Author: jenion

Flashback Friday

Remember that fresh-scrubbed, pj’ed-up, ready for bed feeling? The three happy children above: Me, in the festive clown pajamas; Jeff, the pensive child in the middle attempting to figure out how his new toy works; Chris on the right with the dazzling smile.

The six children in our family have been divided into two groups for most of our lives: the big kids (above) and the little kids (Gwen, Anne, Matt). Never mind that the baby is over 40 now, we maintain the groupings as verbal shorthand. We were reminiscing a couple of years ago, and one of my parents, instead of calling the three oldest the “big kids”, accidentally called us “the originals”. You can imagine the uproar that caused!

On a completely different note, I still love getting ready for bed and putting on my jammies. Visiting a friend last fall, I went into the bathroom to wash up and change. When I came out, my friend said, “Don’t you look festive!”  I used that word to describe my childhood circus clown p.j.s, and I would like to note that its a great word for a three year old clown. In my current stage of life, let’s just say I’ve decided that particular pair of p.j.s will now be reserved for home, not travel!

The “Jen Pack”

Reading a random blog the other day, I learned of a book called Bitter is the New Black : Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass,Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office, by Jen Lancaster.  I have NOT read the book, and while the review I read was favorable, I wasn’t tempted to run right out and buy it.

Anyhoo…one of the things the review mentioned about the book is a list the author calls the “Jen Commandments”, which is a list of things about her that her friends and loved ones just need to accept. As I understand it, and remember I’ve never read the book, they are the non-negotiables, the things that are just wired into her personality. This idea got me thinking. I mean, such a list would need to include the stuff that maybe you want to change about yourself but have given up on being able to. The things that you know your friends don’t like but put up with anyway because…well, they’re your friends. Or your family.

What, I wondered, would be on my list (if I created one)? It isn’t possible to set such a mental challenge for myself without quickly deciding to write it down and post it in my blog! So, here’s my list. Its not exhaustive – I am well aware there are other items I could add:

10. If I am angry or irritated about something, anything, it will sound in my vocal tone, which will become harsh and vehement. And you will think I am mad at you…but I’m not. If I am angry with you, I will normally hide it from you. To recap: If I sound mad to you, it can’t possibly be at you.

9. I will tell you every detail of my vacation, my workout, or the movie I watched last night. But if something truly meaningful has happened, or my emotions have been deeply engaged, you will have to ask probing questions if you want details.

8. I like to use the wonderful vocabulary I developed as the result of an expensive liberal arts education. If you don’t know a word, say so and I’ll define it for you. That doubles my fun!

7. I drive the way my father taught me to. I do feel bad when it terrifies my passengers.

6. I get mushy and sentimental. Often at really inappropriate times (karaoke night at the bar, while doing dishes at your house, when everyone is finally being relaxed and silly). You will know this is happening because I will kill the moment with my need to express my sentiment.

5. I have been known to bring my slippers with me to friends’ homes. When I put them on, I might imply that the inside temp at their place is not fit for warm-blooded mammals.

4. I procrastinate, then panic. I take you with me to the panic place.

3. I try to stop myself but “I told you so”, or a variation on that theme, slips out.

2. I overreact. My first thought, comment or reaction is usually suspect. My third thought or reaction is invariably better and/or more appropriate to the circumstances.

1. Out of sight is out of mind. Bills, friends who live across the country (or town), societal ills, the five items I need every morning but forget to buy when I stop at Walgreens. The public library once sent me to a collection agency for unpaid fines. I kept forgetting to return the books because they were underneath a pile of crud in my apartment. I don’t intend to be a deadbeat, it just happens.

OK, so it might be fun to think about this list, and to suggest that the items on it are unchangeable aspects of my personality. To ask my loved ones, colleagues, and in some cases strangers, to just suck it up. It is tempting to believe that these traits are inborn, that like Jessica Rabbit I can say, “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.”

The unfortunate truth, though, is that these traits are not things outside myself, beyond my scope of either management or responsibility. I can impact them through conscious attention. And I do try, though I am imperfect in both conscious intent and  in the application of effort.

And so I’ve decided to let Jen Lancaster keep her “Jen Commandments” without horning in on her clever concept. I’m thinking of mine as a “Jen Pack” –  ten things I’d like to change about myself. Ten things I would like to ask my loved ones to be patient with in exchange for my promise that I’m working on them.

Respectful Dissent

This morning I was inspired by remarks made by Dr. Maryanne Stevens, President of the College of St. Mary in Omaha, Nebraska. Dr. Stevens’ comments were the final remarks on a weekend retreat exploring the theme of what it means to be a Mercy college or university (for more information on Mercy institutions of higher education, please check out the Conference for Mercy Higher Education website. I believe Dr. Stevens’ remarks will eventually be posted there.)

I cannot do justice to Dr. Stevens’ remarks by attempting to paraphrase them here. However, I do want to share my thoughts regarding one concept introduced this morning: respectful dissent. Respectful dissent, according to Dr. Stevens, involves first listening with an open heart and mind. Then, we must turn inward and reflect upon what we have heard, before determining our response. Only after deep reflection, if we feel called to dissent, by virtue of our membership in a community we would look for ways to do so respectfully. Within the context of Dr. Stevens’ remarks, the community under discussion was the Catholic Church. She was able to offer several examples of respectful dissent within that faith community.

As I’ve thought about this concept throughout the day, I see that it has application for many areas of my life, including but not limited to my rocky relationship with Catholicism. In the workplace, as we struggle to define our roles and to intentionally create policies and programs which reflect our mission and values. In our civic and political engagements, as we strive to resolve difficult and contentious differences in our visions for the society in which we live. In our families, where we hope to create safe and trusting environments which feed our souls and allow us a safe place to land if we fall in life.

We live in a world which appears to have accepted wholeheartedly an adversarial model of disagreement, with a concomitant style of discourse which espouses confrontation and disrespect for those with differing views. We spend our energy shouting each other down, or worse shooting each other down. Respectful dissent would differ in that the process would include dialogue: both deep listening and deep speaking (from the center of ourselves, rather than from the surface, our egos). Its end goal would be lasting and transformative change, as opposed to declaring the loudest voice “the winner” and disenfranchising “the loser”.

 Are there situations in which it would be inappropriate, or not be applicable, to engage in respectful dissent? I don’t know, however, I am doubtful that those who dissent from men like Moammar Gadhafi would be successfully able to take this approach. On a more personal level, do I know what it would look like if I attempted to bring it as a personal response into my daily life? Not really. But I suspect that if I am able to engage more often in respectful dissent, it will result in fewer embarrassing reflections on my hot-headed over-reactions, as well as the need for fewer apologies for steamrolling over other’s opinions. And I think I would like those changes quite a lot.

Flashback Friday

On the stairs at St. Raphael’s Cathedral following my confirmation. This was the day we were to become “adults” in the eyes of the Church…didn’t look or feel very much like an adult! However, I am the only one in the photo maintaining the prayerful attitude we were instructed by Sister Irma Mary to present all the way out of the church.

Throughout my school years, I wore four different Catholic school uniforms, but this one was the best (way better than the red and gray plaid at St. Anthony’s)! Wool, all year. No pants, no shorts, no long-sleeved blouses – no matter what the weather or temp.

What does it say about me that, of these children I went through five years of school with, I remember the names of both boys in this photo but neither girl? The boy behind me was my nemesis in classroom competition (especially Iowa Tests of Basic Skills; our scores were posted in order from highest to lowest, with names, at the front of the room). The grinning one in front was a regular in our recess games of “Batman and Robin” (I was Bat Girl. Though I longed to be Cat Woman, we all knew I couldn’t pull it off!).

An Inside Job

Recently, I have been lamenting, kvetching, complaining or just plain old whining about being stuck, weight-wise that is. I have recommitted to my goals, renewed my determination, and reviewed You: On a Diet to little avail. I have upped my workouts in both time and intensity and (with the exception of a little Oscar night snacking) have measured and counted calories with real discipline. There has been some incredibly slow, incremental movement on the scale, but I’ve been impatient.

Then yesterday came along, in the middle of a busy and frustrating week, and something shifted. I was sore from an incredibly demanding workout on Tuesday, but I powered through an intense early morning cardio blast. When I got dressed for work, I just felt right in both my skin and my clothes.

After work, I went clothes shopping with my friend, Sara. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, just before trying on the massive pile of clothing I brought into the fitting room. And for what was the first time in many years, what I thought wasn’t, “Wow, look how fat you are” or, more recently, “Wow, I thought I’d lost more weight than that.” The thought I had, standing in the Von Maur fitting room under horrendous fluorescent light was, “Hmmm. I look normal.”

Normal. As in, not huge. Not outside the norm. I felt like anyone else might feel in a fitting room, preparing to try on clothes — I could see my figure “flaws”, I could see what I wanted new clothes to emphasize or detract from. But standing there, in a short-sleeved t-shirt over a long-sleeved thermal shirt, and broken-in jeans I also thought I would blend in any crowd. So what that the pants I was trying on came from the women’s section, and the shirts did not? So what if I wasn’t at my ideal weight – who in the fitting rooms was?

As I tried on clothes, Sara and I found quite a few looks to laugh at. But almost everything I tried on fit, some things just didn’t work. As I made my selections, and put my own clothes back on, I realized how happy I was at that moment (even before getting to the shoe department!).

Happy and clothes shopping. Two concepts that, for most of my life, have been diametrically opposed. And I realized that this new experience was an inside job — meaning that it really had nothing to do with the external circumstances of the reading on a scale, or how I looked in a full-length mirror, or whether manufacturers made clothes that fit my frame. Instead, it had everything to do with what I was feeling and accomplishing internally. I have really been working hard – harder than I ever have – on my fitness and diet. And I am so proud of that work, and so surprised to discover capabilities beyond my expectations. Being proud of myself for being disciplined and for being internally motivated is a very new feeling. And a very good one.

So, this morning, still sore from Tuesday, I rolled out of bed with every intention of another workout with the dreaded TRX bands. And because its Thursday, before getting into my workout clothes, I stepped on the scale. Down a pound. Cool, but not defining. Moments later, I stepped out the door, on my way to another normal day.

Busy, Busy, Busy

Today begins six weeks in which I will be incredibly busy. I have done what I could to prepare for it, though it wasn’t enough. After all, the past few weeks have been busy in their own right! When I start to feel pressure from the things I know are on the horizon, I have a tendency to give anxiety free-reign. And as I feel more anxious, I grow less patient, less able to take minor setbacks in stride. As anxiety reaches fever pitch, I begin to resent the conditions in which I find myself – as if I didn’t have a hand in creating them.

Because a lot, though not all, of what I will be doing in this busy period is work related, I will have a tendency to blame my job for the outcomes of my anxiety – if I snap at someone, if I drop the ball and let a friend down, if I miss an appointment. So my challenge is to remain centered and on task in my own life, and to not allow myself to abdicate responsibility for my actions.

Parker Palmer, my go-to guy, says this, in A Hidden Wholeness:

“The notion that we cannot have what we genuinely need is a culturally induced illusion that keeps us mired in the madness of business as usual. But illusions are made to be broken. Am I busy? Of course I am. Am I too busy to live my own life? Only if I value it so little that I am willing to surrender it…”

So, heading into Monday, I am pausing to take a deep breath. The next weeks are a marathon, not a sprint, so I need to pace myself and remember what I truly value!