How Productive Are You?

I just spent an hour in starting to write up a list of procedures for the volunteer job I've been doing for the past ten years. I generally explain the job with just a few words, but my vacation sub has requested full instructions.

It's simple enough to list the steps. But it turns out that each step has several internal steps. Some computery, some thinking, some communicating. Some measure of the WHY needs to be included, but not so much that the document becomes unwieldy to read...

In the end it will take me longer to write and organize the how-to than my Wednesday morning shift generally takes. 

I've been making my way through Ann M. Garrido's Redeeming Administration: Twelve Spiritual Habits for Catholic Leaders in Parishes, Schools, Religious Communities and Other Institutions. Yes, it was written by a Catholic, but I am finding it a useful tool for reflection. Especially on those days when I feel like I am not accomplishing much of anything, or making much of a difference.

Through this book, and in my reflections and experiences, I'm realizing that when you're feeling unproductive, you probably are accomplishing more than you think you are. So often the things we do as a matter of course are complicated and involve a variety of skills and decision-making.

Yeehaw.

Dead Squirrel Season

I assure you, this squirrel
is neither dead nor heavenly.
He was just up on my
skylight this morning.

It's that time of year, when the adolescent squirrels are making their way in the world. On my commute I see so much roadkill.

These young furry critters spent time with their parents* and they have a certain amount of instincts, but they have precious little experience with automobiles. They dart when they should have dodged, and are flattened.

Human teenagers, I know, long for adventure, for trying out possibilities, and they are so very smart and full of hope.

What they sometimes lack, however, is the experience to consider all the possible consequences of their adventures. 

Here's where a network of trusted adults can help. The right question can nudge them to wider understandings, so they might have foresight rather than regretful hindsight. And sometimes we help develop boundaries, minimizing risks where we can, and sharing communal values that can last a lifetime. 

Growing up I was blessed to have family, teachers, and community advisers to work with me lovingly and respectfully. They let me mess up in a hundred little ways, and were there for me when I needed guidance.

And now I work with youth, helping to give them both the support and the space to make their way in the world. I know that we can never keep them all perfectly safe, but we do what we can.


*OK, I'll admit I don't know much about the family structure of squirrels. I solemnly swear that I will research that when I'm not so tired.

On Panic

            Panic drives recklessly. She speeds down the freeway in an attempt 
            to outrace her fears and numb her nerves. As she rushes to the city,
            she mutters about the accidents and the traffic and the isolation of 
            each driver safely locked inside a little machine....We are all out of                       control, pretending to be in control. 
                         -from J. Ruth Gendler's The Book of Qualities

Years ago, my early-morning freeway commute was under construction--there was this 2-mile long chute of sorts, with Jersey barriers tight on either sides. Dear Lord, it was terrifying. 

So I did the only thing I could conceive of--I hit the gas so I could get through the monstrosity as quickly as possible.

Every morning. For several months.

I never considered an alternate route.

I never considered SLOWING DOWN, so if I did scrape a barrier, it would just ding a mirror, not make big ka-bang-kaboom.

I never considered the fact that if the giant pickup truck ahead could fit, my Ford Escort was not as close to the barriers as I felt it was.

And I like to believe that I'm a rational person. But faced with these barriers, my ability to problem solve flew the coop.

Throughout these months, I don't think I ever mentioned the obstacle to anyone around me. Neither to complain nor to seek out guidance--was I addicted to the adrenaline, or that afraid to admit to a vulnerability? Probably some of both.

It was a long time ago. I've hypothetically gotten wiser over the years. 

If I drove into such a construction zone again, maybe I would figure out how to deal with it constructively. But there's a decent chance that I'd fall into less-than-optimal decision-making. 

And then I'd probably mention it on Facebook, and my friends would make some of the rational suggestions listed above. 

What do you do when you're panicked and no longer capable of using your best brain? 

Where We Connect

I hear it again and again--people grateful for General Assembly, as it's the only time of year that they see certain colleagues or friends. 

These connections are so very necessary, especially when we can feel so very alone in our everyday lives. 

And I don't just mean professionally. So many of us live hours if not days from family, and we may not see our local friends often enough either.

Yes, we live in the future--unlimited talk and text, more social media platforms than I can list... technology can be helpful, but it is still not the same as being face to face together.

I'm looking forward to heading back to my homeland next week--I haven't been there since last July. I have been dying to meet my new nephew--born in February, he is already out of the newborn stage.  And his big sister has turned four, so now she knows everything. There will be a crazy family reunion and hopefully I'll see some of my high school pals.  So much opportunity for connection.

Meanwhile, my bestie here will be packing up her house and moving a few hours away.  We're working on how NOT to be those folks who only see each other at GA. There are tamales to be made once it's cold again, and hopefully we can be compelling reasons to honor our days off. 

Any ideas for meeting spots between Austin and Houston?

Preparing for My Successor

It's that time of year in church land when people retire or move on to other endeavors, and a number of my colleagues have mentioned that they are preparing their office for the next person in the position--making sure arrangements have been made for the coming year, cleaning up what messes they can, and returning the office to a more neutral state as they move out their personal treasures and knickknacks.

I'm not going on to another position, but with three years here, I finally feel like I am coming into my own in understanding the work. So I am trying to learn from my colleagues' example, putting things in order so my August self will walk into an office that is ready.

Having conversations now and getting details nailed down so that we truly DO know what we're going to accomplish in August and September. 

Taking some time to consider where things need adjusting, poring over resources that might improve next year's program.

And there's been a lot of tidying. 

Emptying the craft baskets until the next time we need 'stained glass' chalices or pipe cleaner butterflies. Putting away the binders for a while. 

Filing.  Man, oh, man, but I dislike filing. But putting away old records and having resources organized...I know I will appreciate all of this when I return to the office.

Assuming I don't head to Montana to raise goats.

Time Math

My partner is away on business, living on Pacific Time. 
(Last week's trip was Mountain.)
My bestie and so many of my colleagues are at General Assembly, Eastern.

I was on two conference calls today--both Eastern.
Tomorrow's webinar is on Pacific.

It's great to be in conversation with a wider group of people. 
Getting new insights, Seeing what's the same all over.
No travelling required, just dial a number or click a link and you're there.

No hugs though. 
And it's always somebody's mealtime.
Where's my chocolate?

Not My Finest Moment

I stayed up until 3 AM reading a book.

It was in no way a good book, and no, there was no rush to return it to a library or anything like that.

From about 12:30 on, I was shaking my head at myself, fully aware that this was not a  good idea.

Around 2 AM I did the mental math, cringing as I realized how soon my alarm was going off.

I used to have sense and impulse control and a healthy override switch to go to bed when I was tired.

Or maybe I never did...when books were involved.