Since I am fond of the idea of gratitude I thought this would be a nice reminder. A gratitude placeholder, if you will. A note to myself, so the next time I feel like the world is crumbling around me because Whole Foods is (ONCE AGAIN) out of my favorite salad dressing, I can have a little perspective.
*****
Dear Holly,
Life is incredibly good right now. Savor it.
For instance, last night you slept 10 uninterrupted hours in a row because you were tired. Life is free like that – when you are tired, you sleep. When you are hungry, you cook something delicious. When there are errands to be run, you hop in the car and make that To-Do List your bitch. Weekends are easy, weeknights hold a multitude of opportunities -- enjoy this, because right now your life is your own, and that freedom is a gift.
Give yourself a pat on the back – you have lost 80 lbs, girl! While it seems easier to focus on what you have left to lose, seriously take a minute and wrap your brain around your accomplishments. You are stronger than you have ever been, weigh less than you have in the last decade, and feel like nothing is beyond your reach. Enjoy your confidence in your abilities. Appreciate the pride you have in your body. Even though it isn’t perfect (and probably never will be, so quit seeking that while we're at it) you have earned it! Each muscle is a testament, every bruise has a story to tell. You have found a way of eating and a fitness program that has completely relieved your life of diet and exercise noise. And on top of that, it has been a success! Some people struggle with this their whole lives, be grateful you have made peace with this at 32. You have the rest of your life to get to the perfect weight/size/skill level – it is not a race. Don’t forget to enjoy the process and keep up the good work.
Speaking of enjoying the process, you are in the healthiest and best relationship of your life. Remember when you were young and single and felt like you would never find that person who perfectly shared your offbeat sense of humor, yet was also adorable, responsible, and totally up for any adventure? Remember the nights in your early 20s, mid 20s, and even in your late 20s when you thought -- Will I ever find someone AT ALL??? Well you found him. The Relationship Holy Grail, Holly, now sleeps beside you every night. When you remind yourself of how much you wanted this, and relive the work it took to get you where you are now, let your feelings of gratitude be overwhelming. The next time he forgets to pick up the meat share or adds paprika to the crock pot instead of chili powder, or wants to explain to you every specific nuance about how to drive your car – choose to laugh about it instead of getting frustrated. And the next time someone gives you a hard time about not being married yet, remember that you are not under any obligation to follow someone else’s timeline. Married or not, you are luckier than ever to have this kind of love.
Also remember to love your job. Yes the job that seems to start just a little bit too early each day. The one that requires you sit at a desk in a cubicle during some of the most beautiful days of summer? Yep, that's the one. Love that job. Remember that this is the job that is supporting both you and Garrett in a very comfortable manner. It wasn’t that long ago that you were stressfully living paycheck to paycheck and crying over credit card bills and wondering how you would ever make it as a functioning adult. Remember those days? I know you do because it was only 5 or 6 years ago, you can’t already be that senile. That is so far from the reality of your daily life now it is laughable, and for that, say thank you. So what if you are not doing EXACTLY what you want to be doing, when you want to be doing it. You have realized by now that if you really want something, you have the skills to make it happen. So if that’s the problem, then MAKE IT HAPPEN. But in the meantime, don’t mope about your current opportunities. Remember what a fabulous opportunity you are cultivating RIGHT NOW in that cubicle, no matter how small it is. Someone, somewhere would love that opportunity and for now, it’s sitting right there in the palm of your hand -- so care for it. Don’t be a jerk about it.
Enjoy your family, because they will not always live nearby. Remember those days of living in LA and having to hop on a plane to hang out with your mom? Well now on a whim you can A to Z every aisle of Target with her, and you know there is no better shopping enabler. You can BBQ with your family, or watch your baby cousin learn to crawl, or have a fun night out that doesn’t involve getting super dressed up because when you hang out with good friends the dress code is always comfy. And you can do all of this with relatively little scheming because everyone is right there in your backyard. Yes, someday you may want to live somewhere that is a little more exotic than Sacramento, CA. But for now, you have a wealth of love right in your backyard. Appreciate the fact you’re your current zip code means that loneliness is never a defining emotion in your life, and this is a gift you have wished for in the past.
These are awesome times and life is good. Things will always change – some will get better and some will get worse -- but right now, make sure to acknowledge that you are lucky. And if you remember only one thing from this letter, please remember that.
Love,
Holly
Showing posts with label Introspection on a good day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Introspection on a good day. Show all posts
June 23, 2011
June 08, 2011
The Path vs. The Prize
There are two things speaking to me from the internet this morning, and I find when the internet sends you a couple of coincidentally thematic things in a row, it is best to listen. Except, of course, when that message is "Buy expensive things you can't afford." Then I try to tune it out, but oh how that is hard! When the messages are more introspective, however, and less consumer based -- I certainly try to pay attention.
There are no coincidences, you know. Only glitches in The Matrix.
Do we need a gratuitous Keanu shot on this Wednesday morning? Yes, yes I think we do.
So the first thing I read this morning was this post on Zen and CrossFit over at The Five Tribe. Honest to god, do you know how many times I have set and arbitrary goal for myself at the gym that has no basis is fact or experience and then have been DISAPPOINTED that I didn't achieve it? Many more than I would like to admit actually, and the insanity of that is not lost on me. Not that this does not makes the disappointment go away, but since I am at least aware of it, I feel like I am not totally hopeless.
I don't know where it comes from: this desire to set goals and push relentlessly until I achieve them. It is so god damn hardwired into my brain. I know that sounds a little obnoxious on first glance -- oh, woe is me, I love to set goals and achieve them...my life is so hard! Also my diamond shoes are too tight and my money clip is just waaaaaaaay too small! Sigh. The thing is, it's not the goal setting that is so awful, it is the narrow-focused drive that it sometimes awakens inside of me that pushes for achievement just for achievement's sake. The drive to cross something off of a list, to check a box, to identify with a number, to have an experience under my belt. This is a productive flaw to have, I realize -- better than the fierce and narrow-focused drive to stay in my bed -- but it is also one that needs to be kept in check not only in the gym, but in life in order to maintain balance and sanity. Good things, both of those. Things that elude me on occasion.
I'm still working hard on trying to just Be. To show up and try hard. To realize that when I am out running, even if I am bringing up the rear, I am still lapping everyone who is at home sitting on the couch. This alone should be a victory for my demented and focused (and sometimes competitive) brain, AND YET. I find it hard to have purpose when I don't have a goal, or a drive to achieve. I fear that if I let that go, there will be nothing left to see or do. While I will never be a person who doesn't set goals any more than I will ever be a person who doesn't breathe daily I know that I can try my best to control those achievement impulses and redirect that energy to enjoying the journey. The journey itself can be enjoyable!
Let's all chant it together!
Ok, or not.
Then a few clicks later I read this little gem of a story posted by Melissa over at The Clothes Make the Girl:
There is a story of a young, but earnest Zen student who approached his teacher, and asked the Master:
“If I work very hard and diligently, how long will it take for me to find Zen? The Master thought about this, then replied, “Ten years…”
The student then said, “But what if I work very, very hard and really apply myself to learn fast — How long then?” Replied the Master, “Well, twenty years.”
“But, if I really, really work at it, how long then?” asked the student. “Thirty years,” replied the Master.
“But, I do not understand,” said the disappointed student. “At each time that I say I will work harder, you say it will take me longer. Why do you say that?”
Replied the Master, “When you have one eye on the goal, you only have one eye on the path.”And then all of a sudden, the light bulb went off.
_____________________
May 04, 2011
Smooth Is The New Skinny?
I basically hate Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20 and, poor thing, it isn’t even his fault. I actually blame it all on Santana and that god awful song "Smooth" that was officially 1999’s Most Overplayed Hit. If you just had to click on that link to remind yourself of the song I am talking about, know that I am envious of your ignorance.
Fun Fact: I just fell down a Rob Thomas rabbit hole and found out that he originally wanted George Michael to collaborate with Santana on that song (Thomas originally wrote it for someone else) and man if I don't feel like I just dodged a bullet since I probably would have grown to hate George Michael too! Then instead of throwing away all of my Matchbox 20 albums what if I had thrown out all my Wham! Records? OHMYGAWD, a world without Wham! is not a world I want to live in.
(Collective sigh of relief for a minute. Wham! Rap FOREVER. )
So all the Rob Thomas talk is because I heard "Smooth" this afternoon and not only did I NOT feel even one iota of rage, but I listened to it all the way through! I KNOW. Are you dead from shock? Don't Die! Come back to me! Please? Because I am about to tie this into weight loss and cross-dressing, and that is fucking impressive I think. Besides, what else are you going to do right now? Fall down a Rob Thomas rabbit hole? I Do Not Recommend.
So I didn’t turn the station because it reminded me of a text message I once got from my cousin Kelly when her in laws came to visit. They were driving up from LA one weekend and upon their arrival Kelly sent me a text that said: OMG, my father in law just rolled into my driveway in a shiny new mini-van blaring Rob Thomas and Santana’s “Smooth.” And this struck me as so hilarious in that moment. I mean, right now, I want you imagine your in-laws rolling up in your driveway in a brand new shiny minvan bumping Rob Thomas and Santana? Or bumping anything for that matter IN A MINIVAN? I dare you not to laugh. And when that song came on today I had a little perspective shift. Instead of having PTSD flashbacks to 1999 as per usual, I thought of Kelly’s awesome Father-in-Law and his (obvs) awesome mini-van and enjoyed the entire song.
Perspective shifts are magical! Like Unicorns!
And speaking of laughing hysterically and perspective shifts, two people called me skinny at work today. This has happened with an increasing frequency over the last few weeks and I drop dead of shock Every. Single. Time. Mostly because the truth is, whether I have lost weight or not, I could still give the majority of NFL Linemen a run for their money if we were standing on scales next to each other. I definitely do not associate the word skinny with myself. I am not even close to my goal weight, and at 5’10 and NOT of tiny bone structure, I'm not afraid to tell you that my goal weight is somewhere around 175lbs. I KNOW! That probably makes some of YOU want to drop dead of shock. But here’s the thing, at 175lbs I will look strong and hot as hell, so don't die! Get out your smelling salts one more time and come back to me, would ya? Pretty please?
(Boy all of this dropping dead is getting a little exhausting, but I have to admit a part of me just died inside just telling you about my goal weight in like, actual numbers. But we're all friends here, right internet? So why shouldn't I let you in on that goal! 175lbs it is!)
So this other thing that I wanted to let you in on? Was how I made Garrett try on women’s clothing the other night. I know *kinky* right? Speaking of dropping dead, Garrett just dropped dead of embarrasment because I told THE INTERNET that he wears women’s clothes. All of his fears that his girlfriend is a blogger without boundaries have come true. MWAHAHAHAHA.
Seriously though, it was only jeans, and I made him do it out of sheer curiosity that I promise to explain. He is a good sport, that Garrett, that’s why I keep him around (see also: The Cuteness.) He goes along with these flights of fancy that I have and doesn’t even really look at me funny anymore when I write about it on the internet. Can you believe I never even put that on my wish list of Character Traits In My Dream Man? Single ladies, this trait is underrated. Add this to your lists immediately. It is worth its weight in entertainment value alone.
So I made him try on women’s jeans not because I am crazy/kinky/cool, but because we were hanging out with my family the other night and everyone kept telling him how skinny he was and how he is going to waste away to nothing and OMG DO YOU EAT? THE HORROR. Yes, he has lost some weight. Actually over 10% of his body fat since we started CrossFit and went Paleo, and now at 5’11 he weighs in at just about 175 lbs. And, whoa whoa, wait a second -- that number sounds familiar doesn’t it?
That is THE number. Only, you know he's a boy. So of course I made him try on a bunch of different jeans to figure out what size he would be in women’s clothing. And guess what? HE FITS INTO A SIZE 12. I mean what a freakin' waif. You better watch yourself, Kate Moss.
No one can get over how svelte he looks, but you know if he was a woman, he would technically be a Plus Sized Model and most brands of “Investment Jeans” wouldn’t even sell his size, FATTY FATTY FAT PANTS.
And those Size 12 jeans he was trying on? Are the jeans that I *hope* to fit into when I get to my goal weight. My own personal skinny jeans. But the truth is, I don’t even know how I feel about that word skinny anymore anyway? Do I really want to be *skinny*? I don't know. I’ll tell you what I do know though: I am working hard. I am a work in progress and that is okay. I am doing my best to become a healthier person so hopefully someday we can have kids and I can tell them about how their dad used to dress up in womens’ clothes. Well okay, maybe not that exactly.
I know I’m doing my best to learn about how my body works and what is healthy for me. And I’m also working hard to make sure that throughout this process I continue to look in the mirror and like what I see. Not just physically, but emotionally. And most of the time that last part involves some serious shifts in perspective. It's a process, you all, but I'll tell you what -- if I can shift my perspective enough to listen to an entire Rob Thomas song after 10 years of wanting to stick my finger in my eye every time I hear it, then frankly I can probably shift my entire perspective on almost anything.
_______________________________
_______________________________
April 22, 2011
It's A World of Hopes And A World of Fears
I was a very good kid growing up. Dangerously good, actually. In high school I earned good grades, never missed curfew, and I had mostly nice friends who, like me, couldn’t wait to get into college and start our "real lives". BAHAHAHAHA. Oh, how I would love to go back to the "Real Life" that was college. But towards the end of my Senior Year, shortly after I turned 17, all hell broke loose.
One of the things I decided to stop doing was going to class regularly. Calculus and Government -- who needed them? I had sent in my college applications, Senior-itis had officially settled in, and I felt like I should be able to come and go as I pleased since I was (almost) an adult, DAMMIT. (Feel free, again, to insert hysterical laughter here.) I had a good friend who was totally with me on this, so we spent a number of mornings leaving the school parking lot to go hang out over breakfast at Dennys, or to drive down to the local Starbucks (where we both worked at the time) to flaunt just exactly how Too Cool For School we were to our fellow co-workers, who were sooooo lucky to be in Junior College, we thought.
You can imagine how thrilled my parents were each day when they would get a call from the attendance secretary wondering where I was in 5th period. Our house was full of arguments during those days and I am certain I have ordered up an extra large portion of Shitty Kid Karma for my behavior during those few months alone. One day during the height of all of the turmoil, instead of receiving a phone call from the attendance secretary, my parents received a call from a hospital in a town 45 minutes away. We had decided to skip school altogether and hit up a big mall a few towns over, and after a day of shopping we headed back home to be right on time to act like we had spent the day studying as we had both promised our parents the night before. But due to the rainy afternoon, a bit of road construction, and being inexperienced teenagers behind the wheel, we didn’t actually make it home.
It is the worst car accident I have been in as a passenger, to date. We crossed 4 lanes of traffic, hit a few other cars, and proceeded to roll down an embankment into a ditch in a 1989 Volkswagen Fox. The feeling of fear that surrounds you when you topple down a hill to await your fate would wake me up in the middle of the night for years afterward. We were taken to the hospital, and as you can imagine the medical bills were steep. But my parents didn’t think one lick about this when they came to pick me up -- they were in that mixed emotional state of being so happy I was okay, and so pissed that I had skipped school with this friend, AGAIN.
My "good friend" began to be a bit evasive after the accident, and it turned out to be because she had been driving without insurance. Things began to get a little ugly with her family when those medical bills started rolling in and so my dad ended up contacting an old friend who was an attorney. All I remember at the ripe old “adult” age of 17, is being so relieved that my parents and their friend swept me up and took care of everything. The lawsuit was settled as it should have been, and there were few ramifications on our end.
That high school friend of my parents was a gentleman by the name of Pat Tillman Sr. In 1996 when he came in and righted all of the wrongs that I had wrapped myself up in with my irresponsible youthful ignorance, I was eternally grateful. In 2004, my heart would be filled with a much different emotion as I watched the events unfold around the death of his son Pat Tillman Jr.
Because I wanted to avoid my government class, Pat Tillman Sr. helped bail my parents out of situation that could have had ugly ramifications. I think of him every year on this date, the anniversary of his son's death, and wish that someone could sweep in and save his family from their awful situation that has turned into an enormous eye opening tragedy. It is a story that still seems to be unraveling, and one that I watch closely with a heavy heart. There are times when I watch the news and feel so overwhelmed with the world that I have to turn it off. But every once in a while a story hits so close to home and I am forced to acknowledge that the world is so small that it hurts.
I'm thinking of the Tillman family today.
--
*If you are interested, A foundation has been set up in Pat Tillman's name to provide resources and educational scholarship support to veterans, active servicemembers, and their dependants. If you have been touched in any way by Pat's story, head over and see how you can contribute to his legacy.
_____________________
One of the things I decided to stop doing was going to class regularly. Calculus and Government -- who needed them? I had sent in my college applications, Senior-itis had officially settled in, and I felt like I should be able to come and go as I pleased since I was (almost) an adult, DAMMIT. (Feel free, again, to insert hysterical laughter here.) I had a good friend who was totally with me on this, so we spent a number of mornings leaving the school parking lot to go hang out over breakfast at Dennys, or to drive down to the local Starbucks (where we both worked at the time) to flaunt just exactly how Too Cool For School we were to our fellow co-workers, who were sooooo lucky to be in Junior College, we thought.
You can imagine how thrilled my parents were each day when they would get a call from the attendance secretary wondering where I was in 5th period. Our house was full of arguments during those days and I am certain I have ordered up an extra large portion of Shitty Kid Karma for my behavior during those few months alone. One day during the height of all of the turmoil, instead of receiving a phone call from the attendance secretary, my parents received a call from a hospital in a town 45 minutes away. We had decided to skip school altogether and hit up a big mall a few towns over, and after a day of shopping we headed back home to be right on time to act like we had spent the day studying as we had both promised our parents the night before. But due to the rainy afternoon, a bit of road construction, and being inexperienced teenagers behind the wheel, we didn’t actually make it home.
It is the worst car accident I have been in as a passenger, to date. We crossed 4 lanes of traffic, hit a few other cars, and proceeded to roll down an embankment into a ditch in a 1989 Volkswagen Fox. The feeling of fear that surrounds you when you topple down a hill to await your fate would wake me up in the middle of the night for years afterward. We were taken to the hospital, and as you can imagine the medical bills were steep. But my parents didn’t think one lick about this when they came to pick me up -- they were in that mixed emotional state of being so happy I was okay, and so pissed that I had skipped school with this friend, AGAIN.
My "good friend" began to be a bit evasive after the accident, and it turned out to be because she had been driving without insurance. Things began to get a little ugly with her family when those medical bills started rolling in and so my dad ended up contacting an old friend who was an attorney. All I remember at the ripe old “adult” age of 17, is being so relieved that my parents and their friend swept me up and took care of everything. The lawsuit was settled as it should have been, and there were few ramifications on our end.
That high school friend of my parents was a gentleman by the name of Pat Tillman Sr. In 1996 when he came in and righted all of the wrongs that I had wrapped myself up in with my irresponsible youthful ignorance, I was eternally grateful. In 2004, my heart would be filled with a much different emotion as I watched the events unfold around the death of his son Pat Tillman Jr.
Because I wanted to avoid my government class, Pat Tillman Sr. helped bail my parents out of situation that could have had ugly ramifications. I think of him every year on this date, the anniversary of his son's death, and wish that someone could sweep in and save his family from their awful situation that has turned into an enormous eye opening tragedy. It is a story that still seems to be unraveling, and one that I watch closely with a heavy heart. There are times when I watch the news and feel so overwhelmed with the world that I have to turn it off. But every once in a while a story hits so close to home and I am forced to acknowledge that the world is so small that it hurts.
I'm thinking of the Tillman family today.
--
*If you are interested, A foundation has been set up in Pat Tillman's name to provide resources and educational scholarship support to veterans, active servicemembers, and their dependants. If you have been touched in any way by Pat's story, head over and see how you can contribute to his legacy.
_____________________
January 11, 2011
On Happiness
So I am fully admitting to stealing the idea for this post from Maggie's comments section, but when I read the questions I just thought to myself -- I must think about this and write it down! And now here we are. Thanks Maggie!
If the questions sound familiar it is because they are straight out of Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project, which is a book I read last year and highly recommend. There is something worth marinating on for everyone in that book I think, and it is especially timely when we are all thinking about resolutions and such, and how we are all going to make our lives better (ie happier, right?)
What is a simple activity that consistently makes you happier?
Exercise. It's not always the same exercise, but I feel consistently happier when I am exercising regularly. Part of why I have been enjoying CrossFit so much is because it has really streamlined my exercise routine -- I don't have to think about it, plan it, and then also execute it. I just have to show up and try hard -- and this seems to be a recipe for results for me. That said, even if I am just going for a run because I want to get outside, or taking a walk to clear my head, exercising ALWAYS makes me feel happier.
As for smaller things with less commitment: crossing things off lists, taking bubble baths, reading in bed, and drinking good coffee consistently make me happy too!
What's something you know now about happiness that you didn't know when you were 18 years old?
That it is my choice. As I've gotten older I think I have stopped looking for people to blame for my unhappiness or for the difficulties in my life and I have started to look at every situation that makes me unhappy and find a way that I can either change my perspective or change the action that is making me unhappy. I can't control those around me, but I can ALWAYS control my reaction. I can always choose happiness. Now that doesn't mean I always do that, but deep down I know it to be true.
Is there anything you find yourself doing repeatedly that gets in the way of your happiness?
Taking on too much. Because I enjoy crossing things off lists, I often make my lists extra long. There is a tipping point, though, where the list goes from happiness inspiration to anxiety inducing chore chart. I am not always clear on where that tipping point is until I have gone way past it. I am trying to be better about this at work and in life. It is a work in progress for sure.
Is there a happiness mantra or motto that you've found helpful?
Well I love the good old Eleanor Roosevelt adage that no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. It is not directly about happiness but it definitely is a nice reminder that we choose our feelings, and happiness is no different.
If you're feeling blue, how do you give yourself a happiness boost? Or like a "comfort food" do you have a comfort activity?
My comfort activity is definitely reading. I love nothing more than diving into a new book, whether it is fiction and I get to spend some time in an entirely made up world, or non-fiction/memoir where I get to learn about something or someone. I really do just love to spend time with words. It is also an escapist activity though, so I can lines between me being unhappy and me reading a ton certainly run parallel.
I also almost always call my mom when I need a happiness boost. Sometimes you just need a the parental rose-colored glasses to recalibrate you know? It's almost always a sure thing!
Is there anything that you see people around you doing or saying that detracts a lot from their happiness?
Complaining.
Watch your thoughts, they become your words. Watch your words, they become your deeds...right? I love to vent as much as the next person, TRUST ME, but I know if I stay there it's not my most meditative happy place. I try to spend an equal amount of time solving a problem if I'm complaining about a problem. Note that I said try. Also a work in progress.
Have you ever been surprised that something you expected would make you happy, didn't -- or vice versa?
Last year surprised the hell out of me because we reduced our income by half when Garrett quit his full time job, yet our happiness increased exponentially. I did not expect that AT ALL. I expected to feel challenged and deprived and a little jealous of others at times. What I ended up feeling instead was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. We were no longer struggling with the stress of his job daily and the blissful return of normalcy felt like taking a deep breath after being trapped under the sea. Prioritizing happiness over money was one of the best decisions we have made as a couple yet. Yes there was panic, but the relief was so palpable that it just made everything else seem manageable. Even easy in comparison. It has changed the way I view my work, my life, my family, our future marriage, money, and most importantly my priorities.
Really, it changed everything.
If the questions sound familiar it is because they are straight out of Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project, which is a book I read last year and highly recommend. There is something worth marinating on for everyone in that book I think, and it is especially timely when we are all thinking about resolutions and such, and how we are all going to make our lives better (ie happier, right?)
So here are my answers -- what are yours? If you end up blogging about it too, leave me a link so I can read your thoughts. I think everyone can benefit from a little sharing about happiness.
What is a simple activity that consistently makes you happier?
Exercise. It's not always the same exercise, but I feel consistently happier when I am exercising regularly. Part of why I have been enjoying CrossFit so much is because it has really streamlined my exercise routine -- I don't have to think about it, plan it, and then also execute it. I just have to show up and try hard -- and this seems to be a recipe for results for me. That said, even if I am just going for a run because I want to get outside, or taking a walk to clear my head, exercising ALWAYS makes me feel happier.
As for smaller things with less commitment: crossing things off lists, taking bubble baths, reading in bed, and drinking good coffee consistently make me happy too!
What's something you know now about happiness that you didn't know when you were 18 years old?
That it is my choice. As I've gotten older I think I have stopped looking for people to blame for my unhappiness or for the difficulties in my life and I have started to look at every situation that makes me unhappy and find a way that I can either change my perspective or change the action that is making me unhappy. I can't control those around me, but I can ALWAYS control my reaction. I can always choose happiness. Now that doesn't mean I always do that, but deep down I know it to be true.
Is there anything you find yourself doing repeatedly that gets in the way of your happiness?
Taking on too much. Because I enjoy crossing things off lists, I often make my lists extra long. There is a tipping point, though, where the list goes from happiness inspiration to anxiety inducing chore chart. I am not always clear on where that tipping point is until I have gone way past it. I am trying to be better about this at work and in life. It is a work in progress for sure.
Is there a happiness mantra or motto that you've found helpful?
Well I love the good old Eleanor Roosevelt adage that no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. It is not directly about happiness but it definitely is a nice reminder that we choose our feelings, and happiness is no different.
If you're feeling blue, how do you give yourself a happiness boost? Or like a "comfort food" do you have a comfort activity?
My comfort activity is definitely reading. I love nothing more than diving into a new book, whether it is fiction and I get to spend some time in an entirely made up world, or non-fiction/memoir where I get to learn about something or someone. I really do just love to spend time with words. It is also an escapist activity though, so I can lines between me being unhappy and me reading a ton certainly run parallel.
I also almost always call my mom when I need a happiness boost. Sometimes you just need a the parental rose-colored glasses to recalibrate you know? It's almost always a sure thing!
Is there anything that you see people around you doing or saying that detracts a lot from their happiness?
Complaining.
Watch your thoughts, they become your words. Watch your words, they become your deeds...right? I love to vent as much as the next person, TRUST ME, but I know if I stay there it's not my most meditative happy place. I try to spend an equal amount of time solving a problem if I'm complaining about a problem. Note that I said try. Also a work in progress.
Have you ever been surprised that something you expected would make you happy, didn't -- or vice versa?
Last year surprised the hell out of me because we reduced our income by half when Garrett quit his full time job, yet our happiness increased exponentially. I did not expect that AT ALL. I expected to feel challenged and deprived and a little jealous of others at times. What I ended up feeling instead was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. We were no longer struggling with the stress of his job daily and the blissful return of normalcy felt like taking a deep breath after being trapped under the sea. Prioritizing happiness over money was one of the best decisions we have made as a couple yet. Yes there was panic, but the relief was so palpable that it just made everything else seem manageable. Even easy in comparison. It has changed the way I view my work, my life, my family, our future marriage, money, and most importantly my priorities.
Really, it changed everything.
June 21, 2010
Time Of Our Life?
I’ve been reading a number of things about personal finance, simplification and consumerism lately. These are things I think a lot about anyway just because I find them fascinating, but with all the recent lifestyle changes we have been making I have found myself even more committed to making sure we are doing the best we can with our finances, saving where we can, DIY’ing when it makes sense, and generally being cognizant about Need vs. Want. With Garrett working part time right now there’s really no glossy way to put it, our income has been reduced by almost half.
That is actually kind of a panic inducing number when you think about it – but in actuality it really hasn’t been that stressful. I know what you are thinking, “But Holly, what do you mean things haven’t been stressful, I read your blog. You’re life has been a ball of stress lately.” And to that, I would agree, but I would also clarify: I’m not saying we haven’t had stressful things going on – um, you are correct to note just about every post over the last two weeks -- but the reality is that this stress would have been there no matter what, whether we were both working full time making twice as much money, or not. And my point is that our reduction in income hasn’t made life more stressful and in fact, I’m going to posit the exact opposite.
What has been amazing over these last few weeks with all this stress going on is that with Garrett’s new part time gig at Peet’s (free coffee, FTW!) it has been so incredibly awesome to have him around because he is well suited to be Captain of Team Fix It. These types of stressors are things Garrett handles better than I do, so he’s kind of the obvious choice. So even with all the craziness going on there is definitely a more relaxed energy around our house. For me, it has been because Garrett has been majorly owning life on the home front (instead of us both juggling to split it) and for him, the fact that this new job is about 90 Bazillion times less stressful than either of the jobs he has had in the last 5 years is improving his quality of life in ways we didn’t even plan for. No doubt we have definitely had to contemplate decisions about purchases more carefully, and we have had to (sadly) say no to a couple of experiences that we would have normally jumped at the chance to be a part of, but overall life with less money has felt (dare I say) better.
This is weird, right? Stick with me for a minute and I will explain away the crazy, I promise.
I read something recently that that sort of inspired me, and also did a little dot connecting for me in my head. The post was about creating a life that needs no escape, and the part that really resonated with me was this:
I think what resonated for me was this idea of being intentional with your life. You are in the driver’s seat, so why not be creating a life that you want to live, instead of planning all these things to do when you finally get some time off from life? Even though the above post came from a financial blog, I feel like this idea of creating a life you want to be living encompasses so much more than just saving your money (though that is a big part of it). I think it is about defining what you value – and really, when you get caught up in the hustle bustle of everyday life, sometimes you forget to ask yourselve if the tasks on our to do list are really aligning with what it is you truly value? Defining your values, figuring out what excites and inspires you, and determining what success looks like for you in your own life is hard enough. Add on trying to actually achieve these things in the context of the well meaning others around you (with their own opinions) and it becomes almost this radical idea.
For us, the past couple months have been a little bit radical. We have definitely had much less disposable income to kick around, but what we found is that we had an overabundance of time -- and as it turns out that was something that we were ALWAYS craving! Time to get things done, time to plan, time to execute and of course time to breathe – all these things were luxuries before. But it turns out, with just a few tweaks, we unintentionally created this life where all of that comes standard. So even though we’ve been doing some penny pinching, having a little less money lately has really forced us to think about what we truly value, and many of those things: time with our family, having dinner together, being outside, exercising, reading, working in the yard, tending to our little garden, catching up with friends – don’t really require millions of dollars. But having the time to spend doing them? Priceless.
That is actually kind of a panic inducing number when you think about it – but in actuality it really hasn’t been that stressful. I know what you are thinking, “But Holly, what do you mean things haven’t been stressful, I read your blog. You’re life has been a ball of stress lately.” And to that, I would agree, but I would also clarify: I’m not saying we haven’t had stressful things going on – um, you are correct to note just about every post over the last two weeks -- but the reality is that this stress would have been there no matter what, whether we were both working full time making twice as much money, or not. And my point is that our reduction in income hasn’t made life more stressful and in fact, I’m going to posit the exact opposite.
What has been amazing over these last few weeks with all this stress going on is that with Garrett’s new part time gig at Peet’s (free coffee, FTW!) it has been so incredibly awesome to have him around because he is well suited to be Captain of Team Fix It. These types of stressors are things Garrett handles better than I do, so he’s kind of the obvious choice. So even with all the craziness going on there is definitely a more relaxed energy around our house. For me, it has been because Garrett has been majorly owning life on the home front (instead of us both juggling to split it) and for him, the fact that this new job is about 90 Bazillion times less stressful than either of the jobs he has had in the last 5 years is improving his quality of life in ways we didn’t even plan for. No doubt we have definitely had to contemplate decisions about purchases more carefully, and we have had to (sadly) say no to a couple of experiences that we would have normally jumped at the chance to be a part of, but overall life with less money has felt (dare I say) better.
This is weird, right? Stick with me for a minute and I will explain away the crazy, I promise.
I read something recently that that sort of inspired me, and also did a little dot connecting for me in my head. The post was about creating a life that needs no escape, and the part that really resonated with me was this:
I think that for a lot of people, vacations are as much about getting away from normal life as they are about seeing new places. Most people get two or three weeks of vacation time each year. Do you really want to have two or three great weeks per year, during which you try to get away from whatever it is you do with your time the other 49 to 50 weeks? I would rather have 52 great weeks and no desire to escape from my life.
I think what resonated for me was this idea of being intentional with your life. You are in the driver’s seat, so why not be creating a life that you want to live, instead of planning all these things to do when you finally get some time off from life? Even though the above post came from a financial blog, I feel like this idea of creating a life you want to be living encompasses so much more than just saving your money (though that is a big part of it). I think it is about defining what you value – and really, when you get caught up in the hustle bustle of everyday life, sometimes you forget to ask yourselve if the tasks on our to do list are really aligning with what it is you truly value? Defining your values, figuring out what excites and inspires you, and determining what success looks like for you in your own life is hard enough. Add on trying to actually achieve these things in the context of the well meaning others around you (with their own opinions) and it becomes almost this radical idea.
For us, the past couple months have been a little bit radical. We have definitely had much less disposable income to kick around, but what we found is that we had an overabundance of time -- and as it turns out that was something that we were ALWAYS craving! Time to get things done, time to plan, time to execute and of course time to breathe – all these things were luxuries before. But it turns out, with just a few tweaks, we unintentionally created this life where all of that comes standard. So even though we’ve been doing some penny pinching, having a little less money lately has really forced us to think about what we truly value, and many of those things: time with our family, having dinner together, being outside, exercising, reading, working in the yard, tending to our little garden, catching up with friends – don’t really require millions of dollars. But having the time to spend doing them? Priceless.
June 16, 2010
On Adapting
Bright and early this morning while both getting ready to head out the door for work (we still have only one car so I have been on drop off and pick up duty) Garrett looked at me and smiled and said, "We've figured this one car thing out pretty quickly, and we've figured this new work schedule out pretty quickly too with my new job. I think we're gonna be ok."
You see my huge fear when Garrett quit his job with my company and started working somewhere else was that we were going to lose all of our fun time connecting: the laughs while we commuted, the chats during our afternoon walks -- OMG WE WILL NEVER SEE EACH OTHER ANYMORE!!! When our second car went into the shop last week after our other car had already been in the shop for a week Garrett had a baby panic attack about how we would keep living with only one car -- OMG HOW WILL WE SURVIVE WITHOUT TWO CARS, IT'S NOT POSSIBLE WITH OUR WILDLY MODERN LIFE!!!
So anyway --spoiler alert-- we are surviving! And we are still connected! And our wildly modern life has adapted with only one car! In some ways things are actually better because with a little smart scheduling on Garrett's part I drop him off in the morning and pick him up around lunch and we get to chit chat and whatnot. It's a nice interuption in a long day of work, and we both get where we need to go, and can still hang out and share what's going on in our days. And we have not even missed a second car sitting in the garage all day.
We were so quick to be fearful of what change was going bring, and of course it has brought some challenges. But it made me realize that we are both so quick to underestimate our ability to adapt. This doesn't really have a point, I'm sorry to say, but I guess I just wanted to quickly remind myself that change is only scary if I let it be. I've been so negative around these parts lately I just wanted to put it down on paper (ha! or the internet) that instead of choosing to be stressed or fearful, I want to continue to channel that energy into building my own confidence in myself, my decisions, my reactions,my relationship, and my life. It seems so much more effective than worrying about what potentially lies ahead, so damnnit I'm going to try! I may have said I don't like change, but if you've been around here long enough you know I love a good challenge.
"The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own' or 'real' life. The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life." -- C.S. Lewis
You see my huge fear when Garrett quit his job with my company and started working somewhere else was that we were going to lose all of our fun time connecting: the laughs while we commuted, the chats during our afternoon walks -- OMG WE WILL NEVER SEE EACH OTHER ANYMORE!!! When our second car went into the shop last week after our other car had already been in the shop for a week Garrett had a baby panic attack about how we would keep living with only one car -- OMG HOW WILL WE SURVIVE WITHOUT TWO CARS, IT'S NOT POSSIBLE WITH OUR WILDLY MODERN LIFE!!!
So anyway --spoiler alert-- we are surviving! And we are still connected! And our wildly modern life has adapted with only one car! In some ways things are actually better because with a little smart scheduling on Garrett's part I drop him off in the morning and pick him up around lunch and we get to chit chat and whatnot. It's a nice interuption in a long day of work, and we both get where we need to go, and can still hang out and share what's going on in our days. And we have not even missed a second car sitting in the garage all day.
We were so quick to be fearful of what change was going bring, and of course it has brought some challenges. But it made me realize that we are both so quick to underestimate our ability to adapt. This doesn't really have a point, I'm sorry to say, but I guess I just wanted to quickly remind myself that change is only scary if I let it be. I've been so negative around these parts lately I just wanted to put it down on paper (ha! or the internet) that instead of choosing to be stressed or fearful, I want to continue to channel that energy into building my own confidence in myself, my decisions, my reactions,my relationship, and my life. It seems so much more effective than worrying about what potentially lies ahead, so damnnit I'm going to try! I may have said I don't like change, but if you've been around here long enough you know I love a good challenge.
"The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own' or 'real' life. The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life." -- C.S. Lewis
June 10, 2010
Prayers
The other day when I got pulled over for my license plate debacle, I glibly mentioned that the questioning officer should perhaps busy himself with fighting crime rather than pull me over for some tedious administrative offense. Though I still partially stand by that idea, the last 24 hours have me feeling slightly more contemplative about the whole situation. I live in a fairly nice neighborhood in the outskirts of Sacramento and my 20 minute commute every morning is basically a nice drive down a major arterial street that makes its way through most of town. Yesterday as I was heading back to the office after lunch, an apartment building that I pass by daily was being swarmed by police cars. Then on my home from work last night, that entire section of the road was blocked off and vehicles were being detoured to other routes. I turned on the news to find out there was a hostage situation happening in said apartment complex and SWAT teams had set up shop as an armed man inside one of the units held a 16 month old child inside, while his mother had to watch helplessly from across the street.
Two years ago my cousin John graduated from the Police Academy. The entire ceremony was pretty powerful – all the uniformed, clean cut men and women seated in perfectly aligned rows in front of a giant American flag. The men in charge of their training outlined what they had spent the previous 8 months doing, and all of us listened intently swelling with pride over what a huge accomplishment this was for John. The thing that resonated with me the most, and the part that still plays in my head two years later was when one of the speakers pleaded with all of us who had come to support our family members up on stage: “These men and women have spent months training to spend the rest of their lives seeing and experiencing things that no person should have to see. And there is a price to be paid for that. They will need the support of their friends and family to get them through those tougher times.”
Obviously hearing that and thinking about my little cousin John (who isn’t quite so little anymore, actually) was pretty emotional. Though he has seemed to adjust into his new role well in the past two years, I think of those words often when I see any type of law enforcement officers – whether around town, in the news, hell, sometimes I even shed a little tear thinking about it when I see cops on TV. These men and women, these peace officers, these SWAT team members all have families or spouses, children and parents. They come home each night to their same homes nestled in the fairly nice neighborhoods of Sacramento and they download the events of their day just like I do mine.
When I look at these pictures that have been in the news over the last 24 hours, images that make me feel like I’m watching a scripted episode of some prime time television drama, all I can think about is how all those men and women are going to feel when they get home from work tonight – what they will tell their spouses about the events of their day, or the challenges they encountered. I think about the mother they are representing who is being forced to stand by and watch, of the child that they are protecting who is too little to help himself, of the intensity of those moments with their weapons drawn and the unpredictability of what is going to happen next, and all I can feel is gratitude -- gratitude for the officers themselves, and of course for the families that support them. It is a sad situation, and one that I hope works out peacefully in the end. And when I contemplate the severity of everything is going on in that little apartment complex that I see every single day, I think to myself that the least I can do is affix my stupid license plate without throwing a tantrum over it.
(If you have a minute, think some positive thoughts for that little toddler and his family today would ya. And for all of the officers trying to rescue him safely.)
Two years ago my cousin John graduated from the Police Academy. The entire ceremony was pretty powerful – all the uniformed, clean cut men and women seated in perfectly aligned rows in front of a giant American flag. The men in charge of their training outlined what they had spent the previous 8 months doing, and all of us listened intently swelling with pride over what a huge accomplishment this was for John. The thing that resonated with me the most, and the part that still plays in my head two years later was when one of the speakers pleaded with all of us who had come to support our family members up on stage: “These men and women have spent months training to spend the rest of their lives seeing and experiencing things that no person should have to see. And there is a price to be paid for that. They will need the support of their friends and family to get them through those tougher times.”
Obviously hearing that and thinking about my little cousin John (who isn’t quite so little anymore, actually) was pretty emotional. Though he has seemed to adjust into his new role well in the past two years, I think of those words often when I see any type of law enforcement officers – whether around town, in the news, hell, sometimes I even shed a little tear thinking about it when I see cops on TV. These men and women, these peace officers, these SWAT team members all have families or spouses, children and parents. They come home each night to their same homes nestled in the fairly nice neighborhoods of Sacramento and they download the events of their day just like I do mine.
When I look at these pictures that have been in the news over the last 24 hours, images that make me feel like I’m watching a scripted episode of some prime time television drama, all I can think about is how all those men and women are going to feel when they get home from work tonight – what they will tell their spouses about the events of their day, or the challenges they encountered. I think about the mother they are representing who is being forced to stand by and watch, of the child that they are protecting who is too little to help himself, of the intensity of those moments with their weapons drawn and the unpredictability of what is going to happen next, and all I can feel is gratitude -- gratitude for the officers themselves, and of course for the families that support them. It is a sad situation, and one that I hope works out peacefully in the end. And when I contemplate the severity of everything is going on in that little apartment complex that I see every single day, I think to myself that the least I can do is affix my stupid license plate without throwing a tantrum over it.
(If you have a minute, think some positive thoughts for that little toddler and his family today would ya. And for all of the officers trying to rescue him safely.)
May 17, 2010
Tree of Life
I lived in the same house from the time I was very small until I was 17 years old. When it was my turn to move out of the house, my parents did as well and it was sort of this weird simultaneous transition. They say you can’t go home again, and the truth for me was, I couldn’t. Ever since that house I’ve lived in a number of different apartments and in many different places: college in San Luis Obispo and then Los Angeles just because (in Westwood right by UCLA, then in Mar Vista right by Marina del Rey). After that I headed up to Sacramento where I have lived Downtown, then in East Sacramento and now in the suburban outskirts of Carmichael (which trust me, are all very different living experiences). With each move I have become more efficient with that dance of systematically unpacking my stuff, setting up a brand new life, finding Target and the grocery store and the good gas stations, and then of course trying to make my house a home. But part of me was always still searching for something.
I’ve always had a bit of wanderlust. I’ve discussed that here before, I love to travel and when I do I rarely go for fancy hotels. I much prefer renting a house or a condo in my destination, and pretending – even if just for a weekend – that this is my home. It’s fun to play the part of a whole new life. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who was adaptable. I’ve always though I could pick and move anywhere at anytime. It’s something I know how to do, something I do well even – moving from place to place and always finding where I belong there.
I think I took for granted the stability of my home growing up, but I mean what can you expect? I was a kid and idyllic suburbia was all I knew. I longed for “bigger and better” things as I grew up – living in the city, or having a fun apartment downtown – whatever it was. But as I’ve gotten older, moved around, and lived in different places I have such a better appreciation for everything my parents did to make our house more than just this place we all slept. It was home. And of course even though I have had great living experiences in my 32 years -- lived in fun and quirky places, had some fantastic roommates (and some not so fantastic ones, too!) -- I still found myself in search of that feeling of home and often wondered what it would feel like as an adult.
Yesterday afternoon I fell asleep on the couch as I often do on a lazy Sunday afternoon. I took a catnap with the sun coming in the windows just a bit making the house that perfect temperature for snoozing. It was quiet and when I woke up Garrett was tip-toeing around the house cleaning things up in the kitchen.
“I’ve never seen you sleep more soundly than you do at this house.”
And it’s true (although truth be told regardless of chair, bed, or couch, I can be a champion sleeper in any locale.) But even more than that, I realized – I do sleep sounder here. I breathe deeper here. Moving in to this particular house with this particular boy has – at the risk of sounding a bit cheesy – been a bit of a homecoming. (Collective barfing can commence!) My favorite stuff and my favorite person are finally all in the same location. No more subconscious worrying about one or the other. No more shuttling back and forth on the weekends. No more buying groceries for one house just to end up having them spoil because you both are staying at the other house.
THIS, is home.
And you all, it is like this giant exhale for my soul.
And I know you are probably thinking to yourself – hey genius, it’s already been a year and you are just getting around to this epiphany now? And the answer to that is: kind of. What can I say; sometimes I’m slow on the uptake.
Lately I keep looking around the rooms of my house – our house – and seeing our intertwined lives in every single room. The things we’ve done together, the things we’ve chosen together, our shared tasks, and our shared goals. I’ve looked around at this house – well, at this life really – and seen roots. Which is exactly what I have always missed about my life with my parents in our little old house. This is the thing I have been looking for. This is the life I’ve been searching for. And I know that if you take this blog’s word for it, sometimes it is a small and mundane life -- who are we kidding, right? But even though it is a silly little life, you guys sometimes it is such a good life – and on days like yesterday I almost can’t believe my luck that I found it at all -- and can hardly believe that I get to watch it grow.
I’ve always had a bit of wanderlust. I’ve discussed that here before, I love to travel and when I do I rarely go for fancy hotels. I much prefer renting a house or a condo in my destination, and pretending – even if just for a weekend – that this is my home. It’s fun to play the part of a whole new life. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who was adaptable. I’ve always though I could pick and move anywhere at anytime. It’s something I know how to do, something I do well even – moving from place to place and always finding where I belong there.
I think I took for granted the stability of my home growing up, but I mean what can you expect? I was a kid and idyllic suburbia was all I knew. I longed for “bigger and better” things as I grew up – living in the city, or having a fun apartment downtown – whatever it was. But as I’ve gotten older, moved around, and lived in different places I have such a better appreciation for everything my parents did to make our house more than just this place we all slept. It was home. And of course even though I have had great living experiences in my 32 years -- lived in fun and quirky places, had some fantastic roommates (and some not so fantastic ones, too!) -- I still found myself in search of that feeling of home and often wondered what it would feel like as an adult.
Yesterday afternoon I fell asleep on the couch as I often do on a lazy Sunday afternoon. I took a catnap with the sun coming in the windows just a bit making the house that perfect temperature for snoozing. It was quiet and when I woke up Garrett was tip-toeing around the house cleaning things up in the kitchen.
“I’ve never seen you sleep more soundly than you do at this house.”
And it’s true (although truth be told regardless of chair, bed, or couch, I can be a champion sleeper in any locale.) But even more than that, I realized – I do sleep sounder here. I breathe deeper here. Moving in to this particular house with this particular boy has – at the risk of sounding a bit cheesy – been a bit of a homecoming. (Collective barfing can commence!) My favorite stuff and my favorite person are finally all in the same location. No more subconscious worrying about one or the other. No more shuttling back and forth on the weekends. No more buying groceries for one house just to end up having them spoil because you both are staying at the other house.
THIS, is home.
And you all, it is like this giant exhale for my soul.
And I know you are probably thinking to yourself – hey genius, it’s already been a year and you are just getting around to this epiphany now? And the answer to that is: kind of. What can I say; sometimes I’m slow on the uptake.
Lately I keep looking around the rooms of my house – our house – and seeing our intertwined lives in every single room. The things we’ve done together, the things we’ve chosen together, our shared tasks, and our shared goals. I’ve looked around at this house – well, at this life really – and seen roots. Which is exactly what I have always missed about my life with my parents in our little old house. This is the thing I have been looking for. This is the life I’ve been searching for. And I know that if you take this blog’s word for it, sometimes it is a small and mundane life -- who are we kidding, right? But even though it is a silly little life, you guys sometimes it is such a good life – and on days like yesterday I almost can’t believe my luck that I found it at all -- and can hardly believe that I get to watch it grow.
April 29, 2010
House Husbands, FTW!
So I'm just going to throw this out there -- I kind of love having a house husband and I highly recommend everyone get one. It's kind of life changing.
All sexist kidding aside though, it is absolutely ASTOUNDING how much less chaotic our lives our have been since Garrett stopped working two weeks ago. (You know, except for when I royally screwed things up.) But even when I was screwing things up -- I had support! And Garrett has kindly made himself available for whatever I need. And made my lunch (today was burgers and caramelized onions!) And ran errands I have been dreading, and oh my stars you all, it has seriously been so darn nice.
One of the things I have been trying to be especially conscious of during this transition is expressing my gratitude for all the things Garrett has been doing around the house. I was lucky growing up and my mom stayed home. I was spoiled, really. But I so clearly remember her often saying it was a thankless job and people definitely used to question what my mom did all day since she didn't work. (HA!) Boy did that used to burn her up because, as she would clarify -- it wasn't that she didn't work, it was that she didn't work outside the home. And I'll tell you if I learned one thing, I learned real quick that there was a difference between the two, and I best realize that staying home was a job!
And years later I love her to pieces for being so excellent at it!
So one of the consequences of my upbringing is that I'm very aware of the value of domestic tasks. So I have tried to really have gratitude each day that while I have been in the office, Garrett has been busting tail at home. And he has! I mean of course he has done some relaxing too. I think he has been through like 5 Audio books, but I know I've told you before that he likes to listen to those while he cleans, so you can bet our house looks spic and span because of it.
But he has done so many other things too -- things that languish on our "If we had but time and energy" to do list? I know you know this list. You have this list, I'm sure of it. Things like totally cleaning out and reorganizing our freezer (swoon!). Organizing the garage (ick!). Dealing with our yards (Achoo!). Doing our endless stack of dishes (since we don't have a dishwasher). Tackling the mass amounts of laundry that resulted from vacations, and guests, and life - OH MY! You see all of these things would probably still be on the list if he would have been at work too. We would probably be trying to figure out a way to split up those tasks so they could all get done and because of that it feels hugely decadent that I haven't done a load of laundry, or washed a dish in...well, weeks. And you guys, we don't even have kids! So my mind is seriously boggling over how to juggle being two working parents, plus life, plus (OMG!) kids. Hat tip to all of you who do that because the past few weeks have really underscored to me how much energy that really must take!
And seriously, speaking of energy, my mom had like crazy, freak energy when I was growing up! I mean she really Ran our household (and I'm sure at times it felt like a never ending hamster wheel). She taught me alot. And it's made me realize that the idea of keeping a house today is such a lost art! Where's Mad Men when I need it?!? And I'm don't mean to be Judgy McJudgerpants about it -- there's a million different reasons we don't all "keep house" and we don't need to get into here, and of course we all choose what's best for our own families so it's not my intention to offend anyone or make anyone feel bad as if there was a right way to live life. But I know for me, having these couple weeks with Garrett staying home have really highlighted the huge value in having a life without much chaos. It feels like a luxury. And now that I have seen what things could be like (insert dramatic voice here) I don't know how I will ever adjust if we go back to how it was!
But you know, it's been a learning experience. Whether, in the future, we are able to stay afloat with only one of us working, or whether we choose jobs that have more work from home flexibility (Dooce is on that, right?), or whether we both go back to work and end up juggling our multiple priorities as best we can, I know I will savor the imprint that this time in my life has made on me. And I hope to hold it close like a compass in the future when I'm trying to decide which direction to go.
All sexist kidding aside though, it is absolutely ASTOUNDING how much less chaotic our lives our have been since Garrett stopped working two weeks ago. (You know, except for when I royally screwed things up.) But even when I was screwing things up -- I had support! And Garrett has kindly made himself available for whatever I need. And made my lunch (today was burgers and caramelized onions!) And ran errands I have been dreading, and oh my stars you all, it has seriously been so darn nice.
One of the things I have been trying to be especially conscious of during this transition is expressing my gratitude for all the things Garrett has been doing around the house. I was lucky growing up and my mom stayed home. I was spoiled, really. But I so clearly remember her often saying it was a thankless job and people definitely used to question what my mom did all day since she didn't work. (HA!) Boy did that used to burn her up because, as she would clarify -- it wasn't that she didn't work, it was that she didn't work outside the home. And I'll tell you if I learned one thing, I learned real quick that there was a difference between the two, and I best realize that staying home was a job!
And years later I love her to pieces for being so excellent at it!
So one of the consequences of my upbringing is that I'm very aware of the value of domestic tasks. So I have tried to really have gratitude each day that while I have been in the office, Garrett has been busting tail at home. And he has! I mean of course he has done some relaxing too. I think he has been through like 5 Audio books, but I know I've told you before that he likes to listen to those while he cleans, so you can bet our house looks spic and span because of it.
But he has done so many other things too -- things that languish on our "If we had but time and energy" to do list? I know you know this list. You have this list, I'm sure of it. Things like totally cleaning out and reorganizing our freezer (swoon!). Organizing the garage (ick!). Dealing with our yards (Achoo!). Doing our endless stack of dishes (since we don't have a dishwasher). Tackling the mass amounts of laundry that resulted from vacations, and guests, and life - OH MY! You see all of these things would probably still be on the list if he would have been at work too. We would probably be trying to figure out a way to split up those tasks so they could all get done and because of that it feels hugely decadent that I haven't done a load of laundry, or washed a dish in...well, weeks. And you guys, we don't even have kids! So my mind is seriously boggling over how to juggle being two working parents, plus life, plus (OMG!) kids. Hat tip to all of you who do that because the past few weeks have really underscored to me how much energy that really must take!
And seriously, speaking of energy, my mom had like crazy, freak energy when I was growing up! I mean she really Ran our household (and I'm sure at times it felt like a never ending hamster wheel). She taught me alot. And it's made me realize that the idea of keeping a house today is such a lost art! Where's Mad Men when I need it?!? And I'm don't mean to be Judgy McJudgerpants about it -- there's a million different reasons we don't all "keep house" and we don't need to get into here, and of course we all choose what's best for our own families so it's not my intention to offend anyone or make anyone feel bad as if there was a right way to live life. But I know for me, having these couple weeks with Garrett staying home have really highlighted the huge value in having a life without much chaos. It feels like a luxury. And now that I have seen what things could be like (insert dramatic voice here) I don't know how I will ever adjust if we go back to how it was!
But you know, it's been a learning experience. Whether, in the future, we are able to stay afloat with only one of us working, or whether we choose jobs that have more work from home flexibility (Dooce is on that, right?), or whether we both go back to work and end up juggling our multiple priorities as best we can, I know I will savor the imprint that this time in my life has made on me. And I hope to hold it close like a compass in the future when I'm trying to decide which direction to go.
April 27, 2010
How to Be Highly Ineffective
You guys! Ooooh you guys! I am usually so organized!
Really, organization is one of my favorite things. I have so many systems in my life and my house that for the most part my life runs fairly seamlessly. But sometimes I can be so dependant on those systems, that if I am doing something that doesn't involve a system, my brain totally wigs out! Like I basically fail at ad-libbing life!
I can be seriously forgetful sometimes and I will fully admit that it is not my best quality. I often forget things Garrett has said the day prior and entire conversations that we have. And it's not just conversations -- sometimes I get in the shower and start shampooing only to think to myself, "Did I already do this?" Granted, that's before coffee...but you get what I'm saying. Every once in a while though, Garrett will say to me with frustration (and rightfully so), "Holly, next time can you try harder to remember?" But hell if I have any idea on where to start with that one.
HOW DOES ONE TRY HARDER TO REMEMBER WHEN ONE IS ALREADY HAVING ISSUES WITH FORGETTING?
You guys, am I getting Alzheimer's in my 30s or am I just totally living unconsciously???
Anyway.
So usually I rationalize this behavior because it is just silly, tedious things. I run to the store for two things, and come home with twenty but forget the two items I actually ran down there for (though obvs for big shops I make lists -- organized by section, mind you!) or I do stupid things like decide to get gas on the way home after work and then promptly get into my car and drive home without stopping at any of the 10 gas stations I pass on the way and then pull into my driveway and see the little light go on. Ugh.
But I do have a calendar so I'm not a total heathen. If something is important I write it down in a few different places, and I am proud to say I rarely (if ever) completely blow it and miss something I have committed to. Really I don't. You are probably finding this hard to believe now that I have basically confessed to walking into a room and forgetting why I am there, but I promise you I'm not a total screw up. But the issue then becomes -- am I as prepared as I had meant to be for this thing I have (luckily) showed up for, and the answer, sadly, is not always in the way that I would like to be. And this flaw of mine is starting to take its toll.
Take today for example. Today I walked into work feeling like it was just any other day, only to open up my calendar and see that tonight is the night I have committed myself to helping cook dinner at St. John's Shelter. I've told you before that I do this, and I love it although it is a big production what with the grocery shopping, preparing, and serving. It takes some time is what I'm saying. But you guys, I almost forgot about this!!! And do you know what kind of anxiety it induces when you accidentally forget you are sort of HOSTING A DINNER FOR 120 PEOPLE IN A FEW HOURS AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THE MENU? AND YOU ARE STUCK AT WORK.
(Just remembering that gave me heart palpitations.)
So, instead of having an enjoyable lunch break (which was desperately needed since the word rough does not even begin to describe my work day today) I called the Chef and St. John's for some inspiration, went to Costco and bought dinner supplies, drove them all the way back to my house, grabbed a change of clothes more suited to cooking and serving, cancelled on my gym class tonight that I was totally looking forward to, talked Garrett into meeting me after work with the perishables so I could skip out on work as late as possible and still get there by 4:30 (Yes, I have to take off work early to do this. No I had not asked my boss if that was ok. Yes I'm sure she was thrilled.) and then headed back to work.
Sigh. This was not relaxing.
And you know what the sad part is. I totally KNEW I was going to forget this when I signed up for it. I knew this was a hectic time for me, but volunteered anyway. I knew that I would write this on my home calendar and then promptly ignore it. And because I knew I was going to forget, as a last resort I put it on my work calendar, because Lotus Notes absolutely tells me where to go and what to do 8 hours a day 5 days a week, and I wish I were kidding about that. But seriously...thank god I did that! But that was a little too close for comfort. Like I really could have screwed this up and these people who were counting on me would have had a totally different experience. And I would have had no excuses.
Ugh. I just hate that feeling.
I almost really effed some stuff up today and I feel bad about it. I don't want to be someone who goes through life so unconscious that I make these kinds of screw-ups, but I also have a lot of stuff I want to do and find myself taking things on, and multi-tasking in a way that is not productive sometimes. But slowing down and "trying harder to remember" are just things that don't come naturally. But I need to get this under control. It's probably no surprise that while writing this I checked my email (because yes I compulsively multi-task even though I hate) but what is surprising is that I found a notice from my Library that a book I put on hold a while back is ready for pick up -- Steven Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I actually reserved it for Garrett because I found it really helpful for me about a decade ago -- but I'm starting to think maybe it's me who needs to give it a second look. The Universe has a funny way of bringing us exactly what we need when we need it, I think. I'm just thinking it's just too bad it didn't show up with dinner for 120!
But I guess I probably deserve to be on my own for that one.
Really, organization is one of my favorite things. I have so many systems in my life and my house that for the most part my life runs fairly seamlessly. But sometimes I can be so dependant on those systems, that if I am doing something that doesn't involve a system, my brain totally wigs out! Like I basically fail at ad-libbing life!
I can be seriously forgetful sometimes and I will fully admit that it is not my best quality. I often forget things Garrett has said the day prior and entire conversations that we have. And it's not just conversations -- sometimes I get in the shower and start shampooing only to think to myself, "Did I already do this?" Granted, that's before coffee...but you get what I'm saying. Every once in a while though, Garrett will say to me with frustration (and rightfully so), "Holly, next time can you try harder to remember?" But hell if I have any idea on where to start with that one.
HOW DOES ONE TRY HARDER TO REMEMBER WHEN ONE IS ALREADY HAVING ISSUES WITH FORGETTING?
You guys, am I getting Alzheimer's in my 30s or am I just totally living unconsciously???
Anyway.
So usually I rationalize this behavior because it is just silly, tedious things. I run to the store for two things, and come home with twenty but forget the two items I actually ran down there for (though obvs for big shops I make lists -- organized by section, mind you!) or I do stupid things like decide to get gas on the way home after work and then promptly get into my car and drive home without stopping at any of the 10 gas stations I pass on the way and then pull into my driveway and see the little light go on. Ugh.
But I do have a calendar so I'm not a total heathen. If something is important I write it down in a few different places, and I am proud to say I rarely (if ever) completely blow it and miss something I have committed to. Really I don't. You are probably finding this hard to believe now that I have basically confessed to walking into a room and forgetting why I am there, but I promise you I'm not a total screw up. But the issue then becomes -- am I as prepared as I had meant to be for this thing I have (luckily) showed up for, and the answer, sadly, is not always in the way that I would like to be. And this flaw of mine is starting to take its toll.
Take today for example. Today I walked into work feeling like it was just any other day, only to open up my calendar and see that tonight is the night I have committed myself to helping cook dinner at St. John's Shelter. I've told you before that I do this, and I love it although it is a big production what with the grocery shopping, preparing, and serving. It takes some time is what I'm saying. But you guys, I almost forgot about this!!! And do you know what kind of anxiety it induces when you accidentally forget you are sort of HOSTING A DINNER FOR 120 PEOPLE IN A FEW HOURS AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THE MENU? AND YOU ARE STUCK AT WORK.
(Just remembering that gave me heart palpitations.)
So, instead of having an enjoyable lunch break (which was desperately needed since the word rough does not even begin to describe my work day today) I called the Chef and St. John's for some inspiration, went to Costco and bought dinner supplies, drove them all the way back to my house, grabbed a change of clothes more suited to cooking and serving, cancelled on my gym class tonight that I was totally looking forward to, talked Garrett into meeting me after work with the perishables so I could skip out on work as late as possible and still get there by 4:30 (Yes, I have to take off work early to do this. No I had not asked my boss if that was ok. Yes I'm sure she was thrilled.) and then headed back to work.
Sigh. This was not relaxing.
And you know what the sad part is. I totally KNEW I was going to forget this when I signed up for it. I knew this was a hectic time for me, but volunteered anyway. I knew that I would write this on my home calendar and then promptly ignore it. And because I knew I was going to forget, as a last resort I put it on my work calendar, because Lotus Notes absolutely tells me where to go and what to do 8 hours a day 5 days a week, and I wish I were kidding about that. But seriously...thank god I did that! But that was a little too close for comfort. Like I really could have screwed this up and these people who were counting on me would have had a totally different experience. And I would have had no excuses.
Ugh. I just hate that feeling.
I almost really effed some stuff up today and I feel bad about it. I don't want to be someone who goes through life so unconscious that I make these kinds of screw-ups, but I also have a lot of stuff I want to do and find myself taking things on, and multi-tasking in a way that is not productive sometimes. But slowing down and "trying harder to remember" are just things that don't come naturally. But I need to get this under control. It's probably no surprise that while writing this I checked my email (because yes I compulsively multi-task even though I hate) but what is surprising is that I found a notice from my Library that a book I put on hold a while back is ready for pick up -- Steven Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I actually reserved it for Garrett because I found it really helpful for me about a decade ago -- but I'm starting to think maybe it's me who needs to give it a second look. The Universe has a funny way of bringing us exactly what we need when we need it, I think. I'm just thinking it's just too bad it didn't show up with dinner for 120!
But I guess I probably deserve to be on my own for that one.
March 25, 2010
Clear As Mud
Last night I felt beat up after a long day and when I pulled in the driveway there was a cat in my front yard that proceeded to stare me down and give me the evil eye the entire time it was taking a giant dump on my lawn. It then got up and walked away as it wagged its victorious tail at me and I laughed thinking that it was just such a fitting metaphor for how I felt. A bit of The Anxiety has been creeping into my life lately. I have had some confusing things to think about and impending big decisions that will ultimately need to me made, and yes I know I’m being Vaguey McVaguerson at this point, but trust me when I tell you that the specifics don’t really matter. What matters is how do you know when you are making The Right Decision?
That’s kind of a stupid question I realize, because I firmly subscribe to the philosophy that there is no Right or Wrong - but I’m still stewing on it. Actually Amber tweeted something the other day that pretty much summed up my feeling about the illusion that is "right and wrong" or "good and bad", for that matter.
Behold! Twitter wisdom:
I find this so true when you think about it! Everything is relative. Hell, just call me Einstein. Something that was devastating and awful at one point in life may later be fruitful in a way that you never imagined. The universe has a funny way of working in that manner I’ve learned, so I generally try to make difficult times a springboard for growth and appreciate that I may not have ever encountered that opportunity had the difficult time never come about. And while I really do feel like things always end up working out in the end if you have the right attitude (whether it happened the way I wanted it to, or the way I thought it should) I still struggle A LOT what the hell to do in the meantime? What do you do when that anxiety creeps in and you feel like you are standing at a fork in the road? You know things will work out no matter what path you choose because you are capable and can make the best of any situations, but you are still not exactly sure which road to take. That, is a confusing moment.
Henry David Thoreau is always quoted as saying “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams,” and there are times in life when this is so black and white that I have no problem putting my confident face on and getting moving. But it is those times when I’m not sure if it’s my own dreams that I am chasing or the dreams other people have for me. How does one know that they are in possession of a dream that should be pursued with confidence? Where is the instruction manual? I have tried to google it to no avail! Because the problem is sometimes I dream of living on an artists’ commune, sometimes I dream of having 5 children and home-schooling all of them, sometimes I dream of having a corner office, sometimes I dream of travelling the world alone and speaking only to strangers, and sometimes I dream of taking a really long nap. Which dream is the right dream? I know having clarity makes all decisions easier, but how does one get clarity?
How do you make difficult decisions?
That’s kind of a stupid question I realize, because I firmly subscribe to the philosophy that there is no Right or Wrong - but I’m still stewing on it. Actually Amber tweeted something the other day that pretty much summed up my feeling about the illusion that is "right and wrong" or "good and bad", for that matter.
Behold! Twitter wisdom:
I find this so true when you think about it! Everything is relative. Hell, just call me Einstein. Something that was devastating and awful at one point in life may later be fruitful in a way that you never imagined. The universe has a funny way of working in that manner I’ve learned, so I generally try to make difficult times a springboard for growth and appreciate that I may not have ever encountered that opportunity had the difficult time never come about. And while I really do feel like things always end up working out in the end if you have the right attitude (whether it happened the way I wanted it to, or the way I thought it should) I still struggle A LOT what the hell to do in the meantime? What do you do when that anxiety creeps in and you feel like you are standing at a fork in the road? You know things will work out no matter what path you choose because you are capable and can make the best of any situations, but you are still not exactly sure which road to take. That, is a confusing moment.
Henry David Thoreau is always quoted as saying “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams,” and there are times in life when this is so black and white that I have no problem putting my confident face on and getting moving. But it is those times when I’m not sure if it’s my own dreams that I am chasing or the dreams other people have for me. How does one know that they are in possession of a dream that should be pursued with confidence? Where is the instruction manual? I have tried to google it to no avail! Because the problem is sometimes I dream of living on an artists’ commune, sometimes I dream of having 5 children and home-schooling all of them, sometimes I dream of having a corner office, sometimes I dream of travelling the world alone and speaking only to strangers, and sometimes I dream of taking a really long nap. Which dream is the right dream? I know having clarity makes all decisions easier, but how does one get clarity?
How do you make difficult decisions?
March 16, 2010
Care To Play Armchair Psychologist?
I was raised in a feminist household. I don’t think we called it that around the dinner table so maybe I should use a less inflammatory adjective, but as I grew older and became more aware of sociological concepts to my life, it seemed to fit. For the purpose of clarification, how I interpret that label to fit my house growing up is that men and women were equals. (Sidebar: I hate that feminist is such an inflammatory adjective, but that is another post. I’m not really looking to debate it here.) If you asked my father, a man raised by his mother and three sisters, he probably would have told you that our society should get on the matriarchal bus! He was a sweet guy, my dad, and he never let a day go by where he didn’t remind me that other people’s attitude toward gender roles should never be something that dictates what I choose to accomplish in my life. And even though he worked outside of the home and my mom always worked inside of the home, which is pretty darn traditional when you look at it, I never felt like I had to pigeonhole myself because I was female.
My foray into corporate America has surely tested that attitude. I’ve worked in offices where the men who play poker get ahead and the women with the corner offices are that stereotypical combination of bitchy and sterile. I have encountered that irritating type of unconscious sexism – which, in my opinion, is almost more anger inducing that those overt a-holes who think I should be barefoot in the kitchen and want to tell me about it. An example: I once had a disagreement with another female co-worker (a very respectful one, I might add, that the two of us resolved like adults) only to have her older, male, supervisor come over a day later and pat me on the shoulder and say, “Boy I’m so glad that’s over, I hate to see you girls fighting on the playground.” Thanks for comparing my professional and respectful disagreement to a catty, schoolyard cat-fight, buddy. Us women – we just love to hate each other! But even amidst all that, I think you deal with lots of different types of idiocy in life, and those with a gender bias are just one type, so I don’t generally let its existence really influence my career goals. And I’m in a good spot.
That’s all I really want to say about that, I think. I’m actually I’m starting to get anxiety over the Work-Discussion word count on here, so I will get to my point. (If nothing else this blog has made me realize that I know just how to bury the lede and should probably try to work on that. Thanks for indulging me, guys!) The point is that Garrett is not in the same good career place, and boy it is not for lack of trying, objective hand on a stack of bibles, I swear. Now granted, I am 3 years older than him, but if you put our career trajectories side by side, I have clearly had EXTREMELY better luck. And for no good reason really. It’s like this enormous mystery we keep trying to figure out. Garrett is the guy who never skipped a class in college. Got perfect grades. He was that guy who made friends with his Professors and some of them are even still his mentors today. He walked at graduation with all sorts of ropes and tassels and fanfare and acknowledgment, whereas I just kind of sat in the back with my friend giggling about potentially firing off some spitballs and rolling eyes at the people like Garrett. Yet he is not That Obnoxious Guy. He is well spoken, professional, and is hard working to a fault. He is basically an employer’s wet dream.
Yet here I am – The Breadwinner.
The Breadwinner.
That word feels like a ton of bricks.
The emotional fallout of Garrett’s career right now is something that has to be managed daily, and is definitely stressful, but what I am really struggling with is this idea of being The Breadwinner. (Enough with that word!) We joke about it in a lighthearted way, Garrett and I, but lately and I can’t for the life of me figure out why it's driving me nuts. I was raised in this house where I was clearly prepared for this role. Garrett and I certainly approach our relationship as a partnership and wholeheartedly support the idea that sometimes one person pulls more weight than the other. That's the benefit of partnership! It's written right in the contract! And with that in mind, there are areas in our relationship where Garrett pulls WAY MORE weight than me, so the problem isn’t that I feel resentful at all. I think it is just the pressure of it all. The responsibility, you know?
I wonder to myself if men feel this way? Do they struggle with the responsibility of being in charge of the winning of said bread or do they just accept that having this responsibility signifies success? I'm starting to wonder if after all this time, even though I always assumed I would go out into the world and kick ass and take names – if I unconsciously had an expectation in the back of my mind that I would pair up with someone who would have that role and I wouldn't have to worry about it. I mean, that’s the way it worked in my household, after all. Even though my mom could have gone out and worked, she chose not to. They chose not to have my mom work outside the home. And I wonder if maybe that is what I’m struggling with – the fact that at this point there really isn’t a choice. This is my role, and until Garrett finds something better, it is going to be my role. Or until we have kids it will be role. I mean, hell, what happens then? The mind boggles. My salary does the bulk of supporting us, and Garrett’s salary keeps us traveling, and eating the fancy cheese we like so much. I’m obviously over-simplifying our finances to the extreme right now…but internet – what is with me and my semantic allergic reaction???
Paging Dr. Internet…
My foray into corporate America has surely tested that attitude. I’ve worked in offices where the men who play poker get ahead and the women with the corner offices are that stereotypical combination of bitchy and sterile. I have encountered that irritating type of unconscious sexism – which, in my opinion, is almost more anger inducing that those overt a-holes who think I should be barefoot in the kitchen and want to tell me about it. An example: I once had a disagreement with another female co-worker (a very respectful one, I might add, that the two of us resolved like adults) only to have her older, male, supervisor come over a day later and pat me on the shoulder and say, “Boy I’m so glad that’s over, I hate to see you girls fighting on the playground.” Thanks for comparing my professional and respectful disagreement to a catty, schoolyard cat-fight, buddy. Us women – we just love to hate each other! But even amidst all that, I think you deal with lots of different types of idiocy in life, and those with a gender bias are just one type, so I don’t generally let its existence really influence my career goals. And I’m in a good spot.
That’s all I really want to say about that, I think. I’m actually I’m starting to get anxiety over the Work-Discussion word count on here, so I will get to my point. (If nothing else this blog has made me realize that I know just how to bury the lede and should probably try to work on that. Thanks for indulging me, guys!) The point is that Garrett is not in the same good career place, and boy it is not for lack of trying, objective hand on a stack of bibles, I swear. Now granted, I am 3 years older than him, but if you put our career trajectories side by side, I have clearly had EXTREMELY better luck. And for no good reason really. It’s like this enormous mystery we keep trying to figure out. Garrett is the guy who never skipped a class in college. Got perfect grades. He was that guy who made friends with his Professors and some of them are even still his mentors today. He walked at graduation with all sorts of ropes and tassels and fanfare and acknowledgment, whereas I just kind of sat in the back with my friend giggling about potentially firing off some spitballs and rolling eyes at the people like Garrett. Yet he is not That Obnoxious Guy. He is well spoken, professional, and is hard working to a fault. He is basically an employer’s wet dream.
Yet here I am – The Breadwinner.
The Breadwinner.
That word feels like a ton of bricks.
The emotional fallout of Garrett’s career right now is something that has to be managed daily, and is definitely stressful, but what I am really struggling with is this idea of being The Breadwinner. (Enough with that word!) We joke about it in a lighthearted way, Garrett and I, but lately and I can’t for the life of me figure out why it's driving me nuts. I was raised in this house where I was clearly prepared for this role. Garrett and I certainly approach our relationship as a partnership and wholeheartedly support the idea that sometimes one person pulls more weight than the other. That's the benefit of partnership! It's written right in the contract! And with that in mind, there are areas in our relationship where Garrett pulls WAY MORE weight than me, so the problem isn’t that I feel resentful at all. I think it is just the pressure of it all. The responsibility, you know?
I wonder to myself if men feel this way? Do they struggle with the responsibility of being in charge of the winning of said bread or do they just accept that having this responsibility signifies success? I'm starting to wonder if after all this time, even though I always assumed I would go out into the world and kick ass and take names – if I unconsciously had an expectation in the back of my mind that I would pair up with someone who would have that role and I wouldn't have to worry about it. I mean, that’s the way it worked in my household, after all. Even though my mom could have gone out and worked, she chose not to. They chose not to have my mom work outside the home. And I wonder if maybe that is what I’m struggling with – the fact that at this point there really isn’t a choice. This is my role, and until Garrett finds something better, it is going to be my role. Or until we have kids it will be role. I mean, hell, what happens then? The mind boggles. My salary does the bulk of supporting us, and Garrett’s salary keeps us traveling, and eating the fancy cheese we like so much. I’m obviously over-simplifying our finances to the extreme right now…but internet – what is with me and my semantic allergic reaction???
Paging Dr. Internet…
February 26, 2010
The Positive Power of Over-Thinking
So I bought three fun books from Amazon this week and I am eagerly anticipating their arrival. I’ve been checking my doorstep every single day even though I totally picked the cheap-o free shipping offer because...well, I'm cheap...and each day I think to myself, who knows, maybe Amazon will accidentally overnight them. I mean it could happen, right?
Right.
Anyway, the first book is the new Booklushes selection (Have you joined yet? What are you waiting for?) and although I’ve been dying to read it, I’m sort of scared because a lot of people have already said they are having a hard time getting into it. I’ve been on quite the bad book spree lately so I don’t know if my fragile little heart can take a tough-to-get-into type of book but we’ll see. Hell, it was only $5 so whatever.
The second book is a book about marriage…yes that’s right – I have no ring, no wedding date, and we are not married, yet I bought a book about how to make a marriage work. Hi, I'm not eager or anything. Oh and you just wait until you hear about the third.
The third book is a book about fertility. Yes as in for babies. That’s right, again let me remind you that I’m not married and surprisingly enough I am not even thinking about having a baby this year.
**Awwww, look at your confused face. It’s so cute.**
Trust me, there was a second after I submitted that order where I looked over my shoulder a little self-consciously and said to myself “I can’t believe you are making this purchase.”
But let me let you in on a little secret about me – I am obsessed with planning. As for execution, well I can be pretty good at flying by the seat of my pants, but truth be told usually if I even get to the Execution Phase on something it is because I have spent a ton of time analyzing or researching. And when it comes to marriage and family planning over the next few years – well let’s just say that it is a “topic of importance” on my mental radar.
Actually Jess wrote a post recently about her penchant for analyzing, and I swear it could have been a page right out of my own diary. Especially this part:
This is exactly how I feel -- especially the awareness part. If I know something is in my future, I’m going to try and prepare myself. And it is not because I think I will necessarily be more or less successful if I have done research or looked into certain options – I mean certainly I am goal oriented and of course I like to be right just as much as the next person -- but even more important than all that, I really want to live a life where I am conscious in the decisions that I make. I know that sounds a little woo-woo, let’s all hold hands in a drum circle while we sing, but I think it’s actually more practical than it seems.
Something Ariel said today in one of her posts really resonated with me in light of all this thinking I’ve been doing about the motivation of my analytical tendencies. First, a little back story. As someone who had prided herself on being conscious about who she is and not a real consumption-monger with respect to her pregnancy, Ariel felt sort of uncomfortable the first time she took her new baby for a walk in a super-fancy-pants stroller that was gifted to her. It seemed so against everything she was to be pushing around this Cadillac of strollers:
That really spoke to me – especially about making decisions thoughtfully and doing things the way I want to do them, not the way I think they should be done. Being aware of the choices I make is a process, and one that ultimately makes me feel empowered. Analyzing things a bazillion years before they happen for me is less about making the right decision and more about knowing that I am making the right decision for me at the time.
And yeah, sometimes that does make me feel uncomfortable. Sometimes that does give me a moment of panic where I say – "Holy hell who is this person thinking about retirement accounts and car safety ratings before my next purchase and strategies for marriage and planning physically to have a baby? Who is this person that comes home on a Friday night after a long week and prefers to curl up on the couch with a new library book and go to bed early rather than bee-line to the bar with friends?" And while I am definitely aware that life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans and all that -- I like to think that for me it is less about actually making plans, and more about ensuring that for those few hours that I am awake each day that I’m not sleepwalking through my life. Though all this thinking sure has made me want a nap....
Right.
Anyway, the first book is the new Booklushes selection (Have you joined yet? What are you waiting for?) and although I’ve been dying to read it, I’m sort of scared because a lot of people have already said they are having a hard time getting into it. I’ve been on quite the bad book spree lately so I don’t know if my fragile little heart can take a tough-to-get-into type of book but we’ll see. Hell, it was only $5 so whatever.
The second book is a book about marriage…yes that’s right – I have no ring, no wedding date, and we are not married, yet I bought a book about how to make a marriage work. Hi, I'm not eager or anything. Oh and you just wait until you hear about the third.
The third book is a book about fertility. Yes as in for babies. That’s right, again let me remind you that I’m not married and surprisingly enough I am not even thinking about having a baby this year.
**Awwww, look at your confused face. It’s so cute.**
Trust me, there was a second after I submitted that order where I looked over my shoulder a little self-consciously and said to myself “I can’t believe you are making this purchase.”
But let me let you in on a little secret about me – I am obsessed with planning. As for execution, well I can be pretty good at flying by the seat of my pants, but truth be told usually if I even get to the Execution Phase on something it is because I have spent a ton of time analyzing or researching. And when it comes to marriage and family planning over the next few years – well let’s just say that it is a “topic of importance” on my mental radar.
Actually Jess wrote a post recently about her penchant for analyzing, and I swear it could have been a page right out of my own diary. Especially this part:
I don’t feel the need to be prepared for every possible eventuality, and so I don’t freak out about the possibility of outrageous scenarios. But if I know something IS going to happen, or is LIKELY to happen, or I WANT it to happen…well, yeah. I think about it. I process it. I analyze it. And I try to move forward with as much awareness as possible.
This is exactly how I feel -- especially the awareness part. If I know something is in my future, I’m going to try and prepare myself. And it is not because I think I will necessarily be more or less successful if I have done research or looked into certain options – I mean certainly I am goal oriented and of course I like to be right just as much as the next person -- but even more important than all that, I really want to live a life where I am conscious in the decisions that I make. I know that sounds a little woo-woo, let’s all hold hands in a drum circle while we sing, but I think it’s actually more practical than it seems.
Something Ariel said today in one of her posts really resonated with me in light of all this thinking I’ve been doing about the motivation of my analytical tendencies. First, a little back story. As someone who had prided herself on being conscious about who she is and not a real consumption-monger with respect to her pregnancy, Ariel felt sort of uncomfortable the first time she took her new baby for a walk in a super-fancy-pants stroller that was gifted to her. It seemed so against everything she was to be pushing around this Cadillac of strollers:
Identity definition is important to me, and I want to make sure that the shift to motherhood doesn’t include blindly stumbling into things just because that’s supposedly how they’re done. I push a stroller now because I’m a mom, and that’s what moms do. Like so many other things in my life, it’s a question of intent and trying to stay truly alert to make each decision thoughtfully. I’ll take the discomfort of feeling like a self-conscious adolescent if it means I stop and take the time to truly consider what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. That discomfort tells me I’m not sleep-walking through this time in my life.
That really spoke to me – especially about making decisions thoughtfully and doing things the way I want to do them, not the way I think they should be done. Being aware of the choices I make is a process, and one that ultimately makes me feel empowered. Analyzing things a bazillion years before they happen for me is less about making the right decision and more about knowing that I am making the right decision for me at the time.
And yeah, sometimes that does make me feel uncomfortable. Sometimes that does give me a moment of panic where I say – "Holy hell who is this person thinking about retirement accounts and car safety ratings before my next purchase and strategies for marriage and planning physically to have a baby? Who is this person that comes home on a Friday night after a long week and prefers to curl up on the couch with a new library book and go to bed early rather than bee-line to the bar with friends?" And while I am definitely aware that life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans and all that -- I like to think that for me it is less about actually making plans, and more about ensuring that for those few hours that I am awake each day that I’m not sleepwalking through my life. Though all this thinking sure has made me want a nap....
February 23, 2010
Standing Knee Deep In A River Dying Of Thirst
I drive the same route home from work everyday -- no highways, down a long busy street, through a kind of expensive neighborhood, through a not very expensive neighborhood, and then through to our neighborhood which is a nice hybrid between the two. It's a monotonous commute, but a short one (20 minutes tops -- and that's if I hit traffic) so I am grateful. I don't pay attention too much to my surroundings, but when I'm just about home and I drive through that fancy schmancy neighborhood, there is one house that always sticks out. It's a nice big colonial house, with sturdy dark colored shutters and a cleanly landscaped lawn. It's a beautiful shade of gray with white trim and the most striking feature is the big red door.
You all, I LOVE this house.
And each day when I pass it, totally depending on the type of day that I have at work and depending on what mood I'm in, I have one of two thoughts:
1. I love this house -- I'm so happy I live in such a beautiful area and get to see this house everyday.
OR
2. I love this house -- WHY CAN'T I HAVE A PRETTY GRAY HOUSE WITH PRETTY WHITE TRIM AND GORGEOUS A RED DOOR AND WHEN WILL I EVER GET A BREAK, AND WHY IS IT ALL SO HAAAAAAAAAAAARD??? WAH!
*I'll let you decide which mood is which*
So recently I had a bit of a rough day, and I drove by the house as I always do, and sure enough said to myself pretty much everything in Option # 2 (plus a few melodramatic explatives, I'm sure) and then just a minute later I was pulling into my own driveway. I reached over and grabbed my purse, my lunch bag, my coat and got out of the car, and all of a sudden I looked up at my own house and really saw it -- my pretty gray house with the pretty white trim (granted it only has a regular old brown door) -- and I thought to myself, holy moses, I'm really only a coat of paint away. Sure it's not a sprawling colonial with a freshly manicured yard (BAHAHAHAHAHA!) but it's so close. And this one is mine. And this one is perfect, right now.
And I wondered how often do I do this?
How often do I make myself feel like something is so monumentally far away -- so far out of my reach that it is impossible -- when really the difference between the life that I have and the life that I want is as simple as a coat of paint? Because seriously, even on my worst day I could probably handle a coat of paint.
It was a strange moment of consciousness that afternoon, and one that I now think of almost daily on my drive home when I pass that house. Half of the battle of getting where you want to go, is being able to truly acknowledge where you are -- and letting that to be okay.
You all, I LOVE this house.
And each day when I pass it, totally depending on the type of day that I have at work and depending on what mood I'm in, I have one of two thoughts:
1. I love this house -- I'm so happy I live in such a beautiful area and get to see this house everyday.
OR
2. I love this house -- WHY CAN'T I HAVE A PRETTY GRAY HOUSE WITH PRETTY WHITE TRIM AND GORGEOUS A RED DOOR AND WHEN WILL I EVER GET A BREAK, AND WHY IS IT ALL SO HAAAAAAAAAAAARD??? WAH!
*I'll let you decide which mood is which*
So recently I had a bit of a rough day, and I drove by the house as I always do, and sure enough said to myself pretty much everything in Option # 2 (plus a few melodramatic explatives, I'm sure) and then just a minute later I was pulling into my own driveway. I reached over and grabbed my purse, my lunch bag, my coat and got out of the car, and all of a sudden I looked up at my own house and really saw it -- my pretty gray house with the pretty white trim (granted it only has a regular old brown door) -- and I thought to myself, holy moses, I'm really only a coat of paint away. Sure it's not a sprawling colonial with a freshly manicured yard (BAHAHAHAHAHA!) but it's so close. And this one is mine. And this one is perfect, right now.
And I wondered how often do I do this?
How often do I make myself feel like something is so monumentally far away -- so far out of my reach that it is impossible -- when really the difference between the life that I have and the life that I want is as simple as a coat of paint? Because seriously, even on my worst day I could probably handle a coat of paint.
It was a strange moment of consciousness that afternoon, and one that I now think of almost daily on my drive home when I pass that house. Half of the battle of getting where you want to go, is being able to truly acknowledge where you are -- and letting that to be okay.
February 12, 2010
Don't Mess With The Nest...
I don't know what it is with me lately, I'm thinking it's one half rainy weather and one half the season, but I have this insatiable urge to nest. All I want to do is be home in my cozy house (even though only one room is cozy at a time since our heater is still broken. Yes, because we haven't made one little phone call to fix it. Yes we are being lame about this). Even when it's not 70 degrees in every room at the same time, our house is still the best place in the world in my opinion, and it seems weird to think I ever lived anywhere else. This is my place. This is where I belong. There is something just so homey about where I live now, and I'm fairly certain it has something to do with the fact that my favorite things and my favorite person are now (FINALLY) in the same spot. (I will never EVER miss packing overnight bags).
But it's more than just loving my house. And it's not that I ONLY want to be there and I ONLY want to hang out with Garrett. It's just that in every free moment when I'm not at work, or grocery shopping, or going to the gym, or doing things for Junior League, I just have an overwhelming desire to be a homebody. To decompress. To download everything that I am taking in during the day and just have some quiet time with a book. With my sweetheart. With a warm dinner. With a program that brings me joy. With myself. I even have a low tolerance for running errands lately -- and a relatively unknown fact about me is that I LOVE errands. Something about making lists, crossing things off, getting things done has always sort of appealed to me, but lately I can't even get myself excited about going to Target. And that is when I know something is going on.
Before you get worried, I'm not depressed. It's not that I am listless and sad, in fact I'm quite the opposite. I've still been cooking and baking like a mad-woman, I've poured through more books in the last month than I did in the first quarter of last year and some have been delicious. I've even made some time to find some new music, get my fill of Netflix, and do some incredibly cathartic writing. All of which I am really excited about and even energized by, but I am definitely in my own head a bit. And, at least for me, when I am in a phase like this, there is no better place to experience everything than from your personal safe space -- which for me is curled up on the couch under a warm blanket, sitting with the person I love (you know, unless of course he's on the computer shooting zombies or watching an old movie). I'm brewing up ideas about the future and I'm regularly feeling inspired in almost every cell in my body. But it's a bit mentally exhausting, and I can't quite motivate myself to venture too far from home base as of late. I guess the reason I'm telling you all of this is partly to acknowledge what's going on myself, and partly to apologize to friends I just haven't seen or talked to as much lately. It's not you, it's me. hehe
Thank you for being patient.
But it's more than just loving my house. And it's not that I ONLY want to be there and I ONLY want to hang out with Garrett. It's just that in every free moment when I'm not at work, or grocery shopping, or going to the gym, or doing things for Junior League, I just have an overwhelming desire to be a homebody. To decompress. To download everything that I am taking in during the day and just have some quiet time with a book. With my sweetheart. With a warm dinner. With a program that brings me joy. With myself. I even have a low tolerance for running errands lately -- and a relatively unknown fact about me is that I LOVE errands. Something about making lists, crossing things off, getting things done has always sort of appealed to me, but lately I can't even get myself excited about going to Target. And that is when I know something is going on.
Before you get worried, I'm not depressed. It's not that I am listless and sad, in fact I'm quite the opposite. I've still been cooking and baking like a mad-woman, I've poured through more books in the last month than I did in the first quarter of last year and some have been delicious. I've even made some time to find some new music, get my fill of Netflix, and do some incredibly cathartic writing. All of which I am really excited about and even energized by, but I am definitely in my own head a bit. And, at least for me, when I am in a phase like this, there is no better place to experience everything than from your personal safe space -- which for me is curled up on the couch under a warm blanket, sitting with the person I love (you know, unless of course he's on the computer shooting zombies or watching an old movie). I'm brewing up ideas about the future and I'm regularly feeling inspired in almost every cell in my body. But it's a bit mentally exhausting, and I can't quite motivate myself to venture too far from home base as of late. I guess the reason I'm telling you all of this is partly to acknowledge what's going on myself, and partly to apologize to friends I just haven't seen or talked to as much lately. It's not you, it's me. hehe
Thank you for being patient.
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