My Energizers

What are the objects, activities or qualities that help you feel energized? This is the question in Week 32 of The 52 Lists Project.

As I considered the question, I found myself confusing "feeling energized" with "being soothed." While there may be overlap between the two, there are substantial differences,

On my list of things that energize me, are objects, activities and qualities that legitimately cause me to feel excited and motivated to spend time with others, or to continue to the next "to do" item on my list or turn the page to the next chapter in my book.

This list includes:
  1. A delicious cuppa coffee
  2. Healthy, delicious food in just the right portions
  3. Exploring - through travel, reading, discussion
  4. Researching new ideas and learning new things
  5. Crossing things off my list (because they've been completed)
  6. Honesty and authenticity
  7. Crying
  8. A great workout
  9. Healthy and respectful debate
10. Anger
11. A good night's sleep
12. Weeding
13, Grocery shopping
14. Helping others, although largely on my terms
15. Dancing
16. Binge watching or reading a great mystery or thriller series

And what about the converse? What depletes my energy?
  1. Engaging in social niceties
  2. Fried food
  3. Uncontrolled emotional expression, if it isn't paired with an effort to try to understand oneself better
  4. Managing others' irrational thoughts and behaviors
  5. Hoppy beer
  6. Nagging

What's on your list?

Boundaries, not balance

I heard crisis management consultant Judy Smith, the inspiration for the character Olivia Pope on ABC's Scandal, speak at the Massachusetts Conference for Women.

What I thought was going to be a presentation on the principles of crisis management, was in fact a series of object lessons on setting priorities in one's life.

Judy Smith, who like me is a graduate of both American University and Boston University, provocatively said, "I don't believe in 'work-life balance.' No one is balancing anything, its just one day at a time. I DO believe in boundaries. Because when one has clear boundaries, one can stay focused on what is important while keeping distractions out."

Interestingly, back in October, I read a Huffington Post article about Warren Buffet's rules for productivity that promoted a similar philosophy.

Both Smith and Buffet suggest that, in order to be balanced or productive, one needs to have a list of the top five priorities in one's life. Anything not on that list shouldn't get one's attention. Period.

Whoa!

I recently switched jobs, away from my career of choice, in order to have more balance. (I also left my job because my manager was cuckoo banana crackers, but that's another story for another time.)

But maybe part of my balance problem is that I have too many things I'm trying to do. I'm too unfocused in my effort to my the modern "superwoman."

Maybe what I need are boundaries, not balance.

So, here are my top five priorities, to keep my focused on living a happy, healthy, productive life.

Clownface's Top Five Priorities for Living a Fulfilled Life

• Being the best sister, aunt, daughter I can be
• Continuously trying to maximize my ability to give AND receive love from my husband
• Creating, enjoying and sharing life's adventures
• Understanding and removing obstacles for people - starting with myself - to realize their true potential 
• Cultivating peace and beauty

I've done this exercise before, when I was exploring leaving my non-profit career in early 2013. The list has changed only slightly since then. And it remains philosophical enough that I can create fluid but firm boundaries. Or balance. Or whatever you want to call the pursuit of a fulfilling life.

I'll keep you posted on my success. Being balanced, maintaining boundaries, pursuing a fulfilling life, whatever.

I want my two hours!

I have the opportunity to reclaims two hours a day of my life. How? By reducing my commute from 2.5+ hours a day (round trip) to only 40 minutes.

There are a handful of reasons why I started to put feelers in the market, none of which were related to time management. But, when an opportunity for a lateral move quickly presented itself (same basic work, same base pay) AND the office was 20 minutes from my house, it seemed too good to pass up.

I want my two hours.

If you had two extra hours a day, what would you use it for?

Here's what *I'm* thinking of:

• More sleep (and less money spent on make-up because I'm not trying to hide the bags of exhaustion under my eyes)
• An hour a day (well, most days) for exercise
• Good-bye Hamburger Helper, now that I have more time for preparing healthy and complete meals
• More sleep in the morning because I don't have to get up early to read the paper now that I can listen to it on public radio while I drive to work
• Fulfilling my goal of having a healthy garden, because I have time (and energy) before or after work to prune/weed/water
• More time to talk with my family during the week because I'm in my car, and not taking public transportation, where I can use my cellphone without fear of being *that* person talking non-stop in the close quarters of the subway, bus or boat

It stands to reason that more sleep and more energy during the week will translate into less exhaustion and panic on the weekend. So, instead of dedicating one full weekend day to all of the cleaning and errands I normally do on the weekend PLUS everything I didn't get done during the week, maybe I can:

• Be fully present with family and friends, instead of resistant to social plans because I'm "too tired"
• Be fully present with BMG to create adventures 
• Develop my creative side through dance, writing and art
• Relearn how to meditate and start a spiritual practice
• Take action to make the world a better place through community service
• Give myself permission to take a long bike ride or travel longer distances to explore the world by kayak

At the age of 44, I've realized I want to be known for having a balanced life, not for being the best (insert impressive job title here). Looking back on the 15 years of my working life (post-graduate school), I see that I jumped off the career train pretty early. In this moment, I can admit that I took the leap not with intention, but rather because of fear. Or maybe, on the inside, I knew that I didn't want my legacy to be an amazing career, but rather a robust life.

My rational brain still struggles with this. I actually like my current job. I am pulled, intellectually both to the services my present employer offers in the world and the challenges presented in the workplace as the business grows. It is a good fit for my professional skills and my ego. I'm not burnt out, I have no ill will towards the company or my colleagues. In this context, leaving feels like a weird thing to do.

But I want my two hours. I really want my two hours.

So, I'm going to take them.

Park N-Shop

I had to take the strengths finder aptitude test for work and discovered that I am an "achiever."  What this means is "By the end of every day I must achieve something tangible in order to feel good about myself."

Big surprise.

I was raised by a list maker. Every day she would make a list of things that needed to be done. When my four siblings and I were old enough to read (and do chores), my mother would make lists for us too. "You can't play until you've done everything on your list" was her mantra. To further cement the importance of lists in our lives, we even played games that started with making lists.

Park N-Shop dealt each player a set of errand cards. The object of the game was to run your errands more efficiently than anyone else. The game board was a mock-up of a downtown square, and you rolled the dice to see how many sidewalk squares you could move to get to your next destination. Park N-Shop was such an influential game in my family that it became part of our vernacular, slang for being more or less efficient than one would like. As in "I am not park n-shopping very well today."

In Park N-Shop your errand cards functioned as your list. and one of the core strategies of Park N-Shop was to review your cards and plot out the most efficient route for tearing through downtown.

Luckily, I also married a list maker.

We just made our list of things to do this weekend, and have finished negotiating the first leg of our weekend errand running. We will drive to the farmer's market. Buy whatever vegetables (or other goodies) we want. We will then store them in the car while we walk to a local watering hole so BMG can pick up his football cards. We'll then walk back to the car, and head to the mall to return something and look for a new bookshelf for the living room. On the way back, we'll stop at Bed Bath and Beyond so I can get the new floor and carpet steamer I've been wanting. Once at home, we'll move the clean sheets from the dryer and make the bed, and move the wet towels to the dryer. Then, I'll clean the bathroom (including steam cleaning the floor).

Boom!

This achiever feels satisfied today.

In a past life...

...I was clearly an animist.

The evidence, you ask?

I intentionally rotate my underpants in the drawer, out of a concern that underpants that might not get as much wear will feel bad because I'm not using them.

....and all the children are above average

I've decided to stop thinking of people as stupid. This type of judgment doesn't help me honor the inherent worth and dignity of anyone.

Including myself.

Because embedded in the assumption that people are stupid because they don't process ideas and information the way I do is a belief that I'm average. And it logically follows that people who don't do things the way I do are therefore below average.

It dawned on me today that I could reframe my way of people in the world and assume that I'm an outlier, above average.

And the people who do things like show up at a job site without the right equipment and decide they just can't work today - instead of going back to the shop and getting the right equipment, or better yet, asking in advance "What equipment do I need?" - they're not stupid, but rather average.

I guess you could say I'm lowering my standards for humanity. I'm ok with that.

Are you talkin' to me?

En route to Boston's South Station train terminal at 4:30 PM on Thursday, I stepped off a crowded curb, ready to head across a busy street. Two cars had already zoomed through a yellow light, and while I knew the walk light would soon be mine, it wasn't clear that cars would actually stop. As I stepped off the curb, the woman standing next to me said, "Don't get killed."

I was astonished. And replied, "I won't get killed, but thank you for your concern."

The woman kept talking and I realized she was talking to someone else. She didn't care if I got killed. I felt embarrassed because I assumed other commuters around me heard the exchange and knew I had responded to someone who I thought was being caring, but who in fact didn't know I existed.

Fast forward to Friday morning.

While walking from the ferry terminal to my office, again during prime commuting hours, I was talking to my future mother-in-law on the phone. I said to her, as we prepared to hang up, "Love you!"

The guy standing in front of me, a Wall Street type in a suit and topcoat, turned, smiled and waved, in a gesture of "Love you too! Thanks for caring!"

I hung up the phone and laughed.

Guess what comes around really does go around!

Goals

Resolution shmesolution. So I personally don't find utility in the annual charade of "resolving" to be a better person, lose weight, exercise more, yada yada. But I have goals, I always have goals, for personal and professional growth.

My goals right on January 1, 2013?

Goal 1: By June 2013, be fit enough to motor, on my own steam, 5K in under 40 minutes.
How will I do this? By (a) walking whenever I can, (b) making (and using) time for exercising for 45 minutes at least three times a week, and (c) including weight lifting in my exercise routine.

Goal 2: Stop biting my nails by finding and committing to an alternative stress management strategy.
How will I do this? By (a) minimizing time spent in my car, which is when I seem to bite my nails the most, (b) always having gum that I can pop in my mouth when situations become stressful, and (c) being more mindful about having my fingers in my mouth.

Goal 3: Continue to maximize the time I spend with the people I love, and minimize the time I spend with people who sap my energy (regardless of whether I love them or not).
How will I do this? By (a) intentionally reaching out - via social media and other ways - to people who recharge my energy stores, (b) clearly and firmly declining invites to spend time with people who don't make my heart go pitter pat, and (c) discouraging relationships with people who make me want to pull my heart out by minimizing social media interactions (e.g. hiding Facebook profiles, minimizing likes, responses, etc.)

What are your goals for yourself right now?

The Phone and I

The worst time to reach me by phone is weekdays from 4:00-6:00 PM

Dear loved ones,

The best time to reach me by phone is weekdays between 6:45 AM and 7:30 AM. This is a true story.

This is when I am most awake, with the most uncluttered brain, and the most energy to be present with you. I'm an introvert and need to be prepared to engage on the phone. And to be prepared I need to be awake and decompressed. I get up nearly every weekday morning at 5:00 AM. By 6:45 I've read the paper, had at least one cup of coffee, showered, and am on my way to work. 

The worst time to reach me by phone? Weekdays between 4:00 PM and 8:00 PM. This is when I'm commuting home (often in the middle of Boston Harbor), and trying to decompress from my awesome but intense job. I might be hustling to catch the boat, making dinner, running errands, napping, or exercising. Also, I suck at the phone. Seriously suck at the phone. 

I KNOW I was once notorious for calling between 4:00-6:00 PM, during my car commute, to chat with my family. There is something about being in the car that goes together with talking on the phone. So I get why you persist in calling me during this window. I really get it. But please realize, dear loved one, that it is likely I'll never answer the phone. I'm sorry.

Don't want to call me at 6:45 in the morning? Maybe because you aren't a morning person? Try me on weekends in the afternoon 2:00-5:00 PM could work. 

I WANT to connect with you. I love you. But I'd rather see you than talk by phone. If I can't see you, I'd rather communicate via IM, email, FB messaging, or Twitter than talk by phone. If you insist on talking by phone please know I will be tough to reach. It doesn't mean I don't want to talk with you. Its just that I suck at the phone. I'll keep trying. 

Love,

-gk-

Fat Girl

I'm the miserable looking one in the plaid shirt on the right.

I'm a 42 year-old woman who grew up thinking of herself as a fat girl. Correct that. I'm a 42 year-old woman who often still thinks of herself as a fat girl.

I've had nearly 20 years of therapy through which I've come to understand my relationship to myself, my childhood understanding of my parents' divorce, and the class struggles that affected my confidence and sense of place. Through therapy I've coped with my irrational personal organization that bordered on OCD, explored why and how I became bulimic, made the transition to four different jobs over a period of 17 years, and ended one and started another long term relationship.

And still I think of myself as a fat girl.

To be fair, I'm on the heavy size of average. After losing 65 pounds back in 2000, I've lost and gained the same 15 pounds over the last six years, and my clothing size has bounced between 10 and 14 over the same period.

My point? I'm not actually fat.

But I sure do think I am.

The Difference Between Men and Women

(Or at least the difference between me and BMG)

I planned to be home from work earlier than my usual 5:30 today. I am staffing a charity bike ride all day on Saturday, and expected to spend most of the day at the ride site leading a crew of seven volunteers who stuffing 1,500 "Goody Bags" for the cyclists.

BMG texts me at 1:00 with one word, "Plan?"

I text back immediately with a picture of the volunteer crew with the words, "Almost done- expect we'll be wrapped up by 2."

30 minutes later he switches to Twitter to communicate with me. If he thought for just a microsecond he might have remembered that I was leading a crew working on an assembly line, and might not be checking Twitter. "I'm starved! Might have to go hunt down some McNuggets...."

30 minutes after that he tweets at me again, "Heading to bank and then to get McNuggets, unless you have better idea. ETA? 2:14?"

I've told him I'll likely be done at 2:00. He knows I'm 45 minutes away. So the guesstimate for my arrival? 2:45 at the earliest.

As it happens, I'm done at 1:30. I leave, with my intern in tow, and head to the nearest red line station to send him to his home before I return to the Tiny Seaside Suburb. After I've dropped the intern off, at 2:15, I call BMG.

"Whatcha doing?" I say.

"I'm running around downtown. Did you get my tweets?"

"Yup. Di you go to the bank and McDonalds?"

"Bank yes, but not McDonalds. I've been waiting for you."

"Uhm, you said you were going to get lunch. It is 2:15. I've already eaten lunch. Go get your lunch."

Annoyed, he hangs up.

And this, dear readers, is the difference between BMG and me:

• He tweets in my direction with a vague pronouncement of hunger and a desire for lunch. Not hearing my reply, he automatically assumes that I am on board with his plan to get McNuggets at 2:14 PM.

• I, on the other hand, would do the opposite. If I had heard nothing via Twitter, phone, or text from BMG about my Internet proposal for a midday meal, I would assume I was on my own and go get my own damn lunch.

So would you characterize BMG as an optimist, an extrovert, or a narcissist? And what would you call me?

Liberty and justice for all

Settling down to a lunch of kielbasa and cauliflower yesterday (we really need to go to the grocery store), I thought to myself, "My love for sausage is proof that I am German."

I looked at the clunky leather shoes on my feet, worn on one of the hottest days of the year. "And my love for awkward footwear. Yep, that's proof that I am German."

"This body of mine, custom-made for a dirndl, no doubt I am a German."

But it is 4th of July here in the United States, the time when we celebrate the essence of being an American. So, what, I wondered, makes me an American?

I'm distrustful of patriotism in all forms. You'll never see me fly a national flag outside my home. I wear our nation's colors to the Independence Day BBQs that are prolific in my community because of fear of being labeled a traitor to the U.S., not because I want to "show my colors." I haven't recited the pledge of allegiance in years, in spite of having worked for a local government where the pledge kicked off every public meeting I had to attend. If you were to compare my unvarnished sociopolitical views to those of the vast majority of other Americans I'd clearly be labeled a commie liberal.

So, what is the proof that I am an American?

The pilgrims, who set foot on this land mass we now call the United States of America a mere 40 miles from where I sit typing, left Europe in search of religious freedom. In 1692, religious freedom was defined within the context of varying Christian denomination; religious tolerance is much more broadly defined now many communities in these United States can boast claim to sects of Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Wiccans, Christians, Mormons, Jains, and Animists in their midst. I am committed to exploring and protecting diverse religious and spiritual expression, and preserving the separation of church and state, restricting religious persecution where no one is being hurt by the religious expression of others. This, I believe, makes me an American.

I love voting. LOVE IT. Whether casting my ballot for local selectman or choosing the best name for Snooki's baby, I love to vote. I love having the freedom of choice associated with stepping into the ballot box. I feel great responsibility to at least know something about what I'm voting for, even if that means taking five minutes to skim the referendum guide mailed to my home in advance of town elections. And I feel enormous, righteous pride when I get my little sticker after I've cast a ballot. This, I believe, makes me an American.

What really makes me an American? I confessed being loathe to recite the pledge of allegiance. This is not because I don't believe the words, but rather because I feel too much like a mechanistic sheep incapable of independent thought when I say the words with tens, hundreds, or thousands of other people. And this, I believe, makes me an American. 


I have a deep and unwavering respect for liberty, or the power of choice, and freedom from obligation, control, interference and restriction. I know the words to the pledge of allegiance, and I want to say them when I want to say them - not because I have to say them. (I won't recite the Lord's Prayer, Apostle's Creed, or other responsive reading in church or temple for the same reason.) This extends beyond liberty of speech and thoughts, to liberty in action, lifestyle, and personal expression (provided they aren't restricting the liberty of another individual). 

And the steadfast belief in and protection of liberty is what defines justice for me. I deeply believe that every person should have the opportunity to pursue their choices.  This doesn't mean I have to adopt or even understand their choices. Mormonism and cross-dressing are both confusing mysteries to me. But I understand they are meaningful to other people. And because they don't hurt me, so I have an obligation to respect, and when necessary, protect the right of Mormons, cross-dressers, and others who are both like and unlike me to express themselves. This, I believe, is what makes me an American. 

The essence of my Americanism is less overt than my cultural heritage. You can't see it in what I wear or what I eat. But you can hear it in what I say, read it in what I write, and see it in my work and my treatment of other people.

On July 4th, you won't likely find me on the local parade route - wearing red, white and blue, saluting veterans and waving a flag. Look for me under a tree in my backyard, reading a book of speeches by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. If I'm not there I may be taking a walk on a nearby beach watching the waves roll in thinking about all of the people who have made their way to this country seeking the same freedoms I love and cherish to my core.

Happy Independence Day.

Grounds for dismissal

I walked away from Starbucks this morning because their decaf was filled with grounds, and they didn't yet have a fiber-free cup of decaf available to me. "I'll make a cup of coffee in the Keurig at the office," I said when told the wait would be two to five minutes long.

As I walked out of my tiny Starbucks, I thought about going back and saying, "I'll take a cup of coffee with grounds - on the house." Because I really wanted a coffee from Starbucks. I like the feel of the warm paper cup in my hand, the heft of a 20 ounce cup of coffee, and savoring the faux caffeine to its last lukewarm drop.

But I thought better of it. "I'm not so desperate that I can't make a coffee at the office. And I deserve better than a cup of coffee filled with grounds."

So imagine my surprise when I walked over to the office Keurig after hearing its last, distinctive rattle, signaling the end of the hot water stream into the ceramic mug, and found this:

Are you kidding me?

Must be that the universe wants me to eat coffee grounds this morning.

Bucket List, you're mine!

I have a vaguely defined goal of seeing all of the 58 official national parks in the U.S. So far I've seen eleven. And, by the end of June I think my life list will jump to fifteen. BMG and I are planning a stateside driving vacation in June - from Miami to Boston. Here is the list of parks we think we can hit:

• Biscayne National Park - 95% of the park is underwater so we'll snorkel and kayak for a day.

• From there we'll head north, swing through Savannah GA, Charleston SC (and Fort Sumter National Monument), before turning west and heading to Congaree National Park in South Carolina. 

• After exhausting this national reserve, we hope to drive inland to hit the most popular park in the system, the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, which offers beautiful vistas of eastern Tennessee and the western Carolinas.

• Shenandoah National Park - Classic forests in the Eastern US just south of DC - geocaching for geologic treasures is a featured activities.

From there we hit the metropolitan Washington DC region, which is rife with national monuments, landmarks, historic sites, battlefields and other locations that are dedicated to permanently sharing the natural history of the continent, and telling story of the America as she was settled by Europeans. Thank you President Wilson for creating the National Park Service.

If we can get through this itinerary, I can bring my national park list list to more than 25% of the parks (and all of the parks on the eastern seaboard). Bucket list, you ARE mine!

***

Have you been to any of the parks on the June to do list? What do you recommend we see?

Any parks you've been to that are not yet on my tic list. Which do you recommend I definitely make time to visit. Why?

I hate religious hypocrisy

I am not an actively religious person. I am an atheist on most days, and deeply and sincerely respect the religious beliefs of others. My religious experiences have been largely Christian, Jewish, and Unitarian Universalist. I deeply embraces the values embodied in all gods and goddesses - loving kindness, respect for others & self, reverence for the power of people and the planet.

This preamble is intended to set the backdrop for why I was so INCENSED today - Easter Sunday - when someone on Twitter positioned himself as too respectful of the holiness of the day to have an honest discussion about a multi-year grudge he is holding against someone else. THREE tweets later (apparently not too holy a day to ignore me) this self-proclaimed righteous Easter celebrant said the reason he couldn't forgive was because the offender never apologized to him.

Hello hypocrite. Do you know the Christian message of Easter? Surely even the twice a year Christians remember the Sunday School lessons that taught us that Jesus died for our sins. And in so sacrificing His Son, God was forgiving us for the wrongs we had done to Him and each other. The very point of Easter is the spiritual wiping of the slate. No questions asked. All Christians have to do is accept Jesus in their heart and...voila! Forgiveness! God doesn't require an apology to forgive his believers. So this person's Twitter proclamation of it being in poor form to discuss another's sins against him - on Easter of all days - merely tells me this person is 100% missing the point of the holiday.

I'm not in a position to comment on the multi-year grudge - I don't know the back story. But simultaneously claiming religiosity AND a fundamental misunderstanding of Easter makes me wonder what other points the grudge holder is feeling.

That is all.

Diving Down a Ladder

I'm swimming with people who are as familiar to me as my closest friends, but are in fact known to me only through work. We are swimming in a pond in the high desert of Utah or Colorado. Red mud as dry as stone surrounds the base of the natural pool and the water is warm. The area is deserted and our cries of delight echo off canyon walls that surround our swimming hole. One of the women in the crowd enters an opening in a nearby cliff wall, and emerges from a cave one story up and perhaps 15 feet from the edge of the pond. Unfurling a brilliant royal shawl she yells, "We need more purple!" and prepares to dive from the cave into the pool.

Sensing danger I yell, "I can do a back flip!" And I do a back flip in the water, elegantly arcing my back and dipping my body back into the water. The force of my reverse dive is tremendous and I feel my self continue to sink towards the bottom of the pond. I keep sinking. And sinking. I start to panic. "Does this pool have no bottom? Oh my god what if I just keep going? Will I reverse course and begin to float back to the top before I run out of air?" I try to physically alter my path but the momentum of dive forces me to keep moving downward rather than upwards. I am frantic and try to soothe myself by saying, "No one has ever dived forever. You will eventually slow down. When you do you can get to the top. You will be fine."

*****

This is the second anxiety dream I've had in the last week that involves a panicked response to diving into what is, unknown to me, a bottomless pool in a desert.  It is a beautifully transparent anxiety dream, so transparent that it delights me. It also takes place in a location I consider to be a peaceful and tranquil space, the high desert of the Western U.S. I love that my subconscious is thoughtful enough to transport my sleepy manifestations of stress to a place that soothes me, to a place that compels me to slow down. And, if that weren't enough, a part of my who is witnessing the panic has the presence to use words to help me calm down, to recognize my own power, and simply say "You will be fine."

This new dream is a sign of growth. My anxiety dreams USED to involve climbing up and down wooden ladders. Any kind of ladder. I remember a long ago dream about climbing rigging on the exterior surface of a submarine in the dark. There was another than involved racing back and forth across a hotel atrium and six story glass windows, and eventually climbing to the top of one and not being able to get down. I was often with strangers in strange places taking unexplainable actions - all fraught with fear of falling, fear of what I would find when I finished my steps down or trip up the ladder.

*****

What do you dream of when your psyche needs to be rid of negative energy?

2011: The year in review

Let's take a look at the milestones of 2011, at least in my personal universe:

January is neutral:

Same old, same old

February is not so great:

Travel to beautiful Sanibel Island, FL to visit my "MIL" and "FIL." "FIL" is dying, so this visit is, in many ways, about saying good-bye to him in a place he loves. Tear ducts - and heart - are preparing for the inevitable.

March is neutral:

The pallor of death casts over everything, making the same old, same old feel hard.

April sucks:

"FIL" dies - devastated beyond belief.

May is high and low:

Prearranged, week-long trip to the Happiest Place on Earth with BMG, my mother, youngest sister and her family. Contrary to all expectations, we have a great time.

The day we get back from Disney World, my favorite cat (sorry Ducky) is struck by a car and killed. Devastation again.

June is steely:

Inspired by a friend who quotes Goethe in Panera, I decide it is really time to look for a new job.

I celebrate my birthday by buying a kayak. Summer fun here I come!

July is neutral:

Same old, same old. Knowing I'll be leaving my job soon (can you say confident?) I don't take a vacation.

August is great:

Bad economy be damned! I have a new job! Quitting the old job is tough, but 100% the right thing to do. I run the Warrior Dash with my friend Sarah and my sister E.

September is great:

Start the new job - transitions are hard and I find them energizing.

October has ups & downs:

Funeral for friend Ellen's mom early in the month, grand opening of Massachusetts' firstWegman's store, and a late month trip to Baltimore to visit with my sister and her kids make this an active and emotionally neutral month.

November is a mixed bag:

Another trip to Florida (that's three this year) for Thanksgiving with BMG and his family; celebrating without the "FIL" is emotionally difficult. I'm glad I'm only there for 3 days.

On the plus side, we are approved for a mortgage to buy our house, and meet with our architect to discuss extensive renovations.

December is a mixed bag:

Happy about Christmas (participate in a sing-a-long in downtown Boston, have a great party at Brasserie JO with BMG and our friend Ellen). We close on the house.

Having my car decommissioned by an MBTA bus puts a damper on the celebratory spirit. A funeral for Lardito's dad was beautiful, and reopened some wounds.

*****

How would I characterize 2011? A year with an enormous amount of major changes. Two deaths, new house AND new job? That is a lot of change for one year. And it will only continue as BMG and I prepare to turn our lives upside down with a major home renovation in 2012.

Looking back on 2011 a toast starts to rattle around in my brain. On new year's eve I will life my winestein high and say,

"Here's to coming out on the other side of 2011 stronger because of all the changes - stronger in attitude and spirit. May 2012 bring more quiet moments to enjoy the blessing of my life from the vantage point of my bike, my kayak or my skis."

Happy end to 2011 and happy 2012!

The Meaning of Gift Giving

"You deserve to get EXACTLY what you want. Always."

-Robbie Cutler

In one of my favorite stories about BMG's dad, who we lost to cancer earlier this year, Robbie brought his own glass of Scotch to a restaurant. When it was empty he asked our waiter to heat his glass in a microwave for 20 seconds before pouring the Scotch.

My jaw dropped. "It never would have occurred to me to ask for that," I said in amazement.

"Why not?" replied BMG's dad.

"Well, it just wouldn't occur to me to ask for a drink - for anything - in any form other than what is described on a menu or expected in a reasonable situation."

"Oh, you should always ask for exactly what you want. Because you deserve to get exactly what you want. Always."

****

I had a virtual discussion with a friend today about our different perceptions of gift giving at Christmas. The discussion itself is boring, but the upshot is that, in my personal universe, Christmas offers me the opportunity to give the people in my life exactly what they want. Because they deserve it. I take this very seriously.

I also hate wasting money. So, the idea of spending money - any amount - on a gift that isn't perfect almost hurts me. The higher the price point, the more perfect the gift has to be for th recipient.

As a result of these two factors, it is helpful to me to either have options to consider when choosing what to buy for the people I love. I can certainly develop a list of potential gifts for someone, but I am more satisfied if the list can be informed by a (a) very close relationship, (b) direct conversation with the recipient about what s/he wants, or (c) a list from which to choose.

In the absence of an informed list I feel uninspired. My gift giving is a chore, instead of a joyful opportunity to give someone exactly what they want.

****

How do you approach gift giving? What makes it joyful for you? When is it a chore?