Teaching, Learning, & Life Reflections

Softness

2012-02-18T10:30:00.000-06:00

At sunset the light has a lovely, soft quality. It's golden and makes everything beautiful (in a from-the-inside-out kind of way). The special light of sunset makes me feel bathed in warmth or wrapped in a blanket of acceptance. On Thursday, I walked home during the sunset. Besides taking fun shots with my camera, I also reflected on my mood, the light, and my surroundings.

The soft, accepting light of sunset is a great model for me. It models the gentleness with which I want to hold my own heart and the hearts of others. The light at sunset is never harsh or rigid or unkind. It is soft, accepting, and generous. On days when I feel overworked or fearful or blah, it's often difficult to access that special sunset light. Yet especially on those days it's helpful for me to be gentle and accepting of myself and others.

Sharon Salzberg is a meditation teacher and expert on loving-kindness practice. She often speaks about the end-of-day-replay we do in our minds. Her spot-on comment is that we typically focus--with a laser-like beam--on the one "dumb" thing we said or the unfinished to-do item or some other negative aspect of our day. Her question: Did anything else happen today? That question is like shining the soft light of sunset on the actions of your day. What good things happened? What connections were made? What made you smile? What mistakes did you learn from? What insight (minuscule or huge) did you gain? In what small ways did you make your life or someone else's life better?

There's always some nugget of happiness, growth, kindness, or strength in every one of our days. We just need to pause and soften enough to see it. But when we do, it's bathed in sunset-quality light.

Beauty

2012-02-15T16:20:00.001-06:00

There is much beauty in the world. Beauty in big vistas and little details, in babies' small features and in wrinkled faces of those with life experience, in art and in science, in quiet moments and in excited social events. So much beauty.

In April of 2007, the Washington Post sent award-winning violinist Joshua Bell into a DC metro station during morning rush hour. Their experiment: In a banal setting at an inconvenient time, would beauty transcend? During the 43 minutes that Joshua Bell played, very few people stopped; very few people turned a head; very few people changed the rapid pace of their lives.

It's easy to let busyness interfere with our recognition and intake of beauty. Sometimes my ego convinces me, for example, that I can't stop to talk with a friend because I have so many tasks to complete or that I'm far too busy (with very important things!) to savor a sunset, meal, or conversation. Other times, when I'm centered, I make time to smell my blooming Paperwhites, fully hug my friends, drop what I'm doing when Mark has a fun suggestion, or taste all the flavors in my dinner. When I'm centered, I stop to listen to the music, whether it's Joshua Bell or a newbie busker.

The experiment by the Washington Post shows one example of how our society enables and encourages busyness. Individually and as a culture, we have many fear-based beliefs (well-ingrained in us by many different fearful questions: what if I make a mistake? what if I look stupid? what if people don't like me? what if there's something really wrong with me?) These fear-based beliefs appear in advertising and political campaigns. Somehow fear sells. Yet it feels really yucky--it's not a comfy place to inhabit. So we just busy ourselves more.

I think freedom comes from sitting with our fear and becoming curious about it; making space for it and realizing it doesn't overwhelm us. In fact, we have plenty of time to listen to the music or our children or ourselves. Working from a love-based belief system naturally opens beauty to us all. We see beauty instead of danger. We see hope instead of fear. Yet it's a challenging process, especially in the face of the many cultural influences that encourage busyness. (Big sigh!) Challenging, but well worth the effort, as freedom brings authenticity, connection, and peace. It fills our lives and spirits with much beauty.

Irish Music (& the Human Spirit)

2012-02-11T14:29:00.001-06:00

Mark is a fiddle player (among many other things). Every Tuesday night, a group of musicians meets at McGuinness Irish Pub to play Irish tunes (and even sing some songs). Sometimes the group is as few as 2-3 people and other nights the group is 10+ with multiple people on each instrument. Regardless of the size of the group, the result is the same: toe-tapping, hoot-inspiring Irish music. And it comes solely from the joy of playing. This is no gig or performance--it's an Irish session where players gather to share, learn, & collaborate on Irish tunes. It's informal and go-with-the-flow. Pints are sipped, music is played, and stories are shared. Everyone leaves feeling better than they did upon arrival--such is the power of music.

Whenever I have exams or assignments to grade, I take them to McGuinness. I often feel overwhelmed when I first view a stack of 34 exams. Yet in the cozy environs of the back-room session, nothing is overwhelming. In fact, everything is just fine. I grade a few pages, play a little percussion on the table, grade a few more pages, hoot at the end of a song, grade a few more pages, and share a laugh with the group. Music can bring out the best in people--it lightens our mood, makes us want to dance, & opens our hearts. And bless those hearts of all the Irish session folks who make my grading much more pleasant--actually make everything more pleasant.

Creativity & The Fine Line

2012-02-05T20:52:00.000-06:00

This weekend Mark and I were in Door County for his company's annual get-together (very little work & much play). We spent part of Saturday at a magical place called Hands On Art Studio. It's a space for genuine reflection and authentic creation. Although I was initially overwhelmed by the options in the Jewelry Cafe, I took my time and slowly put together a bracelet. It was pure fun, with no judgment or doubt.

There's often a fine line between enjoyable, creative activities and harsh, get-things-done tasks. If I'm not mindful, I can easily move from one side of the line to the other. For example, my photography is generally a flow activity for me--completely enjoyable and creative. But when it comes to processing photos on the PC, I can easily fall into get-everything-done-now mode (and sometimes I even yell at the computer). In my life, there are many examples of the Fine Line: thoughtful class preparation turned to micro-managed handouts; playful digging in the dirt turned to must-completely-redo-my-entire-garden-right-now; heartfelt card writing turned to a check-list slog.

Many times I begin an activity with positive intentions and creative energy, yet find myself stuck in ego and judgement by the end. If I'm really aware, then I can see the Fine Line from one side or the other (pull the plug just a little early or just a little late, and everything is fine). Mark and I have started asking each other, "Are you still having fun?" anytime one of us is at the computer. It's a lovely reminder question that we forget to ask ourselves once we're churning away. In fact, that's a great question for me right this moment! I'll walk my talk by ending this blog post while I'm still having fun. Just as I did Saturday at the Jewelry Cafe:

Community

2012-02-01T14:38:00.001-06:00

There's a lovely spot in Appleton called Harmony Cafe. The physical space is beautiful & welcoming, the food is yummy, and atmosphere is varied (e.g., quiet, bustling), yet always comfortable. One of the many things I love about Harmony is its "Check it at the Door Declaration." A few examples from this declaration: "I believe that every person is a treasure worthy of dignity & respect," "I realize that it is natural for people to be uncomfortable with those who are different from themselves, but I will work to overcome these feelings," and "I pledge to check my biases and my temptation to pre-judge people at the door." There you have it: check it at the door (with full understanding of the difficult nature of emotions) or don't come in. That's a real sense of community. We look different, we believe different things, we have different interests, and we make different decisions, yet we're all people worthy of love & respect.

I think a lot about spaces and how they make me feel. For example, do I feel happy? Do I feel safe? Do I feel scared? Do I feel comfy? Do I feel cold? There's a host of questions to ask. In my house, I've created many safe, comfy spaces, including my "nest" in the living room. After I travel, I always look forward to coming home; it is a haven. But it's taken me many years to determine what makes the space fun, interesting, and happy for me. I've also made changes to my office, trying to create the same feel as my living room--that is, I want my office to be a comfortable place of work for me and a safe, inviting space for students.

Harmony Cafe definitely has a good vibe. It's a place where I can quietly drink tea, or listen to good music while I grade assignments, or have an open-hearted conversation over lunch with a friend. Harmony provides a great space for the whole Fox Valley community.

The word "community" also makes me think of all the special people in my life. It's taken me a while, but I now fully realize the impact (positive & negative) of the people in my life, and that I have choices about who I surround myself with (what an empowering realization). I'm blessed to have many wonderful friends. People who inspire me, make me laugh, tell me hard truths, love me unconditionally, support me, and play with me. Yesterday I had lunch at Harmony with one of those dear friends, and we had a blast.

Self Portraits

2012-01-28T11:15:00.001-06:00

Last week I wrote about wholeness. In fact, most of my recent writings have touched on authenticity in some way. Through meditation, self-reflection, creativity, connection with loved ones, and play, I'm much more in touch with my authentic self. I'm living my life more from the inside out. But, lest I think I have all my sh*t together, I was confronted with something new and scary this week: self portraits.

In my photography class, Susannah Conway encouraged us to use self portraiture as a means of going within, of connecting with our souls. For the first two days, my camera sat still. This was a hard one for me. Interestingly, I enjoy having my picture taken if I'm in a group or surrounded by loved ones (in fact, I routinely have people takes shots of me with my friends & family, as these are the pictures I want all over my house). But when it came to turning the camera on myself, I hesitated. As much work as I've done to love myself unconditionally, there was still a barrier. Am I worthy of a self portrait? What about all my physical flaws? Am I really, truly comfortable in my own skin?

At first I went with reflection self-portraits (in mirrors, windows, etc.). These are actually easy for me, as they feel creative rather than intimate. I'm still hiding some of myself. It was the arm's-length portraits that felt more intimate and in which I felt more vulnerable. But I did it. I've taken many "selfies" this week, many of which I won't share with others. It's really the process that matters to me. (Ah, isn't that the true nature of most things?) I started slowly, and then I dove in, taking arm's-length shots of different expressions and in different light. Some of the photos were difficult for me to view--they struck the I'm-not-good-enough cord. Yet I allowed myself to really look at them before deleting. And other photos actually seemed to express my inner self.

So the week began with fear, yet that morphed into curiosity, creativity, and acceptance. From Susannah to the class: "My dearest wish for you this week is to create an image of yourself that you like. It doesn't have to be The Best Self Portrait Ever--just one that you can look at and quietly say: I like this one." This quotation is about self portraiture, but it also applies to life. What if each week we looked inside ourselves (at the happy, sad, playful, embarrassing, real stuff), and accepted something new: I really like ____ about me. What a wonderful wish for us all.

Wholeness

2012-01-21T13:52:00.001-06:00

In my living room, I have a "nest." It's a big, comfy chair with a fleece quilt. Next to my nest is a table that holds my current stack of reading. And under the table is my craft box and another box that contains my journals and assorted comforts. Right now my stack of reading is a book of lovely photographs (A Year of Mornings), and two other books that currently speak to my heart: Ordinary Sparkling Moments by Christine Mason Miller and A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer. These latter two books focus on authenticity, wholeness, creativity, and listening to your true inner voice (not the habituated, judgmental ego voice).

From Parker Palmer: "The strongest evidence for true self comes from seeing what happens when we try to live as if we did not have one." I hear you, buddy! For many years a denied my true self. Of course, parts of it peaked out now and then, but I didn't live my life intentionally. I lived my life completely focused on externals: Do people like me? Have I achieved enough? Am I good enough in other people's eyes? Am I thin enough? Do I work out enough? Will I get tenure? Do my students and colleagues respect me? Shouldn't I do more, achieve more, help more, entertain more, in order to be lovable?

That was a very difficult place to inhabit. Although I still struggle to live each moment authentically, I do live more moments authentically, and it's much easier for me access my centered, whole, true self. And to trust I can always get back there, no matter what happens. This all takes great mindfulness. In the beautiful words of Mary Oliver ("Low Tide"): "This is the first, wildest, and wisest thing I know, that the soul exists, and that it is built entirely out of attentiveness" [emphasis mine].

To access my true self, I must allow for many things: space, solitude, creativity, awareness, connection, and reflection. And trust. Trust in myself, my wholeness, my goodness. This all takes great (HUGE) attentiveness. Some days it's there, and other days are a whirlwind of busyness. But every day is a blessing--a new experience from which I can learn and become more whole.

A close friend of mine gave me a beautiful angel with lovely reminder phrases on it (e.g., "Unleash your joy" "Be yourself" "Embrace vulnerability"). I keep it in my office, and whenever I look at it, I smile:

PS I previously blogged a funny story about my Real Self.

Hibernation AND Color?

2012-01-15T14:10:00.000-06:00

Winter brings reduced daylight and temperature, and thus is a natural time for hibernation. I often welcome this hibernation. (Well, I've learned to make peace with the winter, and healthful hibernation is part of this peace.) It's a time when I sleep more, make fewer plans, eat hearty soups & bread, travel less, and generally try to slow down. These are all lovely things. Yet it's also possible (likely?) for healthful hibernation to turn into a general feeling of "blah."

This week in photography class we worked on light, color, pattern, & texture. In particular, I thought much about color--not just in photography, but in my life. When healthful hibernation turns into ugh (perhaps because of lack of light and too much pattern), then we can look for color & texture. These are the things that not only make photos pop, but they make our lives pop. They give us a little skip in our step during a dreary January day.

What I speak of is a balance (as is most of life). A balance between {hibernation, slowing down, & nurture} and {color, celebration, & creation}. So my new peace with winter includes not only embracing hibernation, but also purposefully looking for and creating rich color & texture around that hibernation: sleeping & dancing, cooking & eating out (even on a week night!), moping & taking a long walk, self-reflection & connection with others, slowing down & enjoying myself. We'll see how the journey proceeds. (Check back with me at the end of February. :))

Winter Warmth

2012-01-10T20:38:00.002-06:00

Winter can be cold in Wisconsin. Recently (before the spell of lovely weather), I thought of how I stay warm during winter. There are practical ways: bundle up, wear warm (and fun) scarves & hats, layer, and make frequent use of our hot tub. Oh, and make yummy soups & chili (I LOVE a wholesome, homemade soup in winter). But there are also emotional and spiritual ways to stay warm. While I appreciate the natural hibernation winter provides (& the self reflection that comes with it), I know a key component of my soul is connection with people. Hugs, sharing, eating a meal together, listening, laughing, and dancing are some examples of true warmth--whether it be with best friends or new acquaintances. That's the warmth that sustains us through a Wisconsin winter (and through any difficult time).

Mark and I have talked about making from-scratch cinnamon rolls together. In fact, this event made my Life Menu. On the afternoon of December 30, we spent 3 hours preparing the rolls. It was a dreary day outside, but our house smelled like rising dough, and we warmly worked in the kitchen. The next morning, we had YUMMY (from-scratch!) cinnamon rolls for breakfast. What was even more special was the sharing. The recipe made tons of rolls. My tummy could only fit two. So we boxed up the rest, and on our way to the Farmer's Market, we dropped off cinnamon rolls with any of our friends who were home. Oh, and we even caught our mail person on his route.

This experience was fun, creative, yummy, special, soul-filling, and connected. It was warm. And also a lovely reminder of how to bring sunshine into any day.

White Space

2012-01-07T12:19:00.000-06:00

I'm taking a wonderful online photography class, Photo Meditations, from Susannah Conway. During the first week, we're learning about and experimenting with composition. One of the (many) compositional elements is white space (or negative space). From Susannah: "The negative space gives the viewer’s eye a place to rest while supporting the main subject." A place to rest.

What about the white space in our daily lives? Where in our schedules do we allow rest, reflection, restoration, or simply space to breathe deeply? When I feel assaulted by life, it's a good reminder to make some white space. To truly allow for life to happen; for life to interrupt. When I feel overscheduled, I get annoyed when life happens. There's just not enough space & softness in which I can rest & release--both into the difficulties of life and the joys of life.

My mind is really active during the first week of the term. And my schedule is typically busy, too. But this weekend I have space. I'm grateful for the gentle reminder that space is needed--a place for my mind, body, & spirit to rest. In fact, I'll end here, so I can treat myself to a nap!

Belonging

2012-01-03T21:22:00.001-06:00

It's human nature to want to be liked and to belong. This is something with which I struggle. I want people to like me--in fact, to love me. I want this from my family, friends, students, and colleagues. Yet when I push for this--that is, external affirmations rather than internal centeredness--I lose sight of my authenticity.

In his book, The Courage to Teach, Parker Palmer openly talks about a class where he fervently tried to engage one particular student; and in doing so, he lost his focus and the bigger-picture of learning. He lost the entire class by focusing on being liked by one student. Such is the human condition. And, as a teacher who really wants my students to learn (and to respect and like me!), I can relate.

Recently I read an interview with Desmond Tutu. When asked about the trait he least likes about himself: the fact that he loves to be loved. Yes, that external validation is SO alluring. Our egos can turn it into the reality--the thing for which we must strive. But, when we constantly search for okay-ness outside of ourselves, we actually lose our connection. That is, authentic connection is a very different thing from belonging.

Connection comes from a deep self-awareness that we are okay just the way we are. When we are connected (to others & to ourselves), we believe in our basic goodness. When we long to be loved, we doubt our basic goodness. True connection is filling; the search for belonging is depleting.

Every day, I walk the path between wanting to be loved and knowing in my heart I am okay. When I'm mindful, I fully understand that trusting my authentic self actually leads to more connection, more learning, more loving, & more happiness. I know this in my heart, yet I must continue to remind myself. Such is the life path--a path on which I'm grateful to travel, and on which I know I have much (connected) company.

New Holiday Tradition

2011-12-31T17:11:00.001-06:00

Mark & I have been more purposeful about our donations to charities in the last few years. Instead of giving small amounts of money to many different organizations, we give larger amounts to making-a-direct-impact places. (And we still donate to any family member or friend who raises money for a good cause--that's always a nice feel-good connection.)

Our transition began 4 years ago at Lawrence's alternative giving fair, where two students of mine, Oliver & Rebecca, talked about their project: Caneille Regional Development Fund. These were college students deeply committed to providing education, nutrition, & basic needs in an impoverished region of Haiti (in fact, Oliver began the project as a high school student). Oliver & Rebecca are inspirational people who make a real difference in this world. And their generosity motivated me & Mark to rethink our giving. (BTW, they are now doing wonderful things in the Peace Corps, and they blog about the experience.)

This year, Mark & I started a new tradition. Instead of buying each other Christmas gifts, we each researched and chose 3 charities to which we will give money. Then, during dinner on December 23, we shared the stories of our charities and why we chose them. It was a heart-opening, interesting, perspective-forming, happy evening. The small worries of our lives quickly faded after hearing about the great work these charities do for people in serious need. We're giving monetary donations, but it's really us who receive the gift. It's our new holiday gift-giving tradition.

In case you're interested, here are the 6 charities we chose this year:

Pearl S. Buck International (sponsorship helps provide education, health care, & counseling to at-risk children in third-world countries)

Charity:water (100% of donations go to water projects, bringing clean water to people in need; and there are many--estimates say 1 billion--people who desperately need clean water)

Harmony Cafe (an Appleton cafe that embraces music & arts, but more importantly provides wonderful programming and a safe space for all; their check-it-at-the-door policy is spot on--I wish the whole world had this policy)

Freedom from Hunger (through micro-loans and the empowerment of women, this organization provides sustainable solutions to the world hunger problems)

Heifer International (provides people a sustainable source of food and income, yet with training, animal well-being, and a pass-on-the-gift requirement that animal offspring go to another family in need)

Caneille Regional Development Fund (because this is where our giving process began and because they continue to do such making-a-difference, great work)

HUGE thanks to all the people working hard for the many worthy charities across the globe.

Quality Time

2011-12-22T10:31:00.001-06:00

During the holiday season we often think about gifts to give the special people in our lives. These dark days of December are a cozy time to reflect on all the blessings in our lives, and perhaps particularly on the people in our lives. I purposefully (& with deep gratitude) surround myself with people who energize, accept, inspire, understand, & love me. Sometimes, I find a special gift to give these dear ones. But gifts are not something I force. In fact, an inauthentic gift does not reflect how deeply I value my loved ones. Yet what I can always give & give authentically is quality time: time when I'm fully present for and open hearted with the special people in my life.

Last weekend, I took my dad to San Antonio for the women's volleyball final four. (This was a surprise birthday&Christmas gift for him, and it was SO much fun to make it all work.) The trip was an excellent example of quality time. While in San Antonio, we were in the moment and we truly enjoyed each others' company. This was a special gift for both of us.

It's interesting that during the holidays our culture is focused on gift giving and socialization, yet many of us feel exhausted by it all; perhaps because it's not quality time, but rushed obligation or habituated internal expectations. Yet if we make just a little space, this can be a natural time for reflection. As Mary Oliver asks in "The Summer Day": "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

Maybe we can give ourselves & others the gift of open-hearted presence--a gift of quality time.

Reset Button

2011-12-08T11:36:00.001-06:00

In early November, Mark and I attended a meditation retreat in Madison lead by teachers Cheri Maples and Sharon Salzberg. After months of prioritizing the "doing" part of me, I allowed myself to reacquaint and develop the "being" part of me. What a welcome relief! This was a lovely reset button for my soul.

I found myself reflecting on the teachings and the retreat experience as I reimmersed in busy academic life. For example, a typical distraction from the present moment (and the sometimes difficult emotions and feelings we experience there) is to ruminate on the past or plan obsessively for the future. Sharon told a story about someone who missed an airline flight, and then constructed an elaborate plan about what would happen for the rest of the travel day, ending with the person in despair about whether a cab could be found at midnight in Portland. (We can all imagine ourselves constructing similar stories in a variety of situations.) As Sharon says, we can lose ourselves in the future, OR we can choose to stay in the present and simply remind ourselves, "something will happen." What a great reminder. I gently said this phrase ("and then something will happen") to myself each time I found myself lost in a story of the future (e.g., how will I wrap up my courses? what exactly will my students learn? how will the students feel about the course?).

If we cultivate the practice of being, then we're more mindful of the gaps--e.g., the gap between experiencing a situation and responding to it, the gap between intention and action, or the gap between emotion and speech. If we allow for it, there are many gaps throughout our day, and we can decide how to mind those gaps most skillfully (as skillfully as we can in that moment).

During loving-kindness meditation, phrases (rather than the breath) are the focus of concentration. These phrases (e.g., may I be safe, may I be happy, may I be healthy, may I live with ease) are repeated for ourselves, then a benefactor, then a good friend, then a neutral person, then a difficult person, and then to all beings. (There are actually many different ways to do loving-kindness meditation). At the Madison retreat, we spent time both in seated meditation and walking meditation. Some of the walking meditation was done outside. Mark commented that it's really easy to send loving-kindness to ducks (how true!):

Duck or no duck,

May you be safe,

may you be happy,

may you be healthy,

may you live with ease.

The Little Things

2011-10-23T14:01:00.000-05:00

Last April, during a visit to my sister's family, my brother-in-law asked if I wanted ornamental grass for my garden (they planned to split one of their plants). I love plant sharing, especially of perennials. So I enthusiastically said, "yes," yet I didn't have the energy to go dig up the grass. That is, I assumed it wouldn't happen that weekend. Yet when we left, a box of grass-root clumps was in the back of our van, thanks to the thoughtfulness of my brother-in-law. This ornamental grass then made its way into my garden, and it's a lovely addition.

Of course, ego must sneak into this story (it always does, right?). I think the grass is beautiful on its own, but a little voice inside complained that it didn't bloom (that's the ego/meanie voice). Blah-blah-blah I said, but still the voice occasionally nagged. Then just last weekend, THE GRASS BLOOMED! It's a late bloomer, but it blooms. That made me enormously happy, because 1) I wasn't expecting it, and 2) I love blooming grass. So phllpht! to ego. And yay! to small, happy moments. Honestly, it's those small, yet beautiful moments that make me happiest of all.

My blooming grass:

Lovely Reminder

2011-10-16T11:53:00.000-05:00

Each fall, I get caught in the busyness of the new academic year. This initially comes from a positive place: students bring excited, happy energy into the classroom. I'm energized by them and by my own creative plans for my courses. The first week is magic--it's exhausting, but deeply fulfilling (reminds me why I love my job). Gradually, though, the busyness takes a turn. In fact, it's not the external busyness, but my own internal busyness--the busyness of ego, unrealistic expectations of myself, and the need for control.

Whenever I feel vulnerable, control is my go-to habit. Yet it's a cage; it clips my wings. So I've developed some new, more freeing--yet not as familiar--habits to replace the cage. But what happens when my vulnerability is ramped up? I not surprisingly revert back to familiar--if unhealthful--habits. This has been the back and forth of my days and weeks. Sometimes I quickly realize my need for a genuine pause to recenter; other times I plow through the day without a single deep breath. Such is the work of creating a new habit.

Quality time with my nieces and nephews always brings me back to my authentic self. Being with them allows me to easily access mindfulness, joy, perspective, and play. These are things I always carry with me, but sometimes (like in the middle of the term) I need a reminder. I got that pleasant reminder last weekend.

Yay for that! And yay for cookie monster cupcakes:

Life Menu (of Awesome!)

2011-10-02T20:01:00.003-05:00

I'm near the end of a path-finder e-course offered by Karen Walrond, who is all sorts of fabulous. (Really, go to her website and try not to fall in love with her spirit--it's not possible.) She's had us generate a love list, light words, a vision board, a word of the year, and--most recently--a Life Menu of Awesome. There are two things I like about that last label: 1) it's not a "list" that must be done or fodder for ego/nasty-voice punishment, and 2) it has the word "awesome" in it, which just makes me smile. So this is a menu of soul-filling ideas from which I can pick and choose, complete or not complete, add and delete. And it's awesome to boot (big grin)!

Karen suggested we make our Life Menu public, if for no other reason than to generate energy and connections around the ideas. So here goes...

Joy's Life Menu (of Awesome!), in no particular order

Dance on all seven continents

Add a new perennial to my garden each year

Treat each of my nieces and nephews to a special trip at college graduation

Attend 10 NCAA women's volleyball Final Fours with my dad

[Count so far: 3 Final Fours (Madison, New Orleans, & San Antonio)]

Write a book

Learn a new star constellation every year and view it regularly

Take an improvisation class

Spend time in 25 national parks

Create and carry out Story-Corps type interviews with 20 people (my dad first!)

Attend 50 meditation retreats

[Count so far: 3]

Hug 1,000 different people (this will start from scratch upon the date of my choosing)

[Start-from-scratch date: October 9, 2011; Different Hugs as of January 10, 2012: 80]

Create and hang an exhibition of my photography

Go sky-diving with Mark

Spend a day in the winter making frosted sugar cookies with Mark (and whoever else wants to join us)

Go on a hot-air balloon ride with my nieces and nephews

Go backpacking in Idaho with Andrew & Jen

Visit Todd, Katherine, and kiddos in San Francisco

~~Make from-scratch cinnamon rolls with Mark~~

[ On December 31, 2011 we made "Cinnamon Rolls with Irish Cream Glaze" from

The Bread Bible; they were YUMMY!]

Take a photo of myself every day for a year

Take a destination trip with Krista, Kristin, and Sarah for our 50th birthdays

Learn one joke really well

Have a big party to celebrate when Mark & I turn 50 AND we've been married 20 years (happens near the same time)

Host a pumpkin-carving party

Participate in a drum circle

Vacation in New Zealand with Mark

Have Mark read aloud to me 50 short stories

Anonymously post 100 signs/sayings/fliers of kindness in obscure--but viewed--places

Dance at 50 ceilidhs (or barn dances)

[ Count so far: 7]

Travel to Haiti with Oliver & Rebecca, see their project in action, roll up my sleeves, and help

Identify and organize a creative circle

Write notes of kindness to friends and then hide them in their houses

~~Give at least $1000 to grass-roots charities every December~~

[Well, this isn't yet a completed item, but we did it in 2011 and it's now a tradition

(stay tuned)]

Hold a koala bear

Cook with Heidi Swanson

Attend another Canadian step-dancing camp

Swim with dolphins

Have a conversation with Barack & Michelle Obama

Perform with Mark in front of an audience (me: step dancing; Mark: fiddling)

See Dar Williams in concert

Dance or meditate in a really large group (say 1000s)

Find a comfy group of women with whom I can have fun playing indoor volleyball doubles

Volunteer to hold babies at the hospital

Take an 8-week Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction class

Have my toes painted 12 different colors in a year

[ December; Days of Wine & Roses (deep purple, in honor of my friend, Kathy)

January: Break of Dawn (sparkly red/pink)

February: stay tuned]

Take a 24-hour technology break once a week for a year

Bring Steph to Lawrence as faculty, if only for a short-term visit

Take an away-from-home vacation alone and luxuriate in my own company

Spend a week at an Ayurvedic retreat center

Have 100 meals, happy hours, or visits with friends in a single year

Take a purposeful trip to the Southwest with a trusted spiritual guide

Real Self

2011-10-02T12:23:00.002-05:00

Last week was up and down. Some days I felt completely connected, real, and free. Other days I felt obsessed by externals and allowed ego to drive my actions. And some days were a mix of both (ah, as is much of life :)). I pushed hard at work on Friday, but then relaxed into a wonderful evening of delicious food, great beer, and tap-your-toes music. Saturday began leisurely. Then was filled with emotion, support, friendship, and sharing at the Down Syndrome Awareness walk in Neenah. (Bless you, Madeline Mae, for bringing us all together.) But then ego hooked me again, and I raced right from the lovely walk to hours of errands.

I know, what was I thinking? Well, I can tell you what my ego/non-truth-telling voice was saying: "If you complete all these errands now, then you'll be okay, and you can relax tomorrow." But wait! My fear-based ego voice never lets me relax. There's never a time I'll have everything wrapped up. So, again, why did I listen yesterday? Who knows. Perhaps because I was filled with difficult emotions. Or maybe it was just old habit.

The good news is I more quickly realize when I'm in the throes of non-stop doing (with little being and feeling). Yay! I realize it. Yesterday that aha moment came at the grocery store. I took out my grocery list and on the list I saw "real self." I paused for a moment--did Mark find my list and add "real self" as a reminder for me? No, this was my writing. But I didn't purposely write it. YET, it seemed so poignant: of course I should find my real self at the grocery store--why wait another second?

Then I recognized what I actually wrote: "Real Salt" (it's my salt brand of choice). I laughed out loud in the produce aisle. In fact, I couldn't stop chuckling during the whole grocery run. And, in that process, I did actually find my real self.

[Here's a picture of my real self playing an arcade game when my nephew visited in July.]

Reflection

2011-09-17T10:37:00.000-05:00

Self-reflection is an integral part of my life. It allows me to walk a more authentic and sustainable path. Reflection, in general, is something we educators promote. Reflection about what has been learned, how it ties together, and how it applies more broadly. This type of reflection, which can be applied to academic topics, is actually useful in all aspects of our lives.

Yet true reflection requires space. We need space to breathe,to listen inwardly, and to connect with that place in ourselves that speaks--perhaps only whispers--our genuine longings, needs, feelings, and insights. Interestingly, though, that space need not be grandiose or sacred or for a long period. Sometimes I sabotage my own self-reflection by thinking it requires hours of time or can only be done in a certain location (the list of reasons goes on). In its simplest form, reflection merely requires I pay attention to my breath (or body or mind or feelings), perhaps only for 1 minute.

So easy to forget at the beginning of an academic year. This first week was filled with magical energy, connections with students, important conversations, laughter, creative pedagogical work, and worthwhile gatherings of the Lawrence community. Yet I also spent very long hours at the office with minimal reflection. But here's the great news: I can start again today. Hurray! Everything hasn't gone to hell simply because I didn't reflect as much as I wanted during the first week of school (oh, the stories we tell ourselves).

I celebrate self-reflection in all its different forms. And I celebrate the ability to start anew each and every day.

Pathways

2011-08-20T12:56:00.001-05:00

Life is so many things: fascinating, scary, happy, sad, surprising, boring, refreshing, exciting, overwhelming, peaceful. When I'm truly curious about my life path--my ways of engaging and distracting, my stuckness or my forward movement--then I typically see most clearly. When I get stuck, it's often (always?) because I avoid difficult feelings. Even though--through much experience--I know it's most healing to allow and process a difficult emotion, I often choose to distract myself. I distract to the point where my mind, body, and spirit say "hey! let's just work with the fear/hurt/grief/sadness/shame, because this aversion is so much worse." That's when I come back to myself. That's when I'm most authentic.

Last May I attended a meditation retreat lead by Cheri Maples. In one of her dharma talks, Cheri discussed her "Fears Chart," which explains the way in which many of us get stuck--avoiding difficult emotions rather than approaching them. Her worded descriptions speak directly to my heart:

Put another way, by insightful poet Danna Faulds:

The Path to Freedom

What is the path to freedom here?

The answer is clear the moment

that I ask. At every fork in the road,

there is a conditioned response

and one that is unpatterned, bold,

and free. The old, known way is

more comfortable, but the other

path holds mystery and wonder.

Cheers to mystery and wonder! May life always be full of them.

Magical Moments

2011-07-10T20:10:00.000-05:00

Sometimes magical things happen. Not magical in a big, spectacular way, but magical in a soft, soul-filling way--as if the Universe specifically gives me a boost when I really need it, yet actually that boost is always there (just like Dorothy's ruby slippers).

Sometimes a bee lands on a flower just before I take the picture:

Or two of my closest friends (on separate days) say things that both rock my world and prod me to see more clearly. And this leads me to take a terror-barrier leap (my therapist's term) into the unknown; a leap that is true to my soul yet comes with an emotional hangover. But then the magical moment of realizing I'm okay! That I'm worthy of loving myself fully and unabashedly (wow!). Then I share my feelings with another close friend and she understands in a visceral way--a connection that comforts me deeply.

Or I put on a bright summer dress and go out to dinner with my husband and our best friends, where we share, laugh, eat good food, and celebrate. We celebrate the little things, because that's what all of life is about.

Or Mark gives me a long, wrapped-in-love hug and I linger in that safe space. Or we share a wholesome, yummy, home-cooked meal while on our back porch--always stopping conversation to savor the food or watch the chipmunks. Or Mark says something that makes me laugh out loud--especially good if I'm in a funk and I laugh at myself.

Or Mark whimsically snaps two photos of me at which I don't cringe, but I look at and think, "yes, that is me and there's nothing to hide":

Imperfection (Yes!)

2011-06-23T11:35:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I get lost in the story that I can "wrap up life." For example, I daydream about ALL my yard and house projects being done or about going to a meditation-yoga-Ayurveda-cleanse retreat for weeks, where I achieve enlightenment (and the angels sing!). When I recognize the daydream, I quickly realize these "wrap up" events won't make me happy and the daydream itself causes me much suffering. And then I chuckle. Because it's so easy to get hooked by the and-then-everything-will-be-okay thinking.

From a very early age I tried to be "perfect" (I purposefully use quotation marks, because I think perfection is impossible--unless, perhaps, I think of it as perfectly imperfect). This coping mechanism brought me much achievement and success (and also caused me suffering). Occasionally I sense that people (e.g., students) might actually think I am perfect--that everything is bliss in my life. Yet it's important for us all to know that no one is perfect; everyone struggles; everyone makes mistakes. And that's okay!

In fact, I'll use myself as an example, and talk about some ways I am not perfect:

I sometimes yell at the computer (in fact, I just did this morning).
Every so often I check if a large bag of M&Ms and Internet retail therapy can bring me true happiness. [Note: It doesn't, but I keep checking.]
Sometimes I look in the mirror and am horrified by what I see.
I can be cranky (really, truly--ask Mark).
I am a vegetarian who still uses leather (one example of the contradictions in some of my beliefs).
I sometimes use unkind speech (this is especially true with myself--my inner voice can be self-critical and hateful).
My yard is filled with weeds.
I don't keep up with outside house projects (e.g., dealing with peeling paint on windows).

I feel shame.
I'm often filled with doubt and second-guessing when at the grocery store.
Sometimes I talk too much and don't mindfully listen.
I can be judgmental.
I often try to control things over which I actually have no control.
I use the machines at the YMCA for more than 30 minutes, even though it's clearly posted that 30 minutes is the limit.
Occasionally I overeat and drink too much wine.
Vanity sometimes stops me from wearing a bike helmet (e.g., if my hair is wet, and I don't want helmet-hair).
I want everyone to like me (and occasionally lose my authenticity because of this completely-out-of-my-control goal).

The good news: given all these (and more) imperfections, I love myself more each day and recognize more quickly when I'm hooked by unhealthy thinking and doing. I'm imperfect, and that's okay. In fact, we're all imperfect, and that's okay. From wise meditation teacher, Pema Chodron: "Awakeness is found in our pleasure and our pain, our confusion and our wisdom, available in each moment of our weird, unfathomable, ordinary everyday lives." Here's to thoroughly enjoying our lives, whatever the day brings.

Inner Strength

2011-06-16T18:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I spotted this lovely weed in a shady spot between my house and a bench. I admire its fortitude--making its way in a tight spot with no sun, yet growing and flowering all the same. Sometimes I'm in a dark, tight spot, yet I don't feel like growing; instead I hide, from myself and others. But more often when I'm in that same dark space, I do allow myself to feel, grow, speak, share, and eventually flower. That comes from a place of inner strength--a belief in my authentic nature (in me, just as I am). It's interesting how quickly ego slips into those dark spaces and whispers nasty things in my ear. The inner strength comes from listening to my true self (oh, and ego is so wily that sometimes it creatively disguises itself as my true self). This is a lifelong journey. And there are plenty of bumps along the way. But then I see an isolated, yet beautiful flowering weed, or I see a wildflower (below) that finds its way amongst a big group of seeds and plants, and I'm inspired. I smile to myself and think, "yes, dear, you too are lovable just as you are."

Blossoming

2011-06-08T16:00:00.001-05:00

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." What a beautiful and powerful statement from Anais Nin.

Life is often paradoxical. Experientially, I know I'm more content, authentic, and happy if I routinely allow for and explore the full range of emotions (including sadness, shame, hurt, and fear). Yet my well-grained habit is to push away these difficult emotions--to "remain tight in a bud" rather than blossom. And this tightness creates such suffering in my life--much more suffering than the risk of letting go into my authentic self.

So I gently remind myself of this every day. And each day a let go a little more.

Dandelions (Part 2)

2011-06-04T15:56:00.000-05:00

Two weeks ago, I wrote about my pretty yellow dandelions. This morning at breakfast, while Mark and I ate blueberry pancakes on the back porch, we talked about our aversion to dandelions once they leave the yellow stage. So typical of human nature--it's hard to see the beauty in something all the time, at all stages of growth. This afternoon, I went in search of that beauty. And, yes indeed, it's there. It always is.

Perspective

2011-06-03T12:39:00.000-05:00

At a recent meditation retreat, my teacher talked about the "stories" in our lives. For example, there is an event, which is followed by a perception. But between the actual event and the perception, there is often (always?) a story. The flavor of the story depends on the individual. Suppose I see a friend across the street and wave, yet the friend doesn't wave back. Do I assume the friend didn't see me? Do I immediately think I've done something to make my friend mad? Do I think my friend is rude? Sometimes our stories change; sometimes they stay exactly the same (and replay over and over). But the helpful thing to recognize is they are stories. They do not define us. In my experience, the more tightly I cling to these stories, the more I suffer.

Yesterday, I experienced multiple stories while reading my teaching evaluations (for a course in which I tried something new). I realize I cling tightly to (at least) two identities: dedicated/thoughtful teacher and compassionate person. If these identities are threatened or misunderstood, then I feel fear, anxiety, hurt, and shame.

My meditation teacher suggests a question to ask frequently: Am I sure? Am I completely sure I'm a thoughtful teacher? Is there no room for anything else? Might I be something else, too (through my own "story" or through the "story" of a student)? Certainly, my intention is to be a thoughtful teacher and a compassionate person, but these are not solid identities. Life is more fluid than that.

Karen Maezen Miller writes, "When we don't know, we don't judge" [italics are mine]. That is, solid "knowing" often causes suffering. For example, if I "know" I'm right in my beliefs, this leaves no space for me to genuinely listen to other views (or to see the potential pain in others). On the other hand, if I don't think my view is the Truth, then I can open my heart and mind to others (and to myself). I can be vulnerable, which means my heart can break open with sadness/hurt/pain, but additionally means my heart can break open with happiness/joy/contentment.

I'm currently quite curious about the way I cling to identities, stories, perceptions, achievements, externals. (This is juicy material!) Interestingly, the judgment in Miller's quote applies to not only others, but to me (that is, the way I sometimes ruthlessly judge myself). It's often a matter of perspective.

I just read an interesting blog post from a palliative-care nurse: Regrets of the Dying. I think it's a perspective-giving article.

Doggie

2011-05-31T10:12:00.000-05:00

Mark and I recently spent 5 magical (completely unplugged) weeks on Nevis, West Indies. Doggie lived on the property we rented. She was a happy dog with a big heart, and she accompanied us on all walks, runs, and swims. On Thursday I learned that Doggie (5 years old) died. She was poisoned by a man who thought dogs were hurting his animals (ugh--Doggie couldn't hurt anything bigger than a fly). What heartbreaking news. I knew Doggie only 5 weeks, yet I mourn her. While on Nevis I wrote a short tribute to Doggie. I share it today in honor of her death (and her life!).

Doggie

I remember a dharma talk where the teacher reads a list of qualities the audience thought belonged to an enlightened person, but the punch line is this creature is simply a dog. While on Nevis, Doggie has been our role model. She's perfected the nap (in the coolest spot). She's up for any adventure, no expectations attached. She loves to be rubbed, yet when we tell her we're done, she lays down--no rumination about all the ways we don't love her. She's always happy to see us--sometimes with a full-butt tail wag. She sings to Mark's music. She playfully chases animals, but never hurts them. What a wondrous life! Every day anew. Every day enjoyed in the moment. Doggie is our role model.

Dandelions

2011-05-20T16:48:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I put some new perennials in the ground. It feels so good to dig in the dirt! I noticed all the dandelions in my backyard. Dandelions and violets--a sea of yellow and purple. Yet dandelions are often reviled; they're seen as insidious weeds that ruin the prestige of a well-manicured lawn. Even those who don't pride themselves on lawn upkeep might embarrassedly mention their dandelions. I am someone who often (overly) concerns herself with what others think. (For example, I have embarrassedly mentioned my dandelions.) But really, these little flowers are quite beautiful--a burst of yellow color in the midst of deep green grass. It's all a matter of how you look at them. So I'm proud of my dandelions! And I have no plans to get rid of them.

New Experiences with Photography

2011-05-19T10:42:00.007-05:00

For most of my life, I've documented events with a camera. I use "document" purposefully--I took pictures solely to remember (and, yes, celebrate) people and events. Recently, I had an aha! moment about photography (thanks partially to Expressive Photography). My camera is actually a creative tool with which I can view the world in new and different ways, capture emotion and beauty (both large and small), and simply experiment. Taking pictures in this new way gets me to notice more. I look for hidden beauty, new angles, and different types of light; I'm more mindful. And that's a lovely thing.

Interesting Realization

2010-08-20T19:43:00.003-05:00

Recently I realized the complicated feelings I have about this blog. The intention of the blog--sharing my thoughts on life's joys and struggles--comes from a genuine place in my heart, filled with kindness and compassion. Yet, in practice, when I write a blog post I also feel some tension. Last night I realized what was going on for me.

When my posts fall into the category of "advice giving" (e.g., making suggestions to readers based on my experiences), there is dissonance within me, as I don't feel comfortable in that particular role. It takes me out of my own authentic experience and puts me into a look-at-me space, which I'd prefer not to inhabit.

So I thought about simply writing all future blog posts based solely on my experiences, with no expectation or suggestion for others (that resonates much more with my authentic intention of the blog). Yet that still feels stale, as it's not the medium with which the sharing feels genuine. That is, I'm happy to share my experiences with people (in fact, I do it regularly with friends, family, students, etc., when they ask), but I do that sharing when there is a felt connection (in-person, on the phone). And the blog doesn't give me that sense of connection. (In general, I don't feel much authentic connection via technology. I long for in-person or phone conversations, where I can more fully experience the other person.)

Alas, I think the blog has run its course. Although I try to "never say never," for the time being the blog will go silent. But for those readers who want to continue a conversation or ask about a certain post, please feel free to email me (my address is on my website). From there we could arrange a more authentic exchange.

May we all be safe.
May we all be happy.
May we all be loved.
May we all live in peace.

Namaste, all!

Redefining Work?

2010-08-18T12:07:00.005-05:00

"The way we spend our days is, of course, the way we spend our lives."
--Annie Dillard

Such an obvious statement, yet one we don't typically internalize. We often buzz through our days, unmindfully completing tasks and to-dos, at the same time longing for a more simple life at some point in the future. But as (meditation teacher) Pema Chodron often says, we strengthen the habits we practice. So if we daily practice the habits of fear, rushing, urgency, multi-tasking, and must-complete-the-to-do-list, then those are the habits we strengthen. It's therefore not reasonable to assume that at some point in the future those habits will magically go away. (At least I haven't found a way to make it work. :))

What habits do you want to strengthen? The answer to that question will vary by person. The habits I'd like to strengthen are, for example, pausing, non-doing, reflection, authenticity, genuine creativity, listening, kindness, and compassion.

How do I do this and still "get my job done?" Well, I heard something interesting from a meditation teacher (Cheri Maples) recently: she's worked for many organizations, all of which undoubtedly have mission statements, but she's always lived by her own personal mission statement (which keeps her intentions clear and authentic). What a freeing thought!

I know Lawrence University has its formal mission statement, but what is my personal work mission statement? I've pondered this loosely during the summer, but now headed into the academic year, I thought it wise to actually articulate my intentions at work. So I just completed my work mission statement. Now I have a centered place with which to enter the school year and navigate the bevy of requests that might come my way. I know what I value most deeply, and that's where I'll spend my (limited) time. [BTW, I will soon discuss a "life mission statement"--stay tuned.]

Perhaps a personal work mission statement is something for you to consider? An anchor to hold you to your true intentions and what you most value? (It's so darn easy to get wrapped up in what other people value or what society values.) This can be done for conventional-type jobs and also for non-conventional-type jobs (e.g., stay-at-home parent, student, self-employed person). Of course, it takes time and energy to write the statement. (I actually found it a very helpful exercise.) And, of course, it takes great strength to live by the statement even when outside forces tell you not to. But remember, how we spend our days is how we spend our life. :)

As a just-for-fun tidbit, included below is a word cloud of my work mission statement (click on the picture for a larger view).

Talking, Listening, and Twitter

2010-06-02T16:25:00.003-05:00

A few weeks ago, I spent a weekend at a silent meditation retreat. This retreat was such a gift. Recently, I've been processing (emotionally and cognitively) some big, core personal issues. The retreat opened a lovely space for me to explore these issues and discover meaningful insights. The retreat was also a space for me to get curious about roles I play--for example, the caretaker, the person-everyone-likes, the peacemaker. (These are roles I choose to play--that is, they aren't forced on me. It's helpful to think about whether these are positive, authentic roles for me to continue to play. Or are there some I can give up?)

And I also got curious about speaking and listening. The silence was a blessing. It took away all the external social expectations and allowed me to really listen to myself. Typically, I spend substantial time, energy, and thought on externals. Yet the only things I actually have control over are my internals. The silence allowed me to see that more clearly.

Among the Eightfold Path in Buddhism is something called "Right Speech." In my personal practice of Right Speech, I ask three questions: Is it truthful? Is it helpful? Is it kind? (Well, okay, I don't ask these all the time, but these questions are the overall umbrella of my intentions about speech.) They are interesting questions, as we often say things that might be one or two of these things (truthful, helpful, or kind), but it's more challenging to limit speech to things that are all three.

A year ago I blogged about my Twitter experiment. Initially, I enjoyed the experiment, and I think many of my tweets met my intention of truthfulness, helpfulness, and kindness (the helpfulness piece was mainly for me--I saw Twitter as a self-exploration outlet). But recently Twitter has become something else for me. Something not helpful. It's now become a to-do or a what-can-I-say-that's-cool space. So I think it's time for the Twitter experiment to end. Goodbye Twitter. And thank you.

A Different Kind of To-Do List

2010-05-13T08:19:00.002-05:00

Within the last month, I watched two movies that dealt with impending death and the creation of to-do-before-I-die lists. The first movie, The Bucket List, included extravagant adventures, paid for by a dying billionaire (and, of course, there were non-extravagant, heartfelt experiences found along the way). The second move, My Life Without Me, was a more blue-collar take on the bucket list. I was deeply touched when the main character wrote her list-of-things-to-do-before-I-die. It included things like "tell my kids I love them many times a day, say what I'm thinking, visit my dad in jail, record messages for my kids birthdays until they turn 18, get my nails done." Nothing extravagant on her list. Each item involved simple, everyday life, yet seen through a very different lens.

What if you were told you had 3 months to live? What would you include on the list of things-to-do-before-I-die? I'll take a stab at potential items that would be on my list: tell the people in my life how much and why I love them; take a trip with Mark to a destination that feels most true to us at the time; eat delicious food, drink good wine, and laugh with friends regularly; host each of my nieces and nephews for a special day of spoiling (and leave each of them letters, to be opened at different points in their lives); give and get 20 hugs a day; spend quality intimate time with Mark; listen--to loved ones, to nature, to my heart; be completely authentic; keep a gratitude journal; spend no time in meetings or around toxic people or checking email or running errands.

Now the big question: Why wait until I have "3 months to live" to prioritize my life by this list? Why not implement this list (as much as possible) right now? What a radical and scary, yet freeing idea. Why not now?

Limits We Place on Ourselves

2010-04-29T13:36:00.002-05:00

Recently I'm more aware of the limits I place on myself. For example: 1) I must be on campus all day long, even if I don't have anything scheduled; 2) If I spend too much time enjoying life, then somehow I'll get "in trouble"; 3) I'm not an artistic person; 4) Before starting a new project, I must be completely prepared. (And this is just a small array of examples.)

But I want to know, "who says?" Why not leave the office early and enjoy my backyard? Why not enjoy every minute of life? Who could I possibly "get in trouble" with? Why not play with my artistic side? Why not dive into something and learn by making mistakes? Huh! What a lovely new world that has opened to me (well, I'll be honest, the door is only partially ajar to this new world).

I like the idea of dropping assumptions, playing around with my preconceived notions, and recognizing that it's me (not someone else) who actually places these limits. Thus, I can also challenge the limits. Very scary (new ground typically is) and yet also freeing.

My limits tend to be in the punishment/be-a-good-girl style. This is a product of my particular background (circumstances and genetics). Others of you might have a different style of limit setting. For example, you might limit your growth by always assuming you're incapable of fill-in-the-blank or by not being authentic or by chronically undervaluing yourself (and perhaps underachieving or procrastinating). We all have our own "flavor" of limiting ourselves. (And we're all okay!)

I think it's a huge step to have awareness of the limits we place on ourselves. Once that happens, we can ask questions: Why is this limit in place? Is it necessary? Is it helpful? And sometimes we just need to say "Phfffflt!" to that limiting voice in our heads.

Perspective

2010-04-23T10:47:00.002-05:00

A sense of perspective is often a helpful thing. Sometimes it's as simple as putting small annoyances (e.g., waiting in a long line, aches and pains, busy work) into a bigger perspective, in which they quickly get washed away, and a lightness comes back to our lives. Other times it's finding a perspective even bigger than, for example, the death of a loved one.

Daily, I view the Astronomy Picture of the Day. Looking at incredible pictures of space often brings me, at least briefly, a deep sense of perspective. And after I have this brief sense of perspective, I can move forward in a positive direction.

Namaste.

The Self-Awareness Path

2010-04-20T13:58:00.003-05:00

A close friend of mine suggested a blog topic: knowing yourself. I'm both flattered and stymied by this suggestion. Flattered, because my friend thinks I know myself well and stymied because I'm not sure how to translate my experiences into a helpful blog entry. Then an important word floated into my head: authenticity. That is, whatever pathway each of us takes to "know" ourselves, in order for it to be helpful, it must be authentic.

My particular pathway has been a mixture of many things: journal writing, close friendships, professional counseling, meditation, Buddhist literature, athletics, sharing my story, talking, listening, loving with all my heart, allowing for and accepting the full range of emotions, gardening, being told difficult truths, forgiving, making mistakes, laughing, awareness of mind-body-emotion connections, reiki, playing with children, mindfulness, curiosity, and sometimes just lying on the couch doing absolutely nothing.

Getting to really know myself has been healthful, positive, and empowering, but it's also been difficult, messy, and downright scary at times. So there are ebbs and flows. Some days (or weeks or months) I feel strong and ready to plunge ahead, and other days (or weeks or months) I decide to take a break. Some days I meditate and journal and breathe; other days I barely pause and distract myself (with email, to-do, errands, a glass--or two--of chardonnay, or chocolate); most days are somewhere in between.

The pathway each of us takes is different (maybe in only small ways, but different nonetheless) and that's okay! The pathway must be authentic in order for us to feel safe and to continue moving forward. I think authenticity, curiosity, and kindness are all important pieces of the self-awareness path: genuine curiosity to start the path, self-kindness to stay on the path (even when it's really hard), and authenticity to chart an appropriate path (which might change regularly).

It's also helpful to remember we're all in this together and none of us has "figured it all out." I certainly haven't. (Pema Chodron: "None of us is okay and all of us are fine. It’s not just one way. We are walking, talking paradoxes.") I consider my self-awareness path to continue for the rest of my life. And what a lovely way to spend the rest of my life.

Sadness and Gratitude

2010-04-07T10:38:00.003-05:00

On Monday, my PhD advisor died. He died of a broken heart (his wife of 50 years passed away 3 weeks ago, after a long battle with cancer).

This week has been a blur, trying to process his death, my sadness, and also reflect on the advisor/advisee relationship. Tim was a wonderful mentor to me. At the time he became my advisor, I did not have confidence in myself as a researcher. He was a patient, yet strong advisor. I wonder, if I had a different advisor, would I have completed my dissertation? Who knows. But I do know the positive impact he had on me. He mentored me well; I finished my dissertation and I was proud of the work. Throughout that process, we also had many discussions outside the realm of statistics. Talks about career paths, family, life, sports, fun, discipline, and friendship. We shared many opinions, but we also agreed-to-disagree in some areas (yet we opened each others' eyes to different view points).

I am very grateful for what Tim gave me. He provided me with the tools I needed to finish my PhD and get a faculty position at Lawrence--I job I love with all my heart. He got me to believe in myself as a researcher and an academic. And he was both patient and appropriately demanding when needed. Plus, he was a gentle soul. I miss him.

It's particularly times like these when I think about all the special people in my life. The people who have touched my life in important and impactful ways (and in a wide variety of ways). I am so very grateful to all those people. If you're reading this blog post, perhaps you can also think about the people who have touched your heart in special ways. Gratitude is such a lovely space to inhabit. Let's inhabit gratitude. And make a point of telling those special people just how thankful we are.

Listening

2010-03-31T14:01:00.002-05:00

I've recently thought much about listening. Really listening. I see this as different from "hearing." With listening, you set aside your ego and your agenda. It's not about you; it's about the person to whom you're listening. In doing so, you listen with your whole body--your mind, your heart, your eyes. It's quite a gift to give someone.

Yet there are so many distractions from listening. Maybe you're tired or you disagree or you'd make different choices or your own emotional issues get tapped. So many ways in which the listener gets off track. Active, compassionate listening is difficult, yet it's an integral part of healthy relationships and a healthy community. It's hard and so we push it off as unimportant. We place "speaking" on a pedestal (public speaking, for example), and yet we don't acknowledge or train listening. Hmmm.

And the listening applies not just to other people, but also (perhaps most importantly?) to yourself. Listening to your authentic voice (not that negative-voice or societal-pressure-voice); listening to your body; listening to your emotions; listening to your heart.

Wow. This is complicated stuff, but very powerful. Perhaps we can all spend a little more time listening. Experiment with the power of the pause and of the sacred gift of really listening. And please let me know what you think. (I'm listening. :))

For even more thought-provoking words on the art of listening, you can read excerpts from a lovely essay by Brenda Ueland: Tell Me More

Spring!

2010-03-29T16:11:00.003-05:00

There's been a long drought on my blog. The truth: I've pushed too hard, worked too much, felt uninspired, let the negative-voice-in-my head make my choices, been afraid to make mistakes or try new things; basically, I've stayed on the safe (habitual), yet painful path of the daily-grind treadmill. Ugh!

So to mix things up, I unplugged last week. Once I turned my grades in last Monday at 5pm, I went off-campus, off email, and off the Internet (for a week!). I had a relaxing, creative, enjoyable vacation at home. I read books, thought about my soon-to-be container garden, watched movies, had date-nights with my husband, ran at High Cliff (rather than my usual in-town route), laid on the couch, relaxed with dear friends over excellent food and drinks, wrote in my journal. I went through some highs (e.g., laughter and drinks with loved ones) and lows (e.g., working with some difficult, raw emotional stuff). But that's life. Basically, I allowed life to happen; to unfold in its own (sometimes fun, sometimes difficult) way. Quite an eye-opening experience.

Spring is here. Really, I declare it. I don't care if it gets cold again or even if we get more snow. Spring is here, in my heart. We've made it through the long winter (for me, it felt particularly--emotionally--long this year). Now it's time to celebrate. To live. To enjoy.

I send you all warm spring wishes: flowers, sunshine, new beginnings, space for exploration and creativity, sounds and smells of nature, and permission to take an afternoon (or two or three!) off. Happy spring to y'all. I hope to blog atcha more often.

Down Time and Play

2009-12-14T16:26:00.010-06:00

How often do I pause and ask, "What's true for me right now, in this moment?" Or, "What do I want?" The answer is "rarely." I'm a planner. This is a tool I developed early in my life to feel a (false) sense of control. Now, after 40 years, I'm quite good at planning. Before I realize it, I've planned my day or week. And the nasty thing is that I then feel compelled to complete the plan, even if it's no longer "true for me" or what "makes me happy." Huh. What a huge realization.

So during this long winter break, I'm more mindful of my planning nature. I accept that one of my inner-children feels comforted by planning, but that planning is not required and even if done, the plan doesn't have to be followed. Sometimes now, when I ask myself "what do I want?", I simply want to sit on the couch or look out the window or "just be." (I recently read an interesting article in Yoga Journal: "Just Be." I recommend it to y'all--especially if you encounter that lack-of-time feeling.)

I've also thought recently about the benefit of play--especially of non-planned play. On Saturday I wanted to build a snowperson. Alas, the snow was not yet ripe for packing. So I came inside. No big deal. Yesterday I got the urge again, and the snow was melted enough for me to build, not quite a snow-adult, but a snow-child. How fun it was to play in the snow! I was in the moment, enjoying the process, and feeling thankful for the winter season.

I wish you all space to "just be" and to have un-planned, delightful play. I'd love to hear any and all stories about such things--feel free to share via the comments feature. I think sharing such fun and/or non-doing experiences helps build connectedness, kindness, and happiness.

Be well!

Precious Pause

2009-11-18T09:01:00.003-06:00

It's reading period here at Lawrence. This means classes are done for the term and we have two unscheduled days as students prepare for final exams. Unscheduled days--what a lovely thought. This is a great time to pause, take a deep breath (perhaps many deep breaths), and reflect. What do your mind, body, and spirit need during this precious pause? More sleep? More reflective, spacious study (read: anti-cramming)? More exercise or stretching? More laughing? More solitude? More help from professors and fellow students? More walks in the sunshine?

What a gift these days are. Yet it's so easy to overlook them and stay on the treadmill of do-do-do, go-go-go, schedule-schedule-schedule. I encourage you all to embrace these unscheduled days; purposefully pause and check in; make decisions from a centered place (not the scattered space we often find ourselves in). And also realize there are--or could be--many precious-pause days in our lives. The key is the realization that at any moment we can step off the treadmill (even if for a short time).

Be well.

Reconnection

2009-10-28T15:56:00.003-05:00

I am burned out. Burnt to a crisp. How did this happen? I recall my early-August blog post where I decided to re-invent fall--embracing it rather than hunkering-down-for-the-long-haul. Part of the re-envisioning process, though, involved regular check-ins. For example, how are things going? Can I continue at this pace? Are there things I need to cut back on? Are there other things I need to make time for? Am I living my life based on what I treasure most?

Somehow, I forgot about the check-in process. Instead, I completely got hooked by my ego (read: negative-voice that constantly tells me to do more). And I lost sight of the big picture. Each time this happens, I'm amazed by the new ways that ego can sneak into my life (part of being an academic means being adept at creating intricate, intellectual ways to make myself think I'm being good to myself when I'm actually suffering quite a lot).

The good news is that I realize it. Yeah! I write this blog post, because perhaps some of you are in the same boat (e.g., lost sight of the big picture, not living life based on what you value most). This is a juicy time to dig in (yes, it takes hard work) and reassess. Reconnect with the authentic voice inside; reconnect with mind, body, and spirit.

Part of this reconnection starts with taking an honest look at things, just the way they are. Well, honestly, I'm burned out, not feeling like "myself," cranky (I know I hide it very well, but I feel cranky inside), and unable to truly access happiness. Now the hard work begins: How can I get off this particular treadmill of suffering and get back on a pathway connected to my authentic self (that self who easily accesses happiness, compassion, and generosity)? My answers to this question might be different from yours. The important thing is for the questions and answers to be truthful and authentic. For me, I want to pause more, breathe more, leave some (many?) things undone, be vulnerable, and slowly let go of this very tight (fake) control I hold over the entire universe (last statement purposely ridiculous, because that's how out-of-whack I feel).

I invite any of you who are struggling in a similar way to create your own roadmap back to "yourself." The first step is always the recognition (and we should celebrate even this seemingly small step). The next steps are difficult, as they ask us to change sometimes deeply ingrained habits. But this is the cycle of life. And I'm happy to be part of it (even when it's sometimes weird, scary, or difficult).

So I invite y'all (and I invite myself) to pause and reconnect. Over and over again.

Namaste.

Mindfulness Message to Accompany Last Post

2009-09-28T14:36:00.003-05:00

The following quotation seems particularly apt after writing my last post on sustainability:

"A myth that makes it hard to give ourselves the attention we deserve is the myth that busyness is strength--that the more balls we can juggle, the stronger we are. When we seem to have the ability to keep pushing--to go, go, go--we believe that we can do anything. We think that we're members of that special breed who are built to give and who don't need to rest and take breaks as much as everyone else. This is, in fact, a trick we play on ourselves. The truth is that often the more driven we are, the less energy we really have."

Patricia Spadaro
From "Honor Yourself: The Inner Art of Giving and Receiving"

Sustainability (of Human Resources)

2009-09-25T14:57:00.003-05:00

In the last two years, Lawrence has generated many wonderful ideas and useful actions in terms of sustainability of resources (e.g., a LEED-certified building, reduction of paper waste, reduction of energy use). If you don't know about LU's Green Roots initiative, I encourage you to visit the website: http://www.lawrence.edu/committee/greenroots/ (They are doing great stuff.)

This post, though, is not about sustainability of the earth. It's about sustainability of human energy and effort. Here at Lawrence it can often feel like we (students, faculty, and staff) are on a constant treadmill of activities, responsibilities, due dates, performances, and commitments. Like it or not, Lawrence is a culture of "doing," not of "being" (not even a little bit of "being"). Rarely is there time specifically designated for self-reflection or contemplation (of things academic or non-academic).

To be honest, I think Lawrence is on a non-sustainable path. Too many people are putting in too many hours and exerting too much energy. I don't think it can (or should) be sustained. Instead, I think we should do less. Yes, do less. I know the first counter-argument is that doing-less will create a culture of slackers, but I reject that counter-argument out of hand. Lawrence hires the very best people available and admits the very best students. (If we aren't doing this, then we should. So if we've hired someone who really wants to slack, then that's an issue of hiring, not of creating a do-less culture.) The people at Lawrence are here precisely because 1) they love and believe in the college, and 2) they have demonstrated that they are intelligent, creative, energetic, and very hard-working. They are not slackers. Typically they are over-achievers who need to be told that it's okay to do less--to pick a few important projects to really say "yes" to (to put their whole heart in) and say "no" to other things.

More is not always better. More can have diminishing returns. If we always do more without thinking about it (e.g., does this new thing really have a large enough positive impact to commit the expenditure of human energy and time?), then we just have a lot more "stuff" and often have a lot less energy, enthusiasm, creativity, and excitement.

I encourage everyone at Lawrence to think about their own sustainable path. Can you healthfully keep up this pace for a term? A year? 10 years? If not, what can you cut back on in order to keep the quality experiences? What can you say "no" to in order to more fully say "yes" to the things for which you're passionate? (Note this might entail a serious look into what you value most in life.)

Clearly there will be variation in our paths. Some people can feel comfy and authentic while still doing a lot. Others might have different limits. Basically, we all hit our walls at different times and places. But I don't want us to have to "hit the wall" in order to say "no" or to re-evaluate our pathway. I'd like to have the conversation before the Lawrence community (and its members) hit the wall.

I'm all for sustainable paths for each person in the Lawrence community. I say a big, genuine "yes" to sustainability. I'd love for us to be a culture of do-less-but-do-it-with-your-whole-heart. I encourage you all to have these conversations. What is your sustainable path? (And remember it's completely okay if your path takes you in a different direction or at a different pace from those around you.)

Personally, I work every day on staying on a sustainable path, centering myself, and listening to my authentic voice. It's really a moment-to-moment journey of ups and downs. But I think it's a worthwhile journey. And I'd love some company along the way.

Transition, Comparisons (and Exhaustion)

2009-09-18T15:39:00.006-05:00

Many thoughts have gone through my mind this first week of classes. Some of them unproductive (e.g., "you must be all things to all people," "other professors are more something--fill in the blank--than you"). Some of them insightful (e.g., "I have a difficult time with this transition from summer-mode to school-mode, so probably my students do too"). Some of them simple truths (e.g., "I'm exhausted").

Transitions can be challenging: adjustment to new rhythms, opportunity for self-doubt, and lack of control--not sure what to expect or perhaps expectations are set and they don't materialize. I find the transition from summer-mode to academic-year-mode a bit (a lot?) jarring. And this is mainly about my energy output. During the summer, I interact with people (individually, in small groups, and occassionally in large groups), but I don't do it all day long. I allow for much quiet time within each day. Then when school starts, I suddenly have conversations, intellectual discussions, and classroom interactions all day long. Because I tend to put a lot of energy, thought, and compassion into my interactions, I feel really tired by the end of the day.

My "aha" moment about students is that you have your own transition challenges. While you might share my "energy" issue, you also often (depending on your summer work) must switch from summer-mode to studying-reading-processing-learning model (while also catching up with all your friends). Those are very different states of mind and can lead to the same exhaustion. Note: After being disappointed the first day of class when my students weren't as uber-excited as I was about learning new concepts, I quickly realized that it takes you students at least a little ramp-up time, and that's okay.

Now, one of the hard things about transitions (and the potential exhaustion that initially comes with transitions) is that we're vulnerable to all sorts of unproductive thought patterns and habits. For me, I can fall into "comparison mind." This is when I look around and compare myself (typically unfavorably) to everyone. It's a bizarre state of mind, because it's not based in reality, yet it's really hard to shake. That is, it's hard to find my authentic voice and centered heart--the place where I know I'm okay (just they way I am!) no matter what.

I assume for you students, comparison-mind can encroach during transition periods just as it has for me. For example, "the students in my class seem smarter than me," "that student seems to know exactly what he/she wants to do, yet I have no idea," "will people notice I've gained weight?", "will I disappoint my friend if I don't want to get together tonight?" Clearly, the list (for all of us) can go on and on.

Well, you know what? I say PHFFLTT! to all of that. The reality is that we're all are imperfect and yet we're all okay.

Here's a lovely quote from Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron:
“Having the rug pulled out from under you is a big opportunity to change your fundamental pattern. It’s like changing the DNA. One way to pull out your own rug is by just letting go, lightening up, being more gentle, and not making such a big deal. This approach is very different from practicing affirmations, which has been a popular thing to do in some circles. Affirmations are like screaming that you’re okay in order to overcome this whisper that you’re not. That’s a big contrast to actually uncovering the whisper, realizing that it’s passing memory, and moving closer to all those fears and all those edgy feelings that maybe you’re not okay. Well, no big deal. None of us is okay and all of us are fine. It’s not just one way. We are walking, talking paradoxes.”

Please take good care of yourselves during this transition. Allow more time for sleep, reflection, fun, exercise--whatever rejuvenates you. And remember, we're all okay, right now in this very moment.

Be well.

A New Way to Think of Fall

2009-08-05T12:01:00.003-05:00

Each August I begin to sense an aura of dread at Lawrence. This dread is for the upcoming school year. Dread from the faculty that summer is over (and so quickly!). These are professors who love what they do, love Lawrence, love teaching. Yet there's a group-think that entering a new academic year, we must put up a shield to make it through another long school year. We know how busy our lives will get and how precious little time we'll have for creative work and personal commitments.

But why is this so? Why must we, year-in-and-year-out, fall into the same thinking (the shoring up for the long haul of craziness)? This is not sustainable--not a sustainable path for us faculty and not a model of sustainability for students.

The reality is that we can reassess as we go along. If we're over-committed or overwhelmed by, for example, grading, meetings, or email, then we can pause, step back, and reassess. Maybe we decide to spend less time on email (e.g., don't respond to some messages, write only 5-line replies) or on grading (e.g., give feedback, but limit the amount of time spent on each paper) or on meetings (e.g., miss--egads!--a meeting if it means taking precious personal time to regroup).

My current research is on metacognition (specifically, applying metacognitive methods in the introductory statistics classroom). I just read a chapter on "Problem Solving, Metacognition, and Sense-Making in Mathematics." One of the differences between novice and experienced problem-solvers is that novices don't know when to abort a non-fruitful solution method (they "read, make a decision quickly, and pursue that direction come hell or high water"-- Schoenfeld, 1992).

Sometimes I think this is what faculty do in regard to the upcoming academic year. We quickly make the decision that it will be a long haul with few choices and lots of work (work that we absolutely love, but lots of work nonetheless). It's as if we're novice problem-solvers.

So this fall, I'm thinking of the school year in a different way. I'm excited to see the students again and to soak up their positive, inspired energy. I'm excited to be back in the classroom and try new teaching methods. I look forward to the feeling of fall, a season I love--cool, sunny days with changing leaf colors and the sound of referee whistles in the air. I also realize that it's easy to get overexcited and then over-commit. So I'll take things slowly and reassess regularly. How is my energy? Do I still love what I do? How can I spend the most time with the parts of my job that I'm passionate about? Am I still taking time for myself as a person, not as a professor? And if the answers to these questions indicate I'm not on a sustainable path, then I'll make changes. That's the cool thing--I always have choices (even when I'm feeling overwhelmed and the choices are hard to see).

I encourage us all at Lawrence (faculty, staff, students, administrators) to focus on our own sustainable paths. The school year isn't a long-haul we must shore up for. It's a wonderfully rich experience of in- and out-of-class learning, connections, ideas, insights, conversations, among many other things. This is the juicy, good stuff. This is why we all chose Lawrence and why it holds such a soft spot in all our hearts. In the right doses, it's a beautiful thing. And the "right dose" might be different for everyone. That's the individual nature of the sustainable path. And if we're all individually on sustainable paths, then our community is, too.

So let's embrace the new school year. Yeah for school! I can't wait for it to start.

Bob Herbert's Commencement Address

2009-07-08T13:52:00.002-05:00

In a previous blog post, I raved about the commencement address Bob Herbert gave at Lawrence this June. I think it's a must-read, and the transcript is now online (yeah!): http://lawrence.edu/news/commencement/2009/herbert-speech.shtml

Enjoy!

Reflections about Re-entry

2009-07-02T09:26:00.005-05:00

If you read my blog, you know Mark and I spent 5 weeks last spring on Nevis (a small, quiet, beautiful island in the West Indies). Each time we take a sabbatical retreat, the re-entry into the States and our normal, day-to-day lives can be quite jarring. We’re always glad to be back (back to our friends, our lovely home, our ground), but the first week is a difficult transition period. This trip I more purposefully paid attention to things I noticed upon my “re-entry.” My reflections…
Americans like convenience. In the Caribbean, the pace is slow and the range of products sold (in general) is narrow. Mark and I learn to deal with (and, in fact, embrace) "island time" and the lack of convenience items. After 5 weeks, we get used to, for example, riding bikes for all errands, easily adjusting if the grocery store is out of a certain food, and waiting patiently for any kind of service. Hence, it's jarring upon return to the States to immediately see such wide-spread impatience in people--impatience waiting in line, frustration that a restaurant or store doesn't have exactly what someone wants, and anger when traveling doesn't go exactly as planned. (Note: this doesn't necessarily apply in general. I think people are more patient and kind when in their home base, but they still want convenience.) I look around at the new strip malls and convenience stores going up in Appleton and I marvel that they all stay afloat. But then I realize that we, as a society, keep them afloat--we want things how and when we want them.

American news is fear-based. We returned to the States during the height of the swine-flu scare. I completely understand the need to education the public on health concerns, but the 24-hour news channels don't simply share information, they also scare the crap out of people. The reality is (I think) we don't have 24-hours worth of real news to share. So it seems these stations latch onto any juicy story (typically a small-chance-occurrence story) and use it to lure more people to watch (hey, your life is in danger, so you better stay tuned to us). Just like the convenience stores, the reason 24-hour, fear-based news is thriving is because we, as a society, indulge in it. Last fall, I purposely unplugged from not only TV, but also from news in general, and I can say it's made me much happier. Fear, although alluring in some ways, is not a particularly pleasant place to live.

The human spirit is generally positive. I know I just commented on fear-based news, but the good news is that people generally have a positive, kind spirit. As we waited in a very long customs line upon our return to the States, I saw masses of people and, in general, they were making the best of the situation, laughing, helping those around them, and smiling at strangers. I do firmly believe the human spirit is positive (even under horrible circumstances, we witness many acts of kindness). Sometimes this spirit is hidden under layers of anger, fear, sadness, or self-doubt, but it's there. It's there in all of us. With all the bad news swirling around us, this is a really important thing to remember.

Americans are inundated with images. When we stepped off the plane and into an American airport, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of images I saw. There were advertisements along the walls, TVs blaring, and stores with walls of magazines (whose images shouted, "you can be a better person if you do this diet, buy this product, organize your house in this way, etc."). And our drive back from Chicago to Appleton was filled with billboards and signs for restaurants, gas stations, and hotels. I think it's an interesting exercise to simply notice all the images (advertising, TV, Internet info, magazine covers) that we see each day. What impact do these have on us? How do they make us feel? We'll probably all have different answers to these questions, but I think the important thing is the awareness.

Beauty is everywhere. We got back to Appleton in early May, when spring just began in earnest. Because I was still in retreat-mode, I was lucky enough to watch with full awareness the greening of spring (not just the greening, but the all-sorts-of-coloring of spring). I realized that Appleton in May is just as beautiful as Nevis--a different kind of beauty, but beauty nonetheless. I believe there really is beauty everywhere. Unfortunately, our mind states can sometimes block that beauty from us. But hopefully we all get an occasional ah-ha moment when we truly see beauty in a surprising place.
So these are my musings from re-entry to daily life in the States. (Another musing is the rush-rush-rush lifestyle of Americans, but I already wrote about that: http://joyofstatistics.blogspot.com/2009/05/busy-mind-even-on-vacation.html and http://joyofstatistics.blogspot.com/2009/05/time.html) Any musings y'all want to share? Students, perhaps you've had similar experiences when you return from study-abroad programs? I'd love to hear any and all comments.

Be well.

My Twitter Experiment

2009-07-02T09:10:00.002-05:00

Okay, so I was initially skeptical of Twitter--would it be a useful, positive tool for me or just another time sink? After experimenting for a few weeks, I've learned it can occasionally be a time sink (if I allow myself to fall into the I-must-Tweet-every-single-day-and-it-must-be-profound mindset), but generally I've found it a nice outlet. I mainly use it for personal development--sharing an issue I'm working through or a life reflection. And I only have 140 characters to work with. I love that! It gets me to think carefully about each and every word, and to distill the masses of thoughts in my head down to the essence of what I'm really feeling.

So I'm now officially on the Twitter bandwagon (and I've recently used the word "tweet" without feeling completely ridiculous). If you're interested: https://twitter.com/joyofstatistics

[February 9, 2012: The Twitter experiment is over: http://joyofstatistics.blogspot.com/2010/06/talking-listening-and-twitter.html]

Graduation Message: Slow Down

2009-06-16T07:32:00.002-05:00

Sunday's commencement ceremony at Lawrence was very meaningful to me. I took the time to look at the faces and in the eyes of the soon-to-be-graduates as they walked through the aisle of us faculty as we applauded. Some students were moved to tears, others were smiling ear-to-ear, some were fighting back the emotion, and others seemed checked-out (perhaps because of graduation-weekend overwhelm or simple disinterest). I was honored to be part of this array of emotions and, as always, I beamed with pride for the graduating seniors.

The main commencement address was given by Bob Herbert, award-winning op-ed journalist for the New York Times. (Two students also gave excellent speeches.) I was so moved by Bob's words that I jokingly told my colleagues I was "stalking" him after the ceremony (I really wanted to meet him, shake his hand, and look him in the eyes to say how much his words meant to me). Alas, I didn't find him, but I do hope to attain a transcript of his speech so I can share it with all who will read it--it was that good.

After stating the tough truths of the current world-wide situation (which the graduates inherited, yet must work with), Bob purposefully switched gears and urged the students to slow down, occasionally leave the Blackberry at home, have more real relationships (not online, Facebook interactions), pause more, allow for silence, and most importantly to add the human-factor back into everything (decisions, policies, interactions, opinions, etc.). He nicely tied the two pieces of his speech together, because the lack of human-ness is one of the reasons why the world has gone to hell in a handbasket (my words, not his). That is, without human-ness, it's much easier to, for example, wage war, make decisions based on profit alone, and spread a message of intolerance.

Thank you, Bob, for such a truthful, heartfelt, and thought-provoking speech. I hope his words touched our graduates as much as they touched me.

On the same "slow down" theme, Leo Babauta (Zen Habits) recently wrote a blog entry on "The 10 Essential Rules for Slowing Down and Enjoying Life More." More good food for thought.

May we all slow down, even for a few moments each day.

Enjoy Each Moment

2009-06-11T17:56:00.002-05:00

My last post was a long commentary on finding a career path. This is a short post on enjoying each and every moment, which is particularly appropriate for graduating seniors. You seniors have just a few short days left on campus. It would be easy for those days to flash by, lost in a panic about future plans, seeing every last friend, and/or attending to family (while balancing time with friends) during graduation weekend. Another possibility, though, is for you to be fully present in each moment and each conversation; to make purposeful choices that simplify the festivities, yet enhance your enjoyment; to check in regularly with what feels authentic to you and to honor those feelings (even if your choices might mildly disappoint others). These are your last days on campus—how do you want to spend this precious time?

Finding a Career Path

2009-06-11T17:23:00.003-05:00

This weekend is graduation at Lawrence. It’s a time when some soon-to-be-graduates are preparing to start jobs (or graduate school), others are still searching for a particular job, and others yet aren’t at all sure what career path is most authentic for them. All of these situations are normal and okay.

My own career path was not straight-forward, but it eventually led to a job that I love and allows me to be authentically me—I just needed to be patient and trust my instincts. Here’s my background…

I was given a full athletic scholarship to Indiana University, which I happily accepted (I really wanted to play volleyball in the Big Ten). If I hadn’t attended Indiana, I’m sure I would have gone to a small, liberal-arts college just like Lawrence (my dad is a retired chemistry professor at Cornell College and both my sisters went to ACM schools). But I ended up at Indiana. As a senior in high school I thought I might want to study communications or journalism in college (not sure why—perhaps because an aptitude test suggested this). By the time I arrived at Indiana, though, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to study, so I took a breadth of courses. After my first year, I still wasn’t drawn to any major, but many of my friends were in the business school (which was highly ranked), so I thought I’d give that a try. In my sophomore year I took some business courses (hoping they would magically turn me onto learning), but that was another dead end. It was my dad who suggested I major in mathematics. This was an eye-opening suggestion. I took a math course every semester because I enjoyed the subject and I did well, but it never occurred to me to major in math. (It sounds odd now, but I never considered math as a major, I just figured everyone kept taking math, because it was good stuff to know.) So that’s how I became a math major, which (when I really thought and felt about it) seemed natural to me.

In my junior year I began thinking about careers. I knew I didn’t want to teach K-12 (I didn’t want to deal with the discipline aspect). I looked into actuarial science and thought that’s what I’d do (it’s routinely recognized as one of the “best careers,” which caught my eye—similar to how the IU business school originally caught my eye). I took and passed the first actuarial exam, and I thought I was on my way. But as I got closer to graduation, I realized I wasn’t done with school. It didn’t yet feel right to be in the “real world”—I wanted to keep learning. So I applied to statistics graduate schools. I had a few choices, but settled on Iowa for my graduate work. (This was a dumb-luck decision. It was made because Iowa felt comfortable—close to home and close to my then-boyfriend—but ended up being a great decision. Iowa was not only an excellent program, but it was small program and had a supportive atmosphere, which is exactly what me and my then-lacking-confidence self needed.)

When I entered graduate school I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to stay for my PhD or leave with a masters (I enrolled in the PhD program, but knew I could leave in two years if I didn’t want a PhD). In my first year at Iowa, I discovered what I wanted to do. As a teaching assistant I realized how authentic being in the college classroom felt for me. I was so excited about my teaching (throughout graduate school) that it sometimes took away from my free time and my dissertation work. I’d found my passion. I knew I would get my PhD for one reason only—so I could teach at a place just like Lawrence (a small, undergraduate, liberal-arts college). Working on my dissertation was sometimes a slog, but I knew exactly why I was doing it.

So now I have what I consider the ideal job for me. But at my college graduation this job was not on my radar screen. Interesting how things work out.

Thanks for staying with me during my long trip down memory lane. I’ll keep the whole account in this blog post, so you students can see the path of someone who didn’t know what she wanted to do at college graduation (and it was okay not to know). Though it was important for me to look for appropriate signs—to know when something clearly wasn’t authentic for me, to regularly ask myself if what I was doing (working on my PhD) was worthwhile, and to still ask myself each year if I’m passionate about my job (and if the answer is “no,” are the reasons for that answer under my control—e.g., can I cut back on the not-so-fun stuff and focus on the classroom?—or are they because I no longer feel authentic and myself while doing even the most fun part of my job?). These are signs for all of us to watch for (even those who already have careers). As is often the case in life, self-awareness is a key to being happy. This awareness (and attention to insights and instincts) can eventually lead you to a job that is fulfilling in a multitude of ways.

The Force of Kindness

2009-06-08T08:11:00.004-05:00

I'm currently reading Sharon Salzberg's book, "The Force of Kindness." What a lovely read.

From Salzberg: "Growing up I had the impression that a kind heart ranked awfully low in cultural desirability, well after a sound head, a sharp wit, invulnerability, power over others, a fine sense of irony, and countless other qualities... Today as well, when we think of adventure, going out on a limb, being bold, being on the edge, it is rarely in the direction of caring, of compassion."

Yet "Kindness is the fuel that helps us truly 'walk our talk' of love, a quality so easy to speak about or extol but often so hard to make real. It helps us to genuinely care for one another and for ourselves as well. Kindness is the foundation of unselfconscious generosity, natural inclusivity, and an unfeigned integrity."

I love her take on kindness. It's such an important quality, yet seemingly not strongly valued by our society. We tend to celebrate people who are, for example, smart, inventive, successful, hard-working, fearless. Yet think of the people in your life who have had the biggest positive impact on you. Did some (or all) of them touch you with kindness and generosity? I think that kindness is actually an unspoken quality that we do truly admire in others and yearn for in ourselves. It's currently unspoken or whispered, because it doesn't feel as upstanding as more traditional qualities of accomplishment, heroism, intelligence, or go-gettem-ness.

I see this within the academic environment. Stereotypically, a "hard" teacher with high expectations is respected more than a kind teacher; a smart, hard-working student is respected more than a thoughtful, generous student. (Clearly, these are broad generalizations, yet they are still food for thought.) I think we can value multiple things at once. My goal as a teacher is to expect a lot from my students (because I believe they can do it) and yet support them not only intellectually, but individually (and with kindness). Using kindness as a teacher does not mean "being easy," "getting no respect from the students," or "coddling the students." I think it means, for example, showing genuine enthusiasm for my discipline and genuine belief in the students' abilities (even if they are far-ranging); working with individual students and allowing them generous space for "aha" moments of their own (without judgment); and knowing when a student is experiencing a personal trauma and making efforts to help the student finish the course with support and help, and also dignity and independence.

I encourage us all to take another look at kindness. How do (even small) acts of kindness impact others? How do you feel when someone does something kind for you? How do you feel when, for example, the check-out person is in a kind, positive mood, rather than a cranky mood? How have people touched your life? Have they sometimes done so with kindness? What has that meant to you? How do you think the world might be different if kindness was a highly-valued quality in people?

There really is a strong force behind kindness. It is not meek. It can have a lasting, powerful impact on others. This quality of kindness not only extends to others, but to ourselves. My previous post was a mindfulness message from Thich Nhat Hanh. He wrote, "The capacity to love others depends on the capacity of loving ourselves." I think the same can be said of kindness: The capacity to be kind to others and to respect kindness in others depends on those same capacities within ourselves. [This is not to say we all won't have cranky days, but there's actually a way to cradle that crankiness in kindness rather than using the crankiness as another tool with which to beat ourselves up.l

Remember that kindness really is a powerful quality. Be proud of your kindness. Celebrate kindness. Admire kindness. Be grateful for kindness. As Salzberg writes, "When we really examine kindness we find it is a deep and abiding understanding of how connected we all are. We see that kindness inspires a sense of ethics independent of any religious adherence, which can guide our families, communities, and the world we live in towards realizing greater safety and peace."

Mindfulness Message

2009-05-29T17:02:00.000-05:00

"The capacity of listening to ourselves is the foundation of the capacity of listening to others. The capacity to love others depends on the capacity of loving ourselves."

Thich Nhat Hanh

Lovely Article on Silence

2009-05-25T10:41:00.004-05:00

My friend, Jeff W., just sent me the link to a wonderful article on silence in the age of twitter, text, cell phones, etc. It's called "In Praise of Silence." Please take the time to read this lovely article--actually, not only to read it, but to spend some time in silence thinking about what it means.

Silently yours...

Time

2009-05-21T09:42:00.002-05:00

When Mark and I take our sabbatical retreats, we enter the land of “no time.” It’s an interesting place to be and one we rarely get to inhabit. The days feel so long and luxurious with no errands to run, email to check, work to do, phone calls to return, etc. When we go out on an adventure (e.g., riding our bikes up the mountain to hike in the rainforest and have a delicious lunch while looking out at the ocean), we never take a watch. In fact, time doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what time we get back to our cottage; it doesn’t matter what time we eat lunch; it doesn’t matter if we make many stops on the way back, just because we feel like it. How glorious. (I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity to do this.)

We’ve gotten used to surprised looks from the locals when we tell them, for example, we walked the hour-long upward hike to the Botanical Garden from our cottage on Long Point, or that we took our 5-speed bikes up 1000 feet of elevation in order to hike in the rainforest and have that delicious lunch. They look at us with a mixture of “wow, that’s pretty cool,” and “you’re just plain crazy.”

I often wonder why people marvel at our island vacation habits (never driving a car—only using our feet and bikes to do everything, including all grocery and laundry runs). But then it hits me that the locals aren’t on vacation—they are at home and working their jobs. That is, they don’t inhabit the same “no-time” land we inhabit. They inhabit the usual “not-enough-time” land that we all inhabit in our daily lives. In fact, when Mark and I are in Appleton, we never bike to the grocery store or walk an hour to get somewhere. [Although, in the spirit of no-time, I’ve recently made bike trips to the Free Market for groceries. But that’s partially because I’m still on sabbatical—that is, no obligations at Lawrence—not in my “real life” yet.]

It does make me wonder why I space-fill so much. Why must I (and we as a society) cram so darn much into an hour, a day, a week? I think it’s because running-around-with-our-heads-cutoff begets more running-around-with-our-heads-cutoff. That is, our strong habits of always doing only strengthen the need to continue the doing. If this is the case, then we can use the same strategy to strengthen different habits. For example, prioritizing some non-doing time each day (whatever that means for you—meditation, yoga, prayer, sitting in nature, taking a silent walk to no where in particular) strengthens the habit of non-doing.

Maybe we can find the happy medium between “no time” and “not enough time.” I think it’s possible. What do you think?

Gratitude Toward Nature (All of It)

2009-05-18T08:51:00.001-05:00

[This was written while on Nevis.] I just took a walk through the beautiful gardens surrounding our cottage on Nevis. I slowly inspected all the different plants—some flowering, some not; some green, some dry; some budding, some with dying flowers. How beautiful it all was. I’m thankful to the sun; the clouds; the rain; the dirt; the plants; the cycle of birth, life, and death; and for the hard work of the gardeners. How lovely to literally be able to stop and smell the roses (well, not roses, but other flowers). We so often rush by nature or only stop to look at the pretty plants.

In her book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver makes many interesting and important points. One thing she briefly mentions is that colleges, companies, businesses, etc. with landscaping (and with money) sometimes dig up plants as soon as they’ve bloomed and replace them with new flowering plants—out with the old, in with the new, so we can always see eye-popping blooms. Interesting point. But I must confess that I love to see blooming plants—flowers are vibrant and beautiful. During my walk today, I also purposely appreciated the dying blooms and the less-healthy plants (or perhaps not-in-season plants).

This seems like a nice life lesson.

"Animal, Vegetable, Miracle"

2009-05-16T11:03:00.002-05:00

While on Nevis, both Mark and I read “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle” by Barbara Kingsolver. It was so inspiring that I must write a brief blog entry about it. If you’re not yet aware of the book, she writes about her and her family’s “year of food,” where they grow and buy (very) locally almost every single thing they eat. She’s a wonderful writer, so it’s an easy read, but it’s also magical, interesting, and entertaining, and she challenges the reader to think more deeply about many seemingly “easy” choices. I highly recommend it!

The Spiral of Life

2009-05-13T11:25:00.002-05:00

On sabbatical, besides doing scholarly/creative work, I’ve done a lot of deep emotional/personal work. It’s actually important for me to have the space on sabbatical to do both these things. Personal work is interesting because you see core issues cycle back through. Sometimes I have the thought, “Man, I already dealt with this difficult issue; do I really need to go here again?” And the answer is of course (if I want to keep moving forward), “yes.”

We talk about a life pathway, but it’s really more of a spiral or some kind of overlapping pathway. As Jennifer Louden says in Comfort Secrets for Busy Women: “Life is a spiral. You keep visiting the same stuff over and over again, but each time you see it from a different perspective.”

There are at least two ways we can look at the spiral of life: 1) There must be something wrong with me if I have to keep dealing with this same issue over and over, or 2) this is a big issue for me and it’s important enough to continue to re-visit—and look how far I’ve come! The latter is a much more positive space to live. Recognizing our growth (even small little steps) is extremely important. Unfortunately, we sometimes get lured into the space of the former outlook, which is not a soul-enriching space to be (it’s an ego-driven place, where we want to “wrap everything up”). And the reality is there’s nothing “wrong” with any of us—as Sharon Salzberg says, “Pain is not a sign of things gone wrong. Our lives are actually a constant succession of pleasure and pain.”

So why not completely celebrate the spiral of life? We all can do it together. Celebrate the small steps forward, the recognition of the steps backward (or sideways), the ways we deal with difficult emotional issues, and the fact that we’ll spend our entire lifetime with these things (and that’s okay!).

Cheers! And namaste (i.e., “the light in me sees the light in you”).

Craving

2009-05-11T16:11:00.002-05:00

During our last sabbatical-5-week retreat, we spent the time on Cat Island (a very small, outer island in the Bahamas). Cat had very few services (no banks, no real groceries stores—more like the convenience stores we know at home, few—and very expensive—car rentals, no hospital or doctor). But this was no big deal—we made it work and thoroughly enjoyed our time on the beautiful island filled with friendly people.

I had Cat in mind as we traveled this time to Nevis (a small island in the West Indies). Although Nevis is small and relatively undeveloped (in terms of tourism), it is no Cat. There are multiple grocery stores where you can get most anything you want (for double the price in the States) and a number of banks. When we arrived, I suggested to Mark that on our first full day here we rent the (reasonably-priced) car that stays with the property. Then we could make a big grocery run and check out the island. This was my first craving. Luckily, Mark convinced me to simply use the bikes provided with the house and make more frequent shopping trips for what we need (only getting as much as we can carry on the bikes—this is what we did on Cat).

Upon riding the bikes, I immediately wished I had my own mountain bike (or at least my comfy seat cover). This was my second craving. My butt was sore, but whatever—I’m in paradise.

During our first visit to the grocery store I realized the variety of food they actually had. At the end of one of the aisles, they had those yummy, long, chocolate-and-hazelnut filled wafers. I thought, “those would be wonderful to dip in my tea.” This was my third craving. Luckily, I came to and realized I don’t even have those at home, so why would I need them on Nevis?

One of our first meals was homemade chili (based on Mark just throwing things together, which he does so well). Just before dinner I realized we didn’t have any sour cream. Egads! This was my fourth craving. Again, I quickly got over it and enjoyed the natural flavor of the chili and homemade cornbread.

Then Mark saw a monkey on the back porch for just a moment (they are quite skittish and scurry away at a small noise). I immediately wanted to see a monkey, even looking at the back porch multiple times over the next hour. This was my fifth craving. Then I realized that it’s better for me to simply let nature unfold—if I see a monkey, great; if not, it’s just no big deal.

And all this was within our first 4 days on the island! Ah, the nature of craving. Wanting something different from what we currently have (even if what we have is paradise). It’s easy for me to recognize and chuckle at these cravings while on leave (since I have so much time and space to be aware of my thoughts and feelings). It’s much harder when I’m in the busyness of my typical life, particularly because advertisers are very good at their jobs and know exactly how to feed into our cravings. How could we possibly live without product X? Look around at American society—we are a bunch of over-consumers.

Mark and I have thought a lot about consumerism recently. We fully realize that we are consumers—we are part of what we think is a societal problem. So what do we do? Well, maybe we can all make small changes in our lifestyles and how we make buying choices. Do we really need product X? Or is it just more stuff that will be discarded quickly and put in a landfill? (And is it really covering up some other need we have—e.g., self-love, connection, dealing with difficult emotions?) Think even about gifts we give others (this is particularly apt for me, as I have nieces and nephews whom I love to spoil). Is a particular gift just more “stuff”? Stuff that probably won’t be used fully and serves simply as a way of assuaging the guilt of not giving a gift? Then maybe that’s not the best (or most thoughtful) gift. Sometimes a hand-written card filled with genuine feelings, a scarf knitted by hand, or homemade cookies are even more special gifts. (I’m still working on this with my nieces and nephews. But books seem to be a good go-to, as they will at least get some use and will be passed on to someone else—rather than thrown away).

Just some things for all of us to think about—both for our own authentic happiness and for the environment.

Busy Mind (Even on Vacation)

2009-05-06T19:42:00.000-05:00

It’s interesting how active the mind is. No matter where you are, no matter how quiet the surroundings, the mind finds things to latch onto; it thinks and generates ideas (not always helpful ones).

As I write this, I am on Nevis, sitting on the front porch of a cottage that is surrounded by gorgeous plants and flowers and that looks at the ocean. It’s 80 degrees with a nice breeze. I am away from home--away from all typical responsibilities (e.g., work, errands, bill-paying, scheduling). And I am here for 5 weeks, so I can really let go.

Yet my mind is active. Active in some wonderful ways (creative ways, intellectual ways, spiritual ways) and in some not-so-helpful ways (judgmental ways, list-making ways, ruminating ways). The mind really is an interesting thing. I completely understand why Buddhist monks can sit in meditation for years at a time, simply observing the mind.

I appreciate this space to actually be present with my thoughts, emotions, and actions. To observe what goes on in the mind and to more clearly delineate thoughts that come from my authentic self and thoughts that come from my ego (doing/judgmental/fearful self).

I wish our society supported more space to be (rather than do). At a time when we’re so advanced technologically, it seems like we could work fewer hours at our jobs, allowing more free time. Yet it’s not only work that saps our “being” time. Our society encourages us to do and accomplish outside of work (e.g., volunteer, over-schedule, involve kids in multiple activities, have multiple hobbies, run many errands). We all feed into this cycle.

Even when someone takes a vacation, the most common first question seems to be, “What did you do while you were there?” And often, people take vacation as another opportunity to do—see more things, check more things off the vacation list, do all the local activities. Perhaps we are so trained to do all the time that even in our downtime, we let doing/ego-mind run the show. Even during vacation.

I can feel that pull while on Nevis. There’s plenty to “do” here (the testimonial book in our cottage is filled with suggestions about places to go and things to do and restaurants to eat at). What if we go home and we haven’t climbed the volcano or done mind-blowing snorkeling or visited all the museums or eaten all the local cuisine? That thought crossed my mind, but it definitely wasn’t a thought from authentic self (it’s all ego/doing-mind).

What did we do on vacation? We read, took mindful walks, watched the ocean, watched the stars, journaled, meditated, talked and listened to the locals, made our own food, exercised (okay, those of you who know me know I prioritize my daily exercise—is this doing-mind? perhaps sometimes), enjoyed each others’ company, swam in the ocean, occasionally hiked, wrote, napped (we did not watch TV, use a cell phone, drive a car, use the Internet). Most importantly, we allowed our authentic selves to run the show. What do we feel like doing today? Well, maybe just reading and napping. Maybe biking into town. Maybe just wait and see what we feel like moment by moment.

This doesn’t make us “good people.” It’s simply an observation that there are many ways to spend a vacation. And perhaps one of those ways is to simply “be”.

Good-Bye, For Now

2009-03-27T08:20:00.003-05:00

As I mentioned in my last post, I am now happily "unplugged" until May 4. Please stop back then to read all my thoughts and insights from quiet life on Nevis. In the meantime, I wish you all as much quiet, rest, mindfulness, rejuvenation, fun, creativity, self-awareness, and space as you can manage during the busyness of day-to-day life.

Be well!

Sabbatical!

2009-03-26T16:24:00.002-05:00

Aah! I'm now officially on sabbatical. [Students: Faculty members get one year of sabbatical for each 6 years they teach. At Lawrence, faculty can take their sabbatical one term at time--so I'm on leave during spring term. During sabbatical, faculty members are free from any official duties at the school--it's faculty time to rejuvenate creatively, professionally, and personally.]

My husband and I leave tomorrow for 5 weeks on Nevis (a small island in the West Indies). Our time will be completely unplugged (no email, Internet, nor TV). We'll simply have each other, snorkeling, hiking, walks on the beach, reading, yoga, running, napping, etc. I plan to write while we're away, so I'll probably have plenty of blog posts upon my return. Also, I have another fun, new research project I'll ponder (it's in the early stages). But otherwise, I plan to rejuvenate personally, physically, and spiritually. I think this is actually a vital part of sabbatical.

Now I'm off to do errands and pack. I'll post a final good-bye tomorrow.

Wonderful Experiment

2009-03-26T16:04:00.003-05:00

I just finished teaching "Applied Statistical Methods" for the first time (it's a statistics-2 course). Typically, I like to have a course carefully outlined (it's the control-freak in me). Luckily, I let the control-freak chill out a little and I took a leap.

Last December, I was contacted by a faculty member at a UW extension school. She needed help with the analysis of survey data. The survey was quite interesting, as it asked about disposal methods of leftover medications (which is a hot topic, both in terms of the environment and in terms of drug abuse). I wasn't exactly sure where the project would go, but I decided to implement this consulting project directly into my class.

During the second half of the term, the four students in the class served as actual consultants, including a face-to-face consulting session, grungy data cleaning, clarifying research questions, analyzing large quantities of data, and writing up an official report.

What a wonderful experience! Some class periods were spent simply talking about the project--the current issues, questions to ask, things to consider, ways to solve grungy problems. I loved it. And I think the students really got an idea of what statistics is about (much more so than if I simply assigned textbook problems).

So the bottom-line is that it was good for me to let go. Let go of knowing exactly how things would play out. In fact, that was the only way to make this the "most real" experience for the students.

I'm really proud of the work the students did. If you're interested, you can check out their final report (be warned, it's pretty data-heavy, as that's what our "consultee" wanted).

Here's to more authentic experiments that involve letting go!

Study Break

2009-03-18T09:25:00.003-05:00

Okay, this picture just makes me laugh out loud, while filling me with warm fuzzies. I thought I'd share it with all y'all.

Busyness, Gratitude, and Generosity

2009-03-17T15:20:00.004-05:00

It's finals week here at Lawrence. Lots of busyness--studying, reading, writing, tutoring sessions, and last-minute packing for spring break. Perhaps paradoxically, this is a great time to actually stop. Stop (at least briefly) and listen to your mind, your body, your spirit. How are they doing amongst all this busyness? How can they best be served while also doing the necessary preparation for finals (e.g., get exercise, enjoy nature, connect with friends)?

Also, busy times are an excellent time to think about gratitude and generosity. As a study break, think of 5 things you're particularly grateful for right at that moment (not necessarily big things--anything you're grateful for). This usually brings a smile to your face and your heart. Do this regularly and you'll smile more often (I guarantee it!).

Below is an excellent quote by Sharon Salzberg (from her book Loving-Kindness):

“Generosity has such power because it is characterized by the inner quality of letting go or relinquishing. Being able to let go, to give up, to renounce, to give generously—these capacities spring from the same source within us. When we practice generosity, we open to all of these liberating qualities simultaneously. They carry us to a profound knowing of freedom, and they also are the loving expression of that same state of freedom.”

During this time of busyness and final exams, can you find the time to be both grateful and generous? You might be surprised how good it makes you feel.

Mindfulness Message

2009-02-26T12:44:00.001-06:00

“What my healing demanded was that I learn to live my life from the inside out, instead of from the outside in. I kept myself captured by feverishly pursuing external objectives. Round and round I went on the little wheel, accomplishing one thing after another. Being inside of it enabled me to forget that I had an inside. It kept me from being wild. And it kept me from being free.”

Dawna Markova
(From No Enemies Within)

Getting Through the Grunge

2009-02-17T19:09:00.003-06:00

We all have tasks that are (for whatever reason) an important part of our job or life, yet are grungy, monotonous, and not fun. For me, grading is such a task. I find it tedious, repetitive, and sometimes frustrating, yet it's an integral part of my work as a teacher. It's imperative that I give students feedback on their thought processes and methods. This is hopefully one of the ways they learn.

What is your grunge? Lab reports? Paying bills? Writing thank-you cards? Email? Statistics homework problems? Errands? Creating a bibliography? Meetings? (I could go on and on. We all have different things that get us excited, different things that bore us to tears, and different things that really bug us.)

If the grunge is not a very important part of your life, then think long and hard about whether it's necessary (why put yourself through the grunge if you don't need to?). I'm all for simplifying life. (In fact, this is a vital process in all our self-reflection: what is really essential? Sometimes we continue patterns simply out of habit, not because they feed us or are even necessary. It's good for us all to take a look at the grunge--and everything else--regularly to see if changes can be made.)

Sometimes, though, the grunge is necessary (e.g., my grading). So what should I do? Slug through the grading until I get cranky and tired? No, that's not good for me, and it's certainly not fair to my students. Still, this is something I struggle with. How do I work compassionately with a task I don't enjoy? Clearly (I think), it's all in the attitude. It's all in the mental junk or mental open space that I bring to the grading. For example, if I view the grading as an important feedback mechanism for both me and my students, if I take frequent breaks so I don't burn out, and if I continue to breath deeply and stay present with the task at hand (rather than letting my mind wander to all the other things I'd rather be doing), then I can get the grading done and stay happy (and I'll probably be more efficient in the process and give better feedback to my students).

Now think about your grunge (whatever it might be). Could you try (perhaps in small ways at first) to embrace the grunge? Do short bursts of the grunge where you stay mindful and not let the mind wander into "hating this" mode? Give it a try. And please let me know how it goes.

Ah, and one other thing. I tend to put off the grading, because I dislike it (I know we all do this kind of thing; in fact, I know some of my statistics students put off studying because they dislike the material). So this is another struggle. What if we all experiment with doing the grunge in a timely manner and staying present with it (and not hating it quite so much--in fact, embracing it in some small way)? This might be crazy talk, but let's give it a try. I think we'll all be happier (and if not happier, at least less cranky). I'm all for a less cranky world!

Reading Period: A Time for Reflection

2009-02-11T16:09:00.004-06:00

It's now officially Reading Period here at Lawrence. Students and faculty have Thursday and Friday off from classes. This provides a welcome (and needed) ease in the schedule, so we can all catch-up, rejuvenate, and take care of our bodies (I noticed a lot of coughing in my class today).

Reading Period also gives a time for reflection. Wow--actual time for reflection! During these next four days, we should all be able to find some quiet time and space (no interruptions, no iPod, no cell phone, etc.) to sit with ourselves and ask important questions. For example...

Am I making decisions based on what is most important to me?

Do I feel balanced (in mind, body, and spirit)?

If I feel unbalanced, what thing feels most out-of-whack (and how might I make a small step to change this in a positive way)?

What are the big concepts I've learned in each of my classes and how do these concepts tie together?

What courses, topics, assignments, etc. have I struggled with and why?

What courses, topics, assignments, etc. have come easily to me and have I enjoyed the most (and why)?

What small changes could I make in my personal and academic lives that would give me the balance needed to "successfully" (broad vision of "successful" here) make it through this term?

If you allow yourself some quiet, reflective time, you might be surprised at what arises. I encourage you to take this time.

Thoughts on Intolerance

2009-02-08T19:25:00.002-06:00

Last weekend, Mark and I went to see the movie "Milk" (based on the life of Harvey Milk, the first openly-gay man elected to public office in California). The movie is excellent, particularly the acting by Sean Penn.

I came away from the movie feeling very sad. Sad that people can be so intolerant of and so terribly mean to each other. The movie depicts events that happened in the 1970s, yet it's quite relevant today. While watching the movie and the undeserved mistreatment of homosexuals, I was reminded of the gay marriage bans that have recently passed in so many states (including Wisconsin). I find these bans incredibly disheartening (and mean-spirited), as if we're moving backward rather than forward.

Why are we (the human race) so capable of being mean to each other? I think because we don't always understand each other. Because we're sometimes fearful of things different from us, different from our view of the world, different from what we've been told is right (by someone at sometime). But acting from fear generally leads to negative consequences (both for ourselves and for others).

Think about how judgment affects you (physically, emotionally, and spiritually). For me, judgment seems to suck the air out of the room, creates a pit in my stomach, and makes me wonder whether I'll be judged next (or, if I'm already being judged, what I'll be judged about next).

Yet we all do it -- we all judge. We all have some intolerance lurking in us. So I challenge myself and all of you to examine that judgment. Closely examine where it comes from (in what situations does it come up, when is it better or worse, is it reasonable, is it really about the person being judged or is it really about me, the judger?). I think if we all more often recognize our intolerance (even small intolerance) and thoroughly examine the intolerance, then the world can be a much more empathetic and compassionate place.

Here's to lots and lots of tolerance!

Must-Read for the Lawrence Community

2009-01-22T12:40:00.002-06:00

Brian Pertl (Lawrence's new, creative, thoughtful, reflective, kind, talented Dean of the Conservatory) recently wrote a blog post that is a must-read for all in the Lawrence Community. Please read it now (or at the earliest convenience in your very busy schedule :)).

[Thanks, PG, for the heads up on the post.]

Walking my Talk

2009-01-17T15:43:00.004-06:00

As I've mentioned before, I have a group of about 50 people to whom I regularly email "Mindfulness Messages"--passages I've recently read that have spoken to me in a deep or personal way. Here is a recent quote I sent:

"Telling someone to rest, to stop doing, while you are racing by and doing more is not effective. How we live with what is determines what ripples out into the world, determines whether or not our touching others will allow them to experience a moment of their own essential stillness and the peace and meaning this stillness holds."
--Oriah Mountain Dreamer, From "The Call: Discovering Why You Are Here"

More often than I like to think, I'm the person telling others to rest, rejuvenate, and say "no" while I continue (in certain ways) to do, not be. It's still easy for me to get caught up in "doing mode" (I consider "doing mode" to be a space where I no longer enjoy--and am no longer present with--the task/activity I'm performing). These days I'm more aware that I'm in "doing mode," but this awareness doesn't always pull me out. The allure of getting lots of things done takes me into "doing mode," thinking I'll be happy when I'm finished. Inevitably, though, when I'm finished I feel unhappy--tense, anxious, and not authentic.

I know "doing mode" is part of human nature, so I try to forgive myself, chuckle, and move on. Recently, I've started each work day by prioritizing the 2-4 things that must be done that day (either because they are necessary for some aspect of my job or for my well-being). Then I try not to get sucked into the vortex of the 15 other small to-do items that look so appealing, yet I know will take me into "doing mode." For me, email is an easy way to fall into that vortex. So I'm trying to check email fewer times during the day. And I'm trying to more regularly take time (even just a minute) to breathe, stretch, and just "be" while at the office.

These are my biggest struggles at work recently. Do others find themselves in similar situations? I share all this because I want to be honest about what is still difficult for me (even after making many positive, healthful changes in my life). We're all on evolving paths that naturally have ups and downs. Nobody has "all their shit together" (some may appear to outwardly, but we all have struggles). It's important to remember we're in this together. Often our ego tries to isolate us while we struggle (this gives ego, fear, and anxiety more space to grow), but it's community, sharing, and generosity (among others things) that can bring us back.

I open this space for anyone who wants to share their current struggles or their current joys.

Mindfulness Message to Accompany Last Post

2009-01-11T09:25:00.003-06:00

In my last post, I wrote how each person must find his/her own way (but we can come together as a community to offer support for each other and pose interesting questions). The quote below encapsulates well my thoughts on finding and navigating our own paths.

"One morning, shaking my head at the length of my journey to discover the truth in something I had been told years before, I think to myself, 'Does each of us have to reinvent the wheel?' Even as the question comes I know the answer is yes. Yes, each of us needs to experience the truth for ourselves, each of us needs to follow our own path to self-realization even though the self we realize is in essence identical to and not truly separate from all others. There is simply no way to get there except by going through the process yourself."
Oriah Mountain Dreamer, From "The Call: Discovering Why You Are Here"

Clarification of Last Post and Call for More Counter-Culture Comments

2009-01-10T12:05:00.006-06:00

After my last blog post, a student wrote a thoughtful and important comment (please check it out). To all my readers, I sincerely apologize if my posts ever seem heavy-handed. Truly, it is not my intention to tell anyone how to live their lives. We all must find our own personal paths and honor these paths. My posts are meant to simply spark reflection and thought about things we all might want to consider, even if we're on completely different paths.

As I've said before, some people really thrive and are happy when they work hard, do things well, and maintain a busy schedule. I don't judge or question that lifestyle. My main point is for us all -- including myself -- to live an examined (not an unexamined) life. I think it's helpful for us to often ask ourselves where we are on our current path and if things seem to be working well. The examples I give from my life are only examples -- that is, they are not a prescription of what everyone should do. We all must take stock of our lives (and what "balance" means to us) and make our own individual way (which can take different forms for different people).

Furthermore, if self-care and balance and reflection ever feel like more to-do items, then that's a clear sign to step away and rethink things (I know this from personal experience -- last summer I struggled at times with my meditation becoming another to-do item and this was definitely a source of suffering for me). If reading this blog becomes a to-do item and source of judgment of how your life isn't in balance, then I suggest you stop reading and start listening to your own inner voice. I'm not at all offended if you must step away from my posts in order to find your authentic path (in fact, I encourage this!).

This all said, I'd still love to hear counter-culture comments (see my last post if you're not sure what this means). Remember, your counter-culture comments might be very different from mine and that's just fine.

Be Proud of a Balanced Life

2009-01-08T15:33:00.004-06:00

I've written a lot about life balance, including adding more stillness, pause, reflection, creativity, and love in our often busy lives. Unfortunately (in my eyes), sometimes overwork seems to be a badge of honor here at Lawrence (amongst both students and faculty). People proudly talk about working long hours, keeping a plethora of balls in the air, and sacrificing personal time in order to check one more thing off the to-do list.

I would love to start a counter-culture here at Lawrence. A culture that takes its work seriously, yet says "no" to things that begin to infringe on personal time and growth; a culture that works hard, yet also "plays" hard; a culture that is proud of taking downtime and creating a simpler life; a culture that doesn't pretend it can healthfully and sustainably "do it all" and "do it all perfectly."

I'll start: I proudly make time for 5-6 workouts a week (me time, de-stress time) and for a weekly massage (how decadent!); I proudly try to work as few weekends as possible, so I can spend quality time with myself, my husband, and my friends; I proudly close my office door and even ignore knocks if I need alone time or I need to focus on my work; I proudly try to simplify the commitments in my life (I say "no," so I can genuinely say "yes" to the things most precious to me); I proudly spend 5 weeks of each sabbatical with my husband on a small island in the Caribbean (reading books, taking walks on the beach, meditating, and relaxing).

Would anyone else like to join me? Please post counter-culture comments. Let's proudly say "yes" to a balanced life!

Disclaimer: As you probably know if you read my blog often, this is not an exercise in being proud of skipping class regularly, blowing off commitments, or standing up a friend. In addition to being proud of the things mentioned above, I'm also proud of how committed and passionate I am about teaching, how organized I am as a department/committee chairperson, etc. But I'm just as proud of the steps I've taken to lead a more balanced life.

Holiday Mindfulness Message

2008-12-23T09:25:00.002-06:00

This is a time of year for many people to share company, laughter, joys, reflections, and gratitude. Yet in the (self-imposed? societally-encouraged?) rush of the holiday season, it's easy to lose our presence of mind and gratitude for and enjoyment of the little things in life.

Sylvia Boorstein, a terrific author and Buddist teacher, talks of a quote she saw while on a meditation retreat. It's simple, yet very powerful:

"Life is so difficult, how can we be anything but kind?"

Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you have a restful and joyful break.

Study Break

2008-12-10T07:59:00.003-06:00

Everyone needs an occasional study (or grading) break, right? Note: If you aren't taking some stress-relief breaks, then you'll be less productive and more cranky--I know this from experience.

Here's something everyone can enjoy--an adorable picture of a sleeping koala bear. I hope it brings a smile to your face. (Koalas were my very favorite animal growing up--I had about 30 koala stuffed animals. So this picture brings a special warmth to my heart, and I share this with all of you. :))

Wonderful Example of Making a Difference in the World

2008-12-09T15:40:00.002-06:00

Last Saturday Lawrence students hosted an alternative giving fair, where people were treated to heartfelt stories of human suffering and hopeful methods of relieving this suffering. The idea was for people to consider (as holiday gifts) donations to any of the wonderful causes represented at the fair.

I felt proud when I walked in the room on Saturday--proud to see Lawrence students so committed to making the world a better place. And to see them encouraging alternative holiday gifts (rather than the encouragement we get at the mall to buy more and bigger and better "stuff"). This great event was hosted by the student group, Students' War Against Hunger and Poverty (SWAHP -- http://www.lawrence.edu/sorg/swahp/).

I was especially proud of two Lawrence students, Oliver and Rebecca Zornow, for their commitment to the development of the Caneille region of Haiti. Oliver started this project when he was a senior in high school. (When I was a senior in high school, I remember being concerned about my hair, my friends, my athletic endeavors, my academics, etc., but not with making the world a better place.) This is an example of one person (and now multiple people) making a difference in the world -- actually making the lives of people in Haiti better. We should all consider this example when we get in the negative mindset that our individual actions can't really make a difference. The reality is that we can positively change the world, one person at a time. Please check out Oliver and Rebecca's great work: http://www.caneille.org/

Mindfulness Message

2008-12-09T15:23:00.002-06:00

Alas, I have not made the time to blog in the last few weeks, even though I have thoughts I want to share. This is an example of me not prioritizing something that is quite important to me (instead, I've let the other to-do stuff take over). But life is a learning process, right? I hope to blog more in the next couple weeks. In the meantime, here is a mindfulness message:

“We make a lot of mistakes. If you ask people whom you consider to be wise and courageous about their lives, you may find that they have hurt a lot of people and made a lot of mistakes, but that they used those occasions as opportunities to humble themselves and open their hearts. We don’t get wise by staying in a room with all the doors and windows closed.”

Pema Chodron
(From Start Where You Are)

Hope, Not Fear

2008-11-06T12:39:00.004-06:00

I have hesitated to write about the election, as I never want my students to feel they must agree with me politically (or in any other non-academic part of my life). That is, I would never judge a student in my class if he/she held differing political, spiritual, or personal beliefs than I do (and I would certainly never allow any of those things to enter into a class grade).

So with that big caveat, I do want to say a few things about the recent presidential election. I think elections can often divide people rather than bring them together. In fact, I must confess that a small part of my excitement last Tuesday night was that my "team" won. But the biggest part of my excitement was that I completely believe (with my heart, mind, and soul) in Barack Obama, as both a leader and as a person. He really is about hope, about getting things done while listening to all sides, about positive change--that is, he is about hope, not fear. I think fear is the overwhelming emotion our society has felt in the last 7 years (fear for safety, fear of others not "like" us--both in and out of the US, etc.).

Fear is an overpowering emotion. It isolates us and traps us in "small mind" (unable to see the bigger picture and to feel empathy and compassion). Fear is what the Bush administration so successfully played to in the American people. Fear is what the 24-hour news networks also play to. (In addition, fear is what many marketers play to. For example, "buy this face cream so you don't look so old" or "buy this magazine so you can lose 10 pounds and then be happy".)

When Barack Obama was elected president (and during his whole campaign) I felt a shift in the collective attitude of people--a shift from fear to hope. From hatred to love. I know this sounds a bit over-reaching, but that's the feeling I have, and it makes me very happy. Kindness is such a better place to work from than fear. With kindness and hope we can bring people together (rather than isolating them with fear), and we can create a space where people feel comfortable again--comfortable just being themselves. Then all our work becomes more efficient and effective.

In past posts I've talked about giving loving-kindness a try (rather than the often-used self-flagellation methods of motivation). Try working with loving-kindness --both toward yourself and toward others. After Tuesday night, I feel like the country is trying out loving-kindness, rather than fear, and that honestly brings tears of joy to my eyes.

Lawrence's Healthy Balance Statement

2008-11-05T16:13:00.002-06:00

Students at Lawrence learn and grow in a variety of ways (both academic and non-academic) while at college. Life at Lawrence (and in general) can be fast-moving and busy, so it’s important to prioritize regular, reflective personal time (something I've mentioned in previous blog entries). A committee at Lawrence recently wrote a statement on “healthy balance” (for the whole community--students, staff, and faculty), which I completely endorse:

http://www.lawrence.edu/fast/jordanj/healthybalance.html

Joy's Witch Laugh (I Love Halloween!)

2008-10-30T10:32:00.007-05:00

One of my secret talents is that I can do a really good, obnoxious, piercing witch laugh. (My husband can attest to the piercing part--he declares it should only be done outdoors and when he isn't around.) I decided to record this laugh for all y'all to hear (note: the recording is of low quality). Before you listen, though, please realize it is loud and piercing, so you might want to adjust the sound volume. Here it is: Joy's Witch Laugh.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays (always has been since I was a young kid). I love the spookiness and electricity surrounding the day. As a middle-school student I voraciously read books in the library about ghost stories. If you have any personal ghost stories, please share them with me!

Mindfulness Message

2008-10-30T10:01:00.001-05:00

“We often look elsewhere for what we have already; we project. We turn to others to give us a level of acceptance we can only give ourselves. We invest people, institutions, situations, and things with certain attributes that they might indeed have, yet which do not belong solely to them but to us as well. We attribute to others flaws we need to come to terms with in our own character; we credit others with fine qualities that we are unable to acknowledge in ourselves; we turn to institutions and leaders to give us answers, to rescue us from confusion and helplessness, to bring a level of meaning and order that can come only from within. Every time we reclaim some of our own energies, stop projecting onto others attributes of ourselves, we become more whole, more present.”

Jill Mellick
(From “Coming Home to Myself”)

Quick Comment about Comments

2008-10-30T09:55:00.002-05:00

Please know that I closely read all the comments left on my blog. In the last couple weeks, I chose two particular comments to which I wrote long responses, but this doesn't mean I don't read and value the other comments that have been left on the blog. The bottom line is that I appreciate (and thoughtfully read) all comments left for me (positive, negative, or neutral), and I encourage others to comment on the comments (as well as on my blog).

Response Part 2 -- Practical Suggestions

2008-10-27T16:50:00.004-05:00

This is the second part of a response to a particular set of questions from a student:

"But how can we as students make time for ourselves while the everyday demands only grow and grow? I can work on being "good enough" for myself (just by being me), but how do I handle the message given to us from graduate schools and employers that we aren't quite good enough for them? How is it possible to compete with our peers if we prioritize our own well-being? Do you think it is possible?"

In my last response I gave some true confessions about my own life. In this post, I'll offer some practical suggestions on this topic (for students and people, in general). Before I put in my two cents, though, I want to quote my wise friend and colleague, Jeff Witmer, who already wrote a comment on my blog in response to the student:

"The best advice that I've read on this is a quote from Tom Stoppard: 'Don't chase success; if you chase excellence, success will chase you.' Thus, to the question 'How is it possible to compete with our peers if we prioritize our own well-being?' I would say that you should be competing (if you want to use that word) with yourself, not with others.Think about what you want, what motivates you, where your talent lies, and do that thing, with joy and enthusiasm. We often see people who _appear_ to be good at everything, or at least at many things. But the world actually rewards the person who does one thing extremely well, not the person who does many things reasonably well. And the person who loves something and does it well achieves fulfillment -- which is well beyond contentment and is even beyond happiness."

I include this quote from Jeff, because I'm in complete agreement. What I encourage students to do is really think (not just with the mind but with the heart) about what they enjoy, what they have aptitude for, what gets them excited, etc. For example, do you (this is a general "you") want to attend medical school, because one of your parents is a doctor (or you have a whole family of doctors) or because it seems like a job that is well-respected by society or because you're not sure what else to do or because you're passionate about the work and the potential of helping people? If it's the last reason, then medical school is an appropriate priority and studying hard to learn material and earn high grades might take up much of (but certainly not all) of your time in college. If it's one of the other reasons, then you should really rethink the whole medical school idea (which will then potentially shift your priorities and where you spend your time).

I understand that our current society has (sometimes unreasonably) high standards for amount of hours worked, number of achievements accumulated, etc. But often the expectations are different for each career field. I already mentioned that medical schools place great emphasis on grades and GMAT scores. In another job field, the emphasis might be on co-curricular experiences (e.g., leadership positions, volunteer activities, summer internships), yet not quite so much on ending GPA. That is, I think there are few post-college opportunities where society expects you to excel completely in every single aspect of your life. So the important exercise for students is to think deeply about where they'd like to be after college (both personally and career-wise) and then create appropriate priorities while in college. And this is a process you can continue for your whole life. [Note: I realize there are some professions that really ask you t0 highly excel in many areas (e.g., astronaut, brain surgeon, high political office). In these cases, it might not be feasible to have a large amount of "balance" in your life. But that is a choice you can make with their eyes wide open. Do you love the work so much that you can sacrifice balance in other areas?]

So here are my wrap-up points:
1. Take time to reflect on what you are passionate about and what you value the most (personally, academically, professionally, spiritually, etc.). Then take steps to prioritize that (or those) thing(s). It's possible that these steps might not position you for a job in an uber-competitive field (but then you should rethink whether that field meshes with what matters the most to you).

2. There will be times when you feel out of balance and overwhelmed (we all do), but work to make these only short periods of time (if the overwhelm lasts too long, then it becomes unhealthful and makes you inefficient). Have some "check in" procedure as your compass (e.g., journaling, talking with a close friend).

3. This Gandhi quote is sometimes overused, but it's still a good one: "Be the change you want to see in the world." Once you get into this work society that has such high expectations (and that doesn't necessarily value wellness, balance, and mental health) you can help make the changes. You can value your own personal time and respect that of others. You can change the expectations placed on others (and on yourself). This is how change happens--one person at a time. I know this sounds a bit pie-in-the-sky, but I really, really believe it, and I'd love to convince others to believe it, too.

Response Part 1 -- True Confessions

2008-10-26T20:59:00.003-05:00

As referenced in my last post, a student made some insightful comments and asked some good questions:

"But how can we as students make time for ourselves while the everyday demands only grow and grow? I can work on being 'good enough' for myself (just by being me), but how do I handle the message given to us from graduate schools and employers that we aren't quite good enough for them? How is it possible to compete with our peers if we prioritize our own well-being? Do you think it is possible?"

I've decided to address these questions in two parts (which may turn into more parts as I keep thinking about it). First of all, I must make some confessions. I have been a classic "overachiever" my whole life. In high school I graduated at the top of my class, while also playing 3 sports, singing in the choir, participating in drama, and being on the student council. I earned a full-ride athletic scholarship to Indiana University, where I played volleyball and graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a mathematics degree. Then I went onto the University of Iowa to earn my PhD in statistics, before landing this job at Lawrence. Finally, I became an active member of the Lawrence community, working hard for and earning tenure a few years ago. All while being the best friend, wife, and family member I could be and always having a smile on my face. Phew!

So I fully confess that while in college, I was completely on the hamster-wheel/treadmill of life. I did not truly love myself and I pushed myself very hard. Slowly, at the end of college and the beginning of graduate school, I realized that I simply couldn't keep up the pace. Then began my (sometimes slow) personal, self-reflective, spiritual path that continues today. And my next true confession is that I didn't fully realize I could get off the hamster-wheel until I received tenure here at Lawrence (the "last" big hurdle--although I'm kidding myself if I think I can ever do "one last thing" and then be happy). Somehow, after having the security of tenure and having walked down my personal path long enough, I began to let go of my clinging to "doing/achieving" mode.

Here I am, at 39 years old, having done very hard personal and self-reflective work to get to my current place, yet I'm asking college students to consider and apply the very insights it took me years to find. Is this fair? Is this reasonable?

My thinking is that I'd love for students to at least consider these possibilities (e.g., non-doing, loving-kindness, self-reflection). I'd love for these ideas to plant at least some small seeds inside the hearts, minds, and souls of students (and all people). Perhaps these seeds will bloom now or perhaps they'll sit dormant until a more appropriate time to bloom. I think I would have benefited greatly from hearing these possibilities while I was in college. Might then I have changed my treadmill attitude sooner? Perhaps, perhaps not. Might I have relaxed my ego-driven need for success? Perhaps, perhaps not. Might I have not gotten my PhD or not gotten tenure? Perhaps, perhaps not. Might I have changed my career or life path? Perhaps, but would it really matter, as long as I was authentic and true to myself and happy?

Another true confession is that I still, daily, work on awareness and breathwork and experiencing the moment. Some days I completely lose myself in my job; I don't take a deep breath all day. Other days I'm present for many of my experiences and I inhabit my body in a mindful way. Other days are in-between.

As an example, on Friday afternoon, I needed to finish some work, but I really longed to blog (this blog has been the most fun creatively I've had in a long time). By the time I got to my blog it was 5:15 (at the end of what was a long day). If I had taken a moment to truly check in with myself, I would have realized that I was exhausted and it would have been a more healthful choice for me to simply go home and relax, rather than blog. Instead, I let my "to-do" mind drive me (I planned to write in my blog and it was going to be fun, so dammit I was going to blog). I tried to log on to blogspot, only to be told there was very heavy usage and I must try back again. I kept re-trying for the next 10 minutes, getting crankier and crankier. Finally, I just sat back from my computer and started laughing. My wonderful creative outlet had been taken over by extreme "doing" mode. Even if I had gotten onto blogspot, I wasn't in the appropriate emotional state from which I could write creatively and effectively. There I was, after all my hard personal work, right back on the treadmill of life. And so it goes. This is not something that changes overnight or ever changes permanently. Awareness is a constant (yet changing) work in progress.

Insightful Student Comment

2008-10-26T20:41:00.004-05:00

After my post "Why a Class Day Off Isn't Necessarily the answer," a student left an insightful and heartfelt comment. If you haven't yet seen the comments made about that particular post, please go read them now. I'm pleased to see students responding to my posts, but I must admit that this particular comment spoke to me deeply. It breaks my heart to think of all the pressures students face while preparing for life in a society that currently values "standard" forms of "high" achievement. (See my Baccaulareate Address for my thoughts on redefining success and achievement.) I've thought a lot about this particular student comment, and I think I'll respond in a sequence of posts.

Happy Pause--Cute Baby Animals

2008-10-23T12:47:00.004-05:00

Who can possibly resist cute baby animals? http://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/us_world/Zoo_Babies.html

Just thought I'd give y'all (and myself) a brief, happy pause to look at cute animals.

PS I'm not sure how long this weblink will stay "live," so if you get to this post at a later date there might not be cute animals, but you can still imagine the warm, fuzzy feeling they would have given you.

Why a Class Day Off Isn't Necessarily the Answer

2008-10-22T16:11:00.007-05:00

In response to my "10-Week Push" blog entry, anonymous (whom I assume is a student) wrote: "You should give us a day off then." I certainly welcome any and all comments, and I appreciate this one. It made me think about why a class day off is really more of a band-aid (or Neosporin, which temporarily relieves pain), rather than a long-term fix.

Sure, a day off is nice for everyone. It provides a bit of ease in everyone's very busy schedules. Sometimes I do decide to give a day off (or at least let the class out quite a bit early). Other times, I don't, because I'd rather teach the material I love (at a reasonable pace).

Rather than the day-off approach, I suggest we all reorient our priorities (which will be different from individual to individual). Some students might prioritize all their courses and the complete understanding of each concept. Other students might put reasonable work into their courses, but prioritize their extra-curricular activities (e.g., ensembles, athletics, student groups, volunteerism). Still other students might prioritize certain courses within their major or special area of interest. And I hope we can all prioritize at least some minimal requirements that keep us balanced (e.g., exercise, journaling, quiet time, reflection, laughing with friends).

As a teacher, I don't judge the priorities of any given student. That is, I don't expect each student to spend every waking moment thinking about and studying statistics. I know my course won't be a priority for some students and that's okay. But if it is a priority, then I will do everything in my power to help a student understand the material.

I think we often get caught up in the idea that we can "do it all." That we can get As in all our courses while (for example) being an RLA and chairing a student committee and singing in the choir and having a healthy social life and exercising and sleeping 8 hours a night and... (you get the picture). A day off from class doesn't help with this general mentality. It's the mentality that I'd like to see change (both at an individual and a societal level). Here's the hard truth: none of us can really "do it all," and if we try there are typically negative consequences on our mental and physical health.

So, I agree that breaks are necessary--we must have some time to rest and rejuvenate. But is a day off from class the best answer to the 10-Week Push? Perhaps, but only as a quick, temporary fix. The bigger-picture fix is for all of us (students, faculty, and staff) to reflect thoughtfully on our lives and our priorities and our own needs for balance (and recognize that we can't do it all and that's okay - it doesn't mean we're bad people, it simply means we know and value what is important to each of us individually).

Right now, I give you all permission to unabashedly not do it all. And I will challenge myself to do the same. The reason I can write so much on this topic is that I've spent much of my life under the misperception that I really can get everything done and done well. But this drive doesn't come from a centered, authentic self. It comes directly from ego, telling us that if we just do more and push harder, then we'll be happy. But why not be happy right now, in this moment?

Explanation of Mindfulness Messages

2008-10-16T10:08:00.004-05:00

I read a lot of books on meditation, Buddhist dharma, self-reflection, the spiritual and personal journey, and living life fully. From these books, I've collected a number of quotations that have spoken to me (in one particular moment of my life or in all moments of my life). I periodically send these "Mindfulness Messages" to an email list of about 50 of my friends. I thought it worthwhile to also occasionally post these to my blog (where the quotation is the only blog entry). If you're a Daily Dish follower, you can think of these as "Mental Health Breaks" or if you're a Daily Show follower, you can think of these as "Moments of Zen."

Here's the first of my Mindfulness Message posts:
“There are so few empty pages in my engagement pad, or empty hours in the day, or empty rooms in my life in which to stand alone and find myself. Too many activities, and people, and things. Too many worthy activities, valuable things and interesting people. For it is not merely the trivial which clutters our lives but the important as well. We can have a surfeit of treasures—an excess of shells, where one or two would be significant.”

Anne Morrow Lindbergh
(From Gift from the Sea)

The 10-Week Push

2008-10-15T16:27:00.006-05:00

At Lawrence, our academic year consists of three 10-week terms (we meet for 70 minutes at a pop, rather than the 50 minutes at semester-calendar schools). Terms are intense for both faculty and students (although probably not as intense as the "blocks" that our colleagues at Colorado College and Cornell College teach). We hit the ground running the first day of class and often take no time to look back or look around or breathe.

The idea of covering lots of material is alluring to faculty members. Why? Because we're really enthusiastic about what we teach, and we're excited to impart this knowledge (in multiple ways) to our students. Also, because we faculty are not immune to "doing mind" (in fact, we're quite good at it), part of the coverage issue is that we simply want to cram more in and do more and feel more "accomplishment" at the end of a day or term. (Because I always look on the bright side, I think the first reason--enthusiasm and excitement--is really more of a driving factor for us faculty.)

I noticed this week that my students look exhausted--they are tired and sick and have started to feel overwhelmed by upcoming assignments and exams. Even my classroom style of jumping around and cheerleading about statistics couldn't keep them from occasionally deeply closing their eyes (and then opening them quickly). And when I take a moment to center myself and breathe, I realize that I am exhausted, too.

So this is a good time for us all to take a collective deep breath. Maybe we all have a lot more choices than we think we do. (Jennifer Louden quote: "You always have choices, especially when it feels like you don't.") Perhaps we can sneak in a little more sleep, a little more quiet time, a little less "coverage" of course material, in order to rejuvenate and ultimately be more efficient in our work.

I often need to stop myself when I look at my syllabus and see that we're lagging a bit behind. Stop myself and realize that students typically take away big ideas from my class (not all the small little details that I find particularly important). It's not that I won't mention all the details. It's just that there's no reason to push forward and cram more in simply to stay on the somewhat arbitrary schedule I set at the beginning of the term. The students are getting good stuff (well, at least I think it's all good stuff), regardless of where we end up (material-wise) in the end.

Stillness

2008-10-09T10:00:00.003-05:00

My last post ended with a quote from Jon Kabat-Zinn (respected scientist, writer, and meditation teacher). This time I'll start with a quote (again from his book Full Catastrophe Living):

“Our schools do not emphasize being. We are left to sort that one out by ourselves. It is doing that is the currency of modern education. Sadly, though, it is a fragmented doing for the most part, divorced as it is from any emphasis on who is doing the doing and from what we might learn in the domain of being. So often the doing is under the pressure of time, as if we were being pushed through our lives by the pace of the world, without the luxury of stopping and taking our bearings, of knowing who is doing the doing. Awareness itself is not highly valued, nor are we taught the richness of it and how to nurture and use it.”

It is so easy to fall into "doing mode." (I work on this daily--sometimes I'm aware of it, other times I'm not.) This "doing mode" is culturally accepted (and, in fact, encouraged), so you might even feel a little guilty trying out the "being mode." Right here, right now, I give you all guilt-free permission to experiment with "being mode." Doing, busy society be damned--let's start a revolution of being.

How can you start? Perhaps simply by spending five minutes each day sitting with yourself (computers, cell phones, iPods, music all off), attending to your breath and how your body and mind are feeling (and thinking). Just checking in with yourself each day (in a still, "being" way) can be a helpful thing. You can also take mindful walks (without the iPod and without talking). Fall is a beautiful time on campus--take a short walk where you really notice the colors of the trees and the coolness of the air and the wind on your face and your breath working it's way through your body.

Without some stillness and reflection time, it's difficult to process personal issues as well as academic issues. That is, stillness can help you both personally and academically. With difficult academic topics, you often need time and space to really think (in an open, unconfined way) in order to understand. And on a personal level, it's difficult to work with your emotions, make important decisions, and follow your heart if you aren't tuned in with your body and mind through some sort of stillness/being practice.

Busyness

2008-10-09T09:29:00.004-05:00

In general, I'm concerned about the culture of busyness, both within our broader society and within the Lawrence community. Technology now easily allows for almost constant breaks in the silence: cell phones, text messaging, email, FaceBook, instant messaging, iPods (and I'm sure I'm missing many others). Furthermore our students (and faculty and staff) are involved in many, many projects at once: classes, work-study jobs, co-curricular activities, student groups, athletics, theatre and music performances, applying to graduate school, etc. These are all wonderful, enriching activities (and I encourage students to do what they love), but sometimes too much of even a good thing can be too much.

Some students can manage this busy daily schedule (some even seem to delight in it), but for many others I see a level of stress and anxiety build. An anxiety that perhaps builds slowly, so as to go unnoticed by the students ("everything is just fine"), but then eventually hits hard physically, mentally, and emotionally. And the sneaky thing about the stress/anxiety is that it really can feel like it comes out of the blue (it convinces you to keep going and pushing up until your very last fingernail is hanging off the cliff).

The key to not let the anxiety "sneak up" is to try your very best to be self-aware--aware of your body, of your breath, of your thoughts, of your emotions. But if there's only busyness and no stillness in your life, then it's very difficult to be self-aware. This is why I'm concerned with the culture of busyness.

I'll end with a quote by Jon Kabat-Zinn, who is a well-respected scientist (professor of medicine), writer, and meditation teacher. This quote is from his book Full Catastrophe Living:

“Simplifying our lives in even little ways can make a big difference. If you fill up all your time, you won’t have any. And you probably won’t even be aware of why you don’t. Simplifying may mean prioritizing the things that you have to and want do to and, at the same time, consciously choosing to give certain things up. It may mean learning to say no sometimes, even to things you want to do or to people you care about and want to help so that you are protecting and preserving some space for silence, for non-doing.”

Why Not Experiment with Loving-Kindness?

2008-10-06T16:37:00.006-05:00

At dinner last night, my husband (who I'll refer to by name--Mark--from now on in this blog) talked with me about my last blog post--particularly about his perceived (and yet unresolved) dissonance between loving-kindness/non-judgement/mindfulness and the ability to actually "get things done" (e.g., move society forward through medical breakthroughs, etc.). Per usual, Mark makes an excellent point. (He's always getting me to think about things in new ways and to really defend my position--a quality I love about him.)

So, if we all (as a society) really worked on loving ourselves (deeply, not in a surface, egotistical way) as well as loving others, would we all just turn into coach potatoes (simply eating Cheetos, watching TV, and laying on the couch all day, every day)? My answer is "no." I think there is space for loving-kindness and achievement (that is, "getting things done"). It's just that the creative work then comes from a much more positive place in yourself (rather than a negative place of "I'm not good enough, so I better get this done"). And I think we'd enjoy the work more and be more efficient.

So my challenge to y'all (including Mark) is to give this a try. Practice motivating yourself not out of self-hatred (or embarrassment or judgment), but out of self-love and loving-kindness. See what happens. (By the way, this is an experiment that takes quite a while, as the journey is a difficult one.) Do you still get things done? Do you still have ideas and creativity and motivation? If so, great! If not (and I'd like to talk with you more about how this didn't work), then you can simply write me off as some kooky (but well-meaning) stats professor with rose-colored glasses.

Grades and Misplaced Self-Worth

2008-10-04T16:23:00.005-05:00

In the past couple years, I've explicitly talked with my students about (and now include in my syllabus) the important fact that they are not their grades. That is, their self-worth is not attached to a grade they get on a particular test or paper, or in a class, or even in their GPA at the end of college. In fact, their self-worth is not tied to any external achievements. They are all good, lovable people, just as they are. This is an important point for all of us to remember (I still sometimes struggle by equating myself with my job as a teacher and judging myself if I make a mis-step).

Does this mean students shouldn't care about learning or preparing for assignments? Of course not. For students who really want to be in college, learning is the key (learning both in and out of the classroom). And I will do all I can to encourage learning and to help students learn concepts and ideas (statistical ideas, in my case).

But it's important for college students (any students) to realize that their self-worth, their soul, their goodness is not tied to performance. Learn, learn, learn, yes! But don't create anxiety and extra pressure by tying personal goodness to the learning process. This is, of course, easier said than done. Unfortunately, there are messages throughout society that people are equated to outcomes (if you're not quite "good enough," then you can buy some new lotion or gadget or workout equipment to improve yourself). Furthermore, there are messages within academics that students are defined by their achievement in the classroom (GPAs "needed" for graduate school, constant comparison with other students, explicit messages from professors and advisors that students "aren't good enough" to make it through a particular class).

Let's stop the madness! Let's stop thinking of our students as floating brains in our classrooms with no other interests, commitments, talents, and goodness. Let's encourage them to learn for learning's sake, yet to believe deep within themselves that they are good people, regardless of outcomes. Yes, we must assign grades, but, no, we don't have to add judgment on top of that. Let's give students room to learn, struggle, fail, prioritize, and grow by being supportive, not judgmental. Let's model for students that personal growth and balance are important steps along the life path.

Wow - that got me worked up a little, didn't it? It's just that I feel so passionately about this. Most of these college students feel so many different pressures at the very same time they are trying to find themselves and their voices. If we, as teachers, can replace some judgment with compassion, then we are doing our students a great service.

Baccalaureate Address

2008-10-04T16:09:00.004-05:00

I was honored and blessed to be asked by last year's senior class officers to give the Baccalaureate Address (a speech given the day before graduation). It was personally and creatively fulfilling to talk with the students in a big forum about life issues (since I typically only get to do that on the topic of statistics). My address was called "Connect, Listen, and Be Kind," and, if interested, you can read it on my website: http://www.lawrence.edu/fast/jordanj/baccalaureate.html

Blog Revamp

2008-10-04T11:58:00.003-05:00

It's been three years since I started this blog, and about 2.5 years since I've written a post. What stopped me? Well, the busyness of life as a professor (not quite having the time after each class to "blog my notes"), and, to be honest, my lack of interest in the particular subject matter of my initial blog.

Yes, I'm still interested in teaching statistics (in fact, I can think of no better job--I love thinking creatively about teaching and working with students). But now I'm equally interested in working with students not just on statistics material, but on life material. How can they healthfully find their way through our culture of busyness?

So, I may post about teaching a particular statistics topic, or about a neat occurrence in class, or an interesting conversation with a student, or about teaching in general, or simply about life (I have lots of life musings). And we'll see if this blog revamp gets to me to post more often.

End of Term

2005-12-16T15:28:00.000-06:00

Hmmm... the term is now over, and this is only my third blog posting. It seems my experiment didn’t translate into the post-class notes I hoped for. Ah well, there’s always next term (or the term after that or sometime next year). Next term I teach Elementary Statistics (with a new version of the textbook) and Mathematical Statistics (with a new-to-me textbook). And so the journey continues.

Update from the First Week of Classes

2005-09-28T16:54:00.000-05:00

Ack! It’s been over a week since my first blog. In theory I love the idea of quickly blogging my thoughts after class is over, yet in practice it’s difficult—so many other pressing things to get done, especially in the first few weeks of classes.

In my Math 207 course (Introduction to Probability and Statistics) I decided to skip my lecture on one-variable graphics and numerical summaries. Many students have already seen this material and mathematically it’s very basic. Hence, I charged the students with reading the first two chapters of the textbook, and they spent the second day of class doing problems in groups (the problems tested both their basic knowledge and their ability to reason with that knowledge). This seemed to engage them more than my standard lecture. (Note I still stressed the importance of descriptive statistics and graphics, but I had the students tackle these issues in a different way.) Interestingly, what I thought would actually be a time-saver (only one class day on these basic issues) put us behind schedule as it actually required two days (one day for students to work on the problems and most of another day to talk about the issues and solutions). All in all, though, I was happy with this change of pace.

Lastly, I’m glad that both my classes are lively; the students ask and answer questions freely. I think it helped to put both classes into small groups on the first or second day of class.

Blog Explanation

2005-09-16T14:56:00.000-05:00

After teaching a class, I typically spend a few minutes thinking about what (e.g., explanations, activities, examples) worked well and what didn’t. I make mental notes throughout a term, yet I probably forget important pieces of information. I’m not sure why I haven’t written down my notes. I know this would be more efficient and would help me in the future, yet it feels like it would take too much time. (As sometimes happens in my life, things that actually take only a small amount time seem to loom over me, and I put them off.)

This blog is an experiment. I hope to write short notes about my teaching experiences, so I have a concrete set of comments for the next time I teach a course. This term I teach two courses: Probability Theory and Introduction to Probability and Statistics. Classes begin on Wednesday, and I’m busy preparing my syllabi, assignments, lectures, and computer labs. The start of a new school year is always an adventure.