So the crazyness that was OSA this past week - 2 weeks - has hopefully sudsided for at least a couple of days. The idleness is ever present (until the boss reports back in a few days or so), but the efforts we put into some mediocre fundraising, and assembly of a tight press kit for our boss' Board Meeting yesterday is sufficient, in that's its finished; and in the words of my coworker (in a positive mindset here) "what can you do?"
What CAN you do? So much of our lives is uncontrollable - or is it? The law of attraction is a Newtonian-esque approach in that what we give, we get. I do not believe it is as absolute as the science describes, it is not always equal. But then again, humans are not equal or symmetrical like fixed objects; we are organic, free-flowing beings, made up of wonderfully systematic and methodical particles, particular to certain logistics, but overall we are evolving in ways beyond the mathematics of things.
My coworker was accurate in his pondering - we cannot control another person's actions; we can do our very best and give forth all we have, but at the end of the day, it is the combination of efforts in the workforce that generates a working progress. "What (else) can you do?" It was a defeating and uplifting sentiment all in one. My mother-in-law visited a couple weeks ago and shared a similar perspective I hope to carry always: "Enjoy today, because you are as young as you will ever be." The world shifts, things grow, people grow or remain stagnant. Reactions are important as when they do not happen, because a lack of response is an action in itself. Work-wise, the most I can do is my very best, and hope that the best outcome, the most honest outcome will reside for an organzation full of heart. Sometimes, we try our best, and the best result is whatever genuinely occurs after that fact.
School begins tomorrow, and I can't help but attribute this same feeling towards classes and the field in which I will work in the near future. As a therapist, it will not be a goal of mine to control what someone does. I can create timelines for our meetings, and offer them homework assignments to gain control over their own life. I can control the kind of rapport to a certain extent as well, but in the mind of MY actions. The best kind of relationship client-patient will not necessarily be fixed, but goals for it will be discussed during our first meeting(s). I may end up deflecting a client relationship when/if the (un)control enters the session work negatively. It could be best for the client's outlook that we are not working together in a professional setting. There may be a fine line between these difficult choices, but I believe the line is there - it may just take some proactive digging to define it.
Ultimately, I am in a great place. Whatever work is doing to me right now, I am doing to it. Despite the decisions made to continue (for the organziation, or for myself), as my boss puts it, "it's just a job." I can make the job of whatever I put in, and the same goes for my personal life. The dog is happy (and ever 'puppying' herself), the husband is well (and ever supporting me), and the future is reachable (however we choose to create it - like the choice to buy a house and have kids nearing). Life is good!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
a leave of absence
I was going to title this blog "sabbatical," as there has been significant time off between now and my most recent rant. I was then going to title it "vacationland," - a quip on my excursions professionally, academically, personally, mentally, physically and so forth over the past couple of months, simultaneously highlighting Maine's glorious tag line that welcomes you as your cross the state. However, there was truly no vacationing as it would have indicated. Times are busier than ever -- in all the above listed areas! Synonyms for sabbatical included "withdrawal" which seemed too negative to pinpoint as my succinct return.
Leave of absence indicates the time, the multi-faceted presence of, well, absence. (Apparently my mind is still gone.) There has been a sufficient lack of schooling over the past two weeks - what does one expect of me when I do not type as often?! Work, however, has increased ten-fold. As mentioned last time, I am working with a struggling nonprofit, strengthened as I have learned, only by the passions among our staff - which is very few. We will be gaining a handful of interns for the summer, and will hopefully be welcoming back a couple of employees (who took their own leaves of absence - directly work related or no). This coming first week of May is our biggest fundraising effort yet. Not necessarily our biggest target for particular financials, but certainly our biggest output in getting our OSA name out there. Especially to the city of Philadelphia. What we're learning (ever slowly) is the harsh, hard feel of Philadelphians, residents and businesses alike, and figuring out our sell. Being so new to the City of Brotherly Love, OSA has mountains to climb before our name matters to these pholks. We're climbing, and hopefully after mid-May will still be on the ascent.
With more events and larger risks, my job at the organization has acquired a vast amount of responsibilities, including the daily reconnect with my boss who bases a lot the overall energy in the office on my disposition. A coworker happily referred to my attitude as a duck -- calm on the water, and feet paddling fiercly underneath -- which I felt was an apt analogy. I have always allowed my style of leadership to be second-to-one. Not to feel like I am inferior to another, but that my niche suits me well with that one supervisor a step ahead, or a step diagonally asking me for my better judgment. I feel in this niche with my boss, but as she intends to step back on her role for family, I figured the day was coming when she would propose a role shift for me to step even more into the "staff operations" limelight -- and today that day came. I have been given time to assess and report back to her; much of my decision will be based on the next few days in the office with pressures mounting on this week event we have beginning on Sunday. Today, I know that I do not desire the event-overseeing type of responsibilities with such a role, but I welcome the opportunity to manage. I am a bit of a vulnerable sap, and with the younger staff we have it may work to my advantage to develop this harder shell longitudinally.
I hope the following week brings us fortune in output, relationship-building, and sense of security. I trust that my thoughts at work and at home will offer me the chance to clarify my goals for our organization as a team and for myself.
I do not want to forget the kind of career I set out for myself when beginning school. Nonprofits thrill me in the their energy, but rebuilding one has been daunting. Acknowledging our stark weaknesses even more. I still believe what we create for our lives is as important as those who enter and shape it. Give me a bit more time on this, and I hope to create the life I want for me above anyone or anything else. Question is: will I most easily separate "me" from anything I create in regards to another entity like OSA?
Leave of absence indicates the time, the multi-faceted presence of, well, absence. (Apparently my mind is still gone.) There has been a sufficient lack of schooling over the past two weeks - what does one expect of me when I do not type as often?! Work, however, has increased ten-fold. As mentioned last time, I am working with a struggling nonprofit, strengthened as I have learned, only by the passions among our staff - which is very few. We will be gaining a handful of interns for the summer, and will hopefully be welcoming back a couple of employees (who took their own leaves of absence - directly work related or no). This coming first week of May is our biggest fundraising effort yet. Not necessarily our biggest target for particular financials, but certainly our biggest output in getting our OSA name out there. Especially to the city of Philadelphia. What we're learning (ever slowly) is the harsh, hard feel of Philadelphians, residents and businesses alike, and figuring out our sell. Being so new to the City of Brotherly Love, OSA has mountains to climb before our name matters to these pholks. We're climbing, and hopefully after mid-May will still be on the ascent.
With more events and larger risks, my job at the organization has acquired a vast amount of responsibilities, including the daily reconnect with my boss who bases a lot the overall energy in the office on my disposition. A coworker happily referred to my attitude as a duck -- calm on the water, and feet paddling fiercly underneath -- which I felt was an apt analogy. I have always allowed my style of leadership to be second-to-one. Not to feel like I am inferior to another, but that my niche suits me well with that one supervisor a step ahead, or a step diagonally asking me for my better judgment. I feel in this niche with my boss, but as she intends to step back on her role for family, I figured the day was coming when she would propose a role shift for me to step even more into the "staff operations" limelight -- and today that day came. I have been given time to assess and report back to her; much of my decision will be based on the next few days in the office with pressures mounting on this week event we have beginning on Sunday. Today, I know that I do not desire the event-overseeing type of responsibilities with such a role, but I welcome the opportunity to manage. I am a bit of a vulnerable sap, and with the younger staff we have it may work to my advantage to develop this harder shell longitudinally.
I hope the following week brings us fortune in output, relationship-building, and sense of security. I trust that my thoughts at work and at home will offer me the chance to clarify my goals for our organization as a team and for myself.
I do not want to forget the kind of career I set out for myself when beginning school. Nonprofits thrill me in the their energy, but rebuilding one has been daunting. Acknowledging our stark weaknesses even more. I still believe what we create for our lives is as important as those who enter and shape it. Give me a bit more time on this, and I hope to create the life I want for me above anyone or anything else. Question is: will I most easily separate "me" from anything I create in regards to another entity like OSA?
Friday, February 11, 2011
and then there was love
Hard to believe it's been over one month since I last made a post. "Busy" may be one of my mom's least favorite words, but for certain life has been chaotic these last four weeks!
Now over two weeks into February, and it's already smelling like Springtime. Who's in love, here? Yesterday alone, I was able to go to work in a skirt, jean jacket, and flats, beginning at 7am! Granted there's still small piles of snow on the ground, so it is a bit of a mystery outdoors..."Work", you say? Indeed, I am employed again (!) and it is a position at an organization that I get up excited to go to work for. I have even brought some things home to work on over weeknights, or checked into my email on the weekends to resolve any lingering issues, and I couldn't be happier with the kind of work that I am doing.
Some of you may remember from a previous post in December that I met with the woman who has been heading up the non-profit, Orphan Support Africa, by her lonesome essentially for the past year and a half. She met with me, and as it turned out, half a dozen other wonderfully, philanthropic individuals either also on "sabbatical" or seeking an altruistic component within their lives. As a result, we're now in working order to successfully turn OSA back around by obtaining great funding resources and initiate our Philadelphia connections, since the headquarters also moved relatively recently to the city of Brotherly Love. All in all, it's been an incredibly encouraging six weeks to be a part of something with which I can attribute self-worth and the worth of its cause.
Valentine's Day was this past week, also, and let me just provide a small recap of what we did. NOTHING. And this "NOTHING" is not written about angst or frustration, but the sort of "NOTHING" which indicates a glorious amount of timely waste involving only our existing love for each other, without the societally-driven incessant need to spend and prove it to each other. Don't get me wrong, I actually like the idea of Valentine's Day, but like most other holidays we celebrate, why just limit to that one day? Mike did actually make reservations for sushi on Sunday, and we trekked out to the barren Olde City for an early-bird meal. Quaint and tucked away, we walked into the restaurant, and did enjoy ourselves a night full of sashimi and some heavy, married discussions about our nearing future plans. As far as our usual date nights go, it was the norm -- and I don't consider that a bad thing. I think the specifications of what Valentine's is supposed to mean goes against how we treat each other all the time: as two loving partners enduring a life together. Following on Monday night, the actual V-day, was truly about nothing; we went to work, I went to class, I came home, and we passed out by 9:30. Real love at its finest.
(**Note: blogger reports I published this on 2/11, but it was in fact 2/19 - thus why the Valentine's Day stuff is written as "this past week"!)
Now over two weeks into February, and it's already smelling like Springtime. Who's in love, here? Yesterday alone, I was able to go to work in a skirt, jean jacket, and flats, beginning at 7am! Granted there's still small piles of snow on the ground, so it is a bit of a mystery outdoors..."Work", you say? Indeed, I am employed again (!) and it is a position at an organization that I get up excited to go to work for. I have even brought some things home to work on over weeknights, or checked into my email on the weekends to resolve any lingering issues, and I couldn't be happier with the kind of work that I am doing.
Some of you may remember from a previous post in December that I met with the woman who has been heading up the non-profit, Orphan Support Africa, by her lonesome essentially for the past year and a half. She met with me, and as it turned out, half a dozen other wonderfully, philanthropic individuals either also on "sabbatical" or seeking an altruistic component within their lives. As a result, we're now in working order to successfully turn OSA back around by obtaining great funding resources and initiate our Philadelphia connections, since the headquarters also moved relatively recently to the city of Brotherly Love. All in all, it's been an incredibly encouraging six weeks to be a part of something with which I can attribute self-worth and the worth of its cause.
Valentine's Day was this past week, also, and let me just provide a small recap of what we did. NOTHING. And this "NOTHING" is not written about angst or frustration, but the sort of "NOTHING" which indicates a glorious amount of timely waste involving only our existing love for each other, without the societally-driven incessant need to spend and prove it to each other. Don't get me wrong, I actually like the idea of Valentine's Day, but like most other holidays we celebrate, why just limit to that one day? Mike did actually make reservations for sushi on Sunday, and we trekked out to the barren Olde City for an early-bird meal. Quaint and tucked away, we walked into the restaurant, and did enjoy ourselves a night full of sashimi and some heavy, married discussions about our nearing future plans. As far as our usual date nights go, it was the norm -- and I don't consider that a bad thing. I think the specifications of what Valentine's is supposed to mean goes against how we treat each other all the time: as two loving partners enduring a life together. Following on Monday night, the actual V-day, was truly about nothing; we went to work, I went to class, I came home, and we passed out by 9:30. Real love at its finest.
(**Note: blogger reports I published this on 2/11, but it was in fact 2/19 - thus why the Valentine's Day stuff is written as "this past week"!)
Monday, January 10, 2011
just something about some things
Over a week into January?
School begun tonight. 3 classes this semester! Good, relaxing weekend past, hopefully the next, and then Boston for the 2nd to last of this first month.
A roast marinating tonight in the fridge, to be put in the crockpot for dinner tomorrow.
Windsor asleep on her bed, and Mike finishing up a football game before we call it a night.
Just some observances from my kitchen table, as I look forward to a full week!
School begun tonight. 3 classes this semester! Good, relaxing weekend past, hopefully the next, and then Boston for the 2nd to last of this first month.
A roast marinating tonight in the fridge, to be put in the crockpot for dinner tomorrow.
Windsor asleep on her bed, and Mike finishing up a football game before we call it a night.
Just some observances from my kitchen table, as I look forward to a full week!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
1+1+1+1 = ?
January 1st! Happy New Year. Apparently, I was anxiously awaiting this day to ensure that my writing another post would in fact happen in '11, and here it is. No worries, nothing of incredibly noteworthy importance, but it's nice to be sitting at my desk with a second cup of coffee at nearly 3pm, having been allowed to sleep until 11:30 this morning by my husband(!), and to be enjoying another two (well, 1.5 now) days of relaxing with Mike and the dog until the "Monday grind" begins again...
Well, Christmas was a wonderful collection of family and fun this year, as it normally is, but this year like Thanksgiving, our first as a bethrothed newlywed pairing. Windsor also really enjoyed getting to see her friend, Mike's family dog, over the break and teasing one another by dangling toys in front of each other to engage in a little "tag" and "chase." Mike's family also took her out two days in a row for some trail runs, tuckering her out nicely for our long commute on Sunday home! Much eating, much gift unwrapping, and many memories shared over a few days. Enjoyable to connect with other family members in Maine and across the country on 12.25, so another holiday season delightfully came to a close.
Is New Year's Eve a holiday season starter or end? Not sure, really. Our neighbor had to work last night, and it was her only holiday she'll have to work in 2011, so I guess it could be perceived as the beginning. And the with champagne drunk and kisses given after the ball drops, technically after the old year is washed away with confetti, we begin anew. However, there is all this anticipation to the NYE night. Sales at department stores highlighting insane percentage drops so sequin tops and platform shoes will be worn to your bustling event that culminates the former year. And aside from the numerical notation of this calendar transition, is no other night during the 12 months as spectacular? Perhaps not so much attention should be granted to the great division among years, but the energy which connects them.
Whether or not you believe the year is ending or the new year is beginning, whether or not you want to place your hopes in the resolutions of what is to be, or bask in the joys of what you have already accomplished, know this: The excitement which leads up to 11:59 and maintains after 12:00 is something that should be endured throughout Jan-Dec. If we could take the happiness and spirit between each changing year throughout our calendars, imagine all the possibilities for your life. Your school. Your home. Your family. Your goals, whatever they be. I only suggest living each morning hour into the afternoon, or the Mon- into Tuesday no matter what date, as if it were as special as the New Year instigates. Present moments enjoyed with nostalgic looks into what has been achieved, and with future mindsets engaged with a fervent purpose.
Well, Christmas was a wonderful collection of family and fun this year, as it normally is, but this year like Thanksgiving, our first as a bethrothed newlywed pairing. Windsor also really enjoyed getting to see her friend, Mike's family dog, over the break and teasing one another by dangling toys in front of each other to engage in a little "tag" and "chase." Mike's family also took her out two days in a row for some trail runs, tuckering her out nicely for our long commute on Sunday home! Much eating, much gift unwrapping, and many memories shared over a few days. Enjoyable to connect with other family members in Maine and across the country on 12.25, so another holiday season delightfully came to a close.
Is New Year's Eve a holiday season starter or end? Not sure, really. Our neighbor had to work last night, and it was her only holiday she'll have to work in 2011, so I guess it could be perceived as the beginning. And the with champagne drunk and kisses given after the ball drops, technically after the old year is washed away with confetti, we begin anew. However, there is all this anticipation to the NYE night. Sales at department stores highlighting insane percentage drops so sequin tops and platform shoes will be worn to your bustling event that culminates the former year. And aside from the numerical notation of this calendar transition, is no other night during the 12 months as spectacular? Perhaps not so much attention should be granted to the great division among years, but the energy which connects them.
Whether or not you believe the year is ending or the new year is beginning, whether or not you want to place your hopes in the resolutions of what is to be, or bask in the joys of what you have already accomplished, know this: The excitement which leads up to 11:59 and maintains after 12:00 is something that should be endured throughout Jan-Dec. If we could take the happiness and spirit between each changing year throughout our calendars, imagine all the possibilities for your life. Your school. Your home. Your family. Your goals, whatever they be. I only suggest living each morning hour into the afternoon, or the Mon- into Tuesday no matter what date, as if it were as special as the New Year instigates. Present moments enjoyed with nostalgic looks into what has been achieved, and with future mindsets engaged with a fervent purpose.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
out of the grey.
My last post ended with a blurrying cover-story that I may not write again until the New Year....I guess it was an ahead-of-time attempt to prevent any further feelings of failure. No need. There is always room for writings, aren't there?
This one comes out of an afternoon tea session with a Christmas mug in my cupboard. Events over the past week (aside from class gossip) had me turning my stomach, and while positives like our game night with neighbors and friends was truly, truly joyful; I have had my ups and downs very close together recently, and hoped tea was an outlet to calm me.
I met with a woman last week who helps operate the headquarter conference center of a relatively new nonprofit in the Philadelphia area. Her father is on the board of directors, but as she assured me, "don't be put off that there's family involved." Quite the contrary, as I assured her, it seemed more beneficial to me to involve family with a matter that requires blood, sweat, and tears like any growing nonprofit needs. Also like stated in my previous post, this time of year, like an organization such as this one, has emotions running high when efforts are composed of such intensity with usually with only a few solid results. I found out yesterday that while the position may not be exactly what was proposed, involvement for me may occur with a foundation by which I am intrigued, and for which I am hopeful in its potential future accomplishments.
Without getting into much about the "could-bes" of the meeting, today was emotionally again a little sluggish. I did some excel-creating with our family's newest budgets and what will be a more budgeted spending allowance for each member. Hopefully that will be something we can continue regardless of what we make, because then what we earn and are able to spend wisely will be more rewarding. I did some people-watching at the ever-bustling mall. Speaking of spending....totally put down some gloriously priced merchandise and bought their images with my eyes, instead! I came home, turned on a repeat of Oprah, and made some hot cinnamon tea.
It was the episode revisiting Ali McGraw and Ryan O'Neal's epic Love Story from the 1970s. I remembered as much being totally "wowed" by Ali in particular -- she is currently 71 years old and her spirit (and looks, quite frankly) are more vibrant and ubiquitous than many people I know my age or close to it. Oprah was asking her life questions, love questions, media questions, and all of her answers were so incredibly honest. It was clear that her heart dictates her life, and each response or reaction to the interview came from such a real place. Like anyone, she had exclaimed regret and poor life choices, but never denied they built her, or provided her with becoming just that much more authentic.
In one such answer, I was wrapped in the warmth of my tea, and peered down into the mug. With all the occurring moments in that instance, I recognized my mug was nearly empty - seriously not the "half full/half empty" debate - I had about four or five sips of this delicious beverage left :). All of the spices, and cinnamon, and herbs had collected in a pool at the bottom. The flavored water above it was no doubt infused, but the essence of the drink was concentrated in a little cloud on the bottom. I typically just swirl about my drink when this happens; like with hot chocolate, the collection of ingredients reswirled invigorates the end of a lovely, winter-soothing beverage. This time, I kept staring at the brown dots. No movement, just gaze. And I began to envision the tea as my quest for authenticity. To compare myself to anything other than myself, I understand, is not very authentic. But, what inspired me to write this now, was to imagine that the spices were my true self, my energy, and the water above it was my life. For some reason, for some goal, my true spirits have been lately tested. Tested for different things, but most internally relating to a job purpose for myself and my family. I imagined myself standing at the bottom of the mug, peering into the eyes of my husband through the murky liquid, wanting to shout, "Drink me now! I'm pure and spicy! I'm concentrated and sure of myself! If you swirl me about, you're a fool for I will disappear!" Then I thought about that energy swirling around, it became mobilizing in a different way. "Oh! Spin me around! Diffuse me and blend me into the entire being of my life! I will represent the best version of myself as an aura of warmth in every gulp!"
Both scenarios are right. Each version of myself (or tea herbs) is flavorful and my life though unnervingly settled right now, is still full of my spirit. That is what I need to remember. Sometimes to be true, I will need sabbaticals like the professional one I have endured during these past six months. Sometimes, to be authentic, I may need to dispense myself in a million directions. Not for distraction tactics, but to apply myself in many positive outlets. Whatever way I do it, it is not to be judged, but reviewed individually. Different occasions will call for a different personal flavoring, but I hope to keep myself responsible in fulfilling an authentic substance. I hope to gain, by the age of 71 and beyond, life results which are true and comforting alike.
This one comes out of an afternoon tea session with a Christmas mug in my cupboard. Events over the past week (aside from class gossip) had me turning my stomach, and while positives like our game night with neighbors and friends was truly, truly joyful; I have had my ups and downs very close together recently, and hoped tea was an outlet to calm me.
I met with a woman last week who helps operate the headquarter conference center of a relatively new nonprofit in the Philadelphia area. Her father is on the board of directors, but as she assured me, "don't be put off that there's family involved." Quite the contrary, as I assured her, it seemed more beneficial to me to involve family with a matter that requires blood, sweat, and tears like any growing nonprofit needs. Also like stated in my previous post, this time of year, like an organization such as this one, has emotions running high when efforts are composed of such intensity with usually with only a few solid results. I found out yesterday that while the position may not be exactly what was proposed, involvement for me may occur with a foundation by which I am intrigued, and for which I am hopeful in its potential future accomplishments.
Without getting into much about the "could-bes" of the meeting, today was emotionally again a little sluggish. I did some excel-creating with our family's newest budgets and what will be a more budgeted spending allowance for each member. Hopefully that will be something we can continue regardless of what we make, because then what we earn and are able to spend wisely will be more rewarding. I did some people-watching at the ever-bustling mall. Speaking of spending....totally put down some gloriously priced merchandise and bought their images with my eyes, instead! I came home, turned on a repeat of Oprah, and made some hot cinnamon tea.
It was the episode revisiting Ali McGraw and Ryan O'Neal's epic Love Story from the 1970s. I remembered as much being totally "wowed" by Ali in particular -- she is currently 71 years old and her spirit (and looks, quite frankly) are more vibrant and ubiquitous than many people I know my age or close to it. Oprah was asking her life questions, love questions, media questions, and all of her answers were so incredibly honest. It was clear that her heart dictates her life, and each response or reaction to the interview came from such a real place. Like anyone, she had exclaimed regret and poor life choices, but never denied they built her, or provided her with becoming just that much more authentic.
In one such answer, I was wrapped in the warmth of my tea, and peered down into the mug. With all the occurring moments in that instance, I recognized my mug was nearly empty - seriously not the "half full/half empty" debate - I had about four or five sips of this delicious beverage left :). All of the spices, and cinnamon, and herbs had collected in a pool at the bottom. The flavored water above it was no doubt infused, but the essence of the drink was concentrated in a little cloud on the bottom. I typically just swirl about my drink when this happens; like with hot chocolate, the collection of ingredients reswirled invigorates the end of a lovely, winter-soothing beverage. This time, I kept staring at the brown dots. No movement, just gaze. And I began to envision the tea as my quest for authenticity. To compare myself to anything other than myself, I understand, is not very authentic. But, what inspired me to write this now, was to imagine that the spices were my true self, my energy, and the water above it was my life. For some reason, for some goal, my true spirits have been lately tested. Tested for different things, but most internally relating to a job purpose for myself and my family. I imagined myself standing at the bottom of the mug, peering into the eyes of my husband through the murky liquid, wanting to shout, "Drink me now! I'm pure and spicy! I'm concentrated and sure of myself! If you swirl me about, you're a fool for I will disappear!" Then I thought about that energy swirling around, it became mobilizing in a different way. "Oh! Spin me around! Diffuse me and blend me into the entire being of my life! I will represent the best version of myself as an aura of warmth in every gulp!"
Both scenarios are right. Each version of myself (or tea herbs) is flavorful and my life though unnervingly settled right now, is still full of my spirit. That is what I need to remember. Sometimes to be true, I will need sabbaticals like the professional one I have endured during these past six months. Sometimes, to be authentic, I may need to dispense myself in a million directions. Not for distraction tactics, but to apply myself in many positive outlets. Whatever way I do it, it is not to be judged, but reviewed individually. Different occasions will call for a different personal flavoring, but I hope to keep myself responsible in fulfilling an authentic substance. I hope to gain, by the age of 71 and beyond, life results which are true and comforting alike.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
the king of anything
As this hectic time of holiday seasons are upon us, I feel like everything, and everybody I encounter is supremely on edge. There are families to greet, meet, and entertain. There is food to bake, make, and devour. There are gifts to buy, fly, and wrap. It's no wonder it comes but just once a year!
Don't get me wrong, it's one of my favorite times of year, despite all the mess. Aside from the chaos, there's a reminder of the calm, peaceful transition from one year to the next; it's another break from my new academic schedule until the following semester. The snow is deciding whether or not it wants to fall, and unfortunately until it layers more of a solid blanket on the ground, little Windsor has to succumb to shorter walks because of the freezing cold! The gathering with family is always shortlived in my book, so we try to cram in memory-building boardgames, chilly walks after full meals, and lazying about the house with each other's company. Even the travel and down time before the holidays are appreciated by Mike and myself -- our first Christmas season as a married couple, and we're so happy to continue our own developing traditions: a bigger tree, exchanging budgeted gifts for one another a little early, and hosting our own "holiday" game night with friends tomorrow! We know it's not just the space in our apartment that will keep it a cozy, filling evening, but the friends and food that comfort us on the weekend before we all go our separate ways for Christmas vacation.
When I sat down over a week ago to write this particular blog, I was pretty sure what it was going to be about. The borrowed title of it, "King of Anything" is probably recognizable to some as the new single put out by musician and singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles. The song is in reference to talking against someone who is coming down on her. Someone who thinks they know best and are objectifying anything otherwise. About a week ago, my classes ended. I had not been in one of them for three weeks with the Thanksgiving holiday and the class after turkey-ing was cancelled due to our professor visiting Paris (cest la vie!). So as we mustered up our final thoughts, fifteen-page paper, and thoughtful insights for a final gathering in mid-December, I was surprised at the end result.
In this theories class, we began the semester with our wonderfully vibrant, intelligent professor. She started the term by telling us that if she could be where she is today by earning her Bachelor's, Master's, then Doctorate -- over a thirty year period -- then any of us could do the same. Having not spent much time academically in Psychology courses, this was going to be a great test for me in concluding my decisions to attend school again for a career-worthy pursuit. Fortunately, because of this class and professor, and most of my peers, it proved to me that this is definitely something that I believe is a good choice for my future work. I learned to which prior pioneers in the field I felt most connected, and which styles of counseling would not work for me as a practicing therapist. More importantly, I was eager to attend this class each week because of the carefree, inviting nature of its content; more like group therapy, aside from investigating the different styles of the theories presented, our professor encouraged us to open up about our days, weeks, emotional setbacks and if so inclined, fellow students would best evaluate.
At first, I know, scary! Allowing second-rate, first-time students to delve into your personal life and dissect your feelings? Note: We spoke if we so chose. So, many of us would offer tidbits of distress, or happiness if feeling like good could be shared that night too. Some classmates did not but open their mouths when requested to offer responses (in that case, required by the textbook questions not personal digging). The point was, that it was up to you, then up to the classroom's discretion to interpret and support you. A team effort.
So, much to my dismay, we are ending the final class of this wonderfully interactive semester and our professor notes that two students are missing that evening. She pauses, elaborates on the notion that neither had been in touch with her, no wait, one had been in touch a couple of hours prior saying while late, she would make the class. Turns out, she is absent with less than 45 minutes until departure. Naturally, our professor gets frustrated. Naturally, our professor expresses her frustrations and begins to ask for what reason there is a lack of communication among her graduate-level students. It continues, and as she speaks on, others chime in. Before I knew it, I sat up front and center to the beginnings of what sounded like a debate, and yet all parties involved were saying the same things. They were negotiating arguing tactics for our professor to use when confronting the students. They were expressing their frustrations by the students' absences as if their lack of attendance affected (or should at least affect) them. It was a gossip circle gone bad, and after about 6 or 7 minutes of it, I raised my hand.
"Yes, Carly? My newlywed." (This is often how my professor referred to me -- I'm telling you, she was cute!)
"Well, Dr. So-and-So...I want to say...that I don't see why we are discussing this right now without them here."
"Well, Carly -- would you talk to them for me if you could?"
"If you're asking would I confront them about their absences (it had happened with the same two women a couple times previously in the semsester), then I may be partial to inquiring with them about why they have not come tonight. But I do not see the point in debating about a decision which is ultimately yours. And I would not want to be placed in their shoes, discovering that as soon as a peer of mine came and spoke to me about my absence/neglected work, I would find out that the entire class spoke of me behind my back. I would then feel more than embarrassed and hurt by actions from soon-to-be professionals in a sensitive field."
Pause. More pausing. Unrelenting silence. Oh boy, Carly. Now you've done it. Gone and shot yourself in the foot again. Just about 12 minutes left of the semester, in a class where you've shared, cared, and written about situations like this in relation to clients, and the professor had nothing but positive things to say about your insight, and of your nature. Go ahead, confront her (and the entire class) about what they're doing. Forget the 'A' you planned on.
"Thank you, Carly," said our professor. "You're absolutely right, and I apologize. It is not the place nor time to bring this up. Thank you."
(Phew!) I barely muttered an "it's fine" with rosy cheeks as she apologized, for it was not my intention to make anyone feel badly. It was the exact opposite of this mini-protest. I just felt so inclined to be empathetic and understanding that one's actions, which will not be affecting my own in an academic setting, need no judgment from me. I guess it was a primal act of my counseling efforts in trying to convey gratitude for us to speak our minds, but not to do it with sinister motives. On a personal level with other classmates there, I'm sure I was forseen from here now as a "goody-goody," and they may continue such name-games. There is undoubtedly a competitive nature within school, and the real world in general. If you want to achieve, many of us believe it is relative to those around us. But I guess my heart had spoken in opposition of that myth, and realized I needed to disclose how I felt, and shed light on the fact that it is in fact what we achieve within ourselves that encourages positive growth.
We finished class happily as our professor raved about the local "Stag and Doe" night where stores would be kept open late, and offer wine and cheese in spirit of the holiday shopping. Our final papers landed on her desk in front of her, and when I approached a bit feverishly, she stood up (all 4.5 feet of her) and willfully spread her arms to give me a hug, repeating, "thank you." I simply said, "I understand your frustrations," and smiled with her, leaving my first heartwrenching, thoughtful, challenging course towards my future degree.
Wrapping it up again by the holiday bookends, just remember to be kind. The kind of compassion and generosity should not be set aside for winter months, but it is often when emotions are most magnified. The good and bad are confronted every day, so just aim to stay true to how you would like to be treated in return. Happy Christmas, and will probably be writing again in 2011!
Don't get me wrong, it's one of my favorite times of year, despite all the mess. Aside from the chaos, there's a reminder of the calm, peaceful transition from one year to the next; it's another break from my new academic schedule until the following semester. The snow is deciding whether or not it wants to fall, and unfortunately until it layers more of a solid blanket on the ground, little Windsor has to succumb to shorter walks because of the freezing cold! The gathering with family is always shortlived in my book, so we try to cram in memory-building boardgames, chilly walks after full meals, and lazying about the house with each other's company. Even the travel and down time before the holidays are appreciated by Mike and myself -- our first Christmas season as a married couple, and we're so happy to continue our own developing traditions: a bigger tree, exchanging budgeted gifts for one another a little early, and hosting our own "holiday" game night with friends tomorrow! We know it's not just the space in our apartment that will keep it a cozy, filling evening, but the friends and food that comfort us on the weekend before we all go our separate ways for Christmas vacation.
When I sat down over a week ago to write this particular blog, I was pretty sure what it was going to be about. The borrowed title of it, "King of Anything" is probably recognizable to some as the new single put out by musician and singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles. The song is in reference to talking against someone who is coming down on her. Someone who thinks they know best and are objectifying anything otherwise. About a week ago, my classes ended. I had not been in one of them for three weeks with the Thanksgiving holiday and the class after turkey-ing was cancelled due to our professor visiting Paris (cest la vie!). So as we mustered up our final thoughts, fifteen-page paper, and thoughtful insights for a final gathering in mid-December, I was surprised at the end result.
In this theories class, we began the semester with our wonderfully vibrant, intelligent professor. She started the term by telling us that if she could be where she is today by earning her Bachelor's, Master's, then Doctorate -- over a thirty year period -- then any of us could do the same. Having not spent much time academically in Psychology courses, this was going to be a great test for me in concluding my decisions to attend school again for a career-worthy pursuit. Fortunately, because of this class and professor, and most of my peers, it proved to me that this is definitely something that I believe is a good choice for my future work. I learned to which prior pioneers in the field I felt most connected, and which styles of counseling would not work for me as a practicing therapist. More importantly, I was eager to attend this class each week because of the carefree, inviting nature of its content; more like group therapy, aside from investigating the different styles of the theories presented, our professor encouraged us to open up about our days, weeks, emotional setbacks and if so inclined, fellow students would best evaluate.
At first, I know, scary! Allowing second-rate, first-time students to delve into your personal life and dissect your feelings? Note: We spoke if we so chose. So, many of us would offer tidbits of distress, or happiness if feeling like good could be shared that night too. Some classmates did not but open their mouths when requested to offer responses (in that case, required by the textbook questions not personal digging). The point was, that it was up to you, then up to the classroom's discretion to interpret and support you. A team effort.
So, much to my dismay, we are ending the final class of this wonderfully interactive semester and our professor notes that two students are missing that evening. She pauses, elaborates on the notion that neither had been in touch with her, no wait, one had been in touch a couple of hours prior saying while late, she would make the class. Turns out, she is absent with less than 45 minutes until departure. Naturally, our professor gets frustrated. Naturally, our professor expresses her frustrations and begins to ask for what reason there is a lack of communication among her graduate-level students. It continues, and as she speaks on, others chime in. Before I knew it, I sat up front and center to the beginnings of what sounded like a debate, and yet all parties involved were saying the same things. They were negotiating arguing tactics for our professor to use when confronting the students. They were expressing their frustrations by the students' absences as if their lack of attendance affected (or should at least affect) them. It was a gossip circle gone bad, and after about 6 or 7 minutes of it, I raised my hand.
"Yes, Carly? My newlywed." (This is often how my professor referred to me -- I'm telling you, she was cute!)
"Well, Dr. So-and-So...I want to say...that I don't see why we are discussing this right now without them here."
"Well, Carly -- would you talk to them for me if you could?"
"If you're asking would I confront them about their absences (it had happened with the same two women a couple times previously in the semsester), then I may be partial to inquiring with them about why they have not come tonight. But I do not see the point in debating about a decision which is ultimately yours. And I would not want to be placed in their shoes, discovering that as soon as a peer of mine came and spoke to me about my absence/neglected work, I would find out that the entire class spoke of me behind my back. I would then feel more than embarrassed and hurt by actions from soon-to-be professionals in a sensitive field."
Pause. More pausing. Unrelenting silence. Oh boy, Carly. Now you've done it. Gone and shot yourself in the foot again. Just about 12 minutes left of the semester, in a class where you've shared, cared, and written about situations like this in relation to clients, and the professor had nothing but positive things to say about your insight, and of your nature. Go ahead, confront her (and the entire class) about what they're doing. Forget the 'A' you planned on.
"Thank you, Carly," said our professor. "You're absolutely right, and I apologize. It is not the place nor time to bring this up. Thank you."
(Phew!) I barely muttered an "it's fine" with rosy cheeks as she apologized, for it was not my intention to make anyone feel badly. It was the exact opposite of this mini-protest. I just felt so inclined to be empathetic and understanding that one's actions, which will not be affecting my own in an academic setting, need no judgment from me. I guess it was a primal act of my counseling efforts in trying to convey gratitude for us to speak our minds, but not to do it with sinister motives. On a personal level with other classmates there, I'm sure I was forseen from here now as a "goody-goody," and they may continue such name-games. There is undoubtedly a competitive nature within school, and the real world in general. If you want to achieve, many of us believe it is relative to those around us. But I guess my heart had spoken in opposition of that myth, and realized I needed to disclose how I felt, and shed light on the fact that it is in fact what we achieve within ourselves that encourages positive growth.
We finished class happily as our professor raved about the local "Stag and Doe" night where stores would be kept open late, and offer wine and cheese in spirit of the holiday shopping. Our final papers landed on her desk in front of her, and when I approached a bit feverishly, she stood up (all 4.5 feet of her) and willfully spread her arms to give me a hug, repeating, "thank you." I simply said, "I understand your frustrations," and smiled with her, leaving my first heartwrenching, thoughtful, challenging course towards my future degree.
Wrapping it up again by the holiday bookends, just remember to be kind. The kind of compassion and generosity should not be set aside for winter months, but it is often when emotions are most magnified. The good and bad are confronted every day, so just aim to stay true to how you would like to be treated in return. Happy Christmas, and will probably be writing again in 2011!
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