Tonight, I started a new chapter--literally, actually--in my life
adventures. For the next ten months, I will be part of a group, put
together by the Children's Media Association (CMA), that will write and
publish an Amazon e-book for children.
When I first heard about the project, I knew it sounded exciting. What I
didn't know was whether I could handle the time for something new. For
something that would, no doubt, force me to step beyond the day-to-day
schedule that I knew, and to put myself "out there" doing something I
had never done before. While I may write hundreds of words here daily, I
have never published a book (e- or otherwise). I have never written
something I hope my children and others will curl up with. I have only
rarely sat in a room with others who would critique my writing. The
thought of it all, while exciting, was pretty scary.
I dragged my feet on applying (and actually re-wrote my application multiple times before sending it), but, as you can see from what you've read
so far, I did apply, and I did get in, and tonight, I sat at a table
with the twenty or so other people who will be my collaborators for the
next ten months. Some of them clearly had concerns similar to mine, but
what came across much more at that table was the excitement part. The twenty
of us will be making the time and putting ourselves "out there" to make
this happen, one chapter each.
It's not easy to start something new, especially when you might feel as though you
are just mastering where you are in life now. But do you ever finish a
book if you read the same chapter over and over? It may be the best
chapter in the book, but it is not the whole book. And there are a lot
of books out there to be read, most of which you'll miss if you don't
start the next chapter.
My first contribution, my chapter, draft one, is due in a month. Stay
tuned for what, I imagine, will be the continuing saga of this new
"chapter" in my life.
Just another reminder (because sometimes we need them) that I am not washed up yet...
Friday, February 28, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Did You Go To Work Today?
Yesterday, as I was telling my family about various things I had done
during the day, my daughter asked, "Mommy, did you go to work today?"
I laughed and replied that I had, of course, gone to work--I had just been very productive on my way to and from work, and during the lunch break that I don't usually take. I had probably accomplished more in the time that I had grabbed than I would have been if I hadn't gone to work!
They say that if you need something done, you should ask a busy person, and perhaps that's true. My list of things done might have sounded like a full day of errands with no time for work in between--it was actually more than I remember accomplishing on the days when I was home unemployed. Sure, those days were spent culling through job leads and composing killer cover letters (that, at the end of the day, resulted in very little forward movement). Those days also included moments of staring into space, trying to accomplish, but knowing that there would likely be time tomorrow for what I couldn't finish that day.
When we are busy, we never really know what we'll have time for tomorrow, so somehow, we squeeze as much as we can into today. The results can be amazing.
Not every day will be as productive as that day. But thanks to an innocent question from a kid, I was reminded of how much I CAN do in a day. Perhaps there's hope for clearing that never-ending "to do" list...
I laughed and replied that I had, of course, gone to work--I had just been very productive on my way to and from work, and during the lunch break that I don't usually take. I had probably accomplished more in the time that I had grabbed than I would have been if I hadn't gone to work!
They say that if you need something done, you should ask a busy person, and perhaps that's true. My list of things done might have sounded like a full day of errands with no time for work in between--it was actually more than I remember accomplishing on the days when I was home unemployed. Sure, those days were spent culling through job leads and composing killer cover letters (that, at the end of the day, resulted in very little forward movement). Those days also included moments of staring into space, trying to accomplish, but knowing that there would likely be time tomorrow for what I couldn't finish that day.
When we are busy, we never really know what we'll have time for tomorrow, so somehow, we squeeze as much as we can into today. The results can be amazing.
Not every day will be as productive as that day. But thanks to an innocent question from a kid, I was reminded of how much I CAN do in a day. Perhaps there's hope for clearing that never-ending "to do" list...
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
In A Year
Today, in the course of doing an errand, I walked by a place where I
might have worked. It was a year ago when I thought about working there,
and seeing the building brought home how much can happen in a year.
In that year, because I didn't work at that place, I spent 2 months pondering the differences between unemployed and looking and freelancing. In that year, I spent five months traveling to Connecticut for "soap camp," reconnecting with people from my past, and wondering what the whole experience would mean for my future. In that year, I interviewed for jobs I didn't get, and "fell into" a job that went from one day to many. In that year, I went from days structured around meeting school buses (and some structured around school bus strikes) to days when it is a challenge just to get home for dinner. In that year, I went from hours of sometimes glorious, sometimes painful, quiet to moments of quiet grabbed only in the early mornings.
A lot can happen in a year. I could have ended up working at that building I passed today. At the time, it was an agonizingly hard decision not to try to work there. What a very different year it would have been had my decision been different.
Never underestimate the power of each decision you make. They can change your days. And your years.
In that year, because I didn't work at that place, I spent 2 months pondering the differences between unemployed and looking and freelancing. In that year, I spent five months traveling to Connecticut for "soap camp," reconnecting with people from my past, and wondering what the whole experience would mean for my future. In that year, I interviewed for jobs I didn't get, and "fell into" a job that went from one day to many. In that year, I went from days structured around meeting school buses (and some structured around school bus strikes) to days when it is a challenge just to get home for dinner. In that year, I went from hours of sometimes glorious, sometimes painful, quiet to moments of quiet grabbed only in the early mornings.
A lot can happen in a year. I could have ended up working at that building I passed today. At the time, it was an agonizingly hard decision not to try to work there. What a very different year it would have been had my decision been different.
Never underestimate the power of each decision you make. They can change your days. And your years.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
The Blue Folder
Today, I worked with a bright blue folder next to me. A rather tattered,
bright blue paper folder, labeled for one of my kids, repurposed for
use by another of my kids. The folder was in my eyeline no matter where I
looked. And that made it a very productive day.
Why a bright blue folder? This particular folder contained papers related to a phone call I would need to make during business hours. The sight of the folder, I figured, would ensure that I made the phone call. It turned out, however, that seeing the folder made me accomplish not just that phone call, but assorted other personal and family related tasks as well. All because I couldn't get that folder out of my sightline.
I have always attributed my ability to juggle work and family to my ability to separate the two--to focus on work at work and home at home. The only problem with this approach is that certain home tasks can't be done at home after the work day, so while I am focusing on work at work, I end up bypassing those tasks--not on purpose, really, but because they are just not part of my focus when I'm at work.
Enter the blue folder. That folder literally split my focus. No matter how hard I was working, I couldn't help but see the folder and remember that the papers in it had to be taken care of. And while I was at it, other home tasks had to be addressed as well.
I have made lists. Lists on paper, lists in my head, lists on my smartphone. Yet no list has been nearly as effective as the simple presence of that folder in my sightline was today. It didn't interrupt my work, but it ensured that in moments when I paused from work, I remembered the tasks at hand.
Thankfully, there are not always personal business tasks that need to overlap with work. A person could get extremely caught up and distracted. But for the ones that just have to be done, I'll be relying on that blue folder method again. Nothing like a recycled school supply to make things function just a little more efficiently.
Why a bright blue folder? This particular folder contained papers related to a phone call I would need to make during business hours. The sight of the folder, I figured, would ensure that I made the phone call. It turned out, however, that seeing the folder made me accomplish not just that phone call, but assorted other personal and family related tasks as well. All because I couldn't get that folder out of my sightline.
I have always attributed my ability to juggle work and family to my ability to separate the two--to focus on work at work and home at home. The only problem with this approach is that certain home tasks can't be done at home after the work day, so while I am focusing on work at work, I end up bypassing those tasks--not on purpose, really, but because they are just not part of my focus when I'm at work.
Enter the blue folder. That folder literally split my focus. No matter how hard I was working, I couldn't help but see the folder and remember that the papers in it had to be taken care of. And while I was at it, other home tasks had to be addressed as well.
I have made lists. Lists on paper, lists in my head, lists on my smartphone. Yet no list has been nearly as effective as the simple presence of that folder in my sightline was today. It didn't interrupt my work, but it ensured that in moments when I paused from work, I remembered the tasks at hand.
Thankfully, there are not always personal business tasks that need to overlap with work. A person could get extremely caught up and distracted. But for the ones that just have to be done, I'll be relying on that blue folder method again. Nothing like a recycled school supply to make things function just a little more efficiently.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Undone
For some people, Sunday is a day of rest, or a day of family, a day of gourmet brunch, or a day of special dinner. For me, while Sunday
might sometimes include one or more of these things, it always, always
includes getting things done. Once the week starts, things may fall by
the wayside in the chaos of work and school, so on Sunday, things must be done.
The only problem is, every Sunday seems to end with many things undone. Bills not yet paid, rooms not yet cleaned, milk and bananas that might need to be replenished at the crack of dawn.
You'd think that after years of weeks started with things undone, I'd be better at Sundays--more determined, more efficient, more organized.
Not so. What I have gained, however, may be a bit more important. For years, the things that were undone come Sunday night had me going to bed anxious about starting the week. What's different now is that I don't let the undone make ME come undone. If I've accomplished a lot, fantastic. But if the Sunday brunches, or Sunday dinner, or just some Sunday rest keep the checklist from being completely checked, that's okay. I go to bed anyway, and somehow, things work out.
Weeks may always be crazy, and Sundays may always be Sundays. But if "undone" is just a state of affairs rather than a state of mind, then, believe me, we'll all be better off.
The only problem is, every Sunday seems to end with many things undone. Bills not yet paid, rooms not yet cleaned, milk and bananas that might need to be replenished at the crack of dawn.
You'd think that after years of weeks started with things undone, I'd be better at Sundays--more determined, more efficient, more organized.
Not so. What I have gained, however, may be a bit more important. For years, the things that were undone come Sunday night had me going to bed anxious about starting the week. What's different now is that I don't let the undone make ME come undone. If I've accomplished a lot, fantastic. But if the Sunday brunches, or Sunday dinner, or just some Sunday rest keep the checklist from being completely checked, that's okay. I go to bed anyway, and somehow, things work out.
Weeks may always be crazy, and Sundays may always be Sundays. But if "undone" is just a state of affairs rather than a state of mind, then, believe me, we'll all be better off.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
A Little Perspective
Tonight, feeling quite heroic about all the things I had accomplished today, I headed to our building garage to retrieve our car for the last big endeavor--picking up a child whom I had dropped at rehearsal and taking her to a party a borough away.
As the friendly but weary-looking garage attendant handed me my car key, I asked him whether this was the beginning of his day or the end. He chuckled a little, and replied that while he was halfway through his shift there, he would be going to his other job--an eight hour shift somewhere else--right after. He wouldn't be sleeping much this weekend--particularly if his daughter wanted to play when he came home from the second job.
Suddenly, my heroic list of errands and pick-ups and accomplishments seemed pretty mundane. By the time he started Job 2, I would be snug in my bed, done for the day. And while all the things I'd done--grocery shopping, and laundry, and child transportation--seemed heroic, they were choices, useful things to have done, but things that could have waited, or been spread out over two days, or done more simply. The garage man would be working 16 straight hours--there was no getting around that.
It's amazing what a little perspective will do for you. How many times do we bemoan having to trudge to work in the snow, then walk by the people who have been shoveling that snow since dawn? How often do we complain about what's available to us--job-wise or salary-wise or location-wise--only to realize that we are lucky even to have these things to consider?
Tonight, the man in the garage reminded me that while the accomplishments of day to day life might feel heroic, they are simply what we do to make it work. And that no matter how hard we think we are working, there are likely people around us who have it a little bit tougher.
A little perspective can be a very good thing.
As the friendly but weary-looking garage attendant handed me my car key, I asked him whether this was the beginning of his day or the end. He chuckled a little, and replied that while he was halfway through his shift there, he would be going to his other job--an eight hour shift somewhere else--right after. He wouldn't be sleeping much this weekend--particularly if his daughter wanted to play when he came home from the second job.
Suddenly, my heroic list of errands and pick-ups and accomplishments seemed pretty mundane. By the time he started Job 2, I would be snug in my bed, done for the day. And while all the things I'd done--grocery shopping, and laundry, and child transportation--seemed heroic, they were choices, useful things to have done, but things that could have waited, or been spread out over two days, or done more simply. The garage man would be working 16 straight hours--there was no getting around that.
It's amazing what a little perspective will do for you. How many times do we bemoan having to trudge to work in the snow, then walk by the people who have been shoveling that snow since dawn? How often do we complain about what's available to us--job-wise or salary-wise or location-wise--only to realize that we are lucky even to have these things to consider?
Tonight, the man in the garage reminded me that while the accomplishments of day to day life might feel heroic, they are simply what we do to make it work. And that no matter how hard we think we are working, there are likely people around us who have it a little bit tougher.
A little perspective can be a very good thing.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Oh-oh, These Are The People on My LinkedIn
Yesterday, I got a comment on my blog from a LinkedIn connection, a person I haven't seen in quite some time. While I post the link on Facebook and LinkedIn every day, and I know that people read it through those sources, somehow the comments through LinkedIn surprise me. Rather, they remind me that each time I connect with people there, I am developing not just a professional network, but a sort of "neighborhood," made up of all the "neighborhoods" where I have worked or done business over, well, a fairly long stretch of time.
Now, a professional network can be a valuable thing. If you're applying for a job, LinkedIn helps you know if there are people you know who can give you an "in." But a neighborhood--that's a bit more. For, while the people in your "neighborhood" might be your links to your next job, they are also the people who surround you (literally or figuratively) where you are right now. You can see what they are doing, and they are witnesses to what you are doing as well. It can be a comforting thing to have a "neighborhood."
I may not be "borrowing a cup of sugar" from anyone in my LinkedIn "neighborhood" any time soon, but I am glad to be reminded that I am surrounded by a series of doorbells I could ring if I needed to. People as varied as the people in the Sesame Street song. The "people that I meet when I'm walking down the street"--of LinkedIn and life.
Now, a professional network can be a valuable thing. If you're applying for a job, LinkedIn helps you know if there are people you know who can give you an "in." But a neighborhood--that's a bit more. For, while the people in your "neighborhood" might be your links to your next job, they are also the people who surround you (literally or figuratively) where you are right now. You can see what they are doing, and they are witnesses to what you are doing as well. It can be a comforting thing to have a "neighborhood."
I may not be "borrowing a cup of sugar" from anyone in my LinkedIn "neighborhood" any time soon, but I am glad to be reminded that I am surrounded by a series of doorbells I could ring if I needed to. People as varied as the people in the Sesame Street song. The "people that I meet when I'm walking down the street"--of LinkedIn and life.
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