Having Enough (In a Have-It-All World)

I had this big button that hung on my bulletin board for years, all through college, and for a good ten years after in my various home offices. I’m not sure what happened to it, but I still think of it:

To do is to be. - Socrates

To be is to do. - Plato

DoBeDoBeDo. - Sinatra

Clearly we live in a culture of doers. What we “do” is often the first question people ask one another on meeting. I definitely get into major “do” modes myself, and I think I’m in one now. On the computer late into the night, waking up at 5am with ideas and to-do’s chattering in my brain.

Of course, doing can be a good thing. I tend to get invigorated when the ideas are flowing and the work is happening. Studies show that the longer we “do” in life, the longer we live, in many cases.

On the other hand, we can take our doing too far. Forgetting to stop and enjoy, or to take care of ourselves. To sleep, for me. I think we often need a good dose of “be” to temper the “do” and feel balanced in our lives. Some quiet. Some attention. Some nothing.

Here in coastal California, the “just be” attitude is certainly more appreciated than in other parts of the country that I’ve lived in. My years in Washington, DC, were so filled with doers and doing that I kind of ran screaming back here for some sanity.

In our little family now, when we get too far into “do” mode, we nudge each other to take some “be” time. To stop running around on a Sunday evening and drive over to the beach, lay a blanket out on the sand and eat dinner slowly, and play a little. Then do again tomorrow.

So, as I write this at 5am, at my computer, my DD sleeping soundly in the next room, I think I’ll take my dose of “be” to temper my doing this month. And I’ll remember the other lesson of my kitzchy little button — not to think too hard all the time.

I’ll take a lesson from the sleeping child, and the crooning Sinatra, take a deep breath and laugh. Honor the ideas and work, but still try to turn the brain off for a few hours tonight. And be. And do again later. Be. Do. And DoBeDoBeDo.

Here’s to a DoBeDoBeDo week to you, too.

So, as part of my Having Enough philosophy of life, I’ve made the commitment to only do work that fits my values. Fortunately, I have some of this work and I love it. Unfortunately (in some ways), I also end up turning down often more lucrative work from corporate clients or the like, as they don’t fit with my vision. And, well, you know, times are lean.

Oddly enough, because a salesperson I am not, I’ve found myself taking on a bit of a sales venture. This venture really does fit my values, though, and I hope it will supplement my writing/editing work with something I enjoy and can stand behind.

I’ve become a Stallholder (seller) of Barefoot Books for children! I fell in love with these books and this company, whose values include the following:

• Honoring difference, diversity and dialogue
• Remembering our connection with each other and with the Earth
• Reaching for the stars and sharing what they say to us
• Climbing trees, building forts, and swapping stories

The books are beautifully written and illustrated, honor the diversity of world cultures, and promote a socially-conscious, Earth-conscious next generation. As a writer, artist, and progressive (and Ms. Having Enough), I appreciate all of these qualities.

The company itself, started by two British moms, publishes on eco-friendly paper, uses fair labor practices, choose titles in keeping with their values, and started its Stallholder program in large part to allow moms to have a potential to earn a few bucks (with only a modest up-front investment) while being present for their children (and sharing amazing stories with them).

Please click here to check out the Barefoot Books catalog (and big spring sale!). If you go there through Having Enough (on this link or the icon on my sidebar), I will get credit as the Stallholder (yes, salesperson) for your purchases.

In keeping with my anti-”stuff” and pro-library values, I also want to suggest to you to check out Barefoot Books at your local library. If you or your children love any enough to want to own one, come back here and buy one through me. I thought long and hard before deciding to sell these books, to sell anything, but of all the things I’m learning I do not need to own, inspiring, enlightening and beautiful books are still something I have realized I truly do value having and giving.

What I love most about Barefoot Books is that I want almost every one for my own daughter — and that I really feel I don’t have to sell them. Their art and stories from around the world — and about the world — speak for themselves.

Thank you so much for your support!

I’ve had this quote on my fridge for years now, and a friend who visited recently emailed me after she got home and asked me for the quote.  It really is a profound concept, which speaks so aptly to Having Enough:

“Attention is the most basic form of love; through it we bless and are blessed.” - John Tarrant.

The quote helps me stop if I’m feeling rushed to do too many things.  Stop and pay attention.  If I’m frustrated with the demands of a toddler.  Stop and pay attention.  Time goes all too fast.  If my husband and I are butting heads; stop and pay attention.  He just wants attention, too.

It goes with another tenet I love, from Jack Kornfield, I think:  At the bottom of it all, everyone just wants to be appreciated and understood.

To do this, we must pay attention.  I must pay attention.

I don’t think I’ll ever remove that quote from my fridge.

At my UU Fellowship this morning, a longtime couple, two women who are active and beloved in the community, stood up and announced they are getting married on June 21st.  People stood and cheered and cried (me included). And we serenaded them with a song called “Standing on the Side of Love.”

So many of us take for granted the option of getting married, mull over our thoughts of this institution and whether we want to “be a part of it.”  But how would we feel if we were told we could not be a part of it?  Not be allowed the same rights as our neighbors, family members and friends?  Would it take on different meaning then?  I bet so.

In my view, it is not enough, and we are not a truly successful democracy, until all citizens truly have equal rights.  On June 21, these women will exercise theirs in our fine state of California.  Hallelujah.

I’m grumpy tonight. Just plain grumpy. Huffy and impatient and gloomy. No specific reason, really. Jumbled thoughts of all kinds of things big and small. Apologies to the poor folks who live with me for my short temper this evening. It will pass, and I’ll be chipper again.

Being grumpy is natural. I’m learning on the grumpy days (which may also be hormonal days, hmmm) to just be. Grumpy. Not overanalyze it. Not look for reasons. Not think it means something is “wrong” or I need “more” or there isn’t enough happy to go around.

Just let the mood be a mood, like a hot day versus a chilly one. Not fan the flames but let them just burn a bit, dance their fire dance for a while. Know the morning dew will ease the heat away if it just stays smoldering in that low place.

Ignore the grumpy and it will sooner go away than if I engage with it. Better yet, practice lovingkindness on the grumpy. Hug it and honor it in all its curmudgeonliness.

Now, if I could only stop harumphing at my poor husband. Then, I’d really be evolving.

Well, we pushed a bit too hard over the past month — me with two new projects and DH with some intense work stuff of his own — and, as often happens when we overdo, we all ended up worn-out and with colds.  My stomach is all out of whack, too.

Our bodies do tell us when to slow down, don’t they?  The trick is listening to them.

This time we tried to listen, and stop. So, today, in the middle of the week, instead of a “sick day,” we decided to take a family “health day.”  Concentrate on rest and replenishment.  Only the healthiest food.  Rest.  A trip to the beach to soak in some sea air and sunlight.  It’s helping.  I’ve used many less tissues and my tummy is settling down.

To some, this may seem indulgent.  As for me, I wish we could do it again tomorrow!

I kept thinking today of a segment in the documentary, Sicko, in which a man in France gets cancer, goes through chemo, and, once he is declared cancer-free, instead of going right back to work, he takes three months to recuperate, sail, enjoy his friends.  This was supported and paid for by the French government.

Of course, I can hear the reactions to this now by the ole Puritan-work-ethic Americans who think this guy “took advantage of the system” or was “lazy” for taking three months off of work when he was supposedly “healed.”  But, I think it makes perfect sense.  Healing isn’t just an absence of disease.  It’s not just going back to zero from a deficit.

Healing is storing up rest, energy, healthful foods, companionship, spiritual nourishment, to get our bodies, minds and souls stronger than zero.  To store up extra to prevent other diseases from finding us and for fighting them if they do.

I wish “health days” were more accepted and supported in our culture.  I wish we could all really take the time to heal.  How different do you think the world would be if we actually did?

As long as I’m being a bit controversial tonight, I just want to say a big “hooray” to the California Supreme Court for legalizing gay marriage today — and send a big plea to Californians to NOT sign the petitions (hugely funded by the far-right) to get a prop on the ballot to strike it down.

Enough inequality.  Enough discrimination.  Enough energy wasted trying to stop others from having rights.  I don’t understand why opponents care so much, how it harms them in any way.  I really don’t.

Oh, I may get flamed for bringing up this hot topic, but I don’t care.  I’m sure proud of my state tonight for having enough.

For many of us “educated folks,” much value is put on whether we are “using our brains” in our day-to-day lives. There’s an idea (what I believe to be a fallacy) that stay-home-parenting doesn’t use one’s brain.

Try answering the question, “Mommy, why do birds eat worms?”

Try coming up with a creative way to coax a wiley two-year-old to get into the bathtub.

Try to notice your own behavior as you react to inane situations like beets smeared all over the table, and then behave as a person you’d want to emulate.

Yes, of course, parenting little ones can have those days of finger-painting for more hours than your patience might enjoy easily, and conversations with too many one-syllable words (like “no!”). But, I think the question of whether we “use our brains” as stay-at-home parents is, as usual, one of perspective.

We can see all of this mommy/daddy work as vapid and useless to the higher-learned society. Or we can see this work as challenging, rewarding, and incredibly meaningful as we shape the next generation’s leaders (we can only hope). We can see how we must stretch our minds and our spirits to parent consciously, to challenge ourselves and our kids.

I realize that the “using our brains” panic is much more loaded than this, and is entwined with all kinds of social structures that make it very hard for parents to have well-paid, professional, part-time positions that would allow for some official “brain work” during the intense years of parenting, as so many people want (documented brilliantly by Miriam Peskowitz in The Truth Behind the Mommy Wars — yes, this is one of my favorite books!). I realize that this is often a veiled complaint about our lack of options and support for real career/family balance, even for those of us in the privileged sectors of society.

But, we can still fight for more options, and see these societal problems, and still, at the same time, appreciate the work we do as full-time parents as just as brainy as our outside jobs — just a different kind of brainy.

By the way, my answer was, “Because they’re warm and squirmy and fun for birds, and they fit in their little throats.” (I’m still trying to think of a better one.)

Happy Mother’s Day, a little late (I was busy enjoying yesterday).

One of the experiences that led me to create Having Enough was deciding four-plus years ago to leave my doctoral program after four years of graduate study. It was an agonizing decision at the time, but now clearly so the right one for me. After I left, I became a career counselor for graduate students at my research university for two years and saw the same angst I had felt, amplified, in many of the PhD students who came to my office every day.

I saw a cult of overachievers living under a single definition of success (read: tenured professor) that was wreaking havoc on the mental health of so many people who chose to pursue this path of higher learning. I saw the stats that showed high divorce rates among graduate students, and a Berkeley study that revealed a shocking number of graduate students who had considered suicide. And I saw a structure and culture of academic life that did not broadly support alternative definitions of success.

Once I released myself from the singular definition of success, everything lightened. I appreciate my graduate education, and use it all the time, but I’m glad I removed myself from that path and that culture (on an everyday level, at least). And I’m glad I became a counselor for a time there, to see that I actually did have something to contribute, and a way to make a difference for some folks.

So, now I’m a freelance writer/editor (my pre-grad school career made new) and a mom. I’ve kind of “been there, done that” with the PhD thing. And, yet, it keeps coming back to me in new ways, reminding me that although I may have moved past that particular stage and have opened up my own definition of success, there are still many grad students struggling and looking for a voice to tell them they can see things through other lenses.

There still may be a need for people “on the outside” to offer alternative ideas to challenge the academic status quo, and perhaps open things up for future generations of academics (my parents are academics, and I do still love and value higher education, and always will). And I still clearly have things to learn and do in this particular arena; it’s still offering me amazing opportunities.

For example, I’m thrilled to now be a part of a team of writers who make up the forthcoming Mama, PhD anthology, and the Mama, PhD blog on Inside Higher Ed. I’ll be offering career advice on transitioning from academia (or choosing whether to) every Monday on the blog (my first column is here).

I’m grateful to Caroline Grant and Elrena Evans, co-editors of Mama, PhD, for giving me the opportunity to be a part of it — and to the amazing Miriam Peskowitz for introducing me to these fine women and editors.

What I keep thinking this week, as this new project launches and all the other bits and pieces of life occur, is that when we follow our passions and our gut, we really do end up doing the right jobs, landing in the right places, and meeting the right people who are going to push us where we need to go to grow. Following these parts of ourselves is not always easy — in some subcultures especially — and we certainly must experience what’s not right to appreciate what is.

But, boy, is it easier now to listen to those inner voices instead of the outer ones. Who knew?

When I dropped my entire spice rack on the ceramic-tile kitchen floor this morning, shattering glass and spewing cinnamon and basil everywhere, my two-year-old, after a look of startled concern, said, “Ah, there it goes, Mommy?”

“Yes, Honey,” I responded, after recovering for a moment myself. “Ah, there it goes.”

We like to use this phrase in our house when things break or end.  Everything goes at some point.  Accepting it sure makes life easier.

It’s funny, though, that my first response was much more “oh no!” until I realized my daughter was looking to me to know how to react herself.  We went through the knee-jerk negative reaction at first (because I did) and then got to “ah, there it goes” fairly quickly, but I think she was definitely there before me — repeating what we’ve told her and young enough to be open to actually reacting in different ways to spilled spices.  Next step for me is un-learning the knee-jerk,  skipping the “oh no,” I guess.

Tired tonight.  Crazy day.  And, ah, there it goes.