Having slept for many hours, I had my eyes wide open as I faced my day.
Walking in the brisk air, purposeful, but not racing, I had my eyes wide open to see the sights of the city.
Having nowhere to be but home, I had my eyes wide open to what interested my kids.
Having a few moments of quiet, I had my eyes wide open to look for what might be.
Having a little time to stop, I had my eyes wide open to understand what just is.
Having travel time on a bus from A to B, I had my eyes wide open about my path.
Because I said "yes" when I could and "no" when I needed to, I tried to keep my eyes wide open about what was really important.
Sometimes, half the battle in life is keeping our eyes wide open--even when we're tired, even when what we're doing seems to leave us in a tunnel. Eyes wide open means we are ready to notice, ready to react, ready to adjust. And when we're not quite sure where we're going, eyes wide open and ready are the safest ways to be.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Out To Lunch
I don't go out for lunch. When I am working, it's much easier to eat at my desk. When I am not working, I can't justify the expense. So I do coffee, and the occasional dinner, and otherwise, some leftovers and a lunchbox make me very happy.
Today, however, the hours lined up to lunch out--with my son. He too tends to lunch in--whether it's school cafeteria food or packed pasta and snacks or Mac and cheese in the comfort of home, he happily shuns sitting in restaurants. But it was lunchtime, and a half day of school, and it just seemed like a good day for it. So after some negotiation, and some decision making (we non-lunch-outers aren't used to on-the-spot lunch choices), we found ourselves at a counter with smoothies and a sandwich. Was it gourmet food? Not really. Was it elegant in any way? Nope. But in our break from our normal routine, and in our time together, we found a half hour of comfort and reinvigoration for the rest of our day.
I suppose it is a bit like walking unencumbered after carrying something heavy, or like sleeping for a long time after many sleepless nights. We can appreciate things more fully when we have been without them. We can enjoy a simple half hour because it is suddenly something special.
I will probably still be a lunch in kind of person. But today's lunch reminded me how healing a little day out to lunch can be.
Today, however, the hours lined up to lunch out--with my son. He too tends to lunch in--whether it's school cafeteria food or packed pasta and snacks or Mac and cheese in the comfort of home, he happily shuns sitting in restaurants. But it was lunchtime, and a half day of school, and it just seemed like a good day for it. So after some negotiation, and some decision making (we non-lunch-outers aren't used to on-the-spot lunch choices), we found ourselves at a counter with smoothies and a sandwich. Was it gourmet food? Not really. Was it elegant in any way? Nope. But in our break from our normal routine, and in our time together, we found a half hour of comfort and reinvigoration for the rest of our day.
I suppose it is a bit like walking unencumbered after carrying something heavy, or like sleeping for a long time after many sleepless nights. We can appreciate things more fully when we have been without them. We can enjoy a simple half hour because it is suddenly something special.
I will probably still be a lunch in kind of person. But today's lunch reminded me how healing a little day out to lunch can be.
Friday, January 29, 2016
On Sleep
It has come to my attention that my whole life currently revolves around
sleep. This is, perhaps, an exaggeration. Yet, with the evolution of an
increasingly night-based work schedule, it is hard not to spend much of
the day pondering how to score enough sleep to survive the nights.
With my new focus on sleep, I believe I have learned a few things worth sharing. After all, in a world that increasingly twenty-four hour and a work world that is coming to have few to no boundaries, I may be the only one in my social circle working overnight now, but I won't be the only one for long. So, here goes...
1. That old new mom adage "sleep when the baby sleeps" really ought to say "sleep whenever you can." That would leave us all much better prepared for sleeping enough, even when there's no baby.
2. Sleep is more important than answering every call that comes during the day (90% of which are telemarketing calls). Even if you wake up, look before you pick up.
3. There's no shame in going to bed before your children. As long as they're safe. Whether you're working nights or not. End of story.
4. There is no wrong place to sleep. As long as you don't mind being stepped on (if you sleep on the floor), sat on (if you sleep on the couch), or laughed at (if you sleep in a place or position that leaves unbelievably amusing table or sweater marks on your face), it's all good.
5. You will catch up. You will. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even this week, but you will.
6. You will always be in good company when you talk about lack of sleep--everybody's got it, and even if it's nothing like yours, it's something to talk about, especially during those hours you aren't coherent enough to talk about much else.
7. Uneven sleep makes you appreciate a solid, in the dark hours, fuzzy pajamas sleep more than you ever imagined you could. It's kind of like a tray of brownies after a week of celery.
Now, having written an entire blog about sleep, I would like to think that I can make my life revolve around something else. And I guess if that's not possible, I'll just take a nap...
With my new focus on sleep, I believe I have learned a few things worth sharing. After all, in a world that increasingly twenty-four hour and a work world that is coming to have few to no boundaries, I may be the only one in my social circle working overnight now, but I won't be the only one for long. So, here goes...
1. That old new mom adage "sleep when the baby sleeps" really ought to say "sleep whenever you can." That would leave us all much better prepared for sleeping enough, even when there's no baby.
2. Sleep is more important than answering every call that comes during the day (90% of which are telemarketing calls). Even if you wake up, look before you pick up.
3. There's no shame in going to bed before your children. As long as they're safe. Whether you're working nights or not. End of story.
4. There is no wrong place to sleep. As long as you don't mind being stepped on (if you sleep on the floor), sat on (if you sleep on the couch), or laughed at (if you sleep in a place or position that leaves unbelievably amusing table or sweater marks on your face), it's all good.
5. You will catch up. You will. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even this week, but you will.
6. You will always be in good company when you talk about lack of sleep--everybody's got it, and even if it's nothing like yours, it's something to talk about, especially during those hours you aren't coherent enough to talk about much else.
7. Uneven sleep makes you appreciate a solid, in the dark hours, fuzzy pajamas sleep more than you ever imagined you could. It's kind of like a tray of brownies after a week of celery.
Now, having written an entire blog about sleep, I would like to think that I can make my life revolve around something else. And I guess if that's not possible, I'll just take a nap...
Thursday, January 28, 2016
To Teach A Kid--And A Grownup
Somewhere along the way, in what seemed to be a crazy school process,
which ended up with never having more than one of my three kids in the
same school at the same time, someone talked about how, kids being
different people, the "right" school for one might not be the "right"
school for another. How, I thought, could that possibly be true, given
that families outside of New York City tend just to send their kids to
the school in their neighborhood (a neighborhood in which they have
likely settled because of the school)? How, I thought, could that
possibly be true, given that even we New Yorkers all tend to be
clamoring for the same schools, none of us really aspiring to complicate
our lives by sending our kids to different places?
Now, hindsight is twenty-twenty, so I realize that any comment on what is now many years underway would simply be justification. Yet, as we have made our way through multiple schools and the accompanying logistics, I have come to realize that, both with schools and with life, not every choice fits every person. As I make my way through each new career step, some demanding new skills, new hours, new ways to think, I am beginning to see that what is workable--or at least livable--for me wouldn't necessarily be workable--much less livable--for every working mom. As I make my way through each career step, I begin to see that the others navigating through career steps (and there are a daunting number of them around me!) will handle them differently--will have different priorities, different approaches, and different thresholds--and, therefore, will end up in different places (much like my kids, who have continued to end up all over the city).
When I began the NYC schools game, I thought the goals, and the destinations, were clear. And I guess when I began the job journey game, I thought the same thing. Turns out that both had slightly different rules--and winning strategies--than I'd imagined. Turns out that there's more than one way to teach a kid--and definitely more than one way to teach a grownup.
Now, hindsight is twenty-twenty, so I realize that any comment on what is now many years underway would simply be justification. Yet, as we have made our way through multiple schools and the accompanying logistics, I have come to realize that, both with schools and with life, not every choice fits every person. As I make my way through each new career step, some demanding new skills, new hours, new ways to think, I am beginning to see that what is workable--or at least livable--for me wouldn't necessarily be workable--much less livable--for every working mom. As I make my way through each career step, I begin to see that the others navigating through career steps (and there are a daunting number of them around me!) will handle them differently--will have different priorities, different approaches, and different thresholds--and, therefore, will end up in different places (much like my kids, who have continued to end up all over the city).
When I began the NYC schools game, I thought the goals, and the destinations, were clear. And I guess when I began the job journey game, I thought the same thing. Turns out that both had slightly different rules--and winning strategies--than I'd imagined. Turns out that there's more than one way to teach a kid--and definitely more than one way to teach a grownup.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
The Reel Deal
We media types don't just have resumes, we also have reels. Whether we
are directors or producers, writers or editors, people expect to see a
video representation of our past work. So, realizing that it had been a
while since I updated my reel, or even looked at it, I found myself
pressing "play" on my YouTube channel. I'll admit, I was a little
nervous. How would a reel comprised of soap scenes, promos, an
educational piece, and a smattering of news (many of the clips in long
gone video formats) hold up?
Much of the video is not the crisp, clean HD we now look at daily. Yet, as I watched, I was struck by the variety of projects with which I've been involved. I was struck by how the One Life to Live clips still move me, and how proud I am to have devoted my time to projects that were more about creating good than about generating money.
There is, of course, room to update my channel and my reel. But I remind myself that updating doesn't have to mean getting rid of everything old. I may feel far from where I was when I edited some of those things, but that doesn't make them less a part of who I am now. And perhaps, in some way, they are the reminder that being an editor isn't just about the fancy effects, it's about the feeling the work creates. Being an editor isn't just about the jobs you've had, it's about the kind of person you are to work with.
An unexpected glance at my reel gave me a welcome reminder of where I've been, and perhaps where I can go. Maybe a picture (or a video) really is worth a thousand words...
Much of the video is not the crisp, clean HD we now look at daily. Yet, as I watched, I was struck by the variety of projects with which I've been involved. I was struck by how the One Life to Live clips still move me, and how proud I am to have devoted my time to projects that were more about creating good than about generating money.
There is, of course, room to update my channel and my reel. But I remind myself that updating doesn't have to mean getting rid of everything old. I may feel far from where I was when I edited some of those things, but that doesn't make them less a part of who I am now. And perhaps, in some way, they are the reminder that being an editor isn't just about the fancy effects, it's about the feeling the work creates. Being an editor isn't just about the jobs you've had, it's about the kind of person you are to work with.
An unexpected glance at my reel gave me a welcome reminder of where I've been, and perhaps where I can go. Maybe a picture (or a video) really is worth a thousand words...
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Not Easy
It
is not easy to add something to an already long day, whether that day
is your own, which began with work overnight, or your child's, which
has been filled with the business of class work and homework and plain
old getting along. Yet, there are days when something else begs--no,
demands--to be added. So when, then, is an add just an add, and when is
it too much? And how, on a daily basis, do we know the difference?
So, let's see--I was probably tired at the end of a long day when I went
to many a Children's Media Association event, where I met all sorts of
new contacts and friends. I was tired at the end of a long day of
Associate Directing when I went home to prepare for directing scenes the
next day, which gave me a rush and some extra money in the bank. I was
tired at the end of a long day when I went out to a family dinner that
tasted and felt great.
Quite often, the events and experiences for which we have to push ourselves beyond the energy we think we have become some of the most memorable ones in our lives.
All I really wanted was to sleep a little more. And feeling that way, I was mighty inclined to let one of my kids do the same. Instead, I said, "let's try" (and more compellingly, "because I said so"). And because I said so, and because he helped serve dinner to a food insecure crowd, he came home with a little more to think about. And because, tired at the end of a long day, I walked along with him and saw a little of my own table-moving skills and a lot of the best of him, I came home actually feeling a little energized.
It would have been far easier to walk home and shut down. It would have been far easier to give in to routine and comfort and what we wanted in that moment. But then we wouldn't have ended up with what we got. So maybe easier isn't always better...
Monday, January 25, 2016
Doing The Homework of Life
When I was in high school, I spent the better part of my weekends
completing homework for the coming week. One could argue that doing so got me better grades. One could argue that doing so
enabled me to spend my weekdays juggling extracurriculars, or that doing
so got me out of the cleaning and yard work my parents asked me to do.
Mostly, I think, I did it because it gave me a sense of control over my
time. If I could accomplish many of the week's assignments on my own
schedule, I could then accomplish what I wanted the rest of the time.
In some ways, not much has changed. While I don't necessarily have actual school homework (though I happily encourage my kids on the weekend homework path), my "homework" these days is the preparation for my work hours. Just as I felt better back then if I could control my use of time, these days, I feel better if I take control of getting sleep before an overnight, or packing snacks to survive said overnight. And I feel better if, with my kids, I can "clear the decks," just a little, so that we have some control over our week. As hard as weekends full of homework may have seemed back then, they bought me the control I so desperately wanted. They prepared me for hours of staring at floor plans and blocking scenes when I was directing. And they taught me the value of taking control of my time, and of teaching my kids to do the same.
We can let the homework of life overwhelm us, or we can take control of it. And if we take control, chances are, we will go into the situations of life better rested, better prepared, and better equipped to handle whatever comes our way.
In some ways, not much has changed. While I don't necessarily have actual school homework (though I happily encourage my kids on the weekend homework path), my "homework" these days is the preparation for my work hours. Just as I felt better back then if I could control my use of time, these days, I feel better if I take control of getting sleep before an overnight, or packing snacks to survive said overnight. And I feel better if, with my kids, I can "clear the decks," just a little, so that we have some control over our week. As hard as weekends full of homework may have seemed back then, they bought me the control I so desperately wanted. They prepared me for hours of staring at floor plans and blocking scenes when I was directing. And they taught me the value of taking control of my time, and of teaching my kids to do the same.
We can let the homework of life overwhelm us, or we can take control of it. And if we take control, chances are, we will go into the situations of life better rested, better prepared, and better equipped to handle whatever comes our way.
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