Imagine

I like to think of Ursula K Le Guin as my virtual mentor.

thankful 2021

I completely respect those who abstain from the Thanksgiving holiday out of defiance to colonial capitalism that upholds white supremacy. Instead of a protest altogether, we partake in a harvest feast to give thanks for our blessings and the land we live on, as native communities have done from time immemorial.

Our family always writes out what we are thankful for, to take the time and acknowledge our blessings and our privilege. We also donate to native organizations like Chi-Nations Youth Council, working to create a safe space for native youth in the city, and DigDeep, which aims to bring water to every person in the US (as natives living on reservations arethe population to most likely not have access to running water in their homes).

May you all have a bountiful harvest.

Believe

I love Ted Lasso.

Feeling my way

I’ve been realizing more lately that I don’t immediately have all the answers. Many folks look to me, in my professional and my personal life, for advice or a recommendation - knowing that I’m the type of person who is well-read and does my research on any decision I’ve needed to make in the past. I’m also strong-willed and opinionated, so if you ask me a question it is unlikely you won’t get some sort of answer.

But lately I’m trying to take that learning and research pace a bit slower - process more of the information. Most decisions are not urgent, and so many of them these days (looking at you, covid-risk-analysis) involve more gut-feelings than before. Where I might have made entirely data-backed conclusions previously, I’m factoring in my own anxiety or mental health more. I continue to learn, about the world, and myself. I’m feeling my way through it.

Pottery lessons

Earlier this year Søren and I took a pottery class together. And we learned so much - about ceramics, and each other, and about how things are fragile but can be remade, and how sometimes firm pressure is necessary, and that you can always try and see what happens. It was amazing to spend the time with him and these momentos of that make me smile.

Skepticism v cynicism

An exercise in maintaining balance.

Aestivation

The next phase of reopening after a year of pandemic-changed living is making me want to root down a bit deeper and do some contemplation. Thanks to my youngest son's love of the natural world (and the amazing show Tiny World) I've learned a bit about aestivation lately. Where animals lie dormant in hot and dry months, especially in the desert, waiting for more hospitable conditions. This period of inactivity with a slower metabolic rates allows the animal to conserve energy and stabilize their internal systems, which sounds pretty good about right now.

This week begins summer for my family, and we are taking a trip to family in Ohio. My goal is to lay low, conserve energy, and perhaps do some reflection about what has happened this year and when I'll be ready to be in a more active state.

(More on estivation / aestivation)

This feels hard

Processing the pandemic, and its affects on our lives, I’ve found to be a very personal experience. I’ve tried to talk about it to friends, or to family, and I often come away feeling unheard or unseen. Reading articles does little to help either, which vacillate wildly from folks finding new hobbies and creative outlets to folks binge watching double digit seasons of shows. I can relate to none of this.

I’ve been extremely privileged during 2020 (as I have been all my life). Not only did I keep my job, but early in the pandemic I got a new one. Our family has been healthy. We are able to pay for childcare. We have the means to secure technology and internet connection for all four of us to effectively work and school from home. We have many privileges that most do not.

And yet, this year is the hardest I’ve ever experienced. I have been and continue to be overwhelmed with the magnitude of what needs to get done. My new job comes with much stress, a growing team of 19 so far, only two of which I’ve ever met in person. And hundreds of new faces filled my year - and an average of seven hours of meetings fills each day. It’s rare I have even 20 minutes for lunch. Balancing this responsibility and stress with the gratitude of having a job takes up too much brain space.

But more than usual, everything is a blessing and curse wrapped up into one. The ability to hire a nanny means navigating an employer/employee relationship in your home, and all the intricacies and awkwardness of introducing a person to your daily “pandemic life”. Taking on that exposure risk for childcare meant that we didn’t see anyone else, friends or family, in order to minimize their potential exposure. Being able to work from home meant never not being at work. I’ve worked the longest hours ever in my life.

And of course all this on top of the “normal” fighting for social justice, and championing women and girls, and doing our part to preserve the environment. Not to mention attempting to keep our kiddos growing healthy and strong, mentally and socially.

So when folks talk about this year as having had a chance to hit a reset button, or having the time to reflect on what was really important, or finding their true priorities because they spent more time with their families, I cannot relate. And I say that with more than a hint of jealousy. I’d love to have had that time. I’m looking forward to when I’ll be able to process all that has happened in these past 15 months. But right now, I’m still down here, growing weary of treading water.

I’m not sure when I’ll be able to breathe easy - if someone will come along with a life vest, or I’m going to have to figure out where to swim. I’m waiting for the waves to calm down so I can figure it out.

Days of Understanding

I am happy to say that my employer, Herman Miller, is part of CEO Action for Inclusion and Diversity. And this week was part of a campaign of Days of Understanding. The ideas is that company leaders from across the globe host conversations that cultivate understanding among their employees. Hopefully this open dialogue is part of a bigger effort (as ours is at Herman Miller), and not just on one day.

Over the course of the hosted conversations the last couple days, I took notes of meaningful comments and phrases from the moderators and the crowd. I continue to be impressed by my work community’s ability to show up for each other, and be vulnerable in these conversations and explorations of race, culture, and social justice. We still have a long way to go, but I’m confident in our path.

The past

So much of our life is defined by the stories we tell ourselves. It is the narrative we build around us. Which means we can change the narrative.

James Clear, the author of Atomic Habits, tweeted last year:

The events of your past are fixed. The meaning of your past is not.

The influence of every experience in your life is determined by the meaning you assign to it.

Assign a more useful meaning to your past and it becomes easier to take a more useful action in the present.

So often in our lives we assume truths about ourselves without questioning them. Especially ones from our past. But a growth mindset asks us to revisit that, and keep evolving our ideas of ourselves - keep writing our new narratives. This can especially be the case around seminal or polarizing events of our past. The saying goes, it isn’t what happens but how you react to it. But what if how you react to it evolves over time? What if you assign it a new meaning in your story? How can it move you forward?

Especially as we as a society to start to emerge from the devastation of the last year in a pandemic, individuals will be different. We have lived very different lives, often apart from each other. We should be aware of each other’s stories, but also our own. The New York Times had a piece this last week titled “You Can Be a Different Person After the Pandemic.”

But don’t let it restrict you to the pandemic - you can always grow as a person, telling yourself (and others) a new story about the events of your past. It’s our life; let’s tell the story we want to tell.

My own muse

My 2021 goal is to reflect more. And part of that is Frida’s sentiment that she herself is “the subject I want to know better”.

I'm reading about Stoicism and the idea that what we need is inward. Marcus Aurelius writes in Meditations: “Look inward. Don’t let the true nature or value of anything elude you.” I'm trying to look inside my own mind more - examine myself, inspire myself.

Hope is fuel.

We pin a lot on hope. And that can be a good thing, as long as it isn't everything. Preparation and hard work go a long way too.