Choosing Shoes

A couple of nights ago, my person and I were discussing my blog. I was mentioning that one of my friends had reported she reads my blogs when she can, but sometimes finds certain posts to be more philosophical than she's up for. I remarked, "It's not like I'm writing about the meaning of life or something. My thoughts are pretty commonplace."

He smiled a little smile, shook his head, and said, "Wellllllllll, you come close to some pretty significant deepness sometimes. Even when your posts are about everyday things like, I don't know, choosing shoes, by laying out your thoughts, arguments, process, analysis, things verge on philosophy sometimes."

Well, I don't write about the meaning of life - why would I? It's already been covered adequately by Douglas Adams. I do write about the search for meaning, sometimes very much in the footsteps of writers I love such as Douglas Copeland and Barbara Kingsolver. Maybe even more importantly, I write about the things that make me the best version of myself, what's meaningful to me, and ways to hold myself to that. (It's not that I think my life is more important than the bigger meaning of life in general, just that the only system I can really contribute to or influence on a regular basis is ME so understanding myself well is, in my opinion, one of the better things I can do for the greater good).

But I can write about decision making, and choosing shoes. And since my person teased with the "choosing shoes" example, I laughingly pledged to write an entry about shoes.

Today, I was barefoot for most of the day. That's because it's 101 degrees out and my basement is far lovlier than that so I chose to apply for jobs, cook, do laundry, clean my house, and catch up with a good friend before getting showered and dressed and leaving the house. But when I did put shoes on, surprisingly, I did actually have to think about it - all joking aside. I put on a denim skirt, bright green tank top, and black t-shirt to go out for groceries in. I have great sandals that have green in them but, they are brown - not great with a black shirt. I also have a beaded necklace that is dear to my heart because my girl K-bomb made it for my 5th 29th birthday (I turned 29 for the 5th time last year on my birthday), and it has green and BLACK beads. I have a pair of gorgeous black flowered Alegria shoes that I could get away with. Magically, they are not only cute and distinctive, but orthotically correct without looking like old lady shoes. This is important for someone like me who has hyper-extending joints, bad knees, and feet that like to cramp but who also loves to look stylish. Ultimately, though, if I wore those shoes, it felt like it would be over the top to wear the necklace too. So, I went with the plain black flip flops and rationalized it by deciding: plain, black, soft, open air on my feet, and easy to slip off when I come home, which is good since I just cleaned the floors.

So, there you are, sweetie, some writing about choosing my shoes.

But, there's another way to look at this, which is to look at decision making. We all make decisions all day, all the time, every day. what to bring for lunch, what to watch, how to say something difficult to a loved one, Tylenol or Advil?

I'm unemployed, so I don't make workplace decisions like I used to, but my work days used to be filled with selecting priorities, choosing which things to pass onto other departments and which to solve myself, thinking about and implementing action plans, communicating and setting goals with others, and decision after decision of who, what, when, where, and how. But, even not working, I'm still engaged in decision making every day. Here's a quick example of things I've decided, just today:

• Get up now or sleep a little longer? (I slept because I've had some intermittent insomnia lately and need to catch up where I can)
• Yogurt, banana, hard boiled egg for breakfast or protein smoothie with bananas? (I had a smoothie and a cereal bar because it was fast and used up bananas that were a little over-ripe)
• Shower right after breakfast? (I decided to clean my house first and then shower during the hot part of the day as a way of cooling off)
• What salads should I make? (Kale salad and corn salad)
• Take stuff out to the trash or compost? (Compost because it's experimental at my place right now, and I want to encourage others to do it even if it's a little extra effort for me.)
• Mean note or conciliatory note to the person encroaching on my space. (Neither. Something in between, asserting that I think it's reasonable for me to ask him not to use my space, but also mentioning that I'm checking with the HOA on how they treat that space. I don't want to be harsh unless I know I'm right, and even then, I'd prefer to be on good terms with my neighbors if that can be achieved without being a doormat.)
• How specific should I be about my current relationship while talking with an old friend who once wished he could date me? (Neither vague nor specific since it didn't come up in conversation too much and I didn't feel the need to force it as he told me where he was at with dating, his ex and his ex-wife.)
• Should I buy a cookie while I'm out. (No! I don't need it, and this heat makes me less than hungry)
• Should I stop at the liquor store (No! I recently expressed a plan to drink less beer in order to reduce carbs, don't need the calories, wanted to get home, and I'm broke)
• Bulk almonds or packaged (Easy, same price per pound. Take the packaged ones as a matter of efficiency.)
• Should I get gas today or tomorrow? (Today because I could go by the station where I can use reward points and get gas for less than $3.50 a gallon without going out of my way.)
• What should I listen to? (The Nylons, because I'm in the mood for some music that is upbeat, and has interesting harmonies)
• What song should I post today? (For the Longest Time, The Nylons. Because I love Billy Joel, harmony, and acapella)
• Apply for more jobs this week? (No, I've done 10 apps, and since I have to contact a minimum number of employers/job postings every week, it's actually better for me to save some for next week. Especially since I won't do my best work on customizing resumes and letters right now.)
• In playing Dice with Buddies against my brother, I rolled three 2's, a 1 and a 4. I kept the 2's and rolled again, and got a fourth 2, and rolled my third turn, and did not get a fifth 2. So, play as 4 of a kind (11 points with my 2x4 plus a 3) or in the 2's category (total of all 2's = 8)? (I played in the 2's category since the highest I could have gotten in the 2's was a 10 but the highest I could get in  4 of a kind with 4 2's is 14. The highest possible in that category is 6x5 = 30, though you'd be a fool not to play THAT in 6's or 5 of a kind for 50 points. I reasoned, this way, playing in 2's I'm only 2 points below the best I COULD have done.)

What makes a decision good or bad? Is it getting compliments on the shoes I wore? Getting the best price on almonds? Whether or not I end up beating my brother in Dice with Buddies? Is it the outcome of that decision?

Maybe not, especially not if you think about how even small choices can affect other things. I also think . . . it's hard to consider the weight of any decision in isolation. It may have been a mistake to give up the things I gave up on the East Coast to come here for a fiance who didn't put as much effort into the relationship as I did, but it didn't end up being wrong for me to be here. My job with my former employer was the right thing for me as I was leaving grad school, but ended up not being the right thing for me by somewhere around late 2010. My bestest friend everest regrets not taking me to my prom when I asked, but I ended up with the most amazing, sweet, entertaining, funny, charming, solicitous friend-of-a-prom-date EVER. I may lose my Dice with Buddies game, but winning or losing isn't why I play - I play because it keeps me in communication with my favorite family member.

Outcomes are hard to measure when they keep unfolding in new ways. If you had asked me during Labor Day of 2008 if I was ok being here, the answer would've been, "get me the frak outta here ASAP." But, being here has left me stronger, healthier, more reconciled with myself, knowing my limits and how NOT to push past them, and with a much deeper connection with my loved ones, despite being farther away from them. A year from now, though, I'll have even more information and may look at this completely differently, for better or worse.

For my part, what allows me to judge a decision I make as being "good" or "bad" is more about the process I use to arrive at it. Have I considered the important facts? Have I done the math correctly? Have I not only collected the right data and analyzed it, but made sure to collect enough of it? Have I spent the time needed to feel like, whatever happens as a result of this, I won't wonder if I should have asked different questions, or looked for supporting evidence differently? Have I thought about how the necklace and the shoes work together?

What this looks like for me is spending a lot of time writing, journaling, researching, talking, asking questions, reading, and then trying to see the bigger picture (in fine detail . . . I don't want to lose the trees for the forest, nor the forest for the trees) as I stare at a ceiling or chop vegetables into very small pieces. And, as a result, there are really only half a dozen or so things I genuinely regret in my life. (I don't say that to brag, but only to say that I think if you stop looking at ONLY outcomes, it becomes much harder to regret because what's left to notice is process and ongoing repercussions, that are always unfolding, positive and negative, since nothing is a closed system. ) One of them involves some rope, a closet, and my little brother. The other does involve my career. A third involves a dear friend from college and a vacation house in upstate NY. A fourth, a friendship I didn't keep . . and a couple of others are too complicated (not too private, just too twisty and detailed) to write here.

When I look at those moments in my life . . . there were good and less than good outcomes of each of those decisions in all cases. Maybe, the good and the bad are intertwined, or maybe how things work out or don't work out have more to do with how we react and what outlook we take as things unfurl. It's so hard to say at this point in my life, sitting where I'm sitting, wondering what will happen next and trying SO HARD to be ok with whatever that is. Knowing that I won't know what that looks like until my nose bangs right onto a sliding glass door looking out on that scene.

I say this as a reminder to myself, not a guideline for anyone else. Because I'm in the midst of making some big decisions about my life. Where to live, who to live with, how to make that work, what jobs to look for, how to aim towards them . . . going back to school or not? Whole new career or slight shift in tasks, roles and title but similar function? If the universe is anywhere near as hilarious as it has been in the past, I'll walk part way down the road towards settling these things, and then, simultaneously, after stumbling through a desert, a dearth of options, I'll find myself showered with choices, fruit-basket like, wondering if I should eat bananas or apricots or melon or grapefruits, or or or. I am certain that if I decide to go back to school, that will be the moment I get a job. I am certain that by deciding to re-sign my lease, I'll now find myself considering job options or school options more than an hour south of here.

And when that happens, I'll stamp my flip-flopped feet and gnash my terrible teeth but I'll also laugh and laugh and laugh. None of these decisions are irrevocable, and I have more than a small number of friends who are making bigger decisions, decisions with longer-lasting consequences. Decisions about who should parent their children, or when life begins, or how to be at peace with choosing jail for a lesser sentence over fighting the good fight and losing in the court of public opinion anyways, or bankruptcy, or infertility.

My problems and choices are mine, so of course, they are magnified in my brain. This isn't a bad thing. It means I take ownership of them, and do my best to make sure the things I'm doing add up and don't hurt others if I can avoid it. But, I need to remember that in the larger scheme of things, school vs. job hunting, staying here vs. moving is closer to a "what shoes should I wear" decision than an earth-moving one.

In this vein, the very best I can do is to make decisions in a way that I can look back on and feel good about, even if they don't work out the way I planned. Decisions I can take responsibility for proudly, choices that reflect my convictions and beliefs, and things that are as consistent with the information I have and goals I'm aiming for as possible. I'm learning that my plans aren't always THE PLAN and that the way to feel good about my choices isn't to measure my success in traditional metrics, but to look back and say, "was my process sound? Was the data set robust? Was the analysis one I would arrive at again?" Because we never really know if the choices we make will be what we hoped they were - marriage, shoes, haircuts, dinner menus, jobs, colleges, cookies. None of it.

Wear the shoes that feel comfortable today, and worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Make the kind of decisions that you can live with even if they don't work out as planned because not much does. I stubbed my toe in those black sandals, but, I never thought, "I shouldn't have worn those . . . "

Yes, all, this is me, 6 months into unemployment learning that we can't nail everything down in the order and arrangement we would most like, and if we could, it might not be for the best since we can't ever see the whole scene from where we're standing . . . even if we're wearing heels.

Two weeks

Despite having a masters in Cognitive Psychology I, like everyone else, have absorbed some pop psychology it seems. For years, in my job, it was part of my role to help business owners with their "parent orientations" (read: sales process) and often their insecurities centered on how to explain to parents why their child was starting at a point in the curriculum that was below their grade level. I coached these business owners to talk about how the program expected children to build a habit of doing small amounts of daily work, and that the formation of that habit was aided by them not struggling to do the work, thus easing in was best. I often mentioned how "forming a new habit takes 3 to 5 weeks." Apparently I got this idea from some pretty old research that showed that on average it took amputees 21 days to adjust to losing a limb. As it turns out, depending on the habit and the process used to form it, it can take anywhere from 3 weeks to 9 weeks.

So, it seems, I've given people slightly bent data, but of course, I've been refeeding it to myself too thinking that getting through the first two weeks of my second 365 days self-portrait project was a milestone not just for the project, but for establishing the habit of a daily photo post. I thought, "If I make it two weeks I'm either two-thirds or half there to having this ingrained as part of my day.Do two weeks and then start thinking about more complicated self-portraits, using photoshop, and more involved shoots." Well, maybe, or maybe not. But I can report that while taking the picture has been three times almost-forgotten, I am loving the idea of charting myself in this year-of-christie when I am rediscovering myself, exercising more than I ever have, and (hopefully, hopefully) finding a new job. And, I'm remembering how soothing editing photos is for me. It's better than blood pressure medication or reading myself to sleep. It should probably be a daily activity for the rest of my life.

So, with all of that in mind, here is my first two weeks of 365:2.1.  (Pictures here, and if you click on the links you can see them, and their descriptions on Flickr. the descriptions I've given here are very minimal.) I won't do this all the time on my blog but do want to sometimes cross-pollinate from Empty Calories to 365.

Day 1 - My Birthday

Day 2 - Wanted to see if I could remember underwater techniques

Day 3 - practicing with the Gorilla Pod

Day 4 - My Birthday dinner and my peeps!

Day 5 - Killer sunset collage

Day 6 - My part time gig

Day 7 - some times technology and life conspire in evil ways

Day 8 - Cut Offs

Day 9 - the sloppiest SP ever

Day 10 - Reality. Even though I'm no longer in my "on the road" job I am still on the road a lot.

Day 11 - restoring my computer. Boring for everyone to see, crucial for me.

Day 12 - an amazing Birthday hike with an amazing friend.

Day 13 - apply, apply, apply. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Day 14 - healthy routines

Coming out

I've outed myself a couple of times in online places. Back in February, I admitted on FB that I actually really like Hot Chelle Rae. I know - it's not good music, but it makes me want to MOVE and makes me sing and smile simultaneously. I outed myself long ago as being bisexual, and it was an important point in this post. And a couple of days ago, I admitted the possibility that after all these years proclaiming my extrovertedness, I might be an introvert (gasp!).

Now I'm going to come out on something else. I'm a (mostly) centrist liberal. I'm not registered with either major party (I know, gasp again!) and I believe very much in individual rights. I know that we sometimes have to consider the needs of the many over the needs of the one, but as the balance of how that feels and works tends to vary from person to person, whenever it is possible to uphold the rights of an individual without endangering others, I think that should be the priority. A lot of my politics come down to privacy and individual rights . . . thus, mostly a liberal.

But I'm a liberal who believes that life begins at conception. (I hope you saved some gasps for that.) I will likely be asked to leave the liberal enclave now. I might even be escorted out. Does this mean I have to leave the club? Start listening to different music? Be a suit? I hope not.

I said "life begins at conception" in the long, awkward-sentence way because I am NOT pro-life. (not, Not, NOT!!).

In fact, I really hate the idea that this question can be broken down into two camps at all, but what I might hate even more is the inequality between the two. Pro-life vs. Pro-choice? Soooo, if you believe in a woman's right to choose (or her partner's, for that matter . . . because, I don't know if you know this, but - pssssst!! - men are involved in making babies. I say this because we seem to have forgotten about male participation in pregnancy in this country of late.) you are . . . Anti-Life?

Moreover, a woman who considers an abortion clearly has no respect for life, if things are broken down this way . . . she hasn't, for instance, considered what kind of life that baby would have, if born, or how she would or wouldn't be able to provide for it, health issues, issues about parenting and her partner's involvement. (Sarcasm is dripping heavily now)

I have to be honest here and say every single woman I've known who has considered abortion, much less had one, have had the long view on life and asked themselves not just "how will this impact me?" but "what kind of life would this child have? Am I prepared/ready/able/supported in order to give them the best life possible?" Every. Single. One. (Certainly, there are women who may have abortions blithely, but I don't know them.)

On the other hand, I have never heard someone who was vocally "Pro-Life" (yes, the scare quotes are necessary) clearly answer what should happen to the unwanted, unplanned for children that they think should be born regardless. Their interest seems to end in making sure that the woman cannot get access to a medical procedure protected by law, or that she is intimidated out of it. What happens with that child seems to be someone else's issue to sort out.

Granted, in the last couple of years I haven't asked any of them . . . there were some really scary people who used to gather outside of the building that was next to my Physical Therapist's office. There was a cordoned off area, and 6 times a week, as I drove down and back that street, I saw them very visibly and audibly praying. It took me going during a snow storm to see they the sign they were congregated in front of - "Boulder Women's Clinic" - before I realized they were there to pray away the patients and doctors of that facility. Maybe I should go back and ask them if they have thoughts about what someone who is emotionally and financially unprepared for parenthood should do once their baby is born. Maybe I should ask them if a mother who already has children should lay down her life in the situation where its a health risk for an unborn baby. But instead I limped by in my knee braces and said, "It's nice how your right to scare people is protected."

(And please, let me be clear here. I support their right to pray, just as I support Rush Limbaugh's right to say putrid things about women, or my friend's who did get an abortion having the right to take that action. My issue is . . . if you believe prayers are heard, if you believe prayers are answered, if you believe prayer can change things, then you must also believe that there's no difference between praying at home for abortions to stop, and praying at the doorstep of the abortion clinic. In which case . . . why are you at the doorstep again? Oh, to intimidate people with your prayer. Yes, because the sacred act of praying and communing with God should always include that.)

For me, this came to a head one VERY early morning driving through deepest, darkest Pennsylvania. It was, no joke, like 5am. And as the sun rose over the rolling hills, every mile, on the mile, there was another graphic billboard showing, as it proclaimed, "the results of abortion." I mean, first of all, ick. People have children in their cars. (do the "Pro-Lifers" care about them?) And, also, it was 5am and as a 25 year old, I didn't need to see that. I'm all for truth, and information, but people can get that without it being splashed all over the road. They can go looking for it when it's pertinent to them. As it happens, I was driving to Connecticut that morning having worked late the night before. And I was driving to Connecticut to babysit my foster-brother while my mom went to some function.

And it hit me. What would happen if the pro-choice "side" advertised similarly, showing, "the results of unwanted children." Because, my foster brother was the best case scenario. He was neglected, but as far as anyone could tell, never abused; malnourished, but not unfed. He was developmentally delayed but not irreversibly damaged. And (and this is key) he was removed before his first birthday.

But I know something about babies that people have but don't raise. And I can't think of anything worse than that.

If those beaten, neglected, starved, emotionally-handicapped-for-life children were depicted graphically on billboards supporting Pro-choice you can be sure the "Pro-lifers" would cry foul saying it was overblown, predicting or even marketing abuse, and that the pro-choicers were using pain and suffering for their own political gain.

Umm, hi. Do you not think the woman who chooses abortion feels pain, remorse, regret? And also, dear "Pro-lifers" - whose life are you protecting? Do you have a way to help ensure that child you're insisting needs to be born will have the opportunity to have a good life? What about the woman? Her partner? Her other family? Other children she may be supporting? Yup, this is why "Pro Life" is in scare quotes for me.

So, I support my friends who have chosen abortion. Because children need so much that if you know you can't give it to them, or don't want to, or aren't able to . . . your having had sex, or birth control that failed, or whatever happened shouldn't doom somebody else to a life that can't be what it might have been in different circumstances.

I say all of this, and still admit it: I think life begins at conception. (I think it, but don't know it for sure. And it's important to note, it's what I think, and there's room for other people to think differently.) It would take out a piece of my heart to walk into "Boulder Women's Clinic" with or without the prayer-scarers. It would take very special circumstances too. I don't know what I believe about souls, or God, or "the right to life" (it seems like we are so casual with our other rights, I'm not sure why this right should be more important than others) but I know I think that whatever makes a person a person starts at conception not some magic date later. And still, I don't think it's my government's place to decide that for me, or anyone who may disagree with me. I'm not going to raise the children of those people, and neither are the prayer-scarers, or the "Pro-lifers" so who am I to make that decision for them?

It's also worth noting that . . . it's easy for me to say how difficult or impossible it would be for me to choose abortion since I'll never have to. This is perhaps the upside of having my junk be so jacked up as to be almost totally infertile - I can hypothetically take a hard line because I'll never be in the shoes of the women who actually have to make hard choices about their lives, their childrens' lives, their partners, and quality of life.

So, I'm a life-loving Pro-choicer? A Pro-lifer who protects choice? I'm not sure. But I do know that when issues as complex and personal as this are boiled down to two sides, everyone loses, and that in a free-society we should spend some time reflecting on reasons to make something illegal, not the reasons to legalize something; so I continue to straddle this line but not because I'm wishy-washy but because I object to the line in the first place.

Secret Introvert?

I have some friends and family who are closet introverts. I know them for what they are, but much like people used to use all kinds of not-very-clever euphemisms for being gay and would only say the word "gaayyy" in the "cancer voice" (Margaret Cho's mother comes to mind. "Mommy knows all about the gay! So many! So many Gay, allll over, all over the world. Wahhhh!") I have never much called them out of their safe closets of introversion where they recharge their batteries in peace. This is because our societal norms are pretty judgy about introversion.

Yesterday, I was telling the story of my New Year's Eve 2011(henceforth on this blog, NYE 2011) to a friend who is new to my life, but has taken up space in my heart and life very rapidly. I was describing how, for years, I've helped my besties, my boys who are my family, cook and plan and clean and host and then met their friends (who are fun and amazing people and who have become my friends) at the resultant celebration. I said how awesome it was when MY friend came wanting to see me and meet them but how I had to be a bit of an intermediary. My friend wanted to party, but not stay at the house; while my Robby wanted everyone to stay at the house because in his mind post-NYE breakfast is lazy people in PJs in his living room (yes, that's right - we cook for days and make not only a stunning set of appetizers, dinner, cocktails, and dessert, but breakfast for the next day. A moment of silence for our awesomeness, please). I intervened and said, "I know you want to be an awesome host so make the offer, but if he says 'no' that's not the I'm-being-polite-but-you-can-push-harder signal, that's him saying 'I want to party and then go have some space to recharge as an introvert.' And in that case you need to accept that being a good host means respecting that need."

The new friend I was telling this NYE story to has been married for 3 years, and with her husband for 6 years before. Her husband is very much an introvert so she said, "It's so rare that non-introverts know that. It took me years to learn it and not take it personally."

We're an extrovert-centric culture. My more-than-friend, Rob(by), and I joked for a long time that the last frontier of prejudice was a world that assumed everyone is right-handed, and expects him, a lefty, to adjust everything without complaint. True, desks, scissors, tools, and spiral notebooks all assume use by a righty, and lefties just have to suck it up and learn ambidexterity or other ways to compensate. But it's also true that there are now stores that specialize in making lefties more comfortable as lefties. There are no stores for introverts . . . unless you count Best Buy and Elliot Bay Books as havens for the introvert who just wants to be left the heck alone with their media and their internal process.

The message in our culture regarding introversion is both unsubtle and incorrect, in my not very expert opinion because there is an assumption that being outgoing is preferable in all scenarios and that introverts are the opposite of this: shy. As it turns out, introversion isn't about being shy, or anxious about other humans, it's about where resources and energy go, and where they come from. (As someone who used to be a multi-focal trainer . . . and hopes to be again someday . . I often think about this as the difference between internal training and customer-facing training in an organization. With many of my clients' small businesses I would recommend and even provide training as a means of developing their operations, sales, and other business needs. But internal training was about developing resources on hand, and processing what was happening inside the four walls of that business, and drawing energy and participation from within the group/organization. Customer-facing training is all about putting energy into people outside of "yourself"  - where yourself equals the business/staff/organization in this example -  with the expectation of getting that investment back in increased customers, loyalty, etc. In parallel, introverts do their best work and understand the world best by facing inwards and drawing their energy and motivation from that, and extroverts shine most when they can invest in and be energized by others. )

From, Revenge of the Introvert "While extraverts spend more time overall in social activities than introverts do, the two groups do not differ significantly on time spent with family members, romantic partners, or coworkers. Moreover, extraverts and introverts both report a mood boost from the company of others. For introverts, however, the boost may come at a cost. Researchers have found that introverts who act extraverted show slower reaction times on subsequent cognitive tests than those allowed to act introverted. Their cognitive fatigue testifies to the fact that "acting counter-dispositionally is depleting."

A culture that prizes extroversion and gregariousness often conflates anxiety and introversion, placing not only positive bias on being extroverted, but negative assumptions on not being extroverted. It's nice that experts agree that introversion isn't the same as being shy. It's even more important that we consider what being introverted DOES mean and trying to understand, as this Ted talk says so eloquently, the power of the introverts around us.

Let's be clear, in America we are loud, rowdy, boisterous, and love the person who can party or make everyone feel good. We expect to be entertained at all that we do so we interview people for jobs seeking extroverted characteristics. In my recent interviews I've been asked the following questions:

• Tell me about a time where you had to make a connection with someone quickly
• Tell me about your team work experiences
• What can you say about your strategy for convincing groups of people to ________
• What are your strengths in facilitating groups?

This would make sense, of course, if all of the positions I've looked at were customer-facing training positions, or sales support. But in fact, none of my last three interviews were even TRAINING positions. We assume that our bosses, teachers, co-workers, and leaders should be the life of the party, and moreover, excited to walk in those shoes. We elect a disproportionate number of extroverts and we assume, somehow, that the person who seeks to work alone, be alone, process alone does so because they are too shy to operate as the social butterfly would.


Because we love the extrovert here, and we misunderstand the introvert as being awkward, shy, hard to draw out, unable to connect with people, and thus, somehow socially disabled. In reality, introverts may eschew small talk because they'd rather dig for deeper meanings and connections, they may choose not to go to every party, they may not only crave but need time alone to process and recharge, but they like people just fine, if possibly in shorter doses or via more careful selection.

As one of my closest friends is an introvert, I've actually done quite a bit of reading and considering on the topic of how extroverts and introverts can live together in peace, how to be supportive of introverts around me, and even, how shall we say . . . well, I'll just quote this article, Caring for my introvert(s). My own experience suggests that by respecting boundaries, learning to enjoy quiet, seemingly solitary activities with them (watching TV, studying in the same room, reading), and being very open to real conversation that goes beyond weather and gossip, an introvert will show that they have paid deep attention to what has been said and, sometimes importantly, what has not been said, will share things that reflect deep emotional connection and awareness, and will ultimately let you inside their introspective, quiet place. Introverts aren't about what's on the surface, and part of the bias of an extroverted world is not only judging introverts for not playing the surface-niceties game, but to also judge introverts only by what they show on the surface . . . and there's so much more beneath that layer. My friend from college and I had our deepest talks when alone in a dark lab at 2am or when I was massaging him. (That sounds dirtier than it was. Giving massages was just part of my friendship with him) I know things because I stopped asking-asking-asking and started shutting up and listening.

I did all of this with the idea that I was on the outside of this circle (or to be more accurate, the individual circles the introverts I know have for themselves, and expand oh-so-very selectively, letting others in very carefully).

I knew my college friend as introverted long before it ever came up in conversation, and since the inception of that friendship, I've had a few other important connections with introverts, including the relationship I'm in now. I have two other close friends here in Boulder that are introverts. One of these makes no bones about it - she prefers to spend time with me one-on-one whenever possible so we can deep-talk, and she feels most connected with people in this way and sometimes overwhelmed (not shy, just too stimulated to process) when in bigger groups. The other puts on a great show, and truly is one of the most entertaining people I know, but often reports to me being tired by that. When we were first hanging out, because she is so energetic and hilarious, I worried she wouldn't want to spend time with me . . . that I wouldn't be cool enough. But as I thought of fun things for us to do, time and again she would choose to just come over to my house, eat dinner, talk, and watch TV. Secret Introvert.

One of my brothers is a secret introvert. He often claims, "I hate people." He'll make me come for certain holidays so that I can "buffer." The truth is, he talks about people more than he talks about anything else (including working out, beer, and sex, so that's saying a lot): our sister, our other brother, my mom, his best friend, his best friend's new baby, going out for drinks with my besties which happened, like, 3 years ago. He doesn't hate people - he hates small talk. He hates being "nice" because he isn't (not by most people's limited standards, anyways), and because he has a slow-to-warm-up personality that makes him often pressured or misunderstood. And, after a big family event, he craves retreating to run, read, sleep, watch TV on his own the way my knocked-up friends crave chocolate. Secret introvert.

I have shared a lot with introverts in my life . . . but always thought of myself as an extrovert. But recently, my person sighed and said, "Ohhhh, Christie. You can say you're an extrovert, but you are telling me things that make me think you're an introvert."

This was almost as stunning as when he referred to me as a writer, weeks ago. I've just never considered myself as anything other than extroverted. How much of this is about extrovert-bias and how much is true? It's hard to say since most tests of this personality spectrum from the introvertedy-introvert all the way to the most extroverted there can be are based on either self-assessment or self-reporting or both. So, even if I look at the fact that I always test as an ENFJ (or, in the past, very occasionally as an ENFP) I may be responding to misperceptions of myself, and those perceptions, in turn, may be shaped by extrovert bias. So hard to say since all of the questions on such instruments are open to so much interpretation, which requires comparison, which of course, again, are shaped by biases and bad information.

So logically, let's look at my family: I grew up with two siblings. One is the most extroverted anyone could be; the proverbial social butterfly who places himself in the center of activity at any party, gathering, or family event and can talk and entertain for hours. Alone time seems a punishment to him and so he seeks out shared living (while my other sibling and I have admitted that living alone is our greatest luxury) and careers that require constant contact with others. The other sib is described above - secret introvert. I have one parent who is genuinely miserable when by herself (the textbook extrovert who wants to be out, with others, all the time and when alone picks up the phone ASAP) and had another parent who very much fit the mold of the introverted engineer that he was. It would make sense for me to be either a moderately expressed extrovert or a moderately expressed introvert, not heavily weighted on either side, given this set up. And while early personality-type research suggested that firstborn children were more "dominant" newer research suggests that firstborns are less likely to be extroverted.

Ok, so, not crazy given my family. The next natural thing would be to observe myself . . . except that there are arguments both for and against the present circumstances I find myself in. On the one hand, not working is pretty exceptional for me. I've been working for more than 20 years. And the toll of not working has been difficult, to say the least. On the other hand, there's an argument to be made for looking at NOW as the Christie-in-her-natural-habitat; not responding to others' needs, not running myself ragged for a paycheck, but just being me. Viewed by the former lens, it's easy to discount where I'm at as situation-specific and to say that my tendency for more solitary reflection is about the natural disappointment at being in this position. Viewed from the later perspective, these five months are more telling than the 5 years that came before them.

And the truth is, for the last 5 months, it has made the most sense to me to sit still, to think hard, and to be very, very open about who and what I am. This speaks very deeply of some previously unnoticed introverted tendencies that are nonetheless core to who I am. I like to talk things over with people, but I don't run over to the phone as soon as I am alone, and in fact, I'm quite choosy (some would argue, too choosy) about who I let in . . . and have written about that many, many times on this blog. I also do some of my best reconciling life with myself by staring at a ceiling, or processing solo. I am a multi-tasker so sometimes this means laying on my couch and staring up quietly, but more often it's me being a whirrling dervish of laundry, cooking, cleaning, while turning things over in my head and letting them set down and find a soft landing site. I have never been one for small talk, and right now, it just seems to have no place in the life of meaning and understanding I'm trying to envision and then build . . . from scratch. I just had my birthday and for me the best thing about it was having just a few awesome folks who all liked each other . . . read: no real work for me to facilitate it. I felt tired at the idea of a big party, and excited at the idea of the right group of people and getting to catch up with them and drink beer.

For my person, the argument here is that if I am at my healthiest right now by giving myself the time, and the space, and the reflective alone-ness to understand and make friends with myself, then it is an indication that it might not have been healthy for me to peg myself as an extrovert and then invest myself in passing as one. For me, the image in my head is of the little girl I was in 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade (importantly, old enough to have a recognizable personality, but young enough to not yet have been fully tainted by the expectations of others and the social machine young girls wed themselves to so painfully early) who would clamor to get off the school bus in order to run up the hill, grab an apple, and throw her legs over the arm chair with a book . . . alone. This was the same little girl who had one or two close friends and didn't much care to surround herself with more. It's inconvenient that recalling this also means remembering the bad dresses she wore, and that her mom favored the pig-tails hairstyle but . . . I do this in the name of some unpolluted data.

Even this blog is a mixed case - I am opening the door, at least in theory, for anyone to know the things I write here. But the act of writing it involves a lot of reflection, a lot of collecting data, connecting the dots, navel-gazing about meaning and theory and deeper connections. And I almost never experience more of the person I am or could be than when I'm writing it on this level.

So, pure data isn't so pure. I shouldn't be shocked after my four semesters of graduate level statistics, during one of which the grads all heard the best quote ever, "you can torture your data all you want. sooner or later it will confess to something." I retook the Myers-Briggs personality test again in preparation for this post and found that if I reinterpreted a couple of the questions to fit my current lifestyle (and by a couple, I mean exactly three questions) I tested as an INFJ with moderately expressed I-ness. When I read the ENFJ type that I've so often been reported as, so much of it reads true . . . I am prone to placing the needs of others above my own, I am chameleon-like sometimes, I do have a talent for bringing out the best in others and I am loyal and straightforward, sometimes to a fault. And I read the INFJ description and see pieces of myself there too: I am overly sensitive to conflict, and don't handle it well, I am prone to creative, independent pursuits (ahem! This blog, my 365, and even my previous job which had me running a remote region solo), I do tend to be overly orderly and I do, indeed, hold fast to values and find myself prioritizing and re-prioritizing in order to make sense of my world. (Again, Ahem! This blog).


It is also true that I love my friends and positively light up around them and that after processing on my own, or taking my long walk, or reading and writing, or immersing myself in ideas, I want to share with them. I want to affect others, I want to influence and be influenced, and importantly, I am energized by others . . . if it is the right others. Maybe I'm just a miserably picky bastard with trust issues. Or . . . maybe I'm a secret introvert. Like the number of licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop, the the world may never know . . . and it may never be important. But, if it's a secret I've kept from myself, I'll be watching to see how thinking outside of the "extroverts are excellent" box  changes how I see myself.

The story of this blog

Out of the mud, grows a lotus. 

This is literally true, of course. But more figuratively, this is mentioned and quoted in different ways in Buddhism. Thich Nhat Hanh was quoted as saying, "There is the mud, and there is the lotus that grows out of the mud. We need the mud in order to make the lotus. "

At the moment that we're in the mud, of course, we don't think about the lotus. We think about the cold, the mess, and the feeling of being stuck. From down in the mud, beneath even the water, and the algae, the mud doesn't feel good, and it's difficult to see the flower that isn't yet.

But, creativity and pain correlate. Beethoven lead a miserable life, and (not BUT but AND) produced some of the worlds most recognizably moving classical music. It is the foundation of so much music that came after it. Writers, artists (just look at Frida Kahlo), most anyone with a creative bent will acknowledge that even if they were not able to produce at the moment they were in the mud, they were inspired by the time they spent down there.

It's not really any different for me. I mightn't ever produce things that move or reach people as much as the artists I know best for being inspired by and then out-stripping their pain in order to create, but all of my biggest creative projects came from distress.

My 365 photo-a-day self portrait project came from the realization that grieving the loss of my father and my relationship in one fell-swoop had shut me off to living and knowing the new and beautiful place I was residing in, and because I tried to mourn both at once, I had done neither properly.

My best poems were about that processing.

And this blog . . . well, it came from recognizing the need to, as the wonderfully wise Pema Chodron says in her best book, "lean into the sharp points of life."

Recently, a friend asked me about this blog. Why I started it, what inspired me, how I held myself to such a high standard of honesty and where my topic ideas "come from." She said she felt she was creative and prolific when it came to fiction writing but was having, "a difficult time when it comes to writing about 'real life.' I know the question might be a bit simplistic, but am really curious, and value your opinion as a fellow writer."

Well, first of all, anyone referring to me as a "writer" flatters me more than I can say. I think of myself mostly as a hack who can't keep herself from begging for attention. So, being included in the "fellow writer" circle with someone who had the guts and talent to go the hard road of getting a degree in writing is a sure bet to make me blush.

I gave her advice that may or may not have been satisfying, but also told her the story of this blog, at least partially.

This blog was in my head for months before it was ever on this site. And . . . even when it was one this site, I wrote three or four posts before I announced it on Facebook . .  . thus allowing everyone to see it, and then show it to everyone else. If I think very carefully, this blog started with a piece I wrote for a friend's book about a year before I ever wrote the first post.

This friend is an incredibly talented chef, and when her family began getting various diagnosis where diet changes could make a big difference, she made the command decision to do a full cleanse. As a family that was already Orthodox Jewish, and thus, keeping Kosher, dietary limitations weren't news in her house, but she then added on top of that: wheat free, gluten free, and dairy free. And yet, she magically makes some of the most amazing meals and baked goods I've ever had the pleasure to eat. In a series of long and long-distance conversations, she shared with me that she wanted to write a book. Not just a cookbook with recipes, but essays, research, and discussion on the benefits of eating and cooking your own food, how to do a cleanse and determine food sensitivities, and how to plan meals and events with this lifestyle of mindful eating. I had been experiencing a complete mental road block on the poems I was writing (see above) and found myself one night sitting at my neighborhood pub, drinking a beer, and just gushing out hand-written paragraphs about how eating and health aren't or shouldn't be disconnected from our other life choices. It was edited as an intro to her book.

But it got me thinking about how food worked for me, or didn't. It stayed on my mind and I found myself watching myself from the outside.

Then, another friend inspired me. One of my mommy friends started a blog writing about her family, the intentional and mindful child-rearing decisions she was making, health, and finding balance in her life as a mom and still being a person outside of that. I can't link to it because she ultimately decided to end the blog and give that time back to her family, but the simple, clear, straightforward way she spoke to these topics was compelling enough that I read it eagerly despite being a non-mom. It also taught me that real life doesn't have to be spectacular or exceptional to be interesting.

I carried these ideas and inspirations with me for several more months though, before doing anything with them.  I tentatively started a list of possible topics, but couldn't quite make the leap to writing anything online that others saw. What I found though, was that I started to notice myself from the outside with regard to those topics. One of the first ones on the list was "Perfect is damaging." What's ironic about this is not just where this topic arose from, but that it has yet to be written! The act of putting that topic idea on a list caused me to notice things about it, and it spawned other topics. As I started to observe myself, and how I made day-to-day decisions around those topics, how I thought about them, how I would reason them out if I was discussing them with a close friend, other things started to drift up against those ideas. Quotes. Things my friends said or did. Something I saw or heard in a movie. Some of these things, in turn, got re-purposed into other topics when the ideas got too big to be under one umbrella. Before I knew it, I had a list of 15 or so ideas and some skeleton structure for where I would go with them.

And still I didn't do anything.

It really wasn't until August of last year that I had the will to write and post. And at first I let just a few, select, people in on those posts. (One of my friends who had seen my 365 creative efforts on Flickr, another friend who had a secret blog, and a third friend I discovered had a blog on this site.) The right questions to ask was EXACTLY what my young writer friend asked - what motivated me to do it? What pushes me to be this publicly honest? She remarked that she knew her question was "simplistic." The answer is simple, but in the discipline of doing this, nothing could be less simple.

I was finally moved to do this because I was hurting inside, and the jagged pieces were no longer ignorable. I was faced with a choice of numbing myself and furthering the feeling of being broken and having jagged, broken edges poking me from the inside, wounding me further, or leaning into the pain and letting it teach me and guide me to new places. I chose the latter, but it meant acknowledging the mud I was in.

That mud included far too many dysfunctional relationships. I was not merely dissatisfied at work, I felt . . . misled and neglected to the point where neglect becomes passive abuse. I was noticing addiction everywhere in my loved ones. And I was in a romantic relationship defined by lies and denial. It hurt, but more than that, it made me sick because my engine runs on integrity and honesty and the chance to learn and contribute to making things better. I had sugar in the gas tank, which is a sadly hilarious metaphor since sugar was part of what I turned to in my brief stint of trying to deaden the ache.

It didn't work of course. And so, I did a bunch of things. I started going to a 12-step meeting for the loved ones of addicts, I got myself a therapist, I looked long and hard at a proverbial mirror and tried to come to terms with my beliefs and my needs, and I created some systems of accountability and honestly with myself, including this blog. I told my "fellow writer" friend that, "I started this blog at a time when I was facing a lot of dishonesty. Dishonesty at work, dishonesty in what is now my previous relationship. I was seeking more open doors." I truly felt like it was the element in my life that was lacking, like not getting enough sun or water. So, I decided I needed to BE the change I wanted to see. I had no idea how far I was going to have to reach down to do that, and so the other piece of this story is that when I find myself hedging around something now, I imagine my (incredibly loving, generous, extremely tiny and fierce) grandmother saying, "Now, Christie. Is that the whole truth?"

The short story is, we can be moved by the art, the ideas, the things happening around us, the people who teach us and show us new things, and I am. But I had to be in the mud to make a go of this kind of writing. As much as it feels like a bruise on my soul to be writing this post five months after losing my job with no new career in hand, I was far more wounded and far less functional and healthy on August 27th, 2011 (9 months ago, with a job!) when I first sat down to write something here. I know I am a better version of me now, I know the things that aren't ideal will change and change again. I know more about who I am, and who I can be, and what lengths I will go to to make that positive and meaningful, and I see myself in a much kinder light. I know everything is impermanent and I'm learning how to breathe through that. I know that I bruise easily, but that as thin as my skin sometimes is, the rest of me is tough and keeps going.

The long story is the tale of a blog that started with an idea about accountability, eating mindfully, exercise and health, and became a blog about the work of looking at myself, health in much broader terms, and the occasional post about zombies.

You know how people who lose 200 pounds always say, "I'll never go back to that. This feels too good." There is more behind that story. There is also the fact that there are days where it has to also be true that it doesn't feel good. Where putting the time in at the gym is the last thing they want to do. Where all they want is ice cream. But they know how working past those hard moments makes them better able to enjoy everything else, gives them more opportunities to feel good. Because when we dampen down pain, we aren't able to selectively anesthetize just pain. We shut out out good things also. That's me. It doesn't always feel good to feel all of my feelings. It's harder than going to the gym (which, let's be honest, I still don't always like doing). But it is better than being dishonest with myself, knowing that that leads directly to accepting dishonesty and dysfunction from others. And it makes me better equipped to feel and see and accept good things in my life. Sometimes leaning into the sharp points of life is like using sandpaper to uncover the natural beauty in the wood grain and shape us into something even better.

So, in that vein, I've decided to bring back another venue of creativity, structure, accountability, learning, outlet, and feedback into my life.

Welcome all to the first day of my second 365 (well, ummm, second in terms of it being version 2.1 since I did start a second 365 in 2010 and then . . . failed to finish it.) with a photo collage acknowledging that this is not just my birthday but the fourth anniversary of my residence in Boulder. I hope you enjoy it because I got up at 5am to make this happen!

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)

------


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.