September 5, 2009
The week passed in a blur of 8 hour work days and quality time in my kitchen. I don't think I've ever baked that much in such a short amount of time, but I truly enjoyed every minute of it. As a friend hovered in the doorway and watched me flutter between cookies in the oven, dinner on the stove and ingredients mingling in a bowl on the counter I explained my belief - perhaps misguided - that baking is love. I see much more to it than the smiles when the final offering is given. I also see the expenditure of time behind it that says, "You were worth a few of my hours, even if you didn't know you were getting them." I love how simple things can brighten a face and warm a heart.
But today my heart is somewhat sad. Yesterday afternoon's conversations with some of the guys on my teams has had tremendous impact and I'm again left wishing they'd given my job to somebody more experienced who knew how to handle these difficult situations. I see errors and misunderstandings and wrong behaviour on all sides. I see people trying to do the best they know how while chastising each other for it because they cannot recognize what the others are giving as such or do not deem it acceptable. They all want success....and suddenly in writing that statement I begin to see some of the problem.
Friday was an important step. I didn't expect the opening up I received, but I was grateful to have it. I learned. I listened. I hope I showed that I care about what happens to this group and that I'm ready to step up to some of the responsibilities I simply wasn't ready to tackle until now. There could be no chance of success without it.
When the party dwindled to two - a former close friend and I - I realized my prayer that morning for an opportunity to really talk with him had been answered. He told me as we left that the conversation had given him hope; that if he and I could find a way past the differences we've had, reconciliation elsewhere in the group had to be possible. I have hope also, but not because of anything he or I did that evening. I was given an undeniable reminder that God listens and responds. As long as I keep leaning on him, everything will resolve as it should.
I also listened and recognized the need for far more wisdom than I actually have. I resolved to spend my weekend in search of it and continued to believe the entire situation was surmountable. Then I returned home, made one last check of my email before bed, and discovered another string of dominoes on the project falling down. I was unhappy to see it, but I didn't worry or get angry. I didn't let my optimism from the afternoon falter. I simply resolved to think more, pray harder, and act when I was sure of the direction to take.
So while my heart is sad for the present state, it remains sure of better ahead. I think it's something everybody desires but is a destination they do not know how to reach. And somehow I have to lead them there; difficult a task as I recognize it to be and as ill-equipped as I currently am to carry it out. It's a shame not everything can be solved by a batch of cookies.
Captured At: 931
September 9, 2009
Learning the Steps
Sometimes there comes an instant when you realize, despite the best of your optimism, that you are in a far more precarious position than you had wanted to believe. For me it came in a moment of darkness walking between car and apartment Monday night as I took one of my frequent glances toward the heavens. I knew everything I had to be able to do the next day in general terms, but I had no idea how to actually accomplish it. A few things seemed fairly straight forward; others were complete wildcards.My mentor would later tell me he knew something was wrong when I appeared in the office shortly after 7am. He didn't envy me the day - and likely the week - I had ahead of me. As has happened often these past six months he was short on advice, but for once I wasn't actually seeking it. I had spent enough of the weekend thinking and praying and reflecting. I had gone to bed the night before and driven in that morning absorbing every ounce of strength the cosmos would provide. I was built up, firm in my beliefs and purpose, and certain that my quest for truth and right would be successful. There was nothing he could offer me that God hadn't already provided.
The day came with disappointments, successes and moments infinitely easier than I could have imagined. I was pleased with the attitude I'd been able to maintain throughout and the compassion I was able to extend even to those with whom I strongly disagreed. The path I was attempting to walk was right and nobody argued with it; not even those who caused the explosions in the first place. Corrections were clearly still needed, but I had no interest in hastily crafting a solution.
I don't know where it came from or why, but I suddenly knew and accepted my role in a way I hadn't done before. "Leader" and "manager" weren't actually synonymous even though they were often used that way. Managers suddenly seemed more passive. They watched and poked and checked off boxes to keep things moving down a set path. Leaders created and redefined paths. They challenged what was and had been to find new answers to nagging problems. A person could be both, but neither job required the presence of both skill sets. The person who had been trying to work the issues before they ballooned into the crisis at hand was a fine manager, but they hadn't been acting as a leader. Maybe the absence of that behaviour - for whatever reason it occurred - had been part of the problem and was why I now had to step in.
I remain realistic about where I actually am and how far I have yet to go, but I also see how much I'm being challenged to learn what it is I'm capable of. I've felt different in this job these past two days than I have at any other moment of the past 6.5 months. I'm closer to what I need to be and, in being there, I'm closer to what it is I'm supposed to become to best serve out my time here.
The comments about the enjoyment others are deriving from watching me grow further gives me confidence. In turn, the confidence is what enables the growth. It's a rather strange dance the two are engaged in. I have no idea which partner took to the floor first and I assume there will be several missteps to come. Still, I hope the music doesn't stop anytime soon.
Captured At:2248
September 20, 2009
Somewhere in the past few days my mind began a tumble backward. I think I was initially struck on the flight home from Phoenix. A few notes through the iPod brought the missing and the not missing to light. The first was a complete surprise; the second I should have expected. Here, almost three days later, there remains a sadness and a comfort to wherever it is I've settled into; a fulfilled emptiness I don't think I could bring another soul into if I tried.
The truth is I'm a bit hung up at the moment. I dearly want to reach into my mind for something to offer and yet can only come up empty. All of the things I began writing in my head as I executed my chores seem to have vanished.
Bur rather than struggle through words I'm not certain I have, rather than dismiss the words that have appeared as unimportant, I'll share a few paragraphs that are as real as they come this evening. I miss having things to write about and people to write to. I miss many things I'll never get back and I begin to fear that these moments at my keyboard will soon be another - one more piece of myself slowly eroding beneath an unsatisfactory life.
Or so it feels today, this week, in the face of all I'm thinking and feeling and wishing I could hide from. I know better of course, but knowledge doesn't always match the booming voice emotions are. It seems to wait patiently for the yelling to die down before speaking its piece and reiterating the truth. Sometimes, though, I'm not even sure what the truth is.
I refuse to believe this is how the story ends. Was it really all for nothing?
Captured At:2250
September 21, 2009
Ridin' My Decision Home
There was part of me that hoped for a feeling of release when all was said and done. I didn't like what I had to do and was told it never really gets easier but, as was once less than eloquently pointed out to me, the first time you do something is the first time you do something. I walked out of the meeting feeling miserable yet could only shrug and comment that it was clearly a skill set I was going to need in the future."Yes, but you shouldn't have had to deal with it this early."
"I seem to deal with a lot of things earlier than I'm supposed to." I wish my reply had been an exaggeration.
I left the office for the day realizing that upon my return in the morning things would be different. One member of my team would be gone and the only thing to spare me the worst of the initial aftermath would be an early dentist appointment I was suddenly grateful to have. At some point, though, the wrath would come upon me; a manifestation of a deep hurt that nothing seemed to mend. It would just be a matter of time.
As I drove south with the weight of my choices on my shoulders it dawned on me how many times I'd done something similar this year. I thought of the flight after I said a final farewell to the last of my good friends and the drive home after I botched my attempt at closure with the one person I'd loved and failed more than any other. I thought of those miles to finish up tasks at the office instead of going out or to bring home new attire because a funeral was believed to be imminent. I felt the drain of every battle I'd stood my ground to fight, trying best as I knew how to get my feet under me so I could hope to do a job I was completely unprepared for.
But all of those things were in the past, some gathering dust faster than the others. I didn't feel much stronger for any of them, yet I had to accept the strength inherent in mere survival and the courage required to keep stepping forward when very little in me wanted to.
This latest challenge, though? In some ways it felt more about somebody else's life than mine. Sure some of this year's choices affected others, but not their livelihood as this difficult step had. While I hadn't pushed for somebody to be unemployed, I did make sure they were sent elsewhere after years slogging through the unpleasant experience this project had been for them. It would seem like a favor if we weren't two months away from finishing, but I just couldn't let things continue as they had. What sort of leader would I have been to turn a blind eye after so much wrong?
Doing the right thing doesn't always feel good in the short term. Sometimes it doesn't even feel good in the long term, but ultimately I believe that choice for pain in the name of right does matter. I have to. What reason would there be to keep going if the struggles were for naught?
A lovely sun and a soft sky led me home, but they couldn't quite quiet my mind. They couldn't take the weight out of my head or convince me that the next day would be a bit easier. I knew better. And perhaps it is for that reason that I attached to the one silly thing the day chose to bring me courtesy of the best brother I could ask for. These days I take my wins where I can get them. I hope the call I had to make ultimately leads to one more and we can all begin to heal.
Captured At:2141
September 25, 2009
I wondered if - and secretly hoped - that someday that "expert" standing up there would be me.
The desire seems an incredible contradiction to this person who claims she doesn't want the spotlight and doesn't like calling attention to herself, but I don't have to dig far to see how it also fits. The high value I have always placed on intelligence feeds in, as does the truth that even as a child I delighted in being able to share knowledge with others. Yet back on the contradiction side public speaking remains an act I continue to dislike greatly.
This year I didn't have a paper submitted for the conference. I wasn't even entirely sure why I was going out for a day save for tradition and to keep the forum's participation up. Then we looked at the schedule to plan our visit and everything changed. Somebody had made me a panelist and neglected to tell me. My response at the news was an understandable - and apparently comedic - "WHAT??" Apparently I was now supposed to be qualified to discuss simulation challenges for space exploration. Yikes!
The next afternoon we sat at the venue going through the schedule with the forum chair. Several of the people on his agenda weren't coming, including the two who were supposed to lead the study group discussion on game technology for simulation. Their absences were both slightly my fault. As what I can only imagine was some bizarre penance, I became co-lead for their part of the agenda as well.
The panel was a truly painful experience. I shifted constantly in my seat, both out of unease and the necessity to fight a boredom-induced desire to fall asleep. I listened to the questions the moderator was giving the others and knew I'd be toast when he got to me. The year of tasks I was totally unprepared for seemed to be continuing.
But during the gaming discussion something else happened. The formality disappeared and there was a relaxed freedom I wouldn't have expected to feel before a crowd that had tripled in size. I was pacing small steps, glass of water in hand and gaze fixed on the carpet while the other lead spoke, when suddenly I didn't feel like myself anymore. Even the sentence slowly forming in my head didn't carry my own voice. "Right, so what you've basically got is..."
Another breath and I was back in the audience watching that speaker whose identity I had somehow assumed. I felt all of the respect his task commanded and remembered wanting to be up there doing the same thing.
And that's when it struck me for the very first time that I was.
For an agenda missing half of its scheduled participants the forum went surprisingly well. Apparently I didn't do too badly either. My game discussion co-lead would later tell me he knows that some of the things he enjoys that come easy to him are costly to me. To a degree he's right. When I was finally able to leave the room I stayed outside a bit longer than everyone else. I simply wasn't ready to be back among the crowd even though I was finished being in front of it.
But my few moments in another body and another room also reminded me that I'm doing the sort of things I'm supposed to - things I'm somehow wired for despite the expense that comes with them. I've come to accept that my life is supposed to be spent doing difficult things, be they in the vein of stepping up into jobs that are out of my league or admiring a world that continually breaks my heart. To do them takes a toll, but to not do them would be even more costly. Some things in life are just like that.
Captured At:1825
September 27, 2009
In that lapse of control death feels surprisingly kind. There's a finality about it that other partings don't carry because it means a person is truly gone. There's still sadness and missing and a desire to share that will never be fulfilled, but the person no longer exists in the way humans understand existence. No death means a life is continuing that you know you're no longer a part of and never will be. It means self-reminders that somebody is gone are only partially useful because "gone" is relative - specifically to you.
And so you press forward with varying degrees of thoughts and hopes and questions. Occasionally you imagine bumping into them by chance and wonder what you'd say if you did, what it would feel like, and how it would feel after walking away again. If their good news reaches you, you mourn the congratulations you cannot offer. When the opposite comes you feel helpless to a degree you didn't know existed.
I think it's those times more than any others that tell me I will spend my life paying for the things I've done. It makes it tougher to keep pressing forward - to keep wanting to - but I am accountable for my actions as I always have been. Right or wrong, well-intentioned, ill-intentioned or unintentioned, strong or weak, wise or naive, spiteful or loving, I own them. I own the consequences. I own the knowledge they breed that hopefully pushes me to live better.
Life was lonely and challenging before I experienced loss. Something always seemed missing, but not knowing what that intangible was made the feeling a bit easier to bear. Learning loss subtracted from a negative, which in turn probably made each of those things that taught me feel worse than they actually were.
Sometimes I think the real goal is to break even at the end. Others I'm completely unwilling to settle for a zero balance.
And then come those precious moments of clarity where I'm wise enough to step away from myself and know the truth. It's not about my balance at all; it's what I contribute to that of the people I encounter. The negatives I get don't matter if I keep striving to push past them and be a positive. It's a bittersweet revelation.
I'm grateful for where I've been - for the pain I've experienced, unpleasant though it's been. I consider what motivated my words this afternoon and am humbled by the revelation they brought me to. I am being grown into an amazing human being. A bold statement to be sure, but one I am unable to waiver from as anything other than fact. The path is laid out before me. All I need to do is continue walking.
I marvel also at another truth: those gone can still teach us. They may never know it, they may never see the outcome, but if their influence still rests upon us maybe they're not as far away as we believe.
Captured At:1914