February 2008 Archives
I can’t help myself. It’s a disease.
No wonder I eat some of this every 10 minutes. It's addictive.
I Don’t Have Time to Write This Blog.
Laine's garden in happier [read: warmer] times.
I’ve been meaning to put up a blog post for more than a week now, but I’ve been so busy working on an EL story on time and how we need more of it that I haven’t had the time. (There's a great story (not mine) on making time for vacations in the current issue of EL.)
Beyond the inherent irony here, how depressing is this? It’s sad to preach something I can’t manage to practice. More than that, even, my time crunch also makes me want to utter (in complete earnest) one of the most cliched phrases on earth: “I wish there were more hours in the day!” How did I become the cliché I preach against?
I guess the better question is: how could I have avoided it? Time shortages are a stalwart of today’s culture. It’s almost a badge of pride to continually be working. Even we who preach the importance of “making time” routinely ignore the message. “Yes, yes,” we say. “Of course we should all take vacations! And put the computer away at 5:30 pm and focus exclusively on family, or leisure, or creative pursuits! Even I’m going to do it, too.... right after I finish writing this article on why making time for our lives is important. Don’t wait up…”
To break this mold — at least for right now on this Thursday afternoon at 1:46pm — here’s a list (rather than lengthy posts) of all are the interesting things I’ve been meaning to blog about if only I had the time. Probably works out better for you, too. Who has time to read all this stuff anyway?
1. If you are sick, for goodness sake, stay home. A recent New York Times story reports on the benefits to companies, employees, and (somewhat counterintuitively) our own productivity, when we actually stay home from work when we’re sick. Well, sure, you’re thinking, isn’t that what people already do? Perhaps some of us, but not everyone. In fact, recent studies have shown an increased trend in “presenteeism,” or the insistence on showing up at work or other events no matter the degree of one’s illness. (On a sidenote that will further reveal how disconnected I am from what I write about: I am in the office today and I’m sick. What kind of crackpot am I? To my credit (if I get any at this point), I was out sick the last two days and felt better this morning, came in and then felt worse all over again. Co-workers, I’m sorry. I’m going back home when I finish this post.)
2. Good food is thrilling. I interviewed celebrity chef Nathan Lyon this week. I’ve never met someone more excited about fresh, local food. Lyon is like a human mash note to good eating. (I had a work meeting directly following our interview. While I was in the meeting taking notes on my laptop, he sent me an email with a picture of the honey lemon tea soufflés he whipped up right after we got off the phone.) A side note: he offers some really useful tips and techniques on cooking basics on the website for his Discovery Health TV show A Lyon in the Kitchen.
3. I’m going to join a CSA this year. I’m giddy at the prospect of all that fresh produce showing up at my doorstep once a week. While I was looking for a CSA in my area (find one in any area in the country through Local Harvest), I discovered that there are fresh flower CSAs, too. Fresh, organic flowers from local growers once a week at my door? Too decadent to be true! To beautiful to ignore! I have this gut feeling that I should save my money for my poor dog’s physical therapy (I have a tripod). But wouldn’t the boost to my spirits from fresh weekly flowers be so powerful that it’s worth it? These flowers look so amazing I think they would even boost the dog’s spirits.
4. February in Minnesota is brutal. Long slog of winter be gone! The picture up top is of my humble garden in the peak of summer. I have it as wallpaper on my computer during February. Only one day to go 'til March....
4b. Okay, so, for technical reasons that I don't understand, I can't get the picture of my garden to post. But in the spirit of going home before I get my coworkers sick (see item #1, above), I've decided to figure out how to post it tomorrow.
Happy Valentine’s Day
However you’re spending Valentine’s — whether you’re looking for love, with the one you love, or with your roommate, a beet veggie burger and a bottle of wine (Go, Kaeti!) — here’s some new news on love: it gets better, lasts longer and is more passionate over the long haul if you engage in novel activities together as a couple, reports Tara Parker-Pope in "Reinventing Date Night for Long-Married Couples" in The New York Times (Februrary 12, 2008).
So, tonight, give your loved ones the gift of novelty: pick a brand new restaurant and drive there via the scenic route. Or don’t go out to eat at all. Go skydiving, or karaoke-ing, or to the theater, or get out those board games you haven’t played in years. Your significant other will suddenly start seeming better than he or she already is!!
…. Unless, of course, you and your mate have different diets. Here’s another Valentine’s-relevant story, “I Love You, But You Love Meat” from The New York Times (February 13, 2008). What happens when you’re a vegan and your partner is a voracious omnivore? Writer Kate Murphy explores the intersection between long-term love and what we eat.
How did I get here?
Contented Chaos: Laine finds herself happily in the middle (and in need of a chiropractor).
The Latin phrase, in medias res means, roughly, “in the middle of things” or “ in the middle of the story.” I love the phrase because it captures the way I almost always feel — that somehow the events and progress of my life have no beginnings or endings, that they’re happening on the hidden storyboards of my life without my consciousness, until, one day, I wake up and realize I’m smack in the middle of them.
You know, it’s that feeling like: Whoa, I’m a grown up now, and I have a spouse and kids and a house and…. how did that happen? And you can never quite find a concrete answer — somehow it all just seems to have happened without your explicit knowledge or consent, somehow you were just dropped into your life in medias res?
Often this what-have-I-gotten-myself-into? scenario is played for tragicomedy: the movie protagonist wakes up one day and realizes his marriage isn’t working, he’s gone bald and his kids hate him. His only waking thought is, “Ack! How did I get here?”
And sometimes, sure, life can feel this way. Who hasn’t woken up on a Monday morning and felt the oppressive weight of another day? Job’s grown tedious. Household chores feel overwhelming. Dog ate your favorite shoes (Yes, Aidan, I’m talking to you.) (And, yes, vigorously-eye-rolling reader, I pretend my dog reads my blog.)
But the opposite happens, too. In fact, more often than not I wake up strangely comforted by the dense, complex, often conflicted yet insanely delightful middle of my life.
Because when I stop and really think hard about what I want in my life, I discover have it — a loving family, a cozy house, good health, my own washing machine, a garden plot, a warm cup of tea, an endless stack of good books, superior friends, creative pursuits, a small, warm place to bake. I feel happy and honored to be in the crazy, wonderful middle of my life. I wouldn’t choose anything else.
Sure, sometimes the middle of life is chaotic (which is the whole raison d’etre for this blog). But even the chaos seems joyful when I step back and look at my life with a wide-angle lens. I don't ask myself, "How did I get here?" I ask, "Why would I ever leave?"
I think, perhaps, the middle of our lives is the perfect place to be. Especially right now for yours truly — as I write this, I'm snarfing down Jamie's fantastic, homemade Valentine's treats (Jamie, you're endlessly talented!), listening to the best cover of a Don Henley song ever that Jen sent me (Jen, you have impeccable taste!). Who could ask for more?
I Dream (Half of) Timothy Ferriss’ Dream
When I discovered Timothy Ferriss’ new book The 4-Hour Workweek: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich (Crown, 2007), I was irrepressible. I suffer from a mild case of self-help-book skepticism, but the promise of this book was too good to be true: I want to be lazy! And rich! And live in Tuscany!
I plowed through the book. Ferriss is full of tricks for saving time and energy. To wit: hire an online virtual assistant to make your appointments and do rote personal and work-related tasks; only check email once a week; empower employees (if you have them) to make most decisions for you, freeing up your time, and train your boss (if you have one) to accept the increasingly flexible schedule you hope to keep; stop reading newspapers or taking in media all together and get your world news from friendly- and informed-seeming waiters when you go out for lunch… and on and on.
I took furious notes, imagining my forthcoming life of leisure in the Tuamotos.
But as I read I found myself reluctant to excise some of the time-wasting activities Ferriss suggests, like asking waiters for the day’s news. I actually enjoy reading the Sunday paper, giddy at the prospect of perusing the style section and taking on the challenge of trying to finish articles that don’t interest me — on baseball, say, or mutual funds. (Yeah, I know how to have a raucous good time.)
I also began to think about the satisfaction of hard work. As often as I gripe about the effort big projects can take (see my first blog entry on writing this blog), there’s a satisfaction that comes with devoting ourselves to a big or difficult job. Meaningful projects tap our deep human desire to be useful, to take pride in our efforts, to get lost in a project, to partake in something worthwhile.
Starting this blog, for example, felt challenging. Having blogged feels great. Sure, if I’d skipped writing my first entry or procrastinated and watched TV instead, I would have felt pleasure in momentary escape, but I would have short-changed myself in the long-term satisfaction and meaning department. The effort I put in (as tortured as it was in the moment) became it’s own just reward.
Of course, I would pass off doing the dishes, if I could. I'd also probably let the magic chore fairy file my taxes. Not all hard work is satisfying. Ferriss is right: some of it is just tedious.
What chores would you never do again if you could get away with it? Which ones do you secretly enjoy?
...In unrelated news, I’m currently reading Stumbling on Happiness by Harvard professor of psychology Daniel Gilbert. Look for a significantly happier me in my next entry!
Welcome to my *perfect* blog!
This is my first blog. Ever. About anything. And I’ve been feeling a lot of self-imposed pressure to do a great job — which is, frankly, making the job I do exponentially worse: I write an entry; fret over each word; overedit my prose into boring, uninspired drivel; fret again; delete the whole document; start over. It’s been 6 days.
Perfectionism is the bane of blogging.
So, it would seem, as I debut a blog about personal development and quality of life and it’s myriad components — easing stress, finding happiness, being creative, lifelong learning, learning to let go, finding that perfect spot on the couch (you know the one where you’re bathed in afternoon sunlight, a fat, lazy cat wrapped around your head) — I have some personal development of my own to work on. I need to let go, not worry so much, intentionally spell a word rong or something to give myself permission just to write.
So with that: blah blah blah and, also, blah. What’s more, yada yada yada. In conclusion, phht.
In the movie of my life that plays in my head, I’m fully self-actualized. In my life as it actually happens, I’m awash in a sea of areas to improve — and what a relief to admit it. The second I gave myself permission not to be perfect — to write a blog filled with blah and phht and not spontaneously combust of anxiety and shame — I started writing. I was getting somewhere. Embracing imperfection proved both cathartic and productive.
What tosses a monkey wrench in your best-laid plans? Fear of failure? Fear of success? Lack of inertia? A paralyzing case of perfectionism? Another Project Runway marathon? How do you de-monkey wrench your plans? What works? What doesn’t?
What other questions, perspectives and interesting detritus from your life would you like to blog about with imperfectly-blogging me?
Let me know because I’ll be writing here regularly about what is bubbling up in the culture about how we live, stay healthy and build the lives we want. Without your input, you’ll be stuck reading about whatever is on my mind, which disproportionately includes wondering what I will make for dinner and whether or not my youngest dog has fetal alcohol syndrome (see photo).
I’ll also be reading new (and some old) books and articles on everything quality-of-life related, from time management to finding happiness to stomping out perfectionism to how to talk to people at cocktail parties about books you’ve never read — and I’ll try out the theories in my own life and bring all the highlights, lowlights and just plain weird happenings here. Watch for me to be fully self-actualized in a few short months. (Just kidding — mostly).
Imperfectly,
Laine
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