Last Friday, after our meeting with my new financial advisor, Ken and I had a chance to walk the streets of Portland. We don't often get down that way together, so we took advantage of the opportunity.
There is a bookstore where I always stop when I am in that part of the city. I walked in the door, took a few steps to the left, and found myself in front of the shelves of poetry. There, perched on a stand, was a book of poetry by the principal who first hired me to teach. I was speechless. I knew he had been writing since before I met him. Years ago I ran into him at a track meet and learned he was returning to graduate school for a Master of Fine Arts degree. According to the back of the book, he earned that degree and now teaches creative writing and American literature at a high school. I stood there and marveled at his name on the cover.
I know bits and pieces of his story. I know it wasn't easy for him to return to school. I know it was what he always wanted and that he is now doing what he loves to do ~ write poetry and teach. It took years of hard work. It meant he had to face hard truths and make tough decisions. I am proud to know him, and I hope he's happy.
I bought an autographed copy of his book. I enjoy his writing, but I bought his book for a reason larger than his poems. I bought the thin volume to keep on my desk to remind me of what is possible. I bought it because it is a symbol of what happens when a person figures out how to get where they want to be, whether or not anyone else believes that it's possible.
I started this post with a question for the title. I've since changed that question to a statement. I know how I will get where I want to be: with hard work, facing the truth, making tough decisions, and believing that it's possible.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Last Lesson of Randy Pausch
*Note: My latest post at 50-something moms blog: Lessons I Learned About Kids and Computers. Also, I am now listed as a contributor under the "About Us" tab on the 50-something moms site. Check it out!
At the moment I am breathless and sweating. I went down to the end our our driveway to pick up the paper and leave letters in the mailbox. Then I just took off walking, as fast I could go. I needed time to reflect and talk to myself. What did I want to write about the death of Randy Pausch?
Earlier this summer Diane Sawyer did a special report for ABC about Randy Pausch and his Last Lecture. If you don't know, Randy was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last year at age 47, married 8 years with three small children. He was a professor at Carnegie Mellon and gave a lecture, that was to be his last, about the lessons of life. The talk was meant for his children, to be guidance for them when he was no longer there. Through the magic of the internet his lecture was launched to the world and received with open arms.
I learned on Sunday that Randy Pausch died Friday, July 25. I was deeply saddened. It is one thing to know that someone has a terminal illness but something else altogether when that person dies. Last night Diane Sawyer hosted a special update on Randy's last days. He talked about his last trip to the hospital and was shown at home playing with his children and hugging his wife. I held it together until the show flashed back to the end of his lecture when he says, "It's not about your dreams. It's about how you lead your life."
Randy did not know how many days he had left. He made the point that none of us know. It's what he continued to do, right up until his last day on earth, that is the lesson for all of us: he lived his life. His words had a huge impact on me. The video of him laughing with his family at the end of his life made those words real. His dreams did not matter at the point, but how he led his life did.
On today's walk I reminded myself that on Monday's walk I said I was ready for whatever came next. I asked for opportunities to open up and present themselves. That afternoon I read about a contest for an innovation grant on Jamie's blog, where she generously shares whatever she knows with her readers. Monday evening I checked a job board I had bookmarked and found a new job listed that interests me. These were opportunities to pursue my business and apply for a part-time job in my field.
I wasn't home yesterday because I had a hair cut, an acupuncture appointment, and errands to run. During my acupuncture treatment I had a moment where I knew "what to do next" would come to me. I came home to find encouraging words from readers and helpful ideas from a girlfriend who keeps saying, "Absolutely, go for it!"
So I am going for it. I am going to enter the contest for that grant and apply for that job. The journey continues....
At the moment I am breathless and sweating. I went down to the end our our driveway to pick up the paper and leave letters in the mailbox. Then I just took off walking, as fast I could go. I needed time to reflect and talk to myself. What did I want to write about the death of Randy Pausch?
Earlier this summer Diane Sawyer did a special report for ABC about Randy Pausch and his Last Lecture. If you don't know, Randy was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last year at age 47, married 8 years with three small children. He was a professor at Carnegie Mellon and gave a lecture, that was to be his last, about the lessons of life. The talk was meant for his children, to be guidance for them when he was no longer there. Through the magic of the internet his lecture was launched to the world and received with open arms.
I learned on Sunday that Randy Pausch died Friday, July 25. I was deeply saddened. It is one thing to know that someone has a terminal illness but something else altogether when that person dies. Last night Diane Sawyer hosted a special update on Randy's last days. He talked about his last trip to the hospital and was shown at home playing with his children and hugging his wife. I held it together until the show flashed back to the end of his lecture when he says, "It's not about your dreams. It's about how you lead your life."
Randy did not know how many days he had left. He made the point that none of us know. It's what he continued to do, right up until his last day on earth, that is the lesson for all of us: he lived his life. His words had a huge impact on me. The video of him laughing with his family at the end of his life made those words real. His dreams did not matter at the point, but how he led his life did.
On today's walk I reminded myself that on Monday's walk I said I was ready for whatever came next. I asked for opportunities to open up and present themselves. That afternoon I read about a contest for an innovation grant on Jamie's blog, where she generously shares whatever she knows with her readers. Monday evening I checked a job board I had bookmarked and found a new job listed that interests me. These were opportunities to pursue my business and apply for a part-time job in my field.
I wasn't home yesterday because I had a hair cut, an acupuncture appointment, and errands to run. During my acupuncture treatment I had a moment where I knew "what to do next" would come to me. I came home to find encouraging words from readers and helpful ideas from a girlfriend who keeps saying, "Absolutely, go for it!"
So I am going for it. I am going to enter the contest for that grant and apply for that job. The journey continues....
Sunday, July 27, 2008
The Difference Is Night and Day
I like to stay up late. I always have. Whether a result of parental habits or genetics, I am a night owl.
I feel most productive at night. It is under the cover of night when I think most clearly and feel most comfortable in my own skin. I have had the day to work out the kinks and clear away the worries. I finally begin to feel settled and calm, and I realize it's 9:00 at night. My husband is getting ready for bed, and I'm just getting started.
Some nights I hate to go to bed because I know I have to start the process all over again in the morning. And if I haven't been sleeping well, which I haven't, the last thing I want is to climb into bed, where I toss and turn and confront circular thinking. When sleep finally comes, it is with bizarre dreams and images that provide no comfort and answer no questions. Then I struggle to awake in the morning to start the cycle anew.
Today Ken and I went for a four-mile walk on the rail trail along the river. The sun was hot, and the breeze was strong. It felt good to stretch my legs, swing my arms, and wipe sweat from my forehead. I needed to be outside, to move and not think. We inspected a new pier on the river. We sidestepped bicycles on the path.
Then, after our walk, we stopped for sweets and a cold drink in an air-conditioned diner. In the ladies room I was stung by a bee, which struck me as odd since I had just spent an hour outside with nary an insect present. Outside came in....
And inside went out with the work we did on the porch yesterday. We want to enjoy the space so we cleared away the cobwebs and carted away the clutter. We centered a wooden bench for the view down the driveway and stood back to admire the result. It works as an outside living space, under cover from the sun and the rain.
So the days move along and the nights crawl by. Since there is no good time to start the day, I may as well stay up late. Then sleep will come more quickly and I can start again tomorrow....
I feel most productive at night. It is under the cover of night when I think most clearly and feel most comfortable in my own skin. I have had the day to work out the kinks and clear away the worries. I finally begin to feel settled and calm, and I realize it's 9:00 at night. My husband is getting ready for bed, and I'm just getting started.
Some nights I hate to go to bed because I know I have to start the process all over again in the morning. And if I haven't been sleeping well, which I haven't, the last thing I want is to climb into bed, where I toss and turn and confront circular thinking. When sleep finally comes, it is with bizarre dreams and images that provide no comfort and answer no questions. Then I struggle to awake in the morning to start the cycle anew.
Today Ken and I went for a four-mile walk on the rail trail along the river. The sun was hot, and the breeze was strong. It felt good to stretch my legs, swing my arms, and wipe sweat from my forehead. I needed to be outside, to move and not think. We inspected a new pier on the river. We sidestepped bicycles on the path.
Then, after our walk, we stopped for sweets and a cold drink in an air-conditioned diner. In the ladies room I was stung by a bee, which struck me as odd since I had just spent an hour outside with nary an insect present. Outside came in....
And inside went out with the work we did on the porch yesterday. We want to enjoy the space so we cleared away the cobwebs and carted away the clutter. We centered a wooden bench for the view down the driveway and stood back to admire the result. It works as an outside living space, under cover from the sun and the rain.
So the days move along and the nights crawl by. Since there is no good time to start the day, I may as well stay up late. Then sleep will come more quickly and I can start again tomorrow....
Friday, July 25, 2008
Finally, A Meeting of Three
Sometimes, if something is going to happen at all, it has to happen quickly. Each time I have talked with my new financial advisor, she has suggested she meet with Ken and me together to get a sense of what our priorities are. Well, trying to set up a meeting with Ken is like trying to predict the weather ~ he rarely knows more than a day or two in advance what his schedule is. For 22 years the stock phrase has been, "I will be there if I'm home." Consequently, I have been dragging my feet in planning a meeting for the three of us.
So I wasn't surprised when the idea of a meeting came up yesterday; she called to see if I had any questions about the transfer of my accounts to her management firm. I received the paperwork this week, and I was impressed that she followed up with a phone call. When she mentioned again that she wanted to meet with Ken and me together, I was polite, without a clue about when such a meeting could happen. I asked her what days were good for her, and she said it varied from week to week and sometimes it worked to plan just a day or two in advance, which was music to my ears.
When Ken got home yesterday, I mentioned the phone call from my financial advisor [I just like the way that sounds] and how she would like to schedule a meeting in her office. Then Ken said he would be working down that way on Friday. Really? I gave her a call and left a message, and she called this morning to say this afternoon worked for her, too. Really? It had all come together in less than 24 hours.
Alrighty then. We had a plan, which only needed a slight modification when Ken rushed home to shower and change and ride down with me...but that kind of adjustment has become part and parcel of the way we do things. I called ahead to say we might be a few minutes late, but we arrived right on time [I find that a call ahead to say I may be late is the surest way to get someplace on time].
Now I was nervous for a variety of reasons. First, what would Ken think of the woman I have selected to handle my retirement accounts? Second, what would the woman who now knows intimate details of my financial life think of my husband and how we interact as a couple? And third, what would my new financial advisor think about our financial situation as a midlife couple who is just now coming to grips with what life will look like when Ken reaches retirement age? It was a lot to contemplate. I was grateful I had less than 24 hours to consider the possible answers to these questions.
There was nothing to worry about. Once again I was struck by the sincere, gentle approach of this woman I trust to manage my money. She asks the right questions and listens to the answers. Her positive attitude always puts me at ease. She talked about interweaving my accounts with Ken's to create a complete picture of what we have and what we need. She said that we are in this together, and that is just what I needed to hear.
So I wasn't surprised when the idea of a meeting came up yesterday; she called to see if I had any questions about the transfer of my accounts to her management firm. I received the paperwork this week, and I was impressed that she followed up with a phone call. When she mentioned again that she wanted to meet with Ken and me together, I was polite, without a clue about when such a meeting could happen. I asked her what days were good for her, and she said it varied from week to week and sometimes it worked to plan just a day or two in advance, which was music to my ears.
When Ken got home yesterday, I mentioned the phone call from my financial advisor [I just like the way that sounds] and how she would like to schedule a meeting in her office. Then Ken said he would be working down that way on Friday. Really? I gave her a call and left a message, and she called this morning to say this afternoon worked for her, too. Really? It had all come together in less than 24 hours.
Alrighty then. We had a plan, which only needed a slight modification when Ken rushed home to shower and change and ride down with me...but that kind of adjustment has become part and parcel of the way we do things. I called ahead to say we might be a few minutes late, but we arrived right on time [I find that a call ahead to say I may be late is the surest way to get someplace on time].
Now I was nervous for a variety of reasons. First, what would Ken think of the woman I have selected to handle my retirement accounts? Second, what would the woman who now knows intimate details of my financial life think of my husband and how we interact as a couple? And third, what would my new financial advisor think about our financial situation as a midlife couple who is just now coming to grips with what life will look like when Ken reaches retirement age? It was a lot to contemplate. I was grateful I had less than 24 hours to consider the possible answers to these questions.
There was nothing to worry about. Once again I was struck by the sincere, gentle approach of this woman I trust to manage my money. She asks the right questions and listens to the answers. Her positive attitude always puts me at ease. She talked about interweaving my accounts with Ken's to create a complete picture of what we have and what we need. She said that we are in this together, and that is just what I needed to hear.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Making a Mess of Things
I just left a comment on a blog I visited for the first time and unintentionally published it three times. Aaarrrrgggghhhhh. That's never happened before. I feel frazzled and embarrassed. I need to take a step back.
It could be all the sugar I'm consuming: homemade bread pudding, Sam's Club coconut cake, homemade cookies, store-bought turnovers, strawberry licorice. Yesterday my daughter bought me a sugar cookie, and I gobbled it right up and followed with a chaser of McD's sweet tea. When in a funk, eat sugar? Rationally I know that's the worse thing for me. But it all tastes so good. The short-lived sugar high that follows is working for me, while nothing else is.
The cloudy days and periods of torrential rain are not helping. Outside painting has been delayed indefinitely.
My daughter gave me a book, Good Poems for Hard Times selected by Garrison Keillor. I first looked for a poem by Mary Oliver and found one of my favorites (p. 281-282), When Death Comes. It's the end that always gets me:
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
That's a long way from making a mess of things. Oh, I have so much work to do to get where I want to be. Where to begin? Well, for now I'm going to have some bread pudding, a small bowl.
It could be all the sugar I'm consuming: homemade bread pudding, Sam's Club coconut cake, homemade cookies, store-bought turnovers, strawberry licorice. Yesterday my daughter bought me a sugar cookie, and I gobbled it right up and followed with a chaser of McD's sweet tea. When in a funk, eat sugar? Rationally I know that's the worse thing for me. But it all tastes so good. The short-lived sugar high that follows is working for me, while nothing else is.
The cloudy days and periods of torrential rain are not helping. Outside painting has been delayed indefinitely.
My daughter gave me a book, Good Poems for Hard Times selected by Garrison Keillor. I first looked for a poem by Mary Oliver and found one of my favorites (p. 281-282), When Death Comes. It's the end that always gets me:
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
That's a long way from making a mess of things. Oh, I have so much work to do to get where I want to be. Where to begin? Well, for now I'm going to have some bread pudding, a small bowl.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A Cloudy Tuesday
This afternoon I learned the status of the job I applied for three weeks ago. I didn't get the job because, after all was said and done, the position wasn't created. The idea, which I helped develop, was for the non-profit organization that represents social workers to have a legislative advocate work with the organization's board, and the membership, to shape the legislative agenda that social workers in the state say they want. Then the person would have worked with state legislators on behalf of social workers and their clients.
I am disappointed because I wanted the job but also because I think the work is important.
Organizational change is hard. It takes leadership, vision, patience, and persistence. Often it's easier for someone on the outside to see what's possible and what's necessary for the possibilities to become reality. The people on the inside hold all the cards, and they decide who to let in or keep out. I am weary of being kept out.
When I was a teen-ager, I told my father that I wanted to be a boss someday. I wasn't being arrogant. I know how to treat people, and I know how to get a job done. While I attend to details, I can see the big picture and plan a course of action. I think it's time for me to put my talents to work, which may mean that I need to start working for myself. I do not know what shape that may take, but I'm putting it out there.
I am disappointed because I wanted the job but also because I think the work is important.
Organizational change is hard. It takes leadership, vision, patience, and persistence. Often it's easier for someone on the outside to see what's possible and what's necessary for the possibilities to become reality. The people on the inside hold all the cards, and they decide who to let in or keep out. I am weary of being kept out.
When I was a teen-ager, I told my father that I wanted to be a boss someday. I wasn't being arrogant. I know how to treat people, and I know how to get a job done. While I attend to details, I can see the big picture and plan a course of action. I think it's time for me to put my talents to work, which may mean that I need to start working for myself. I do not know what shape that may take, but I'm putting it out there.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Rainy Days and Mondays
There were thunderstorms Friday and Saturday and periods of steady rain yesterday. More rain last night and today. And it's a Monday, which means it's time to start another week.
Yesterday morning had a unique start ~ my daughter and I attended a 9:40 a.m. showing of Mamma Mia! and we loved it! The movie is a virtual feast of color, music, dancing, singing, scenery, and fun. Some critics have said it has too much singing. Really? It's a musical! Meryl Streep is fabulous. She sings, dances, and looks fantastic ~ a great role model for women my age. The movie made me want to bounce on my bed, or at the very least dance around the house to upbeat music.
I came home yesterday to Ken making cookies, which was a surprise. He said he wanted to make the house smell good. Okay by me, with a full cookie jar to boot. He can bake and cook, but he rarely does. Ken always sifts the flour so he gets different results than I do.
For two people who have been together as long as Ken and I have, I am still surprised by how differently we approach things. We come at issues and projects with different strategies and expectations. Over the years we have done our best problem solving while we were doing home improvements because we had to work together; even as disagreements arose we had to work them out or the project wouldn't get finished. I'm thinking about this now because we're at a point where we could use a good project to get some things worked out. It's not that anything is wrong. It is that things feel unsettled and uncertain.
Maybe it's me, or maybe it's him, or maybe it's us. Hopefully it will pass. In any event, today is a rainy day and a Monday, and I have plenty of inside projects to keep me busy. One foot in front of the other....
Yesterday morning had a unique start ~ my daughter and I attended a 9:40 a.m. showing of Mamma Mia! and we loved it! The movie is a virtual feast of color, music, dancing, singing, scenery, and fun. Some critics have said it has too much singing. Really? It's a musical! Meryl Streep is fabulous. She sings, dances, and looks fantastic ~ a great role model for women my age. The movie made me want to bounce on my bed, or at the very least dance around the house to upbeat music.
I came home yesterday to Ken making cookies, which was a surprise. He said he wanted to make the house smell good. Okay by me, with a full cookie jar to boot. He can bake and cook, but he rarely does. Ken always sifts the flour so he gets different results than I do.
For two people who have been together as long as Ken and I have, I am still surprised by how differently we approach things. We come at issues and projects with different strategies and expectations. Over the years we have done our best problem solving while we were doing home improvements because we had to work together; even as disagreements arose we had to work them out or the project wouldn't get finished. I'm thinking about this now because we're at a point where we could use a good project to get some things worked out. It's not that anything is wrong. It is that things feel unsettled and uncertain.
Maybe it's me, or maybe it's him, or maybe it's us. Hopefully it will pass. In any event, today is a rainy day and a Monday, and I have plenty of inside projects to keep me busy. One foot in front of the other....
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