Could you say "No thanks" and stay?

Have you ever taken on an obligation and realized along the way that it was not for you? But out of a sense of duty you stayed the course?  While it might strengthen your character, it could also be pretty soul-sucking.

What if there were a way, something in the culture, where you could set that burden down, that it would be ok, and you could take something else on? There would be no shame, no "I told you so", no bitterness.

What might you move on to?

In our congregations (and in many other volunteer organizations), this first part seems to be very common.  People want to be helpers, so they say yes when asked. Perhaps they know the realities of the position ahead of time, but often they agree to obligations without knowing the full extent of duties and skills required.

How often is there a graceful way to say, "You know, this is not working for me. I love the organization and want to be of service, but not in this way" instead of either suffering through a term (hopefully there is a set term, and you aren't stuck forever) or sneaking away?

For those creating the leadership systems, what check-ins can we build into our processes?

I don't have the answers...yet.  Give me a couple of decades.

One resource I am finding helpful is Connect: How to Double Your Number of Volunteers, by Nelson Searcy. While written from a very Christian point of view, it has a lot to offer Unitarian Universalists willing to do the translation.  The book provides some great infrastructure, particularly for the early stages of volunteering--giving people ways to get their feet wet and explore their gifts before they commit to something bigger than they can handle.

(To be continued...)

Ow.

I have a headache again. It's a rebound headache from the one I had yesterday, and now it's too late in the evening for the caffeine-aspirin combo I would usually have as a first resort.

One of the biggest triggers for a migraine I've found thus far is poor sleep hygeine. Not getting enough sleep, or getting off my schedule, can easily push me over the edge, and suddenly I have to take to my darkened cave.  Ugh. As much as I love a nice nap, I prefer to avoid the pain and nausea.

I could blame the time change, but really it is all on me.  I took too long and too late a nap on Sunday, then stayed up far later than I should have that night, and got up far too late on Monday. I really do know better. And yet I'm up a little late now, when I know my alarm goes off early tomorrow...

Supposedly pain makes for an excellent teacher. And yet people will put up with considerable pain rather than consider changing their habits or losing something they have.  Rational?  Not especially.

Maybe one of these days we'll grow up.
Or at least stop making the same painful mistakes.

Make it a "Birthday Week"

I am a little crazy for birthdays-they're a big deal and I believe they should all be celebrated. I have gained some slight level of maturity to recognize that we do not force others to make a big deal of their birthdays, but this Friday is MY birthday, so I can be as obnoxious as I like.

Really, I think we should get more than a day to celebrate. Especially if it is a milestone birthday. Or if your birthday is in the middle of the week, or on a day when you have lots of meetings.
It should be at least a whole weekend.  But a whole week sounds even better.

Some of the days happen before the actual anniversary of birth--a time to be mindful of the 'lasts' and to reflect on the year.  (Sort of like all the glossy year end articles and top 40 specials...) And then the big day! After, a few more days to extend the celebration to build a strong base of awesome to start the next year of one's life. (And some naps to keep rested.)

Toast

I love toast. From time to time I consider just LIVING on toast.  Me, toaster, fixins, and a big pile of books-I could read all day and never have to get off the couch!  (Yes, in my fantasy, I can move the toaster into the living room.  But not into the bedroom, because who wants to sleep on toast crumbs?)

But sometimes at the end of a busy day *I* am toast.

And not delicious golden brown toast made from artisan bread and carefully slathered in good butter and homemade jam.

Nope.  Toast that was left in too long, charred and curled up on the edges.  Then forgotten and cold.  Dry and nasty.

When I am toast, I lose my nouns and get snippy. No, not snippy.  I become a grumpy badger--desperate to be alone in my den.

The cure is not as simple as scraping off the burny bits (and to be fair, that's not really a solution for the toast I eat, either.)

Thankfully, lunch helps. A nap. Some quiet. Then silly movies and nothing especially taxing.

Tomorrow is my day off.  And I am so very glad.  A little bit of hibernation will do me good.
Maybe I'll have some toast.

Urgency! (and soup)

"Hi, Mom.  We're done with our class."
Over forty-five minutes early, across town.
This is not the phone call you want just as your lunch arrives.
SOUP!  And these adorable peppers stuffed with goat cheese...

I suppose I could have asked for it to all be packed up. But none of that is in any way road food, and I was mighty hungry.  So I took the time to finish my soup and delicious peppers. I read an article and a half. I declined dessert.

When I got across town, the kids were playing happily. Mine were far from the only ones still waiting to be picked up.

Life is full of urgency.  So many things and people and ideas demand our attention Right This Moment. Rarely, however, do they require such immediate action that you should stop eating your soup.

Things It Might Be Safe to Assume

There's a link going around right now urging us to be furious that Facebook suspended the account of a grieving mother because she posted pictures of her baby who was born with a fatal birth defect.

Here's the thing--the story happened in 2012, and Facebook apologized within a few days.

Perhaps it is more viscerally satisfying just to be enraged and hit the Share button than to stop to consider things, maybe do a little fact checking.

In my line of work, we talk a lot about "Assume Good Intentions"--basically, know that most of us are doing the best we can with what we've got.

Here are a few more I might add to the list:
Assume that not a one of us is perfect, and sometimes we just whoops.  It does not mean we are evil or irredeemable or out to get you.

Assume that people need to be told what you need.  If mindreading were especially common, we would have scientific proof of it by now.

Assume that someone else may be able to pick up your technology and make it do things you did not know it could.  (This animated .gif is kind of freaking me out.)

Assume that you don't know someone's entire story, even if they've been talking to you for years.  Almost all of us have some parts we keep hidden away.

Assume that good things may yet happen, even when everything seems like one big pile of cold wet manure. (Warm manure would at least give comfort in that one way...)

Assume that love is possible.

What's Cooking?

I have not yet kissed my slow cooker, but that's only because when it's at its most alluring, it is also blisteringly hot.

As far as I am concerned, it is alchemy. I put ingredients within, leave the house, and the next thing I know--AMAZING smells and what's that?  Dinner is mostly ready?

Even better--sometimes I load it before I go to bed.  Most delicious dreams ever. And such a feeling of accomplishment when supper is ready before anyone else in the house is even awake!

And best of all? Quicker recipes (4-6 hours) for busy Sundays--load the crockpot, go do the heavy lifting of my Sunday morning, and open the door to a lovely and hearty meal?  It's like being invited into someone else's home... but I can do this in pajamas, and fall immediately into SundayAfternoonNap.

With my trusty smart phone I can stand in the grocery store in front of sale items, looking for the

best slow cooker recipe.  That's how we ended up with Wednesday's layered dish--the base was small potatoes cut in half (cut sizes up), 12 oz. sliced mushrooms, marinated chicken drumsticks, then collards on top.  Oh my goodness.  I ended up using some of the braising liquid to make some quick lentils with veggies and we had a delicious dinner on the table before 6.

This part of the week I have a bunch of meetings and will not be home for dinners.  So I made the guys something I knew they'd find a special treat--I grabbed a picnic roast and made carnitas (Mexican shredded pork), with a pound of pinto beans at the bottom of the slow cooker-- presto- bonus bean soup.  I walked in the door late this evening and saw three beaming faces. They're not at all sad that there are plenty of leftovers. (By the way- an 8-lb bone-in roast yields eight cups of finished carnitas. That's plenty, even when there are teenagers in the house.)

So, what should my next slow cooker adventure be?