Pollyanna

I mentioned to a friend last week that I was feeling a whole lot let PollyAnna'ish that I usually am - she responded: 'you're allowed to you know'.  Yikes - am I!?!?! 

Never given myself actual permission for that before!

There are days and there are days - and then there are weeks, months even,  when you (erh-herm I mean ME when I say that obviously) that are so nutty that one (you, me, I) is not about putting ones  head up for air  but possibly just hoping that a few globs of oxygen are going to make it down as far as said head is buried.

That's how the past couple of months have been for me anyway - and it's probably my own fault. An inability to say NO when asked to do stuff, a tendency to operate by way of short bursts of productivity interspersed with long periods of pfaffing (a phrase stolen from someone else but SO good!), and a general sense that THE YEAR IS RUNNING OUT AND THERE'S STILL SO MUCH TO DO (what's with that anyway? - It's not like the world is gonna end on December24...) - these things are have resulted in me having massive to do lists, running from one place to the next, day in day out, cramming as much into my weekends as possible, going to bed too late, eating a lot of wraps and salad (not all bad but kinda sick of quick food), and imbibing fairly impressive quantities of coffee.  

I'm not really complaining as such - it's mostly all stuff I do want to do, including getting ready for a new job, finishing some overdue renovations on my house, starting some new projects at the office, the usual family and friend things - and doing kid stuff around my work schedule, but there's the odd day when I come up the drive after a 12 or 14 hour day and think - STOP THE WORLD I WANT TO GET OFF!!!!

The bummer is of course, that most of us, me included, don't get the privilege of opting out.  Pesky stakeholders like my Bank, my family, my community, my employers, put pay to that.  I am torn between admiring those that say 'and for that reason I'm out' and actually pack up and go, and thinking that they are copping out of being a grown up.  

Its the plague of the white middle class woman (and man) of a certain age - have a full and busy life, get a bit bored, get a LOT bored, try some new stuff, still feel bored, and decide that the only solutions is a 180 of life as we know it.  (yeah OK so I am a bit jealous of people who have the nerve to do that even if they don't have the means or the sense not to....).   

Its end of year - everyone is busy and stretched right?  My life is not non stop excitement - and I kind of miss the 'damn it let's do it' lifestyle I have experienced in the past - but it's still pretty full on. Good stuff - people stuff. Good for the soul if only I let it be stuff.   And no, quitting is not an option.  And the stress bunny that sits just inside my ribcage is just going to have to sit tight for a couple more weeks. 

In the meantime, I'm keeping this list handy - just in case I have the time and inclination to act on it's advice....(thanks eponis.tumblr.com, I might even take a selfie)

Life love and leadership - lessons in balance and priority

I have recently embarked on a twelve month course of study at Waikato Management School, and am incredibly lucky to have been offered a scholarship for the whole programme. Following an inspiring introduction evening two weeks ago, I am now in the middle of the first four day 'residential', joining with 19 other leaders evenly split between the 'for profit' and 'for purpose' worlds.

I had some expectation that there would be lots of talk about leadership styles, group dynamics and practical ways to make me a better leader. The first exercise (undertaken a couple of months ago) included a LOT of self evaluation, and a 360 feedback which, although largely positive, had delivered back some (in my view) scorching criticism of my style (read: personality) and I am still smarting from it.  Demanding, impatient, unable to share, over burdened, untrustworthy, single minded and ambitious? Moi??? (ok so no one actually said that verbatim, but as my own worst critic, that's what I interpreted...) - and in fact there was even a session today on not being hard on oneself (point noted)

Anyhoo, the last two days have been delivered by an amazing man, Dr Peter Cammock who has somewhat rocked my world about what being a good leader is actually about.  In fact, there's been almost no discussion about leading OTHERS at all, and the first two days have had a strong focus on the inner self, leading oneself, and concepts like Flow, positive psychology, and understanding the real impact and implications of pessimism and optimism in relation to the question 'are you happy'.  There was lots of  talk about work life balance, and where the overlaps are, should be, and shouldn't be.  We've even done a fair bit of work on mindfulness and practised meditation.

I've been madly scribbling down notes, but also spending a lot of time just listening and letting the information wash (deluge!) over me, and as well as being valuable time out from normal life, I've also had to address a few things that have been niggling me, in relation to my work life. All good stuff!

I've worked out what motivates me (I love to connect people, and I like to be feeling like I'm making a difference), I have identified people who I admire and who have influenced me and why (a raft, but the common threads are their ability to inspire, and also at a personal level those who have given me freedom to be myself, without judging, and those who exude positivity).

I've been particularly struck by the concept of  hedonic adaptation - the idea that even when amazing things happen, eventually we return to the same levels of happiness that were there before the amazing thing - essentially that the highs and lows of life even out over the big picture, but also that this can be the curse of the easily bored - the high of the new can only make one happy for a certain length of time if one is not happy in the first place (current research suggests it can last up to about a year).  A good lesson if I'm thinking about getting bored in a job, or any other pursuit for that matter.

But what has really resonated with me is the idea of life 'opening up' when we are on the right path. All those things like mindfulness, and positive psychology and so on, really are about being settled in myself as a person, knowing who I am and what I want, before I can even consider anything else - essentially being my own leader before I lead anyone else.  I love the idea of a calling, finding a purpose, understanding my place in the world (also all part of to days discussion), and I was really intrigued by the idea that if we don't follow the path that is destined for us (the modern, business friendly term is emergence apparently) that this can explain why so often we never quite feel 'on track', or worse, life seems to be constantly trying to make things difficult for us.  There was discussion about whether every had a calling, and if so, do the distractions and obstructions mean we are not listening to that calling, or simply are not yet aware of it (which makes sense in view of when things just don't seem to be going well day in day out, but also goes some way to explaining those times when life is sweet. Although one wonders - when it goes from great to bad, is that because we got off course (either deliberately or not), or is it simply 'bad luck'? A post for another time perhaps.

All in all, I'm really enjoying the brain gym, the opportunity to meet new yet like minded people, and the pure pleasure of discussion, learning and questioning.  Its hard but its fun.
And finally, my favourite quote of the time so far , which is related to working on my strengths to make then stronger for 80% of the time, and not trying to over focus on, or eliminate my weaknesses (cos that's impossible):
You'll never be great by being barely adequate at what you're currently crap at. 
CELF leadership presenter Dr Peter Cammock.

The little black dog (part two)

Six or so  months ago I wrote about the little black dog who kept turning up at my door.  I think most people figured out that this was not a literal dog, but an analogy originally  coined by Winston Churchill to describe his 'fight' with depression.

Firstly I'd argue that it's not a fight.  I'd say Depression is a wave ...a cloud...it covers you - can threaten to choke you, but it's certainly not something (for me) that involved a great deal of fighting!  Not least because in the midst of a downer, I don't think one has the energy to do very much at all , let alone indulge in a scrap with something that has no form.

But I digress.  Because there was still a fight - its just that the fight for me was not with depression. The fight was internal, having to accept that I might need some 'chemical intervention' and having to swallow my pride enough to go and ask for that.  The Doctor, on hearing my sorry tale (and believe me it was a sorry one, even those I'd tempered it for prides sake more than anything) sat up in her chair and announced  'I can't believe you're still upright' - and then offered me a veritable cocktail of delights - some to help me sleep, others to stay awake, uppers, downers, and in betweeners.  I declined all but one relatively benign option, and then fought with my own handbag as I walked around first with a prescription for two weeks, and then with a wee bottle of innocent looking pills for another two.

But, finally - as much because I'd spent so much stinkin' money on the Doctor and the prescription, as any other reason - I took one of those pills. And another the next day and another the next day. and by day four I was seriously a different person.  Yes it screwed with my sleep patterns, but so what - I was only sleeping about three hours a night anyway, so it just meant I was tired, and wired, at a different time of the day.  And yes, things seems a little...bright...or something - like my senses had been heightened in some weird way. Which maybe they had, in that the cloud had shifted -  it was just a little confusing when I was also feeling, finally, blessedly removed from that cloud I had become almost comfortable under.

After about three weeks things settled down, and I started to feel normal again.  I admit I was a bit slack and missed the odd day of medication but it didn't seem to make a lot of difference provided I got right back in the swing as soon as I realised.  At the one month mark I had to get a repeat, and the Doctor told me that whilst I had noticed an immediate change (and so had she - she was dead right about how deficient my 'insert name here' hormone was), it would take at least three months, possibly six, to see true outcomes and for the meds to be absorbed and sustainably effective

As three months approached I knew I didn't want to go for a another prescription repeat. I felt good, in control, normal (well kind of, I think, maybe).  She warned me against coming off it but agreed it was my choice and that as long as I did it slowly - over the course of two or three weeks, breaking the pills into smaller and smaller bits, and stretching out each dose - and I was monitored by someone who could watch for any changes - she would support the decision.

And so I did.  Three weeks later the meds were out of my system.  It would be fair to say there were a few times in the next couple of months I questioned my decision - maybe I'd done it too early, not least because the issues that had got me to where I was in the first place weren't all resolved.  But by and large I was feeling pretty good.  Stayed busy with normal life, talked (even more than normal) through what was in my head.  Retired some energy sucking relationships and working on developing the ones that were mutually energising.

Now I fear I've turned into a 'go to the Doctor' preachy kind of person.  I have watched a couple of close friends cope with highs and lows (I'm reluctant to diagnose it) and really struggle to get out of the lows.  Maybe they need chemical help, maybe they don't.  Medication alone will not fix problems, and should not be viewed as such, but it can give you enough oomph, or breathing space, or clarity of perspective to be able to move forward and deal with whatever got you to that place in the first instance.  The first step has to be being willing to talk to someone who really knows their stuff and just might be able to help.  That's probably the bit I found hardest. And it was probably the bit I should have done earlier.

What I learnt is that (cliche alert) prevention might be better than cure, and medication might be the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff - but you just can't be too proud to beg.  A hundred dollars on a Doctor and some pills saved my sanity I reckon.  What a bargain.