Day 273

Remember Flip Wilson? In the 1970's he had a TV show; he did a skit where he had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. His catch-phrase was "The devil made me do it."

I feel a little like that right now, only I seem to have a Buddhist monk on one shoulder and a drill Sergeant on the other. The monk says, "Slow down, take it easy. You are in a time of transition, take the time to experience both the grief and joy associated with the changes in your life."

The drill Sergeant is unsympathetic to my situation, a real type-A asshole. He blasts insults and orders: "Get off your ass you lazy slob. You graduated 4 months ago. What are you waiting for? Get to work! Life is passing you by while you sit here gazing out the window. You disgust me!"

I am trying to slow down, take care of myself and pay attention. I suspect that opportunity will come knocking. When it does I would rather greet it with the demeanor of the monk.

Day 272

I few weeks ago someone told me that I am a little self-absorbed. Ouch! In reality it wasn't that painful, in part because it wasn't hurled in anger as an accusation. It was, instead, a statement based on observation of behavior. Also, I recognized the truth in it.

I think that we are all self-absorbed. Maybe we're just built that way. Some of is, especially women, work hard to hide this character trait, pretending to always be altruistic and to harbor nothing but concern for others. This is, at best, dishonest. It can, at times, be dangerous and destructive.

No, I do not aim to be unselfish. I aim to be self-aware. Unfortunately, I have developed a habit of being self-conscious instead. The distinction is subtle yet significant. Being self-conscious is about maintaining the facade, convincing others that the mask I wear is real. It is all about ego. Being self-aware means that I am focused on my experiences in the here and now, without attaching myself to them. I am aware of my thoughts and feelings without clinging.

It is a practice that begins and ends with the statement: Right now I am aware that...

Day 271

We have a new neighbor. We've never actually seen him but we often hear what I imagine to be his mating call. Like a snoring giant, he calls out with a tediously protracted, descending groan. Bill thinks it is a frog. I imagine something bigger.

This morning as I was sitting my mind was flitting from one thing to the next like an errant squirrel. I thought about my plans for the day, the week, the rest of my life...I thought back on a conversation I had with someone I love...I thought about science and philosophy and the symbology of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland...

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted. "Yeeeeeooooooow. Yeeeeeooooooow!" My neighbor was calling me back to the here and now. I took a deep breath and took pleasure in the moment.

Day 270

It seems that I have been rushing from one task to another for a few months. Now that I have returned from my visits with relatives and settled Kat in at Evergreen, it is time to embark on the plans that I started making when I graduated in the spring.

I thought that I was ready to launch my dreams but now it seems that there is something standing in the way: my weight. I hate to admit it really, not because I am in denial about being fat. My rotundness does not escape me. I have, however, always rejected the notion that I must be thin to succeed. Society tells me that I must be svelte to be accepted and accomplished and I raise my chubby little middle finger in salute (while eating a chocolate bar with the other hand).

Lately there is a truth more profound than my rebellion rising up in me. It is an awakening to the fact that at my current weight I lack the energy and confidence to accomplish my professional goals. I am pretty sure that losing weight will boast both. Now I have to ask myself: Am I ready to end my temper tantrum and put down the food?

Day 269

Since I brought up the topic of menopause yesterday I feel the need to say a few words in the defense of "the change." It sounds so ominous and certainly most of use have been filled with dread at the prospect of ripening into old crones. Despite all the warnings I rather like the idea.

Above all else menopause is the cessation of fertility. As someone who never particularly prized my fertility, I bid it a fond farewell. I will miss the cyclic nature of the whole process; the sense that my body is connected to the phases of the moon and movement of the tides. I suspect that if I am conscious I will find other ways to identify with the flow of life.

There is the matter of hormones and the havoc they can wreak. Since adolescence I have experienced what is commonly called PMS. I prefer to think of it as my time of power. There are a few days every month when my normally sweet demeanor is transformed. I become a bitch goddess. Menopause carries with it the prospect that I will become a full-time bitch goddess. Imagine all that power! I suspect that I am finally at a stage in life when I am ready to harness it and allow it to fuel my creative visions.

Watch out world, another old crone / bitch goddess is making her debut.

Day 268

I few days ago a friends sent me an email. He said that he had been reading my blog and that it was apparent that I was having a hard time this summer. I wasn't sure what he meant but it bothered me.

I have been a little more moody lately, a combination of sadness and anger that I analysed to no avail. It was hard to pinpoint an external source or even an unmet need that I could tag these feelings onto. Then it occurred to me, these feelings are hormonal, the kind of fluctuations that I usually only experience for one or two days a month. Lately, I seem to be on an emotional roller coaster more often than not.

I started to put the clues together: moodiness, hot flashes...my God, it's menopause! What a funny coincidence: I find myself dealing with menopause during the year that I have committed to the practice of nonviolence. Can you say irony, boys and girls?

Day 267

I have been having trouble getting out of bed in the morning. Sure, it's been colder in the mornings and I may be sleep deprived from my recent trip to Olympia. Somehow I think it is more than that. I seem to lack focus and a direction; I am not engaged in the kind of work that will energize me.

How do I create (and continually recreate) the kind of roadmap that will give me the direction and focus I need. My immediate inclination is to reach outside myself. I will hire a life coach. The problem (or perhaps saving grace) is that I don't have much money right now.

It occurs to me that perhaps I will have to coach myself. Maybe that is the first leg of the journey.

Day 266

I have this student in my class who is driving me crazy. He is new to higher education and he knows everything. He gives me helpful tips to enhance my teaching and accuses me of various injustices when he doesn't agree with my decisions. He reminds me a little of myself.

My first job out of college was for a small not-for profit agency. After six months on the job I thought I had a pretty good handle on how the place should be run. I constantly provided unsolicited (and mostly unappreciated) advice to my boss. I complained about the working conditions and demanded more respect. I even had a few Norma Rae moments when I tried to organize my co-workers in rebellion.

In hindsight that was the best job I ever had. I was too naive and inexperienced to realize just how good I had it. Just like the student in my class, I didn't know what I didn't know.

Day 265

I went to church a few days ago. There was a young man there singing an original song. I don't know the name of the song but there was a refrain that I can't get out of my mind: "There's a river running through the mind of God." It was about this metaphorical river that is life. We are all part of the river; we can, if we choose, surrender to the flow.

I have always been fascinated by the ways that people define the almighty and the relationship between the creator and that which was created. The ancient Greeks enjoyed a bevy of Gods and Goddesses; a deity for every occasion. Christians, by contrast, believe in only one God and take comfort in his only son and the salvation he offers.

I think that perhaps my religious views are best summed up in this song: a poetic, rich piece of mythology. We are all (animals, human and nonhuman, plants, objects, animate and inanimate, the whole shebang) part of the mind of God; Life is a great river that carries us toward the infinite unknown. I offer no empirical data in support of this finding. But I do enjoy the way I feel when I imagine myself as part of the flow.

Day 264

Life is generous is so many ways. Unfortunately, most of us view the world through a lens colored by pain and seldom see the opportunities that are presented to us. In truth, life offers us do-overs everyday, chances to relive old scenes from the past and supply new endings.

Someone close to me has just such an opportunity right now. She had some painful experiences associated with school; these experiences shaped her worldview. Now she is starting over: a new school, a new opportunity to learn that she is not a victim. This is a chance to rewrite the story of her life. I can't wait for the next chapter.

Day 263

I have always been keenly aware of social class. As a child I could see the invisible lines that separated me from my teachers: people from the other side of the tracks. No one talked about these divisions but they were real none the less. Most everyone else I knew was poor. More than anything else that is what defined us. I have always viewed those with wealth with curiosity more than envy.

Over the last few days I have stayed in the home of people who are, if not wealthy, clearly comfortable. I have observed a few things. They possess many beautiful objects. Something about the way they are displayed says to me that they are meant for display, to make an impression on others. It must take a lot of time and effort to decide just what to purchase and how it should be presented to the world.

There are complicated gadgets and widgets in this home that I recognize only by function: a Swiss made washing machine and dryer with buttons and dials that seem, well, foreign; a coffee maker that has a fourteen-page instruction manual and makes one cup at a time; facets that have three separate knobs for adjusting temperature, pressure and location; door locks that require a specific series of manipulations to coax that bolt into place. These items all seem unnecessarily complicated.

Being rich is hard work. Just as there is a fine line between simplicity and poverty, there is a certain complexity associated with wealth. The difference comes down to choice. Whereas we may not choose poverty, we can opt for simplicity. Likewise, even if wealth is thrust upon us we need not succumb to the complexities.

Day 262

I went to church this morning. During meditation the minister whispered, "You are holy and whole, sacred and divine."

Wow. I wonder what the world would be like if everyone, everywhere heard that message and believed it.

Day 261

I drove seven hours today to drop Steven off at Evergreen. Now I am sitting in the kitchen of a home owned by my brother and sister-in-law. They are on a Russian cruise and generously offered to let me stay at their home.

It is a small, luxurious house that sits at water's edge facing Puget Sound. It is a treat to stay here. At the same time, I find it a bit unsettling: perhaps it is the $200 coffee/tea maker that I can't figure out how to operate or the boats sailing by just outside the kitchen window as I eat tomato soup for dinner.

I think about the homeless man I saw at Safeway where I went to buy the soup. I wonder what he is doing tonight.

Day 260

I was riding my bike through downtown today thinking about how fortunate we are to have such a vibrant commons; A place where old men sit on park benches, lulled by sound of children laughing and playing.

I was approaching a crosswalk at a busy intersection (busy by Moscow standards, anyway) when I saw a bearded young man making his way slowly across the street with the aid of a walker, his right foot dragging with every step. There was an older man with him who looked sturdy and capable in comparison to his companion. The light went through a whole cycle as they crossed the street, holding up traffic. The drivers held hostage in their cars, mesmerized by every tortured step.

I made my way quickly through the intersection and rode by the two men on the other side. The older man said something to the younger man who replied, "Whatever." He went on, "I hate that word: whatever. It's just a nice way to say fuck you."

I don't think that Fellini could have created a more interesting scene.

Day 259

Just once I would like to be like the movie-of-the-week families. When their kids go away to college its all endearing looks, fond reflections and hopeful hugs. The kids drive off into the sunset in hand-me-down Volvos or get dropped off at the dorms where the other co-eds greet them fondly, all good-kids, from good homes.

We are leaving in a few days to take my son to his new college. He is 26 and this isn't his first foray into the world. In fact, this is his third college. As cliche as it sounds, he's still trying to find himself. We don't have a used Volvo and we're all a little grumpy about the trip. We started to snip at each other a little today - nothing at all like the movie-of-the-week families. We're more reality television, heavy on the reality.

Day 258

I have a number of new students in my classes right now - by new I mean new to college. They are like infants, desperately trying to survive in a world that is foreign and frightening. Their ignorance astounds me.

Then I remember a statistics class that I took a few years ago. The instructor was Turkish. It took me a few weeks to realize that he was in fact speaking English. Chi-square, probabilities, coefficients, binomial distribution: it was all Greek to me.

Oh, how I suffered in that class. I can remember what it felt like to be ignorant and to have my ignorance transformed. Those are probably much more important lessons than the meaning of a z-score.

Day 257

Just the other day, I heard someone say, "Our mothers cannot give us what they did not receive from their mothers." It sounded wise but didn't ring true for me. It always amazed me that my mother give us, me and my brother, the kind of unconditional love that she never felt she received. How did she do that?

I think that she approached parenting as a creative activity. She was determined to create something different than anything she had witnessed before. My mother was an artist and we were her works of art.

This taught me that any activity can be creative if we approach it with that intent. We always have a choice. We do not have to merely reproduce our lives from the molds handed down to us from those who came before. We can, each of us, make our life a work of art.

Day 256

My friend Katrina facilitates these amazing constellation workshops. I went to one yesterday and found the answer to a riddle I have been toying with.

I told her and the group about this desire I have to "do meaningful work" and how I haven't felt that I have contributed in a meaningful way in terms of work for a very long time and how I'm not even sure what meaningful work is anymore. I was looking for answers. The group used the constellation method to act out my dilemma.

I was reminded to 1) let go of the belief that if I do meaningful work someone will likely come along and fuck it up, and 2) follow the joy. Where is the joy? Is there work I can approach with joy? What kind of work will being me joy? These are the questions I left the workshop with.

This morning as I was walking I thought back over all the times I was engaged in work that was joyful. It was confusing because there wasn't a single kind of work that I found joy in. I have done public speaking and group facilitation from a place of joy and I have also served dinner to hungry teenagers from a place of joy. It wasn't the activity that was important; it was the process.

So here is the answer to my riddle:

Meaningful work is joyful work. Joyful work is born out of a creative process. It is fueled by a creative vision. It is also in service to a creative vision.

Day 255

So, yesterday I was feeling (yeah, I'll say it again) crappy, alternating between self-pity and self-flagellation, when I got a phone call from a friend. She is a life coach and is facilitating a workshop today called, "Restoring Balance and Harmony." She still had a few places in the workshop and invited me to come at no charge.

Wow, what a gift! Sometimes the universe really does seem to speak to me and give me what I need. I guess the least I can do is pay attention.

Day 254

I had a crappy week. I tried to think of a more sophisticated way to state it but the best word I could find to describe this week was (pardon me for using it again) CRAPPY.

I had a massive number of papers to grade; most were boring, ranging from unimaginative to illiterate. I was plagued with complaints from students who were dissatisfied with me, the class or both. Mostly I was in a funk over how successful the rest of the world (or at least those in my immediate hemisphere) seems to be in comparison to me.

Perhaps that is the root of the problem. I spent a lot of time comparing myself to others this week and I did not fair well. In fact, I came to the conclusion that I have not really felt a sense of accomplishment in many years. I know this may seem strange to some people since I finished a PhD recently but it's true. Inside I feel like a failure.

I read once that the best way to feel good about yourself is to do something you feel good about. I suppose it's time to get busy...

Day 253

I had a friend once, a young man in his 20's. He was going through a divorce and I said to him, "You must be feeling really vulnerable right now." All the blood drained from his face and he stammered like I had just accused him of a heinous crime. Perhaps I had. Vulnerability is frowned upon in our society, especially for grown men and women who hope to succeed in a "man's world."

Yesterday I was having a conversation with a friend. We were talking about why some people are more successful than others in academic settings. She described one particular person as impervious. By contrast, she described the two if us as vulnerable. Success in the world of scholarship or business requires one to be well-armored and invulnerable.

I want to succeed in the world but I want to remain open and, yes, vulnerable. How does one do that?

Day 252

Yesterday, on my walk, I noticed the first signs of fall, plants transitioning, dying really. I have never been one to grieve the loss of summer. I enjoy the cool crisp air of autumn. I love the changing hues of the trees. I am reminded that life is always changing; nature is all about transition.

A few feet from my house I notice something smashed into the pavement. It is a little frog; I am sure it is the one that startled me when it jumped from my bicycle helmet a few days ago. A symbol of luck and joy? Maybe not. Transition? Yes.

On the road a few minutes later I notice the remains of a squirrel; the victim of a speeding car. It was flattened except for the two deaf ears that pointed toward heaven. I looked closely at the eyes, little beads devoid of life. He was clearly gone.

I started to fantasize about finding a body in the brush by the side of the road. I have seen plenty of crime dramas; women are discarded in areas like this on the outskirts of town. They are usually naked; their bodies bruised and broken. I imagine how frightening and traumatic it would be to see such a thing.

There is almost no shoulder and I am forced to walk in the road. I start to notice the bends that might obscure the view of approaching cars. Would a car speeding around one of these curves see me? Could I jump in the brush to save myself? Would there be time? Could I end up like the squirrel or the imaginary woman: my body broken, my spirit gone?

Day 251

I have always believed that the truth is simple. That's one reason I was drawn to nonviolent communication; it's simple. By focusing our interactions on needs (what I need; what you need) we can avoid and resolve conflicts. Unfortunately, we humans just love to complicate things.

What are the factors that get in the way of nonviolent communication process? First, most of us don't know how to ask for what we need so we resort to covert methods to get our needs met. Instead of asking for a birthday party (to meet my need for appreciation and affection) I get angry and resentful when I don't get one.

The feelings are a clue - they point to the need. It's simple. Well, not really, because most of us have a limited range of emotion that we feel comfortable expressing. Anger is my go-to emotion. If I have an unmet need for love or affection, I get angry. If I have an unmet need for clarity or self-expression, I get angry. If I have a need for a bagel and I can't find one, I get angry. Some people get sad. Some people get afraid. It is difficult to identify the need when every need comes cloaked in the same feeling.

OK, nonviolent communication is simple. People are messy.

Day 250

I got up this morning, sat in meditation, had a nice breakfast and went for a walk. I was feeling fine until I checked my email. I had an angry message from a student.

He made a mistake a few days ago which I asked him to correct in an e-mail message. He told me that he didn't appreciate my tone and that he wasn't stupid so I didn't need to treat him like he was. He also told me that he was reporting this to his counselor.

I read a story when I was a kid about a guy who was treated badly and went home and kicked his dog. It was about how a foul mood can be transmitted from one person to another person (or dog). If I had a dog I probably would have wanted to kick it after reading that email.

Instead, I spent a very long time crafting a response. I was careful not to apologize. I told him that I was confused by his anger and asked for clarification. I also told him that I was disappointed that we were starting our relationship off in this way and expressed my desire to communicate without hostility and threats.

I suppose I could have been defensive (my first instinct) or pulled rank as the teacher. What good would that have served? Besides, he was obviously already having a bad day and maybe be has a dog.

Day 249

I had several friends celebrating accomplishments recently. On the outside I am celebrating with them: smiling, hugging, singing their praises . On the inside I am jealous; carefully keeping that little green monster from showing through. It is a miserable strain. Mostly because I feel guilty for feeling jealous: suffering on top of suffering.

There is a way out but it is not easy. I try to identify the unmet needs under these feelings of jealousy. The needs that seem most prominent are those for inclusion, respect and security. Observing my friends as they approach exciting new opportunities brings these needs into focus. There is nothing left to do but feel the feelings, empathize with myself and focus my energy on developing and enacting strategies to meet my needs. Why isn't there a pill I can take instead?

Day 248

Bill and I went to the Co-Op yesterday. We sat in the midst of all the activity: babies crying, people reading papers, children running and laughing, workers filling orders and cleaning tables, young mothers and old men starring blankly into space. They came and went as we talked.

It amazes me that we never run out of things to say to each other. I suppose that is the secret to any good relationship; the ability to connect. We stay connected because we spend time focused on what is really alive for us: our feelings, our ideas, our dreams. We don't spend a lot of time engaged in idle chit chat or gossip. When we talk about the past it is from a present moment perspective. Our relationship has not always been harmonious. There was a time when we fought almost daily. But even then we kept it real. We continued to focus on what was alive for us even when it was painful.

It is a tremendous gift: a relationship based on authentic connection. All it requires of me is to show up as myself; not an easy task for someone so accustomed to performing.

Day 247

Since I teach online I do not know what my students look like. This is both an advantage and a disadvantage. I am not swayed by physical characteristics, style of dress, gestures or habits. At the same time, it can be difficult to connect without the benefit of eye contact or physical proximity. That made something that happened today all the more meaningful.

I had a student share with me that he is transgender, having transitioned from female to male. I only know him as a man and had not reason to suspect any secret past. I felt honored that he divulged this piece of his history. I was glad that I had created a safe place for him to do so.

This practice of creating a safe place for others is something that I value, perhaps because I have so often been in search of a safe place myself. I long for that space where I feel comfortable truly being and expressing my true self. I can create that place for others through acceptance. It is good practice, teaching me that I can create a safe place within myself through self-acceptance.

Day 246

I am always a little grumpy when I am in the Tri-Cities. It's a place I used to live. I never felt that me and this place were suited for each other. It's a community that seems to be based on a consumer mentality. Progress is valued over tradition. The pace is faster than I care for. I am generally ready to go home as soon as I get here.

My grumpiness last night was compounded by sleeplessness. I was up by 4:00 a.m. and decided to go to a coffee shop to grade papers on my laptop. I stepped out of my mother-in-laws house and my eyes were immediately drawn to the pre-dawn desert sky. It was clear and the stars shone magnificently. It was breathtaking - a reminder that there is no place or circumstance that is without beauty. Everything in the universe is pierced by the divine.

Day 245

We are in Kennewick, Washington today visiting Bill's mom. It is a biannual event for us, one I seldom look forward to. It's not that Bill's mom is an unpleasant person. In fact, she is mostly kind and considerate. However, we have a history.

She said things once that were very hurtful to me. It was a long time ago and I have tried to forgive her. However, there are times, usually when I am in another room and I hear her murmuring to Bill, when I remember and the pain comes back full force.

Sometimes careless comments scatter seeds of animosity that grow likes weeds in a relationship. If we are not careful the weeds can take hold, spreading rhizomatically. It takes time and energy to grow a garden on weed infested ground. To begin we must get our hands dirty, work the soil and reclaim the land.

Day 244

Sometimes I get angry at someone because I think they are mistreating me. It may be a perceived lack of respect, a failure to acknowledge my needs or an attempt to impose their own will on me. I blame the other person for my sense of powerlessness.

I have to remember, however, that it was me who gave my power away. I am the only one who can. I cannot be taken advantage of without my permission on some level. Clearly my anger is misdirected. It is not helpful to turn my anger on myself. Instead I can acknowledge the ways I have betrayed myself and vow to stand up for my own needs in the future.