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

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!

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?

My sincere apologies to any regular readers for my delinquency in posting this month. You see, my 22-month-old has turned into a teenager overnight. (And I’ve had a big deadline, but that’s less interesting for the purposes of this blog.)

My sweet, cuddly baby is here in just glimpses these last couple of weeks. The rest of the time, it’s like she’s going through puberty. You know, the natural development. The mood swings. The desperate need for intense attention and wild independence, changing from moment to moment. The rebellion (at this age, to naps). And, the trouble with sharing.

Sharing.

It’s a tough concept, for two-year-olds and, frankly, for adults.

The idea is lovely. We are generous with our things, our time, our feelings, and our attention. We let other people have a turn. And we hope they let us have a turn, too.

The actual practice, though, is complicated.

How much sharing is OK before we start to feel we’ve given too much? What if the other person doesn’t share back? Are there times when it’s OK not to share?

I’m a fan of the idea that the more we give, in the larger sense, the more we receive. I truly do believe our generosity pays, sometimes in ways we can’t immediately see, and the more confident we are in ourselves the more we are able to share with others. However, I also understand that we need to make some kind of boundaries so as not to get walked all over.

So, how do you illustrate all of this to a toddler? By example, of course — right? But how does sharing really play out in our grownup lives? In friendships lately, I’ve had to set boundaries with some while opening up more in others. In professional encounters, I’ve had to attempt to understand others’ quite different concepts of sharing and not sharing this year. In marriage, we’re constantly renegotiating the sharing of chores and time.

It never gets less complicated, really. Sharing is a wide and murky river, never static or crystal clear. It starts tossing us around before we’re even two. I see it in its most dramatic form in my tantrum-prone toddler lately. It’s hard.

Still, I suppose it is basically just taught and understood by example. By showing that we continue each day to navigate that murky river to the best of our abilities. Being kind and generous, and true to ourselves. Believing that, for the most part, giving to others does not take away from ourselves. And, yet, seeing that speaking up for ourselves (with respect for others) is important.

We learn so much by watching the behavior of others (some to emulate, some to not emulate). As parents, we can just try to be an example worthy of following. As people, I guess it’s the same.

And, sometimes, if we feel the need to act out and say “mine!”, well, it’s only natural. Maybe it needs to be said sometimes. Or maybe we’ll learn to share more when we get a little bigger.

As a writer, I feel successful when I work on project I think contributes something meaningful to the world — and get paid for it!  Thus, I was more than thrilled this summer to be asked to do some independent story editing for numerous chapters of the Harper Collins book, The Daring Book for Girls by Andrea Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz.

The project was intense and oh-so-fun, and now the book is out — with 600,000 pre-sold!  (No, I don’t get royalties!)

It’s got it’s own must-see video, if you can believe that.  And Miriam and Andi were on The Today Show yesterday talking about it.

I’m having a blast watching the book take off, and the authors talk about girls in such positive ways in the media. Knowing I played a little part in a big project — and a book I really think gives girls, and portrays girls with, the respect they deserve and information they can use — feels really good. Even if I didn’t work on it, I would love this book.

Now, not to be greedy, but if the universe could please send more of these kinds of projects my way, that would be lovely.

I was lucky to “cyber-meet” writer mama Amy Mercer when we participated together in an online writing class taught by the “official” Writer Mama, Christina Katz. (That class, and Christina, were the impetus for me launching this blog, by the way!). The Writers on the Rise class was on platform-building for writers, and many of us were struggling to define our platform (mission statement, focus), questioning, kvetching, trying on this and that.

Amy was one of the only class participants who had her platform down from day one, and just needed a nudge in launching it. Amy’s platform is about being a woman with diabetes, and helping other women with diabetes, especially younger ones who are living through what she already has.

I instantly became sucked into Amy’s platform — her blog, articles, and books-to-be — because I know well that health is the absolute, fundamental foundation of “having enough.” Without our health, everything looks different, every challenge is harder. And Amy has faced this reality every day for most of her life, with dire consequences if she doesn’t. She did this as a teenager. And now as a 36-year-old woman with kids. And a writing career. She has a lot to share with us.

Here are Amy’s answer’s to my “four questions”:

1) What does “having enough” mean to you?

Having enough. Hmmmmm….I don’t know if I’ve ever believed I had enough. I am definitely a grass is always greener kind of girl and I struggle with that straight jacket on an almost daily basis.

As a woman who quit her well paying job when my first child was born, and haven’t gone back yet, my husband and I have been living on a fixed income for what feels like forever. I want to be the kind of person for who living within my means is a lifestyle choice, the kind of person who recycles her children’s clothing, who lives in a small house, drives an old car and cooks dinner every night because it’s better for the environment not because I can’t afford to go shopping, buy a bigger house or go out to dinner more often.

I even want to be the kind of person who writes just because I love to write, the kind of person who doesn’t care about being published, but that’s just not me. I think the only thing I’m sure I have enough of, is my two boys!

2) What do you think about the concept of “having it all” in our culture?

On that note, I do cringe at the idea of having it all. I believe we are a wasteful culture and I alternate between being green with envy and feeling nauseous when I see the giant homes, giant SUV’s, giant bodies eating giant portions (not envious here) around me.

I grew up in New England and come from a family that believes, “Everything in moderation” is the way to go. I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was 14 years old so having it all, as far as food was concerned, was never an option for me. So it’s probably my Protestant/Diabetic upbringing that is very anti-having it all.

3) How do you define success?

To me, the definition of success is a mixed bag. I know I feel best on the days when I have woken up well rested with a good blood sugar reading, had a great morning run, got my kids off to school without too much trouble and can come home to write.

I feel successful when I am on a roll writing, when something I write gets published, when someone likes the story idea I want to tell. I felt successful the other day when I apologized to my son for being grouchy and he said, “that’s okay mom, you’re a famous writer!” (my name was in the paper that day for a book signing!) I’ll feel successful when a book publisher agrees to publish my anthology, Dreaming About Water, a collection of personal essays and practical advice by and for women living with diabetes.

4) Can you describe a defining moment in your life when you had to choose between “having enough” or pushing for more? (And how did it turn out for you?)

The moment that stands out for me is when I quit my job. I knew I couldn’t go back to work and leave my new baby with a nanny or a day care provider. I didn’t care what kind of sacrifices we had to make, I was ready to sell our house and move into something more affordable so I could stay home with Will. There was just no way I was going to do anything but.

I am an introvert by nature, I am not someone who is comfortable asking for what I want but this time I knew I had to. I stood up for myself and refused to back down from that decision and I have never regretted it.

********************************************
Readers, how does health factor into your vision of “having enough”? Do you take your health for granted? How do you deal with health challenges?

I’m honored to have the second of my series of Four-Question Interviews be with author Deborah Siegel. Deborah is a Ph.D., writer and consultant specializing in women’s issues. She is the author of the new book, Sisterhood, Interrupted: From Radical Women to Grrls Gone Wild and has written about women, sex, feminism, contemporary families, and popular culture for a variety of publications, including The Guardian, The Huffington Post, The American Prospect, Psychology Today, The Progressive, The Mothers Movement Online, and on her blog, Girl with Pen.

I was introduced to Deborah through Miriam Peskowitz, also an author I admire who is now becoming a colleague and friend. Another academic feminist now writing “on the outside,” Miriam is author of The Truth Behind the Mommy Wars and the forthcoming Daring Book for Girls, with Andrea Buchanan, with whom she also founded Mother Talk. (BTW, I got a sneak peek at the Daring Book when Miriam asked me to do a little story editing of her early chapter drafts — I can tell you it’s a must-read, soon-to-be-classic!)

Knowing this group of women is exciting, because they have much to say that matters, about many topics, including Having Enough. Deborah’s answers to my four questions blew me away — her candor, knowledge and insight made me stop and just breathe for a bit. I bet they do the same for you…

1. What does “having enough” mean to you?

Nothing says “retool” like a bout of bad depression. Depression was horrid (wouldn’t wish it on my enemies), but depression was also my teacher. Like marriage or childbirth does for some people, depression divided my life into a “before” and an “after.” Before, my goals were all about an end. After, everything became about the journey. Before, I could not have defined “having enough”; there was always something more to achieve. After, the most important goal in my life became to love well and be well loved.

Having enough, to me, means awakening to that boundless sense of compassion we are all capable of feeling—for ourselves, for others—and realizing that we are already, with all our human imperfections, enough.

2. What do you think about the concept of “having it all” in our culture?

It’s interesting to me how the lexicon around “having it all” keeps changing. In the 1980s, having it all meant shoulder pads, diapers, and the corner office. Then came “juggling,” the flipside of which, of course, was “dropping the ball.” There was also “balance,” which similarly implied its opposite: falling down.

Now we have “sequencing” (you can have it all, just not all at once!) and its still more recent correlative, “on ramping and off ramping” (a terminology which shifts the burden for making work and family work together to workplaces instead of individuals). Instead of talking about “work/life balance,” some now talk about “work + life fit” —a vast improvement, in my opinion. What I find most heartening, though, is the way we are finally beginning to widen the conversation about “having it all” to include men.

To me, having it all never seemed possible unless there was a partner—male, female, or hired—in the picture, doing their share to keep things going at home. I remember coming across a book once called Halving It All, which focuses on the ins and outs of shared parenting. I think that’s a very clever—and much-welcome—riff.

3. How do you define success?

Borrowing from a writer I admire, I would say that “success” means living in chapters and giving yourself fully to the chapter you are on. It means embracing the present, learning to cohabit with discomfort, and paying attention to your heart.

4. Can you describe a defining moment in your life when you had to choose between “having enough” or pushing for more? (And how did it turn out for you?)

I took an extended break during graduate school, when I was ABD (all-requirements-for-PhD-completed-but-for-the-dissertation, or, in layterms, all-but-done). I had hit a point where I just couldn’t push myself any further and needed a change of path.

I took a 6-month leave of absence as a precursor to a possibly more permanent leave, left the Midwest, moved to Manhattan, and gave myself full permission to be satisfied without completing the degree. That license liberated me. After six years of pushing myself toward a single goal that had lost its meaning once I knew that I didn’t want to go on the academic job market, I allowed myself free reign to reinvent.

The irony was this: Once I allowed myself to say “no, enough,” I was finally able to
choose “yes.” I finished my dissertation, graduated with my PhD, and went on to become a writer–my longtime dream.

How do you relate to Deborah’s answers? Have you had a “having enough” turning point?

Part of my vision for this blog is a series of “four-question interviews.” I’ve written four questions around the theme of Having Enough, and I’d like to get a variety of people to answer them, from authors and thinkers I admire to people I know in my personal sphere who have made life choices that seem in keeping with my mission here.

I’m proud to have my first interviewee come from within my family. My brother Jeff is 35 and a committed husband and dad to two sons, ages 4 and 9. He and his wife Gretchen are pros at thinking outside the box and making lemonade out of lemons. When they lost a child, born prematurely, between their two boys, they started a non-profit to help others with preemies. When their third-grader was struggling in school despite the fact that he was devouring 300-page books at home, they decided to home school, and now he’s thriving.

And, last year, when they moved into their dream house (a brand new five-bedroom home on the Chesapeake Bay) and realized it was more than they needed, not to mention more expensive and resource-sucking than they wanted, they sold it and downsized, big-time. Now the family of four lives in a 1,000-square-foot renovated farm house on a heaping acre-plus in suburban Maryland. They’re growing their own food, raising chickens and angora bunnies, and working toward a different dream — running a self-sustaining home farm business.

Jeff still works as marketing director at a company outside Washington, DC (another interesting “having enough” choice, as he describes below) and now spends his free time farming and learning about alternative energy options (including the corn stove they just bought, using their home-grown corn to heat the house and feed the chickens!). He also designed the Having Enough logo and my freelance business web site, by the way (how lucky am I?).

Here are my brother’s to-the-point answers to my Four Questions:

1) What does “having enough” mean to you?

Having enough time and financial flexibility to spend as much time as possible at home with my family.

2) What do you think about the concept of “having it all” in our culture?

I think that American consumerism (and the rest of the world following suit) is a major culprit in the problems that our society is currently facing and will continue to face in the future unless attitudes and actions change.

3) How do you define success?

Same as having enough – having enough time and financial flexibility to spend as much time as possible at home with my family.

4) Can you describe a defining moment in your life when you had to choose between “having enough” or pushing for more? (And how did it turn out for you?)

I recently received a promotion at work and after three months I went back to my previous position at my previous compensation – what good is status and money if you don’t get to watch your kids grow up? As far as how it turned out for me, it was the best thing that could have ever happened – I love my life and now I know for sure that climbing the corporate ladder is not for me.

Stay tuned for upcoming four-question interviews — next up, a feminist author fresh back from her latest book tour!

A local water company likes to post words of wisdom on their freeway-side marquis billboard. This weekend, the marquis read:

“SUCCESS HAS MADE A FAILURE OF MANY.”

The quote got me thinking. It reminds me of Harvard’s Success/Failure Project, for which they ask well-known alumni and faculty to tell stories of their most “sorry success” (or their “favorite failure”), the idea being to show nail-biting overachiever students that perfectionism is not necessarily in the best interest of their growth or mental health.

I’d say my most sorry success was landing a job at a consulting firm right out of college. Following the lead of my overachiever classmates out of our East Coast university, this kind of gig was the thing to do, the measure of success. After just a few weeks, I knew the corporate consulting world was not for me. (Actually, I’d always known it, but those times when we lose sight of ourselves are often our most sorry.) The fact that my early 90’s suede, fringed boots didn’t fly among the D.C. navy suits tipped me off right away.

I lasted a few months before growing anxiety, weight gain, and staying in bed all day with my journal during a snowstorm finally woke me up. I jumped ship for a fellowship at a non-profit PR firm, then it took me a couple more career and life steps to get back on track to the writing and creative work that feels most authentic to me, back to health and sanity, and back to my heart’s home of California.

I missed out on certain freedoms and explorations post-college, jumping into this big-city, pressure-cooker world of work so fast. However, I’m still glad I did it because it reminds me to be true to who I am, not who others want me to be, and also that I can always get back on track if I stray. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, it reminds me that I had and have choices, and I am where I am because I choose to be. (I also fully realize how fortunate I am to have such choices, and, as I discuss in my welcome post, how loaded the concept of choice can be!)

For me, though, this particular sorry success was a defining moment in my career path. I had begun to figure out something crucial: what I am willing to sacrifice and what I need to feel myself. Corporate suits and corporate salary ultimately did not work for me (and I know this for sure, because I tried corporate one other time on this winding career path — better the next time, but still not it). What works for me now is more creative freedom as a freelancer (and creative necessity, without a corporate salary!), more time with family (and the right family for me), and a simpler lifestyle. Ahhhhh. I’m much happier here.

Of course, it took many, many more missteps, backsteps and forward steps — more sorry successes and favorite failures, including several up-and-down years in academia — to get here, which I’m sure I’ll discuss in future posts. But, each step has led me to this freelance writing/training/brain-never-off business, this marriage to a still-surprises-me surfer/teacher I’ve known since adolescence, this motherhood to an enlightening-every-day girl, this web of complicated and gratifying relationships with family and friends, and this little life in this little townhouse three miles from the Pacific in a sleepy beach town.

In short, a sorry success, turned to failure, can be a critical life lesson — and a great step toward liberation.

So, Readers: What’s your sorriest success story?

I recently read a book called Women Confidential: Midlife Women Explode the Myths of Having it All by psychologist/”career guru” Barbara Moses, Ph.D. Moses’ book is based on her twenty years of counseling, an ongoing survey of thousands of women, and in-depth interviews with a selective group of “interesting” midlife women. She says of this group, I love this:

“In spite of the temptation to describe these women as successful, I call them interesting because they have defined success on their own terms. Like many women, I struggle with the word successful…”

She goes on to describe how some are traditionally successful businesswomen, while others left career paths for lives of leisurely country living or volunteer work. All are university-educated, two-thirds have children, and they “respresent all the tangled possibilities” in partner relationships. Then she says:

“Regardless of their path, the women understand the choices they have made and can reflect on what was and wasn’t wise. They accept who they are instead of endlessly second-guessing decisions they have made (and if they had any bitterness, they have moved on). They are excited about their futures. As the French say, they are bien dans sa peau, they feel good in their skin.”

So, what do you think? Does this sound like a fair description of success to you? Not the traditional description of success and “having it all,” at least, a more realistic image of what we can aspire to at midlife.

Anyway, the book is an interesting collection of insights from these women, covering topics from corporate life, approval-seeking, friendships, kids (having them or not), marriage, midlife decisions, and more. Here’s an abbreviated version of her “Summary Dish: Fourteen Secrets of Success for Work and Life from Women for Women”:

1. Know and act on what is really important to you.
2. Undrestand what you are really good at.
3. Be authentic.
4. Define yourself independently of your roles–as mother, daughter, worker, leader, friend, partner.
5. Make your own decision. (Drop people-pleasing.)
6. Pay attention to the niggling voice that says, “I’m not happy.”
7. Think in terms of life chapters. (You can have it all, but not all at once.)
8. Cherish and grow your friendships.
9. Give back to individuals and the community.
10. Invest in yourself, and stretch yourself.
11. Accept others for who they are.
12. Edit out the stuff that doesn’t add value to your life.
13. Have a healthy relationship to money.
14. Be kind to yourself and others. (This is perhaps the most important secret of all.)

So, readers, what do you think? If you’re a midlife women, does this ring true? If you’re a younger woman, do these wisdoms make sense? They do to me, and this book supports for me what “Having Enough” is all about — being real, being authentic, being kind, generous, making mistakes, letting things go, struggling and learning, becoming ourselves.