Calculated disappointment

Former Seattle book club members: if you are reading this post, I recommend this is our next topic of discussion. Current Philly book club members, I'm still trying to find you.

As you have probably figured out, I have a love/hate relationship with my job. Yesterday's conversation with my boss seemingly jolted me into a harsh reality. I said I was behind on some stuff and wasn't proud of that but that I was working extra (read: not sleeping much) to get it done. He knows my work ethic and knows how against my nature it is to be behind on work or not do a great job. So it all boiled down to his advice on how I will ever be able to advance my career without burning out before I am 30. Learn how to disappoint the right people the right way.

Insert tears welling, me holding the back.

Is this really the next step? The whole way home I felt as if I had a bit of unravelling. If I disappoint my boss and satisfy the hundreds of marketing managers I support, do I risk promotion? If I do the opposite, have I failed to keep my promises to colleagues? If I satisfy my responsibilities at work, it is clear that I disappoint my friends and family far more than I can bare to recount. If I satisfy the needs of everyone else, but forget to nourish myself, am I the one caught holding the bag?

Albeit cynical, it started to seem like the more responsibility I get as a worker the more I have to get comfy with knowing that my (lack of) action will make things harder for others but better for me and my sanity. Is that really what it takes? That's not rhetorical. I am honestly hoping that someone out there has some perspective because I sure could use it.

Yes, there are the "learn to say no more often" and "delegate to others" and the "get your priorities straight" and "you need to take care of yourself so you can take care of others" and in sure all that would help. But fundamentally, do I have to start calculating the best way to disappoint people? Calculating needs and impact and worth? There has to be another way.

Waking Up

I feel like I am starting to wake up. Or at least I'm trying to. It's been so long that I've been head down, nose to the grindstone. I've been inside my own head focusing on just getting it done. And now that some big projects an meetings are wrapped up, I find myself sifting through a lifting fog.

It started abruptly. With giggles. On Sunday on the drive home from my parents house with H, we played a silly game with animal noises. It was so good to be in on the joke, laughing with my two loves instead of hearing them from the distance of my home office. How many of those memories had I missed? I can't be there for everything and that is ok but to awaken my senses again with the sound of laughter was divine.

And then again this morning, my senses were awakened by a different scene. Admittedly H has been sick for almost two weeks and she is most definitely a two year old but regardless, the battle to get ready every morning is getting old. As Adam and I were not so successfully trying to simultaneously coax her into clothes and NOT scream at each other, I realized how much he has dealt with over the past month. Sure I helped when I could but so many times I didn't have time or didn't make time to help teach or discipline H. We got through it, clothes were put on, apologies were said and Adam and I are both finding solace in a good cup of coffee by now but this comparison has really shown me how much I need to re-engage.

Consider me back in action.

Inertia

Inertia is the thing I fear most right now.  No, not fear.  Can’t understand.  Can’t harness.  Can’t work in harmony with.  Inertia keeps the train of my job barreling toward a cliff.  One that seems to move further and further away, only prolonging the inevitable crash (read: burn out) and heightening the anxiety in the process.

Inertia is what keeps me on the couch when I want to be moving.  It’s what keeps the stack of books next to my bed unread and the craft projects have finished.  It keeps my passion for life in a state of rest, a state of passiveness, stagnant. 

It keeps this blog from being updated.

Just today I started re-reading the book that means the most to me in all the world.  Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh unravels the two-week vacation of a 1950s wife and mother of 5.  The reflective days she spends on the beach and in her cottage away from home help the author unwind, unpack, and simultaneously regroup.  As my mother wrote to me on the inside cover, “you will know when it is time to read it again,” the events of the past two months have mounted, and are now compelling me to read.  The pages with highlights, and notes, and underlines and folded down corners are calling me back.  Begging for me to soak in their wisdom and chart into new waters.  This, I feel is my fist step in a long time to combating inertia. 

When we first moved to the city, everything was coming up roses.  And overall, I would still say that things are still much improved from what they were in the burbs.  Most definitely I do not think I would be fairing as well as I am without having made this change.  Hands down, the most difficult situation at this moment is my job.  More and more I see the effects this is having on me and I am quickly coming to a loss as to what to do.

My job (as I see it at least) is to help a old, conservative, uncool company learn how to talk to its customers, to help them have a better experience during college, and more importantly – to do that over food.  The finance department would say I’m missing quite a few words in my job description.  Like driving growth, retaining contracts, supporting new sales, mitigating costs.  Truthfully, I never show up to work wanting to support those things.  I show up to support authenticity.  Anne says “The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere.”  In general, I do like my job, and I do like what I’m asked to do (or what I’ve decided I’m there to do).  But lately it’s gotten to be too much.  Strategizing about social media all day long means I’m hyper-connected and always picked to be a part of meetings because this is the cool new thing.  It’s flattering but EXHAUSTING! 

In about 2 weeks, we’ll have a specialist joining our team to support me.  I don’t think I could be more excited.  It gives me my last ounce of hope that I can go back to the balance I had earlier in the year.  The no working at nights and weekends.  The optimism of what we can do as an organization.  I just have to be able to get to that point and help that person get up and running.  And do what I can to protect her from burning out too early.

I’m not in a position to leave my job right now.  Nor do I really want to.  But for now, I have 4 goals to start accomplishing as of Monday (I’m convinced everything works better when you start on a Monday):

1.       Stop working at home at night and on weekends.  I can find a way to get it all done during the day. 

2.       Read my book.  And reflect on its wisdom.

3.       Fill my time at home with renewing activities, not ones that deplete my energy and sense of satisfaction even more.

4.       Reflect on my days more through this blog.  Because writing always helps.  And I want to make sure I’m letting the words help me remember my past in the future.

So I close with this.  The past two weeks, I have been away from home quite a bit for trainings, conferences, and meetings.  All three of us have been sick during this time which has added to the household crankiness.  On Friday, however, H did the most heartfelt thing I’ve seen in quite some time and it gave me tremendous pause.  Adam was laying on the couch and I told H that Daddy was sick so we needed to be extra good.  She immediately runs out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom – exclaiming, “Ooo I go get the temp-ta-ture (read: thermometer).”  I can imagine her up on her tiptoes, barely able to see into the drawer that contains the device, reaching in with hopeful little hands to find the item that she wants so desperately to help the situation.  Here methodical plodding down the stairs, careful not to slip yet full of an audible hurriedness, leads into a full on toddler run back to Daddy, on the couch, declaring that she now had the “temp-ta-ture” and that she could help him because he was sick.  This whir of two-year-old nursing at its finest was so full of compassion and sincerity and an awareness that while she may not be able to do everything to fix this, she definitely could do something.  It truly moved me.  Thank H for reminding me about the importance of compassion and doing something, even if you can’t do everything.

Opa!

Let's talk about Eva.  Since we only moved in 3 weeks ago and I'm not sure Eva would even know what a blog is if I told her about it, I didn't think it'd be fair to snap her pic to post.  But she's a cross between this: 

And an ultra chic grandmother.  She's are awesome Greek next door neighbor.  She dresses all in black.  Her sister lives around the corner.  She dresses all in black too.  And her daughter comes by often.  In, you guessed it, black.  I'll have to do some research as to what's up with the Greeks and their monochromatic wardrobe choices.  But that's for another post.  What amazes me about Eva is her family.  Every time we see her on her stoop, someone is visiting her.  She even has a little bench out front for her guests.  Eva and her sister walk the neighborhood regularly.  Her daughter, son (who oddly does NOT dress in all black), granddaughter, nephews, cousins, everyone all live within a few blocks or miles of here.  And they are always together.  And it's grand.  


All this visiting and going on (in Greek no less) got me thinking about back in the day when everyone lived so very close to their families.  And how much a part of your social life they were.  And how unusual it is to have that kind of close-knit circle anymore.  I think it is more common in the city and at least seems pretty popular in our neighborhood.  But all in all, there's a whole lot of moving away and spreading out that happens.  


Many of you know that Adam and I lived in Seattle before H came along.  We love it there, we miss it, and if we're being honest, we'll probably move back there some day.  And while there are a lot of ways in which our decision to move back east happened more out of our neglect to consider staying as an option than an actual choice, something was definitely calling us home.  


If you're my parents or my in-laws, you might be scoffing by now.  Because we see you guys maybe once a month.  And again with the honesty thing, that's just about perfect in our minds.  We like a little bit of space. But since gaining this new space, new territory here in Philly, I've become really aware just how glad I am that we're close(r) to family.  I've spent a LOT of my time and energy forging connections with other groups and other people, but my family is my original clan.  That's what I think Eva has - a clan, a tribe that she hails from.  And in my own way (and with a less exotic language and a more exotic wardrobe), I do too.


My mom is all types of into genealogy and tries to get me (the history buff!) to get into it to.  I usually am too interested in my own things to really listen to those stories and that history but watching Eva and her family over the past few weeks, it makes me want to get closer to my own.  They always keep me grounded and help to maintain balance in my life.  Afterall, I am in search of that balance, that TOV.  So while I'll keep marking my new little spot in this world, MOM - IF YOU'RE READING THIS (and you should), BRING ON THE TRIBE!

A breath of fresh air

View from the park at the Art Museum

We've been really lucky to have pretty awesome weather so far since becoming "a city slicker" as my co-workers now affectionately refer to me.  And with that, has come ample opportunities to sample the 75+ parks that Philly has to offer (okay we have not been to all 75+ yet but we're up to about 7 which I think is pretty great).  Here's a view from our dinner picnic Friday night: 








A frequent comment we've gotten since telling people about our move and our quest to downsize has been the loss of our (albeit meager) back yard.  And while we have what I think is the most killer patio, it has not an ounce of grass to its name.  Our reply?  PARKS!  Don't get me wrong, I will miss playing games of horseshoes and having a huge outdoor party without having to rent space from the Parks & Rec team but in a lot of ways, we're really looking forward to living more out in the open.  


During our picnics and various outings this weekend, H encountered approximately 8 dogs that she "pet pet"-ed including one who was catching a plate (read: frisbee).  We caught up with old friends, met 2 new ones, and watched H conquer THE BIG KID SLIDE at the playground.  It was great for Adam and I too because it gave us a chance to passively observe how other parents deal with a sometimes defiant toddler, to observe the cultural differences between our new home and our own frames of mind, and to get some plain on fresh air.  In some strange way, it was like our first communion with Philadelphia.  It's like we were soaking it into our bones, wrapping ourselves in the newness.


While privacy in the way that everyone on House Hunters defines it (Chris - I can SEE another HOUSE!  This definitely does not have enough privacy!) has never been high on our list, having our own space definitely is.  We didn't have much privacy in the traditional home sense in Phoenixville (although we had the best neighbors in the WORLD!  Love you Greens and Halls!) and now we have even less buffer space.  But moving here has started redefining privacy for me.  Having less square footage and a toddler with a strong desire to walkrunjump all day long, we're called out into our fair city.  It beckons us to step out and learn more about our surroundings and experience life.  But the grandeur, at least I find, often makes me feel very small.  I'm able to gain a different type of privacy by being in SUCH a public space so much that it's as if no one is watching.  It's soothing.  And it's had a cool effect on how I feel about our house too.  I used to feel like homes could really be suffocating.  But now, once I've had enough of my private exposure, I come home, and cuddle up in my house, my space.  


I'm finding that living more on the outside of life, out in the open, and connecting with my world is feeding my soul in a totally new way.  I hope you can get outside sometime soon, look around, and connect with something or someone - even if that someone is yourself.  

Walk this way...

So we're in!  And I have to say, my list of "I hope life includes" is mostly coming to fruition.  It's funny how when something IS right, it just kind of instantly makes you feel more calm.  Walking around Sunday morning - just me, Adam, and H - Adam looked at me and asked if everything was alright.  I'd been uncharacteristically quiet and calm.  I simply said, "No, I'm just content."  And nothing could be more true.  It's a fact that some of the realities have not yet set in (like how bad our street will smell tomorrow on trash day or how UN-glorious our walk to work will be when there is a foot of snow on the ground) but all in all, I feel more calm, like I can take advantage of life and control my time so much more.


Here are two snapshots from my (currently) glorious walk to work:

Love Park

Fountain at Logan Square

Other fun discoveries we've made:

• We will HATE the ice cream man by the end of summer.  He comes - no joke - a minimum of 3 times per night.  Thank goodness H doesn't yet know what the constant music is.  She just thinks it's a cool looking truck that drones on and on.  I hope to keep it that way for as long as possible...
• Walking to work is great exercise.  It also cause sweat - therefore I will now not wear a jacket if the temperature is above 55.  Bad news if I do.
• Waiting for buses is a lot like waiting for the train.  If you miss one, you're equally as pissed and it feels like it takes equally as long for the next one.  That being said, the plus of a bus v. a train?  The ride is an 8th of what it was.
• Philly loves it's festivals.  We've become devout readers of Uwishunu and can't get enough of the awesome things our new home has to offer.  While many are free though, it is going to be tougher to keep to our budget than I thought.
• It's harder to get rid of stuff than I thought.  We did purge a TON before we moved.  But I am now finding myself looking at old momentos and finding no room for them but not really knowing how to part with them.  I wonder where the line is between simple living and extremism.

All in all, I have to say that I'm a pretty happy camper.  Although once my inlaws are out, our stuff is away, and H is asleep, I want to really just sit down and think and soak it in.  For now, I'll just bask in the light of one giant step in the very right direction.

he made the world to be a grassy road beneath her wandering feet.  

~ w.b. yeats

Small on space, big on joy.

Feeling like we had completely lost our TOV, Adam (the hubs) and I took a look at our life and most importantly the way it was making us feel.  The bottom line?  Generally fairly blah.  Don't get me wrong, we had lots and lots of good things in our life, like good jobs, a super happy kiddo, and good health, neither of us really felt fulfilled.  As former residents of the fair city of Seattle, we thought back to those times and asked ourselves why we felt "so much happier" there.  Aside from the fact that we were DINKs at the time (I'm glad we have H but let's be honest, wee ones are HARD WORK!), we both had activities that we were really interested in like dodge ball and book club, we rented a tiny apartment that was sparsely furnished so there wasn't much housekeeping to be done, and living in such a bus-friendly city, we were able to get around very easily, spending minimal time getting to the things that interested us. On top of that, we had a fulfilling church community, we volunteered, and we could easily take advantage of nature.  

Our happy little rowhome :)

Our paralyzing commute here in Philly (1.5 hours each way) has now made much of these activities very tough (although I have no doubt that just our own inertia keeps us from a lot of things at times).  We miss the amenities of a city, and we also had a house that was 3 times the size of our Seattle apartment.  The obvious choice to begin restoring balance in our lives was to get ourselves back into the city.  For over a year, we carefully selected the neighborhood that best matched our personalities and needs.  Fairmount it is!  And so at the end of this week, we'll move into this beauty of a house: 

Here's the idealistic view of what we think we're getting ourselves into:

• Half the square footage (this is a fact, it's just that we're going into this thinking it will be a very good thing)
• WAY shorter commute
• More time to do activities that mean something to us
• More time with H
• Better access to amenitites
• No increase (or perhaps savings) in our spending
• A community that feels passionate about its well being
• More "people like us"
• Better Thai food
• A more complex process when trying to buy food groceries as well as dry goods (WHERE DO YOU BUY TOILET PAPER??)
• Higher wage taxes (again, this is a fact, although we'd love to figure out a solution)
• A more multicultural upbringing for H
• A more violent school system to contend with
• Street hockey (please, oh please, I hope kids play this!)

If you were moving from the 'burbs to the city, what would you expect?  

Check back next week for an update on how the move went and any early findings.