Friday, March 01, 2024

Middle Management in America

What a tough day. I manage a Division of about 30 people in 4 teams. One of our younger team members -- a really good and smart person -- let me know he's taken another job. Another of our newer team members let me know he'd like to change teams because he feels the relationship with his manager has suffered irreparable harm. Another senior team member called to share his frustration with another dynamic that's been troubling in the past year and has flared up again. A person from a different department met with me to say that the way we've set up a certain requirement that obligates his team to work with outside groups has led to them being abused and seen as the "hand of injustice" (take that, Adam Smith!). 

I took lunch to one of our team leaders, who was losing her young team member, to check in and make sure she wasn't taking it too hard. She was. We talked about it and around it and scratched our heads, shook our fists, said lots of things that boiled down to "these pesky kids! what do they want these days? all these unreasonable expectations for expertise within months, promotions in a couple years, and absolutely no boredom or discomfort or challenge, all while knowing exactly what they're supposed to be doing and getting thanked and petted all the f#^$&%*ng time."

And then I had coffee with my college mentor, who gave me the tough love and broke the hard news that none of this is new, none of it is solvable, and yeah, middle management is the worst. 

And as I was driving home, another colleague let me know she just gave her 2 week notice, leaving me with one more broken link to a department that I desperately need in order to succeed at my job. 

What a day. 

I tried medicating with songs of loss and angst but had no patience with wallowing. Instead, I pulled up my meditation app and leaped at the title "Letting go of unwanted feelings." Listened to it twice. Tried to release my fear and heaviness to the powers of renewal and healing that we call by many names. After all, much of this is not mine to fix. My little control freak self would love to take it all on, even as it seems insurmountable and intractable. 

What I want for the world is for people to get better at 2 things:

  1. Setting boundaries, keeping them, telling others when they cross one, and requesting that someone do better to respect them going forward.
  2. Hear feedback, take it in, apologize, repair, and do better going forward. 
As a young person, the world seemed very black and white, and it seemed possible and even necessary in order to be a good person to never hurt anyone, that you could do better and better until you never made any mistakes, or at least none that affected other people. 

Now, I think growth is almost entirely related to learning curves associated with failures big and small. I've heard this called your "growing edge." That resonates with me. 

Brene Brown says, "Clear is kind." And others say nice is often not kind. I say, "Feedback is kind." And taking in feedback is both kind and wise and all-too-rare these days. After all, we are very aware that people are not perfect, but we seemed outraged when anyone bothers us in any way. Why didn't they know better not to do that? And why do we have to tell them? Shouldn't they already know? How could they not know?

My son, 11, and on the autism spectrum, has learned that it is an unreasonable expectation to think that other people know what's in his mind if he doesn't say it out loud. 

My daughter, 14, and one of the most emotional intelligent people I've encountered, is learning that she cannot expect anyone to stand up for her, that she must stand up for herself like she does for her friends without blinking an eye. 

I am hopeful that I am raising people who will be able to manage conflict at work, and at home. 

In the meantime, I am looking around at the ashes from multiple fires today and wondering - what is my role in all of this? How does this get better? What can I do, and if there's nothing, what will I do?

The leverage from the middle feels laughable. 

Sunday, February 18, 2024

Jet (poem) by Tony Hoagland

and it is good, a way of letting life
out of the box, uncapping the bottle
to let the effervescence gush
through the narrow, usually constricted neck.

Everything is Going to be All Right (Poem) by Derek Mahon

Derek Mahon, from Selected Poems

How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.


Day Off

 Presidents' Day weekend. House is clean. Tennis lesson done. Travel planned for this summer's half-marathon in the Grand Tetons. A run, then yoga today. 

So tomorrow can be an honest to goodness day off. Yoga in the morning, pickle ball, drop-in tennis in the evening. And maybe some puzzle. Maybe some shopping. Maybe a church task or two. 

The feeling of well-being is overwhelming. So few shoulds that it's a miracle. I am so grateful. So full of gratitude!

Sunday, February 04, 2024

"In the Moment" (poem) by Lynn Ungar


You've probably heard
the central rule of improv:
Say yes... and.
Yes, we are on a desert island...
and I am a shark.
Yes, we are playing in the World Series...
and I will use this hot dog as a bat.
It's an excellent way to talk with those
who have wandered into dementia:
Yes, OK, I'm your mother.
Can I sing you a lullaby?

Improv is the core of jazz.
Bach may have set music's
rules of the road, but he
was one crazy improvisational driver.
Look, I get this isn't
the plot you chose, and everything
has gone off script.
Isn't that just the way of it?
Play the scene you're in.
Shift the plot. Tell me
where we can go together.

What you can control...

 I'm feeling buoyed by the positive changes that I've been able to imagine, set intentions to accomplish, set steps to put in place, and keep choosing and following through again and again.

And if that can happen in some areas of my life, suddenly I assume that's true of all aspects. 

So it is somewhat startling and deeply frustrating the ways that I cannot gain traction in changes that are important and potentially life-improving. 

I am happily going to yoga almost every day, yet I cannot seem to manage to go running once a week. 

I have given up cream and sugar in my morning coffee, but I cannot not eat 3-5 desserts per night. 

I use my meditation app every morning, but I still find myself a stress case in most other circumstances throughout the day. 

I sing to my kiddo every night before bed, but I keep choosing Youtube videos before bed instead of my library books on kindle (tick tock...). 

Probably dwelling more on the wins and less on the disappointments would bring more happiness and more successful change. 

As a human, I'm primed to focus on the negative and the "problems" to be solved. As a spiritual being,  I practice gratitude and celebration. Begin again, begin again... 

Sunday, January 28, 2024

"The Next Noel" (poem) by Lynn Ungar

I don’t know what a noel is,
Except that it’s something
That angels say, and the first time
They said it, was to shepherds
Who were out laying in fields.
But the next noel, couldn’t it
Have been to anyone –
The barkeep handing drinks
Or the woman easing off her shoes
As she comes in the door?
Behold! The angel says, as in
Pay attention! Look what is happening!
And then, I bring you tidings
Of great joy. I don’t know
Who got the second noel.
Maybe the wise men. Maybe not.
But if there was a first noel,
They might have just kept coming –
Angels popping up where you least
Expect them, demanding that you take notice,
Insisting, through every battered age,
That you listen to tidings of great joy.

Quote - Larry Levis - "My Story in a Late Style of Fire"

"It is so American, fire. So like us.
Its desolation. And its eventual, brief triumph."

Quote - Gaston Bachelard - The Psychoanalysis of Fire

"Fire is the ultra-living element. It is intimate and it is universal. It lives in our heart. It lives in the sky. It rises from the depths of the substance and offers itself with the warmth of love. Or it can go back down into the substance and hide there, latent and pent-up, like hate and vengeance. Among all phenomena, it is really the only one to which there can be so definitely attributed the opposing values of good and evil. It shines in Paradise. It burns in Hell. It is gentleness and torture. It is cookery and it is apocalypse."

"An Avowal" (poem) by Denise Levertov

As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.

This poem is from Oblique Prayers, copyright ©1984 by Denise Levertov, and also appears in Levertov’s The Stream and the Sapphire: Selected Poems on Religious Themes

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Circle of Life

I did a good job in the past couple years reaching back, reaching out, to key people in my past. I didn't realize how much that also meant re-opening closed chapters in my life, and finding there, not cringing regret and harsh recriminations for all the ways I failed to be my best self, but memories of the ways I tried to stretch in different directions. 

Being a parent, I've learned, provides many magical moments to confront past selves. Music is a doorway to the past; Umea has discovered Simon & Garfunkle, Kenny Rogers. She does not seem to mind my reminiscences of the past selves who loved the songs she's falling in love with. (And I realize I may be especially blessed with a kid who is not (yet?) focused on pushing away to differentiate herself.)

And clothes, too. When she steals a sweatshirt that's 20+ years old, I am remembering who bought it for me, or who I dated when I wore it first. How can she want to wear the same item? A rhyming across time. 

We went shoe shopping, and as she tried on Birkenstocks, I texted my best friend in high school, since in my memory, we walked everywhere in Birkenstocks. She said yes, her son, too, asked for his first pair of Birkenstocks the summer before, and yes, how strange and right and resonant. 

This also, of course, is true of books. Certainly when she was little, I crammed her little brain with my favorite childhood books -- Anne of Green Gables, first and foremost. And now she shares a few of my favorites in adulthood -- Miracle Life of Edgar Mint, most miraculously. 

I think you could have these same moments of resonance if you were really good about sharing your inner life with a close friend. (I'm thinking of a podcast [This American Life, Plan B, Act Two], where a young woman described trying to "download" her past into a new friend's brain - making her mixed-tapes of important songs, narrating past relationship stories onto tapes, providing a list of favorite books...)

But having kids, who are exploring themselves, partly through exploring what they have in common -- or not -- with their parents, is an especially organic unfolding of moments and moments and moments where the past opens up and offers a chance to see and feel how much I have in common with past selves -- or not.

And pairing that with friends who loved me when I was those past selves takes things deeper. It's partly triangulation -- do their memories, or their continued love, confirm my experience? My existence? Do I, can I, still love who they loved? Who they love? Are those the same? (Oh god, what is time? What is life? What is perspective across time?)

And I remember, I try to remember, there is nothing to be done. There is everything to feel, and accept, and learn. And celebrate. And feel gratitude. So much gratitude for this miracle of life unfolding -- out and in.

When all seems dark, what can you do to let the light in?

Breathe.

Feel grateful for blessings.

Move. Stretch. Feel grounded and stretch to the sky.

Meditate on the miracle of a spark of my perspective and life in the vastness of the universe.

Reach out to wisdom from others.

Slow down. Notice that you can only live moment by moment. (Nothing to be done, nothing else, nothing other. One moment only.)

Go deeper.

Shine. 


 

Sunday, January 07, 2024

What's your burden?

The question today at church. And an offer: Can you lay it down for a minute? 10 minutes? An hour? For days or weeks or months at a time?

Today, I'm thinking about cholesterol and eating - all the ways I feel out of control when confronted by cookies, chocolate, hawaiian rolls...

What does it really mean to be addicted to sugar, to gluten?

A Kenny Loggins self-help book from the late 1990s said (oh lord, wisdom from Kenny Loggins? Sure. Why not? Take it where you can get it!): "Where there is no hole, there's nothing to fill."

What hole am I filling with sweets? With butter?

I'm picturing a gingerbread house, pre-construction, and me sealing up the seams with frosting. 

I suspect more play will help. More yoga. More tennis. Maybe learning pickle ball? Snowshoeing? And puzzles. (So grateful for a puzzle exchange at church! I brought back about 10, leaving with 5...)

And if that doesn't help, I'll have to go deeper. Pretty sure I'm doing everything I can, eating all I can, not to do that. 


Wednesday, December 06, 2023

Blue Christmas

 Now it's December, and I'm still struggling with dark spirits.


Atheist Christmas Carol



Me to the season: Don't forget, I love, I love you.

I am sadness and joy and stress and resilience. All are part of the tapestry of my experience. So be it. So may it be. 

Prayer to myself: May I be brave. May I welcome the connection and light that waits for me if I open the door to them.