Archives for posts with tag: change management

In spite of the heat I spent some time in the garden yesterday (before it got too hot, in the cooler morning hours). I happily watered and weeded, and reflected on the chaos that has arisen over weeks of hot weather, busy work days, and other shit that just had to get done. Time is a limited resource, and so is the energy I’ve got available to get things done with.

I found myself doing what I tend to do when I observe chaos creeping further into my day-to-day experience; I made a list. I took some notes. I contemplated the varying levels of urgency and the considerations driving that.

The chaos in my garden.

There are peas dry on the vines ready to harvest for next year’s planting. There are carrots ready to harvest, and favorite salad greens that bolted in the heat (may as well harvest those seeds, too). The deer were haphazard with their “helpful” pruning of tomatoes, but I’ve still got a few tomatoes ripening, hidden in the greenery. Thirsty roses want deeper watering, and need a bit of pruning. There is so much weeding to do. Work had gotten busy, and I had gotten tired with other every day tasks on top of that, and I fell behind on several of the things the garden needs to thrive and be beautiful and productive. Our choices have consequences. Now I’m faced with those; I put my attention on work (for a job that I won’t be doing any longer) and let the garden go a bit wild, and the weeds remind me that my own choices allowed them to thrive.

I’m neither mad nor frustrated. The garden manages to be lovely regardless, and I enjoy my time spent there, even on a muggy summer morning before the heat of the day sets in. There are roses blooming at the edge of the lawn (at least one of which does not know the meaning of “winter” and will likely bloom all year) and it delights me to pause along the walk to see them there in the sunshine, drops of water glittering on the edges of colorful petals after morning watering.

“Baby Love”, blooming in the summer heat.

I spent the day contentedly creating order from chaos. I find it a useful practice for reducing background anxiety and stress. Chaos in my environment tends to result in chaos in my thinking. Tidying things up, clearing out clutter, and working down a list of tasks that need doing has proven to be a really good practice for managing my stress and anxiety. When those tasks are specific to supporting my own needs as an individual, it also feels like self-care. Conveniently enough, there nearly always seems to be something to do that meets those needs. lol Laundry. Dishes. Hanging up the various pairs of earrings that have managed to find some random resting place here or there in the house. Putting books away. Filing paperwork that has stacked, waiting to be filed. Dusting. Pulling weeds in the garden and from the flower beds as I pass by on my way to some other task or destination. It quickly becomes a form of meditation, when I stay engaged with the task and present in the moment, and don’t allow myself to “wander off” in my own head.

All along the way, task by task, hour by hour, there are moments of wonder, delight, and beauty that turn up to be savored and enjoyed. A colorful display of flowers. A lingering romantic hug with my Traveling Partner. A beautiful blue sky. I make a point of really enjoying these (and so much more) whenever they occur. Another sweet way to reduce stress and anxiety; really being present for moments of joy and beauty and savoring them. It matters so much to allow myself to be delighted, even for an instant.

A colorful display of flowers in the summer sun, at the grocery store.

I am never too busy to enjoy something beautiful. (I find myself wondering when I’ll next be in the city… maybe I can work in a trip to the art museum?)

Change can feel so incredibly chaotic. The loss of familiar routines feels disruptive. Managing the stress and the anxiety that can come with change can feel overwhelming – until I break things down into smaller pieces, and create order from the chaos one task at a time. Breathe, exhale, relax – like any practice, there are steps, and I’ve got to do the work myself to experience the results (otherwise, we’re just having a conversation about it, eh?).

I sip my coffee as the sun rises. I won’t be watching that from this office window much longer… Change is. Jobs end. We are mortal creatures, and however tightly we cling to some experience, or person, or moment, we will face the reality of impermanence sooner or later. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. Reality will be what it is without regard to our thoughts or feelings about it. Practicing non-attachment has tended to make me more practical about change – and chaos, and I no longer take such things so personally. I’ll take a new breath, and I’ll begin again. Really, what else is there to do?

For now, I sit with the quiet, and this good cup of coffee, and I look over what needs to get done today. I make a plan. I smile when the thought of my beloved Traveling Partner crosses my mind for no particular reason; he is a steady presence in my life whether we’re in the same room or not, and I am grateful to be so loved and supported. I reach out to a friend via email wondering if they have time to get together for a coffee sometime soon? It’s the relationships that matter most, in work and in life.

A hazy dawn, a row of birds gathered on a powerline.

I sigh to myself, feeling this contentment and practicality like a firm foundation beneath my feet. I’m okay right now, for nearly all values of okay, and that’s enough. The future is unwritten, and I can’t see where this path leads… but this feels like a good place to begin, again.

I am here, now, this moment, this place. I very much want to be… somewhere. Else? I leave myself a note for later, “Write about being vs yearning.” I move on with my day.

January 30th, 2022

I wrote those words at the end of last year, saved it as a draft thinking I’d mull it over and reflect on the feeling further, over time. I had no idea that the time it would require would be 573 days, or that so much would happen in the time since then. The feeling itself was so vague it was hard to ascertain “what it meant” – or how “seriously” to take it. I felt it so deeply I was filled with an urgency to act… somehow. I guess, as I continue to reflect now, it doesn’t seem so surprising that since then I’ve walked on from two different jobs (under peculiarly similar circumstances that weren’t to do with me directly in any useful way). I’ve also put more attention and love into my garden. I’ve put more study, practice…and frustration… into my relationship with my Traveling Partner… More presence into other relationships (if not more time)… More commitment into my self-care… More work and fond effort into my life, generally, I suppose… More attention on my health and fitness. I don’t see, from this vantage point now (with a head cold on a summer Saturday evening, filled with ennui… and snot), that all this change, and effort, and… interesting chaos… has done much to take me further than where I sit right now. I chuckle to myself; human vanities and limited human perspective are what they are. I’m very human. I sip my mug of hot water, grateful that it feels so soothing (and strangely satisfying).

I suppose the tl;dr of the day-to-day recently is that I’ve been sick with this ick for about a week, and mostly resting and hanging out with my Traveling Partner (who had been sick himself, but is now mostly well, hanging out and caring for me while I get over it, too). Haven’t felt much like writing. Haven’t felt up to it. Haven’t felt inspired to share my vapid rather pointless stream-of-consciousness dithering and mental chatter. Just sick. Just hanging around using up tissues, forcing fluids, and napping. It’s been a surprisingly pleasant (and sometimes deep) few days, watching a favorite old sci-fi series together and talking. I’ve been fussy and sometimes unpleasant or unfit to be around – this one has hit me hard in the cognitive places, and my emotions are volatile and unsteady at times. My Traveling Partner loves me fiercely in spite of it, and it’s been good to see his deeply worried face begin to give way to mild impatience that I’m still sick, as I begin to improve. It’s hard to bear witness to a loved-one’s suffering. We’re both less worried as I improve.

…But, now that I’m “mostly over it”, I’m beginning to feel fussy and impatient with myself. It’s easy to become frustrated with how sick I still am feeling. I shrugged it off a few moments ago, and took a seat in my studio, to write for the first time since the last time. (August 17th, 9 days ago) Not knowing quite where to begin, I looked over my drafts. Found this one, which seemed both relevant, prescient, just a little comical – and a whole lot human – and figured this is as good a place to begin again as any other.

So I begin. Again. I sip my water, and consider my thoughts.

Life is calling. Take your chances. What matters most?

It’s been an interesting time, these past 3 weeks or so. Losing my job has been the least interesting thing about it. More interesting was the visit by my Traveling Partner’s son, and the couple of days at home alone that resulted from the camping trip my partner took with him. More interesting were the projects they did together in the shop, and the evenings of playing a new (to me) dice game that resulted from it. More interesting was the dinner party with my partner’s older brother and his family, in our home – our first actual family dinner as a group together (it was lovely and a lot of fun). More interesting was taking my step-son to breakfast and then going to the beach his last day in town before returning home. Hell, even waking up to discover I’d caught this damned cold, the morning I took my step-son to the airport was more interesting by far than losing my job. lol All of it also more “important” – more real. Lived experience. Life. I’ve been enjoying that so much of my time is my own.

I sip my water and remind myself to make a point to stay aware of this detail as I consider other employment; it feels good to live my life, not just frustratedly snatch this minute or that one to wedge it in between work shifts or tasks.

…It’s a metaphor…

I look over my recent pictures. I’m reminded of this or that project. Some commitments I’ve forgotten while being sick return to my awareness (I’m obviously getting well… LOL). I keep sipping this mug of hot water, thinking my thoughts.

…I’m almost out of tissues in here. It’s clearly time to begin again.