Ghosts of Xmas Past

Tonight I sat in church with a ghost. Well...maybe that's a bit of stretch. Let me back up.

Tonight was communal penance service at church. When I arrived, a small group of people had already settled in. I picked up my service program, a pencil, and my slip of paper to write down my sins, then headed to "my" pew (those of you who area active in your Faith community know what I'm talking about...the favorite spot to sit week after week. And God forbid you arrive and someone else is sitting there! It throws off the mojo!).

A few minutes before the service started an elderly gentleman came and squeezed in beside me. Mind you, there were empty pews in front and behind me. But I'd left just enough room for one person, and clearly he was it. Now I'm used to seeing the same people around me week-to-week, and I honestly don't recall seeing this man before. Even for special occasions. But that's ok. I smiled up at him as he sat down and he smiled back. All good.

He didn't have all paperwork that was need and since the service was ready to begin, I nodded to him and whispered "we can share". I noticed a pretty pronounced tremor in his hands, so I tore my paper in half and handed it to him. He smiled and said "ok" in a heavy accent. Then the service began and the organ kicked in. O Come Emmanuel. The gentleman sang the first few lines, then he appeared to get lost. His voice faded and became silent. I gave him the program so he could hold it closer, just in case he couldn't see the words well. I lowered my voice an octave so we could sing together. He didn't shirk away and joined in now and again. 

We did the same through the readings and communal prayers. I started to notice his hands as he held our shared program. In addition to the tremor, I noticed his freckles. They reminded me of my dads hands. And the fact that the Gospel was the return of the Prodigal Son led my mind away from the Homily and into my own thoughts.

I realized I'd been thinking about dad a lot recently. Usually I miss mum around the holidays, but not so much this year. Dad often visited at Christmas time, so I have lots of fond memories of concerts, dinners out, Christmas crackers and trips to Myers of Keswick for my annual treat of Cornish pasties and Xmas pudding.... I've been thinking about how old dad was getting before he passed and watching him slow down.

I've also been thinking how lonely he must have been, living alone. Although very much a 'loner' the thought of dad alone on the Holidays, probably with a tin of sardines and a custard tart to keep him company left me feeling sad. 

So when this older man ended up sharing the pew with me, I felt a real tenderness towards him. He followed along with the service pretty well, but at times we seemed to move too quickly and he struggled with the reading. I wasn't sure if it was the language or his vision. It didn't matter. I found myself slowing down on the responsorials, even if it meant the two of us were ten beats behind the rest of the congregation.

Soon it was time to write down our sins and take them forward to the priest for absolution. The line was long and the organ was fantastic, so, I wasn't in a hurry. Eventually, the gentleman got up and walked towards the back of the line. About five minutes later, I too walked back to get into line. But as I looked around, I didn't see him. I thought he'd gotten in line. Perhaps he went to another priest? No. He was gone.

I actually thought that maybe I'd imagined him. Why come to a penance service, sit through the service, then leave before the penance itself? Perhaps I'd gotten so lost in my thoughts about dad that I'd conjured up this elderly man!

When I finally got back to my pew, I looked over at the empty space next to me. And there, on the floor, were two slushy footprints. He had been there! As Fr. Murphy dimmed the church lights and lit the urn where all our sins/slips of paper sat, and as the flames reached up and danced, as though the Holy Spirit itself was leading...my heart turned from melancholy to peace.

Happy Christmas, dad (and mum). You are missed.

My muse...my Moose. Wherefore art thou?

Some of you (ok...a lot of you) know that last year, while still at BBBSA, I had an intern join me in my work. Holly Moose was a true find! Many of you have worked with interns and know how it can be hit or miss.


But not Holly! She was all about the work!  She inspired and challenged us.  Granted, there was the occasional misstep, like the time she was put in charge of one of the CEO's nationwide calls and half the country couldn't dial in for about 20 minutes.  She claimed the need for 'accommodation' because her hoofs interfered with her ability to dial "all those numbers".  We, of course, complied.

There was also the time she had to be written up for sneaking into Sue's office at night and eating her walnuts ( some excuse about dietary needs, that were certainly of no concern to Sue and I!) Again, Holly claimed that the work environment was not meeting her needs, so we gave her access to the nuts and to a few plants around the office.  We learned to value Holly's differences and the ways in which they made all of us better humans.

Regrettably, shortly after Holly joined us, she was kidnapped.  Rumor had it that employees who had been 'released' the year previously were involved.  The entire incident resulted in a slew of ransom notes and threats which only served to slow me down on my real work.   


Standards deliverables had to be delayed by an entire quarter while I struggled to negotiate with Moose-nappers and do my job.  While the 'nappers'(as Holly likes to call them) were never identified, rumor is that the Mossad was involved (or was that the Moose-ad?), possibly in some effort to eliminate non-Kosher meats.   HR provided her with the number to EPA...EAP...?... services for help with PTKS (Post-Traumatic-Kidnapping-Syndrome).  But my respect and admiration for Holly grew ten-fold.  What she endured to be able to continue working with us!

Through it all, Holly prevailed. Once returned to BBBSA, Holly jumped right back into the CEO chair, nibbling on walnuts and single-hoofidly finished all the samples, templates, tools, and coordinated the webinars around Standards. Holly turned out to be amazing!

 Then I left BBBSA. And while my colleagues were professional and polite about my decision, it was Holly who was top of mind for them. When I drove into Philly on my final day to take all my nic-nacs home, Holly was no where to be found. Not in her cubicle, not in the kitchen sniffing for garbage, not in Charles's office, playing CEO.

I arrived in Denver at the National Conference only to be confronted by Holly's union Rep (when did that happen?) Apparently Holly no longer wanted to intern with me.  Not at BBBSA.  Not at my new job.  "Never ever," was how her Rep delivered the news to me.  Some nonsense about how I created an unsafe work environment, failed to meet her needs, made her do all my work - nonsense!

Imagine my disappointment and bitterness.  Nearly 9 months of work together and this is how she felt!  But it wasn't over.  Oh, no. 

To my amazement, I learn that Holly had negotiated to stay at BBBSA and intern with her new BNAMFF (Best-not-a-Moose-Friend-Forever), Sue!  And what's more - she wanted to work on the new project - AIM360 with "those nice girls".  


Apparently, while I thought Holly was off making copies and filing, she was off cozying up to the AIM360 team!

So now Holly Moose is preparing for a new adventure.  Despite rules against moose-ization with Moose interns and staff, Sue has managed to break the rules and has started 'girl weekends' with Holly!  Last weekend it was mani-pedi's, a new skirt and clogs for Holly:  her new life is getting ready to begin.  I am left to seek solace in reflecting back on all I have learned from Holly; all the ways I have grown; all the warm memories I take with me.  The definition of Muse is "to gaze meditatively on, be astonished".  Holly Moose you have truly been my muse.

 

L'Shana Tovah

(Note - written at the start of Rosh Hashana.) One of the things I often puzzle about is what % of my sense of being "too busy" is real and what % is just my own perception of being "too busy".  It's easy to stuff ones brain full of 'work,' leaving too little time to reflect, to sing, to dream, to day dream, to hum, to be at peace with one's self.

This all came to mind this week when I got on the train Thursday morning.  Instead of being 2-3 people deep on the subway platform, there was no one around.  "I must have just missed a train," I thought to myself as I turned up my music and waited for the next train.  But the next train arrived about three minutes later and to my happiness, there were multiple seats available!

Four stops later, I switch to the "A" train and the same thing happens - an empty platform and empty seats.  Swe-e-e-e-e-eT!  I arrive at Fulton Street and start the hike upstairs, sans the massive crowds.  Now I'm beginning to wonder.  I know public schools aren't back in session, but parochial schools are, so, in theory, there should be more people on the train.  Hmmmmm.  I decide it's the last chance for families to get away before school starts on Monday, so everyone must have gone on vacation!

Four hours later, I get it.  It's the Jewish Holiday!  I'm in New York City.  Folks are at shul - not work!  Remembering, reflecting.  Standing still in the chaos of life.  I'm so "busy" in my own mind that I missed it.  There's a lesson here.

Letrs frum en inturn

Hay it's mey.  Holly. I snuked in too Sandeeyz spot too riyt u. Wayt. Let mes put spel chyk on. Ok. That's better. I'm worried about Sandy. I think something ate her. It may be happening to Sue, too. It all has to do with meetings. I think Sandy went to one and never came back. She used to say how meetings were eating into her time.  I think they may have swallowed her whole!

Slowly people around here are disappearing.  They say, "I'm going downstairs to a meeting," or "I'll be right back.  I have a meeting."  And then they're gone.  It gets quieter and quieter.  Not that I mind.  Moose like solitary spaces.  But occasionally I hear sobbing.  I'm worried.

My new boss-ess, Sue (she tells me to call her "Goddess," but I'm not convinced) might be getting eaten, but really, really slowly.  She'll come to work in the morning all happy and cheerful, singing a little, occasionally twirling and clapping (it makes me dizzy to watch).  She's all about getting things done - "focus, focus, focus," she says to me in that happy, smiley voice.

But soon she's get quiet and stop moving.  She'll sit at her desk, looking at the light box and start talking to herself.  Then she'll turn to me and say, "Ok, Holly.  I have to go to a meeting now.  Wish me luck".  When she comes back, it's like something has happened.  She's talking to herself.   She's  She keeps saying "I can't stand it.  This is painful".  She sits at her desk rubbing her head saying, "I don't get it.  I just don't get it."   It's like her brain is being eaten.  And then she'll look at me and say, "Who the hell are you and what are you looking at?!"  And I try not to have eye contact except that my eyes are glued open and in one direction, so it's really hard.

And then there's the memory thing.  Boss-ess Sue will come back from one of those meeting things and she can't remember very good!  She walks around, and around, and around in her office,  muttering...and then she'll look at me and say, "Holly!  Where did I put ______?"  Or, "Holly!  Have you seen ________?"  Yesterday she wanted me to tell her where her car keys were!  Doesn't she know that cars are Moose Death Machines?  Clearly she needs some sensitivity training!!    But that man has disappeared, too.

Whatever this meeting thing is, it's effecting behavior.  It makes people mean.  I thought when I was kidnapped that maybe it was just an accident.  But then it happened a second time.  And everyone just laughed.  I thought this was a place that cared and wanted to "make a difference"?

I think these "meeting" things are slowly killing people here.  At the very least, based on Sue, I think they're eating people's brains.  And I don't know what to do.  I hope I don't have to go to any meetings.  Ever. 

Walking Home Backwards

...er...not literally (if I did that, you'd probably be sending me 'Get Well' cards right about now!)

This was my first full week of taking the "A" train to and from work, thanks to the "R" train tunnel being closed.  You all remember the "A" train, don't you - http://youtu.be/bHRbEhLj540 - or are you all too young  :>)  How about "New York, New York a wonderful town...the Bronx is up and Battery is down"?  http://youtu.be/x7CIgWZTdgw

But I digress!  The result of my subway train was that at the end of the day, I had to walk back the way I came in the morning. Until now, I'd only taken the "A"train to work - never home.  Now, you may not think that's any big deal.  But when you're in lower Manhattan, 2 blocks from the "Canyon of Hero's" it is a rich experience.  And slightly disorienting, as well! Think of it, all yea suburban dwellers! How many of you park in the same spot at the mall every time (over by Sears, where there's one of only 4 trees,to allow my car some shade).  There's a reason we are creatures of habit!

I suppose this is just another way life has turned direction for me. In so many ways my life today is like I've turned around and headed in the opposite direction.  And getting my bearings is not easy!

 

Yes, I'm still working in the mentoring world and, yes, youth development is still my focus. But perspective has a lot to do with how we manage change. As familiar as the work is, turn me around, introduce new process, tools to manage the process, systems to manage the tools and the process...well...it's a bit disorienting.   Which, in turn, is scary.  Perhaps, then, the greatest challenge is in how we cope.

The first few days of my journey in reverse were disorienting. Made worse by the fact that I work in a part of town that consists of named streets and not numbered ones, I kept getting a sense I was going in the wrong direction. Surrounded by unfamiliar landmarks and a bunch of buildings either under construction or being repaired following Storm Sandy, uptown and downtown weren't clear to me anymore. I had to remind myself that I was smarter than I was feeling and that if I just tried to change my frame of reference, I'd be ok.

I took two approaches to coping: I held on to my common sense (if the street was running downhill, it was most likely heading toward a river), and I put on my best Lewis and Clark impression and approached it all like an adventure. After all, what was the worst that could happen? I walk a few blocks out of my way?

Which, of course, did happen. And, as a result, I discovered a route that cut at least 2 blocks of my walk; 2 post offices en route (how handy is that?); 2 dollar stores (keep in mind, I work 3 blocks from the NY Stock Exchange!); and a Church (with those 15 minute mini-services that city churches in business areas seem to have).   Before I knew it, what started out as an anxious time has now become a journey of discovery - Henry Hudson, move over!

So for my friends who aren't city dwellers, next time you're at the mall or the grocery store, try 'walking backwards' for a different perspective. See what you discover that you may not have noticed before. Name your favorite explorer and head-off in a new direction! Approach it with eyes open, courage and curiosity.  Journey on!

Reflections on Playfulness

Becca gave me a book when I left BBBSA:  "Why Normal Isn't Healthy" by Bowen E. White, MD.  Aside from the obvious 'what did she mean by this.' thoughts I had when I received it, followed by the 'I'll read this when I get a chance' plan I made when one gets a book about which they are circumspect, I did maintain an iota of curiosity.  Thank God.  In reading the book, I think that may be what's keeping me alive (my curiosity, not the book!)  
But seriously...it has made me think.  Pages 181-182 in the chapter entitled "Playfulness" (any wonder I started with that chapter?) got my mind and heart going:

"I'm not here to compete with other people.  I'm here to compete with me.  I'm here to do what I can do to move on with my life developmentally, to unfold my potential in the service of others, not to put someone else down to feel better.  Somebody else doesn't have to lose for me to win.

What will happen to the planet if we continue to compete and see things as "us" and "them"?

At some point, we have to recognize the value of collaboration.  We all have good brains, but they're small brains.  If we put out brains together, we have a bigger brain.  When we get the bigger brain working on things, creatively, it will be amazing what we come up with.  When we create environments where people use their collective big brains to problem-solve, better solutions abound."

Or, as the great philosopher Winnie the Pooh would say:

People who don't think probably don't have brains; rather, they have grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake.

Ok - so what's my point, you ask?  Well, I have a couple of thoughts.  One is about where I've been (my old job) and the other is about where I am (the new job), and why my angst has followed me from one to the other.  Of course, I blamed everything on the old job.  Why not?  Work is the central point of life, is it not?  (That's a test, folks!)

Where I sit today in my reflection is that as high a road as I might think I take sometimes, I am human.  And I'm a Leo.  And I like to win.  And as hard as I try to be in service to others, and fair, and collaborative, I am still competitive.  I like to be liked.  I want to be great.  I don't tolerate my own mistakes very well.

So I left an environment where I felt pulled down by the "us" versus "them" debate:  where someone does have to lose in order to win.  An environment where we couldn't collaborate to be better without putting down everyone and everything that came before us.

And now I am in a new space.  Where I can start fresh.  And yet, I've sunk right back into an "us" versus "them":  what was and used to be, versus what is and can be.  I am competing against a past I don't know or was part of.  And every day I feel my creativity, my playfulness, my 'Spark' fading.  Fast.  My dreams are dark and full of loss, death, sadness, worry.  My humor comes like hiccups:  it lasts too long once it starts, but it appears infrequently.  Much of this I do to myself by being afraid on not being 'good enough'.  I am an active participant in creating an "us" versus "them" environment in an effort to make myself feel better.  At the same time I'm trying to build a team, a sense of cohesiveness, an environment where we share a common goal and passion for the work. 

And everyday I feel more like a human bottle of oil and vinegar.  Separated.

So what does Dr.  White say?  I need to collaborate.  I need to "watch myself, pay attention, let the observer effect come into play.  With awareness I can go for win-win....I have a small brain.  You have a small brain....When we put two small but good brains together, the result is a bigger brain.  The effect can be more than additive; it can be synergistic.  One plus one equals three."

Collaboration does something else.  It makes us more vulnerable.  We have to let go of some of our control to open ourselves up to what others have to share.  Ugh.  It can get so messy in that space. 

And yet, play - good, hard, fun play - is messy.  There are board games with rules and directions, and there are mud pies and forts built out of boxes.  There are beginning lines and finish lines, and there are hours of time lost in imagination. 

As much as I like things organized, and color-coded, and neat (with accompanying rules and directions), my joy is in creating.  In the messiness of a white board gone mad.  In the sloppiness of scribbles on a note pad that has no title or notebook to live in.  In a space where the people around me share ideas that make no sense and are hard to understand because they are unfamiliar and new. 

I love to play.  And when I hide my playfulness it's like putting my heart in a box. 

So I have to find my noncompetitive play.  I need to understand that while I learn my new job, I have to collaborate.  I have to let go of the need for control.  I have to stop focusing on winning and "me" versus "them".  I need to respect everyone's brains for what they are, not for what I want them to be.

"...play in general is important because as animal brain size increases, the amount that animal play increases."  Time to vacuum out the fluff and exercise my playfulness

 

 

Seeking Direction

One of the bestest little something's I got in my "farewell" package from my BBBS colleagues was a compass.  Just a tiny one that clips to my key chain.  Nothing fancy - but it works!

Needless to say, but returning to work in NYC after an absence of 12 years has proven to be an adventure.  Since I last commuted daily via the NYC subway system, they have added several new train lines and re-routed several more.  I was quickly thrown into the reality of my situation when I awoke Monday morning to hear the traffic lady on channel 2 announce that the "R" train was not running due to signal issues.  I was not prepared with an alternate route; just a vague recollection that the "A" train stopped a bit north of where my office is.

So off I go, making the transfer to the "A" train and riding the two stops to Fulton Street.  I sweated on the platform, then smushed myself into an "A" train, anxious for the cold air conditioning to blow dry the sweat that was dripping off my forehead unto the front of my shirt, making me look like I had slow leaks in my chest.  Five minutes later I'm caught up in the flow of exiting bodies unto the platform.  And at that point I realized I was lost.  Well...I did know I had to head up (anything for fresh air!). One flight.  Two flights.  Three flights.  Now what?  I didn't even know which direction I was heading - and was still about 60 ft. underground!

Now I suppose you expect me to tell you how I pulled out the little compass, found south (the direction of my office), and started wandering the underground corridors until I found the southern-most exit.  I should have.  I thought about it.  But it meant stopping in the midst of the rushing flow of bodies, all of whom knew where they were going.  Not cool. 

So I turned to my internal compass. You know what I mean.  You feel it.  You take a deep breath, maybe mutter a couple of words, then go forward, mustering up your courage and belief in yourself.  Hey - what's the worst that could happen?  I emerge from a hole in the ground that isn't where I wanted to be? I have to walk an extra block or two?  I have to re-trace my steps?  Eh.  So is life.  The person who's going to care the most is me.  Rarely is someone following so closely that your confusion gets in their way.  Besides - I might discover a thing or two if I get a little lost!

Well, the ending is a happy one.  I found the southern most exit in Fulton Street (note to self, it's only open 6am to 6pm, so do not try this maneuver at the end of the day!).  And, as I meandered the caverns of the Wall Street area, I discovered my bank, two good salad places, an awesome sandwich shop, the post office, a clothing store, a grocery store (very rare in the city!), and even a 7-11!

I still love my little compass.  It's comforting to know it's with me.  But it's also good for me to take a chance, trust myself, push myself, and seek my own way.

Transitions

My glasses arrived this week: titanium! I feel like I should have Super Powers wearing them! While waiting to get my glasses fitted, I observed a young man of 12 or 13 ordering frames with his mom. He was the poster child for adolescent angst: The unwashed hair, pimply face, mumbled response to anyone who spoke to him. Couple all of that with the classic 'go-to-hell' stare and it made for fascinating people watching.

As we sat side-by-side, the saleswoman asked my turmultuous teen if he wanted "transitions" lenses. He responded with a death stare directed towards his mother, then shrugged and looked down. I found myself saying "no" in my head. "Don't go for the transitions! They're full of feelings and will only add to your angst!"

This has been a period in my life in which 'transitions' have taken precedence on so many levels: work, friendships, time. While transitions can be positive in the long run, they do take some work to adjust to. They involve all sorts of changes and often make ones view of the world different.

Transitions can bring reality into focus. They expose life around you with a clarity that may have gotten blurred with the day-to-day pace of living. Anytime you have to look at reality in the face, it's a tad unnerving!

Transitions often bring beginnings, which means some separations have to occur. Ugh. It means pulling up anchor and sailing on without complete certainty that one even knows where they're going.
Transitions lead to feelings one wishes they could avoid, yet feels like such a blessing when they're standing in front of you, embracing you, making you feel human. ...My glasses fit perfectly and are as light as a feather. Oh...and the "Transitions" lenses work like a charm!