June 19th, 2011 -- Posted in family, military, parents |
(Two-star promotion, Yokota Air Base Japan, 2007)
Upon finding out I was raised military and had a dad who traveled a lot for his job, I recently had someone ask if it felt like I had an absentee father, to which I responded: not at all. Running the numbers in my head I’ve figured that my dad was probably gone around 30-40% of the time growing up. Sure, I remember it being “just us girls” a lot - like in the great hurricane of ‘95(ish), or the during the epic blizzard of ‘97(ish) - and I remember days or weeks going by not being sure if Dad was out of town or not; he worked long hours anyway, so it was sometimes hard to tell! Yes, there were some pretty significant differences - like the moving every two years, or the deployment of ‘01 - but overall I felt like my dad just had a job.
It was a job, a career, a lifestyle that he loved, but not a job that took him away from us, or a job that he in any way prioritized over his family. My dad’s passion for his work, and his prioritizing of family is one of the biggest “life lessons by osmosis” that he taught me. Through his example I saw that it was important - and also possible - to dedicate your life to something you love, both professionally and relationally.
I have no idea how he did it. But my childhood memories aren’t of dinners grabbed on the fly and eaten alone, or missed milestones or a lack of involvement. They’re memories of family meals, reading before bedtime, endless hours helping me with math homework, my parents cheering me at sporting events, dad coming home early to take pictures of me before prom. If anything, when it came to family activities, my parents could be accused of beating a dead horse - which is why I still hate bike rides and I’d rather gouge out my eyes than go camping. (But hey, they tried.:) )
I’m not at a phase in life where I’ve had to make tough prioritization choices yet, but when I am, I hope to find I’ve picked up some of that by osmosis, too.
June 16th, 2011 -- Posted in career, consulting, entrepreneurship, finances, religion, san francisco, seminary |
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that low’r'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Somewhere between not knowing where I’m going to live in a couple months, and losing my job, it hit me: I’m not freaking out. This is incredibly, fundamentally, anti-Alexis. Which can only mean that somehow in the past year or two since my last existential crisis I’ve hit some stride of contentedness. I’m sure it’s a combination of a lot of things: a deepened spirituality, a supportive community, increased financial stability, and probably a dose of good ol’ fashioned maturity. The Alexis of five or even three years ago would be in meltdown mode by now - so of course I’m bracing for that and worried it’ll happen down the road. But considering the massive amount of upheaval in my life right now I am somehow managing to not be curled up in the middle of the floor, sucking my thumb.
So back to the upheaval. Ryan and I started talking a few months ago about moving sometime this year. The exact where, when, how - and every other necessary detail - are still a question mark for a number of reasons due to other things we’re dealing with. That uncertainty alone would typically have been enough to send me into a hissy fit. Combine that with the need to cover other bases in case we do pull up our San Francisco stakes - like applying for schools - and the necessity of not losing sight of my commitments here, and you’ve got the perfect storm for a change-loving, uncertainty-hating gal like me.
Then last week I lost my job. Kind of out of the blue. Fortunately, I’d maintained my client relationships while working for Signpost so I had a safety net but nevertheless, I’d assumed that if I ever did lose my job I’d be reduced to the thumb-sucking, fetal ball of hot mess mentioned above. I’m not at all ruling out that this could still happen. But so far I’ve enjoyed re-discovering the flexibility of being completely autonomous. I think I’m going to go back to only working Monday-Thursday!
Three day weekends aside, I didn’t join Signpost for the great pay and shortened work weeks (c’m on, it’s a startup). I joined it because even though I could make more money and work less while working for myself, I wanted to be a part of a team again. I wanted to collaborate and have inside jokes with my coworkers and help determine the direction of a company. I still might want that, but I’m not worried about finding another job. I’m not even worried that I can’t really start looking until we figure out what’s going on in other areas of our life.
I’ve thought about just going to seminary full-time and pursuing a hospital chaplaincy internship like I was going to before I accepted the Signpost job. But I’m not worried that I don’t know what school I’d attend or that last year I turned down the internship program into which I was accepted.
And all of this not-worrying has me worried. It’s so unlike me. While I suspect that that thumbsucking girl in the fetal position is still inside me, I hope my new-found contentedness in the midst of chaos will continue to drown her out. I don’t have time for her anyway; I’m too busy being not-worried.