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

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.

My awesome writer-mom-of-four friend Melissa at Making Things Up tagged me for a meme to write a “six-word memoir.” Now, being the Having Enough gal, you’d think it would be easy to come up with a few pithy words to encapsulate my life.

But, alas, I’m late on this meme like my Odyssey book report in 10th grade because I just can’t seem to get my brain there. Rather than drag out the procrastination, though, I’ll just throw one out, and not worry about the grade:

Overachiever turns happy by letting go.

I got one of my ultimate joys yesterday — sitting in a restaurant with three old friends, us four grown women laughing so loudly that others in the restaurant looked at us. It puzzles me when people are annoyed by laughter. I simply love the sound. (Except when it is at someone else’s expense.) But, generally, a group of friends laughing, to me, is just beautiful, one of life’s great gifts.

And, this particular group laughing was especially poignant. One friend lost her husband less than two years ago. Another was recently diagnosed with MS. And, I was just awed, talking with these women, looking at these women, so strong and so connected and so alive despite their hard times. I felt privileged to be laughing with them, and to be learning from the way they are handling their situations. Laughter not as denial, but as a way to experience the spectrum of life’s emotions, not just give into one. As a way to face challenges with grace and perspective. As a way to get through scary stuff with people we trust.

As I drove the 50 minutes home from this brunch yesterday, I thought about how I could’ve talked with these women for many more hours, how we barely scratched the surface in our two-hour, yearly catch-up session. And I felt lucky for that, too. How fortunate to feel that way, that the time spent together felt short.

I’ve written here before about how none of my closest friends live close enough to come over for tea. How some of my standby friendships have been shifting, even disappearing, as our lives change. And, yet, how my female friendships feed my soul in a way I feel I’d starve without. So, in the spirit of Having Enough, rather than focusing on my hunger for old friends in my neighborhood, or the loss of friendships I cherished, I decided yesterday to just enjoy the two hours with some amazing old friends 50 miles up the road, enjoy the connection and the laughter, and quit lamenting that I don’t experience it more often these days.

Funny enough, too, in working on my Having Enough attitude lately, and just letting go of focusing on any lacking, I am finding myself slowly connecting with more women in my community. I’ve had some great moments lately with women I’m just getting to know. It takes time to know others well enough to be the loud, laughing group of grown women in the restaurant. It takes shared experiences. Openness. And great good fortune.

A toast, to the laughter of friends.

My daughter is obsessed with dandelions.  She wants to pick dandelions daily.  She collects them like priceless treasures.  She wants me to make up stories about dandelions (which now also usually involve fairies that live among them).

She calls every flower a dandelion and every picture of a flower a dandelion.  Not because she doesn’t have the verbal capacity to name other flowers (in fact, she can say “rhododendron” quite well), but because she loves the bright yellow flowers you can find anywhere and everywhere, and because they turn into wish-makers when they get old.

I know, they’re weeds.  That’s what makes it even cooler.  Her pure joy over a simple weed.  It’s so Buddhist, so Thich Nhat Hanh.  To see the wonder in a weed.  Talk about having enough.

So, to celebrate the joy and beauty of simple flowers, and weeds that pop up to remind us of the real colors of life, here’s a little surprise for you.  Just roll your mouse and click, and think of the thrill of a two-year-old over a dandelion.

Peace.

Have you heard about the Last Lecture?  It’s a thing universities do, where they invite popular professors to give a lecture as if it will be their last, giving sage advice from their experience, even if they are nowhere near the end of their career.

One physics professor was chosen to give the Last Lecture last year at Carnegie Mellon University, and found out sometime between his selection and the lecture day that he was dying of pancreatic cancer, at 49, with a wife and young children.  He was told by doctors he had a few months of good health left.

This lecture, on his life lessons and achieving his dreams, has taken on a life of its own on the internet and beyond, and apparently ABC News is doing a special on the professor Wednesday night. (The text of the lecture is there, too.)

The bulk of his message?  Follow your dreams.  Think of others. Ask for what you want.  Take feedback.  Don’t give up.  He considers his life a success, in large part because he followed his own unique path.  Not everyone will share his particular dreams, but his lessons on how he achieved them are clearly resonating.

And, he is yet another person who reminds us that life is fleeting and we must embrace each day fully.  Decide to be a Tigger not an Eyeore, he says.  Keep a sense of humor.  Learn.  Love one another.

What would you say in your Last Lecture?  Something to think about.

Thanks to my friend, Naomi, who sent me this powerful video that’s truly the essence of Having Enough. Please take a minute to watch; it’s short and well worth it.

If you are reading this, chances are you have not only enough but so much more than enough. If you want to help out the majority of the world’s citizens who don’t have enough (as in, live on less than two dollars a day), check out the End Poverty 2015 Campaign, part of the UN Millennium Goals.

It’s so hard to know where to start. Just wherever we are, I guess.