You Can't Always Get What You Want, But You Can Always Get Back in the Game

I haven't been writing because of one very important, all-consuming project. We celebrated a few CEOs who have transformed their companies. Now that project is over, and I can sit back and strategize my next move.

Funny-- I thought I knew what my next move was.
Until a few weeks ago, it was absolute. Today...it is no longer an option.


When I realized that, I was so disappointed that I was angry. Embarrassingly, it took me two weeks to get through the "if I can't do this, I don't want to do anything" slump.

The only way I got through the slump, was by reframing this let down as an opportunity. That might seem like a comfort mechanism, but that's not what it is--and that's not why I did it.

I did it, I intentionally reframed the situation, because I know that it is a good way out of slumps. I know that people who do that are more successful and happier than people who don't. I know that people who intentionally reframe challenges tend to be more grateful and more resilient. And I want to be both of those in increasing measure as I age.

So I reframed. I said, "The best thing about not getting what I wanted was..."

Was that it forced me to want something else. It forced me to ask myself what my non-negotiables are, and to let go of brand names, titles, locations and salaries in order to find a good fit for my passions and talents.

The best thing about not getting what I wanted, is that I found out what I care about, what I'm willing to fight for, and even what I'm worth. Sometimes when you slip easily from one stage of life into the next, you don't have to ask those hard questions. Slipping into something is a whole different exercise than climbing into something, but I won't bother tracing that metaphor out right here.

So it was a good thing, not getting what I wanted.

Carrying Mattresses and Improving Processes

The people who ought to know the most about process baffle me with their disinterest in having one.

Process be not intuition. Or the other way around. Or both.

Intuition is unsafe, imho. Like institutional memory, it's hard to improve intuition. It's a gut feeling that comes from the same place that brings you bias, prejudice and a yearning for Snuggies.

Processes can be refined.
Intuition fails, and does so with an unshakable sense of righteousness.

I'm all for good, improvable processes. I work in the right place for it, too. At a center for quality, efficiency and competitiveness.

Meanwhile, in the second week back on campus at Columbia, we had a protest outside Low Library today. People carrying mattresses to support the student who was raped, and who has decided to make visible what would have otherwise been an invisible burden.

She is making it artistic. Making something felt into something seen. Would that we all had the craft for that. Or the will. Or both.

I talked with my favorite coworker, who used to be in publishing, about why I love NYC. I said, and I quote myself here, "I want to live and to be and explore. To feel what there is to feel in life. Just like every other twelve year old girl."

No, but really. I've found myself here, even if I wasn't lost before I got here. My colors have become deeper, my feelings stronger (or at least more obvious and interesting to me).

No, it's more than even that. I'm taking sides here. For some things and against others. I'm choosing things and rejecting things (people, too). I'm more well-defined than I've ever been and I fell less changeable.

Those may be the words that I look back on in twenty years with grief and self-pity. But somehow, I doubt it. I doubt that I'll look back on this time with anything but admiration and gratitude.

Weekends on the UWS

I stuffed coconut shrimp and dolmas and guacamole-coated chips into my mouth.

It's been one of those celebratory weekends, I guess. 

Hamas, Israel, 3D printing, Amazon, Happy Hour, Self-discipline, CS Lewis, Jean Paul Sartre.

Unrelievable

Stymied.

I slept badly and woke up feeling weird.
Feeling two steps behind.

Where am I, I kept asking myself.

I listened to an encouraging podcast (it failed to encourage me).

I did morning prayer time, but was repeatedly interrupted.

I bought Dunkin Donuts coffee with cream and sugar--a sure fire way to improve my mood.
But the coffee was sour in my mouth.

Where am I?

I went to the Eucharist service at St. John's.
There was a woman with a little toddler boy, playing on the altar while we prayed in the small chapel. He had a little Buddhist hair cut. I was confused. Why are you playing with him at the altar?

Is there no relief from this weirdness, I asked myself.

No; not at the moment. No relief.

Which is why every attempt to sneak into relief is only making me more miserable. 

It's a terrible feeling to eat and feel unsatisfied afterwards. Likewise, it's a terrible feeling to seek relief but not find it where you expected it.