not to make promises that you have to back out of.
When you are unable to deliver on something, be honest about it, as early as possible.

Be consistent in your own beliefs to the point that you know who you are
and what values you hold dear,
But do not hold so tightly to them that you can't consider new information and questions.
Beware belief systems that construe commitment and consistency
as condemning others.

Figure out what you stand for and then stand for it all the time.
And when something challenges that, ask yourself, carefully,
if it is because your principles have changed,
or because you think you can manage stepping over the line and then stepping back.
Beware the later.

Learn to cook, even it's just for yourself.
Cooking helps you understand food better, and this in turn
creates a healthier relationship with food.
Sometimes popcorn for dinner is a necessity, though.

Be willing to let someone with one item go ahead of you at the checkout.
If you are young and healthy, do not waste your time circling for a closer spot.
Park and walk in.

Beware of people who insist on looking good
rather than being good.
Remember that goodness comes in many varieties.

Respect others and expect respect in return.
Avoid those who do not.

Always do your best work.
Be willing to accept, in return, feedback on ways to make your best better.

When at a performance or presentation, be polite.
Try not to text, start side conversations, or openly scorn those taking risks even if
what they are producing is less than you hoped for.
They put time and energy into getting up there.

Offering criticism need not solely be about being critical.
Recognize that almost everything can be improved.
Naming problems is one part of healthy progress.
Offering multiple solutions is the other part.
Figuring out how to implement them is where the real growth happens.

"Fake it until you make it," will work in some situations.
Asking honest, sincere, interested questions works in almost every situation.
Give suggestions, but voice more questions than opinions.

Be an active participant in your own learning.
Communicate often with your peers and mentors.
Strive to ask meaningful and well-formed questions.

When you find yourself connecting with people who support
and even challenge you to be the best version of yourself,
appreciate them robustly.
Let them show you who and what they are.
Remember that gaining someone's trust often means trusting yourself to them.

Choose these people carefully, but love them wholly.
Help them make connections of support with each other.

Make explicit your own principles and core values.
Find the things, people, and communities that connect you back to them.
Find the things about which you are driven and most passionate.
Make these the center of your studies, relationships, connections, network, and life.

Find something or keep doing something just for fun.

There is probably no such thing as a life without regrets.

Do your best to make the wisest choice by analyzing the information you have at any moment.

The rest is out of your control. 

Plans help.
Being able to adjust them helps more.
Learning from your regrets is best of all.

Try not to do things that you couldn't bear to tell your best friend about.

If you feel yourself rationalizing something,
giving the reasons out loud for why or why not,
this is more a sign of convincing yourself of something,
rather than convincing who you are telling it to.
Guilt is not the same as regret.
Examine if the guilt is about a regret you want to address,
or the response to someone else's expectation.

You will have failures.
Watching yourself when you are reacting to and navigating through those moments
will tell you a great deal about your strengths and weaknesses.
Try to leverage your strengths to overcome and improve on your weaknesses.

Your principles matter most when you have to act on them.
This is also when it will be hardest to do so.

Expectation

Suffering is the result of attachment.

This is something my therapist reminds me of a lot, and he freely attributes it to the writings of Buddhism. He's an equal opportunity user of religious tenants in our session and has mentioned, among other things: Buddhism, Christianity, and Judaism. (It's kind of nice to sit on a couch that welcomes science and logic, feelings and things that are less than rational, and world religion in equal measure.)

What he's really saying though is, when you get attached to something, you place expectation on it. You make plans based on the idea of counting on something that will hold those plans up. And since each thing you build on top of this foundation is contingent upon the thing before it, and since the foundation may or may not live up to the expectation, if any of this goes against the grain of the wood you're laying on this foundation or if the foundation itself wobbles . . .  the expectations come crashing down. Unmet. And then what you have on your hands is a mess to clean up, and something akin to a bruise on your ego with a healthy dose of disappointment. Frustration, kicking yourself, sadness for what could have been but wasn't. Suffering.

Expectation leads to suffering.

And I am the queen of expectation. Mostly, I hold myself to painfully high standards, which is another way of saying I create expectation and the accompanying suffering for myself. I owe a lot of what I've accomplished to setting the bar high, and then going above and beyond to get there, but along the way I also have signed up for more than my fair share of being hard on myself. In fact, just today I was telling a story that I often tell when I'm remembering how hard work-life balance was for me in my old job (or alternatively if I'm looking to make fun of myself) about a time when I was trying to support an entire branch's worth of centers by my lonesome and working well over 80 hours a week. It meant eating a lot of Subway and being on the road from 7 am until often well past 8 or 9pm. It meant that this chic, the one who hates speaking out loud (to anyone if I can help it) before 8 or 9am, and has low blood sugar (especially in the mornings) was trying to work out at 5am and then on the road for 10-14 hours a day. I was saying how I came home on a Wednesday at 10pm and realized my choices were to stay up until past 1am doing laundry or get up at 4am to do laundry.  Orrrrrr secret door number three: iron and re-wear my pants and drive 4 blocks to Walgreens and buy new underwear. I took secret door number three but as I was driving the 4 blocks there and back I was mentally consumed by the feeling I was (and I quote) failing life.

That's right: not working too much, or sacrificing for my team and my job, or going above and beyond for the clients and centers I supported. But failing basic life 101. It's funny, but it isn't. 20/20 hindsight took so long to sink in that it was literally more than a year before I looked back on that night (which I have vivid memories of) and realized that if there was any failure it was in the planning that left me as the only consultant in a territory covering three states, or on the part of the expectations set by my employer.

This is related to, but not the same as my musings on failure. Abstractly, I understand the uses of failure. The importance of failure. Even the necessity of failure. But I see it in terms of how successful people (Ali, Steve Jobs, JK Rowling, and Einstein come to mind) carved a path, picked themselves up, and learned what not to do. Even my own failures are best viewed from a safe distance. The time I didn't get cast in a show, but discovered my passion for stage managing as a result, the time I failed a class at a college that didn't have grades (oh, yeah. It takes someone really spesh like me to fail even in the absence of grades), the time I moved across the country for my fiance only to find myself alone knowing no one at the worst, most emotionally raw moment I've ever experienced. Sitting where I sit now, 20 years, 14 years, 4 years after those hard, weak, disappointing moments and outcomes I see how those hardships, those mistakes, those speed bumps opened my eyes, made me grow, bent me in a new or even better direction. From this safe perspective, I can be grateful for my expectations not being met, for those failures, and I can even see how they lead to successes.

From here. But never ever from the moment. Really. Never.

A lot of people SAY they're their own worst critic. But for me in the moment of defeat, I become a poor, abused child. I don't just beat myself up, I beat myself up, followed by kicking myself while I'm down (from the beating), then, while I'm lower than low (from the beating followed by kicking) I bring on the flogging and torture, and then I ask my wounded, limping, inner self to write "I am a terrible, miserable failure. I am not worthy" on the proverbial blackboard 100 times. Then I ask that poor child to write an essay about what she's learned from all of this  ( . . . hence this blog).

It's ironic, because I'm told I'm a good person to have on hand when things aren't working out as planned. I'm compassionate and I often even say things that aren't just supportive, but are smart and understanding. I get it, I let people feel their feelings, but then I also help them see the road ahead. this is what I'm told. So . . . why can't I tell myself these things?

Well, hey, this is what therapy is for, and so we've come full circle to where I started - my therapist says attachment leads to suffering. There's a multifaceted idea he and I are working on . . . ways to notice how much I judge myself, ways to work on it without setting the expectation of banishing it too high . . . leading to more judgement and suffering. Ways to pick myself up when I do find myself rolling on the ground taking kicks.

But, I've had a lot of speed bumps this year. If I'm honest, my expectation was that I would have a job long before now. That my feet would be back on the road of figuring out how I want things to align in my life, and what I'm going to be putting my passion and energy and drive and killer work-ethic towards. I truly never expected to be just a few days away from turning 35 still wondering what opportunities I might have, and how the pieces would fit together.

I've realized lately that standards are one thing, and judgement, expectation, and self-flogging are completely another. I was in the process of discussing a job that, frankly, had more liabilities than assets. It very likely would have held me in place, for not enough money or challenge, while making it nigh to impossible to job hunt for anything else. We mutually reached the conclusion that when she moves her business forward, she will be ready for my higher skill set, but until then, she needs to hire to fill the need she has now. It was perfectly reasonable, and more than that, self-preservational (even, gasp, hopeful and optimistic of me) for me to reach the conclusions that this job didn't meet my standards and might create as many issues as it solved if there wasn't a clear path for me to move onto greater things (and there wasn't). The problem that I avoided was getting attached to this interview as the solution to my rapidly scary problem.

I've learned this lesson the hard way a few times over this year. I've worked so hard to apply only for jobs I really want, so this means that when I get an interview, or worse, a second interview, I feel, well, attached. And what follows is expectation. And over and over, that has lead to disappointment and suffering.

My therapist is of the opinion that when I figure out how to let go, when I stop white-knuckling, when I can be truly and authentically OK without slotting everything into a plan, a design, a structure (all disguises for expectation, by the way) that is when I will find and land the right opportunity.

I have some significant reservations about attaching my job search results to something mystical. Of the jobs I've been most excited about and not gotten, one of them was really hiring from within. Another changed the details of the job as well as the salary after I had already interviewed several times. A third turned out not to have the budget for another full time employee. A fourth re-wrote the position significantly around another candidate, and that wasn't the job I had applied for so I was just not in the running anymore. I'm not sure that not getting any of those jobs had to do with the cloud of judgement and expectation I let mushroom around me.

But I can't deny the fact that I have this desire for all of the struggle and emotional work and mis-steps to lead to something amazing. Some job that is better, less commute, better for my life outside of work, contributing to the greater good, thrilling, worthy of my passion and skills. You know, all around SHINY. And If I can't deny that desire, I also can't ignore that that is expectation setting me up for pain again.

That is the truth, though. I want things. I want to know if I am going to be able to swing it to go to my dear friend's long overdue wedding celebration in August.  I want to have the ability to feel secure enough on my own path that I have some sense of how I would walk that way with my person . . . if it turned out we both wanted that. I want to fly to New Jersey and meet the beautiful happy baby some of my best friends' had. I want to work out with my trainer again. I want to not have to tell people, "I'm not sure I can do that. We'll see what I can afford." I want to go hiking without worrying what would happen if my knees blew out again and I had no insurance. I want to not have my answer to almost everything be, "I have NOOOOOOOOOO idea what my life will look like in three months so . . ."

I want things. I want them two months ago. and I think what I really want is a smidge of stability and some predictability. I think I want some safety and I want some relief from doubt. It's like my favorite Toad the Wet Sprocket song,"I spend too much time seeking shelter. World without end couldn't hold her."

I don't know if getting better at free-falling will help me get a job, but as long as I'm out here, falling fast without a chute, it probably pays to get better at it anyways. Lord knows I'm not working, soooooo, if not now, when?! (A little unemployment humor goes a long way.)

Three minutes - Day one, take two

A couple of weeks ago, I posted about meditation.

Meditation is really, really hard for me. I know you all heard this all before but it is harder than making myself work out, harder than passing up cake, harder than pull-ups. and pull-ups are really hard.

The thing for me, about meditation, is that I can sit. And I can breathe . . . usually. Maybe not for long, and I may or may not actually fully empty myself out. And all of that is fine. I agree with my therapist that it's a practice, and that's it's called practice for a reason. It is whatever it can be on any given day - some days it's a constant process of hearing the voices and judgements in my head, and other days it's a chance to slow my brain down and feel something like approaching peace, some days it's a chance to process. Most days, whatever has happened "on the mat" so to speak, I feel good about having done it at all. Most days, when I open my eyes up after sitting and breathing, colors look brighter and my vision seems to be sharper. Life seems a little more in focus from how it was.

This is funny, because I've been sitting for three minutes at a time. No more, no less.

You may remember that when I wrote about ADD I talked about following a plan of 2 minutes a day, then ramping up to 5 minutes a day. But the truth is, it took two tries to get 2 minutes a day consistent for a week at a time. Two minutes seems like so little, but just as I discovered when I was taking pictures of myself every day for a year, and posting them, the list of things we do EVERY DAY without fail, never missing them, for any reason, is really, really finitely small. For me, now that I am not longer doing a 365 days photo project the list is this long:

1. Breathe
2. Drink Water
3. Brush my teeth ( I never don't do this. Because I am very, very into clean teeth)

That's the entire list, plus now, trying to sit and breathe every day. I don't eat every day. Almost every day, of course, but since doing a 365 I am very aware that thinking you do something every day is not the same as doing things every day. So, I know, for instance, that three times in the last 3 years I've been sick enough to skip eating for a day. I may, if I can succeed at sitting and breathing every day, add writing every day, or even do another 365, but for now, four things is enough to try for because I have a tendency to over-commit and even to over-commit plus then beating myself up for not being able to maintain everything.

So, here is the story of me trying to meditate every day, for just a few minutes.

Week 1. Objective: sit for two minutes every day. After a week of doing this, advance to 5 minutes a day.

The first three days were great. I got up each morning, sat for two minutes, and then had these peaceful and very contented breakfasts. I sat on my porch and noticed things. I had visions of photos I wanted to take and things I wanted to write. I felt good. Then, I started feeling . . . dragged around by unexpected feelings. Stress, judgment, expectation. I was so, so tired and found myself sleeping in. I had interviews. I felt . . . too full. So, I missed day 4 and 5. On day 6, I really needed my processing time and did my breathing on the couch, staring at my "processing ceiling." On day 7, I knew I needed another week of two minutes before "advancing."

Week 2. Objective: Sit for 2 minutes a day. Set no other goals regarding the practice of sitting and breathing.

Day 1 - I should read that book that Susan gave me. Actually, she loaned you two books. Maybe you should swim this week. And, Gabrielle loaned you a book too. Does she still have a copy of "All Families are psychotic?" Is this helping you with your family? Maybe, maybe not. If nothing else, then at least it makes you feel better at dealing with you. Shut up, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!
Day 2 - Breathe in. Breath out. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's all.

Day 3 - One in; one out. One, two, in; One, two, out. One, two, three, in; one, two, three, out. So, on and so forth.

Day 4 - I should make coffee this morning. Shut up brain. Breathe. Seriously, you breathe without thinking. why can't you JUST do this?

Day 5 - I wonder if there's any research about how asthmatics benefit from meditation and breathing practice? I need to blow my nose. This allergy season blows. 

Day 6 - crap. I almost forgot to do this! And then . . . emptiness. And relief.

Day 7 - I don't want to. But I refuse to mess this up. Try not to fall asleep!
Week 3. Objective: Sit for 3 minutes a day. Set no other goals regarding the practice of sitting and breathing.
Day 1: Let's try sitting in the afternoon = epic fail. My mind was EVERYWHERE at once, and nowhere fully, and importantly, nowhere near settled on sitting peacefully.

Day 2: Sitting in my car before an interview. Set a timer and used this technique from the article (which I used to use in high school and college):

If (following the breath) seems hard at first, you can substitute the method of counting your breath. As you breathe in, count 1 in your mind, and as you breathe out, count 1. Breathe in, count 2. Breathe out, count 2. Continue through 10, then return to 1 again. This counting is like a string which attaches your mindfulness to your breath. This exercise is the beginning point in the process of becoming continuously conscious of your breath. Without mindfulness, however, you will quickly lose count. When the count is lost, simply return to 1 and keep trying until you can keep the count correctly.
The timer went off before I realized it. It went wayyyyyy fast.

Day 3: whoooooooooooops! Totally forgot.

Day 4: see above

Day 5: Breathe in. Breath out. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's all.

Day 6: What if I don't get this job? What should I make for dinner? Did I eat enough protein today? It's hard to breathe through my nose right now. My knee hurts. Beer sounds good. I should substitute a carb at dinner for a beer. Should I start getting serious about part time jobs for the summer? How much time will that take away from my job hunt? Does that just prolong this issue rather than solving it? 
Day 7: whooooops! Totally forgot.

Thus, today is 3 minutes, day 1.2 - insert here me laughing at myself.

But gently.

As the article says, "If you're anything like me, meditation will help you realize just how far, and how fast, your mind can wander from what you're supposed to be doing at the moment. In an age of multitasking, hyper-scheduling, and instant internet distraction, that alone can be a huge help."The problem for me, is clearly that my mind wants to run right up against the glass separating me from the the big giant beastly things we look at safely, when they are in cages. And then it wants to run back as quickly as it came. And on the path back, it encounters other things. Things that are conveniently distracting like what to eat, drink, and read.

So, when I picked up "When things Fall Apart" by Pema Chodron, I knew I was onto something when she said,"Fear is a universal experience. Even the smallest insect feels it. We wade into the tidal pools and put our finger near the soft, open bodies of the sea anemones and they close up. Everything spontaneously does that. It's not a terrible thing that we feel fear when faced with the unknown. It is part of being alive, something we all share. We react against the possibility of loneliness, of death, of not having anything to hold onto. Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth. If we commit ourselves to staying right where we are, then our experience becomes very vivid. Things become very clear when we have nowhere to escape."

It's hard to pass by a mirror and not notice that it's you in there.

I am afraid. And fear is something I don't face very often because there is little I fear. I often proceed to do things that others think are hard without fear. It's not that I don't feel normal anxiety, it's that I don't have a lot of fears. I'm not afraid of elevators, heights, jumping from them, sparring big men, tunnels, moving to new places, or  meeting new people. Other people ask me to deal with their rodent and bug issues. I have not a second thought about blood or needles, and I have watched my own surgeries. I'm allergic to pain meds, so when I do have surgeries I deal with pain on my own. The list of things I'm afraid of is almost as short as the list of things I do daily without fail:

1. I am afraid of the dark. It's silly.
2. I am not exactly afraid of  but have some strong irrational reactions to anyone pushing on or pinning my neck.
3. I have some weird and not always logical concerns about meat and diseases. This is most often seen in how I shudder and wash my hands eight times after handling chicken. Bllleeeechhhh.
4. I secretly worry that all of this time I've spent thinking about raising kids won't translate into me actually being a good parent.

I've had this list for some time. I've operated under the idea that I walk through the world, mostly unafraid so long as I don't have to deal with chicken in the dark while someone is pointing out all of the flaws in my fictitious-as-of-yet parenting.

But, as it turns out, our friend Pema has me thinking. I recently told someone that we can't every know what someone thinks, how their mind actually computes something, or what we feel. As a psychologist I was trained deeply to understand that all we can see, all we can measure, is behavior. And my behavior suggest I am attracted to other unnamed things that frighten me, but that I am, in fact, scared.

And so my natural instinct is to "forget" to meditate, forget to sit with that discomfort, or to sit, and then instantly turn the spot light on other things (like beer, and books, and peanut butter).

My therapist said "don't you think it's about time that you stopped carrying all of that judgment around with you?"

And my person said, "maybe you need to get comfortable with being able to make decision without knowing all of the variables."

These are all ways of saying, what Pema says which is, "What we're talking about is getting to know fear,  becoming familiar with fear, looking it right in the eye - no, not as a way to solve problems, but as a complete undoing of old ways of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and thinking." 

I notice that I am changing. I sleep differently. I approach things differently. And though I can often be hear lamenting, "I have no way to plan what three months from now looks like, " I can also be heard saying that with reverence and wonder. I eat differently. I sometimes rationalize what I have done, accepted, or asked for help on; but I am also doing it without nearly as much pain as I previously experienced.

So, I will keep sitting. And seeing how up-close-and-personal I can get with my fears. you know, the ones I'm still getting acquainted with. when I know what they are, an update on that list will be forthcoming. (Duhn duhn duhhhnnnn) It may take me forever and a day to sit for 5 minutes a day, but I'm quite sure that however and whenever I get there I will know my insides better, and see the outside not just more sharply, as I do now after just 2 or 3 minutes, but with much less fear and judgment and much more vividness.

Failure is not an option

As it turns out, my friends are a very accomplished bunch. Lots of Master's degrees, PH.Ds, fancy post docs, and important jobs that actually make people's lives better. As a result of aiming high, it means that there is a lot of success, but also a lot of experience with falling off the proverbial horse and fighting back.

As my Sensei used to say, increasing success means increasing failures. In theory, the idea is that by increasing the number of attempts you make, you may have more failures, but you will also make enough attempts (and learn from the failures) such that you achieve success faster. In reality, it means having the resolve, the resiliency, and the relentlessness to keep getting up each and every time you fall. And it means having a deep confidence and unshakable faith that getting up each time matters and will cumulatively get you that much closer to your objective.

I've been thinking this a lot as I've seen the stars align or not for me, and for my friends over the last few weeks. One of my beloved friend's succes and a new option might mean a drastic change for another friend in how he looks at his future employment options. Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, another dear friend has worked his everything off to jump through hoops and get all the appropriate initials after his name, to find an environment that not only matches his qualifications and interests, but that allowed him to positively impact others only to give them 2 years and not be invited to keep infecting others with his passion next fall. I have as many friends in academia who have jobs as those who don't, at this point, and let's be clear - these are not just very well trained individuals in their fields, but also some of the smartest people I know in real life.

Of course, I thought I was leaving that game when I Mastered out of my Ph.D. program. And now I lie on my couch and marvel at how people with degrees from MIT and people who have Ph.Ds from top 10 programs in their field are asked to take more time to do post-docs (read: supervised research paid at a very low rate in some OTHER ostensibly "more established" Ph.D's lab) and postpone their career . . . you know, after passing every exam known to man, defending papers and proposals orally, living on pittances for 5-7 years, and achieving graduation from the 23rd grade. Yes, absolutely, more training and waiting to dive in is what makes sense, no? And how can these people not being able to find good employment that aligns with their passions be in common with me?

When I left grad school, it followed what I can only describe as prolonged trauma that made it impossible for me to continue the research I had entered my studies aimed at. That trauma was what caused me to pack the personal items I had in that lab and on my desk and become a nomadic grad in one of the rotating "TA" offices for the year. I spent a semester looking for a new lab and advisor, but politics and circumstance prevented that avenue of soldiering forward as well. So . . . I made plans to exit.

Sounds simple, and logical, right? It was anything but. It was everything but. There were a lot of exit interviews and job hunting, but mostly there were two tapes I had to keep playing in my head and two I had to try and drown out. The two loops I had to try and eliminate from my internal sound-system were, "You're a quitter," and "You will regret not sticking it out." The two tapes I tried to queue up over the top of these were, "You're stopping something that is harmful. You are preventing what amounts to abuse. It's not the same as quitting. Not the same AT ALL." And, equally important," you WILL get a job and figure out what happens next."

I got a job out of sheer will and luck and persistence and putting the time into job hunting over and over and over. But I had to play these tapes in my head diligently every day in order to keep moving forward as options I pursued winked out one by one, moving to different labs, moving to different programs at different universities, jobs I wanted and didn't get. Otherwise, it would have been very easy to feel defeated, which would have been the worst response and would have prevented me from seeing the new opportunities popping up. So, I kept moving forward, choosing to feign faith in the results I had no idea if I would garner.

Failure wasn't an option, and so I made it work that way. I had a six month deadline to get a full time job or else commit myself to summer jobs that it would then be very hard to back out of. And I got a full time job about 2 weeks before I had to set all of that in motion. I "made it so", in Picardian fashion. It wouldn't have been terrible to run 4 weeks of Karate camp and have taught for 6 weeks but it would have meant remaining engaged with the university I needed badly to leave, at least for half of that work, and perhaps worse, I would have had 10 weeks where it would have been very hard to extract myself for interviews or to start better jobs with futures beyond Labor Day. I posted a note in my kitchen saying "Failure is not an option," and adhered to this. This was a throw back to the one or two all nighters I would pull every year in college trying to complete final calculus assignments, take home logic finals, and papers after having worked until midnight or so. (The busiest times for Hampshire's version of RAs to pull off programs and events, do peer level counseling and meetings, and actually work with students during house office hours were . . . go figure, the end of the semester. And of course, this was also when we were hiring staff for the next semester so, what was a 15-20 hour a week job always became a 30-40 hour a week job during the last 3 weeks of the term. at least some all-nighters became expected for me as a matter of reality, not bad planning.) I used to hang this sign off of the nearest book shelf, facing me, as I feverishly revised papers. And it worked.

So, why hasn't it worked for my friends? They too need jobs and not to need to take steps backwards. Bills to pay, households, marriages, and responsibilities to tend to. They need to not do stupid things for money, and things that take them away from their chosen professions . . . at which, I would add, they are not only very well trained, but exceedingly skilled and good at. And, why hasn't it yet worked for me in this job search? In this case, I do not have stupid summer jobs lined up. Failure really, really, truly, really-really is not an option. I can tutor for $13 an hour this summer, and find some other part time job to try and fill that gap. But, in actuality, that's going to put me in a hole pretty fast. So, for reals now, a job before my birthday is what's needed.

I shall note it on my birthday list.

I'm of some different thoughts about why the failure isn't an option strategy isn't getting results now, for me, or for my friends. On the one hand, finding the right job, the job that makes you want to get up in the morning, the job that pays you well enough and allows you to have the work-life balance that works for you and yours, the job that excites you enough that you're willing to pitch in on the un-thrilling days . . . well, that's a bigger problem to solve than finishing a paper. That's a bigger problem than trying to finish four papers .  . and that's saying something since my papers at Hampshire were often 30+ pages! You can't just will it. I mean, I did, but (and here's the other thing) - that was six years ago. So, yes, that's right, I am going to reference how bad this job market is (for what I believe is the first time on this blog). Six years ago was a different story, for shiz.

I also think that it's possible that we three have not had exactly the failures we need yet. That, in reality, of course, failure is an option and may be what paves the way for success. That failure has uses, even when it feels . . . untimely or inconvenient or even beyond uncomfortable. As in, "Ok, it seemed like a good job on paper, but now that I've interviewed I see what they really meant when they said ____ in the posting and that should've been a red flag," or "Hmmm, next time I should follow up on that app sooner so I can stay on their radar."

Or, it's just possible that this will be like what one of these very friends mentioned above told me once, on a bitterly cold night in January as we waited for a bus. He said, "At the moment I give up, it will arrive. But I can't tell myself to give up and fake it out. If I'm only saying I give up, then it won't show. But at the moment I truly am done believing then the universe will provide."

This is hard to explain to people who don't know him but this was the first moment I knew my friend to be a hopeless optimist. Possibly glass overflowing, sappy, optimism at times. He may, occasionally, show some sand-paper to the world rather than baring his skin. He also is steeped in how to make things better and in his world, this means being very clear about what is NOT optimal. To some this looks like complaining, but to me, I know it comes from deep belief that things CAN be made better and a logical progression that requires him to fist be explicit about what needs to be improved. I didn't know it until he talked about how giving up being related to how good things happen, But he believes in some structure of the universe. Some force for good. Some way of creating balance with the force.

It may seem strange that I've tagged this post about failure with "optimism" but I think what I'm saying is, failure sucks. For me, it hurts and wounds and leaves bruises. It makes me want to give up and pull covers over my head in the moment. But sometimes it makes me step out of things that weren't working for me. I failed to get a Ph.D, but succeeded at standing up for myself, getting a Master's, and finding a job in my field. I have failed, so far, at finding the right new job in 2012 (but I only have to get it right once, eh?), but have succeeded in purging a lot of demons from my head, and reconfiguring how healthy and ambitious can align in my life moving forward. And while I've had some very disheartening interviews and frustrating almost-job-offer situations in this four months of unemployment, I've also honed in on a closer approximation to what kind of jobs could turn into the right ones for me. It only takes one thing to change and turn all of that into total success - and not just success that looks like a paycheck, but success that looks like a wholly renovated life for me where all those failures stack up to me sitting in a completely different place, with a much better view than when I had my last paycheck.

I think that I still think that the universe will provide. And I think I still think it will happen before my bank account hits zero. And I think my friends will find what they need for right now, and, eventually, in the long run. So, even though the glasses have some failures in them, and though they may not be half full, I think there's enough there to keep us going. That is the most I can ask for today . . . but watch out when my birthday approaches because I will certainly feel free to ask for more then.

Tales from an un-house-wife

My mom is fond of spinning a web of hypothetical plans for the magical day when she finds herself independently wealthy. She says she would volunteer somewhere very meaningful, hire a trainer and house cleaner, and go to the spa every week.

These all sound like good plans.

But, I now have my first ever experience of not running from one place to the next, or one job to the next, and the idea of not working is no longer novel to me. I do volunteer, and it is somewhere very meaningful. I do work out. I don't go to the spa, but I do give myself a pedicure every two weeks - not just because it is more economical to do it myself but because I actually have time for such things now. I will probably never hire anyone to do my cleaning for me. I cleaned houses to pay for college (among many other jobs I took on during that time to pay tuition) and it's hard for me to be part of that dynamic, as a result. Also, let's be honest - I get a lot of satisfaction out of cleaning things. (Ok, maybe not windows. Or tile. Of any kind. Or stoves. So, let's say I would hire someone to clean those things, and those things only, maybe 3 or 4 times a year)

It seems like a cushy lifestyle, right? To sit outside and read, or write, to have a cool dog to hang out with and to take hikes, to have the luxury to cook, and keep your house clean, and meet friends for lunch in the middle of the day. And minus the constant applying, and the stress about where my life is going, and how far off course I am from my long term plans, this is my life right now (add borrowed dog to very cool hiking trails, mix well, smile).

But, let's just say it was possible to subtract out the stress, and the constant mill of applying and fretting about getting a job (I can manage this stress subtraction operation for short periods - maybe even for 10-12 hours on a really nice Saturday) - not working carries with it other liabilities. For one, I'm struggling with focus and concentration because of the special blend of coming by ADD naturally, stress, and open-ended-ness of this venture. For another, I'm becoming a secret introvert. I have the utmost respect for introversion, and I need my alone time to process and analyze - that has always been true even when I haven't been as good at recognizing it. But now, I'm hearing my extroverted self say, "I don't want to go to ______ if it's going to be really loud and full of people," and putting a lot more energy into having one social interaction at a time. None of this is bad, per se, except that the last time I found myself in this mode it was because I was profoundly lonely and depressed and felt stranded in the place I was in. So, I'm watching this carefully to make sure that I'm not secretly really un-ok. In practical, logistical terms it means that when I find myself in this mode, personal interaction requires a little more bandwidth for me. So, interviews are becoming more taxing. It's easy for me to go, to talk, to be open and engaging and make the connection, but it was very apparent this week that that took a toll on my reserves. Or rather, it wasn't apparent, and that's why I passed out on my couch with my clothes on afterwards . . . and now I am very aware of it.

But all of this pales in comparison to what may be two irrational fears I have been struck by lately. I have, over the last couple of weeks, been very anxious about getting a job and then not being able to do it well. This is silly, if I look at it logically, because the truth is, I was very good at my last job. And, perhaps even more importantly (and even less humbly if that is possible) I am very good at learning new tasks quickly, and deeply, and then very quickly creating systems and processes to manage them and do them with aplomb and efficiency, and shortly thereafter working to connect my tasks and efforts and communication functionally to any other employees, departments, projects, so that I have thorough knowledge of how what I am doing affects other operations. I know my strengths (high standards and accountability, communication, training, work ethic, organization) and my weaknesses (typos, over-committing, seeming to apply unreasonably high standards to others, getting very attached to processes). And I'm passionate about doing important things, doing them well, and doing them for the right reasons. So, when I'm spending all of this alone-time introspecting, I can usually logically back away from this fallacy. I can talk myself off that ledge pretty well, though finding myself on it is unsettling.

More poignant than worrying (without cause, I suspect) that I will get a job and flop, is the right-now problem of having not worked for nearly 4 months and feeling very dull around the edges. I find myself, for the first time in my life, sometimes lacking things to say. (For anyone who knows me, please note this may be the ONLY time where I have a dearth of thoughts and words to share.) I say a lot here, but don't want to repeat myself when talking out loud. And most of the rest of my life seems to exist outside of the the real world. I feel like I've been quarantined, or in a coma, and am missing out on what the rest of the world does when it goes about its business. Its funny, because when I was working, I had placed intense focus on making sure that work didn't consume me. I actively sought out a life outside of work - running, working out, friends, singing, writing, and photography. I desperately wanted to have things that fulfilled me outside of work, and that mattered to me in ways that couldn't be measured by hours worked, a paycheck, mid-year evaluation, profitability metrics. But now, my whole life is not working, and I feel I have gone MIA from the population of people who DO THINGS that matter.  I mean, who cares how much I walked or meditated this week? Or the new recipe I found and then immediately altered? Or the fact that I had deep thoughts about how to rearrange the office, and my bedroom? Right - even I don't find those things that interesting and I'm the one contemplating them.

I sometimes open my mouth to say something about mopping my floor, fixing my dishwasher (which, if I'm being honest, I was a little proud that I could do), lightbulbs in my house, and why I used yellow tomatoes in a recipe instead of red, and there's a warning siren that goes off that screams, "Don't be a 1950's housewife!!" I am nobody's wife, of course, but damn, it would be easy to drink beer at noon, watch Grey's Anatomy, and let the constellations of my brain cells form around grocery sales, how to use my slow cooker and when to use bleach as a household cleaner.

My mom admitted to me that when she graduated high school her aspiration was to be a wife and mother. I have respect for this, as she did both well, and as it was a very different time for families, for women, and for how those choices got made. But, as a dear friend (who, I would add, achieved waiting patiently for the very thing she was internally very impatient to get) who recently had her first child said to me, "I love this baby soooo much AND I'm not a stay at home mom." It wasn't, I love my child BUT. It was both things, joined conditionally by AND. I am not a mother, nor wife, but I can say this - I love my new found peace and contentment and the rightness with myself and clear vision of what I want and how I think I can contribute. I love it so much, AND even if I were able, it would not be ok with me to stay home without a greater purpose for too much longer than I already have.

I want to have stories, I want to do difficult things, I want to fail and get better at something, I want to try and fit a dentist appointment into a busy week of meetings, I want to point to results at the end of the year or quarter or whatever and know what part I had in them, I want to make a to do list of tasks that relate to tasks I can't accomplish in this house with a pot, pan, cutting board, or mop. I even want to complain about traffic or a commute or a roadblock to achieving something in my office because this would mean I was back in the world doing things, earning my happy hour in Friday, thinking about how to get better at something, how to do more, how to be of use.

I never wanted to stay home. In my mind, if I was ever going to stay home it would be for my child, and it would have a pre-determined end point, a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel now like I am at the end of the tunnel, and waiting expectantly for that light to come on.

It's time for me to find my way out of this labyrinth and see "what's next" but I'm not sure this gets to happen on my schedule. So, I'm trying to do the things that work to keep me feeling connected to the rest of the world, and trying to dream up projects and pursuits that keep me from getting too boring to stand even myself. This is where it would be GREAT NEWS to be independently wealthy because then I'd have the resources to take on whatever seemed most engaging to me - skydiving, digital photo editing, class on how to make sushi, cello lessons, done, done, check, check. But I've also found, in past lives, that working through and past limitations can sometimes unearth previously unrealized creativity. (The first time I consciously experienced this was when I wanted to have my lab over for dinner and found out that one member was vegetarian and allergic to: onions, garlic, dairy, eggs, and citrus. At first I thought, "what in the WORLD could I make that isn't completely bland without any of those ingredients?" And then I came up with a killer menu. ) So, I'm trying to see this as a stellar opportunity to be creative about how I want to be creative - read more about meditation, take some free yoga, train for a 5k that I might never race, draw sketches of how I could rearrange and redecorate my house, take free online software tutorials, think about what I would give a TED talk on, document gluten free recipes, write a zombie story, are all on the list of potential projects. Interesting other suggestions, please feel free to apply as comments to this post. :)

And let us all bow our heads an pray that I do not, someday, write a post about mopping my floors. 

ADD and focus

Everyone in my family has "special needs." (I know that term has a specific meaning, but hate it. Because . . . don't we all? I have friends who are allergic to dairy and I attend to this when I cook for them. And friends who are introverts and won't enjoy a large group. Friends who are afraid of heights or elevators. Cello, we all have things, yeah?) Although my father had the kind of singular focus that all engineers do (in my experience), he also had some pretty apparent hyperactivity. And for those who think hyperactivity is the same as kids being boisterous and that people "outgrow" this, well, umm, no. You'd need only to meet my brother who is still the most ADHD person I know, now in his 30's, to see the incredible effort it is for him to sit in one seat for more then 10-15 minutes. While strong leanings towards math, science and mechanically complex knowledge as well as allergies and diabetes are traced on my mother's side of the family, strong leanings towards creativity, art and writing, nurturing and teaching, OCD, and ADD/ADHD cascade through my father's side of the family. (Both sides have poor vision and asthma, so, there was just no way out there.)

Growing up in house full of talented, smart (if not always conventionally so) people the expectations were high. (And no, this doesn't impact me at all now; I have no idea what you could be talking about! ) We were all expected to work hard, do our homework, get good grades (really good grades), as well as participating in other activities with dedication and some success. Swim lessons were not an option, and taking a musical instrument was strongly promoted. We all played soccer, for various lengths of time, and we all had at least one sport each year all through high school (My brothers typically had three or four, while I switched to music, writing, and what can only be described as the busiest high school drama program EVER). This on top of speech therapy and other kinds of assistance for me for years, and some early intervention for my brothers as well.

My mom's attitude was always, "Oh, that's harder for you. Hmmm. Too bad, you still have to do it." She wasn't unwilling to help, to try and strategize ways to make life more functional, or to be an advocate for us at school. But she was unwilling to let us make excuses. Spelling was surprisingly hard for me, considering my large and growing vocabulary in elementary school and my high school reading comprehension by grade 4. This was probably because of the delay in my hearing (my ears were blocked until I was about 5 or 6), which in turn probably caused my speech difficulties in addition to some weakness in phonemic awareness . . . which we now know through reading readiness research is linked to spelling. My mom fought for a speech therapy IEP for me, but she also wasn't going to let me off the hook. Whatever lists of words I was practicing for speech, she adamantly inserted into our conversations at home. And I was drilled on spelling words every night.

Much the same was true for my brothers who were identified early as struggling with focus and concentration. She wasn't unwilling to adjust the daily schedule to include laps around the house to burn off energy before homework or dinner . . . or both. There was never any blame or lack of understanding. My brothers weren't berated for their struggles and I was never made to feel badly about my spelling or mushy speech, but I was expected to work on it and consistently get better. My brothers weren't excused from acting like human beings, but there was often plans on how to best make things work for them so they could function. There is a subtle but important difference there that I've come to appreciate as an educator who heard over and over, "Well he has _____ and that means he can't ______." Ahhhhhhhhhh!!

In my house it never meant "s/he can't" but instead: it might take longer, you might have to work harder at it, or we might have to do that a different way to make it feasible.

So, I have of course carried this view into the world. Differences in what is easy or hard for me about a task aside, I should just do it and find the way that makes it work. (Case in point: who thinks it's a good idea for an asthmatic with two bad knees to run? ME!) I look down on no one who medicates their ADD kids, but know that it's not necessary for all ADD kids. I also think that whatever intervention or therapy is used or not used, environment and expectation management at home bears huge relation to successful management of learning differences and challenges.

All of this has been on my mind for the last month as I have, alarmingly, noticed the marked increase in my own ADD tendencies. I was never diagnosed as a kid - I certainly rarely exhibit any hyperactivity, and I would add that this is why so few girls are diagnosed with ADD. But two therapists in my adult life have remarked on it. I CAN focus, but I don't always PREFER to focus on one thing at a time. Our current societal norms of texting, while I check my FB status and send an email, while drinking coffee and making a grocery list of course, do nothing to disuade this. The interestingly unanswerable question is: am I genetically wired to multi-task to the point of dissipating my focus or ability to concentrate on one thing? Or is it learned behavior from being surrounded by a family who rarely did one thing at a time, and never did it without fidgeting? Or both?

Whatever the case, it has always been true that even when it looks like I am doing one thing, it only looks that way - with a couple of important exceptions. By this I mean, I can do a very good impression of total focus, but when I'm taking a test, I'm also managing a panic attack, and when I'm on an important phone call, I'm probably also folding laundry or making a to-do list. When I'm running, I'm doing interview prep.

But there were always exceptions. It has always true that I could sit quietly and read or write. This was importantly true in my family of loud, chaotic, bouncing-off-the-walls-climbing-the-bookshelves (Literally - when my brother was less than 3 he was found sitting atop high things frequently having scaled his way to get there) people. If I needed to not be part of that, I could throw my legs over the side of an arm chair and read . . . for hours. I could escape to my room and write, and write, and write. Now, well, it's been months since I could read for more than 30 minutes at a time, which rings the alarm bell for me since that's the measure my brother used to pace himself in getting through college - study or read in 30 minute blocks and then go do something and start again. And I was doing fine on writing (maybe because I had so, so many feelings in so, so many directions as I go through all of this?) but the last month it's been harder and harder for me to gather myself together to sit in one place and collect my thoughts on one topic. I find myself, even when I don't mean to, avoiding it. Or sitting down to write, and then as I get up to pour coffee, drifting off through a series of actions I don't even realize are taking me farther and farther from the keyboard - coffee, mug, mugs are in dishwasher, dishwasher needs to be unloaded, unload, did I fold laundry?, check dryer, drink coffee and plan interview outfit, wash coffee cup and then all other dishes in sink . . .  and before I know it I'm multi-tasking four other things and a half an hour has gone by.

I have been struggling with focus since November when things got very hard and emotional on the job. I had a brief reprieve of peace and quiet in my brain when it looked like two or three job options were shaping up in February, but now . . . It's been four months and ADD is rearing it's head so much that I realized last night that I'm basically not watching TV because the thought of sitting in one place to watch something for 30-60 minutes sounds massively unappealingly uncomfortable to me unless I'm already exhausted, in which case I've found myself falling asleep to the three things I've tried to watch in the last couple of weeks. I mean, come on, unemployment is when you're supposed to sit around and watch TV!

Filling my days through only my own initiative was something I had to do every day for close to four years working as a remote, solo office here. But, of course, I was guided by deadlines, things that needed to get done for my instructors or supervisors, and the tasks involved in the work I was doing. Now, I have to generate not just the initiative and motivation, but the tasks themselves and the structure to do them in. It's been really tiring, if I'm being honest, and it has meant that I go to bed almost every night exhausted, ready to turn my brain off from this constant process. Not to mention, of course, staving off panic, anxiety, disappointment, and at times, depression.

Being tired and emotionally worn is definitely not helping with the ability to concentrate, but it also can't be entirely blamed since I've been tired and emotionally worn in the past and, you know, written 100 page thesis papers. More, I think, I feel ungrounded. And I need my feet to be a little more planted to sit quietly and read or write - it's hard to lean into only one thing when you're running in six directions, I think.

Here are some other strategies I'm thinking of:

• My mom made my brothers run around the house. Not as in "go out and play" but as in, "I think you should do eight laps tonight - I'll count and wave when you run by the window!" I probably need to run or walk every day, even when it's my "day off" from working out. Burn off some of the anxiety or whatever it is coursing through my veins these days.
• Conversely, my family never had much of the just sitting quietly and being going on. And this is something that I struggle with. I was so much better at it when I was walking as one of my two primary forms of transportation (see above), and had weekly practice from my attendance at Quaker meetings. But, when I do it I feel better. I feel like I know who and where I am. I feel . . . resolved and strong. So, I've decided to try the same thing I used to advocate to parents who asked me why Kumon work for their child started from such an easy point. I told them that the idea of doing something every day is actually hard - how many things could they say they do EVERY DAY without fail, after all (It's a short list for most adults. Something I became keenly aware of when I did a 365 days photo project in 2009-2010). I asked them to think about, if they wanted to do pushups every day - should they start with 50 pushups tomorrow having done none for the last several weeks? No, then they'd be too sore the day after to do any and the psychological process of building a new daily habit would have been disrupted. Start easy, build up to 50. Seems logical.
  
  So, for my meditation practice I'm following this suggestion of starting small - at first, 2 minutes a day. 
• Caffeine has helped me eat less and let's just be honest, I make some killer good coffee . . . but it is probably not helping me focus. I may not need to go all the way back to my 2 cups a month standard, but probably would do well to do less than coffee every day. And let me just own up - I love me some Diet Dr. Pepper but it has no redeeming value other than it being yummy. So, there's another source of caffeine I should let go of.
• Getting enough sleep is crucial - I will work to keep that out of all of this. It's been great to sleep 7-9 hours a night instead of calling 5-7 hours of broken a sleep a win, as I was in 2011.
• I probably need to make myself sit and read daily if I want to relocate that capacity.
• Similarly, I probably need to write some every day. Cover letters don't count, but this blog, my creative writing, and my journal do.
• I probably need to acknowledge that part of happy for me is having creative pursuits. In 2008 - 2009 a creative writing group, in 2009-2010 it was photography, every day, without fail, for 365. In 2010- 2011 it was all about performing and singing. Right now I'm putting so much towards staying afloat that I can't afford (literally) to sing, and I'm missing it. Writing is cheaper, but also complicated since it uses the same part of my skills that are being tapped to try and sell my wares to potential employers (write cover letter, adjust res, apply, lather, rinse, repeat.) I'm thinking the first thing on the list is to do some tutorials for the new (free!) photo tool someone awesome directed me to recently. It's also spring in Colorado, which, you know, is just the worst time to get out the fancy cam. (sarcasm)
• I also probably need to acknowledge that the times in the last 10 years when I was most grounded and focused, I was also pretty unhappy. Despite the stress of really-really NEEDING to find a job now, I'm pretty happy. I don't think this means that I can only be grounded when I'm grimly determined to beat tasks that are unsatisfying into submission, or that being content equals being all over the place. But it does probably mean that there's some renovation going on and that finding out what happy AND grounded looks like will likely be a process for awhile.
  
  

Now, one other thing. Diet. Both of my brothers (and I will proudly mention that they came to this conclusion after investigation that was instigated by a conversation with me) have determined they are "glutarded." I had seen the enormous health benefits of reducing or eliminating gluten when my Jewish family was able to resolve not just skin, celiac, and allergy concerns by taking it out of their kitchen, but were also seeing major improvement in their two children who had sensory based learning differences and/or hyperactivity. I mentioned it to my brothers, and though the notion was initially rejected, they both have become avid gluten-free eaters and have felt better for it. I have been "gluten-reduced" for 4 years now, and have always done full gluten cleanses at least twice a year to try and re-set my system. I may never trip the scales on the incredibly expensive test that medically diagnoses gluten allergy, but I know this: when I limit myself to one serving of gluten a day my energy level and concentration level go up, my skin issues and allergies are decreased. Not eliminated - it's not magic. But I'm less reactive.

It is harder to eat gluten free on a budget - fact. I do better than many because Boulder is pretty much the gluten-free (GF) capitol of the world, but replacing normal every-day items with GF ones is often expensive. I do my best to just take bread out of the equation most days, and have found a good source of oatmeal and rice cakes, that are not certified GF, but hav no wheat products or "natural flavorings" (the bane of anyone trying to track down hidden sources of gluten) in them. But when it comes to things like pizza, waffles, beer, bagels, and my person mainstay - low calorie snack bars (think nutri-grain or cliff bar type items) a person can easily spent $6 - $8 on the GF equivalent of something that for everyone else costs $2.99. So, I admit it - although I'm basically not a bread eater anymore and there is plenty of rice at my house, I need to meter my other carbs a little better. Or, you know, get a job and start being able to put the 8 GF items I enjoy back on my grocery list.

And, now, for the first time in the illustrious history of this blog (ha!) I will make an inside joke for my bestest friend everst's benefit. Rob, I need some FOCUS.