Security. It’s always looked upon as desirable: a secure job, a secure home, a secure future, a secure investment. The list is endless of the secure things or situations we desire. Why? While the answers to that question are myriad, for me, and for many others: security implies continuity, safety, protection from outside forces, longevity, and so many other things that make us feel less vulnerable and protected. In this, however, is the myth of permanence. Of landing the perfect job, that we keep until our golden years, retiring with a gold watch, and then spending the rest of our lives in bliss. Or of the ideal marriage, to the man or woman of your dreams, to grow with each other, more in love each year. And how often does this happen? In my experience, often enough to keep the dream alive for so many. And that’s not a bad thing; an ideal that gives hope, gives love, and a sound future, but one that also takes work, heartache, pain, and sometimes the wisdom to realize the current situation is not working for anyone involved, and it might be better to part company. But, if we go back to our original statement, security in anything is a myth, a fable used by us, and against us, to convince ourselves that this time, this person IS the answer to our prayers. But no job is forever. Marriages that seem Heaven-blessed crumble and fall apart. Blue-chip companies fold. Real estate values fluctuate like a weather-vane. And why does any of this matter? Because, when ‘security’ does not work out for us in whatever way, we begin to try and reconstruct the paradigm of what kept us happy for so long. As we begin to do so, the task gets muddy, difficult to define, and stymies us as to what we need to do to approximate a similar situation. And…. It. Doesn’t. Work. And it doesn’t work because it never really existed anyway; it was just a means to justify how we were living at the time, as in “Golden Handcuffs,” to coin a phrase. My own case in point: a job I held twice (yes, once was not enough) ended with a massive layoff, a comfy severance, outplacement service, and a ‘sorry, but good luck’ from my then-boss. Not an easy breakfast to digest, but but the end of the day, it realized I didn’t have to do that stupid job again, nor would I ever need to converse with the micromanaging egotist that delivered the message. But, five months later, as severance was coming to an end, and offers were beginning to come, I went for prestige of company, location, and salary, all reproducing, and one-upping, my previous situation. And the result: less time for personal projects, less time with my family, more time in New York, and far, far less autonomy in deciding how my day would be spent at work. This lasted nine months, the human gestation period, before I moved on to a much better, but very different, position that challenged me, made me whine and complain that I didn’t have this or didn’t have that, all the while trying to ignore that I was happy when I was actually at work, with a great team of people, and the bills were being paid, and I was okay. Until one day I sat back and really saw where I was, what I was doing, and that this was allowing me…no, challenging me, to begin to really change in how I led my life that would bring the true, deep satisfaction of what I as doing being enough. And no. I’m not quite there yet, but with the knowledge that what I am doing is the thing I need to do to reach the next level, the next step, of my life, I am creating new ways of using this experience to teach me as much as possible, before the next logical step presents itself….
Losing…and Winning
I recently received notice that one of my spouse’s aunts had passed away, accompanied by information on the upcoming celebration of life to say goodbye and to compare stories with other family members and friends. While not unexpected at her age, I was sad to know that we wouldn’t get that occasional call that started, ‘Hey, this is Aunt Jo….’ As well, I would miss the invariable fun and entertaining conversation that followed. She was the one who welcomed me to the family so many years ago, telling me about my husband’s now-deceased father, whom I never met, of her sister and his courtship, marriage, foray into parenting, and so forth. Not to mention hilarious, but far-less-flattering stories about the entire family I was to become part of, and learn to love as my own. I would later learn from my husband of her earlier life, right in the heart of the Washington political scene for so many years: of skirmishes with the left and right, as well as personal triumphs over some of her not-so-favorite political figures, all while having as good a time living life to its fullest, as only she could.
While it left me sad for a while, it also brought back so many memories, not just of my time with her, but with my own family. Memories of my grandmothers, and my grandfather, of great aunts and uncles, who were so close to us they were almost parent-figures at times, of the times at the beach house where dinner was so truly a collaborative event that the phrase, ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ was made irrelevant. The holidays we made the trek to their house, or them to ours, to be with extended family during the Christmas holiday, and celebrate, not only the holiday, but also our time together. As this flood of personal memories went through my mind, of Aunt Jo and of my own now-gone family members and friends, I realized what memories do for us: they keep the spirit of these people alive and well, and make them a still-vital part of our lives. No, we may not be sharing a glass of wine together, or making cookies, but they are still with us. Guiding, directing, and helping us remember who we are, and where we are going, or where we want to go. And so importantly, helping us remember that failures are not the end. Failure is only the dead end of one way to do something, and it’s now your challenge to find the best way that works for you personally.
As the thoughts above went through my mind, I thought about my own journey through life, and how each of these people, as well as others now no longer with us, gave us some insight into navigating life and the world as we know it. From them, I learned perseverance, of how to keep getting up when I’ve been knocked down, to treat everyone—EVERYONE—with respect, and that showing love is the best way to go through life, even if, maybe especially when, it is not returned.
So I celebrate all those I have known for the love they showed me by being a part of my life, and left me with the legacy of doing the same.
Self-Deception
Like many things in life, it starts quite small, almost imperceptible, and if continued, grows disproportionately large, to the point it begins to take over. And while there are many things that fall in this category—babies, business startups, plants—this one is very stealthy, and can go unnoticed for a long time: self-deception. It starts with small justifications like, ‘it won’t matter this one time,’ ‘I just don’t want to hurt anyone,’ ‘this is too embarrassing for people to know,’ ‘no one needs to know about this.’ Whatever the situation, dire or insignificant, the little lies—yes, that’s what they are—add up and start a cycle that can begin to supplant the real story. From little things in my life, like adding an inch to my height on my driver’s license so long ago I’d forgotten that I’d done it, until recently being measured in my doctor’s office as part of the initial examination. And does this matter? No. Not really. Given that I’m not a particularly tall person to begin with, that little inch was for me to make myself feel taller in a world where, at least at one point, I felt surrounded by giants. Or procrastinating on projects that leave me knowing I would have enjoyed them more had I not waited until the last minute to complete them, denying myself the opportunity to more fully absorb what I was doing, as well as to better learn something new. These were personal instances, not involving others for the most part. But they also made it easier to do the next time, justifying something for which I’d not taken full responsibility, and potentially affecting others. And again, why does this matter? It matters, to me, and others I know, because it’s not transparent, and shows me in a light that is not honest, which brings me to the crux of this: in these days of ‘fake news,’ of perjury-as-sport, of pathological lying, of hiding crimes and misdemeanors behind money or fame or reputation, only the truth can see us through. Trust is an enormous privilege, and to trust someone, or to be trusted by others, is a privilege earned only through telling the truth, even when, and perhaps, especially when it is a painful truth. But that trust begins with living honestly, and truly being who and what you are. And demanding that those around you do the same. While we can’t ‘make’ someone tell the truth about themselves and their lives, we can set an example. Not by being a holier-than-thou judge of people around us, but by showing all sides of who we are, the unattractive parts as well as those we want the world to see. And most of all, by being honest with ourselves, striving to be better in those areas we feel need improving, learning new things, trying new things, and learning to laugh at ourselves when we fail, seeing it as a chance to ‘try our wings’ at something that could help us all.
Healing is a Choice
Every morning I journal for about fifteen minutes, filling three legal pad pages with my thoughts, hopes, dreams, complaints, and ideas. It started about twenty-five years ago with Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way, which was the the only text ‘assigned’ in a class I was taking to learn how to be more open with how I lived my life, and who I was. Those last two would take a lot of time, way beyond that class and those people, but eventually I began to live the way I thought and felt. That aside, deciding to take action in the form of a class, as well as committing to developing a habit of writing every day, was the first time I really said to myself that ‘things’ were not working with what was in place, so it was time to replace the current behaviors with those that might put me closer to where I wanted to be. Wherever that was…. While I would eventually figure where and what ‘that’ was, taking action was the key to so many new worlds.
That action, the first I’d taken since college graduation, insofar as helping myself was concerned, was the key. I began to meet new people, people more aligned with how I was thinking, of thinking many of the same things, or at least in the same way I was, and it was exhilarating. People who were a part of my being stuck began to drift away, which was alarming at first, but then I saw that we were helping each other stay ‘stuck’ and that when one of us began to make changes to go in different directions, the reasons we were together started to fray and eventually we went our separate ways. Which was good. New starts, taking action, and deciding what you really want, and are willing to work for, perhaps only for now, are one of the paths to realizing the life you’ve dreamed. And sometimes, it is very different from the one you thought was your goal in the past.
Two years ago, I was laid off from a ‘Golden Handcuffs’ job, and promptly sought to recreate it. And I did, in a way, and the new one was worse, in different ways, and so I moved on, taking a step back in both position and compensation, to give myself time to clear my head, to read and write, and to discern the direction I needed to take in my life. Each little intentional action I took during this period led to new knowledge and the realization that what I was doing now was preparing me to go in the direction I have always wanted to go, but didn’t know how. The means to another end. And the bonus is that each decision I make, whether the goal pans out or not, is leading me closer. I step forward, and learn things I need to know. See things I need to see. New people offer to help with something I’ve been struggling to complete. And each day I gain new insight into what I know I have to do to keep stretching and growing as both a person and an artist.
What dormant dreams are in your life? And is there something you could do—big or small—to begin exploring that possibility?
Reclaiming an Abandoned Past…
Why do we make the decisions we make? And why do we choose to hide something about ourselves that we feel is somehow not who we are, or who we want to be?
Of course, I have asked those questions rhetorically; not because I don’t expect to get an answer, but because there are so many answers. All different. All correct. And all wrong. We make decisions with the information we have at the moment, and with how we believe that decision will affect the outcome. Some time later, we can then reflect on how the action actually played out, where we are now, and how that decision influenced it. As Kierkegaard reminded us, ‘Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.’ I have been very aware of these words over the past few years, as the changes in my life have put me in very different situations, facing new challenges, dealing with new people and their individual viewpoints, as I attempt to reshape the direction of my life to be the one I always dreamt of having when life was all possibility.
I’m speaking of the reconnection with things and people and ideas that I’d ‘edited’ out of my life, believing they would hurt me, or the image I had of who I was, or wanted to be. Things like music that wasn’t ‘serious’ or ‘cultivated’, the fact that I was born in West Virginia, though I largely grew up elsewhere, the people I rejected because I felt they were not educated or cultured to the standard I had set for my friends. Even my family, because they weren’t the family I had in my head when I thought about who I was, and where I thought I wanted to go. Pretty petty, huh? Yes, it was, as was I about these things, and others, that I felt might hurt my chances of becoming the person I had idealized in my head. Of course, the problem with this, is I had no idea who I was to begin with, and so began to cobble together my own Frankeinstein’s monster of spare ideals floating around my head. That person would be more handsome than me, taller than I was, a better athlete, more intelligent, with a knowledge of the world I had not as the teenager creating this creature from scraps of old photos, characters from novels or movies, actual people I knew, and from my imagination. Then I needed to look around at where I was and begin to edit all those things from my life that didn’t add up to this Person. And life got complicated as I began to learn things this person would know (a good thing!), dress like them, act like them, and live, or pretend to, like them. As one might guess, this didn’t work very well, but I carried on with it for a decade or so until the ‘cracks in the plaster’ began to overwhelm me, and I began to search for truth. Truth in my life. MY truth. And I began to work through what led me to make those decisions, with laughter sometimes, and tears, of course, but beginning to heal, and to become the person I am. The one, perhaps, I was meant to be all along.
What have I discovered? First, and foremost, that my family is wonderful! Not perfect, not the ideal I created so long ago, but smart, fun, witty, and always there for each other. Including me. Who knew? That short guys can be sexy and attractive, too. That I’m pretty smart already, and people tell me they’re astonished at how much I know about so many things. That being truthful, even when you think it might hurt, is always the best way. And while I still love classical music, I also love country music, which came as a great surprise when I heard songs from bands I now listen to regularly. And that it’s all okay, and life, which can be complex, is a bit easier when you’re not trying to be something, or someone you’re not.
Seeking the Quest
The Quest. We’ve all heard about this concept for forever, it seems, and it never ceases to fascinate us. We throng to movies to see it in front of us—Star Wars, Superman, Batman, Dunkirk, Indiana Jones—to see our hero confront his or her worst fear, and to walk through that fire burned clean of the inessential. Victory in battle, on land, the high seas, or in the air, is the stuff of dreams. Even Cervantes Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, championing Aldonza—who, in reality, is less than the ‘Lady’ in his mind—keeps to his quest, whether you read the pages of the novel, or see it sung in front of you on a Broadway musical stage, and we are moved by the dedication, the steadfast refusal to quit, to say ‘enough,’ and to move on to a life less stressful and demanding. We face quests in our life all the time, though. Perhaps not as important as saving western democracy and freedom on the beaches of Normandy, or protecting the planet from those who would subvert it for their own selfish purposes. Quests like bringing up children to be good, kind, and responsible adults. Like starting a food drive/bank when you realize there are people going hungry in your area. Getting through high school or college, and the requirements necessary to do so. While these last few may seem to many to be the stuff of ordinary life, that is where quests are born in many cases. Sometimes fueled by the deep thought that what you’re doing with your life is what you really ought to be doing, because you do certain things better than others in particular areas, and feel you might be able to use those talents or gifts to a larger concern than simply getting through life, paying the bills, taking a vacation, and making it to retirement…to do…what? Which brings us to the fact that finding a quest is often a search for a higher meaning in life. To do bigger things, or more significant things, that go far beyond what your individual life might be able to bring to a situation. Or, I would argue, to open yourself up to new challenges, perhaps new difficulties, that you never thought you would ever need to deal with, let alone figure out how to negotiate them and the situations they create. And sometimes in this case, rather than sit and think of the pros and cons of engagement, it’s best to simply jump, and, as a favorite song of mine encourages, ‘keep your heart above your head, and your eyes wide open.’ I never thought I would do anything like hike the Appalachian Trail, but all of a sudden, the opportunity to represent my company for a week doing just that, is not only attractive, but is drawing me in more each day. The situation is just right, I have time to prepare before the actual event, shoring up the knowledge I might lack now, practice things that might be useful on this trip, and talking to those who have done it to glean tips, tricks, and hacks that could make it not only a bit easier for a novice, but downright enjoyable. And so ‘into the breach’ to borrow Shakespeare’s words, for the first time in my case, to explore new worlds, and begin to see life—my own and that of others—from a new perspective, and perhaps contribute to someone else’s understanding of this journey called life.
What I Really Want To Do…
‘What I really want to do is…’. The world’s most famous tag line, spoken by nearly everyone at some point in their lives. The actor proclaiming they really want to direct. The middle-manager saying his business idea would make a great startup. The housewife planning the novel she always wanted to write. The teacher dreaming of a life in politics. The list is as endless as the human capacity to dream. And some of these people go on to do ‘what they really want to do.’ But how many of us never act on those dreams, how many of us take those first steps to see what is required to do something different? How many of us see that an enormous amount of work is required, and decide that maybe it’s not what we really had in mind. How many of us see ourselves at the end of this journey, successful, wealthy, acclaimed, etc., but never take the first step to see how this might become a reality?
While there is no specific answer required for the above, most of us have unrealized dreams and desires that we can achieve. Or that we can begin to move toward realizing, and whether or not we reach the storied heights of our fantasies, our lives begin to make sense as we pursue those goals, and fulfill some part of our lives that has been empty, and wanting that ‘thing,’ that activity that truly feeds our souls, and makes us grateful to participate. That thing, that desire, is our Olympic Games: the participation itself more important than having a medal hanging around our neck at the end. Of course, accolades and recognition for excellence is a wonderful thing, but how many unsung heroes are there in life, and that when we stop to think about it, we realize how much these people give to us, expecting nothing in return. Because doing what they do is part of who they are, and they would be less for not doing it. Just as auditioning for community theater is vital for those who always wanted to act, and hoping to be cast in the next play, they put time, effort, care, and concern into their audition. And they grow as humans because of it…even if they don’t get the role. Because when you pay attention to what ‘feeds’ you, it grows, it improves, and it makes your life richer, and those ‘roles’ will come, or the published stories, the chance to start a business, the opportunity to explore those dreams that can become hobbies, part-time jobs, new livelihoods, or simply activities you look forward to the next time you can do them. It is simply too easy to say there’s too much work required, there’s no chance I would be elected, my writing is not that good, the financing is not possible, without even taking the first step to see what might be possible. So much is out there to be experienced, and so much is truly within our reach. If only we reach out.
So. What’s holding you back? And why? Isn’t there something you really want to do?
Within Reach…
Most of us strive to live better, happier lives, making more time for family and friends, taking vacations, learning a new language or sport, and the like. And we likely spend a great deal of our time working, at one job/career or another, in order to have the means to do so. But what about those ‘jobs’ or ‘careers’ that are part and parcel of who we are, or involve those things we love to do or create? I think many of us look at those as the unicorns of the working world: things that are great to think or dream about, but don’t really exist. But is that really the case? Stories of those individuals who have managed to create such an existence are catnip to most of us in jobs that are the means to doing ‘what we really love,’ as opposed to supporting ourselves and our families by doing those things that feed us intellectually and spiritually, as well as financially. In some cases, a catastrophic event, like job loss, divorce, death of a loved one, etc., is the catalyst for a person to realize the life they lived previously is not the life they want to continue as they move through the pain of the event and begin to remake their lives in another way. And thus is born the writer, the entrepreneur, using their own wits to create a source of income, and of new life, by doing what they’ve always wanted to do, but never saw a way to make it happen. But, what if what you had always wanted to do was all-of-a-sudden within reaching distance, and all you had to do was put your hand out to begin a new journey? How many of us would do it? And how many of us would laugh, and say how nice it would be, and then do nothing? And what about those caught between those two options: wanting desperately to reach out and grab the opportunity, but hesitate, paralyzed by fear? Fear of success, of failure, and of finally taking responsibility for creating your own happiness? And why fear something wonderful, something we’ve dreamt of for so long?
And the answer is ‘Change.’ In a new situation, professional or personal, there is always the adaptation to change, learning new things, meeting new people, seeing our own world from a completely different point of view. And. That. Is. Terrifying. In our lives, we dance a particular dance, one we have learned quite well, and the thought of being awkward and clumsy again—at whatever age—is a thought we don’t want to entertain in any way. We admire athletes, dancers, singers, speakers for the smooth, almost-effortless way they practice their discipline, always forgetting that we never saw the series of strike-outs at the plate, the missed steps, the forgotten, off-pitch lyrics, the fumble of notes hoping to find the next thought. All things those we admire have endured, and have worked to improve, so that the perfect drive off the tee, the exquisitely executed dive, look effortless, and increase our admiration of their skill. So, when that opportunity to reach out and begin to create a new way of living, or working, or being, presents itself, reach out, grab it, and let it dictate what you need to do to make it happen. And those awkward moments that will come with it? When you begin to realize that each new demand is making you better, more skilled, more savvy, about the direction you are heading—the direction you always wanted to go—it’s much easier to laugh at yourself and the situation, knowing the errors are not permanent, not damaging, and that you will not only emerge unscathed, but wiser and happier for taking responsibility for where you are now heading.