Some people wish they were younger--that they could relive their lives differently. I do not. Don't be mistaken, I have not lived unblemished by ill-advised words, and actions. Yet, to relive my youth differently would be to negate the lessons I've learned--the insights I've been given.
I would return to people, to places, and to events. Not to change them. To celebrate them. To honor them. But, not to change them. To friends, to family, you know who you are. Words escape me. We know what we have lived--before us is our future.
To unlikely people my mind is drawn. To Katie, you taught me the meaning of grace--of disgrace, her antonym, as well. You gave me poetry--"Brazen Honesty"http://patty-pattysponderings.blogspot.com/2011/03/brazen-honesty.html--a gift I shall treasure forever. An unlikely gift, I dare say. A gift nonetheless. To Janet, never before had I met, and never again will I know, a piece of work such as you are. Into my core, "there goes another gimp," you did gore. Yet, your words broadened my vocabulary--sharpened my ear.
My alter egos. Pre-school giraffe. A ballerina. Patrushka. Patty Tricia. Pat. Ms. P.T. Thorsen. Zoomer. Aunt Patty. Roboaunt.
To places. Michael Dowling School for Crippled Children. Bassetts Creek. 2625 Vale Crest Road. Washington, D.C. Oslo. The College of St. Catherine. Grand Marais. West Publishing. Developmental Disabilities Council.
To events. Teasing. Junior high school choir class. My first class at St. Catherine's. Baptism. Graduation. Master's degree graduation. Master's degree graduation celebration.
Do I wish I was younger? Do I wish my youth I could reclaim? No. I treasure the joys. I honor the sorrows. Neither joy, nor sorrow could enrich me now, if I was younger.
Once I was asked, "If you had not been born left handed, do you think you would have been right handed?" I was tempted to say, "If you had not been born a woman, would you have been born a man?"
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Boredom. Deny. Fear. Befriend. Boredom
Boredom. Boredom? Yes, boredom. Well, that doesn't sound very interesting. Humor me. Tell me whether hours of sleeplessness regarding a family member was the breeding ground for worthwhile insight.
I know three people who are at different stages of their careers, who are facing boredom's reality.
Two years ago--a lifetime ago now--my health ended a 24-year career, which was boredom's intimate. Not a constant intimate, but, an intimate, nonetheless.
When my career ended, my family doctor gave me excellent advice. Get up at the same time every day. Find something that you are interested in, and go to it as though it was your full-time job. Though my doctor had not known me long, he did know that I was reasonably intelligent--he knew that I thrived on intellectual stimulation.
Of the three individuals, my influence over them varies. I am not a confrontational person. My default behaviors are compassion, and empathy. I am uncomfortable being over in relation to anyone in my life, so, by that standard, I do not have influence over anyone. I might strive to be the compassionate, yet, straightforward friend a mentor of mine is. He does not volunteer his opinions--his judgments--readily, or with any fanfare. Yet, if I seek out his counsel, he is honest with me, not polite and proper, but, straightforward and caring.
The young man needs the most guidance. He yearns for excitement. He goes one step beyond fearing boredom in potential jobs he might secure. He denies that boredom is a possibility. If he denies boredom's possibility, then it will not be. I would make a lousy mother. I am too wishy-washy. I want to offer the example of my life, rather than risking the rejection that a more confrontational approach might render.
The second individual--a woman--is in the middle of her working career. She understands the realities of the work world. She has worked in jobs that were boring--jobs that did a grave injustice to her gifts. Yet, she understood the basic need to be self-supporting. Or, so I thought. Extended unemployment has nurtured an idealism that, at other times might be healthy. Yet, there is a time in one's career--when seeking employment--when serving as an outraged citizen advocate usurps the energy necessary to find employment. This woman fears boredom. She remembers its omnipresence in her work life. She has discovered social justice--advocacy--as a realm within her reach. Yet, her fear of boredom has the opposite effect that she wants. She wants to pursue advocacy. Yet, her resistance to the necessary boredom in aspects of gainful employment will distance her from the social justice she yearns to pursue. Her eroding self-confidence is the price she is paying for her fear.
The third individual--a woman--is in the late stages of her working career. She is boredom's intimate. Not a constant intimate, but, an intimate nonetheless. She does not fear boredom. She does not deny boredom out of fear. She befriends boredom. She has a tremendous threshold for boredom that many overlook--she is not a woman of fanfare. She has flair. She has creativity. But, she is not someone who draws attention to herself as being some poor soul. She lives life fully. She pursues her passions. She treasures people. She is a loyal friend, and is marvelous to her family.
Were I more courageous, I would shake the young man, and the first woman, so that I might rid them of their fear, and denial. Of the second woman, I need little courage to offer my support. Yet, I fall short. I know that I am not faced with the work world. No longer do I need to worry about finding a job, or changing a job. During the many years I was in the work world, I denied boredom. I feared boredom. I befriended boredom. Never did I surmount boredom as I want to chastise the young man, and two women for not surmounting. So, I find it difficult to chastise the three individuals for a standard I could not uphold.
No longer am I in the work world. I am working in a different world--creating a post-work world life. Funny. You might think that being freed of imposed boredom would be replaced by days of constant excitement. I don't know what that is.
Gradually, I am trying to put together elements of what I enjoy, what is necessary, and what I may do to serve other people.
What do I enjoy?
Writing. Online research. American history--New England, specifically. Genealogy. Letter writing.
What is necessary?
Physical exercise. Swimming. Being outside. People--being in circulation with other people. Being in community with a worshipping community that celebrates life, death, and all that is possible with the same exuberance.
What may I do to serve?
Identify organizations needing the skills, abilities, talents, and gifts I have been given to share with those in need. Challenge people I know to live up to their potential. Offer my life--my discoveries--with friends, family, neighbors, and worshipping community--fellow believers. Be open to the lives of my friends, family, neighbors, and worshipping community--fellow believers.
This is the structure of a new life. Much remains to be identified. I don't think I am alone in striving to create this new life--to recognize boredom, acknowledge denial, confess to fear, and befriend boredom, all in the hope of surmounting boredom. I confess I have a long way to go. I have forgotten what it is I want to do. I am not sure if that it is denial, fear, or both.
Boredom. Deny. Fear. Befriend. Boredom.
I know three people who are at different stages of their careers, who are facing boredom's reality.
Two years ago--a lifetime ago now--my health ended a 24-year career, which was boredom's intimate. Not a constant intimate, but, an intimate, nonetheless.
When my career ended, my family doctor gave me excellent advice. Get up at the same time every day. Find something that you are interested in, and go to it as though it was your full-time job. Though my doctor had not known me long, he did know that I was reasonably intelligent--he knew that I thrived on intellectual stimulation.
Of the three individuals, my influence over them varies. I am not a confrontational person. My default behaviors are compassion, and empathy. I am uncomfortable being over in relation to anyone in my life, so, by that standard, I do not have influence over anyone. I might strive to be the compassionate, yet, straightforward friend a mentor of mine is. He does not volunteer his opinions--his judgments--readily, or with any fanfare. Yet, if I seek out his counsel, he is honest with me, not polite and proper, but, straightforward and caring.
The young man needs the most guidance. He yearns for excitement. He goes one step beyond fearing boredom in potential jobs he might secure. He denies that boredom is a possibility. If he denies boredom's possibility, then it will not be. I would make a lousy mother. I am too wishy-washy. I want to offer the example of my life, rather than risking the rejection that a more confrontational approach might render.
The second individual--a woman--is in the middle of her working career. She understands the realities of the work world. She has worked in jobs that were boring--jobs that did a grave injustice to her gifts. Yet, she understood the basic need to be self-supporting. Or, so I thought. Extended unemployment has nurtured an idealism that, at other times might be healthy. Yet, there is a time in one's career--when seeking employment--when serving as an outraged citizen advocate usurps the energy necessary to find employment. This woman fears boredom. She remembers its omnipresence in her work life. She has discovered social justice--advocacy--as a realm within her reach. Yet, her fear of boredom has the opposite effect that she wants. She wants to pursue advocacy. Yet, her resistance to the necessary boredom in aspects of gainful employment will distance her from the social justice she yearns to pursue. Her eroding self-confidence is the price she is paying for her fear.
The third individual--a woman--is in the late stages of her working career. She is boredom's intimate. Not a constant intimate, but, an intimate nonetheless. She does not fear boredom. She does not deny boredom out of fear. She befriends boredom. She has a tremendous threshold for boredom that many overlook--she is not a woman of fanfare. She has flair. She has creativity. But, she is not someone who draws attention to herself as being some poor soul. She lives life fully. She pursues her passions. She treasures people. She is a loyal friend, and is marvelous to her family.
Were I more courageous, I would shake the young man, and the first woman, so that I might rid them of their fear, and denial. Of the second woman, I need little courage to offer my support. Yet, I fall short. I know that I am not faced with the work world. No longer do I need to worry about finding a job, or changing a job. During the many years I was in the work world, I denied boredom. I feared boredom. I befriended boredom. Never did I surmount boredom as I want to chastise the young man, and two women for not surmounting. So, I find it difficult to chastise the three individuals for a standard I could not uphold.
No longer am I in the work world. I am working in a different world--creating a post-work world life. Funny. You might think that being freed of imposed boredom would be replaced by days of constant excitement. I don't know what that is.
Gradually, I am trying to put together elements of what I enjoy, what is necessary, and what I may do to serve other people.
What do I enjoy?
Writing. Online research. American history--New England, specifically. Genealogy. Letter writing.
What is necessary?
Physical exercise. Swimming. Being outside. People--being in circulation with other people. Being in community with a worshipping community that celebrates life, death, and all that is possible with the same exuberance.
What may I do to serve?
Identify organizations needing the skills, abilities, talents, and gifts I have been given to share with those in need. Challenge people I know to live up to their potential. Offer my life--my discoveries--with friends, family, neighbors, and worshipping community--fellow believers. Be open to the lives of my friends, family, neighbors, and worshipping community--fellow believers.
This is the structure of a new life. Much remains to be identified. I don't think I am alone in striving to create this new life--to recognize boredom, acknowledge denial, confess to fear, and befriend boredom, all in the hope of surmounting boredom. I confess I have a long way to go. I have forgotten what it is I want to do. I am not sure if that it is denial, fear, or both.
Boredom. Deny. Fear. Befriend. Boredom.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Zoomer Chronicles: Mapping Out a New Life
Zoomer and I set out today to explore the southeast quadrant of Downtown St. Paul. I am not delusional. Downtown St. Paul, in toto, is small in geographic terms.
St. Peter. Wabasha. Cedar. Minnesota. Robert. Jackson. Temperance. Sibley. Wacouta. Wall. Broadway. Eleven blocks from west to east.
Eleventh. Tenth. Exchange. Ninth. Eighth. Seventh. Seventh Place. Sixth. Fifth. Fourth. Kellogg. Eleven blocks from north to south.
Within these eleven west- to east-bound streets, and within these eleven north- to south-bound streets are a myriad of adventures. The precise quotation escapes me, yet, one sidewalk inscription said it best. Essentially, it compared walking a dog with love. There is a whole world out there to explore. I will return to that quote in the sidewalk...once I remember its precise location:)
Intersections. Fifth and Sixth Streets are both parallel, and perpendicular. I kid you not. Twists and turns. Light-rail transit construction. I-94. I-35E. The Mississippi River. These are the boundaries of Downtown St. Paul. Yet, the question remains. How far may I push the envelope--how far may I push myself beyond the geographic boundaries of Downtown St. Paul?
This is not grandiose. This is not the stuff of graduate coursework. This is not the stuff of climbing the corporate ladder. I achieved academic goals. I worked in state government, a large corporation, and with an individual over a period of 27 years. Never did I approach the lowest rung on the corporate ladder. That is the past. Character building, to say the least. But, that is the past. It must be. I cannot let any unharnessed frustration or anger steer me off course. I may not know the direction I am to head, yet, I cannot allow any anger or frustration steer me off course from my journey.
Now I am called to live a different life. What does it look like? I am not sure. We have a new map. Now, Zoomer and I must begin using it. We must discover our new address. That is my choice. Today. That is my choice.
The geographic boundaries in which Zoomer and I travel are the framework of a different life--a life I am carving out for myself now, and for the future. This is not brain surgery. Yet, the only way I may know how to operate in this new life is to travel its arteries--breathe its air. So desperately, I want to encourage friends and family to do the same in their varied lives.
I do not have a vision for my friends, and family, any more than I understand what it is that I am supposed to live. I do have faith in them--faith in their potential. I do believe--understand--with every ounce of my being, that college graduation, release from prison, and unemployment are all times when lifework needs to be mapped out.
Frustration--anger--channeled is a sign of hope. Frustration--anger--unharnessed is a squandered opportunity.
St. Peter. Wabasha. Cedar. Minnesota. Robert. Jackson. Temperance. Sibley. Wacouta. Wall. Broadway. Eleven blocks from west to east.
Eleventh. Tenth. Exchange. Ninth. Eighth. Seventh. Seventh Place. Sixth. Fifth. Fourth. Kellogg. Eleven blocks from north to south.
Within these eleven west- to east-bound streets, and within these eleven north- to south-bound streets are a myriad of adventures. The precise quotation escapes me, yet, one sidewalk inscription said it best. Essentially, it compared walking a dog with love. There is a whole world out there to explore. I will return to that quote in the sidewalk...once I remember its precise location:)
Intersections. Fifth and Sixth Streets are both parallel, and perpendicular. I kid you not. Twists and turns. Light-rail transit construction. I-94. I-35E. The Mississippi River. These are the boundaries of Downtown St. Paul. Yet, the question remains. How far may I push the envelope--how far may I push myself beyond the geographic boundaries of Downtown St. Paul?
This is not grandiose. This is not the stuff of graduate coursework. This is not the stuff of climbing the corporate ladder. I achieved academic goals. I worked in state government, a large corporation, and with an individual over a period of 27 years. Never did I approach the lowest rung on the corporate ladder. That is the past. Character building, to say the least. But, that is the past. It must be. I cannot let any unharnessed frustration or anger steer me off course. I may not know the direction I am to head, yet, I cannot allow any anger or frustration steer me off course from my journey.
Now I am called to live a different life. What does it look like? I am not sure. We have a new map. Now, Zoomer and I must begin using it. We must discover our new address. That is my choice. Today. That is my choice.
The geographic boundaries in which Zoomer and I travel are the framework of a different life--a life I am carving out for myself now, and for the future. This is not brain surgery. Yet, the only way I may know how to operate in this new life is to travel its arteries--breathe its air. So desperately, I want to encourage friends and family to do the same in their varied lives.
I do not have a vision for my friends, and family, any more than I understand what it is that I am supposed to live. I do have faith in them--faith in their potential. I do believe--understand--with every ounce of my being, that college graduation, release from prison, and unemployment are all times when lifework needs to be mapped out.
Frustration--anger--channeled is a sign of hope. Frustration--anger--unharnessed is a squandered opportunity.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
A New Career? A Work in Progress...
A new career seems to be starting. It is more than a new job, yet, career seems to be too grandiose of a description. Retirement--early retirement--has never suited my prejudices of the word. Retirement and early retirement are choices made after a full career--at a prescribed time, at an opportune time thanks to a sufficient source of living.
Am I the only person with these experiences, thoughts, or feelings? What are yours?
In July 2009, my paid work life ended. I went from a full-time-employee--an FTE--to long-term disability--LTD. Long-term disability seemed a bit too transient a term for my tastes. A magical cure worthy of a personal interest news feature story will not be forthcoming. I will not be returning to the paid workforce within my lifetime. Let's face it, that will not happen. But, do not despair. I am doing my part to make possible that another individual may enter the workforce:) OK, maybe not, but it was a nice try:)
My doctor gave me the best advice I have received during the past two years. Get up and dressed at the same time, and invest yourself in something you enjoy. Go to it, as if it was your job. That is what the last few years have been.
"The next chapter will be to strengthen myself physically as much as is possible." That is what I told my colleagues, when I left my job--that was my life's priority. Restoring my physical strength took months. Precious chemical balance of anticonvulsants, and holding.osteoarthritis at bay by ankle surgery.
Concurrent with restoring my physical strength I undertook an exploration.
As I told my colleagues, "I must discover opportunities that call upon my mind, rather than tax my physical abilities."
Now, I am diving into that longer range pool of opportunities--swimming at the YMCA...volunteering. OK, so I am just getting my feet wet right now. Yet, that is a far cry from where I have been during the past several years.
During more than 25 years in the work world, I stayed with the employer who hired me in 1985. Within the company, I did the jobs that I was given. Early on, I begged for a position more befitting my abilities--my potential. Yet, it took years to get to any such position--longer than it should have--longer than it did for my colleagues. However, I never dared step out and risk securing more fulfilling work, for fear that my disabilities--the cover of my book, in a publishing company--would work against me in demonstrating my capacities to fulfill the assigned responsibilities. Was I right or wrong to act as I did? I wonder. Yet, I cannot torture myself with that wondering.
Somehow, always I sensed that I would not retire from my job at the prescribed time. I knew it was extremely unlikely that I would take the risk necessary to find more fulfilling work. My sense about my retirement was accurate. Yet, I did not see how it would come to be.
I am feeling very blessed presently. No longer do I work in the fast-paced, tension-filled corporate world. I have had surgery to ameliorate bone spurs--osteoarthritis, and now, I can get out into the real world without fearing harm is being done to my right ankle, thanks to Zoomer. I love surprises.
Am I the only person with these experiences, thoughts, or feelings? What are yours?
In July 2009, my paid work life ended. I went from a full-time-employee--an FTE--to long-term disability--LTD. Long-term disability seemed a bit too transient a term for my tastes. A magical cure worthy of a personal interest news feature story will not be forthcoming. I will not be returning to the paid workforce within my lifetime. Let's face it, that will not happen. But, do not despair. I am doing my part to make possible that another individual may enter the workforce:) OK, maybe not, but it was a nice try:)
My doctor gave me the best advice I have received during the past two years. Get up and dressed at the same time, and invest yourself in something you enjoy. Go to it, as if it was your job. That is what the last few years have been.
"The next chapter will be to strengthen myself physically as much as is possible." That is what I told my colleagues, when I left my job--that was my life's priority. Restoring my physical strength took months. Precious chemical balance of anticonvulsants, and holding.osteoarthritis at bay by ankle surgery.
Concurrent with restoring my physical strength I undertook an exploration.
As I told my colleagues, "I must discover opportunities that call upon my mind, rather than tax my physical abilities."
Now, I am diving into that longer range pool of opportunities--swimming at the YMCA...volunteering. OK, so I am just getting my feet wet right now. Yet, that is a far cry from where I have been during the past several years.
During more than 25 years in the work world, I stayed with the employer who hired me in 1985. Within the company, I did the jobs that I was given. Early on, I begged for a position more befitting my abilities--my potential. Yet, it took years to get to any such position--longer than it should have--longer than it did for my colleagues. However, I never dared step out and risk securing more fulfilling work, for fear that my disabilities--the cover of my book, in a publishing company--would work against me in demonstrating my capacities to fulfill the assigned responsibilities. Was I right or wrong to act as I did? I wonder. Yet, I cannot torture myself with that wondering.
Somehow, always I sensed that I would not retire from my job at the prescribed time. I knew it was extremely unlikely that I would take the risk necessary to find more fulfilling work. My sense about my retirement was accurate. Yet, I did not see how it would come to be.
I am feeling very blessed presently. No longer do I work in the fast-paced, tension-filled corporate world. I have had surgery to ameliorate bone spurs--osteoarthritis, and now, I can get out into the real world without fearing harm is being done to my right ankle, thanks to Zoomer. I love surprises.
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