A Year of Following My Intuition

Sometime after the first of the year last year, I decided that I was spending too much time "hamstering" (see upcoming post about My Isms) about certain work-related choices. It's like the cobbler's children that have no shoes, sometimes I'm not very good at following my own advice. So I decided that I would try to make more conscious decisions and choices in line with what I know I really want to be doing. Huge leap of faith for me to consider leaving behind some "safe" choices, things that are known to me. I first started by spending less time intellectually considering decisions ("it's a lot of money; this could be good for my career; it's the next natural progression...") and paying more attention to how I felt when a choice was before me. Without fail, there was always an immediate reaction. One that I would often ignore in favor of all the intellectual pro- and con-ing. I started to tune out the header "chatter" and pay attention to how I felt about a decision as I was making it. Did I have a sinking feeling in my stomach? Or did I feel good about it?

And let me tell you, really good things have started to happen. I almost don't want to make too much of a big deal out of it and jinx myself, but wow! The more I am saying "no" to the things that aren't part of my journey, the more things are coming to me that are a part of my "true north." So, I'm planning to keep it up and see where else this is going... I'm in for the ride now.

Sickness (of the body and mind)

After all these years, I still haven't been able to gracefully incorporate the role of illness (mine or other family member's) into my life. I want to think I can be more Zen about it after all these years. I envy the friends I have who, when sick, hunker in, fire up the DVR and sleep for two days. However, at the first sign of a sore throat, anxiety grips me. Oh, the woe it will bring to my schedule if it becomes an illness of consequence! The schedule is like a house of cards- move one and it's all over. And, I must admit, part of this anxiety comes from the feeling of responsibility (?) and fact that, if I don't work, I don't make money. It's just the nature of my career. Along with the incredible flexibility of schedule is this fact- I'm no salaried girl.

Would that I could be like the rest of the world and just be sick. That I could just take a break knowing that I will catch up, appointments can be rescheduled, the world will not stop turning. But, yet, every time, it feels as if the world is putting on the brakes. And, let's examine the obvious: perhaps I am sometimes becoming sick to force myself to take a much needed break and slow the schedule a bit. After all the years of holistic healing and self-awareness cultivation, you would think I could just cut out the middle man, give myself a break, and not have to have the divine powers-that-be enforce that break. You would think...

For now, I continue to chant my mantra, "My health is the most important thing... Nothing is more important..." Luckily, spring is in the air and the illness(es) of the winter seems to be receding from our locale. Now to just avoid that crazy Swine Flu...

The Elsewhere People

I started writing this post several months ago, so not exactly news-worthy at this point, but my commentary continues...

I found out recently that I am part of a new class of people- the Elsewhere Class. I read this in a Newsweek article by Dalton Conley, author of the book "Elsewhere, U.S.A." (January 26, 2009) Maybe my interpretation is not exactly what Mr. Conley meant, but it really fits. Let me tell you about the Elsewhere Class.

We are constantly moving between the "blended world of work and leisure, home and office." Nicely put, Mr. Conley. But that specific word- blended- implies to me that there is a cohesive melding of those worlds. Feeling more like oil and water, I can relate better to his statement that "today's professional, by contrast, is constantly dogged by a feeling that he or she should be "elsewhere"- back at the office, at the party full of potential clients, home with the kids or at a social function with the spouse." Amen to that, brother!

Will I constantly be plagued by the feeling that what I'm doing in each area of my life is either a) not the right thing for the moment, or b) never quite enough? Will this feeling diminish when my daughter is safely tucked away in school for most of the day (oh, dread and joy simultaneously!) and I know I have certain hours in which I can solely concentrate on all things work, uninterrupted?

Mr. Conley presents that in Elsewhere, U.S.A. the home is more like the office and vice versa. The lines are blurring because of less defined gender roles, income inequality (in addition to an overfed keepin'-up-with-the-Joneses symdrome), and ubiquitous availability of technology. And what do you do when the home is the office? Balance away... Now where do I sign up to work at Google? Laundry service? Massages? Free food, beverages and gym? I'm in!

Squandered?

I was working at a coffee shop the other day, preparing for a next meeting, and two women came in with their young children. They looked like this was the very purposeful outing of the day, a time to get together with a friend and to get the kid out of the house. The two kids were young enough that they were just learning to navigate the whole self-feeding world, purposely putting hand-to-mouth, and hoping to catch some food in the process. Very adorable.

I had a momentary pang- did I miss the boat? Did I squander my stay-at-home days with my daughter? Did I forsake that kind of organic flow of the day for meetings, preschool, and other commitments? Have a I rushed too quickly back to the working world?

Oh, but then I remember: I had those days. I wasn't very happy. It was a little bit maddening and I felt like I was constantly searching for my higher purpose (I couldn't quite ever settle into the thought- and this is strictly for myself and not others- that the only thing I was supposed to be doing was raising my daughter, as important as it was... and still is; it's my own hang-up). And I also now remember: I still have those days. At least two days a week I am free to meet friends for lunch. And I don't have to change out of stretchy pants if I don't want to. We can change princess clothes as often as needed. And I am sole controller of our "flow" those days.

I am excessively grateful that I have had the choice, to work or stay home with my daughter. I know too many who don't have the choice and fully realize the challenge of that. I am also excessively grateful that, on most days, I have this incredible balance that feeds all parts of me.

But I just wonder some days, what would it be like to be with my daughter everyday, all day?

Just A Minute

"Just a minute" is a phrase that runs rampant through my life... and causes me no end of grief. There was a time when it used to be an innocuous placeholder- "Just a minute and I can answer your question, give you my thoughts on that, address the next issue, etc."- but now it is an encumbered phrase in my life. The first layer it carries has to do with working at home and time spent with my daughter. "Just a minute" is most often uttered when I am trying to answer a client email or some other computer-related task and pay simultaneous attention to my daughter. As in, "Just a minute, honey. Mommy needs to answer this one last email before we..." I suppose it is the equal peril of the work I do and trying to fit too much into too little time (more on that later). In that particular circumstance, the uttered phrase is followed by stabs of guilt coursing through my body, wishing I didn't have to put off my daughter a minute longer. Can I appease myself by saying it is a beneficial lesson in patience for her? She seems no worse for wear... The second layer it carries is annoyance. I am a person that prefers to execute tasks in a sequential manner. I think better- more clearly- when an issue or project is addressed in its discrete parts, from beginning to end. The constant interruptions do nothing for my productivity and feelings of satisfaction. There was a recent study that reflected that people do have less concentration and perform less well when multitasking. It does nothing to solve my current problems of having to split my day into slivers of work and home life. But it does validate my feelings on a certain level.

The last layer is the feeling of resignation. One of the phrases that has served me well as I navigate the waters of parenthood is, "It is what it is." And that most appropriately applies to this situation. Working part-time and out of my home some days allows me to be with my daughter. Having time with my daughter means that I will often be completing tasks in interrupted increments. It is what it is. There is also another kind of "just a minute," often uttered while talking to a friend on the phone, when my daughter has asked me a question or requires me to address a need. As in, "just a minute, I need to assist with the potty, help with a princess dress change, switch a DVD, etc..." Again, I feel guilty that I cannot provide my undivided attention. I like to be the friend who can listen, reflect, respond. But some days you're lucky to just get me on the phone. Period. And luckily, I have wonderful friends, most of whom (all of whom?) understand this circumstance. Every so often the irony hits me: professionally, I often counsel clients on issues of time management and life balance. But, like the shoemaker whose children have no new shoes, my own life balance occasionally suffers. I know that this is a time-limited circumstance. In a few short years I will be lamenting these days of unstructured time spent with my daughter. Until then, "just a minute" will serve me well.

Some days...

Some days I wonder why I even do this juggling act.
Some days I think the things I do or the money I make are hardly worth the effort.
Some days it feels like two steps forward, one step back (at least it's forward motion...)
Some days I wish my daughter could dawdle through her morning- every morning- to her heart's content.
Some days I feel like I would be a more gentle parent if we had fewer places to be.
Some days it just feels complicated.
Some days I'm just exhausted.

And some days it works.
Some days I make a difference in a client's life.
Some days it's like a well-choreographed ballet.
Some days I notice how much my daughter loves the time she spends with her Grammy and Papa.
Some days I'm so proud of how independent she is becoming.
Some days I notice we get along better when we spend some time apart.
Some days the work I do gives me great joy and satisfaction.
Some days it feels easy and right.
Some days the balancing act is all worth it.

Some days...