Ideas

Get off the ferris wheel?

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The common theme for me recently has been: work/life balance. Chris of course has been my strongest advocate for more balance. Work less, play more. Co-workers, and friends at work, friends outside of work, and family have all encouraged me to take a stand for more balance in my life. It has been something I have struggled with ever since I started my professional life. Yes, there have been ebbs and flows. Times when more is asked of you, and others when you are bored at your job. I always found a way to cope with work boredom – I started my own business. Somehow it was ingrained in me at an early age, work hard, play later.

We are often a product of our childhoods. Sometimes that means we are in a vicious cycle of not repeating the mistakes of our parents and yet we can never seem to get off the ferris wheel. Somehow we are always stuck on the top and never get to get off the ride. I have very vivid visuals of my childhood. There were many opportunities I missed out on because we either could not afford it, did not have the transportation to be able to participate, or had so much responsibility to take care of others in my family, that often there was not time for play. At times I wonder if I worked so hard to never replicate my experience, that I forget that my life is now so far removed from my childhood. So how does someone who grew up in that environment get off that ferris wheel?

Chris and I have talked about this on numerous occasions. He often reminds me that together we have carved out a life that we have made our own. We have been meticulous about our finances, discussed our decisions and choices extensively, and feel confident that we are going down the right path. We have full control on when the ferris wheel stops, but somehow the momentum of all the different responsibilities we have, makes it somehow feel like everything is going so fast it feels nearly impossible to stop, get out, and maybe find another ride.

We tease each other (and maybe at times are more serious than others) that having a kid means getting on an entirely new ride. Maybe babies are not allowed on ferris wheels, and by making the choice to get off and start a family, we forfeit the ability to get back on. Is that true, or is that new ride, even more exhausting (yet maybe more fun and exhilarating)? I am a fan of roller coasters, so maybe starting a family is like that. A long wait, big thrill and then start all over again (just kidding). I think I am getting carried away with the theme park analogies today.

How do you get off that ferris wheel, daily, weekly, monthly? How do you walk away, yet stay connected to what is important? I am all ears for how you maintain that work/life balance. Would love to hear your inspiration, challenges, and ideas!

 

Co-Pilots, Co-Parents, Co…

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I have been thinking a lot lately about the term: “co-pilot.” It is applicable to so many parts of our life. Our spouse or partner is our co-pilot, whether that means in how you parent, deal with your family, or even how you support each other. Using the term co-pilot is not meant to confuse you. In flight terms the co-pilot is second in command to the pilot. Remove that notion from your thought right now, and think of co-pilot as it is defined. “Co” meaning joint or mutually. Are you with me so far?

Think of it in the realm of parenting. If one parent is always the pushover and the other is always the firm one it can cause issues with the kids (not that I have kids and truly can speak to it but just stay with me for a second or two). Going back to pilots. In order for those pilots to fly that plane (all modern conveniences aside) is that they have to be mutually connected to the task at hand. They have to know what the other is responsible for during the flight, so that they do not override each other and potentially create turmoil for their passengers. Just like if parents communicate and are on the same page, it creates a much clearer message for children to follow. Still with me?

It also translates to a work environment. Many individuals have to share a role with a peer, or co-lead a team. In order for that team to run smoothly they need to communicate clearly with each other, make sure they are on the same page, ensure there is clarity of roles, and then execute based on what is mutually agreed upon. If one individual does not communicate with the other, it can lead to resentment, frustration, and have a trickle down effect to the rest of the team. The same goes for marriage: clear communication, clarity of roles, and follow through with what was agreed upon. Quite simple right?

See how many areas of our lives we have to share responsibilities and be very clear on what end result we are driving towards? Yes, I am making it simple, and it actuality is an intricate web of personal dynamics, differences of opinion, and emotions that can lead to a multitude of responses and outcomes. Yet, if we just go back to the idea of “co” and make sure that we are making choices that are mutual, joint, and inclusive we might begin to weave a cohesive, strong, and unflappable thread in our marriage, family, and work environments.

Start with “co.”

A little dabble in wax…

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Over the weekend I took an encaustic art class. It was my first time playing with wax, a heat gun, and my desire to deep dive into this art medium. I have been interested for years, follow a few local artists, and finally took the plunge to dabble in something that has inspired me for quite some time. I learned a lot, have even more of a desire to purchase my own supplies and whittle away the hours in my own little creative world.

You may remember a post from almost a year ago on the encaustic piece that Chris and I purchased at the Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts. It is the second piece we have hanging from local encaustic artist Karl Kaiser. I love the modern look of his work, the clean, smooth look of the wax resin, and I have to say after spending 2.5 hours playing with this art medium, what he does takes incredible patience. Here are the two pieces I semi completed during the class. You should feel honored and lucky that I am sharing my unfinished artwork.

As soon as I have a spare moment (life has been busy what can I say), I am going to do some research to find out what it will cost me to purchase a heat gun, pancake griddle, metal warming pots, resin, wax, medium, encaustic paint, boards, etc. While it sounds like a lot, I think I can do it fairly inexpensively to start with to ensure that it really is something I want to do long-term. As I write this I have visions for different paintings I would like to try, and I can see it begin to become a bit of an addiction. I can only imagine that there are things to do at home, the house is interestingly quiet, and Chris tracks me down knowing that he’ll find me in the studio (aka baby room, aka dog room, if only we could decide), wasting a Saturday away playing with wax. Is that really so bad? There have to be worse addictions. There was something soothing about manipulating the wax and in some ways having no control over it.

I asked the instructor if I could play with hardware washers. I ended up only having the time to put one into my piece, but I can see where I would like to explore metal and wax, sort of a juxtaposition on organic and industrial in one piece. I think I am already addicted.

Chris are you ready for our shopping trip to the art, hardware stores and oh your favorite: Michaels?

“i carry your heart with me”

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Over the weekend I got sucked into the movie “In Her Shoes” with Toni Collette, Cameron Diaz, and Shirley MacLaine. It has been years since I have seen it, but for some reason I was enraptured as though it was the first time I watched it. The sister story line, the death of their mom, and then the interwoven story with a long-lost grandmother, and a clueless dad, kept me engaged even though I had a list of things I wanted to do. I had forgotten the ending too. Cameron Diaz reads an e.e. cummings poem: “i carry your heart with me” to her sister during her wedding. It brought tears to my eyes.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

It makes me think of Chris. For those of you who know me, or have been reading this blog for a while, you know that I am addicted to my husband. This precious poem makes me think of him with immense love and gratitude. It also makes me think of my sister and my 2 month old niece. I am sure my sister will think of little Charlie if she reads this blog. It also makes me think of my mom, my dad, and my grandma, so it serves those we have lost. Such a timeless, versatile, and expansive poem. Of course, it also makes me want to write in all lower case.

In case you want to remind yourself, here is the excerpt of Cameron Diaz reading this poem to her sister:

 

Voracious desire to learn…

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What I remember most about my mom was that she loved children and that she was a teacher. From before I even went to school, there were kids and babies underfoot in our house. When I was really little until about second grade, my mom ran a day care in our house. I had a love/hate relationship with her job. I loved the constant and instant access to playdates and friends. I can still remember the names of the children and some of our many adventures on our back porch, quasi above ground pool, outside riding bikes, etc. Even the time when one of the boys proposed to me and gave me a ring, (yes I guess courting starts young doesn’t it?) What I hated – was that I had to share my toys, my bedroom (babies sleeping), and my mom when I came home from school at the end of the day.

A few years later she moved to her main love, teaching elementary school. Again, I had a love/hate relationship. When I was in second grade, she was the secondary teacher in the “other” second grade classroom. For anyone who knows what it was like to have your mom teach in your school, or be highly involved in your school, there were times when you loved that they were nearby, and other times when you were going through growing pains, teased, or gaining your own independence, that you wished you were dropped off at school only to see them at the end of the day.

Either way, we do not get to pick what our parents do for a living or how they are present (or not) in our life. We do eventually have the opportunity to look in hindsight and see what we learn, or how these experiences evolve us into the people we are today. I am grateful to have had those years with my mom, watching her extreme patience (I wish I was granted with such patience). She valued education and learning and even now thinking about it, she got her masters in teaching in her forties, not an easy feat with three growing kids and a job. Maybe that is why I have such a voracious desire to constantly learn new things.

I am not a teacher. I absolutely love children, but I do not think I would have the patience to spend my day in a classroom and then come home sane to my family. I admire, commend, and appreciate each and every individual that teaches in a classroom. You shape the world for so many little (and not so little) beings each and every day. Thank you, mom, for teaching me to solve problems, crave ideas, and to continuously try new things. Miss you.