Back to Life

 The trip is over. I need to kill fifteen minutes before my next meeting. So, here we are. 

I'm in an odd state with jet lag affecting me more than ever. I have not been able to get my nights straight and can't seem to stay awake past seven which has me awake at three. Buh. 

I'm very officially back at work today, Monday. It's so unfortunate that it is the way it is right now. I don't look forward to the mess and the making sense of the mess of people. But this is very much what needs to be done right now - and there are so fucking many cooks in this kitchen. I get exhausted as soon as the smallest thought about it all enters into my head. I

It's sad. A place I used to love so much is just a haunted reminder of a thing that is gone. 

Five days later? 

Wish You Were here is singing from my TV via Spotify. Of course, I think of you Jimmy. How dreamy we were, or was it just the time that was dreamy. You and I couldn't have been more unalike. This album, for all the time it played in the background while we slept, reminds me most of that time it was my birthday and your roommates birthday. You all threw a party for him, and you, for the first time I was aware of, cheated on me right in front of me. Do you remember? I imagine you don't, if for no other reason than you were drunk. I walked in the bedroom while you and your not girlfriend were having a lover's quarrel. I politely said "excuse me, I just want to get my coat." You both, politely?, waited for me to leave before you resumed. How excruciatingly awkward. Her name was Honour, of all things, and she was everything I was not.  

I'm the kind of revenge seeker that requires absolute proof, and I will wait ever so patiently for it. I didn't call you out on anything in the moment because you could have provided some weak denial that gaslit me just enough. Plausible doubt. So, I waited. Who knows when I had stopped drinking - in a sea of drunk 17-19 year olds living like it was their last night on earth, and they were going to take it down with ferocious intent - I was stone sober as I waited for the moment of absolute proof. 

I stayed in the background. Nobody even talked to me, all these people that were supposedly my friends too. I was an actual ghost watching a movie. I was the representation of kind, soft, and good and nobody wants to see when their invested in debauchery, jagged, and bad. So, I quietly trailed behind everyone as the party moved from your house to... somewhere I never ended up. I walked behind you and Honour. You were laughing and signing. I waited for any transgression. You had no clue or desire to know where I was. 

And then your and Honour's hands joined, the lovers. We were at the corner of Fernwood and Bay St by this time, a stones throw away from the apartment I lived in with my kind, soft, and good mother. I can still see this image, this night, so clearly in my minds eye. 

"JIMMY!!!" your name came out of my mouth as a deeply vile screech. I screamed at you from the bottom of my broken heart. You let go of her hand and slid into a bush (of all things to do) so as not to meet my eyes. Drunk and ridiculous. 

I don't know what I screamed after that, but I screamed and ran away from you for fucking ever and ever. It was the weekend of your roommates birthday, which was two days before mine. It was my actual birthday. The year, the night, I turned sixteen. 

But, it wasn't forever and ever, was it? No, it was just the beginning. And now, here I am and there you are. Will you survive? Have you survived? Or are you dead somewhere as I type this? Why is Wish You Were Here playing on my TV? 

Back to life this post is titled. As if I ever left it. All these years later and I'm still the kind, soft, and good person. The one that seems so kind they must be naive. But I never was, I just knew exactly what I wanted. Or, exactly what I didn't want. I didn't want you, not the life you lead. Not the life my future and later husband of twenty years lead. 

I remember my sixteenth birthday fondly. I remember you with a wry smile, silly Jimmy, cheating on me. I love that I got to be a ghost on that night. I loved watching you all when you refused to see me. I'm sure it hurt more at the time, but still I'm sure I remember a small part of me delighting in watching my life unfold in real time and the fact that I got to be so clearly present for it. Ahh, what a gift. 

To this day, I don't know what drew us together or why I still feel connected to you, like we were meant to be but we just got it wrong in this lifetime. You weren't ready to settle down on a farm and have babies, so that was that. I went off and became a professional in the tech world. 

Remember last year when I drove past you at a bus station. I called out your name. You had a hood on and I couldn't be sure it was you, but somehow I knew that body. You looked and called out my name, "is that you" you asked. "Yes!" I felt that answer inside me more than anything. Yes, it's the me that you knew all those years ago, I'm still here as if you were the only person who ever really and truly knew me and now, you could see me too. 

I cried as a I drove away, cried with  a mix of joy and sadness. My name on your tongue - is that you - trailing after. Yes, it's me and it's you, too. 

Day 16, Portugal (to Greece): Take the Stairs

 It’s my last day with my friend. Last night two of her friends joined us and it was a celebration. 

How fun to be across the world and have two other friends drive up as if meeting for coffee across the world. How lovely. 

But how drinky they were. How very drunk they got. How very in excess they felt. A gluten of laughter and wine - I wanted to apologize for the laughter and the space they were taking up, these ladies of life. 

To my surprise, every server we had thanked them for brining this energy and said, “Please come back! We love how much you are enjoying yourselves.” 

I find happiness for them, but it is not my life. This trip has shown me grace in appreciating the nature of my biological make-up. My nature (vs nurture).

My body wakes up early, so I curate a life that makes sure I find that agreeable. I don’t fight it by forcing myself to live a life that compromises feeling at my best when my body comes to life.

I’ve seen on this trip the choices I made early on that, appeared to me to be, unpopular or boring, and I’ve seen - appreciated - that I was brave enough to make them anyways. I thank younger me for trusting my intuition on what was best for me. 

A thought came to mind today: Those that lack the burden of wisdom and accountability for themselves in this world are the privileged. 

Today’s people of tomorrow talk a lot about privilege. Like a number of other mistakes in their language of choice, they are wrong in how they see privilege. They would see me as privileged, yet I carried the burden of knowing nobody was going to do a god damn thing for me. They would have let me die on the streets if that was the choice I made. It doesn’t really matter how pretty that street is,  how pretty your deathbed is or is not, death is death. To wake up and understand with the grace of surrender and learn that you and you are alone are accountable to you is the accomplishment of a lifetime and not easily won. 

Sure there are those that are born into a different type of privilege, such as money, but I can imagine that their life’s pain is relative. We all struggle with connection to a life lived well. 

I don’t live a life of privilege. I am well because I life a life aligned to my highest nature. That is not a privilege, it is the name of the game. It is what I am supposed to do. It is… my job.  

My dream right before waking up today was me getting into an elevator. On that elevator was a man, probably my age, he had a husky, strong frame but looked like a easy going traveller type, casual business like. The door closed and he said, “What would you ask of me?”

Surprised, I responded curiously, “Sorry?” 

“We keep crossing paths,” he said, “there must be a reason for it, what is it that I can do for you?”

I found him interesting, intriguing. I had a delighted cosmic smile and I entertained his idea. He did look familiar perhaps? 

Then he moved towards me, I can recall is thin, navy blue puffy jacket with some white insignia on the left breast. He was tall and obviously stronger than me. He cornered me and said, although we had not met before, “I will call you…. [my name]” as he cornered me, as if he was my destiny. 

In the dream, in the elevator, I said, “oh fuck”

It was then I realized I hadn’t pressed the button for the floor I needed and that he had pressed the floor -1. As we arrived at that floor,  he pressed the stop button. I was stuck. 

I made a move under his arm to not be cornered, but I was still caged so he just calmly turned around, knowing he had his prey, and began to unbutton his pants. He knew what he wanted from me… and I knew he was going to shove that thing in my mouth.

I wasn’t so scared though. I began to press at my Apple Watch, trying to trigger the emergency function while wondering if we were down to low in this elevator to have service. And if there was no service, my brain was doing the math and I just calmly acknowledged the probability of outcomes with, “fuck…” because I knew the worst case scenario was that I going to endure yet another asshole fucking me - and that I would survive it. 

I don’t know quite what to make of this message. I did wake up with a big mental note of being aware of my surroundings (had he been following me around? How did he know my name so that he could pose as my cosmic destiny) and - at the very least - not taking any elevators.  Also, perhaps a gentle reminder that no man (or - no one, no other ) will be the key to my destiny. That’s a lie. 

Day 14 & 15, Portugal

 I don’t have much to say, this trip has been a pretty perfect adventure, and here’s to it staying that way. Today we head on to Lisbon where I’ll have my last two days my friend before I head to Greece. It’s been a very lovely travel time. We’ve been well suited travel buddies. 

The question for me is how much is this improving my headspace work stress wise? It’s been very nice to be away from the chaos. As in an infinite amount of very’s. I’m not sure my brain has completely returned to something sustainable, the looming return to chaos is ever present, but I’m not worried about it. It just exhausts me in advance.

It’s day fifteen now, the next day. I fly to Greece tomorrow and my inner brain knows that this leg of the journey is coming to an end and I’m grateful. I can’t wait to be in once place for more than two days. 

My friend has two of her friends joining her today, so I will be with them for one night and, man-oh-man, am I projecting a lot of nervous anticipation. Their energy together is very frenetic. It’s an energy that sets off all my alarm bells. I cannot relax around it. So, my last night, I’m afraid, will be one of high alert.

Also, for funsies, while pulling my suitcase off the overhead bin on the train, I dropped it on my face, my occipital bone to be exact. So I have an eye headache, swelling and bruising. Very light, but sore nonetheless. Oh, to be in that little house by the beach with, hopefully, sun and heat. And to be with my friend who’s quiet and contained - not frenetic, not unpredictable. 

So far on this trip, we have drank a lot of wine and eaten, and I’ve enjoyed it. It’s been low key for the most part with a couple of nights of excess, but in a good way. The two that are coming have a history of way more excess then I’m used too. I’m hoping they’ve matured a bit more on the hard core drinking and the night is somewhat chill. 

When I’m in Greece, the drinking will return to a single class of wine at night for me with lot’s of walking/hiking during the day. Healthy stuff. Nice easy pace. Calm. 

Day 9

 From Paris, to Barcelona, to Madrid, and now Granada, all in nine days. I have two more days in Spain and then we’re off to Portugal for four days, and then I fly over to Greece for another five days. It should be hotter there, which will be welcome

Being on “vacation” is such a busy thing. So this is not a vacation, it’s a trip. These are different things.

There’s not a lot of time to think and reflect on a trip, it’s just hustle, bustle, with a combo of intense alert and then relief when you’re at your bnb. Hopefully, now that we’re in smaller towns, this will relax. The big cities were… big. 

So what do I think? I talked with my daughter, who is house/niece sitting, and she said, “you have a hard life” referring mostly to my niece. I do have a hard life and I suppose I make it look easy. Stressful work all day and compartmentalizing my nieces well being (or lack there of). After years of  service for my family, I have grown a muscle that doesn’t even question “the load” I carry. That’s the same for all/most mothers (and/or full time, hands-on parents). That’s life and I’m grateful for it.

I can’t wait to see my friend-in-life in Greece. He feels like home and that makes me question things too. I think it’s been good that we stopped living together, certainly with adding my niece into the mix, but I’m starting to see a bit more clearly how he fits into my life. 

I do find myself longing for a romantic type of relationship - and that is not him and I at this point - but I am questioning what that means now as I long to just be comfortable with him. Him who I can be myself with. I just want to see him and hug him. 

When I return, nothing will have changed.  I will be walking into the same chaos, sitting on my couch at night, knitting my way back to calm. That’s not such a bad thing, I think? 

What would I like? I would like build my own software, own my work more, and make a good living with people that I love. Set the pace of the work to something gentle, creative, and helpful. 

Not At Work

 This morning has me waking up in Madrid. I’m travelling with one of my oldest friends. We’ve never travelled together before and I think we’re pretty good as of eight day. We have six days left and 3 more places: Granada, Seville, and Lisbon. Our feet are killing us, we’ve walked an average of 10k every day, which is solid but not shocking. We walk, we see, we stop to eat/drink and then walk some more. 

The weirdness of not being home and being with someone you don’t spend a a lot of time with day to day is setting in. I find myself wondering if her tone is showing her annoyance with me. The kind of annoyed that I think people get and I don’t care, because it’s them that is annoyed, not me. And I think my not caring about who I am makes it more annoying. 

I mean, I can see/feel their annoying things too, but I don’t say snarky things. But some people need to express their shit in this way. It’s taken me a very long time to understand that it’s not a me thing. 

What I need to remind myself of most of all is not letting this bring me down for one second, because I’m on vacation - I need this vacation. I need to embrace everyday that I am not working 

I’m so glad to not be working, it’s become such a tense environment when it doesn’t need to be. Our VP of tech is driving me the most nuts. Again (as in, yet another leader that doesn’t understand), he doesn’t understand the platform well and he consistently calls it a piece of shit. There is a reason our platform was selected as the main system, because it’s got the best foundation and logic, but he can’t see this. AND he actually cites how the other systems are better than ours. Ugh. 

And then we have the new “product advisor” from the investor side and he’s positive as shit about how “exciting this is” and it is. He’s not wrong. But he’s also in a bubble with the VP and I can’t tell how impactful this may or may not be. 

Furthermore, I don’t feel I’m showing up as a “leader” like I should be? But I also don’t want this, not in the way that it’s unfolding right now. I want a good product that our customers can use effortlessly. So, I know what rooms I need to be in. I need to be building this team - and apparently get overlooked in the process - maybe? I just don’t know how to be a person that advocates for recognition. But I also think there is a better way to do it then forcing myself in the rooms of men where I haven’t been invited exactly. 

I hope that my friend and I can actually build something. I had a good idea that I shared before the vacation, I hope she’s excited enough about it to look into it more while I’m gone. How wonderful would it be for both of us to be back in product together, her with the business acumen and me with the product and people skills, both of us doing what we enjoy and having security and a voice.  What a marvellous future for us both.  

I wonder what today will bring for my friend and I.  I think we’re both getting tired. I hope it’s smooth and lovely. I want to push the energy around to make room for smooth and lovely. 

I also look forward to meeting up with my other dearest friend in six days. There I will feel at home with him. There we will be at home in Greece. 

Feel the fear and do it anyways

 I feel fear. If I'm to stay out of my mind and focus on what's going on in my body, I'm afraid. 

I'm afraid of the bubble I'm currently in bursting and I'm afraid it wont burst. 

I'm afraid of not feeling content with my life situation or my life. I'm afraid I will never be able to experience generalized joy. That I will only maintain generalized anxiety. 

I'm afraid this feeling of fear will never go away. That I will always feel like I'm under achieving to my responsibilities of being a mother, an aunt, an employee, a person, a citizen, and a friend.

I think this writing is not to figure out the why of this, but just to be honest with myself that these are my feelings (thoughts?).

I am afraid.

The Balance Formula

The life:effort formula for balance: 

 90% personal experience and growth, 10% societal machine (work); where 10% returns >= 10x of itself.

It appears I might be killing it at work? I don't know what to make of this. Well, some part of me doesn't know what to make of it. The rationale part of me just wants to nod and say "great, let's keep going" while another part wants to ruminate about how this could be possible. How can I be the director of product and be killing it???? That does not fit the narrative. 

I have to let the rich little poor girl go.  Maybe I can just retire her? Let her go to the farm she wants? Let her wander the universe? 

Rise

 If I were to write the story of our start up to break out SaaS, what would I focus on? What would be my hook, what would the flavour? Comedic by the minute, drama by the season? Would it be driven by an ego/equity focus? Am I looking for redemption? The answer to that is yes to a large degree - but in the end, is that what tells the story? Who is the protagonist and who are the people we want to focus on? 

I think if it was to be a meaningful story, the driver would have to be the inequity. Which is currently appalling in many cases. The story of two key female players that are initially empowered by the bright and insightful CEO, but then are overlooked and out numbered by the influx of male bravado hired to "get the start up to the next level"

• What got us here wont get us there
• 10x baby!
• Old guard vs. new guard
• OG's
• Some people are better in start ups and can't make the switch to the growth stage
• The wrong leaders in the wrong places
• Undermining historical context
• Maybe 5x... ?
• Crumbling infrastructure 
• Mistrust
• More wrong leaders in the wrong places
• More mistrust
• Doubling down on undermining historical context 
• More mistrust
• 
  

there is a story here, but I can't find an angle that I like. 

What's interesting today is that we might be in a bit of the scorpion and the frog scenario. With the help of a capitol partner, we've merged with one of our more friendly competitors with a common goal of beating out our shared major competitor. Our capitol partners - as luck would have it - has relationships with some former key players from the major competitor. In fact, now that the deal is done, in addition to the former COO of [major competitor] there is also a CPO and sales leader from [major competitor] coming in to "help us get to the next level and go beyond [major competitor]. However, my spidey senses say that our major competitor has simply outsmarted us. We'er quite possibly on the road to being absorbed/bought out by them. They are the scorpion. We are the trusting frog. 

That would be the story's end. All the work that these humble people put in to getting to a place, succeeding as a saas company, and passing our competition is made moot by this merger (turned acquisition). It's all for not in the end?

All that aside, I find I'm feeling a little listless this weekend. I'm tapped out on the hype of it all. There is so much work to be done and we have so much drama under the hood. It's silly and embarrassing. 

What I would like is to go to work with wonderful people with whom I collaborate with to solve fun puzzles for interesting people. We laugh at the craziness of our ideas, but then we turn them into innovation. We turn our ideas into beautiful, simple logic. That's what I love. 

But today, the reality is that I am tired and a little sad. Something is passing through me. There is a letting go, an undoing. A passing. 

I think of my mom often these days (hi mom 👋 !), I think she's really present lately. There's something in the air. A shift. If I ask, what do I hear? A ship keeps coming to mind... "hold fast" is the word connected to the sense I'm getting. Things are going to be fast and it is meaningful for me to hold on and keep my bearings. There's a calm afterwards that is of great value to me, in that it sets up the next stage of my life. 

I have to remember that it's okay to be low on energy, that is just a sign that I need to balance my mind and actions. Right now, I would like to simplify. I think I'm trying to hold too much together, everything is priority number one and I am on high alert. I would benefit from changing that. I will walk slowly. Slow my breath, keep my eyes open and keep moving forward calmly and creatively. 

💡

What are the times in between writing all this stuff out? What are the highs and lows made of? There's a trend here, I'm sure. Is it change? Shifts of growth? The time before big decisions that need to be made? Is this feeling of anxiety simply the plant protruding from the seed and wanting to push through the ground with no idea of what'll face on the other side? 

I booked my trip for the fall, and I would expect that to cause anxiety. Perhaps it's far enough away from reality that instead of anxiety, it feels like pending relief from my job.

Tomorrow I will be joining my 'peers' on a celebratory offsite. It's the senior leadership team - the C's and VP's, a few key Directors (which includes me?) - sequestering themselves to: revel in a job well done and strategize about the months to come. Yeah, that makes me want to puke. Even my hands want to start shaking a bit. 

I don't belong here feels like a deep knowing that fuels dread. Then, I recall a therapist that the main husband and I went to see once. That husband was talking about his feeling that - given his past - he didn't deserve all that he had, a wife and children. To my shock, the therapist said "you don't." 

I think I even laughed a surprised ha. The therapist explained that no one deserves anything. "But" he followed, "you have it, nonetheless."

Knowing what your afraid of is helpful. How can you know that turning the lights on will make you feel better if you don't know you're afraid of the dark? Huh. That might be one of more profound things I've realized I didn't realize. 

I'm afraid of the dark. And what is ahead of me professionally doesn't have anything I've ever seen before. It's completely foreign. I'm absolutely in the dark. I'm having a very visceral response to this epiphany. My body is heating up, my arms feel weak, and there are slight waves of nausea. If I inspect it, I'm both nervous and excited. 

I'm not dying, I am alive. 

I'm in the line up at the fair. I don't know (trust) if the ride I'm lined up for is safe. It's a gamble of sorts. Yet, I know the ride will not kill me - not physically anyways. it's not life threatening. It's lifestyle threatening. 

I don't want to be rich. Rich as in those people rich. I don't want to be one of those people, and I'm terrified that in my goal for financial freedom, I've found myself in the line up for the wrong ride. This ride is not steeped in humble goodness. 

I grew up on the mean streets of the Shires ghetto and it's legacy is written within me: 

• People like us don't get to cross over
• People like us don't want to cross over
• We practice solidarity to our kind
• Being one of them means you're vapid, stupid, and selfish
• You must stay humble, keep your heart close to the ground
• The air is cleaner - more honest - down here
• Don't be too smart for your own good. This is the advice I rebuked. 
  

Obviously, this is sounding painfully close to the narrative of my current read:Wool. Am I attracted to this book because it mirrors my own thoughts and feelings? My own trajectory? 

"I don't belong here" is only true because it's not a question of belonging or not. You just are where you are. You are (I am) going to have to deal with it. I could get stranded on an island and weep because I don't belong there, but that's not going to help. 

And if this situation, this current trajectory, is that island; well, I'm not stranded. I can leave anytime I want. This is a party I'm attending. I'm standing outside the house in the rich part of town wondering if I'm going to have fun while a keen sense of knowing is hinting that I will not like this crowd. 

I'm choosing to be curious about it. I'm not walking into a house of bullies. I'm walking into a house of a type of folk I've never gotten to know. There may be times where they are thoughtless, but if I turn the lights on, I'll see that they simply know not what they do. I wont be a victim, I would just be a witness, unscathed. It's only if I walk in with the lights off that I may get hurt. 

I'm an explorer from the other side. I'm well equipped to survive. I can explore this world a little bit longer. I will leave when I want to leave. 

I imagine an older version of me, my career days long behind me, looking back at this time and, with a nostalgic smile, telling herself, "if only I'd known that those days were the exciting parts, the fun rides. If only I hadn't been so afraid of them. If only I had raised my arms in the air and embraced the joy of being alive." 

Maybe I do that lady a solid - at least once? 

I had to read the last post to remember that I already decided not to question my lack of umph. But, I'm here to dig more regardless. 

I'm curious as to why I feel at odds with my surroundings. I'm tired of my furniture, it reeks of the life I grew up in. It's my mother in me. I've remade the home that she made. I did this because I loved growing up in it. But now, I loath it. Like somehow, it was a lie. It was a lie then and an even bigger lie now. 

I scan homes that I could buy and I imagine my "new" self in them. Then I will be at peace. I shop online for a new look: furniture, clothes. But when I find a home or look that I like, the excitement is replaced by revulsion in split second. What thought took place in that micro second that sent from Yes! to belly that screamed no... that is not the answer. It's bad. 

What's the psychology here? Am I stopping myself from enjoying life in a way that I can now afford because: 

• I think I don't deserve it? 
• It's a betrayal of where I've come from to be seen as 'rich'?
• It's not 'me'
• I know or think it wont fix me? I am unfixable, so don't waist money

All of the above are true in their own way. And this god damn change in my hormones is not helping any of it. 

This is the bullshit that is. Where are all the crones at? Can you tell me if I have to take HRT or if my body will level out again? Can I wait this out? 

50 and Crashing

This age range: where your hormones are slowly ghosting you, you don't recognize your budding crone-self in the mirror, but you've finally hit your professional stride, but your parents are aging, dying or dead, and your kids are grown up but there's still a very blurry line between them needing you and not needing you - it's a lot. 

Obviously, my world is spinning. Obviously, I'm going to say whoa, can we take a break here? I think I'm going to be sick. And obviously, there doesn't appear to be a lot of hope for it. It's a lot and all I can do is keep my eye on the horizon and ride this storm out. 

All this to say that it makes sense that I'm sad on the deep down inside. I'm sad and it feels really reasonable to allow the sadness some room to explore itself with quiet reflection - which often looks like me starring into the abyss from the couch. 

In the face of societies self help, gratitude having, live your best life marketing machine, staring into the abyss from your couch doesn't sound like the right choice. Yet, my inner voice is clear. Be still, be sad. 

In exercise's corner, I have a better sleep when I drag myself out for a long, still sad and reflective, walk. Given that sleep is my one true "stop the world, I want to get off" friend, I do my best to drag myself out for an exhaustive walk. Exhaustive walking seems to be part of the good medicine for elevating my sadness. 

Hitting my professional stride means that I can afford to pay for a foot massage after the long walk. 

These are the things I do now, and I do them with a heavy heart. 

I think it's supposed to be heavy. I shouldn't try and stop that. I should listen - hear - it. It's okay to be sad. In a world that tells you that sad means something's wrong, it's hard to accept that. I'm slowly accepting it. 

I am sad.

Sad makes you tired, sad zaps creativity, sad diminishes the appetite, sad excludes community. Sad is a rest stop that begs for your attention. You need it. Take the rest. 

Trust yourself that you wont stay here longer than you need to. Have faith  that you will find a way to be a  good friend to the process, and that your energy will be restored.

Go ahead, crash.