On a professional basis, I spent a good part of last year in a pretty unhappy state. I was performing work that I was not hired to do, in a culture that just wasn't a good fit for me. So in spite of working for and with some really exceptional people, I decided to look for another option.
So I was keeping an eye on Linked-In and some other engineering job forums, when one day I saw an old colleague of mine was hiring. The job ad specified an engineer in California, but I thought, what the hay, I'll send him a note and tell him to keep me in mind if something comes up in Colorado.
Well, the California requirement was actually a mistake in the job ad, and he was hiring in Colorado.
After a number of weeks of negotiation and secondary interviews, we settled on a November 18th start date.
This has been such a relief. I'm doing the work for which I'm best-suited. I'm comfortable with the expectations and work requirements. I'm delighted to be working on projects where the goal is revenue attainment rather than cultural change. And in spite of my current status as the token chick on the team, the leadership organization has made a commitment to ensuring more gender diversity not only in the engineering teams, but in leadership, as well.
Today I'm grateful for a job where I feel I can be successful, the ability to perform my work well, and for the professional relationships that have made my career successful and fulfilling.
A Month of Gratitude, Day 6 - My Auntie and Uncle
Friday, December 6, 2013
I have an Aunt and Uncle.
They live out in the country, and keep chickens, whom they name. They like it out there, even though they spend a considerable amount of time here in the Big City visiting family and such.
And when the Smart Man and I grow up, we want to be just like them.
My Aunt and Uncle are amazingly decent and kind human beings. There's simply nothing to dislike about them. They're gracious, generous, funny, kind and supportive. They have their priorities in life, and those priorities center around people. People they care about. People they know, people they don't know.
And they love one another. There's no one they'd rather spend time with than each other, and they've spent the last 30+ years doing just that. They don't argue, and they demonstrate with their behavior that the other's happiness is a top concern for both of them. It pains them to be apart, so they'd really rather not.
The Smart Man and I are not really temperamentally suited for that kind of relationship. We enjoy spending time together, we don't like to be apart, but we pursue our own interests and friendships, as well.
But my Auntie Michel and Uncle Larry provide a great example, not only of kind, decent human beings, but of applying those lessons to their marriage and their lives together.
Today I'm grateful to have my Auntie and Uncle in my life, to help guide me and keep my priorities where they should be.
They live out in the country, and keep chickens, whom they name. They like it out there, even though they spend a considerable amount of time here in the Big City visiting family and such.
And when the Smart Man and I grow up, we want to be just like them.
My Aunt and Uncle are amazingly decent and kind human beings. There's simply nothing to dislike about them. They're gracious, generous, funny, kind and supportive. They have their priorities in life, and those priorities center around people. People they care about. People they know, people they don't know.
And they love one another. There's no one they'd rather spend time with than each other, and they've spent the last 30+ years doing just that. They don't argue, and they demonstrate with their behavior that the other's happiness is a top concern for both of them. It pains them to be apart, so they'd really rather not.
The Smart Man and I are not really temperamentally suited for that kind of relationship. We enjoy spending time together, we don't like to be apart, but we pursue our own interests and friendships, as well.
But my Auntie Michel and Uncle Larry provide a great example, not only of kind, decent human beings, but of applying those lessons to their marriage and their lives together.
Today I'm grateful to have my Auntie and Uncle in my life, to help guide me and keep my priorities where they should be.
A Month of Gratitude, Day 5 - My Lost Baby Girl
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Today I'm going to repost the eulogy I wrote for my baby girl, who died on July 31st. I am so grateful that I had a chance to know her, that she was a part of my life, however briefly. And I can't think of anything to say that I didn't write before.
___________
When someone we love commits suicide, I think people have a natural tendency to get angry, to rail against the universe, to demand an explanation where none exists. We blame the victim, the world, ourselves.
But I can’t do that. I can’t do that because even though I will never be able to wrap my mind around why Moe chose to end her life, I cannot allow anger and despair to overshadow how very grateful I am that she was my daughter; how her presence in my life enriched me and made me a better person. So I choose to celebrate her life, however short, and to remember her in the same way I saw her in life, with love and admiration.
And there was a lot to love to admire.
My daughter was fierce. In all my life, I have never met another human being who had more conviction for doing what she thought was right and fair, consequences to herself be damned. She never hesitated to take a stand on moral grounds, or to stick up for the underdog. I loved this about her, and her courage inspired me to be more courageous.
My daughter had a stunning intellect. She read voraciously, all her life, right from the beginning. We would often see her moving through the house with her nose stuck in a book, to the point where we became a little concerned that she’d fall down the stairs from not watching where she was going. Books were her lifelong friends, and her love of reading was a cornerstone of who she was. She consumed information about her world with the curiosity of the elephant’s child, whether the topic was Dr. Who or social commentary on feminism in the modern age. And nothing made her happier than to share this passion with others.
My daughter had an amazing ability to care for and invest in other people. She was passionate about social justice. In spite of facing discrimination herself, she spent considerable effort in trying to see the world through the eyes of those who had less privilege. She cared about feminism, and the LGBT community, and those who couldn’t care for themselves. My daughter loved meat. Steak, bacon, sushi – she loved it all. But when she decided that eating animals was not an ethical act, she did not hesitate to become a vegetarian, because it was the right thing to do, even though it meant giving up something she thoroughly enjoyed. It’s who she was, and her ethical consistency and ability to sacrifice holds me to a higher standard, as well.
There was time when things weren’t easy between us. We both spent her teen years being angry and hurt. But as she approached adulthood, we turned a corner, and adopted the attitude that being right was not nearly as important as being family. I cannot express how profoundly grateful I am to have had the opportunity to rebuild my relationship with Moe on a foundation of trust, respect and mutual support, and I know she felt the same way. Getting to know one another as unique human beings with our own priorities and desires has been one of the most precious and sacred experiences of my life. I’m so thankful to have done this work, and to have done it with someone whom I love and admire so deeply.
I will miss my baby girl every day of my life. But I will remember her positively, in all her glory and uniqueness, in all her awesomeness. She really did march to the beat of her own tuba, and I’m grateful, utterly grateful, to have marched with her, however briefly.
I’d like to close with a quote from Winnie the Pooh: "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
___________
When someone we love commits suicide, I think people have a natural tendency to get angry, to rail against the universe, to demand an explanation where none exists. We blame the victim, the world, ourselves.
But I can’t do that. I can’t do that because even though I will never be able to wrap my mind around why Moe chose to end her life, I cannot allow anger and despair to overshadow how very grateful I am that she was my daughter; how her presence in my life enriched me and made me a better person. So I choose to celebrate her life, however short, and to remember her in the same way I saw her in life, with love and admiration.
And there was a lot to love to admire.
My daughter was fierce. In all my life, I have never met another human being who had more conviction for doing what she thought was right and fair, consequences to herself be damned. She never hesitated to take a stand on moral grounds, or to stick up for the underdog. I loved this about her, and her courage inspired me to be more courageous.
My daughter had a stunning intellect. She read voraciously, all her life, right from the beginning. We would often see her moving through the house with her nose stuck in a book, to the point where we became a little concerned that she’d fall down the stairs from not watching where she was going. Books were her lifelong friends, and her love of reading was a cornerstone of who she was. She consumed information about her world with the curiosity of the elephant’s child, whether the topic was Dr. Who or social commentary on feminism in the modern age. And nothing made her happier than to share this passion with others.
My daughter had an amazing ability to care for and invest in other people. She was passionate about social justice. In spite of facing discrimination herself, she spent considerable effort in trying to see the world through the eyes of those who had less privilege. She cared about feminism, and the LGBT community, and those who couldn’t care for themselves. My daughter loved meat. Steak, bacon, sushi – she loved it all. But when she decided that eating animals was not an ethical act, she did not hesitate to become a vegetarian, because it was the right thing to do, even though it meant giving up something she thoroughly enjoyed. It’s who she was, and her ethical consistency and ability to sacrifice holds me to a higher standard, as well.
There was time when things weren’t easy between us. We both spent her teen years being angry and hurt. But as she approached adulthood, we turned a corner, and adopted the attitude that being right was not nearly as important as being family. I cannot express how profoundly grateful I am to have had the opportunity to rebuild my relationship with Moe on a foundation of trust, respect and mutual support, and I know she felt the same way. Getting to know one another as unique human beings with our own priorities and desires has been one of the most precious and sacred experiences of my life. I’m so thankful to have done this work, and to have done it with someone whom I love and admire so deeply.
I will miss my baby girl every day of my life. But I will remember her positively, in all her glory and uniqueness, in all her awesomeness. She really did march to the beat of her own tuba, and I’m grateful, utterly grateful, to have marched with her, however briefly.
I’d like to close with a quote from Winnie the Pooh: "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
A Month of Gratitude, Day 4 - Giving Tuesday
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
I'm not a huge fan of the "Black Friday" cultural phenomenon. The crowds make me claustrophobic, it offends me deeply that people are forced to work on the holiday in order to cater to the consumerism and greed of the populace, and the behavior of some of the shoppers is enough to make me weep in despair.
Which is why I'm so fond of the counter-movement known as "Giving Tuesday." In its second year, it's a campaign to designate the Tuesday after Thanksgiving as a day to give back, donate to charity, or volunteer time to help others. We participated last year, and I wanted to participate this year, as well. Unfortunately, I'm in California today and tomorrow, so we moved our donation to Saturday instead, by heading over to Keller's again this year with the Toys for Tots haul:
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| Is there anything cooler than getting a bike on Christmas morning? |
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| We ran out of bags this year, and because of the bikes, had to take two vehicles for the drop-off. |
Today I'm grateful that I live in a society where a grass roots effort to celebrate generosity and charity is growing exponentially.
A Month of Gratitude, Day 3 - The Incomparable Anne™
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
I have a friend. I met her on the Internet, and when it turned out that we lived in the same city, we decided to meet for lunch one day in January 2008.
Since then, we've become close friends, making an effort to see each other on a regular basis. We've met one another's families, and because she has a reputation as a "gateway friend," she's introduced me to some really stellar people.
One of the things I love about Anne is that we share a very specific personality trait: We're both introspective navel-gazers. Exploring our own minds in the name of self-knowledge and self-improvement is an activity on which we've both spent a considerable amount of time and energy. This work - and it is work - requires a certain amount of intellectual rigor, and a dedication to self honesty. Anne has both those things, and one of the things I've learned from her is the ability to be assertive in communicating what I want from specific situations or activities. Shuffling off the societal expectation for women to take what's given with no complaint is an important aspect of growth for me, and Anne has been one of my role models in this area.
Today I'm grateful to have a friend like Anne in my life - someone who challenges me, who shares my intellectual life with me, who's always willing to spend some time gazing into our navels.
Since then, we've become close friends, making an effort to see each other on a regular basis. We've met one another's families, and because she has a reputation as a "gateway friend," she's introduced me to some really stellar people.
One of the things I love about Anne is that we share a very specific personality trait: We're both introspective navel-gazers. Exploring our own minds in the name of self-knowledge and self-improvement is an activity on which we've both spent a considerable amount of time and energy. This work - and it is work - requires a certain amount of intellectual rigor, and a dedication to self honesty. Anne has both those things, and one of the things I've learned from her is the ability to be assertive in communicating what I want from specific situations or activities. Shuffling off the societal expectation for women to take what's given with no complaint is an important aspect of growth for me, and Anne has been one of my role models in this area.
Today I'm grateful to have a friend like Anne in my life - someone who challenges me, who shares my intellectual life with me, who's always willing to spend some time gazing into our navels.
A Month of Gratitude, Day 2 - The UCF
Monday, December 2, 2013
I have a group of on-line friends. We met on a now defunct discussion board, and found in each other a self-selected group who had the ability to think, to be silly, to be funny, to be friends with one another, in spite of not ever having met in person.
We call ourselves "The UCF." This stands for "The Union of Collaborating Founders," and none of us really remember what that means or how Nathan came up with it. We're just "The UCF."
Over the years, we've made efforts to actually meet one another. I've met almost 70% of the group in person, as well as their wives, husbands and partners. There's a cadre of "UCF Auxiliary" members such as The Mechanicky Gal and Sister Stacey, who enhance and extend our relationships.
We've been friends since the Winter of 2007-2008. We've stood by each other during the very best and the very worst times of our lives. Death. Destruction. New jobs. Old jobs. Break ups. New relationships. Old relationships. You name it, one of us has been through it during the last six years.
There have been members who have drifted away from the group, and new members have been asked to join. But always, the group has been comprised of high quality people, decent people, smart people, people who make me think and enrich my life.
Today I'm grateful for The UCF, who make me laugh and make me feel loved, in all their whacky glory.
We call ourselves "The UCF." This stands for "The Union of Collaborating Founders," and none of us really remember what that means or how Nathan came up with it. We're just "The UCF."
Over the years, we've made efforts to actually meet one another. I've met almost 70% of the group in person, as well as their wives, husbands and partners. There's a cadre of "UCF Auxiliary" members such as The Mechanicky Gal and Sister Stacey, who enhance and extend our relationships.
We've been friends since the Winter of 2007-2008. We've stood by each other during the very best and the very worst times of our lives. Death. Destruction. New jobs. Old jobs. Break ups. New relationships. Old relationships. You name it, one of us has been through it during the last six years.
There have been members who have drifted away from the group, and new members have been asked to join. But always, the group has been comprised of high quality people, decent people, smart people, people who make me think and enrich my life.
Today I'm grateful for The UCF, who make me laugh and make me feel loved, in all their whacky glory.
A Month of Gratitude, Day 1 - The Gift of Reading
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Worldwide, 775 million adults — approximately 12 percent of the world’s population — are considered functionally illiterate, with only basic or below-basic literacy levels in their native languages. Without the ability to effectively use the written and digital information in the world around them, these individuals are unable to help themselves, their families and those around them.I cannot remember a time when I couldn't read, and read well. The idea that I would not be able to do so is completely foreign to me, and considering how many thousands of hours I've spent with my nose in a book, or a Kindle, or my iPad, I suspect my life would have been very different had I not spent so much time indulging my passion.
The ability (and desire) to read was just assumed in the house where I grew up, and no book was "off limits." So beginning in grade school, I read voraciously, and never really stopped. I average between 80 and 100 books a year, and after my daughter died and I was out on disability for my hysterectomy, I disappeared into fiction.
Today I'm grateful for the gift of reading, which enriches my life and broadens my horizons.
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