Destination: Change! Despite the messiness of it all

My previous post focused on these seasons of transition, alluding to changes within ourselves and extending outward to our environment. I have so much change going on right now that if I were a compass, I'd be uselessly and frantically spinning (or, maybe of some use to a crazy like Jack Sparrow).

Is change good? I believe that yes, usually it's a welcomed chaos that moves us out of complacency and into maturity. It stretches our limits and defines new boundaries and discoveries about ourselves. Change is challenging.

But it is also stressful and unsettling. Sleeping lightly, I easily awaken to all the chatter in my head - the details regarding what I need to do in a fixed set of time. What difference is this from having a baby, starting a new school, changing careers? None, really. On a smaller scale, even bringing in an eight-week old puppy last fall was right along a similar vein.

I rarely recount my personal life, but I'm taking a plunge here to describe some events in my life in order to, perhaps, connect with you.

For the most part, I am rewarded by the changes I embrace. Usually these are changes that I have opted for, though, and this new set of challenges have really been forced upon me. I think back upon the Great Depression as a setting for "The Journey of Natty Gann" and how her father chose to take a job 2,000 miles away; there just weren't any other options.

I'm in a similar situation: I need full time employment now (actually, a year ago would've been better!). The sustainability factor compels me. I must earn enough to live on as a single woman with my now eight-month-old puppy. And in this age of the Great Recession, I'm lucky enough to find something wonderful. Wonderful in that it is a perfect career step (from 'assistant' to 'director') and the project -running a small public library - will be fascinating and exciting.

I'm sad that I have to leave my present jobs, though. This is a very hard switch and, like most times of change, one I wouldn't choose for myself. My work with J has been terrific and she's been the best supervisor anyone could ask for. But when she told me that the funding for our project may be reduced so much as to eliminate my part-time position, that clinched it.

I also have two other doors open that I'll have to close soon: a job interview already set up (but not until June) and, I am told, I am a strong candidate for another position I applied for. But the interviews are not to take place until after April 15th. And after delaying this small public library a little, the final deadline is April 8th. I had to decide, with determination, fortitude, and confidence I lacked.

I can't say it any better than: It's scary! I have a to-do list, and I'll start at the beginning with my personal transformation. Then we'll take a look at how this can be applied to a more general process of change:

• Find a full time job (I've been hoping my present part-time job would be able to blossom into full-time, but the economy even threatens its p/t existance). Check.
  
  
• Find a place to live (I have narrowed down some possibilities - I think I'll have something settled by next week). Almost check.
  
  
• Finish my obligations (this is important! - Besides not wanting to burn any bridges, it's just good to do)
  
  
• Move, from reserving a "UHaul" to making all those address changes, banks, driver's license, etc. etc.
  
  
• Settle in (The late Mr. Rogers said that it takes six months to fully adjust to such a major change, and to relax and enjoy it. I like that advice.)

Now we can look at this more broadly. The factors that compel us to change (for most of us are compelled and don't often seek it out) usually come from an outside source. When change has to happen, it can lead us to great adventures, growth, and, when the dust settles, a beautiful new life. Based upon the steps above, we can say it usually involves:

• Find and pursue the thing that will lead you to change (a new job, career, beginning grad school, enlisting in the Peace Corps - something along those lines. Careful not to put "change" on someone else - such as marriage or a new puppy. Although we have to adapt to those situations, they involve the complexities of another personality. )
  
  
• That commitment will affect other areas of your life - you may have to move, give up some luxuries, change some behaviors (like, get up really early in the morning!). Clean up the old, tie up loose ends as much as possible, and then fully face the new horizon.
  

• Give it time! I'd say six months for a major change is a good amount, in my personal experience. This will vary, depending upon how quickly a person adapts. Once the honeymoon period is over, the reality of the situation will challenge us and at times, can cause doubt. Give yourself time to feel these uncertainties and move through them.

As I told J the other day, I am relying on quotes these days to fall back upon - my mind is quite muddled by all the details and stress at times. I tell myself I'll be okay, hang in there, think of the positive. I breathe as slowly and fully as I can, and stretch my arms to the sky and the earth. And I count my blessings. And read some quotes.

Just take a look around. There are many people going through hard times and many who offer their support and wisdom. We've all been there (or will be), and we can give something of ourselves to each other in this way. I took a look online and came to a Universalist Unitarian's sermon, with the following excerpt:

And so it is that I charge us to messiness. If you live a relatively sanitized life, get messy. Engage in the muck. Have a crisis. Get dirty.

If you already are living with the mess, then reconcile yourself to it. Reconcile yourself to the fact that indeed the marvelous doesn’t come from the sanitized life, it comes from engaging in the muck.

As Nietzsche wrote: “That which doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.” I have a friend whose grandmother used to say, “things that hurt us instruct.” He asks the questions of us, who has ever understood life without first having his heart broken? Who has really seen, except through tears? Who really lives, without the mess?

From: "Despite the Mess" sermon by Kaaren

Broadening my view even further, I can see how small my problems are as compared to so many. At least I have fresh drinking water, vitamins, food, a family's love, friends, great colleagues, and a job to look forward to.

As Sheryl Crow sings, "God bless this mess."

It's good to keep things in perspective.

Congratulations to each of us who embrace - and live through - these changes!

What does it take?

Ever since my first library job took me behind the desk where the librarians worked and I began to join them in their mysterious process, I have had a increasingly distorted view of information seeking. From that point on, finding library materials and information is very different from what I remember as a patron. It's not that I can see over the counter any better, although I'm taller than I used to be. It's more that I understand some of the secrets librarians learn in library school and while on the desk, helping patrons and each other.



And there are many! It just depends upon who you talk to; if you find a colleague entrenched in 'library-speak,' you can really gain some valuable tips. Like, calling audio books "nonmusical recordings" so that you remember to use this search term on the catalog. And that's sure to impress patrons.

Or is it?

In my ideal library, patrons can look up audio books through a variety of terms; audio books, recorded books, talking books, books on tape, downloadable books, ebooks, and yes, nonmusical recordings will all bring the same results. Exactly.





We use our expertise to help, and that's impressive enough. When we click with a patron, it's amazing. And when we work together to find, learn, discover, and locate the treasure of information, that's the relationship building aspect of library work that lasts forever. It can happen with children, students, peers, adults, home-bound, seniors and teens. It's a social interaction that provides substance to the questions asked. It's the tension of the moment of internalizing, growing those synapsis, and always respectful of the customer's turf in which we are invited (or sometimes subtly need to invade) to participate in the world of our patrons.


Instead of correcting and instructing, maybe we can someday make our catalogs and resources reflect each side of the desk, like a double rainbow.

Transition Months Bring Treasures

The last few early spring mornings and lengthening evenings rouse even the most grumbling, sleepy lives. Each day moves onto our streets and yards and into our homes as we go through our routines, bringing rosy-golden light and relaxing warmth, like the palm of a loving mother on our backs. The birds and squirrels play and chase. Songs fill the air and I catch myself humming a tune I really don't like, so it surprises me. But then I nod and acknowledge that it is, indeed, appropriate:

"Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a beautiful day!"

Every day is filled with surprises. I shy away from the darkening clouds and bad news (of which there are plenty to last a decade) in favor of a smile at these charming discoveries: a nest building here, a compliment from a neighbor, an unexpected "thank you" email from a library patron, a funny story, sweet talking telephone calls.

Here, to help greet you with a silly video is Hugh Jackman singing...yes, you guessed it. "Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'!" complete with farmer's garb. (Honest, it's Hugh Jackman!)

Have a wonderful week!

Shoulds are invasive

Lately, "should" is a word that has been creeping in around me, infusing my thoughts and conversations like an unwanted ivy that has invaded every space of my garden before I realized it was there. Now I see lengths of wiry green tendrils drape my deck, trees, swinging chair, statuary, even the bushes. And when I look closer, I see new ivy growth everywhere. The "shoulds" are buds sprouting into my life.

Personally, I am on a brink of a major change. These life-changing challenges affect every aspect of my life, from my daily awakened world of work and play to my nightly dreaming world of processing and rest. "Should" comes knocking, politely asking questions as it enters my home;

"Should I allow myself to feel...what? Sad? Happy? Relieved? All of the above?"
"Should I show these feelings? Should I scream and be dramatic or be silent and calm?"
"Should I stay away or continue on as if these moments are a continuation of a string of changing days?"
"Should I seek help or refuse it?"
"Should I rejoice or mourn?"
"Should I plan or wait to make any decisions?"

But then, the Should starts showing signs of worry, coloring the innocent questions like a drop of food dye in a crystal glass of water. I begin to hear judgments;

"She should've known."
"She should've known better."
"She should've been a better [fill in the blank with a noun]."

Is this the cousin of the innocent Should, or just another side to its personality?

Instead of becoming overwhelmed, I decide I can find a reasonable solution. Options:

1. Change - stop using Should.
2. Accept - so what if "should" is used?

Should can be a harsh and fierce judge standing on the soapbox of Assumption. I hope to be careful about my use of this word as I work with patrons, students, my family, and myself. Although I sometimes "should've known," I am capable of not knowing and even defiance (though not so much as when I was a teen). Despite knowledge of what we should do, we can choose to try some new style, accent, plant, life lesson...

...but with the steps in that direction comes the responsibility wrapped up in choice.

And that is a topic for another time.

May each of us balance Should with Want and find our heart's desires!

Last Day of February 2010, with a St. Bernard and a Goat

This has been quite a year so far. It came on with a fierceness like the White Tiger's pouncing attack and play. It came to my home and family, my neighborhood, my community, and my library work from many directions, from the snapping teeth of winter to the growling threats of something predatory lurking just beyond my door.

Oftentimes in such challenging days and nights, a person can feel shell-shocked and unsettled. I think of the Haitians and Chileans who look to the sky and sea and earth, waiting for the next strike. How many years will it take to feel secure again? How many years before the anxious worry abates enough to experience a deep, restful sleep?

Personally, a similar sense of fragility exists around my jobs' budgets. What once was accepted is now coveted. It seeps into my daily finances, and, as with all my neighbors, affects our future spending decisions regarding the new car, a vacation, how to afford our children's tuition. I work two to three part-time jobs and have no health insurance, and I consider myself lucky as I move from day to day, week to week, and look forward to a new month.

March may come in as a lion tomorrow, and with it, the promise of a calm, warm spring in just 21 days (well, I know that is the equinox, but it's nice to have a date to look forward to).

I believe that in these next three weeks something good is going to happen, and this is why:

This morning, after taking my puppy for a walk and getting the laundry going, I zipped to the store and then to drop in on a friend I hadn't seen in a while. I needed a shoulder to cry on and sound advice from this level-headed woman. After cups of herbal tea (from Seattle) and a good visit (thanks Joan!), I was ready to get on home. I took the back way; it is a scenic, Sunday drive road. As I moved past the apple orchard, I saw two animals crossing the road in the distance. At first I thought these were deer, but as I neared, I saw that the one in front was a St. Bernard and following, a dark gray goat.

The goat had stopped although the huge dog seemed to try to get the goat to follow it up the snowy drift. But the goat bleated and protested as it stood in the ongoing traffic's lane. Luckily there was very little by way of cars at this time of day on a Sunday.

I slowed and pulled up beside her and rolled down my window. The goat immediately turned and looked me right in the eyes and bleahed at me.

"Hey now," I said, always believing that animals somehow understand our tone if not our words. "Get off the road," said, shooing it with a wave of my hand. "Go on. It's not safe here."

"Bleah," said the goat with a tremolo effect as she took a couple of rapid steps toward me. So much for understanding.

Just then, the huge St. Bernard then lumbered off the snow bank and headed toward me at a trot. I immediately thought "Cujo." My heart picked up its pace and my hand reached for the button to quickly move the window up. By then another car was in view behind me, so I thought I'd just get going, that they had probably noticed this event. Sure enough, while I tooled on down the road I saw the silver Volvo slow down and come to a stop by the pair. It wasn't long before they, too, followed me down the road.

Why Did I Do This Puppy Thing?

It's not like I am asking this question out of desperation or any regrets. On the contrary, I'm literally amazed about what this "puppy path" has done for me. From my innermost place where there are no words, I finally began to form some coherent realizations to my "Why did I get a puppy?" question. After all, I'm more often a cat person. My disposition and life-style have demanded a less social and more independent friend and that has not changed.

What has changed?

It could be my age. I'm a mother with two young adult sons. Maybe since they don't need my attention so much I could turn my skills and nature toward another (and loving) being, to nurture and play, train and care for.

It could be my lifestyle. I'm a librarian who now holds three part-time jobs, and I have the blessed employers who are foresighted enough to allow some work from my home office. So I'm here more often than not and like the company. She reminds me to get up from my computer every couple of hours or so (we're house-training, after all). She's quiet, not yappy or wild, though she can get puppy-crazed at times. She likes routine as much as I do and she doesn't mind when I plan out the day as a schedule. We kind of let each other lead although really, I'm the boss and she seems to know and like that (maybe that will change during her adolescent phase).

It could be the puppy herself. I think this is the bottom line. Sophie is amazing. Her size (small, not toy), breed (Maltipoo), disposition, intelligence, and eagerness to learn are making this whole adjustment time work. She's the closest thing to a perfect puppy that I've ever seen. For the first time, I feel that I will miss her puppy-hood. Usually I'm drudging through the potty training, teething, mouthing, high energy, and initial training (sit, down) with a forced-upon patience.

This time, I'm laughing and playing and catch myself wondering what I did to deserve such a good friend. It's just what I needed to get me through this bleak recession and the winter months ahead.

I checked out a few books and did some research, of course. It took me about a year to come to Sophie after a couple of trials and errors. Books about the breeds, puppy training, and Dog 101 are essential and I'm a fierce advocate for puppy prep prior to bringing the bundle home. You just don't know what to expect, though.

Many people equate the new family member as similar to having a new baby in the house. I believe this is true to a point. Puppies grow a lot faster than humans and her needs are, in a sense, more basic. This little fluff ball is delightful, but there is no way I would confuse my daily interaction with her as anything more or less than the human-dog relationship. Yes, I coddle her some. I have to admit that. She goes with me just about everywhere I can take her.

But Sophie is no wimpy lap dog, either. The Maltese is a traditional royal dog, and I can see that in her. Her mix of Maltese and Poodle initiates intelligence and loyalty. She guards me with a growing love - and it's mutual. Her full white and apricot non-shedding coat keeps her from getting chilled during rain and chilly fall morning walks while we romp around the leaf-strewn paths.

And here's a bonus: Thanks to my Prius's GPS, I can see the park-lands in green with little evergreen trees identifying them, scrolling by while the map follows my car's route. Before, I had no reason to pull off my main errand-running ruts. Now, I say to Sophie "Let's go!" and her little tail gets a-waggin'. With leash and clean-up bag in hand, we see which way the path leads us. If a runner or another dog-walker approach, Sophie is delighted but is learning to also be polite.

Yesterday's revelation - that I would miss these walks in the woods, by creeks and riverbeds - hit me hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. This little being had brought me to places I really needed to see and be in. The early morning sunlight, fresh air, and exercise are generally a good thing. But combine that with a devoted look of love and delight from my black-eyed pup, and I am stunned.

This is why I have a puppy, and not just any puppy, either. This is why Sophie and I are friends forever. She is precocious and fun and challenges me to re-examine my wants, needs, and self. She is a gift as precious as any new found friend, and I am truly lucky.

Darkening

Standard time resumed a week ago. It's one of those things that cause cyclical feelings, which never seem to be resolved. As a librarian, I look forward to the inevitable question(s), "Why do we have Daylight Savings Time?" and "What's it all about, anyway?" because I can't ever remember this one. I know it has something to do with farms, or maybe school-aged children and safety, or perhaps it is really a way to save electricity (Daylight "Savings" is my clue). None of this really makes any sense to me however I look at it. So, every year I find the answer through a very good source, pass it along to my patron, and promptly forget.

Where I live (Delaware), when winter approaches I end up going to work in the dark and by the time I return, it's, well, dark. So what is the relevance of changing from Daylight Savings to Standard Time? How does it apply to my life and to those around me?

It's mysterious, like a ritual performed for a long-ago and shadowy cause. There are so many other problems that are screaming for attention, like the current debate surrounding universal health care and the double digit unemployment figures, the unsolved wars and threats of new wars - domestic and abroad. When I recall this week's shootings in Orlando and Fort Hood, I shudder with worry, helpless as a bowl of Jello facing a tsunami. The whipped cream - the upcoming holiday season - doesn't stand a chance.

How does the U.S. measure our anger index? The strength of such an emotion is made evident in a variety of ways, from seething silence to loud destructive behaviors.

I recall President Obama's words while on the campaign trail:

One of the things I think the next president has to do is to stop fanning people's fears. If we spend all our time feeding the American people fear and conflict and division, then they become fearful and conflicted and divided. And if we feed them hope and we feed them reason and tolerance, then they will become tolerant and reasonable and hopeful. And that I think is one of the most important things that the next president can do, is try to bring us together, and stop trying to fan the flames of division that have become so standard in our politics in Washington.

— Barack Obama, You Tube

His message rang true and it fed the flames of hope in many of us. Fear is a short-term but effective way to control a nation. But where are we now? Why does my stomach still tense up when I face another month of bills and wonder if my and my family's health will hold on, our income will hold on, we need to hold on and get through this. It is a bleak time in America and I believe our complacency is wearing thin.

If only I could hibernate through the dark of our winter. Yes, a teasing and fleeting thought, but not this librarian's path.