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.

Birthday week: a chronology

Day One - Sunday, May 31: BBQ and chocolate cake. Surprise rainbow. (Hooray rainbows!)

Days Two and Three - Monday and Tuesday, June 1 and 2: Off the sugar free diet. Phish Food Light at Night.

Day Four - Wednesday, June 3: Work late the day BEFORE my birthday. Get home at 10:30 PM. Decide to go to work late on birthday. Stay up until midnight, hoping to get presents as promised at the stroke of midnight. Snoring - or is it human purring? - instead.

Day Five - Thursday, June 4 BIRTHDAY!: Up at the luxuriously late hour of 7:00 AM (often at the office by 6:45). Greeted by sweetness and presents (magazines and books and pjs and organic treats - which could have risked J's rep if ANYONE knew he went to the natural food store). Contact lens aggravation. Glasses instead and then out for big breakfast. Birthday cake at breakfast (our waitress was also celebrating her birthday). Off to work. Love from mom underground en route. Work? Unfocused, and a little aimless. M&Ms as snacks. Forgot lunch. Niceness from dillard57 and the great Alice Comack before All-America City, followed by celebratory fist pumping from Rick. Drive home. Love from Sister E. Greeted at home by with love from J, GORGEOUS flowers from D and BA, tens of Facebook greetings from close and far away friend, and fuzzy sweetness from Brisket and Ducky. Dinner with the "in-laws" - cheese, wine, scallops and CUPCAKES. Earrings, an apron and unconditional love. Home again home again, seriously hopped up on sugar.

Day Six - Friday, June 5: Still hopped up on sugar (oh my belly hurts) and determined to solider through with margaritas and delicious homemade cake at the C-A household later.

Day Seven - Saturday, June 6: Girly girl day with a haircut, pedicure, and dinner with J at The Capital Grill and the inaugural outing of my first ever "little black dress."

Birthday Week Round-Up - the morning of Day Six:
22 Facebook wall messages
8 presents
4 cards
4 cakes
1 pint of ice cream
1 bouquet of flowers

Polemical

When I was in graduate school I wrote a brilliant research paper on the evolution of the health insurance crisis. And, apparently I laid the blame squarely on physicians, evil scourge that they are. And my professor, himself a physician, gave me a low B citing the paper as well reasoned but too polemic.

One of the things I learned in graduate school was the word polemic, which I think of as meaning simplistically controversial.

In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day I'm reading the "Gone With the Wind" chapter in the book Lies My Teacher Told Me by James Lowewen. The book allegedly debunks myths of American history by telling the "real story" behind such American institutions as the first Thanksgiving and the "discovery of America". This chapter is about the sugar coating, and even glamorization, of slavery in American history. As I'm reading the chapter and reflecting on the roots of racism I find myself distracted by Lowewen's polemic argument. Like this one: Very few textbooks clearly state that Thomas Jefferson was a profitable slave owner. Must be a conspiracy to keep blacks down.

Maybe so. Or maybe the rationale for what to include in a history book is far more nuanced than this. Maybe history textbooks written for kids were edited by smart people who understood that Jefferson's ethical and moral ambiguity about being a slave owner was too complicated for young children to understand - too complicated in fact for many grown adults to understand. Maybe the writers of history textbooks chose to focus on the evils of slavery rather than the hypocrisy of the time because they wanted to exclusively focus on the slavery = bad message.

Myriad psychosocial development theorists would posit that many young children - and again many adults - aren't evolved enough to really grasp a conversation about actions we take that benefit one but hurt others. How can this be done responsibly with school children, without compromising respect for our nation's leaders? How do you take a subtle analysis of human nature and transfer it to a component of a 60-minute lesson that can be absorbed by individuals at different stages in their own moral reasoning. Would you say, "Thomas Jefferson was a great man, but he was also a bad man?" You could say the same thing about MLK Jr. if the stories of his womanizing and power plays are to be believed. But to what end? What if the lesson is not to present our historic figures as full human beings, but instead to focus on the good things they did - to give children a sense that they can do good things too?

I don't believe my American history teachers lied to me, and I also believe that American history is far more complicated than a recitation of facts and a presentation of black versus white arguments. Now, I am off to honor Dr. King for the good work he did. Because he did good work, in spite of the flaws in his character.

A perfect Christmas

For the first time in more than 10 years I've been excited about a little decorating for Christmas. I love the lights and the smell of a Christmas tree. Growing up my mom would enlist the entire family in decorating the weekend following Thanksgiving. We would string garland and lights on the banisters, bedeck the windows with lights, and tie red ribbons on nearly every object in the house that could accommodate a red ribbon. It was an exciting family project that, for me, heralded the start of the Christmas season. I had been in a relationship with a Jew for several years who objected to Christmas decorations. So, in the spirit of relationship harmony I swallowed my enthusiasm for decorating.

This year, BMG affirmed my interest in decorating, which has opened the floodgates for my inner Martha Stewart. But, the house isn't quite Turkey Hill Farm, so I knew I needed to start small. BMG and I decided no tree this year (the house still needs some work to make room for a tree). Sigh. I still wanted to decorate, so I decided I would string lights onto the wreath I bought to hang on the front post. But, no power source. Hmmm. What to do? Aha! I remembered using battery operated lights once for a work event, so I started to scour the ad circulars for similar Christmas lights that would just require a simple flick of a switch and, through the miracle of mercury or acid or whatever it is that makes batteries work, I'd have a tastefully lit wreath.

I found a deal on lights at Stop & Shop - buy two boxes of 15 lights each for $4. So, I bought two, wound the lights around the wreath, and wired the battery boxes to the back of the circle of greens. And then I ran out to buy size C batteries - ten of them because I remembered from my work experience that these lights took a lot of juice, and I didn't want to be unlit for even one more night. I excitedly put the batteries into the compartment, stowed the spares, and then tried to flick the switch for my "voila" moment.

One string of lights never lit. Apparently there wasn't enough tension on the battery buttons to make it work, no matter how many times I flipped the batteries over, switched them with new batteries, or tried to wiggle every possible moving part (and even some unmoving ones.) And the second string of 15 tiny white sparklers? The battery door was SOOOO tight that I had to turn the lights on and off with...my teeth.

While I LOVE Christmas lights, I love my teeth more. So, I've taken the battery operated lights off the wreath and thrown them away. And I've replaced the wreath with a beautiful (and free) swag given to me by Coop. The wreath is now indoors, hanging on the front window, looking festive and sharing its evergreen fragrance with us - a perfect substitute for a tree. (I may even hang ornaments on it.) My only string of regular Christmas lights is about 15 years old. And it is now at the bottom of a trash bag. Because it wouldn't work when I plugged it in after winding it around the indoor wreath.

No lights, no tree. The house is fragrant. And I don't feel stifled by my relationship. Feels like a perfect Christmas to me.

Seeking adventure

I'm still adjusting to life in the suburbs. Make sense, I've only been here (officially) for two months. As part of my denial that I live in a community where people think of themselves as "neighbors" if they live three towns away and everyone wears pants with little whales stitched on them I've begun fantasizing about living in New York City.

I'm originally from Central New York and have always had a little chip on my shoulder about New York City. I've been there maybe a half dozen times in my 38 years on this planet, and I've been utterly overwhelmed by the scope of the Big Apple. A friend once said to me, when asked how she managed to live in New York City, "It is like a series of small towns. The eight block radius around your apartment is the small town in which you live, and the eight block radius around your job is the town to which to commute daily. Everything else is superfluous."

So why New York City now? I was explaining to GPA earlier today that I crave both the size and possibility of New York City, but also the small scope. New York City doesn't have grocery stores that are acres in size, it is possible to get to the drug store without having to jump in the car, and your neighbors are people you could interact with every day without having to go out of your way. And, as you travel between the "small town" where you live and work, you are reminded that New York City has MOMA, SoHo, The Colbert Report, the Cloisters, Zabars, and Tavern on the Green. There is a possibility of adventure every where you look.

Here in the suburbs where I now make my home most of my 60 minute commute is filled with images of chain stores, billboards, Dunkin' Donuts, and traffic signs. While there are beautiful views, there aren't many possibilities for adventure. This is what I crave.

It isn't likely I'll be moving to New York City anytime soon, or even back up to Boston. I choose this because I love BMG and I love the way I grow through our relationship. But I need adventure to help me feel alive. I need to feel like every day isn't like the day that came before it.

Any suggestions?

What to eat at a funeral

So I'm reading my newest favorite blog, www.cakewrecks.blogspot.com. The cover cake wreck is a three dimensional rendering of the twin towers in NY with an emotive "We will never forget" in curlicue writing at the base of the towers. Trolling through more than 175 comments I find this curious nugget:

"In my opinion cake is normally used for celebration. (At funerals you usually see pie[.])"

True? I must admit I'm not a big fan of funerals. I express my sympathy better in writing, and my sadness in less public forums. But, of the five or six funerals I have attended, I can say for certain I've never seen cake NOR have I seen pie. I've seen plenty of deli platters and pre-fab fruit platters, and I have a vague recollection of one of those giant chocolate chip cookies decorated like a cake. And never have I heard someone say, "At funerals you see pie." What makes pie more suitable, more solemn, more commemorative than a cake? I know plenty of women (and some men) who drown their sorrows in brownies and cookies. Is there something about pie that just says, "So sorry someone died"? I don't get this comment at all.

This brings me to another question. What is it with funerals and grocery store catering? Where are all of the people who channel their grief and sadness into cooking? Why haven't they opened "Funeral Foods Catering Company" so they can make delicious food for post-funeral gatherings and wakes for the foodies who are too bereft to cook? Maybe this will be a challenge on the next Top Chef the funeral food challenge? What foods would you want to assuage your sadness at a funeral?

Super hungry

I volunteered for the Greater Boston Food Bank's Super Hunger Brunch today - at Eastern Standard Kitchen in Kenmore Square. For $25, individuals got to choosy from tasty brunch entrees off a prix-fixe menu. I sat with Amy and Jeff and took cash, chatted with wait staff, and generally thanked people for giving 100% of the cost of their brunch to feed hungry people in Greater Boston. I'm good.

Why did I do this? For the free food. In exchange for our volunteerism, Amy, Jeff and I got to order off the prix-fixe menu. I got the smoked trout pate with baby beet green salad with hard boiled eggs. All of its mouth watery goodness is pictured at right.

While you're drooling, pencil in January 2009 as Super Hunger Month and plan to attend this excellent charity event NEXT year. I know I will.

Latke as something to do

Due to an email error I thought I was volunteering all day today. When I realized I was in fact volunteering tomorrow, I found myself at a loss for how to spend my day. What else should a girl do when she has a slightly moldy five-pound bag of potatoes in her fridge and a boat load of free time? Make latkes of course?

I love the word latke. It is fun to say, and is in fact a delicious form for the starchy, bland potato. I used a recipe from Epicurious.com that I modified to make it a little spicier. I added curry powder and a pinch of cayenne to the bread crumbs as I roasted them, and used one yellow onion (grated) and a bunch of scallions finely chopped. For the record, my latkes were delicious and I feel fulfilled for having made them.

However, it is still only 11:30 in the morning. BMG is sick and I have resolved to not go near him because I DO NOT want to get that cold again. I have exercised (35 minutes in "the zone"), made latkes, planned a wedding shower, wrote a thank you note, and woken up from 10 hours of blissful sleep. It may take me up to 20 minutes to eat the latkes, and then another three hours to morosely lament my piggishness. That will take me to 3:00. Then I can listen to my favorite radio program, which will take me to 4:00. What to do with the rest of the day?

It's over

My seven month journey into the Land of Hyrule is over. I have defeated the biggest baddest bossiest monster in Nintendo 64's Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and saved all the people. I'm certain that my visit to church this morning with BMG and Coop, where the pastor talked about getting into the "flow" and acting by not acting allowed me to channel the power needed to complete the game. I'm great.

Unabashed commercial plug

Today I am speaking in favor of Vera Wang-brand jammies at Kohl's. Yes, Kohl's. Not a bastion of fabulousness - more like a J.C. Penney of the 21st Century. Nevertheless, with the help of Dear Coop, with whom I was shopping on Saturday, I discovered these glorious garments. "Simply Vera" pajamas are simply the most comfortable and beautiful sleeping clothes - often two adjectives that do not go together in pajama-land - I have ever ever worn. Go to Kohl's and buy them. I implore you.

Fridgewatcher

I do believe that my 15 minutes of fame, my vicarious 15 minutes of fame, has begun. BMG and I spent Friday night sitting across from one another in his bungalow, trolling fascinating websites like Found, and Post Secret. In a fit of artistic inspiration, we submitted photos of his refrigerator for Fridgewatcher.com.

And they are now up on the web! BMG's fridge is the featured icebox on Fridgewatcher.com!

PS: Coop, I know you are going to LOVE this site.

Congratulations are in order

Shout outs to the following people for achieving important milestones for those of us human types living in modern Western civilization. In no particular order:
*Coop and Rob on their engagement
*Heather and David on their close to completion pregnancy
*Ben and kloalljidskatiespooaslma on their engagement
*Sitboaf for reasons I'm not supposed to know ANYTHING about.
I'm looking forward to sharing shout outs to those of you trying to get pregnant, trying to sell your homes, hoping to win a free scooter, and working towards new careers.

Redemption

My Girls' Group meets tomorrow night. Five of us (I'm mentally counting, one, two three...yeah five of us) meet twice a month to discuss issues of spiritual reflection. We generally take time to check in with one another - on the ordinary aspects of our lives, as well as our connection with our own spirituality. And, those of us who aren't actively trying to get pregnant drink too much wine, and we all eat too many cookies. We're all affiliated with the Unitarian Universalist church, and it seems just perfect that our body and blood of Christ is cheap Trader Joe's red table wine and Pepperidge Farms cookies.

On the occasion of Fat Tuesday, BMG and I were reflecting on the topic of Lent. What is the purpose of giving up a vice for 40 days and 40 nights? According to a link from the Catholic Education Resource Center, provided by Bowl of Cheese.com, the purpose of deprivation is to give oneself time to reflect on the liturgy of the church and to devote more time to prayer.

Hmmmm.

So giving up smoking for 40 days is like fasting for Hindus? Only, Catholics and Protestants can't bring themselves to actually give up food, so they give up buying new shoes for a month or drinking top shelf whiskey. How close to god does that bring you? When I was a child, I thought Lent was like an extra shot at a New Year's Resolution - the point was to see if you could actually give something up that you thought was important to you.

Ahhh. Now this is interesting.

Perhaps one of the more secular interpretations of Lent is that it provides the practitioner with the opportunity practice letting go of things that are important to me. Like Jesus (who they know they are about to lose to death). But the Easter story is one of faith and redemption. In fact, the message is that one is NOT supposed to let go. Those who let go of their belief in Jesus as "the messiah" were considered the traitors. I heard a piece on NPR tonight by a Jesuit priest who was reminding listeners that Easter is at its heart a celebration - of joy, of miracles, of faith. Frederica Matthewes-Green writes "(For the early church), repentance was the wellspring of joy and healing. As Jesus taught, the one who knows she has been forgiven much knows she is loved much, and can pour out love in return."

So I ask again, what is this tradition of giving things up for 40 days before Easter all about? Do we have to give up things we care about (or merely enjoy) in order to come to a place of appreciating them? Do we have to punish ourselves before we can celebrate? How does deprivation lead to forgiveness? Are we supposed to acknowledge and be reminded of our sins for 40 days in order to best appreciation the forgiveness afforded by god when he "takes his only begotten son" yada yada?

I think the Jews do this a little better, with their observation of Yom Kippur. You spend 24-hours fasting, reflecting on all the ways you screwed up during the year, asking for forgiveness, and promising to try and do better. And, you do it in the community of other congregants at your synagogue - so you are all acknowledging your fallibility together. Judaism also calls for the forgiveness of others during this period, which includes to resolution (or dissolution) of all feuds. Some people also choose to partake of a ceremonious casting of their sins into the water, called tashlikh. I love this ceremony, because of the symbolism of cleaning the slate. I head to a body of water with old bread or crackers. I find a spot with nice, clear access, and crouch down. As I toss the bread into the water, I name it. "Anger at my mother," "Irritation with stupid people driving their cars," "Getting a double feature for free at the movies." Then, I watch each piece of bread drift away, or become loaded down with water and sinking, or being snatched up by a hungry duck or sea gull. It is satisfying.

I still don't quite get Lent - or Easter for that matter. What I do know is that I'm going to make these questions the centerpiece of the Girls' Group discussion tomorrow night, when I ask the question, "Even if you aren't a believer in the resurrection or Jesus as messiah, what spiritual good - personal good - comes from cleansing oneself of one's vices? For an individual, a family, or a community?"

Futon

In honor of Presidents' Day, I bought a new futon for 25% off the list price - $280 including the delivery fee. And, it is being delivered on Wednesday. No slogging on the ice with the unwieldy box hanging out of my sensible sedan (oh, the horror, the horror). On a less jubilant note, I have to call the store first thing tomorrow as the wrong wood finish is on my invoice. If I hadn't been blogging this I never would have known that I'm slated to receive java (aka black) and not the warm cherry.

Other notes in my fairly ordinary life:
1. I started my training to do three (bicycle) centuries this year. And I took a minute to thank the trainer who got me started at the Bally in Porter Square.
2. I'm actually reading a book, The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. Thanks to Coop for recommending it, and to Presidents George Washington and Abe Lincoln for (a) having birthdays in the same month, and (b) being such great Presidents that they both deserved national holidays so I could have the day off in which to read a book.
3. I made baked beans for the first time.
4. I had a lovely dinner with BMG (our six month anniversary) at Christopher's in Cambridge, plus a great cookie and some tea at Flour in the South End.

Whose head is this anyway?

BMG suggested I start a blog so I could record the witty things he says to me, and my reactions to them. We did online IQ tests today. Sadly, his is higher than mine (129 to 136). Both geniuses, to be sure. But, his seven-point lead on my IQ is something I may never live down. Sigh.

Perhaps influenced by BMG and perhaps influenced by my own desire to record my life, I've been thinking about starting a blog. Why? To give me a place to publish my thoughts about life so I can stay grounded, so I can remember all of the amazing things I've had the privilege of experiencing. And, to keep track of the places I've been and the things I've done, in addition to those not yet tackled. I often tell friends on the phone that the milestones in my life feel hardly significant to retell; the excitement of returning a library book on time doesn't seem noteworthy. But, there are days when this feels really exciting. And there are times when I step back and realize significant portions of my life have gone by with myriad milestones in-between. I was dusting a framed print by the artist Milton Avery that is hanging in my bedroom. I realized I have owned this print for close to 10 years. 10 years!

I don't often look at the print. (10 years!) It is now a piece of the everyday fabric of my life. As I searched for the image in Google, I was reminded of what drew me to this print 10 years ago. It reminded me of my oldest sister and her consistent availability to me as a loving confidant. It reminded me to slow down and reflect on the everyday things that happened to me. I miss doing this.

So, why am I starting a blog? Is it for BMG - who inspires me and affectionately encourages me to be my genius best? Is it for Coop - who constantly reminds me that my life is unusual and I "really need to be writing these things down!" Or is it for me? Is this a way for me to stop and take note of my life - the everyday things that happen to me. The things that make me smile, that make me furrow my brow, that make me feel angry or proud?