Well, most of what I wrote last week is true. However, I've changed my "gainfully employed" status to "gainfully seeking consulting gigs" instead.
Five months represents a tipping point in pregnancy vernacular - and I don't mean just mentally. I can't move without finding my stomach presenting itself - and I am most certainly aware that le bebe is going to be a lot more comfortable if I stop these weekly plane flights hither and yon. Ergo, I've gone terrestrial.
So I ask you - know anyone that needs a top drawer marketing and business development consultant??? My inbox is at the ready!
Long time no write. It's not that I didn't want to - but circumstances have been a bit chimeric as of late.
We moved. I became gainfully employed. Alan has worked through 3 start-ups and is now on his fourth. We're pregnant. I launch product soon. I give birth in June or July, give or take a bit of calendar-juggling.
In the past 9 months I've found some fascinating people to hang out with. I've got a great marketing team at Vulcan, my current employer, and we're working on interesting technology. It's a hand-top computer; something we're billing as a "super compact PC". It's got a lot of great features, but its a starting point for the category and I believe there is a lot more that will be done in the space.
I've gotten to work with some wonderful agency reps - notably HL2 and Edelman for PR. I've started teaching again at Seattle U, and am now in full swing in my New Venture Planning course - prepping grad students for the upcoming business plan competition at both Seattle U and UW. I live in exciting times.
No one has died - well, at least no one close to me. For this I am thankful. My eldest daughter is driving, and in fact is driving her own vehicle after my husband went even further gray letting her drive his car. This way we know she's safe, and if she dents the damn thing she'll be the one in tears, not Alan. This too is a blessing.
We decided to stay in the University house rather than move. I'm in my 5th month and the thought of packing and schlepping makes my stomach turn, even though I no longer have (nor had much of in any regard) morning sickness.
Otherwise, life is good. I apologize for the long silence. The creative juices seem to be flowing once more, and I expect a poem or story to emerge any day now.
Naked tines Sift endless layers of paper, deals and people.
Room to room and remnant to remnant, I move in reverent silence And ache with grief and longing.
Each shard a reminiscence tied to place and context; I hear words, see faces, some long gone. It's hard to stay on task with ghosts that tug your elbow and your heart.
Research, plans, handwritten thoughts and strategies. Patents, trademarks, products; phases; specs. Some stacks a seamless periscope from beginning through the end.
As we near bedrock, The purity of purpose re-emerges From hidden depths of disappointment.
From sound foundation's base, I know we'll build again.
Middle ground; Safe and central, unconflicted. The fulcrum may rest easy here, but experience teaches change, not stasis.
You can't know middle ground until the end, As only Hindsight knows these mysteries, and she's not telling.
With backward glance, I gently tick the wayposts toward the tipping point, and pillowed graceful glide to Vision's End.
With wavering grace, we walked that tighrope, shifting weight and weathered blows in thin, responsive slippers. Parasol askew, the world tipped, revealing safety's net as false and unsupportive.
Odd that failure has its own beauty. Each small setback like a wrinkle marring porcelain skin's perfection but with purpose and design.
Fresh, the scent of new potential hung in the air; Shimmering, dazzling in inherent, unformed possibility.
Such exuberance has resonance, an energy and life beyond its source; Hope and purpose crafted to conveyance through the minefield called "success."
When the world was new, uncharted ground passed swiftly under feet running with vector and velocity, to craft that which had not been, with value yet to be determined.
Would that "idea" alone would be sufficient.
But business beats to many drummers, And silent forces rage, with klaxon effect. No one sees full spectrum, but night vision helps.
Much anticipated, the birth unfolds in passion paired with pain; Perspective often lost as wizened, red and squalling, Hope and Hard Work's child arrives.
One prayer answered, illusory in magnitude and effect, Suspending and obscuring, for just a moment, the hard work yet to come.
I was sitting in the waiting room of my migraine doctor's office, a practice area that she shares with the cardiac department at Swedish Hospital. I was mentally grousing about all the bits that seem to be broken in my body, and feeling a bit put-upon that this was my third doctor's appointment (out of 5) this week, thinking that this was no way to start the holidays.
Two separate incidents occurred while I was waiting my turn. The first eye-opener occurred while I was sitting there knitting. Across from me was a woman reading a book. She was wearing one of those face masks that you often see on people with compromised immune systems. She was about 55, looked to be in relatively good health and seemed calm, cool and collected as she read her mystery novel.
A couple of minutes later, another woman about my age sat down and the two of them started talking. Most of what was said between them was complete goobledegook to me, but in the fullness of time, I grasped that the first woman had completed her heart transplant and was there for one of her check-up appointments. The other woman was the mother of another heart transplant candidate, a young man of 19.
As they casually discussed their mutual status, I was really struck that I have nothing, NOTHING to complain about, no matter how many bits seem to be going awry. I found it interesting when the mother asked the other woman if her personality had changed at all. I guess that when you embed another humans organs, some of that person's residual energy can remain. She got an odd look on her face and said "I like yellow now. I used to hate it! But that's the only change that I've noticed." This I found interesting, but I was thunderstruck when the woman asked the mother "What number are you?". The mother looked a little downcast and reported that "Jeremy is 489. I don't know if we'll be able to wait that long." Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed upbeat, stating "Oh, Mom, don't be such a worry-wort... I'm strong!". The other woman replied, "I see great things ahead for you, son. With that attitude, you're sure to make it."
The second incident occurred shortly thereafter. On the other side of the hallway from the cardiac department came a family; father, mother and two children. The father was in a wheelchair, and had clearly lost a leg and sustained other injuries. That family was *so* happy, because Daddy was going to be home for Christmas. The children danced around and around the chair, while the nurse in charge hugged both adults long and hard. There was such a palpable sense of joy in their presence, and as the elevator doors closed behind them, it seemed as if all the light in that hallway traveled with them.
This sequence of events reminded me that your health is first and foremost, and that family follows closely behind. No matter what you've got that ails you, there is always, ALWAYS someone who is worse off than you. Take joy where you can, and show appreciation for what you've got. And never forget that we're *all* strong.
I attended a doctor's appointment yesterday to learn how to use biofeedback to control the intensity of my migraine headaches. I'm not sure what I expected, but it most certainly wasn't a more fully evolved version of my best imaged self.
Carolyn McManus works in the adult rehabilitation section of Swedish Hospital. I'd been recommended to her by Dr. Sylvia Lucas, another stellar healing professional who deals exclusively with headache issues at UW.
Carolyn opened the conversation in an animated fashion, sharing her recent experiences at a conference presided over by the Dalia Lama on the mind's role in creating and sustaining experience, both positive and negative. I asked how she got into this field, and got a very interesting description on creating mindfulness around healing the whole person, not just physical injuries. Formerly a traditional physical therapist, she returned to school to complete graduate work in psychology with the intention of starting a counseling practice. However, upon further reflection she felt compelled to return to traditional medicine, bringing her own special brand of healing and holistic medicine into the mix.
Using this explanation as a segue into learning more about understanding and controlling my own mind-body connection, she started to ask questions about my migraine experiences and reaction to those experiences. This I found interesting - since when you're dealing with physical injury, you often get asked how and where it hurts, but not about your reactions and feelings to the injury itself.
Her work focuses on developing an integrated approach to dealing with pain. In her view, it's less about the physical experience and more about the mental approach taken to the physical experiences. In light of this viewpoint, we discussed ways to ascertain how your body is reacting and how to control those reactions more fully. These included biofeedback techniques, relaxation techniques and how these might connect to my reaction to stress, particularly in light of the migraines.
Her point was well taken. Pain is pain, but one's reaction to pain is something that can be controlled. In particular, I was struck by her suggestion that in the midst of pain, you can visualize it into context, creating it as a small component in a much larger mental universe. Another take-away that I found relevant to the way I operate is to engage a sense of curiosity rather than judgment when in the midst of a migraine experience. Often when these headaches arise, its in the context of a deadline or some other type of pressure point that needs to be met. The headache is often a sign that a) I've run out of internal resources or b) I've run out of creative ways to make the situation better. Her point is that though the situation isn't going to change, my reaction to it can.
Using her techniques, I discovered that if you really relax there is a natural re-balancing in the bloodstream that takes place. Fight-or-flight experiences tend to pull the blood into the core. When you relax, that blood moves back out into your extremities, e.g. away from your pounding brain. One side effect of this process is that the temperature in your extremities rises as the blood flows into them. I was able to raise my hand temperature 6 degrees after the first biofeedback attempt, though my outside reading indicates that an even higher increase is desirable. Women's hands at rest in room temperature surroundings are generally about 86 degrees. The goal is to raise the temperature up to about 95 degrees for greatest efficacy with migraine.
Part of building an awareness and degree of control is understanding where you are mentally in the stress pattern, and also where your body is. The body carries memories much longer than the mind. Carolyn was quite keen on being "in the moment" mentally, but also bringing your body along to being present in the moment as well. This is tough for me. Yes, I meditate and do yoga and all that great stuff that is supposed to bring "balance", but the minute I get into work, pfffffft!, it's gone and I am ready to fight the good fight until I can crawl home exhausted at the end of the day. Thus is the state of grace for a Type A personality.
Work is all about mental sharpness and psychological acuity. I read people's reactions for a living, and base business decisions on developing solutions that work from both a business and a personal motivation standpoint. Problem solving, keeping people motivated, keeping myself on track and engaged; this all takes mental energy. According to Carolyn, I need to integrate more of my outside-the-office Samadhi mindset into general tasks, whether it's making coffee or phone calls. Breathing in and out, keeping body awareness even in the midst of mental crises (real or otherwise) should help mitigate the stress triggers that seem to generate migraines. I have now found that even just a few breaths done with intention and focus can bring me back to my whole self - not just the noodle that wants to operate as a separate entity.
So there you have it. I've got exercises to do at home and at work, and I've already stopped at least twice today and took time to breathe. And no migraine yet this week, either, which is quite a welcome relief!
I had occasion to have a solid catch-up call with my former spouse this weekend. We talked about entrepreneurship, the difficulties surrounding new venture creation and finding an appropriate start-up capital partner and the challenges surrounding the transition between a "technology" frame of mind and a "business model" perspective. I will say for certain that he's learned a great deal about the business side of the equation since we last spoke.
It was good to talk with each other in a relaxed, engaged manner with someone with whom I'd been so close, then ever so distant. Time does heal all wounds, though you never forget where the scars are located. Nonetheless, we seem to be in a healthy place now, and for that I am thankful.
He sent me an email this morning entitled "Natural Highs." All of the points are good ones, and worth contemplating individually. I was touched, however, by the magnitude of feeling generated by #45, since you never know for sure that the choices you make are the optimal ones. Getting a bit of confirmation was more than touching; it actually made me catch my breath. Here is the email message:
Natural Highs
Please make sure you forward this back to me . . . You'll see why at the end !
Think about them one at a time before going on to the next one .
It Does Make You Feel Good, especially the thought at the end #45.
1. Falling in love.
2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.
3. A hot shower.
4. No lines at the supermarket.
5. A special glance.
6. Getting mail.
7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.
8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.
11. Chocolate milkshake (vanilla or strawberry).
12. A bubble bath.
13. Giggling.
14. A good conversation.
15. The beach
16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
17. Laughing at yourself.
18. Looking into their eyes and knowing they Love you
19. phone calls that last for hours.
20. Running through sprinklers.
21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
23. Laughing at an inside joke
24. Friends.
25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).
28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
29 Playing with a new puppy.
30. Having someone play with your hair.
31. Sweet dreams.
32. Hot chocolate.
33. Road trips with friends.
34. Swinging on swings.
35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
36. Making chocolate chip cookies.
37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
38. Holding hands with someone you care about.
39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.
40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.
41. Watching the sunrise.
42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.
43 Knowing that somebody misses you.
44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.
45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.
There was a wonderful piece written by Andy Rooney, describing what he liked about women over 40. In my opinion, it was brilliantly done, and not just because he's got a soft spot for those of us in the middle segment of life.
All segments of life bring their own bounty. However, in watching my daughter's struggles with all things teenagerish, I recall what an emotional roller coaster it was to grow up. I wouldn't have missed it for the world, but don't really feel the need to turn back the clock, either. I'm now mentoring students from a local university, watching their unfolding dramas as they come to terms with shaping their professional life and developing more mature relationships. Instead of craning their neck forward towards adulthood, they're attempting to create here-and-now life balance between school, work, home life and self care.
The middle years, at least thus far, have been exceptionally productive and fulfilling. There are many different ways to experience or measure one's "success", not all of which are quantitative in nature. You loosen your grip a little on the wheel, realizing that no matter where you turn, you're going to need to deal with what you find. The criterion for finding and living the optimal path comes from within rather than external factors that dictate what a "good life" should look like.
I've written a great deal about how to gracefully stay upright and mobile; especially about recovering from downturns and making choices that create a meaningful existence based on connection, integrity, and doing the best you can with what you've got and how you develop it. I'm going to add another caveat to the list. This is taking time to consciously take care of yourself. Oh, I know that Mother told you this years ago. But, it turns out to be true.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I don't know who said this, but it serves as an action-based ethical framework (the practical existence of hell notwithstanding) indicating that for all of the good thoughts you might have had, it's all for naught if you don't translate concept to reality. I've been meaning to take good care of my body for years, but have consistently put other things first, especially in the earlier phases of my life. The middle years provide an opportunity to look back and consider how one might choose differently, whether its with regard to health, well being, relationship, motivations, or just about any other important topic.
Now that I am actively doing so, the "aha!" associated with the process is ever so much larger. "Intent" does not equate with "completion." It's just the beginning of the process.
As I begin each fresh week, exercise sheet in hand, I realize that each time I choose to put something else first, the cost of that choice is reflected in my own well being, and by definition, my ability to contribute to the well being of those around me. This is not to say I've become an exercise Nazi; far from it. But the strata of my priorities has definitely begun to shift, and for the better.
It's Monday. I've got a long week ahead, but I'm trying to take care of myself, one day at a time. I hope you are as well.
After a long afternoon on the yoga mat, I was feeling really limber; all unwound. I felt good that I'd been able to hold several untried postures and that the rhythm between postures seemed to be smoothing out a bit. This is a problem when you've got long legs and not-as-long arms.
My sense of satisfaction was soon to be shattered. Marching towards my mat, full yoga walk in swing was my yoga instructor Jenny. I could tell that she was walking with intention, not towards the CD player or the alter next to my mat, but towards me.
Nothing in yoga happens without intention, or sense of purpose. Jenny's intention was about to become clear. "Where's your head?" she said, looking directly into my eyes. I stammered a bit, saying "Um, right here", pointing lamely to connecting point between neck and skull. And if it wasn't enough to act with intention, there is also the need for acting with compassion. No one ever yells in yoga class. It's just not done. But I could tell she was frustrated with me.
"No, no" said Jenny the Yogini. "I mean, where's your head? You have to think about where your head is when you do these postures." I thought about it a bit. "Can you be more specific?", I asked. "Well, your Downward Facing Dog is too stiff - you're holding your neck, shoulders and head as if you were the Sphinx - but I'm really worried about your head."
Now, the above statement might have brought up visions of a stone cat, OR of a puppy with his back-end in the air. Apparently, I was able to evoke both at the same time; no mean feat I will tell you. I threw back my head and laughed, because at that moment, I realized its an important question regardless of your activity.
Jenny looked at me somewhat askance. "I didn't realize it was a funny question", she said. I sought to enlighten her regarding my own moment of enlightenment. "Jenny", I started, "it's a great question. Whether in Downward Facing Dog, at the computer or in the boardroom, it's a good thing to know where your head is."
At that, she smiled. 'Yeah, I guess it's not such a bad question after all!". So thanks to the bridging zone between intention and compassion, I can ask myself at any given moment, "Where IS my head?". Hopefully, the answer still lies somewhere between neck and skull, but also between heart and head, and fully in the moment, whatever my current posture might be.
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