Sunday, December 30, 2007

Cages of Kryptonite

I’m bored. I think that for me, boredom is like a cage. It is hard to escape and I feel as if I am mentally pacing back and forth like the tigers at the zoo. There are not many things I hate more than boredom. Imaginative, independent person that I consider myself to be, you would think that boredom would be easily dealt with. But sometimes, I get in a mood that I find it hard to get out of. Nothing tempts me (not even video games!).

Maybe boredom is my kryptonite. It certainly seems to zap my will and my strength. I’m not sure how it seeps into my life, but it usually starts with a general feeling of discontent. I flit about from one activity to the next, like a bumblebee on speed. Nothing is completed, and some tasks get abandoned before they have made it past the thought stage. This stage is usually quickly followed by a long brooding session, trying to figure out what it is that I really want to do. My mind plays with various ideas, seeking out the perfect cure for an overactive mind and an under active behind! I dismiss idea after idea: some are too much fun (when I should be productive), some are too much work and the rest are usually just way too high in calories! At this point, I usually get in a foul mood, frustration and anger bubbling under the surface, toes tapping impatiently and eyes flitting around the room, desperately seeking a distraction to end all distractions.

Today, blog-writing is that distraction. My house is on autopilot, heading toward an ever increasing state of chaos. My work is also piling up, but today the pile seems just too big to tackle. And so, I write. My writing is an invitation for you to watch me pace back and forth within this cage. So, if you are out there and have a key for this damn cage, send it my way?

Friday, December 28, 2007

Happy Holidays

This holiday season marked the first time in 21 years that I did not have a ‘child’ to spend Christmas with. Now, don’t get me wrong. Nothing untimely has happened to my kids. But something did happen when I wasn’t looking. My kids have turned into adults. Although bittersweet, I have found that having ‘adult children’ (how’s that for oxymoronic?) has its perks.

This year my son hosted his first Christmas dinner. The turkey was perfectly cooked, the potatoes expertly mashed and the gravy was delish. Okay, so I made the gravy, but I swear he did the rest, with only a little guidance from me. I had a wonderfully restful day. I napped, I played video games, and through it all the wonderful smell of turkey roasting gave me a wonderful feeling of contentment.

Another wonderful perk of having grown up offspring is that this year I had a very grown up tree. It did not have to be put inside of a barricade to avoid ornamental ingestion. We did not have to put all the glass ornaments on the top of the tree, out of reach. No popsicle stick mangers, no egg carton and glitter Christmas ornaments and no painted popcorn garlands. It is all dark purple and silver with white mini-lights. It is quite magical really.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love a tree that has been decorated by chubby little fingers. There is something quite beautiful about a tree that has 98% of its ornaments on the bottom 3 feet of the tree. I can brag with the best of them about how little Junior made that toilet paper roll Wiseman with no help at all. But this year, I didn’t have to.

This year, I will brag about how my daughter saw the importance of having a grown up tree before I did. This year, I will brag about how my son spent part of Christmas cooking a turkey and the other part making sure everyone was happy and comfortable. This year, I might even brag about how I didn’t have to pretend that the gifts were perfect, because this year my kids both really thought about what I love. They are wonderful kids adults!

When I had small children, I used to swear that Christmas was best viewed through the eyes of children. There is a magic and wonder in those eyes that you don’t usually see in the eyes of the over 40 set. But this year, I experienced the magic and wonder firsthand. I learned to relax and let other capable hands take care of the details. I trimmed a very grown up tree with a very grown up daughter. It really was a great Christmas. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if all the people I love could have been there to see it too. For those of you who missed it, hopefully, you just got a sneak peak. Happy Holidays!

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Words

I should be working, but it is the day of the eve of Christmas Eve, so that seems like a good excuse to take a bit of a break. Yesterday, my friend S and I trekked out to Surrey to help my son shop for Christmas at his house. It is his first year hosting the event, so we decided to help out with the shopping (and the paying) so as not to be left wondering why there were no potatoes to go with the turkey. If I had to come up with one word to describe the day it would be sloggy. Yup, that’s right. Sloggy.

I want to begin by saying that I have every right to use such a word. As a sociologist, it is my duty, in fact, to use it. For those of you who aren’t familiar with what it means to be a sociologist, let me refer you to Rule 3 in the sociologist guide book:

“When a word does not exist that fully encompasses what it is you need to express, create a new one.”

When I heard the word “neo-logism” I fell madly and deeply in love. Birthing new words is almost as exciting as birthing babies, only there is virtually no pain involved. It is a deeply creative and loving process, combined of course with a good deal of silliness and whimsy. Can you get any better than that? I didn’t think so.

So, back to Sloggy. Let me set the scene. S and I arrived by skytrain to Surrey. It was quite apparent that it had been snowing for some time, but the big beautiful flakes of falling snow had turned to a grey, drizzling rain and the fluffy white stuff had turned to grey mushy pudding of various depths and consistencies. In some places it was frozen solid and in others, it was a mushy, slippery mess. Put the two together and walking became treacherous and uncomfortable.

By the time we had inched our way slowly to my son’s home, (only a block and a half away from the bus stop) the bottom 8 inches of my pants were wet, my socks soaked through and my feet squished about in my shoes making the most dreadful slorking sound. My toes were cold, and I declared to anyone that would listen that my feet were disgustingly sloggy. Yup, that’s right, not only were my feet soggy, but they were also slushy inside my shoes. Ick!

Yes, I could probably have just said “The slush has made my feet cold and soggy.” That would have probably required less explanation and fewer funny looks. But, I so enjoy the funny looks, and I assure you that once you have hopped from icy sidewalks into shin deep slush followed by ankle deep puddles, you too will agree that there is no other word that quite describes the feeling. Feel free to add it to your own personal dictionaries, as I do love to share.

Oh, and for those of you who are curious about what other secrets exist in the sociologist guide book, stay tuned! For those of you who simply can’t wait, here are a few of the rules, picked at random, for your voyeuristic pleasure.

Rule 5: Never say exactly what you mean the first time. The secret to being a great sociologist is to make people read between the lines. If you can bracket out part of a word, even better. Never say removed, when you can say (re)moved, for instance. Not only does it allow for multiple interpretations (to take away, to move again, to move AND remove, to move OR remove…. the list goes on), but it also allows you to claim misinterpretation if someone critiques your theory in ways that are otherwise impossible to defend.

Rule 9: Never go to movies, plays or concerts with non-sociologist friends unless you provide them with the appropriate disclaimer that every racialized, gendered, sexualized, able-ist, class-ist (or any other ‘ist’ you can think of) theme will be analyzed, unpacked and critiqued. This does not mean that we did not enjoy the entertainment, it just allows us to enjoy it for a longer period of time and in a way that is slightly masochistic. Let’s just call it the S&M enjoyment of mainstream entertainment.

Rule 291: (yes, it is a very long manual). If someone asks you what exactly sociology is, it is unacceptable to tell them that you have no idea. However, if you really have no idea, it is acceptable to refer them to a higher authority, “as they can explain it much more eloquently.” If you are unsure if your ‘higher authority’ knows, just make sure they read the guidebook before you refer anyone else to them.

So, there you have it. A sneak peak inside both my personal and my professional world. Or should I say my perfessional…profersonal world? Boy, I love words!

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

It has been four days since my last blog-fession.

Although I am not Catholic and have never been to confessional, I am beginning to feel the draw of the blog, much like I would imagine some are drawn to the confessional. However, unlike the confessional (or my very limited understanding of it,) the blog-fessional encourages not only a confession of our ‘sins’ but also offers a self-congratulatory aspect as well.

I am currently very encouraged by my progress over the last 10 days. I have managed to attend various meetings, shop for and celebrate my son’s 21st birthday, put up two Christmas trees and still make progress on the dreaded comprehensive exam. I have progressed from three books left to read and seven and a half annotations left to write to 1.5 books left to read and 2.5 annotations left to write. Further evidence of my progress is the state of my ‘desk.’

On December 2nd I wrote:

Along with my beloved laptop (whose name is Karma, by the way), are my house keys, a half-eaten bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs, a package of Christmas ornament hooks, a coupon for Old Navy, my cell phone, a purple ribbon that I have forgotten to wear, a broken pen, scissors, a stapler, my second favourite ring and 43 cents. Don’t even get me started on what’s on my REAL desk!

An update:

Along with my beloved laptop are my wallet, glasses case, a bottle of high-potency vitamin B, candy, a flosser, a pencil and a cell phone.

Now that’s progress! Life is good. (Although I’m still not ready to talk about what is piled on my other desk!)

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Letting go and hanging on

As some of you may have noted, this blog is about life lessons. In particular, I am especially interested in learning around embracing that which I seek to escape and escaping that which I seek to embrace. Sounds a bit odd, huh?

This all started with a realization that, for me, the biggest stumbling blocks to growth have been my two ongoing responses to fear. First, is my tendency to run away. Second, is my tendency to hold on too tight. So, I don’t mean literally that I want to embrace all those things I seek to escape, or that I should run away from all those things I hold on tightly to. What I mean, is that I need to metaphorically embrace the fears, at least long enough to determine whether or not they are a real threat to me. Likewise, I need to escape my tendency to hold on too tightly so that I can determine whether I need to simply loosen my grip or if I am actually safer letting go completely.

I am definitely in the right line of work to learn these lessons, as grad school is really a series of lessons in ‘learning to embrace that which we seek to escape and to escape that which we seek to embrace.’

When I began grad school, I have to admit that I was running from a lot of fears. My greatest fears, for instance, were that I would never be smart enough, that I would never finish and that I would drown in my debt. Grad school has taught me:

  1. That I never want to be smart enough. The day I think I know it all, is the day that I am obsolete.
  2. That I will never, ever, finish. Grad school simply prepares us for a career of constant learning, new forms of evaluation and more complex ‘grading schemes’
  3. That drowning in debt is a fear worth embracing, as feeling the pull of the water is a great motivation to head for shore, or at least to tread water faster.

On the other hand, when I started grad school, I was also holding on very tightly to other things that I was afraid of losing. I was terrified of losing my independence, my creativity, and my beliefs. Grad school has taught me:

  1. That true independence doesn’t need to be held so tightly. Learning what others have to teach me, both academically and about ‘real life’ has made me realize that I can only become stronger by acknowledging my weaknesses, by leaning on others and by working with others.
  2. That creativity takes many forms. That sometimes my desire to write creatively was simply a desire to dress up what I feared was substandard academic work. What I learned was that for me, true creativity is about finding new ways to be understood, new ways to stand behind my own ‘truths’
  3. That losing my beliefs is only possible if I refuse to change them or to let them change me. For instance, I believed that the biggest goal of research was to change or improve the lives of those I studied. I had all of these grand ideas about doing research that changed lives, that made a real difference in people’s lives. My MA research sits in a mini-filing cabinet on a few mini-sheets of semi-transparent film. I will probably never know if anyone reads it or if it would matter if they did. And yet, doing the research has changed me. What I have learned has made me more committed, more passionate and better equipped to do what really matters to me. To teach and to learn. I learned that my ability to change the world is only as great or as small as my ability to be changed. My ability to teach is only as great or small as my ability to learn.

So, these are a few of life’s lessons I have learned while at grad school. But in an effort to not paint too rosy of a picture, I wanted to leave you with a few other lessons I have learned. I have learned that:

  1. Sometimes reading academic work is simply an exercise in watching other people masturbate onto a page.
  2. Sometimes writing academic work is simply an exercise in letting other people watch.
  3. I’m not the only one who hides behind big words.
  4. You can survive for weeks on end with nothing in your cupboard but mini-wheats and canned peas.
  5. Playing King of the Hill has undergone a revival. It isn’t just for playschool anymore.
  6. Volunteering is not always voluntary.
  7. My academic success (relative as it is) is directly related to my failure as a housekeeper.
  8. Having balance in one’s life is less about a proper ratio of fun to work and more about a change in definition of what fun is. I have lots of fun = I enjoy a little intellectual sado-masochism as much as the next person.
  9. Procrastination is a necessary tool of survival.
  10. So are friends.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

It's all about you...

Today I found myself reflecting with a friend on how cathartic writing a blog can be. This got me thinking about what a blog is. In so many ways, it defies definition. Okay, so it doesn’t totally defy definition. Here’s what my good friend Merriam Webster has to say (I believe that I am entitled to call M. W. my good friend, as I’ve probably had more conversations with Merriam in the last four years than all of my other friends put together):

Blog: a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writer.

Sounds pretty simple, doesn’t it? But what is missing from this definition? Although implied, there is nothing explicit in this definition about the most crucial component of a blog. You. If, in fact there is a ‘you’ out there. That’s the crux of it. There may not be a ‘you’ out there after all!

A blog is an exercise in the unseen and the unknowable. A blog is an exercise in textual fantasy. Again, my friend Merriam is useful:

Fantasy: a mental image or a series of mental images.

So, a blog is a place where all these mental images can go. A place without space. It is a fantasy land where my thoughts, desires, dreams and even my nightmares can come out and play. But it is more than that. A journal or diary can just as easily be an exercise in textual fantasy. A blog is distinguished from a mere textual fantasy by the nature of its performativity.

A blog is both fantasy and voyeurism in one not-so-neat little fetishized package. It is a place where I march out my mental images like players on a grand stage, playing to an invisible audience. Places without spaces and people without faces.

I recite my monologue from an empty stage to a darkened room. I hear the echo of my voice reverberating through the room and it comforts me. Sometimes I peer out into the darkness, trying to see if you are among the shadows. Other times, I prefer not knowing. There is a sense of safety in not knowing if anyone is watching and an element of excitement in knowing that maybe someone is.

I could write this without ‘publishing’ it. Much of the catharsis is in the writing of the play, in the rehearsals and the dress rehearsals. But the fact that I am here, that these words are here (while I may in fact be washing dishes, writing annotations or drooling in my sleep), is testament to the fact that it isn’t just about me. It’s about you. Whoever you are.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Beware of Falling Rocks

Today has been somewhat more productive, despite a tooth (jaw?) ache that has me popping Advil every four hours or so. I began today with an exercise in vision and perspective. The classroom of five year olds was not working for me.

I began by visualizing my work. I envisioned it as a great mountain. I am at the bottom, slowly chipping away at the mountain of rock, knowing that beneath it is the treasure. But the mountain is unstable. It threatens to crumble into a giant avalanche. If it does not bury me, it will surely undo all the work I have done clearing away the rubble at the base. I simply cannot stop. But, I am far too tired to keep up the pace, and I am not even sure if the rocks I have chipped away are even making a dent, as I am constantly looking upward at what remains to be done.

So, today, I decided that it was worth the climb to stand at the top and observe it all spread out around me, beneath me. Suddenly it didn’t look quite so big. I’m sure that just by climbing it, I dislodged some rocks and the mountain diminished just a little. I could see so much more from atop my mountain.

So, from the top of my mountain I made the dreaded list of things I need to do over the next month and have made a plan for moving each stone. What a difference a change in perspective can make. I even managed to check a few things off of the list! I’m chipping away, but this time from the top. The risk of avalanche has been averted, at least for now. Just look out down below!

Monday, December 3, 2007

Brain Children

Today was a very non-productive day. I should be reading for my comprehensive exam, but, as you can see, I am not. I’m not sure what it is with me. It seems that once there is an end in sight, I start to avoid finishing. Perhaps it is fear of what comes next. Maybe it’s simply that I’ve run out of steam. I’m not sure. It doesn’t help that my books keep getting recalled. I have three books left to read and seven and a half annotations left to write. I am determined that I will finish these tasks by the end of the month. I was equally determined last month.

I am easily overwhelmed. Perhaps this is one of the down sides of my chaotic nature. I find it hard to prioritize all of the tasks, responsibilities and pleasures. I feel like a teacher in a classroom of five year olds, all clamouring about seeking my undivided attention. Even when I am able to decide which five year old most needs my attention, I am ever aware of the 20 other children voicing their disappointment, displeasure and disapproval. They just won’t shut up, damnit!

I don’t mean to complain. I know lots of people who have far more tasks to deal with than I do. I just wish one of them would take the time to write a book telling me where the mute switch is on all these noisy children. Today, for instance, I woke up early and decided that rather than go back to sleep, I would read one of my books. I got about five pages read before I realized that I had no idea what the last 3 pages had been about. I realized that I had spent the last three pages reading while also trying to itemize what I needed to get done, what were my biggest priorities, and what could get pushed aside. Not only did I not get the reading done, I also did not decide on how to prioritize all of the other brain children.

So, tonight I decided to take the night off. I have a new plan. Tomorrow morning, I am going to line up all those demanding little brats…um….children. Then, I am going to schedule them all into various time slots and hope that this strategy will shut them up for awhile. I’ll keep you posted. And if anyone has any misplaced children, please feel free to take one of my 20.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

What's in a name?

Choosing a blog name is kind of like choosing a name for your child. You want the name to be memorable, unique and not become an ongoing source of teasing. You also want it to be a name that ‘fits’ but that allows for growth along the way. For instance, Ittybittycuteywittlebunny, might just reflect how you feel about the new addition to your family, but when Ittybittycuteywittlebunny turns sixteen, trust me, he will not thank you for the name.

So, given that it took quite some time to come up with “Out of the Chaos, I Rise,” I thought perhaps I should take you along on my naming journey. Perhaps it will give you a little more insight into my life, the way my brain works and my reasons for starting this blog (besides the ones already noted in the by now famous inaugural posting).

Neitsche once penned the phrase “One must have chaos within one to give birth to a dancing star.” These words have provided me with much comfort and inspiration. I am not sure what his intention was when he wrote these words, but for me, they have helped me to embrace the chaos that is within me, as a productive source of creativity. And so, I hope you will understand the words “Out of the Chaos, I Rise,” as having two meanings.

First, it is out of the chaos that is within me that I make sense of myself and the world around me. I have been told many times that I think too much. That I ‘over-think’ things, and I suppose this is true. But, I attribute this to the chaos that is within me. Even when I try to stop thinking and over-thinking, the chaos reigns. It is give in or give out. I choose to give in. I figure the chaos is there for a reason. Taming the chaos may be an option, but it seems sad to tame anything that powerful.

The second meaning is far less profound. Quite frankly, when I look around me, I see chaos. Take for instance the items on my ‘desk’ (which is actually a tacky TV tray that allows me to watch TV, play video games and play Scrabulous with friends and family, all while I work). Right now, along with my beloved laptop (whose name is Karma, by the way), are my house keys, a half-eaten bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs, a package of Christmas ornament hooks, a coupon for Old Navy, my cell phone, a purple ribbon that I have forgotten to wear, a broken pen, scissors, a stapler, my second favourite ring and 43 cents. Don’t even get me started on what’s on my REAL desk! Anyway, mostly I don’t mind the chaos, although some days it gets to be too much, even for my chaotic soul and I rush around in a state of frenzy and cast my “let there be order” wand in all directions. I love the feeling of an ordered and organized house. Maybe I love it so much because it is such a rarity. In any case, the order usually lasts about a day and a half. If I’m lucky.

So, while I embrace the inner chaos, I still struggle to tame the chaos that vomits itself into every corner of my home. So there it is. My naked reality. Okay, maybe it’s a little early to get naked, but what’s a little nudity between friends? ;)

Out of the Chaos, I Rise.

Where does one begin? The inaugural post seems like it should be deep and profound. Right? But then I start to think (as you will come to see, I think entirely too much), that if I want to set the tone, not to mention the bar, in this first post, I do not want to a) scare people off, b) set too high expectations or c) lose sight of the reason for starting this blog. And so, perhaps I should start with my reasons.

A good friend of mine (J) has been encouraging me to take the dip in the Blog waters, to get my feet wet. She assures me that the water is fine. But, although I love to write, I have resisted the temptation to Blog for a number of reasons. First, I have a friend and a sister who have set the bar pretty high and I am not sure that I can jump over it. My rationale: I'm going to crawl along under the bar. No shame in that, is there? The goal is the same, even if the terrain is different. Second, I already have way too many distractions on my journey to Academic Climax (also known as graduation from the PhD program). I am a procrastinator of the most extraordinary caliber and I do not need to develop this skill any further. My rationale: Perhaps this will make me more accountable. If I publish my intentions, perhaps I will feel more compelled to follow through. Lastly, I am a great starter, but tend to lose steam on projects. My rationale: Maybe this one will be different. Yeah, right. We'll see.

As you can see, both by my desire to rationalize the beginning of this Blog and by the very fact that I am here, part of me really wants to do this. To give free reign to all of those rebellious thoughts that are fighting to be heard. To share some of my journey and to hopefully inspire other closet optimists to 'come out' and be heard.

And so it begins. Out of the chaos of my life, I rise to speak, to share, to laugh and to encourage. Out of the chaos, perhaps I rise only to fall. But the optimist inside assures you that I will rise again. Watch for it! ;)