We Have a Guest!

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I'm excited to say that we have a guest writer here at Grow a Career!  Her name is Laura Herren.  She is in her early twenties and has a fresh and insightful perspective on a topic we all grapple with:  striving for excellence for its own sake, rather than measuring success by credentials.  I couldn't be any more thrilled to have her as a guest writer.  And, if I'm lucky, maybe she'll be back.

Enjoy!
-Katie

"Journey to Excellence"

Whatever excellence may mean to you, the world will ultimately measure your worth in credentials.  Those experiences that you have had that were not adorned with grades, certificates, awards, or any other honors will go largely unnoted.  It is unfortunate that this is so.  Unfortunate because the recognition itself can act as motivation, because it muddles the true significance of the work, and because there are many ways to excel for which awards do not exist.  For all of these reasons, you must forget whatever honors may be waiting for you at your goal’s end, and remember why your work is important to you.  At the end of the day, what means more to you: the trophy or the knowledge you have gained?
    An individual may choose to journey down a path because they are attracted to the prestigious recognition that lies at the end of that path.  In this way, the work becomes a means to an end, detracting from the value and enjoyment one can find in the work itself.  One may ask, What does it matter if people buy into these honors if the end result is the same?  To this question, I reply with a quote from Richard Feynman, one of the most brilliant physicists of the 20th century.  In 1981, he was interviewed in a BBC special entitled The Pleasure of Finding Things Out.  About his Nobel Prize, he replies:

I don't see that it makes any point that someone in the Swedish Academy decides that this work is noble enough to receive a prize. I've already got the prize. The prize is the pleasure of finding the thing out, the kick in the discovery, the observation that other people use it - those are the real things, the honors are unreal to me.

    By creating a system of honors, we have defined exactly what merits recognition and what does not.  Our confidence in this system is arrogant and it becomes evident when we assume that those endeavors that receive no honors are less worthy than those that do.  A single mother may, against all obstacles, raise her children with the education, opportunities, attention, and guidance that would normally be provided by two parents.  She will not receive an award or even an A+, but only the knowledge that she has cared for her children to the best of her ability.  I have received a good number of awards and recognition over the past four years, but I am certain that I have never worked as hard as someone with the job of two parents, nor have I ever provided the world with something as consequential as another human life.
    What drives me to do my best work?  There is the desire to please my parents, which often means bringing home good grades or awards, but also being aware of what I’m doing: would I let them down if they knew this?  I would like to say that what drives my research is the quest for knowledge, which I suppose it is in a broad sense, but the gratification is really much more instant than that.  To design an experiment is a titillating process: I must use everything that I understand about nature and consider especially what I do not.  When the results come, a euphoric high follows when my hypothesis is confirmed, while a bittersweet amazement follows each time nature foils my plans and shows me how it’s really done.  Finally, my most constant drive is the ticking in the back of my mind that reminds me of the limited time I have in this body with this consciousness.  It reminds me to relish each moment of the journey, because if all that matters is the awards that I have accumulated, then I have wasted an awful lot of time.
    The sum of your achievements is not what defines you.  What a misleading word “achievement” is!  To think that one has ever truly mastered or completed one’s undertaking is foolish.  There will always be more questions to explore, and this is the beauty of pursuing excellence: you are never really done. Excellence is not the pat on the back that you receive at certain points along your journey - it is the journey.

How I Stepped in It Big Time

 

research.ibm.com

Wondering what I mean by "it?"

Okay, just imagine you are a city girl going to the country for the first time in your fancy Jimmy Choo stilettos and you decide it would be cool to prance around in a bucolic pasture of ginormous cows.  (You aren't a very smart city girl, apparently.)  And the next thing you know, as you pirouette your way past Bessie grazing blissfully on a mouthful of grass, you have landed in a big ol' pile of...

You see where I'm going with this, right?

So anyway, I stepped in a very big pile when I replied "yes" to an email requesting unit leaders for my daughter's day camp.

I thought, how bad could it be?  Just take the little gals from group activity to group activity, bond with my daughter and no problemo.

Problemo was, that doesn't begin to describe what the job actually entailed.  How did I fail to know this?  Because I failed to ask, "what does that entail?"  The only thoughts going through my mind were emotional, not factual: daughter, bonding experience, they neeeeeed me, blah blah blah.  If you'll recall I'm an ENFP, so my go-to decision-making uses the Feeling Preference, which means my heart can override my brain when left unattended.

As you can probably gather, Ol' Feeling was left unattended.  I'd already committed myself before asking about the details and facts of the situation.  I quickly discovered that the volunteer position actually entailed about 40 hours of prep and planning, on top of the 40 hours spent actually at the camp.  Oh, that and the fact that 24 girls were in each unit, and there were 200 total in the camp.  Woooaaa Bessie!

If only I'd bothered to ask about the details of the day-to-day requirements (for example, that I'd have to plan 36 hours of curriculum for six to eight year olds in rain or shine weather,) my decision would have at least been well-informed.  Had I known the enormous time commitment I would never have signed on, despite the pitiful cries from the leaders of the camp saying that our daughters couldn't have a camp without parent volunteers.  I would've just turned on the Thinking Side of my brain which would've said, "So what?  She misses out on a camp. No big deal, we'll go to the pool."

Now, on the other hand, and this is the second part of this post (hereafter entitled, "What I Learned From Camp") I'm kinda sorta glad I stepped in it.  I suppose the impulsive, bleeding heart, sucker-born-every-minute Feeling Side of me didn't do such a terrible job.  First of all, I ended up being able to learn more about my daughter, what engages her and what she is capable of.  I never would've really known had I not been in the trenches.  (And, Baby, was I in the trenches!) I can really appreciate how well-behaved and talented she really is.  I think I take that for granted sometimes.

Secondly, I met an incredibly interesting and inventive guy, a former marine, that can make almost anything out of, well, almost anything.  He was my co-leader who also became my saving grace.  He and I forged through the week battling not only some whiny hiny kids and a completely disorganized camp infrastructure, but also the blazing sun, humidity, mosquitoes, threats of thunderstorms, and a bathroom full of wasps.


Despite these obstacles we succeeded in creating a really great curriculum.  We climbed a fort, visited horse stables, learned about cumulus clouds, weather patterns, butterflies, lightning and tornadoes.  We made some kick-ass volcanoes, silly putty, ice cream, compasses, and, for the grand finale, we performed a musical review complete with glitter laden props.


(Do you really think I could get through a week at camp without incorporating glitter?  Or putting on some sort of musical spectacle?)



Collaborate and Survive

My co-leader and I couldn't be any more different in personality but we both share a determination to make the best out of any situation.  Best of all, we both possess a strong affinity for sarcasm and irreverent humor, which is probably why we can make the best out of any situation.  Instead of wallowing in camp hell (which was the first day) we managed to combine our talents and teach the girls creativity, friendship, coping skills, manners, animals, pioneering, flag folding, music, science, weather, theatre, and grace-under-fire.

My co-leader made it a special point to use his big old army knife for pretty much everything.  (They're quite versatile I discovered.  I'd get one if I thought I could keep all of my fingers.)  I made it a special point to teach the rules of engagement, of course.  I could tell there were some girls well on their way to becoming the future BMW's of the adult work world.  So why not at least try to pre-empt it?  We saw some major improvement over the week.  It felt good to make a positive difference in young lives.

In retrospect, I realize I paid a small price (80 hours of my time and some income) for committing to something before asking for clarifications.  And yes, it all worked out splendidly in the end.  But compare that to a a much bigger conundrum:  when we embark on a career path such as one that includes grad school without doing much research.  Talk about a huge price to pay!  We waste gargantuan amounts of time, money, and mental well-being when we jump into career path without gaining insight into what that career path entails.  Sure, trial and error plays a big part in discovering a path that fits, but a lot of the error is totally unnecessary. Just talk to anyone who has stepped in to a law career that sucks the soul out of them.  They wish they'd done a bit more research before going to law school in the first place.

This week's experiences also remind me of the challenges my clients face as they leap into new careers:  adversity, fatigue (because nobody has loads of free time to work on career transitioning without losing some sleep,) doubt, frustration when hitting obstacles, you name it....  Yet these same people are no less than heroes when they come out transformed, emboldened and on a mission to take ownership of their lives.  Whether they are creating their own paths or jumping into a new company from scratch, they are taking risks.  But it's worth the self-doubt and confusion, because in the end change has happened.  Heroes are all about facing the unknown, and, in turn, change.  Without it where would we be?

(Still rubbing stones together to make a fire and muttering incoherently to each other I suppose.)

I don't know if I'll embark on this camping adventure next year.  We'll see about that.  But I do know that I've really grown this past week.  So I guess I should pat myself on the back for that...

And I'm thinking that pat on the back will be in the form of a manicure and pedicure.  My nails are pretty much camped out.

Crapshooting My Way Through

Here's my Important Question for the Day:

What's the difference between a crapshoot and parenting?

Answer:  At least with craps you have a chance of winning.

(For those of you who don't have kids, don't I make it sound enticing?) 

Becoming a parent has been the most humbling path I've ever taken, always presenting me with new opportunities for self-doubt and flagellation.   Fresh from a career in acting (talk about self-doubt and flagellation!) I never had extra self-esteem lying around to begin with, so now my confidence level (as far as parenting is concerned- in all other areas it's great) frequently scrapes the bottom of the barrel.   I constantly wonder if I'm being too soft, too hard, too lenient, too strict, too doting, too hands-off, over or under nurturing, and so forth.  What if I do the wrong thing?  Say the wrong thing?  Will they resent me for it later on?  I can just hear my daughter, at age 30, saying to me, "remember when you made me eat vegetables?  Now I have a life threatening phobia of eggplant for which I'm in psychotherapy seven days a week!  Thanks for the memories, Mom!"

Oh, the pressure.

However, I will consent that there are some things that I, as a parent, can get right without sending my children into therapy by age ten and which I will never regret.  One of them is telling them I love them (because I do, like crazy,) and another is teaching them the rules of engagement.  If you'll recall from my former post, these rules dictate that adults must assume responsibility for knowing what engages their talents.  And, hopefully, if all goes well, my kids will make it to adulthood in one piece and might just become responsible to boot. 

Moreover, along this road to maturity, they'll need to learn how to recognize what their brains need to do to function successfully.  They'll need to detect what motivates them, what mentally drains them, and what makes them lose track of time they're having so much fun.  So my goal?   To give them the tools and the opportunities to do so.

This is easier said than done, of course.  For, along with trying desperately to get them to like more than chicken nuggets,  I find that it's difficult to navigate the complexities of innate preference versus a reticence to try new things. My daughter, for one, is an innate perfectionist (the apple falleth not far from the tree) and getting her to try an activity that she can't perfect right away is like pulling teeth from a lion.  I dance a soft shoe when it comes to letting her discover, on her own, the joys of imperfection vs. nudging her to try something she is hesitant to try. 

On the other hand, my son, who is only two, has less fear of trying something new.  (Even at age two my daughter had reservations about performing unknown tasks.)  But my little guy seems to have no inhibitions about launching himself from the top of the couch to the floor, for example, or taking a new bike out for a spin, or climbing to the highest point in any room.  Is this a boy thing?  Probably, but it's still a clue about who he is.  And I've already determined that he is a monkey.  A monkey who is really good at doing puzzles.  (I'm really good at this stuff, aren't I?)

Here are some more clues I look for in the "what are they drawn to do?" category:

What excites them?  What gets them fired up?  (Besides sugar.)  

What makes them laugh?  


Where do they enjoy going?  What do they like to do when there?  For instance, do they like to put things in their place when we go to the toy store or do they like to combine things and form combinations with different toys?  My daughter likes to bring together many different little toys and make them form deep, lasting relationships with each other by the time we leave.  My son likes to make sure every car or machine can make a vrrroommmm sound, go fast, and then make sure they play together. 


How do they wind down and then get recharged?  Reading books?  Riding on a bike?  Playing ball?  Being around people?


How do they relate to their classmates?  Are they more independent or do they play with one or two kids or five or six all at once?  


Do they prefer team sports or individual pursuits?  Or perhaps no sports at all?


What do they enjoy creating? Performing?  Conquering? 


How much competition do they enjoy?

Getting answers to the above questions allows me and my husband to foster these proclivities.  We sign them up for what we can based on what they might enjoy.  And we throw in some curve balls just because.  Last year my daughter said she wanted to play soccer so of course we said, "sure!"  She mostly braided her hair the whole time the ball was whizzing by, but that's okay.  Maybe next year she'll move to braiding everyone else's hair.

This, to me, is the fun part of parenting.  I love watching them develop into little people who will then become big people with fully expressed talents and preferences and interests.  I know that I will look back and wish that I could've done certain things differently, but at least I can say that I was paying attention to what they wanted for themselves, not just what I wanted for them.  And that makes me feel like I might not lose completely.

The Universal Appeal... of My Purse

Yes, it's really come to this:  my purse as a metaphor for career design.

But stay with me here, because I need to tell you how my gloriously-designed handbag truly embodies everything good and holy about what I do for a living.

The visceral reactions this purse elicits demonstrate how close we can get to universally appealing design, whether it's careers or handbags.  Everyone compliments me on this fine specimen of a purse, a gift from my fashion-savvy sister.  (And yes, this is the same one that wore questionable outfits as child.)  I must have received at least a compliment or two per day for the past eight months. As you can see from the above photo, this fabulous purse, who I will hereafter refer to as "Rosie" - because "purse" doesn't quite do it- possesses shine, vivid color, texture, three dimensionality, and that je ne sais quois which attracts quite a following.

No, as I've sworn to countless individuals, it's not a Valentino, which, I'm told, prices out in the thousands.  (Little Sis' loves me, but not that much.)  Still, I get compliments from such a wide range of people it's uncanny.  Rosie has elicited glorious responses from people of all walks of life, male and female, young and old alike.  The words "Nice bag!!" have come from artists, interior designers, burly men putting out veggies in the produce department, a refined jewelry store owner in the Hamptons, security agents at the airport, pharmacists, librarians, octogenarians, gas station attendants, teenagers, boys and girls ages three on up... (the little ones just HAVE to touch it!)

So what does this have to do with careers and design?  Good design grabs people's attention.  An when you design a career around what energizes you, you'll noticed others are energized by it too.  You will gradually receive tremendous positive feedback from all types of people.  Even if certain people are not necessarily inclined to hire you, buy your product or use your service, they ultimately respect what you are doing and will tell others who ARE in the market for your talents.  When others recognize your unique and fantastic offering, they feel compelled to share with others your skill, talent or product.
 
On the reverse side, trying to please everyone misses the point, as everyone knows but tries to do it anyway. Universal design appeal comes from the career designer first discovering his or her own unique voice, and then finding or creating a need for this voice to be heard.  Design a career path this way and see how abundance finds you.

Now Rosie and I shall be off to the supermarket, where I'm sure she'll turn some heads yet again.

Clashing.. Lots of Clashing

When it comes to weather reports, springtime packs in some real doozies.

A bit of a weather.com junkie, I happened upon the following text a few weeks ago:

"Air masses clash as spring tries to take control while winter does its best to fend off spring's advances. It's that clash of air masses which lead to the development of storm systems across the country.  What is the result?  A little bit of winter (snow) and a little bit of spring (thunderstorms)."

Kinda cool, huh? 

Well, if you don't think it's cool, you are not allowed to be in the weather.com junkie club.

(Note: I'm sure this exclusion causes you much angst and consternation.)

Clashes happen all around us.  At work, at home, at school....  I really like the word, "clash," I suppose,  not only because it sounds utterly dramatic, it's also quite versatile.  It can indicate a fight between two or more individuals, a weather system collision or, in the context of clothing AND weather, outfits that clash louder than thunder.  For example, you should have seen the get-ups my little sister used to wear.  Talk about doozies!  She was lucky we were in the 70's, when self-expression was en vogue.

I've found that working identities, or non-working, as the case may be, can clash as well.  They often resemble the push pull of the weather:  an old career identity tries hard to prevent the new identity from coming in.  It doesn't want to disappear, as well it shouldn't.  After all, an identity is all about being itself and not someone or something else.

During my lifetime I have survived many identity clashes.  Below I describe the good, the bad, and the downright ugly:


1.  Corporate Identity

When I was in my early 20's, the need to live up to other peoples' expectations still dictated many of my decisions.  I had to make my family proud, show my friends my worth, both financially and as a competent human being.  I had to show everyone how strong and capable I was by going after whatever I felt was worth having.  I took the most ambitious, well-paid corporate job I could get right out of college.  I didn't know who I was or what I wanted or what I was really good at doing, but at least someone had given me an identity to hang on to, in the form of a job title and a paycheck.

As the years went by I began to realize that my corporate identity was essentially a hat that I was trying to wear for my portrayal of "a successful business woman."  (Sounds like a bit part in a movie, doesn't it?)  Oh, and I also figured out that no one but me truly cared what I did for a career.  I was the one spending 60 hours a week doing something that didn't engage me at all, not my parents, not my friends, not anyone I'd tried to impress in the first place.

With a new found freedom from societal expectations, I thought I'd go completely 360 and try doing something I knew would engage me more than the corporate world:  the theatre.  I'd always acted on the side, so, with my student loans paid off, I decided to give the exciting world of performing art a try.

2.  Artistic Identity 

Once I got out of the business world and into the artistic world I realized that I was starting from scratch.  Yes, the environment was more up my alley;  however, I had no prior acting experience other than community theatre.  So here I was, someone who used to earn a lot of money and respect, now answering phones at a small theatre company in the middle of nowhere.  (And did I mention that I commuted over an hour each way to do this job?)  My identity here was definitely in-the-making:  I wasn't even considered a professional actress yet, just a receptionist who was trying to crack the acting market, figuring out how the acting scene worked.

A couple of years later I reached my coveted professional actor status, and therefore grew into a new working identity.  Still, I had to go back and forth between performing at top theatres at night and on the weekends while answering phones and filing during the day.  At least some of the time I felt true to my working identity.

3. Maternal Identity

I struggled harder with this identity clash even more than going from #1 to #2.  I loved my newborn baby and being her mommy, but I really didn't like (and I actually still don't) being called "a mom."  All of a sudden people would come up to me and say, "Hey there, Mom!  Looks like you've got your hands full there," or "Ewww, Mom, smells like a diaper needs to be changed."

I began to think, "Hmmm... just a few weeks ago I believe I was a human being with a name."

Furthermore, I realized, for the first time, that I could not say that I did anything.  I didn't want to go back to acting because it wasn't conducive to having a newborn baby.  I had no idea what I was going to do except be a mom:  change diapers and whatever else new moms did.  I was just... me.  And what the heck did that mean?  The clashing titans were two polar opposite identities:  the actress me and the just-another-mom me.

If I'd had a stronger sense of self I don't think the "mom calling" would've really bothered me.  In fact, now that I have a much clearer understanding of my strengths, a career path I enjoy (see #4) and, in turn, a stronger identity, I don't even notice when someone says "mom."  This comfort level can be attributed to the fact that time has allowed me to grow into this new identity;  however, having a nice variety of professional and personal goals largely contributes to my mental health.


4.  Professional/Personal Identity or Coming Full Circle

Although I can't say it's been devoid of doubt, growing pains and fear, having my own business while simultaneously taking care of two little ones has felt very natural and fulfilling.  Sure, I feel torn some times, but overall I couldn't ask for a better situation:  I have my own schedule, I love what I do, I can spend time with my children, husband and friends, and I can grow my business as slowly or as quickly as I'd like.  My life and my career complement each other, and I generally find a lot of overlap socially, which is immensely satisfying to me.

Furthermore, I have come full circle, meaning that I am using all of the experiences along my journey ( #'s 1-3.)  For my coaching practice, I use the business training and skills acquired in the corporate world along with the creative process I honed during my artistic life.  I use my experience with past career frustration to help others.  And, being the lifelong learner that I am, I am always educating myself both formally and on my own.

As for my child-rearing practice?  For that I get out the big guns: negotiating techniques from my sales and account management days and mindfulness meditation from my acting training.  And if those techniques fail, give me a margarita with salt.  Then I don't care who colored her bed purple or put Spider Man in the DVD player.  It's all cool...

Via Flikr

Besides, I can relax now that I've discovered I can just be myself, and that's really cool... almost aas cool as weather.com, but not quite.

How I Got My Self-Esteem Out of the Gutter

High School for me was anything but a walk in the park.  I looked and acted like a perfectly jovial person, but inside my self-worth was virtually non-existent.

For starters, I had a long term relationship with a guy that was a whiz kid.  In my eyes, he was absolutely brilliant.  Why?  Because he could immediately master mathematical equations and scientific concepts faster than I ever could. My brain simply wouldn't work that way.

Via Flickr

And yes, objectively speaking- not just in my girlfriend's-rose-colored opinion- he really was intelligent, especially by society's standards.  My high school years predated the recognition of emotional, social and artistic abilities as legitimate forms of intelligence;  therefore, when I was a teenager, most people measured intellectual ability in terms of scientific and mathematical prowess. I was one of those biased people.

Next to my boyfriend, I considered myself a complete moron intellectually. The fact that I could nimbly analyze literature and poetry, win foreign language awards, make A's in every subject (but that blasted Algebra II), sing the hell out of a difficult song, and deftly perform Shakespearean monologues didn't seem to register more than a one-out-of-ten on my self-esteem-o-meter.  These subjects and talents were "easy" things that I didn't believe counted on the intelligence front.

As for The Boyfriend?  We broke up.  He ended up going to Stanford and then, I am told, on to UCLA for his Ph.D. in Science (couldn't tell you in what field specifically.) I am sure he is out there somewhere continuing to live in his super smartdom.

And then there was the sports arena.  While I averaged B's in Algebra II, I was a D+ student (at best) in athletics.  This, of course, didn't win me any favors in sports-lovin' Indiana.  But in my mind I had to at least try to be great at everything lest I feel inadequate.  That meant, in addition to my academic and artistic pursuits, lettering in sports.   

olympushighemlyhoffman.wikispaces.com

Knowing my limited hand-eye coordination,  I went out for Track and Cheerleading, thinking I could at least do those sports.  Unfortunately, as far as Track was concerned, it soon became apparent I had no business running competitively. On one level I ignored that discovery and pushed myself anyway.

Now, you may be thinking, isn't the act of pushing yourself beneficial, even you aren't good at something?  Of course it is.  Problem was, I chastised myself whenever I didn't do well, which was pretty much all the time.  Now, looking back, I think, "Of course you didn't do well!  You are not naturally fast, your legs are short, and, genetically speaking, there is nothing that would make you a good runner!"  But logical thinking requires a healthy dose of self-esteem, so I was pretty much S.O.L. there.

And the cheerleading?  Well, let's just say I didn't quite master the whole teamwork idea.  I vaguely remember there was a point where I was doing my infamous chipmunk impressions at the request of the cheering section.

Via Flickr, but those were our school colors!

Now, seriously, what was I thinking?  Besides acting like a chipmunk in public, a rather absurd notion in itself, wasn't I there to cheer on the football team?  Couldn't I just do the routines like the rest of the cheerleading squad?  But noooooo, there I went, drumming my own little drum, not grasping the notion that not only was I a different drummer, but also that cheerleading wasn't really a good different drummer type of activity.

So how did my phoenix rise out of the self-esteem ashes?  The answer is, simply:  it took time, hard work and a bit of luck.

In my twenties my self-worth did improve with effort, but something always seemed to set me back.  First of all, trying to make it in the tumultuous world of the theatre didn't quite help matters.  So up until age thirty, I'd say, the self-esteem-o-meter hovered precariously around a four.  But then, once I hit 30, things started to improve.  My maturation level enabled me to naturally become more comfortable in my own skin.  Even so I really didn't understand how intelligent, gifted and remarkable I was as a human being until I reached age 34.

That was the year I had my daughter, my first child, and I realized pretty quickly that I needed to have a substantial amount of emotional strength to devote to parenting.  I knew I didn't have the time or energy to deal with low self-esteem and the havoc it wrought on my life.  And besides, life is too short not to have your you-know-what together.

Just by luck, I stumbled upon a seminar taught by a local career coach.  When I listened to his presentation I knew immediately I'd come to the right place.  I ended up signing on with that career coach who then introduced me to the idea of preferences and abilities, unlike any other individual or academic institution ever had.  For the first time in my life I had a non-emotional, objective way of looking at my mind, my talents, and my preferences.  I could finally look at my strengths and weaknesses in a non-judgmental way.  I also began to recognize the intelligence and gifts in all people, not just those labeled as "smart" or "talented" or successful" in our society.


Of course, there were still some major cognitive-behavioral issues that I had to conquer.  Take negative self-talk for one.  It's like a pit-bull that grabs a hold of you and refuses to let go.  (I should know, I used to have one, God Rest Her Soul.)  And to this day I must continually be mindful of shutting down negative thoughts and letting my mistakes and weaknesses go.

Furthermore, there are lots of questions I still have to ask myself and boundaries I have to test.  But I'm exponentially better at sorting and answering these questions and boundaries than I used to be.  I am also much better at:

1) Living with uncertainty
2) Creating opportunities for myself
3) Tailoring my commitments to my strengths and weaknesses
4) Sharing my talents with confidence
5) Making things happen for myself instead of waiting for fate to tell me what all's in store for the future.

And as far as my self-esteem-o-meter?  It's registering at a 9.5, which means that while there's always room for improvement, I can live well.  I'm no longer a slave to happenstance and mood.  And honestly, certain circumstances still set my confidence back momentarily to maybe a six, but never to a zero anymore.

What else can I ask for?  I worked hard to be where I am, and so can you.  Consider getting the help you need instead of trying to do it on your own.  The investment of time and money will be well worth it.

Preferences... Because I'm Worth It... and So Are You.

I will always remember watching those old commercials for Preference by L'Oreal. Meredith Baxter Birney would would shake her gorgeous golden mane for the camera and say, "Preference.  By L'Oreal. (Shake hair, look back at camera.) Because I'm worth it."  And I would think, as a little girl, "Wooow!... I wish my hair could look like that."

Now my brunette locks do indeed look commercial-ready... at least on the day I go to my favorite hair designer, Pari Payravi, owner of Silhouette.  I relish those days I leave the salon feeling like a million bucks for not-so-many-bucks! 

Which brings me to the point of this post:  preferences.  What are yours?

It really helps to write them down.  It makes you feel happy, and "worth it."  Because come on, be honest.   Don't you kind of like feeling happy?  Even you cynics out there?

Also try writing down what you don't prefer, which, of course, is easier homework for the cynics.  Doing this exercise reminds you of what to incorporate into your life and what to stay away from... because I think we forget sometimes.  It's also nice to refer to your list whenever you need a boost of energy or a reminder of why something isn't working for you.  

So here are my likes and dislikes, in no particular order, that I thought I'd share with you.  You'll see this is quite an eclectic list, but then, I'm a pretty eclectic kind of gal:

Preferences:

1. Golden Retrievers.  These precious angels make wonderful pets.  They are like people but furry, soft and cuddly, not to mention extremely loyal and loving.  Goats follow closely behind, but I really don't know enough about them to put them at the top of the list with along with Golden Retrievers.

2. Pouring over Shelter Magazines.  (Note, I could call them "shelter mags," as they're often labeled; however that would be in direct violation with #2 of my non-preference list below.)

Fortunately for my subscription budget, but unfortunate for my past-time love, many of the great shelter magazines such as House and Garden and Domino have gone under.  I therefore find myself pouring over # 3...

3. Design Blogs. I am still working on my favorites...

4. Periwinkle.  My favorite clothing store in the Washington, DC area.  Elizabeth Mason, the owner, has an uncanny knack for putting together beautiful clothes and accessories to make the perfect outfit.  It's what I wish I could do naturally, but cannot.  (Which is why there are Elizabeths in the world.) Even when I can't afford to buy anything, I love looking at the gorgeous combinations.

5. Snacks are what I live for, because I'm like that type of desert mouse whose species I cannot recall that has to eat all of the time.  Although I know I'm supposed to just snack on "a piece of fruit" or "a handful of lowfat granola" (isn't that what the diet articles are always pushing?) my preferences include: Pretzel M & M's, pastel colored butter mints, Happy Goat Caramels (How can I resist any company that cares about a goat's well-being?) and cashews.  Can anyone say, "sweet and salty?"

6. Caramont Farm goat cheese.  Talk about happy goats!

7. Yoga pants from Athleta.  Anything that makes my bum look cute is worth buying.

romanticasheville.com

8. Asheville, North Carolina:  Gorgeous. In the mountains. Artist colony.  What's not to love?





9. Small businesses. I really do love to buy locally here at home or wherever I go.  (I know, so bandwagon.)  But so many businesses are little works of art.  They create such personally detailed atmospheres that actually have character.  Most important in my mind?  The owners are people who have guts.  They venture out of the typical work arena and create their own space.

Lovegrove Gallery via Coastal Living-AMAZING

10. Modwalls  So cool.  Just for fun, give the Modwalls Blender a try. You can go to their website and custom design glass tiles, then order samples of them.  Besides, it's good to be prepared.  You just never know when you'll need an emergency supply of custom designed glass tiles.

 11. Crest Outlast Toothpaste  I don't know what they put in this stuff (and no, I don't think reading the label would help) but the minty flavor does stay with you for a long time- sometimes as long as two to three hours!  Like I said, no clue what allows that to happen....

12. Talented people. Oh yes, I know, everyone has talents, but I'm referring to the people whose talents I know about because they have shared those talents with me in some way.  If you don't put your talent out there, how will I or anyone else know what you have to offer? 

Via: My Modern Met

13. Neon art. Dunno know why.  Just love it.

14. Innovative individuals.  These are people that are solving important problems, trying new things, creating something that's never been created before.  My sister is a great example.  She has Lupus and writes a poignant, funny, and informative blog about her experience.  She also wrote and published a fantastic book, Despite Lupus, that shows how to live well despite having a chronic illness.   Now she helps hundreds of people all over the world!



15. Personality.  I'm an ENFP, which is to say I have the following personality preferences:
Extroversion, INtuitive, Feeling, Perceiving.
So what does this mean in layman's terms?  I'm not the corporate type.

16. Flowers.  I have a habit of taking the picture of every flower I meet when I'm on vacation.  (Just ask my husband how many millions of floral images take up perfectly good hard drive space on our computer.)  I can't think of a more photo-worthy subject, except for my children, who, although adorable, move way too much when it comes to trying to capture them on film.  Which then begs the question:  why do I have thousands of pictures of them?

Non-preferences (no pictures for these bad boys.)

1. Any combined words, such as "jeggings."  Seriously.  There is no need. 

2. Abbreviations such as 'vator (elevator) or 'braire (library).   You can imagine this musical theatre lover's dismay when people began calling Les Miserables "Les Miz."
*note, in college, I met a friend who shared my distaste for abbreviations.  Ironically, her name was M.K. (short for Mary Kathryn.)

3.  Bumper stickers.  Again, seriously.  There is no need for me to know, just by looking at a person's car:
a) who they voted for, or
b) how they feel about, well, anything... or
c) that "s#@t happens!"

I mean, it's a car, for heaven's sake.  How about... just, ummmm, driving it?

4. Taking care of practical details.  That would be a ruh-eeeally nice preference to have, but I don't. Of course, I know that just because I don't prefer to do something doesn't mean I don't do it.  But I do tend to procrastinate those types of tasks.  For example, scheduling my own appointments around multiple schedules.  Talk about torture!!  I use up all of my practical detailing energy taking care of my kids' doctor appointments for heaven's sake....

5.  Living in the moment.  Nope, c'est pas moi. I'm a future thinker who takes a shot at mindfulness now and then.  And, yet again, it would be a nice natural preference to have, but I don't.  That's the "N" in my personality. (See Preference #15 above.)

A friend of mine, another woman who has the "N" preference, jokes that she knows she should read The Power of Now, but she never gets around to it.  I told her I feel her pain.  I've not read it either.   I'm sure I'll get to it... but right now I'm just too busy imagining how good it would be for me to read it.

6. Repetition.  So much for becoming a world class figure skater, or opera singer or anything that requires a lot of repetitive work.

7. Taking Care of Newborns.  I was really relieved when my children passed the six month stage....

Oh, alright!!!!! Who am I kidding?  Their first years are rather blurred by all of the practical details of diaper changings and feedings and whatever else I managed to do.

8. Abstaining from good food.  I know, I know, who likes to diet?  But I can't think of anything I'd rather NOT do than enjoy a good meal, no matter how many calories it has.  And I really can't stand bland food. 

9.  Routine.  I don't mind a schedule or having a system, within flexible reason!  But the redundancy that comes with a monotonous routine puts me over the edge... into my next non-preference...

10.  Boredom.  See, here I go writing a previous post called Rules of Engagement, whereby one is responsible for preventing one's own boredom; yet I still experience this mental phenomenon?  I suppose it's a little thing called "ob-li-ga-tion."

And there you have it.  Now, what are yours?  Let me know!  Maybe it will become a "fav" of mine!
(Ugh..., it hurt just to type that.)