Monday, May 23, 2016

Licked by a Tiger

The soft probing lips of a camel nuzzles my cheek and sends tingling sensations allover my surprised body, confounded by the sensory overload.  The wet sandpaper lick of a cat offers a sense of intimacy that makes me both pull back and fall into it with giggles and pleasure. The tiger's stealthily approach and giant tongue that goes up one side of my face and down the other, sends neurological synapses firing from my brain to my toes in wave patterns; I brace for the claws. The teeth. They never come. The overwhelming physical and emotional violation of this kind of intense engagement is hard to explain to both the tiger or others, unless they too have been reared or loved by one. My mother-in-law loved in this intense fashion.

The cost of loving like a wild beast is that some will fear you even as you learn to relax and accept it. As I grew more confident as a daughter-in-law and later as a mother, I was able to better appreciate that my mother-in-law loved me in her way. Still, I had to manage the intensity of her love, every time, and I spent a lot of time avoiding the licks of the tiger.

I often wished that she could have adjusted her approach to love to something that wasn't so overwhelming, so daunting. I was certain that she had never been told, but the truth is she could never hear it. No one can tell the tiger anything but perhaps the young, the pure of heart. My daughter once told her grandmother, in her firm child voice, "No. I don't like that Mimi." My husband and I looked up, curious. The look on Mimi's face was priceless, of shock, but then it gave way to a breaking smile. No one but the wee one dared to tell her no.

The child took the licks and earned the right to say no to the requests. Never the licks. Childhood is a time of intense relationship building, of intimate bonding, but as we grow, the need to connect to the wider, broader world, increases.

Those intense, well-meaning, licks, kept us isolated and apart. The tiger never learned and neither did I. Consider this. Anytime your licks create walls or gates to go up, you are making it harder to become one, to bring others together.


Thursday, May 19, 2016

The Gift of the Messenger

I have a theory that books can save lives, mine in particular. I think that the magic book or words will appear when needed. It's the middle of the night, but I'm in need of some saving so I open my Kindle and find this:

"Sure burnout comes from not taking care of yourself and burning the candle at both ends, but, more often, burnout comes from one or a combination of the following: 1. Lack of connection to purpose in what one’s working on, resulting in boredom, disinterest, and apathy 2. Lack of connection to people; not feeling seen or cared for, and not having a shared sense of purpose 3. Lack of celebration, appreciation, and acknowledgment for wins (little or big) 4. Lack of safety for vulnerability, creative expression, and authenticity 5. Lack of a reboot and recovery between projects or trips 6. Lack of empowerment and accountability, and not being and feeling well used 7. Lack of intention, presence, and therefore boundaries." 
-Anese Cavanaugh, Contagious Culture

A few pages later there is this example that brought into focus the discrepancy of views of the same problem between a leader and the team.

"In their eyes, Jackie swooped in constantly, disempowered her team, made them feel inadequate, and then turned into a martyr at sunrise. It didn’t feel good. Let’s play it out. Jackie had unintentionally written herself into the role of hero in that no one else could do the job but her. (But the team was actually highly capable—the team members just needed clear communication and direction.) She then quickly stepped into the role of perpetrator, energetically blaming and judging the team for not being capable, and taking opportunities away from team members. (They felt small, judged, and robbed of experience.) And then she fell victim to being overwhelmed. Because she was so overwhelmed, she was often late to meetings, didn’t respond to e-mail, and left meetings early. Her team members felt she thought she was more important than all of them. By not speaking up, the team members had played right into the cycle with their own story, making the cycle even stronger. The fix was simple. The team members gave feedback (with care) and then made requests. Jackie owned her impact and made amends. Then they all redesigned agreements for how they’d move forward together. There was no drama. Just accountability. We write ourselves into roles every."  
- Anese Cavanaugh, Contagious Culture 

No drama? That's out of my hands. With care? I need more information here because I put a lot of thought into the message, and it exploded big, fat, and ugly. Screaming, "The messenger is not the message," is of little use. It dawns on me, this problem is as old as time.

Messengers get shot or need to run fast. 

The message is only relevant if you search inside yourself, and it sticks. Soul searching has a way of making us better human beings if we do it honestly, and no one wants to tell you this stuff because it's hard. It's uncomfortable. Listen. Listen deep in your heart. I'm trying to help you. It's a gift to get a message like this, one that makes you wince, yes, but if you use it... 

Use the message to make you better, not to shoot me.




Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Quote

"If your work is not having the desired effect, you must look at it from all angles until you find the source of the problem. You must not merely observe the rivals in your field, but dissect and uncover their weaknesses. “Look wider and think further ahead” must be your motto."
Mastery

Sunday, March 13, 2016

An Evolution of Happiness


I just want you to be happy.
Thanks Mom. 

That felt like a ton of bricks when I went off to college. I didn’t know what would make me happy. I thought I was alone in this particular confusion, that I was born this way. There's some truth to this. Researchers at the University of Minnesota studied identical twins separated at birth and found that half of our happiness is hard wired; it’s in our genes. I’m a fairly serious, randomly funny, person that lives a messy life full of distractions, pot holes, and time warps. I would not say that I’m gentically programmed to be extremely happy, but I get that I, and you, are uniquely, genetically endowed- no other snowflake is like me or you. I thought happiness was follow this path to a good job and have a family on this timeline. However, who knew that learning the how and what it is that makes me, specifically me, happy would be so hazy.

Sometime in the mid two thousands with small babies in the house, my husband came in crowing about having heard the secret to happiness on the radio. I cocked my head.

Well?
It’s not what you think. It’s not the lottery, a powerful job, or money.
It’s two children under two?
It’s how close you live to your job!

A study had found that proximity or living close to your job, a short commute, was the key to happiness. At the time, we lived in Washington, DC, where no matter where you live, it takes forever to get where you need to go. A frustrating commute could turn a sane person crazy. From DC we would visit Athens and marvel that we could get anywhere in town in less than fifteen minutes. That moment was the set up for our intention to live some place that we could readily traverse.

My next external happiness clue came from a National Geographic story about the Blue Zones where pockets of longevity were studied that included, Loma Linda, CA, Sardinia, Italy, and Okinawa, Japan. Diets varied from vegan to Mediterranean, required no unusual exercise regimens beyond natural activities like walking but all of them had faith, family, and social networks that supported healthy behaviors. Happiness again seemed to be partly about location, a community having certain things in it.

The Harvard Grant Study which looked at a group of Harvard undergraduates over a seventy-five year period concluded that the best predictor of happiness is not the perfect job, not money, health, nor good looks, it's relationships. All you need is love.

Ok, so love and location.

The thing was, I was married, with kids, but I mostly wished I had some space, another location, from all that relating, love. Space to think in complete sentences. I missed my job where people listened to me, paid me money, and did what I said. I missed that, but not all of it, not the fifteen hour days, not eating takeout most nights, and not the just work, work, work. I wanted a better handle on my commute, my community, but also on my day to day life. I wanted to cook my own dinner. Read more books. There was something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. What else? Some big goal?

Research says one off events like getting a dream job or moving to Athens impact happiness but that these kinds of huge goals dissipate quickly which bring us to the ongoing twelve percent rooted in valuing faith, family, community, and work. 

I attend church regularly, I meditate occasionally, I work in the community frequently, and that family it keeps on loving me whether I’m happy or not, but work? Not eighty hour weeks that give us health problems. It’s co workers those social connections, but it’s also rewarding work. 

Rewarding work?

Rewarding work is about earned success, and you define how you earn this success- sales? Students taught? School lunches changed? Stories written? Films made? If you can discern your own project and discover the currency you value, work will be rewarding.

The pursuit of happiness is about discerning what makes you happy, but that is a kind of slippery thing. You have to notice what excites you. What do you love? What fuels your interest over time? Pay attention to what excites you. Notice your taste. Pay attention to your attention. I'll steal a line from Ira Glass, What make your world seem bigger, like a world you want to live in? A world with surprise? Joy? Then you have to learn to throw up the question, what's amusing to you? You have to figure out how to do this from where you are doing the work you do... so choose wisely. 

It's in your choices that you'll find your happiness, but you'll have to choose what makes you happy again and again and again. Happiness evolves.


Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Blessed be the...




When I finished my son's baby book, a compilation of photos from his first year of life, for his fifth birthday, I recalled John O'Donohue's poem "For Your Birthday." I had read it somewhere during those busy early childrearing years. Now, I think of the poem as his birthday approaches. The poem reminds me of the wild beauty this universe exhibits in it's quest to express life in its many forms. 

My kiddos are both mysterious, loving, kind, unique, and cursed to have me as their mother in the sense of whatever bent I give them, will be a bent from which they must eventually find release. In contrast, I have been shackled, smothered, loved, hugged, weighed down, and lifted up by their beings, downfalls, and special joys. I alternate between conjuring and entropy. I'm a little push here, a smidge of prodding there, or just a stir of the pot kind of parent, hopeful but not always trusting in leaving well enough alone, yes, a helicopter parent at times. Parenting has been an amazing privilege at which I have both failed miserably (yelled my head off at an innocent child) and soared spectacularly (held myself back to allow them space to take off)-- somedays on the same day. Even though I occasionally wish they would turn off the widgets spontaneously,  play the piano without prompting, or clean their room regularly, I remain in awe of my kiddos and their special ways. Some of us get distracted, forget, or have lost touch with what pushes our buttons to dive deep, fly solo, or love unquestioningly, thankfully, so far, not them. Happy birthday to my little guy, your mama loves you.



For Your Birthday
Blessed be the mind that dreamed the day
The blueprint of your life
Would begin to glow on earth,
Illuminating all the faces and voices
That would arrive to invite
Your soul to growth
Praised be your father and mother
Who loved you before you were;
And trusted to call you here
With no idea who you would be.
Blessed be those who have loved you
Into becoming who you were meant to be,
Blessed be those who have crossed your life
With dark gifts of hurt and loss
That have helped to school your mind
In the art of disappointment.
When desolation surrounded you,
Blessed be those who looked for you
And found you, their kind hands
Urgent to open a blue window
In the grey wall formed around you.
Blessed be the gifts you never notice,
Your health, eyes to behold the world,
Thoughts to countenance the unknown,
Memory to harvest vanished days,
Your heart to feel the world’s waves,
Your breath to breathe the nourishment
Of distance made intimate by earth.
On this echoing-day of your birth,
May you open the gift of solitude
In order to receive your soul;
Enter the generousity of silence
To hear your hidden heart,
Know the serenity of stillness
To be enfolded anew
By the miracle of your being.
– from Benedictus, by John O’Donohue

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Breathing into Being

The second I sense that I need to talk to someone in an open environment, meaning not with a specific platform, pressure enters and I sound ridiculous even to myself, or I clam up and say nothing- particularly in a group setting or party. It's exasperating! A tape plays in my head, "You're terrible at small talk, you can't do this." I get so busy listening to this con that I can't marshall my tongue to move or my brain to come up with a question. Sometimes, I practice a question beforehand, particularly for gatherings or parties, so I have some generic ice breaker at hand like, "What are your plans for the weekend, spring break, the holidays, etc." Sometimes I'm so busy playing that loser tune, even the prep question alludes my holely brain. Sometimes I stumble into meaningful conversation, but at heart I remain unsure of how to easily enter conversation about the ideas that interest me. 

Yesterday, I confessed my discomfort in asking for donations because it feels like sales- I'm terrible at sales, not a salesperson, blah, blah, blah. My friend eyed me over once and then said, "That's not true. Kim, you're very good at selling an idea you're passionate about. You've sold me before!" With that statement  and alternative perspective ringing around in my head, I went to an exhibit today that was in part in existence because I helped championed it.

Truth is I championed something because I couldn't find anyone else to do it. I asked other champions to hang with me and see what they could do with their ideas. Today I saw that the work of other people came out of that breath I was willing to blow months and months ago and realized what can happen when I half heartedly attempt to keep a beautiful thought alive- like at museum exhibit and a card game!

Now for less tape playing and more breathing... keep going!

That cool card game that got made as part of Upgrade Athens Co.
from the Discovery Museum exhibit of the Green Revolution




Friday, February 5, 2016

Quote

“Creativity is often misunderstood. People often think of it in terms of artistic work—unbridled, unguided effort that leads to beautiful effect. If you look deeper, however, you’ll find that some of the most inspiring art forms—haikus, sonatas, religious paintings—are fraught with constraints.” 
—Marissa Mayer, Yahoo! CEO