Wake Me Up When September Ends

bye felicia

UGH.

You. Guys. What the hell has been up this month?

July and August were such pleasant, slow, and QUIET months. Then September hit, and all of a sudden it seemed everyone awoke from their daydreams and determined that EVERYTHING MUST BE ACCOMPLISHED BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR!!! Plus it looks like this is going to be one of those North Texas falls with torrential rain and damaging floods. Awesome.

I got pulled into that Chicken Little panic that I revile so much almost immediately, right of course, when I vowed to myself to be more detached and not let the small stuff (and it’s all small stuff) bother me. Ha ha, Universe, I guess I needed humbling. What a wonderful cosmic joke!

I think I’ve been especially susceptible to groupthink and anxiety and panic this year because of my lack of balance and healthy way of relieving stress. Taekwondo has not been much of a failsafe this year, and the structure I’d gotten used for the last five years was turned completely upside down. There have been other stressors professionally and personally this year not to mention the total and utter garbage state of my very divided country. And yeah, I’m gonna get petty for a second because this pisses me off too: I’ve gained back about half the the weight I lost last year (albeit the weight loss was due to an intestinal parasite)…although the taekwondo change has been the biggest and most noticeable stressor for me personally.

I realize in hindsight that I’ve been a lot quicker to anger, more reactive, and more prone to worry this year. I either haven’t been myself  because of the taekwondo thing, or what I fear more, my loss of built-in stress relief and balance has revealed who I’ve been beneath the surface this whole time. I don’t blame anyone in my taekwondo or professional worlds. My emotional reactions to everything whether they were big changes or mundane ideas were ultimately my choices.

It’s been a struggle that I probably haven’t done as well a job of hiding as I thought.

This month hasn’t been all bad, though. I got my first tattoo, which I love! I celebrated a friend’s book release. I made a difficult but very freeing decision that I think will relieve a great deal of the stress I’ve been feeling this year. I got through four weeks of busy project work and course facilitation without feeling too drained or grumpy although I’ve been drinking more wine this month. Personally I’m doing well and enjoying my quiet life in my nice little home.

But seriously, everyone….can we all just chill and calm the f–k down for two minutes? Why all the rushing and need to have our hands in everything? It’s time for eating Halloween candy and Thanksgiving stuffing, not running around like the proverbial headless chicken.

knew I’d have to go back to square one on this not worrying/letting go thing over and over until it stuck. This is one of those times. I’m going to keep trying. I owe it to myself and the people around me to get back some of that joy and ease I’d waited so long to attain and seemed to so quickly lose. I’ve fallen seven times, and I’m getting up eight.

And if all else fails there’s a place in town where I can pay to throw axes at targets. Seriously.

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Falling Out of Love Can Be a Slow, Sickening Process

forever over.jpgThe first time I entered the UT Southwestern medical school library for a class in my library science graduate program, I KNEW IN MY BONES that I wanted to be there. I wanted to work in a medical library, and I was on FIRE.

And I did. After an internship at that very library and a year-long stint at an oil company I landed a job in the medical library of one of the largest hospitals in my metropolitan area. It was my dream job…until it wasn’t. After several years I realized that I had to leave. There were a number of reasons beyond my desire to leave that job, and out of respect for the company I’ll keep those reasons private. As much as I KNEW I wanted to work at UT Southwestern I KNEW IN MY BONES that I had to quit this hospital library job.

It was a heartbreaking realization and a yearlong process to find another job. I told no one other than my parents of my deep dissatisfaction and desire to get out. It was difficult to suffer in silence and alternate between the nervousness of changing to a new environment and the dread of staying where I didn’t want to be any longer than I had to. I didn’t love or even like my job, or the library profession itself, any more. I wasn’t progressing, and I knew I would stagnate and regress if I stayed there. But what would I do if I left that job? I got a master’s degree in that field so I could land a job like that. As much as I want to eschew profession as part of one’s identity, that job was a part of who I was.

Luckily I landed a job within the same healthcare company in the training and development department. It wasn’t easy at first. There was a learning curve and poor management (those people are no longer with the company). I wondered more than once if I’d made the wrong decision. I had zero experience in org/leadership development, but I worked hard to learn and carve a space of my own in that department.

Fast forward nearly eight years later, and I don’t regret it at all. I’ve grown up in that job emotionally and professionally. I developed new talents and skills and have flourished. I’ve had more opportunities and more exposure in the organization, and it has proven to be MUCH more lucrative than staying in the library world. (Hint to companies–pay your young librarians more. Maybe they’ll stay longer.)

I tell this story to make my point that falling out of love is sometimes a slow process with aching, ever-growing clarity. I didn’t hate my old career or anyone involved. No one did anything wrong to me. It just wasn’t a fit anymore for who I was at that time or who I knew I had the potential to be.

And that’s how I feel about my taekwondo school. I’m not in love anymore. I continue to go to class out of some lingering, dwindling sense of loyalty, identity, familiarity, and fear of political repercussions if I quit in a public way. I’m afraid to leave because of possible repercussions, but I am not growing. I’m bored. I don’t like the new location. My potential is stunted. I don’t see a “lucrative” future in terms of training and opportunities. There are other reasons for my dissatisfaction, but like my old job, I want to keep those reasons private out of respect for and privacy of the other people involved.

One could argue do we have to be “in love” with everything? No, of course not. A job is a job. We don’t have to all “follow our passions.” I like my job, but my main passion is paying off my mortgage. I don’t have to love taekwondo; it could just be an activity I do once in a while…but that’s not my history with it. I fell hard and fast. I was in deep.

I know this drastic change in my relationship to taekwondo has affected my mood and emotional waves this past year as I have withdrawn from my involvement in the school’s current version of itself. More often than not, I don’t look forward to going to class. I don’t care anymore. As a result (possibly), I get more stressed out and overwhelmed in general more quickly, and I’m on a shorter fuse. I let myself become more emotionally involved at work, which I detest because I’ve always enjoyed a relaxed sense of detachment from the more silly parts of the corporate world. I’ve lost a big part of my identity that has been such a positive force for the last several years.

I do have my moments of excitement and happiness. I enjoyed very much getting to lead a black belt test we held in April. I had a lot of fun with my fellow black belts and students this past week. Taking an old familiar taekwondo class and getting to wear my black belt and uniform is a lot different (and still more emotionally fulfilling) than the Body Combat class at the gym. Maybe I just need an extended break, like I took from work a few weeks ago…but I know that will just be a bandage over a larger, deeper problem.

But it’s just not the same. What we had for the last several years (our camaraderie, our shared goals, our school) is gone, and part of my challenge this year has been accepting that loss and finding the positive in what exists now. But do I have to accept it? Did I have to just accept that library job (and salary) and say, “Okay, this is my career for the next 30 years”? I’d like to think that I’m still a black belt and retain all the mental, physical (although that’s dwindling because my training is minimal), and emotional prowess that comes with it, no matter where I go or what I do in life. I’ll always be a black belt. But I might be a black belt without a home.

Make Yourself Miserable or Make the Most of It: When That Big Change Doesn’t Go Away

Choices

Last year I was on top of the world.

Due to some restructuring in my department at the end of 2016, I was sent to a different work location that is MUCH closer to home, a much more fun and lively environment, and I have a big office and garage parking. At the beginning of 2017 I quickly rekindled past work relationships and built new ones, and I created a presence in my new domain. I couldn’t wait to get to work every day.

Meanwhile in taekwondo I was going to the dojang 5-6 days a week. Some of those hours were spent training in my own upper ranking classes, and other hours were spent helping my Master teach lower ranking classes. We had a little clique of black belts that cracked each other up with jokes and worked together well as a team when it was time to lead in class or coach our students at tournaments. I couldn’t wait to get to taekwondo every day, plus I had my second dan test to look forward to at the end of 2017.

2018…not so much.

This year started out as a big ball of stress: During January I was filling in for the lead facilitator at new employee orientation, which my department hosts every week for 80-100 people. I had been specifically chosen for this task because I was so well regarded as a speaker even though I am extremely introverted. I don’t know where that talent comes from. Black belt mojo I guess. [insert eyeroll here] While it was fun and somewhat fulfilling, it was utterly exhausting. I didn’t like giving up my Monday every week. I didn’t like having to be “on stage” and deplete all my energy.

In addition to orientation I was quickly being pulled into other time-consuming work projects plus learning that expectations of myself and my team had changed as well as the direction of our work. I didn’t like some of that change. While I’m financially comfortable and really do enjoy my job most of the time, I was starting to feel stuck. I don’t want to do training anymore even though apparently I’m pretty good at it. I want to shift to coaching and writing and have more quiet time. I do have those opportunities on a small scale in my current role, but my “talent” as a facilitator will be tapped into more often this year and the next. I haven’t left due to some sense of loyalty and fear of certain consequences (namely, not having income).

Meanwhile in taekwondo we went through a MAJOR shift that took up a lot of physical and emotional energy. We were moving from our dojang to a community center at the beginning of this year. Every day for the first week or two in January I worked all day and then spent hours at the dojang with other students and family members helping to pack up and store items from the school. I took it upon myself to text parents daily about changing class schedules. I was micromanaging the process, and I wore myself out. I didn’t like this change.

Now we have class twice a week in a new, more ascetic location, and lately I’ve felt pretty unmotivated to go. I’m tired of teaching and want more “quiet time” just spent training. As much as I care about my students, I dread having to spend 12-14 hours at another tournament. I want to shift from being “on stage” so much to training in earnest for my third degree and possibly competing in forms and breaking at tournaments. I don’t see those opportunities on the near horizon in my current situation. Once again I began to feel stuck due to some sense of loyalty and fear of certain consequences.

By May and June the stress was starting to subside although as I said earlier,  I’m not thrilled with my current situation. I had been free of new employee orientation by the end of February. I had gotten into a more comfortable and organized groove at work (and more accepting of certain changes), and I found fitness activities to substitute the time I no longer spend in taekwondo class. Am I as ecstatic as I was last year? Nope. Do I have my moments of thoroughly enjoying where I am right now. Yes. A few breaks from the routine have been helpful, too.

It helps to remember that even though I feel “stuck” right now I always have choices. I have the choice to leave as much as I have the choice to stay. More importantly, I have a choice about my mindset. I can choose to be miserable, or I can choose to make the most of it. Usually when I make the latter choice things have a way of working out even better than I could have planned.

It also helps to have those refreshing moments that remind me that things aren’t so bad. This past week I taught a communication workshop to a group of enthused, fun, hard-working adult learners. Later I spent that evening sparring with some of my taekwondo students and teaching new black belts how to referee. Even though I’ve been telling myself over and over that I’m tired of where I am, I have to admit I had a pretty good time. I still love helping people learn, although for me it may take a different form in a few years. I made the most of it rather than wishing I were somewhere else.

For now I’m staying where I am and focusing on what I like about my status quo rather than ruminating on what I don’t like.

Here are some things we can all do when we feel stuck in a less-than-desireable situation:

  • CHOOSE how you feel. No one can control your emotions and reactions except you.
  • Accept what you can. My status quo might be…well…the status quo for a while so it won’t do me or the people dependent on me to fight it.
  • Look for the positive. It’s in there somewhere.
  • Plan when you can. Just because you are in a particular situation you don’t like doesn’t mean you can’t work on your exit (or change) strategy.
  • “Don’t borrow trouble from the future.” I heard this advice from a man in the course I recently taught. He warned against getting caught up in all the “what ifs” that can distract us from the real life that is happening NOW. That phrase is golden.
  • Focus on what feels good.
  • Make the most of it and remember, another change is inevitably coming.

Guest Writer: How to Reduce Stress at Work

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Work can be stressful although it doesn’t have to be. Even black belts can’t be super calm and relaxed at work all the time. Once in a while I sneak in a little taekwondo practice in my office (yes I’ve done a spin kick in a dress). Other times I look for more traditional ways to bring a sense of calm to my workday.

I found these tips from the blog at ClickTime helpful and great reminders of simple things we can do to reduce workplace stress:
How to Reduce Stress at Work: 12 Strategies to Handle Stressful Careers

 

 

How Martial Arts Can Help You Succeed in the Working World

meditating-at-desk

It’s either this or punch a hole through the monitor.

I’ve been in the corporate world for roughly 15 years, and much of that time has been spent in healthcare. Taekwondo has been a major influence in how I carry myself, how I handle stress, how I communicate, and how I prioritize.

You don’t need to be in martial arts to reap its benefits and kick ass at work because I’ve done the work for you! I’ve compiled a list of articles that can help you successfully handle the ups, downs, challenges, and changes of the working world. Enjoy!

Communication and Teamwork
Learning to Be Human
How Punching People Made Me More Empathetic
Teaching Means You’re Learning for Two
How I Would Teach a Taekwondo Class: a Parody

Change
The Poomsae Series: Koryo, or, Managing Change Like a Black Belt
Closed Door, Open Window: How Adversity Can Hone Adaptability
Can We Pause for a Change?
What’s Your Span of Control? The Answer May Surprise You!

Conflict and Stress
Sparring Multiple Partners
Guest Post: How Martial Arts Can Help Reduce Work-Related Stress
When Life Takes a Swing at You
Don’t Be So Defensive—Unless Somebody is Trying to Punch You in the Face

Leadership
To Lead or Not to Lead
What I’ve Learned from Coaching Children and Business Leaders
True North
The Jyo Kyo Neem’s On You: First Days as a Black Belt

Prioritization
It’s All Cookies and Crackers
In Defense of Complacency
Defending Your Work-Life Balance
Why I Chose to Pursue a Black Belt Instead of a PhD

In Defense of Complacency: When Good Enough Is Good Enough

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Good enough. Let’s move on!

In new employee orientation at my workplace we play this video with alarming statistics of what could go wrong when 99.9% is “good enough.” Newspapers are missing front pages, shoes are shipped in mismatched pairs, newborns go home from the hospital with the wrong parents, planes crash…you know, fun uplifting stuff. We ask the new employees their opinion and of course they say, no, 99.9% is not acceptable. I work for a healthcare organization, so understandably excellence, use of best practices, and an aim for zero mistakes has a heightened sense of urgency.

(This is the part where I lean in conspiratorially)

…Caring for hospital patients and landing planes aside…Don’t you think there are times when good enough is good enough? Right now you want to say, “No, that’s not true! We should always strive for perfection! We have to always try our absolute best!” But I also know you’re fighting the urge to admit that I’m right…just a little bit, at least in certain circumstances. Ladies and gentlemen, I now take the role of the little devil on your shoulder and will present my argument for why complacency is sometimes the best approach, or why good enough is indeed, good enough.

There are times in taekwondo class that I do revel in the mechanical minutiae and the persistent pursuit of perfection, most often in forms. Forms are my moving meditation and give me the chance to really immerse myself into my practice. Whenever I’m leading a group of students through their form I encourage them to try just one little thing differently the next time they do it. That staves off the boredom that can accompany repetition (I remember those seemingly endless form practices as a child). Compared to fast-paced sparring, practicing forms is a downright luxurious, dare I say decadent (and delicious) deep dive into technique.

And then there’s sparring. I don’t have time to worry about the minutiae during a fight. Hopefully all my training outside of sparring have programmed certain skills, minutiae and all, into my body so it reacts subconsciously anyway. I try my best in each fight, but I don’t necessarily do my best. I’m okay with that. As long as I’m defending myself effectively (for the most part), getting in a few good hits on my opponent (for the most part), and most importantly having fun, that’s good enough for me.

And then there’s jump spin kick…and 360 roundhouse (tornado kick)…and 540 spin kick….yeah, y’all gettin’ good enough from me and that’s it. I’d like to think a sign of maturity is not only a healthy awareness of one’s strengths but also of one’s limitations. I’m petite, pushing forty years old, and have a messed up back, hips, and right hamstring. I push myself hard during workouts, but I’m also well aware of my physical limitations. With these types of complicated airborne kicks I just think, “F-ck it,” do my best, and put my energy into activities I can master with both feet on the ground. The kids can jump all they want, and I enjoy watching them fly around in the air. I’d rather play with knives, hand strikes, our hapkido-inspired self-defense techniques, and my trusty forms. Good enough for me.

The question is, “What’s the best use of my energy and my time?”

I naturally do better and more effortlessly reach that 100% of excellence when I’m doing something I enjoy, I feel confident, and I’m being creative. I can get that 100% with things that are more difficult or less enjoyable if I approach things piece by piece, rather than take on the entire burden at once. And sometimes I just call it good enough and move on.

Sometimes it’s okay to accept “good enough.” When time is limited or resources or limited (or capabilities are limited), it’s perfectly fine to give your best version of good enough and move on. That’s a smarter and healthier approach than running yourself into the ground trying to do something that for you is too frustrating, too difficult to be worth the trouble, or infringes on more important priorities. If you’re running in circles, trapped in analysis paralysis, going down a rabbit hole, or in the throes of any other metaphor I see way too often in the corporate world all in the pursuit of absolute perfection I suggest you stop wasting your time, stop stressing yourself out, and accept “good enough.”

Perhaps there’s a fine line between giving your all and picking and choosing your battles. One of my coaching clients compares his approach to his career development and his work as hospital leader to how he approaches woodworking, his favorite hobby.

“I want to make sure I get the measurement just right before I put the pieces together,” he told me. “If you’re careless and you cut a piece too short then it’s too late. You can’t put the piece of wood back together.” I suppose that’s true for major decisions about his career or choices he must make that would have a major impact on employees and patients….but there are other times when you can just slap shit together and call it done.

Complacency, at least in the context of this article, is not giving up. Perhaps a better word would be “Contentment.” You do what you can, and at the same time you also let go and accept what is.

And that’s good enough for me.

It’s All Cookies and Crackers (or, Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff)

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I’ll take them with peanut butter please! ALL the peanut butter!

One of my coworkers used to work for Keebler. When people would get all bent out of shape over not-so-significant things as people are wont to do in the corporate world, she would remind them, “Guys, we make cookies and crackers. That’s it.” That was her reminder to them that they were not dealing with life or death situations, regardless of how big (or expensive) the problem seemingly  was.

Working in healthcare for over a decade has helped me develop somewhat of the same perspective. I’ve always been in a non-clinical supportive role–first as a hospital librarian, then as a consultant in the learning and development department. My years at the hospital reminded me that whatever we were worrying about in my department ultimately wasn’t that big of a deal. We could leave what we were doing at 5pm and forget about it. It wasn’t brain surgery or fighting cancer or running the emergency department. I work with people who do that and leave the life-saving to them. No one ever died because of a so-so team building session…at least I hope not!

Taekwondo has also given me a great perspective too. I had a two-and-a-half hour team meeting yesterday. We are dealing with a number of stressful situations, and emotions are high. We’re trying to stick together, but it’s easy to ruffle feathers when everyone’s a little on edge. I was able to quickly put it out of my mind because I had other things to worry about–namely, filling in for my instructor for three back-to-back taekwondo classes. Luckily I had some good black belt partners to tag-team with me, and I think we did a good job. The best part was how much fun we had. Do you think I really cared about a PowerPoint presentation when I was busy chasing around two teenage boys and yelling directions at them during a sparring match? Nothing else really matters when you’re trying to not fall over or get hit in the face.

“It’s all cookies and crackers” has become one of our favorite catchphrases around the office. We’re doing good things, important things, but ultimately, we’re not doing anything worth losing sleep over. As I said in my more recent and more nihilistic post, nothing really matters–not really, not in the grand scheme of things. “Cookies and crackers” is also a reminder to myself to just enjoy life and not worry about it being perfect or working out to the outcome I expect or demand. It will all work out as soon as I release my vise-like death grip on it. Usually when I let go things work out even better than I could have imagined.

And yet, here I find myself stress-eating gummy bears and drinking hastily chilled Chardonnay over–in the big scheme of things–a really insignificant and dumb work-related issue. It’s not even worth explaining, but it’s left me upset, embarrassed, and worried that someone’s feelings were hurt. Of course no one else thinks it’s a big deal, and I’ve already been reassured as much by a few trusted people. I know it won’t matter in six months. It won’t even matter in six days. It won’t even matter in six hours.

I’m not sure what bothers me more–this tiny, stupid little incident that I’m already starting to forget or the fact that my detached, too-cool-for-school attitude towards work had a weak spot. I don’t mean I’m detached in the sense that I don’t care. I really like my job. It’s fun, fulfilling, and I’m good at it. I’m just less emotionally attached to work than I am to other aspects of my life. I think it’s a healthy outlook to have and one I wish I could apply to things in my personal life that get under my skin (and insecurities) much faster.

But it’s true…it’s all just cookies and crackers, even the things that I think are a big deal. The failed relationships I agonized over–cookies and crackers. The current struggles I’m having around body image and food control and weight–cookies and crackers, no pun intended. Annoying or upsetting things that happen at work–cookies and crackers. I’m sure our upcoming taekwondo tournament will be filled with stressful incidents–cookies and crackers too. None of this bullshit is worth losing sleep over although I will have to remind myself of that every time I obsessively weigh myself or get angry at a referee’s decision or if I ever decide to date again. Cookies and crackers, all of it.

The moral of the story: Just have fun, try to be nice to people, and especially be nice to yourself. At then end of all of this I’m still me, and I’m awesome whether I succeed or fail. So are you.