Think Like An Ant

I find that I'm less and less happy with my current quality of life. And it's not one person, job or thing that is making it negative.

What I've decided is that it's my own non choice. My non-choice to prioritize my time makes me feel like a victim to my own schedule. And a victim to my own expectations and the expectations of others. Scratch that, make it the expectations that I perceive others to have on me.

In short, I can't say no. I don't say no enough to the wrong things, and don't say yes enough to the right things. My dad tells me that's the difference between having a job and having a position. You have to work at leaving work at work -- and work on getting actual work done at work.

I have spent a year living like this...and I think this is the point where I raise my hand up and say no more. It's not good for my health. It's not good for my family and not good for me.

I'm thinking like an ant as Dr. Cloud says in The 9 Things You Simply Must Do. The small goal to making this change is to stop working every night from home and start taking a lunch hour.

I'm traveling this week. Heading to Atlanta for a gathering of other child advocates. It's always a great time, but at the same time very overwhelming because there is always so much more I could, should, ought to be doing. I will be thinking of those ants again and hope to at least being doing SOMETHING.

My short term goal this week is to work out or doing something active while I'm out of town. And continue that pace when I come home. My body cannot continue on this diet rich in cortisol.

The secret life of 20-somethings...

I must be getting old. In fact I know I am. I'm working my way through a lengthy piece on the lives of 20-somethings that appeared recently in the New York Times. The reporter looks at the growing trend of people in their 20's avoiding the milestones of "adult life," marriage, career, family, etc.

The article wonders if special protections should be given to 20-somethings and if that time period should be thought of as a new stage in development. Leaving adolescence...not quite making it to be a full-fledged adult. Studies have shown that the frontal lobe of a person's brain (the thing that keeps you from screaming every curse word that comes to mind when standing in line at the grocery or in other polite company) doesn't fully develop until the mid 20s.

But here is what irks me. I get the feeling that this notion of the 20's as some other stage of development operates on the principle that all parts of adult life should be enjoyable. That following your bliss is your main goal in life. I don't disagree with that. But I offer these little nuggets of wisdom...work is work. That is why you get paid to go there some days. Some days it is the only reason I show up. Other days, I would work for free. That's the nature of the game.

And then my question is, how did a generation of people begin to think this way? Is this a result of something Baby Boomer parents did? Is this a function of living in the richest country in the world and simply having too many options? In the past, people left their homes because their parents needed them to work, or start paying their own way and ease the burden. But what now? Are economic pressures driving people back home?

And then from a psychological standpoint: At what point does your life become your own? When do you begin to take pride in what you have earned, independent of your parents or whatever support network you cling to?

To be fair, I must disclose this: I have not lived with my parents since I was 19 years old. Sure, they helped me out, generously paid for my college so I wouldn't have student loans and would have gladly me offer a place to crash when times got tough. I fall into that rare 20-something who was a homeowner before 30. I had a college degree and a job in a related field by 23. That's what I was taught to do. I didn't think that there was an option that included not doing those things.

In my senior year of college after spending a semester in Europe I wanted to go back. I didn't want to go work for the "man" and blindly stumble into the role of an adult that my parents represented: Hard-working, with at the time, seemed like little joy in their lives.

When did the rubber meet the road? When I realized I had a medical condition that would be considered a pre-existing condition if I didn't have health insurance coverage always. I remember a very exasperating conversation with my mother in which I said, "People don't get jobs just to have health insurance..." From the mouths of babes. Life it turns out, is quite the opposite. People take and keep jobs for the benefits.

My solution to this cruel reality: Move far away. If I had to work in the U.S. and had to have health insurance I wanted to do it someplace that felt faraway. So at 22, I packed up my stuff and moved to McAllen, Texas, on the Texas-Mexico border. It was in the United States, but a world away from home. A world away from what I thought my parents wanted for me and all mine. It was extended college...but guess what...I was paying for it.

So in all this, I guess I'm saying to the 20-somethings....suck it up. I know the economy is bad. Living in a "cool" city is expensive. College loans are massive and unfair. But we all make choices and maybe you give up a cosmopolitan lifestyle to play music and live in a cheaper location. Or you work a job that's tough and not your cup of tea because you need health insurance.

Working for a living doesn't mean you don't have time to pursue your passions. We all make choices about how we spend our time.

As a parent, the idea that my son could move home after college for an extended stay with no plan is unsettling. Of course I would welcome him back and provide stability for him to get off the ground, or whatever...but the point of raising a child is that they leave and give back the world.

Yes...I'm getting old. I get the angst, the artfulness, the desire to pursue creative endeavors that drive some from a "traditional career path" But I'm not that old and that far away from it all. Yet, at some point, don't we all have to figure out how to match our monetary needs (bills, bills, bills) with our creative needs....

Sunday Drive

I'm a planner. I like to know what is around the next corner. I want to be prepared and have the right gear, raincoat or whatever I need. Problem is, life doesn't work out that simply. Plans for us, are they predetermined? Divinely. I know so.

I've been thinking too much about the future lately. What will it hold, how will my life change? Seems like I can't stay content with how things are now. I get so far ahead of myself that sometimes I forget to look around me and appreciate where I am. Last year at this time I was obsessing about the details of my wedding. This Christmas I had to fight the urge to obsess about the future, my life, would I have a family. Is there ever a time when we aren't wanting something? What does that feel like? Sometimes this obsessing keeps me from enjoying family, my husband and the life that I've worked hard to attain.

I've realized a few things: I am not meek, but I don't want to work like this forever. I have other skills and I want to be more creative. Yet, being creative is merely doing it, not just talking or thinking about it.

Sometimes I find the only thing that stops the obsessing is prayer. God has plans for me that I haven't even begun to understand or see. He is preparing me for things that I will do, and using the sting of disappointments to keep me steadfast in my faith.

I long for things. I want dreams to come true. Walking through my neighborhood on Christmas Day afternoon with my husband, I realize that I'm not walking these streets alone anymore. I used to make myself go for a walk with my dog. Maybe I thought the fresh air would lift my spirits. I used to see people like me and my husband and wonder if I would ever know that sort of union. A partnership and a commitment. Just when I decided that sacrificing happiness for companionship wasn't worthwhile, someone special came into my life.

I am reminded that God is preparing us for things, unseen. Faith...and I should have more of it these days, and enjoy the scenery.

Well duh...

For the first time in nearly three years I've been at the house by myself all weekend. It's kind of nice not to have be courteous or quiet. But then after I've read all the old periodicals laying my chair and nightstand, it starts to get old. Nobody else is going to get up in the middle of the night and put the dogs out. Nobody else is going to take the trash...reminds me of a song by the Cars..."Who's going to drive you home?"

Beside the minor inconveniences of life that are often eliminated by having a partner in life, I've also realized that I don't like to be the one left out or waiting at home. This is a well duh moment that carries a little more significance for me. I'm always leaving, traveling for stories, working late, having meetings, book clubs and girls night out etc. I have a life outside of my marriage. I try to encourage my hubby to do the same. But I guess I wonder if I really mean it, or just say it to be polite. I'm always calling home and telling him about the exciting things I've done or experienced. It's not often that I'm home, making sure the dogs get fed and the trash gets taken out.

I notice has been a pattern in relationships in the past. I want to the one with a dynamic life, and by all means you should have one too...but can you spare 20 minutes to talk to me or make sure the dogs get fed?

The hardest part of it is not so much the separation. My husband compares to a cat...love me, love me... ok thanks, now go away. The part that is most difficult is that we have separate lives for a few days, We're experiencing different things and not sharing them. It doesn't help that he's in Austin, Texas, one of my favorite cities, seeing great bands, and great friends and I'm not.

Be the Change...

As cynical as I am, I'm always inspired by watching the Democratic National Convention. Every four years, regardless of who the nominee is, I'm inspired to dream bigger, do more and expect less. And when they pull Teddy Kennedy out to champion hope, who can't help but get on board. Unfortunately, it only takes about 24 hours for that to wear off and I get bogged down in the tedious details of daily living.

But what would it take to "Be the change that you want to see in the world?"
What would I have to do? What would I have to forsake and cast off? It's a curious thing to consider and dovetails nicely into a serman I heard Sunday. Are we living, in our hearts as God would want us to? Are we concerned with things that are eternal, not temporal?

I toured a juvenile detention facility today in Tecumseh. Oklahoma is one of the few states in the south where juvenile offenders are given a treatment based program, not a punishment sentence. They are expected to grow, progress, feel empathy and become productive adults. One girl I interviewed killed her mother. Her grandmother, her mother's mother, comes to see this girl every weekend. When she should carry rage, she carries forgiveness. Where she should harbor resentment and anger, she carries compassion and hope for this young lady. Eventually the young woman will leave the center. She will become an adult and she will likely spend the rest of her life trying to explain how she became who she is and how a grandmother cast off her own feelings in hopes the granddaugther would survive. Gives me chills.

As the newspaper industry flirts with downsizing I start thinking over things I could do outside of journalism. None of them for the money. Sadly, I'm not wired that way. I have been taught by my parents and family to serve things greater than yourself. To work for the common good and at the end of the day when you're tired and drained...do it some more. I have veterans, slained Marines and government employees in my lineage. I have a social worker mother who works everyday with the principle that people can change. People can grow and become better. The superintendent at the juvenile facility has seen his share of juveniles who take all the tools given to them and choose a life of crime. He continues to hope and believe that each child will make a different choice. I admire that courage and tenacity. I wonder if I could do more.

I called my Little Brother today. He's in middle school. He told me he's trying to save money to take a trip to France this summer with kids from his school. He's serious. How proud I am that my little brother dares to dream big and think about Paris, France, not just going to the pool over his summer vacation. He likes to cook. He reminds me that cooking at school has to be 'quick and easy.' I'm proud that he has cultivated other interests and frankly I'm proud of his nerdish tendancies. I'd like to think I have a little something to do with that. Teaching him to cook and showing him things. He might seem bored when we go to things like arts festivals or fancy restaurants. I like to think those were learning experiences.

What I admire most about his 6th grade mind, and what I lack in my own life, is the ability to believe in pipedreams.



Be the change that you want to see in the world. --Mahatma Gandhi

Dark Clouds

So I'm brooding and grouchy. Not sure why. Perhaps the BS of a job, any job really, is getting old. The attempts to stab people in the face with information...how can we package this different, better? Does the general public know where Georgia is? We don't want to spoil this Olympic swimming medal haze to actually think about a real crisis.

So there is that. There is the sad fact that I'm impatient. Have been and always will be. Being peppered with questions from people twice my age about things I can only profess to have a minimal knowledge is getting old. I'm getting old, I've realized. I don't care to "expand my portfolio" in an industry that seems to be flailing and bailing water. But I will expand because I love this profession and don't want to be seen as unyielding or unsure of how to progress in an ever-changing world. I tell my boss, "I'll do what you want me to do," but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

How did I get here, I don't know. But the general malaise, is becoming just that, a sickness that I'm quite sick of. I keep thinking of ways to be excited about a professional I've spent most of life pursuing. Maybe it is investing in new technologies and finding new ways to tell stories, different ways. Ways that I must be in control of and be willing to give 12-hours of my time to each day. There's the rub. That is the real root of all this. I'm not lazy, but I'm not interested in investing my free time to a skill, when I'm nearly a third of the way through my life span and I want to invest in things outside of work. There has to be a balance I'm sure, but what I've learned is that I don't know how to balance the time I put into my craft -- something I love.

So there is that. Just ranting. Thank you for reading, all three of you. :)

Dirty little whirlwind

I've hit the point when I'm actually a decade older than people entering the workforce. I've had a few of these realizations lately, one after the other.

It's interesting to think all the stuff they take for granted, all the technology that has been at their fingertips since the day they were born ...in the late 1980s.
Shoot, I was already watching M-TV when you twerpts were still in diapers. Some of these humbling realizations have come like this:

A puzzled look when I said, "Oooh, way to go Doogie Houser."

"Is this Robert Smith? I've only heard the remixed versions of his songs."

(Ugh...everything you like emo comes straight from the hands of Robert Smith.)

"A grill...you know one of those metal things people put on their teeth,"

(Apparently my age, makes me unaware of popular culture? Little do you know I can flow...and wave my arms like Ralph Macchio.)

"Is this Save Ferris?"
(puzzled look) "Who?!"

But here's the deal, this isn't really about age. It's about relevancy. It's about appreciating knowledge and feeling like what you think or now is worthwhile. The dismissal you get when someone assumes you don't understand what a grill is isn't so much an age thing. It's the idea that someone would think that I don't understand the world around me, and at a certain age stopped caring.
When you hang out with people five or ten years younger, it's not about the now, it's about what stays. Robert Smith, not Doogie Houser. I have a hard time having a prolonged conversation with people who have no understanding of the history of punk rock, although mine is limited as well. But I feel the same way about people who don't read a lot or examine what is being spoon fed to them on cable.
So I guess the point is not so much about age, but about thinking about what you consume and evaluating it.

Do it for the joy...

Long week. Work nights. Study days. I realize all that's really happening is that my butt is trading chairs. Sometimes I think I could work nights, but then a morning spent at home makes me think I really don't care if I work at all. Seriously. If I could have enough money and insurance to live well I'd spend my free-time weeding my flower beds, making pie, doing laundry and volunteering for noble causes. And when I volunteer I can say I've had enough and then go home for the day. Only to return with a bright, sunny attitude the next day. I've been working full-time (mostly for newspapers) since I was 21. Now as the 10-year mark approaches I think I would miss it, but not that much. Is there something in you at 30 that slows down and says this is OK? Cause that's where I am. Working nights is most unproductive and studying days is way too productive. I'm about to embark on a new career path and I wonder if I'm just pissing in the wind. Do I give up what I've achieved here or in journalism because I want a job that is different, even if that means starting out by answering phones and making coffee, trying to prove myself again? What's in this for me? Do I have the stamina?

"Would you prefer the easy way? Well, Ok, don't cry." - Ani DiFranco.