Distracted Musings

What would you do if you weren't afraid?

It feels like I've been living my own custom-made mid-life crisis for a few years now (I'm sure some of you have an exaggerated nod going on right now).

I want a slower life in the country
I want the opportunities and culture afforded by the city
I want to travel the world
I want to do my own thing
I want to be an author
I want to have global impact...impact TBD
I want to be a public servant and change policy...like, I want to be Secretary of State
I want to innovate in the private sector
I want my own business
I don't actually like change all that much and want stability
I want to live in the mountains, in the desert, by the ocean, and near an international airport
I want to buy a house
I'm scared to plant roots
I want to be a movie star

...okay, snuck that last one in there to see if you were paying attention.

Two things.  What would I do if I weren't afraid, and, how can I relegate all of these wants to some future realm and just enjoy the present?  The grass is always greener on the other side--been there done that, don't want to focus there.  Enjoy the now and pick a 'future' apple off the tree, on my own terms.  I can do everything on that list if I want, life is not an all-or-nothing choice, and with my newfound private sector freedom, I'm going to enjoy each moment I have to think about what I want--even when it makes me feel lost.
    
I've made an intentional effort to take time for introspection (an hour per week actually slotted on my calendar), but recently, after each week I have more questions and fewer answers.  Maybe that means I'm on the right track.  Like once you start to feel the cascade of questions you're finally making progress?  The good news (maybe) is that Pancho is on the same page.  I guess it's not always good because I lose my sanity check but it's fantastic because we have the most beautiful, deep, conversations late at night that lead to crazy ideas and incremental steps toward greatness.

I need to create and be creative.  I'm writing a novel, selling my photography, designing greeting cards, and licensing my pictures to other greeting card companies.  I'm owning projects at work that benefit the greater organization and challenge me in wonderfully intellectual ways.  I'm picking back up on a business plan for an invention I dropped last year and writing a draft business plan for a new idea.  This focus (although totally scattered) has has been hugely impactful on my spirit after leaving government.  Creativity fuels my soul and makes me happy.  Tired sometimes, but happy.

I've also re-connected with a few old friends this month and I found myself revitalized, inspired, and so badly missing all the feelings of stability...you know, where you stay in one spot long enough to make friends and create community.  It left me feeling nostalgic, and really just sad about the leave of absence from 'normal' life our family has taken.  I wouldn't trade our experiences for the world but there are definitely realities that have become apparent now that we're back.

It feels like the rest of the world went on without us and we're fighting our way back in.  But with that, we're having to reestablish old relationships.  Ones that were once so strong.  Because years have passed, families have grown, relationships have started and ended, lives and people have changed.  And for the last five years, we've been on the outside looking in.  It's hard to keep in touch when you don't live in the same place and it's even harder when you leave the country.  We finally resigned to the fact that we would miss out.  People wouldn't think to call us and wouldn't take the time to keep us involved in the intricacies of their lives when we called to chat.  We wouldn't be able to visit and eventually, would call less often for the same reasons--it's hard to keep people involved when the distance grows so wide.  Our love for our friends and family never changed, but our level of involvement did.

So now it feels like we're starting over.  In different ways, many of which I didn't expect.  I'm starting over at work as I navigate a new sector, a new industry, and a job I've never done before with new co-workers and a totally different organizational philosophy.  We're starting over building our community, helping our children make friends, living in the U.S. with young kids, and trying to reconnect with friends and family whose lives have gone on while we were absent.  Pancho and I are both starting over with this new level of freedom afforded by simply living in America without government control of every aspect of our life--this one is perhaps the most exiting 'start over' and what we spend our late night discussions playing with.

It's been seven months since we moved to California and I feel on the edge of greatness.  There are so many routes we could take to include simply relishing what we have, what we are, and where we've come.  We have the time and space to ask all these questions and no pressure to do anything unless it's on our terms.  Which means we can patiently wait for the answers to come and soak up each ounce of 'the now'.

Old friends, you'll hear more from us.  New friends, you'll see more of us.  Family, keep riding our dream train--you'll see more direction from us and probably hear more from us too :-)

A Gracious Memorial Day

I woke up to snuggles from my babies, sunshine peeking through the window casting light on their little faces in a way that made me take a slower breath to experience the moment longer.  I got up, put on a sweatshirt and sunglasses, and drove to Starbucks while Pancho started breakfast for the kids.  I drove with the windows down, it was already 60 degrees at 9am.  Memorial Day patriotism filled the car and I sang my little country heart out while I waited in line for my double shot of espresso over ice.  I pulled out of the driveway, took a sip, and breathed in another slow breath.  I was consciously aware of how happy I felt.  I have so much in life to be grateful for and I felt it so deeply this morning.

I was on my way home when I heard a siren. All the lights turned red as the noise got closer.  Cars already in the intersection quickly pulled through and slowed to a stop in a neat line by the curb.  Everything was still as a bright red fire truck sped through, lights flashing, siren blaring.  I felt the tears start.  They well up every time I see a fire truck.  I know, it's weird.

It wasn't until we moved back from India that this started.  My emotions are complex (I'm sure you're smiling and nodding if you know me).  We really didn't live in India that long and I haven't traveled that much relative to the size of the world.  The places I haven't been far out number the places I have yet my awareness of my privilege is significant.

Today it was the siren, the truck, the way the cars pulled over, the understanding look drivers flashed as they move aside, the country music, and the overwhelming gratitude I felt before I even arrived at that intersection this Memorial Day morning.

We have a system in America by which anyone can call 9-1-1 and something will happen.  Someone will come.  Not only will someone come but the people who come have been trained to save your life, to save your home, to rescue whomever or whatever needs rescuing.  When they come, they have trucks with equipment and unexpired medicine they know how to use.  Cars pull over when they hear sirens.  Even on packed freeways, cars inch their way to the edge to make room for emergency personnel to pass.  It's not like this everywhere.

In India, they are short on paramedics.  You can call the equivalent of 9-1-1 but you're better off driving yourself or jumping in a rickshaw.  The ambulance will eventually come but there is no guarantee the people inside know anything about medicine.  Depending on traffic it could take hours to get to you and hours to then get you to a hospital--no one pulls over when they hear those sirens and they'll honk back, annoyed, when the emergency vehicle violates the rules of the road.

There are no fire hydrants.  If there is a fire, a water truck will eventually come but hopefully you kept the fire at bay with your bucket of sand that sits in place of an extinguisher.  Maybe your neighbors brought their buckets to help you.  Maybe you live in the slums and that fire spread so quickly it destroyed yours, and 500 of your neighbors homes in a matter of an hour.

As a parent of a then 2-year old, I couldn't imagine the helplessness felt by parents who relied on that system to help when their baby was hurt.  Parents who likely didn't know that it could be different.  I've been fortunate to experience both worlds and I know that.  America is not perfect and there are underserved regions of our country that experience our system differently.  But, the difference between having a system and not is stark and I am grateful every moment for the systems we have in America.  Even the ones that still need work.  Because we also have a system for fixing systems.

So, when I hear the sirens and see the truck, a rush of emotions come.  And they're complex but the crux is the gratitude I have for every second I enjoy the benefits of life in my home country--benefits of systems as simple as firetrucks and paramedics.  Having these thoughts today brought some extra tears as I thought more deeply of all the Americans who have lost their lives in pursuit of our country's safety and freedom.  The men and women who have sacrificed so I can count on that ambulance to come, to bring a paramedic, and to take my children to a clean emergency room.

I'm not looking to analyze the benefits or shortcomings of our system (not in this post at least), rather only to recognize the difference between having a system and not.  And, the cost of creating and protecting that system.  Thank you to those who never came home, who died in service to give me the very things that make my tears well up each time I hear those sirens.

My husband, family members, and dear friends served our country...and they came home.  Today, my heart remembers those who didn't and I wish nothing more than for them, and their families, to know how much gratitude I feel for their contributions to this world.

Courage Momentum

Today was a travel day for me (Legs) as I hopped on my first flight since leaving the Foreign Service.  Where to?  Ann Arbor, Michigan!  Yes, it's not as exotic as the places we've been in the last four years but I've never been to MI so check another state off the list :-)

I spent most of today reading my friend Stephanie Diamond's book Mountains Never Meet and was inspired to do some creative fulfillment of my own.  Stay tuned for a full review of her novel as I seriously can't put it down and am moved on many different levels--I even called Pancho to tell him all about it.  I'm also crowd sourcing the best way to do Mt. Kilimanjaro and told Pancho that he and I will have that adventure someday (you seriously have to read the book...)!

Reading Stephanie's book today helped give me the courage to get some of my own work out there.  I've been playing around with istockphoto and have been approved to contribute my photography (their website is really buggy and currently you can't see any of my submissions) and just today I submitted photos to three different greeting card companies to see if I can get any traction.  At some point I'll probably have to create a formal website or get better at categorizing my flickr account.  One step at a time.  You just have to show up, right?  I'm continuing to write when I have the chance and have become more strategic about outlining my story and setting goals.  I'll tell you when I can quit my day job ;-)

Hello from the air and happy creativity to you all!

Daydreams

I took the boys on a road trip this weekend so Pancho could have some time to do homework (like actual time to think without orangutans hollering in the background). My mom and I used to go on spontaneous road trips and there's just something about driving through country without a destination. I had a rough idea of where I wanted to go (East and not on freeways) and since it's 2016 and we live in Silicon Valley--I used GPS.

We had a blast! I learned that we live only 30 minutes from a valley of vineyards and I better take Pancho on a date soon! We wound through bright green hills on a two-lane road far from the freeway, the country music driving us forward (okay I was the only one singing). Flipper and Thumper played with each other while looking for trains and animals between patches of wildflowers.

We stopped at the first Mc.Donald's we saw once we were out of the hills and Thumper said, "Mom, I know this is a chicken nugget, but is there any chicken in it?" So perceptive, that one :-).

Onward to the strategically selected hotel with an indoor swimming pool. We settled in, played in the pool, went out for dinner, and watched cartoons in bed. The next morning, we cuddled in the giant king-size hotel bed, I enjoyed my coffee, we had breakfast and got back on the road to come home. Back to the city. I have to say, I really didn't want to come home. I wanted to see Pancho, of course, but there are times I just don't want to go back to real life.

As soon as I leave the city I feel this instant release, like I've just come 'home'. I enjoy it for as long as I can before I start daydreaming about what life would be like. What if we lived here? What would we do for work? I always wanted to own a farm...or a vineyard. Would the kids like it? What would they miss from city life? What's stopping us? I even start looking at houses online and check out the quality of schools in different neighborhoods. The time always feels too short and back to the city we go. But then, as soon as we hit the edges of the city, I get excited about the work I'm doing and the potential to have far-reaching, international impact in a way I don't think I could have otherwise. So my thoughts shift to scheming how far out we could live while having our feet in both worlds. Would I spend all my time commuting? Would I ever get to enjoy the 'slow' life if I continue to work in the 'fast' lane? The desire to get off the proverbial 'treadmill' is very strong for me right now but I can't separate these feelings from general feelings of wanting to retire and pursue my hobbies in the countryside after I've left my mark on the world...note that the desire to leave my mark is still there so perhaps I've got to nail that one down first.

Question of the year: what sort of impact do I want to have on the world? It's funny, as a university recruiter, candidates ask me all the time what advice I have for them as they start their careers. The advice I give is the advice I am still trying to internalize. Narrow your interests, pick three general categories (know that they can and will change). Next, identify what sort of impact you want to have on the world. Make sure that each step you take drives you toward making that impact in one of the three areas. Three is arbitrary but I can tell you from personal experience, you have to narrow if you ever want to achieve a meaningful level of impact.

I still haven't defined my impact or narrowed my interests BUT I am taking steps to do both--each Friday I have set aside one hour of introspection time so you can expect much more strategic direction from me this year :-).

These last few weeks I've been daydreaming of life as an author, living in the country, raising my boys, taking them to all of their after school activities, and selling my photography online. At other times, I want to be a political appointee and bring change to federal agencies. I think about going to law school and practicing immigration law, getting an MBA and shifting into business operations at my current company, consulting big companies on people operations and unconscious bias, finding my place in advocacy through organizations that are important to me like LeanIn.org or the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media. I even have moments of crazy when I want to learn to code and become an engineer.

Patience has never been my virtue, at least that's one thing I know to be true about myself. Writing is helpful, sometimes just putting my thoughts out there helps them leave my mind and frees up more space to focus...and narrow.

I tend to relate emotions to songs (if you haven't noticed) so, here are two songs that defined my weekend.

Natasha Bedingfield, "Unwritten"

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten


Florida-Georgia Line, "Dirt"

You get your hands in it, plant your roots in it
Dusty head lights dance with your boots in it
You write her name on it, spin your tires on it
Build your corn field, whiskey bonfires on it
You bet your life on it

It's that elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That postgame party field you circle up on
And when it rains you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
The mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a ten percent down white picket fence house on this dirt

You've mixed some sweat with it, taken a shovel to it
You've stuck some crosses and some painted goal posts through it
You know you came from it
And someday you'll return to it...

My Next 30 Years

Soul searching.  Still, you ask?  Yes.  It's probably exhausting watching me find my place in the world but I hope I never stop searching and I like to think I'm creating value along the way :-).

Admittedly, writing is something I love yet something I never do.  Here I am again on a year-long hiatus from posting and a year-long hiatus from writing anything other than work emails.  I bought a five-year happiness journal in which you write one sentence per day (ONE sentence!) and there are month gaps between entries.  I have two young children, a relationship, a full-time job, a dog, and a billion other things going on so I've learned to give myself permission to connect sporadically to any one of my many passions.

But, the urge to get lost in my own thoughts has become stronger over the last year.  Possibly because I don't get the chance to think while my mind is sorting out which of the four voices (the dog's included) I should be listening to when Flipper has dumped his milk on the floor and Thumper is heartbroken that Flipper has his really 'special' plastic egg, and Pancho is yelling for a rag while giving the 1-2-3 ultimatum to Flipper who is not responding to our time-out strategy and Bambi is high-pitch howling along to the cries of the children.

Since I 'transitioned' out of the Foreign Service (more on this in the next post...I swear I'm going to write more regularly!) four months ago, I find myself sharing my story with people from my past who, in what feels like droves, are asking my thoughts or advice.  I've kept journals since my first year of college (online, traditional, hotel notepads, loose line-ruled paper, sticky notes, and the margins of my calendar) and have thought a lot about turning it all into something.  Fiction, non-fiction, motivational, sci-fi, I have no idea but in the era of ebooks and self-publishing, it seems like the right time to do a 'must' rather than a 'should'.  It's funny that I feel this drive to pursue passion when I've just joined the #1 company to work for, one that is known for attracting passionate people and encouraging growth and innovation.  Maybe I'm finally in a spot where I'm giving myself permission to pursue my passions at any rate that I like while also feeling supported by my employer to be myself and follow my heart.  That seems like a recipe for something but I'm not sure what it is yet :-)

For now, my 'self' time is over and I'm off to satisfy another part of my soul playing tic-tac-toe with Thumper.  With a lot less time set aside to address the complexities of expat life as a government employee, you can expect to hear more from me!

Because I love country music, and Tim McGraw, and part of my soul-searching includes day-dreaming about owning a house in the Texas countryside, this is fitting...

I think I’ll take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now it’s time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years

Hey my next thirty years I’m gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things I’ve done
Maybe now I’ve conquered all my adolescent fears
And I’ll do it better in my next thirty years

My next thirty years I’m gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what I’m doing here
In my next thirty years

Griswold Family Vacation--In other words: too much misadventure with a happy ending

It's been a year and a half since we returned from India and drove across the country while I (Legs) was six months pregnant and I have to say, our little family hasn't really been interested in spending much time in transit since then.  But, we decided to get back on the horse (literally) and take a trip in our own neck of the woods (it's relative) to experience the good old outdoors and soak up some sun.

Day One

We arrived at the Seattle airport and were told we booked four seats instead of three (Flipper is under two years old so is usually considered a lap baby with no seat cost) but (oh by the way no refunds) the aircraft changed and your four seats are all in different rows, talk to the people at the gate to fix it.

We are trusted travelers through the TSA pre-check program so we proceeded to security and were pulled into another line since we were a family...not the pre-check line.  The TSA agent swabbed our hands and Pancho alarmed for explosives (???).  He was separated and whisked away while me and the boys proceeded through security, removing everything we wouldn't need to remove had we been in the pre-check line.  The boys and I (worried of course) found Pancho, who was being felt all up and down, and listened as the TSA agent lectured him on going through the wrong line...because had we been in the pre-check line they wouldn't have tested his hands.  We never figured out what caused the problem and were freed to catch our flight.

At the gate.  The Alaska Air staff tried passenger after passenger on a fully booked flight asking if people would shift around so we could sit together.  We ended up getting three seats in a row and one somewhere else...so we sat with the lap baby even though we paid for four seats (mistakenly). 

Smooth flight, smooth rental car experience, beautiful San Jose sunshine, and we started our drive to the horse farm in Pescadero.  Flipper got my genes and got car sick.  Throw up in the rental car and all over the rented car seats.

Everyone back on track and we arrived at the farm.  It's a farm, we know that, it's a working farm, fine.  But it definitely lacked a clean up before paying guests arrived.  And the clown jack-in-the-box next to the giant horse leg in the shadow box window to the barn was a little creepy.  

Day Two

We explored the farm and headed to the beach!  Unlike San Jose, it was cold and rainy on the coast so the boys built a driftwood shelter and learned hard lessons after throwing sand in the air when the wind is blowing toward you.  Later in the day Thumper found a marshmallow gun (that shoots marshmallows) and decided to taste the rotten marshmallow that was stuck inside surrounded by black mold.  We thought we nipped that one in the bud with a stern warning about getting sick but later found him doing it again.

Day Three

Golden Gate Bridge

Streets of San Francisco

No trip to the Bay area is complete without a trip to San Francisco so we got up early and drove an hour North to experience the big city.  How strange, Thumper felt sick from the minute he got up.  He started to develop a fever.  We drove to San Francisco, walked to the beach at the South side of the Golden Gate Bridge, took a few pictures, and got back in the car to go home.  Back on the road and now it's Thumper's turn to christen the rented car seat in the rented car.  We made it back to BBQ for dinner with family who lives in the area and just before they arrived, Thumper threw up again and had a 103F fever.  

Day Four

We planned to meet our family for coffee and a trip to a nearby kids farm.  First thing in the morning while changing Flipper's diaper, I found a deer tick feeding off his skin in the folds of his leg.  Totally. Freaked. Out.  Thankfully, Pancho packed a first aid kit with tweezers and alcohol (swabs :-)) and thankfully my mother in-law is a nurse.  Only 27 more days until I can stop worrying about Lyme Disease.  We packed up everything and booked a hotel in Santa Clara.  We headed into town for coffee because really, it had been a long and not very relaxing trip so far.  Waiting for our coffee, I noticed movement in Flipper's hair.  A flea scurried across his scalp.  We headed to the kids farm and had a blast, knowing that we were headed to a clean hotel room at the end of the day.

Pozole, Horchata, Strawberry Water

Hotel in Santa Clara

We left Half Moon Bay and crossed the mountains into amazing weather, palm trees galore, and sun, sun sun!  The hotel room wasn't ready when we arrived so we headed to a nearby park that was FILLED with families having fun.  Minutes after we started to play, Thumper had a new friend and Flipper bolted off to drink out of someone else's red Solo cup.  I chased after him and found myself chatting with Gustavo, who was there with around 25 members of his family celebrating a baptism.  He offered to get Flipper his own cup of Horchata and came back with some strawberry water too.  Not five minutes later but he was back offering us some of their food.  He took me over to their picnic bench and handed me a bowl.  He filled my bowl with each ingredient, one at a time, of the best soup I've ever had: pozole. Gustavo filled a bowl for Pancho at the same time and heaped on the salsa!  We returned to our grass and enjoyed the heck out of that soup while the kids played.  We met another couple there with their grandchildren who were nice as could be.  About a half our later, Gustavo was back with cake!  And that was it, we were sold, Santa Clara was our favorite city of the trip and part of our daydreams for the future.

Day Five

Capybara

Lemurs

We visited another zoo and kids park in San Jose.  The weather was incredible.  I cried when both boys rode a ride alone together and Thumper went on his first roller coaster with Pancho.  We found a taqueria with amazing everything and enjoyed being able to drink the water at the hotel.  Later in the day we took a long drive from San Jose to Menlo Park through Sunnyvale, Mountain View, and Palo Alto to see what Silicon Valley is all about.  It was very cool.

Day Six

Back to Vancouver and back to work tomorrow!

It was a rough start to what ended up being a wonderful trip.  Sometimes you have to stick it out and sometimes you just have to throw in the towel and do something different.  This was one of those times we just needed to do something different and we were happy we did!  As Pancho said, sometimes you just have to leave the horse farm.  This was actually a particularly insightful revelation for us as a family right now.  We came back totally energized and excited for what the next year has to offer.  Our last summer in Vancouver begins!

The Giant Octopus in the Room

As usual, I took a break from all things creative because I work full-time and created two small humans who require most of my other time.  And, as previously mentioned, I'm slowly getting back small bits of 'creative' time (read: time not spent cleaning up poop, throwing away poop, or discouraging someone from eating poop).  True to our family style, I exhibit the 'go big or go home' tendency often.  This round hit me about a month or two ago, and a light bulb went off one day while I was feeling frustrated with and about time.  The giant octopus in the room was that being creative and having time to myself makes me happy and fun.  No one wants to tell you that you aren't fun, and I don't think that anyone but me really noticed, but at least in the room that is my thoughts, the giant octopus was the obvious fact that more fun has been necessary for a while.  Not family fun, I love spending time with our rag-tag bunch, but self-fun.

So I started doing fun things.  I bought a 3D printer (!!!YES!!), started substituting TED talks for the morning news a few days out of the week, began blogging again, started a new blog (not for public consumption yet), am still working on my book (it's actually in a Word document now), got all my photography up to date on Flickr (a few photos have been used under Creative Commons license on other websites), booked a family vacation at a horse farm, started getting more massages, started running again, and let the house be dirty, the laundry unfolded, the to-do list unfinished...because guess what?  Sometimes you just need to have FUN!

What do you do that is fun for YOU?  

Also, next time I will write in more detail about some of these fun things.  For now, this is all I could muster with the few minutes of energy I have left after Thumper and Flipper have gone to bed and the house is quiet.