Yesterday the weather was in a perfectly overcast, rainy state to match my really crappy mood. I know it's common for sensitive people to be affected more strongly by their environment, especially stormy weather. I started to feel a little better on my drive back to Ft. Collins as the sun started to break through and the clouds started to dissipate. My Joss Stone music helped a little bit too. There's something about Tell Me 'Bout It that just makes you want to sing and dance no matter what. I mean, you absolutely have to do the hand wave whenever you hear "let's have a show of hands who's addicted to their man." It's "Chick Code," even if a part of you would rather scream at all the bad drivers on I-25.
I know that I'm exhausted too. The MBA is almost completed and since this last class is a team project, I get some lulls in my workload from week to week that I wouldn't otherwise. Sometimes you don't realize how hard you've been pushing yourself until you get the chance to rest a little. Needless to say, when you come home on a Tuesday, lay down for a nap, end up sleeping twelve hours, and wake up feeling like you've been run over by a truck, you know something's wrong.
Last night wasn't fun. Crying isn't fun. Doubting and berating yourself isn't productive. Of course, this all could just be early perimenopause. I have, I'm sure, prematurely aged my body since I was seventeen. I've resolved to make a doctor's appointment even though I hate them. Besides, I need to rule out anything serious and I can't go about my day being so irritable for no reason.
So, how do you fight through this? Negativity. Depression. Irritability. Exhaustion. You can focus on something that makes you feel better-some source of inspiration. You can reach out to friends or family and talk about it. You can remove yourself from the world for awhile and hash it out privately until the feelings lessen. You can acknowledge what's happening and try to self-medicate by talking yourself out of it. There really isn't a single answer, except for the fact that you have to resolve to find some way to take care of yourself.
"M" told me last week that I was "one tough little girl," "I don't know how you've made it this long with school and work," and "you need to take a couple months off." I think he's right. Being highly sensitive means your energy gets depleted faster than others, especially by strenuous activity such as completing a Masters degree and working 50-60 hours per week for the past two and a half years.
I'm not sure I want to put myself through another round of this. I'm not sure it is right. I've set myself up for a seventy-five percent probability of having to make a major change. A change I don't have to make if I don't want to. Eventually I would like to be eighty-percent freelancer/self-employed, twenty percent employed by someone else at no more than 30 hours per week. I'm tired, worn out, and I'm not even 35 yet. Highly Sensitive Person or not, I don't recommend working yourself to death.
I know I could jump now, with no promise of outside income for a year, and be ok. Perhaps I should listen to "M." Perhaps I really should reevaluate the ball I just pitched out to that sketched horizon. Perhaps there is another way. Today's tag of the day did say "Jumpn," after all.
And at the core of fighting negativity is paying attention to the warning signs that both your body and your inner essence are trying to tell you.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Resolving to Take Care of YOU First
My co-workers were in a sort of "behind the scenes" uproar this week. There's a mandatory annual benefits meeting next Tuesday and the rumor is that we're not only going to see an increase in our health insurance premiums, but that we're going to lose our yearly stock options as well. They're worried that the next thing to go is the pension plan, which is really upsetting for those who have begrudgedly endured year after year of service just so they could eventually "cash in."
I've heard a few mumblings of "now I'm going to have to do the same amount of work or even more for less," and "they better not take away that plan-that's the only reason why I've been here 15 years and I want it. What's 15 more?" I say welcome to corporate reality. It's like that almost everywhere. Companies are having to do more with less and stretch themselves as far as they can to make a somewhat acceptable bottom line. Not to mention, we're still lucky. Those stock options aren't worth much anyway with the market's current volatility and what company still gives their front-line employees that benefit? It's certainly been my first time getting them.
And really, our out of pocket health insurance premiums are currently some of the lowest out there-about $15 bucks a week if you're single with no dependents, including medical, dental, and vision. While I was lucky at one time to have an employer who covered 100% of those costs, I'm certainly used to paying a lot more on a lower salary. A pension plan still being there when Generation X and Y reaches retirement age? C'mon guys, how realistic is that? Don't let the illusion of that safety cushion be the reason you stick with a job (and a company) that you don't enjoy anymore. I know when I came on board five years ago, I never considered the possibility that it would still be there when I reached 65 or 67. That is, if I was even still with the company. Most of us switch jobs or even careers every two to five years anyhow.
Personally, I don't count on someone else or some outside "entity" to take care of me, financially or otherwise. That's why I have a separate IRA from the company's 401(k), an emergency savings account, and a few other personal investment accounts. Why? Because when it comes down to it, you're the only one you can be sure you can count on. This doesn't mean interdependence doesn't matter and isn't valid. However, before you go rushing out to meet everyone else's needs or lean back in your lazy recliner because someone else is dangling the promise of "I'll take care of that for you," you should stop and consider if your needs are really taken care of.
My father used to always say that material things in life didn't matter because you weren't taking any of it with you. He was right, I think. Learning simplicity and taking on the perspective that you have "more than enough" will release you from the worries that accompany materialism. A little idealistic, sure, but not impossible to do. My mother on the other hand, still has her "I like the finer things in life" perspective most of the time. As you can probably guess, I fall somewhere in-between. There are certain things that I go a little "la de dah" on, but there are a lot of things that I'm economical with.
Whether it's financial, emotional, spiritual, or otherwise, what's most important is that you ask yourself what you want and what you need. Then you find a way to give it to yourself. No one is going to give you a handout, nor do you deserve one either. After all, the only way we're able to give back to others is if we create our own abundance-an abundance that is somehow more than what we need to depend on.
I've heard a few mumblings of "now I'm going to have to do the same amount of work or even more for less," and "they better not take away that plan-that's the only reason why I've been here 15 years and I want it. What's 15 more?" I say welcome to corporate reality. It's like that almost everywhere. Companies are having to do more with less and stretch themselves as far as they can to make a somewhat acceptable bottom line. Not to mention, we're still lucky. Those stock options aren't worth much anyway with the market's current volatility and what company still gives their front-line employees that benefit? It's certainly been my first time getting them.
And really, our out of pocket health insurance premiums are currently some of the lowest out there-about $15 bucks a week if you're single with no dependents, including medical, dental, and vision. While I was lucky at one time to have an employer who covered 100% of those costs, I'm certainly used to paying a lot more on a lower salary. A pension plan still being there when Generation X and Y reaches retirement age? C'mon guys, how realistic is that? Don't let the illusion of that safety cushion be the reason you stick with a job (and a company) that you don't enjoy anymore. I know when I came on board five years ago, I never considered the possibility that it would still be there when I reached 65 or 67. That is, if I was even still with the company. Most of us switch jobs or even careers every two to five years anyhow.
Personally, I don't count on someone else or some outside "entity" to take care of me, financially or otherwise. That's why I have a separate IRA from the company's 401(k), an emergency savings account, and a few other personal investment accounts. Why? Because when it comes down to it, you're the only one you can be sure you can count on. This doesn't mean interdependence doesn't matter and isn't valid. However, before you go rushing out to meet everyone else's needs or lean back in your lazy recliner because someone else is dangling the promise of "I'll take care of that for you," you should stop and consider if your needs are really taken care of.
My father used to always say that material things in life didn't matter because you weren't taking any of it with you. He was right, I think. Learning simplicity and taking on the perspective that you have "more than enough" will release you from the worries that accompany materialism. A little idealistic, sure, but not impossible to do. My mother on the other hand, still has her "I like the finer things in life" perspective most of the time. As you can probably guess, I fall somewhere in-between. There are certain things that I go a little "la de dah" on, but there are a lot of things that I'm economical with.
Whether it's financial, emotional, spiritual, or otherwise, what's most important is that you ask yourself what you want and what you need. Then you find a way to give it to yourself. No one is going to give you a handout, nor do you deserve one either. After all, the only way we're able to give back to others is if we create our own abundance-an abundance that is somehow more than what we need to depend on.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Tolerance, Understanding, and Inclusion
"In the end, it is important to remember that we cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are."-Max DePree
I grew up in a conservative home. My adoptive father was a part of the World War I generation. My mother's family was originally from California, but they were entrepreneurs. Well, at least my grandfather was. And we all know that business people-especially self-made ones-tend to lean a little towards the right. I was mostly raised in the politically conservative State of Colorado and brought up under religiously conservative doctrine. Somehow my mother turned into a self-proclaimed Democrat following the divorce, after years of backing up whatever my father said. Go figure. Maybe if you're born in California you never really lose your liberal streak. There's got to be some reason why my grandparents, along with my uncle, returned there. Some underlying reason besides the warmer weather, palm trees, the ocean, and the fact that an M.D. can probably charge more for his services in San Francisco than Chicago. Perhaps I should ask.
Anyway, I've always considered myself to fall somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I agree with the "left," other times I agree with the "right." I'm a Libra-we can't really make up our minds so we choose the middle fence. We're kind of like the Switzerland of life. We're certainly not the ones you ask when you need a clear, concise, and quick decision made.
But, like most people, I can get pretty adamant about a few topics. One of them is intolerance of differences. Maybe it's my sensitivity, but I just can't fathom why someone would think that it is ok to bully someone else because they have a different belief system or lifestyle. Well, being an empath, I can understand it in a sort of vicarious sense. You do it out of fear, ignorance, or because you're unable to wrap your mind around the fact that the world really isn't black and white. You haven't considered the possibility that perception isn't in fact reality.
There have been many "minority" groups throughout history that have fought to have their voices heard, their perspectives validated, and their rights as fellow human beings recognized and accepted. None of those "groups" are one hundred percent there yet. Violence against women still exits, we hardly have "equal opportunity" and "equitable pay" when it comes to pursuing a career, misperceptions about what the role of women in society should be still exists, and we're still made to feel guilty and inadequate when we make certain choices. Racism, whether we'd like to admit it or not, still exists. This includes reverse discrimination as well. Believe me, all one has to do is live below the "Bible Belt" for awhile to witness and experience it firsthand. There are many other intolerances and misperceptions that I could elaborate on. Too many, I think.
As evolved as our American society thinks it has become, we still have a long way to go. I think that it's sad that in 2010 (almost 2011), we still have an unwillingness to not judge others. Some of us still have some sort of inner drive to punish those who don't fit into the lines of the "majority's" molding. I don't get it. It angers me. Everyone has a right to their own beliefs, their own choices, their own self-identity, their own path. They have a right to be who they are and they shouldn't be afraid to do so.
There is a thin line between expressing your opinion about someone else's existence and attempting to impose your own set of beliefs onto them-by force or exclusion. In my opinion, that act of imposition is what should not be tolerated. No one has the right to tell someone else how to think, how to feel, and what and whom they should be.
I don't know what the answer is or if there even is one. Sometimes even when you attempt to educate someone about differences and the fact that they're as natural or innate as the color of one's hair and eyes, they still don't get it. They continue to believe what they always have. They continue to uphold their perception as reality because to do otherwise would mean that they themselves might have to question who they really are.
I grew up in a conservative home. My adoptive father was a part of the World War I generation. My mother's family was originally from California, but they were entrepreneurs. Well, at least my grandfather was. And we all know that business people-especially self-made ones-tend to lean a little towards the right. I was mostly raised in the politically conservative State of Colorado and brought up under religiously conservative doctrine. Somehow my mother turned into a self-proclaimed Democrat following the divorce, after years of backing up whatever my father said. Go figure. Maybe if you're born in California you never really lose your liberal streak. There's got to be some reason why my grandparents, along with my uncle, returned there. Some underlying reason besides the warmer weather, palm trees, the ocean, and the fact that an M.D. can probably charge more for his services in San Francisco than Chicago. Perhaps I should ask.
Anyway, I've always considered myself to fall somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I agree with the "left," other times I agree with the "right." I'm a Libra-we can't really make up our minds so we choose the middle fence. We're kind of like the Switzerland of life. We're certainly not the ones you ask when you need a clear, concise, and quick decision made.
But, like most people, I can get pretty adamant about a few topics. One of them is intolerance of differences. Maybe it's my sensitivity, but I just can't fathom why someone would think that it is ok to bully someone else because they have a different belief system or lifestyle. Well, being an empath, I can understand it in a sort of vicarious sense. You do it out of fear, ignorance, or because you're unable to wrap your mind around the fact that the world really isn't black and white. You haven't considered the possibility that perception isn't in fact reality.
There have been many "minority" groups throughout history that have fought to have their voices heard, their perspectives validated, and their rights as fellow human beings recognized and accepted. None of those "groups" are one hundred percent there yet. Violence against women still exits, we hardly have "equal opportunity" and "equitable pay" when it comes to pursuing a career, misperceptions about what the role of women in society should be still exists, and we're still made to feel guilty and inadequate when we make certain choices. Racism, whether we'd like to admit it or not, still exists. This includes reverse discrimination as well. Believe me, all one has to do is live below the "Bible Belt" for awhile to witness and experience it firsthand. There are many other intolerances and misperceptions that I could elaborate on. Too many, I think.
As evolved as our American society thinks it has become, we still have a long way to go. I think that it's sad that in 2010 (almost 2011), we still have an unwillingness to not judge others. Some of us still have some sort of inner drive to punish those who don't fit into the lines of the "majority's" molding. I don't get it. It angers me. Everyone has a right to their own beliefs, their own choices, their own self-identity, their own path. They have a right to be who they are and they shouldn't be afraid to do so.
There is a thin line between expressing your opinion about someone else's existence and attempting to impose your own set of beliefs onto them-by force or exclusion. In my opinion, that act of imposition is what should not be tolerated. No one has the right to tell someone else how to think, how to feel, and what and whom they should be.
I don't know what the answer is or if there even is one. Sometimes even when you attempt to educate someone about differences and the fact that they're as natural or innate as the color of one's hair and eyes, they still don't get it. They continue to believe what they always have. They continue to uphold their perception as reality because to do otherwise would mean that they themselves might have to question who they really are.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Unexpected Connections
One of the perks of a sales and service career is that you get to interact with a lot of different people. Since I've been in a few different sales territories throughout my almost five year stint, I have to say that some offer a little more variety, spice, and colorful characters than others. Yes, I've got one of those and I love it. As with any experience though, there are certain people that we naturally bond with more than others. So when it's time to let go because they're moving on, it can feel as though a hole is opening up somewhere inside of your spirit.
"S" and I have only known each other for a few months. I remember the first day she started working at the Conoco station. It's my second to last account on Mondays and Thursdays, so by the time I get there I'm exhausted, a little dizzy, and muttering my favorite on the job saying of "it's time for a drink" for everyone to hear. Luckily, this account is one of many that lets me pick and choose "free" food and drinks if I so wish. Sometimes you've got to forget about the girly figure and go ahead and indulge in those mini-pizzas and heavily caffeinated beverages.
I knew I liked "S" from the moment I laid eyes on her. For starters, she was like a real-life version of Rory Gilmore's best friend. You know, the one with the glasses, pigtails, and who liked to play drums and rebel against her strict, traditional mother. Plus, she had on two different bright colored socks and when an awful rendition of Mellow Yellow came over the loudspeakers, she said "ok, I think I'm about to drown out his mellow yellow." For the past two months "S" and I have laughed, joked, and had a few heart to hearts. She's certainly brought some fun and life into what could be an otherwise dreadful experience. I will miss her, but one can't work at gas station wages forever. Especially when there's kids at home. Besides, we'll still run into each other here and there at a few of my other stores. I'm happy that she got what she wanted.
When I worked at Disney World under the College Program, one of my managers, whose name also began with an "S," quickly became one of those influences that you never forget. She wasn't the direct supervisor I was assigned to, but she was one of five in "Merchandise Area 28," otherwise known as The Muppet Courtyard. She was one of those managers that jumped in and did whatever they could to help. She was also one of those managers that you knew truly cared about you, because she asked whenever she got the chance. One night we were supposed to all have a nice dinner as a work group at the restaurant next door known as "Mama's." As we were closing down one of the stores, "Stage One," she asked me if I was going. I said "yes." She said "good," as she passed by. I didn't make it because I made the mistake of going back to the student apartments to change and the shuttle service couldn't make it back to MGM in time. The next day she asked "where were you last night?" She had been genuinely concerned, and it showed.
I had the opportunity to help her once. It had been a busy day in the park, the stores in the area were a mess and she needed extra help. She asked one of the other "CP" girls who was directly assigned to her to stay later. The girl said no because she had plans to go out that evening to Pleasure Island. I could see that "S" was upset, frustrated, and a little overwhelmed. I told her I had finished what she had asked me to do and if there was anything else she needed. She paused, and then asked "how about staying a little later?" I didn't hesitate. I replied firmly, "of course. What do you need?" Sighing in a mixture of relief and gratitude, the only words she said were "keep doing what you're doing." She didn't know it, but for some reason, I would've done anything to help her. She was just that kind of beautiful person on the inside that made you stop in your tracks and say "I'd like to get to know this soul."
Before I left to go back home, I gave her a card expressing my appreciation for what she did for all of us on a daily basis, along with a small gift representing her alma mater of Florida State. I still remember the smile of tears that welled up in her eyes, her voice saying "thank you," and "come here," and the hug that we gave each other. She even offered to help me look for apartments in Lakeland when she found out I was going to move there. I still have her number, but I haven't called. I guess a part of me feels like it's been too long since we last talked.
Although the passage of time can be a funny thing. The other night I logged into Facebook and accepted a friend request from someone I went to high school with. I recalled the name and the face. It was actually someone I had thought about a long time ago, but just in one of those passing thoughts. You know, the brief ones of "I wonder whatever happened to so and so." The strange thing is, I think she remembers me a lot more strongly than I remember her. She somehow found me, even though my current profile picture is of the sunset I watched go down along the shores of Maui over a year ago. Most of my info is locked, so she must've had my name burned in her memory somewhere. She said she was so excited to have found me. I think she was one of the girls who got pregnant our senior year and ended up keeping the baby. I also think she was one of the students that participated in a weekly peer support discussion gathering that we simply called "Group." It was facilitated by a professional counselor, whom I recall was a great source of strength to all of us.
I told "H" she has a beautiful family, and it's true. Her daughter is all grown up now. She has a wonderful life from what I can see. I don't remember our high school conversations or what I might've said or done to affect her, but I'm humbled that I might have. Maybe I was one of the few who listened or wasn't judgmental or offered some piece of insight she found helpful. I don't know yet, but I'm sure I'll rediscover it eventually. It doesn't really matter, of course. I'm just grateful that I was able to help in some way.
The Universe is funny in the way that it can bring us back to old connections that we might need, exactly when we might need them. She told me she loved the pictures I took in May and that I would have to let her know the next time I'm in the area. I told her I may be there soon, on a more permanent basis this time. She said that would be wonderful and she's hoping that I get good news.
I'm just smiling at the fact that I may get to be friends again with someone that I shouldn't have lost touch with in the first place. One can never really put a price on the value of rediscovered friendship or the gift of mutual support.
"S" and I have only known each other for a few months. I remember the first day she started working at the Conoco station. It's my second to last account on Mondays and Thursdays, so by the time I get there I'm exhausted, a little dizzy, and muttering my favorite on the job saying of "it's time for a drink" for everyone to hear. Luckily, this account is one of many that lets me pick and choose "free" food and drinks if I so wish. Sometimes you've got to forget about the girly figure and go ahead and indulge in those mini-pizzas and heavily caffeinated beverages.
I knew I liked "S" from the moment I laid eyes on her. For starters, she was like a real-life version of Rory Gilmore's best friend. You know, the one with the glasses, pigtails, and who liked to play drums and rebel against her strict, traditional mother. Plus, she had on two different bright colored socks and when an awful rendition of Mellow Yellow came over the loudspeakers, she said "ok, I think I'm about to drown out his mellow yellow." For the past two months "S" and I have laughed, joked, and had a few heart to hearts. She's certainly brought some fun and life into what could be an otherwise dreadful experience. I will miss her, but one can't work at gas station wages forever. Especially when there's kids at home. Besides, we'll still run into each other here and there at a few of my other stores. I'm happy that she got what she wanted.
When I worked at Disney World under the College Program, one of my managers, whose name also began with an "S," quickly became one of those influences that you never forget. She wasn't the direct supervisor I was assigned to, but she was one of five in "Merchandise Area 28," otherwise known as The Muppet Courtyard. She was one of those managers that jumped in and did whatever they could to help. She was also one of those managers that you knew truly cared about you, because she asked whenever she got the chance. One night we were supposed to all have a nice dinner as a work group at the restaurant next door known as "Mama's." As we were closing down one of the stores, "Stage One," she asked me if I was going. I said "yes." She said "good," as she passed by. I didn't make it because I made the mistake of going back to the student apartments to change and the shuttle service couldn't make it back to MGM in time. The next day she asked "where were you last night?" She had been genuinely concerned, and it showed.
I had the opportunity to help her once. It had been a busy day in the park, the stores in the area were a mess and she needed extra help. She asked one of the other "CP" girls who was directly assigned to her to stay later. The girl said no because she had plans to go out that evening to Pleasure Island. I could see that "S" was upset, frustrated, and a little overwhelmed. I told her I had finished what she had asked me to do and if there was anything else she needed. She paused, and then asked "how about staying a little later?" I didn't hesitate. I replied firmly, "of course. What do you need?" Sighing in a mixture of relief and gratitude, the only words she said were "keep doing what you're doing." She didn't know it, but for some reason, I would've done anything to help her. She was just that kind of beautiful person on the inside that made you stop in your tracks and say "I'd like to get to know this soul."
Before I left to go back home, I gave her a card expressing my appreciation for what she did for all of us on a daily basis, along with a small gift representing her alma mater of Florida State. I still remember the smile of tears that welled up in her eyes, her voice saying "thank you," and "come here," and the hug that we gave each other. She even offered to help me look for apartments in Lakeland when she found out I was going to move there. I still have her number, but I haven't called. I guess a part of me feels like it's been too long since we last talked.
Although the passage of time can be a funny thing. The other night I logged into Facebook and accepted a friend request from someone I went to high school with. I recalled the name and the face. It was actually someone I had thought about a long time ago, but just in one of those passing thoughts. You know, the brief ones of "I wonder whatever happened to so and so." The strange thing is, I think she remembers me a lot more strongly than I remember her. She somehow found me, even though my current profile picture is of the sunset I watched go down along the shores of Maui over a year ago. Most of my info is locked, so she must've had my name burned in her memory somewhere. She said she was so excited to have found me. I think she was one of the girls who got pregnant our senior year and ended up keeping the baby. I also think she was one of the students that participated in a weekly peer support discussion gathering that we simply called "Group." It was facilitated by a professional counselor, whom I recall was a great source of strength to all of us.
I told "H" she has a beautiful family, and it's true. Her daughter is all grown up now. She has a wonderful life from what I can see. I don't remember our high school conversations or what I might've said or done to affect her, but I'm humbled that I might have. Maybe I was one of the few who listened or wasn't judgmental or offered some piece of insight she found helpful. I don't know yet, but I'm sure I'll rediscover it eventually. It doesn't really matter, of course. I'm just grateful that I was able to help in some way.
The Universe is funny in the way that it can bring us back to old connections that we might need, exactly when we might need them. She told me she loved the pictures I took in May and that I would have to let her know the next time I'm in the area. I told her I may be there soon, on a more permanent basis this time. She said that would be wonderful and she's hoping that I get good news.
I'm just smiling at the fact that I may get to be friends again with someone that I shouldn't have lost touch with in the first place. One can never really put a price on the value of rediscovered friendship or the gift of mutual support.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)