birthday wishes DO come true

Dared I wish it...a repeat visit to Penland this summer? Turns out b'day wishes do come true, thanks to my hubby. His generous support of my art is what really got me, though -- he gets it, or at least is open to what's possible.

lessons in change

As I fumed into the phone last night at the woman from East-West Logistics who shipped our Buddha statues from China, I paused to note the irony of it all. It occured to me that I was way too attached to the outcome of whether or not we'll pay extra fees to extract our treasures from the Port of Baltimore.

My attachment to outcomes seems to be showing up a lot these days. Whether it's my controlling insistance that all other living creatures in the household live up to my standards of homekeeping, or my temptation to do an end-run around my husband's reasonable resistance to me dropping everything to pursue a career in the arts...detachment and patience are elusive friends.

The I Ching tells me I should not act out of frustration, anxiety, despair, or desire to escape the situation. Instead, I'm to still myself and look for the lesson hidden inside the difficulty. I'm to correct my attitude until it is open, detached, and unstructured...abandon my goals and stay on the path, where I'm to proceed step by step.

For a girl who likes to plan and get on with it, this is going to be quite the challenge.

no geographic fixes

I don't want this to be my Denver. Let me explain...

Almost 2 years ago, my husband and I seriously considered uprooting and relocating to Denver. We were overwhelmed by the cost of housing in the DC market and were looking at all options. The "easier" path of getting more for our money and exactly what we wanted was very alluring. Never mind it required a complete reboot of my small business and leaving our support network behind.

The real issue, however, was fear of making the tough decisions and executing them with commitment and discipline so that we could get what we wanted: a home of our own that we loved here in DC. When we finally dug in to do just that, we landed nicely. While I'm guessing that we could have made Denver work, I believe we may have continued to run from the issues we really needed to face.

So is my increasingly strong draw towards a career in the arts my new Denver...or an important transformation not to be diminished or pushed underground?

I don't know enough yet, but the topic is on the table and out in the open around here. Finally. I've been carrying it around for over a year now, telling myself this is just a hobby...something to do in my spare time. But it's time to start airing this thing, this pull, this magnetic yet natural draw I feel to reclaiming my artist self.

Question is, can I do this without completely reinventing my life? Haven't I done enough of that already? Yes, and...maybe this is what's next. Maybe now that the dust has settled and I've got some stability, I can look around for my heart's desire. And maybe I can do it in a way that's not dramatic, does not cause unnecessary chaos or hardship, and that still keeps me grounded as a responsible and contributing member of a marriage.

That doesn't preclude there being some angst as this topic is aired around here. Far form it. But I trust that more than I would unquestioning support or codependent compliance. For this not to be my geographic fix, I must face and address the things that challenge me most.

not so far and away

Have finally recovered from wicked jet lag and accompanying cold, post-China trip. Have not recovered from the perspective-altering, mind-shifting experience of this trip - and hope I never do. It was everything I'd hoped for and far more. Surprise after surprise appeared, some delightful, others disturbing, all eye-opening.

The world feels smaller and I now feel connected to a land and people so far away...all this from only a 10-day visit. Maybe it's because we sought out experiences and interactions beneath the touristy surface. That, and indulging my thirst for all things paper, print and book art. For a taste, here are images of some of my favorite things.

far and away

Zhe Gu Tian Silkscreen, 240×430 cm, 2007We leave for Beijing tomorrow. There's much about this trip that I look forward to, my first to Asia.

Aside from just the sheer cultural experience, I'm particularly excited about an invitation to visit the studios of the China Central Academy of Fine Arts from printmaker and book artist Leilei Guo.

attachment

Apparently, getting hit by a 2x4 was the only way I was going to learn that, indeed, I can't control the universe. This includes holding onto or otherwise attempting to "protect" what I have right now. Living the good life - and by that I mean a relatively carefree, abundant, drama-free life - is not guaranteed, no matter how much yoga, acupuncture, therapy and mediation I do. Crap will continue to rain down, regardless of how hard I try to keep my eye on every little thing I've been learning that's turned my life around these past 5+ years.

That's the irony: in the process of keeping my eye on "every little thing" (aka, attempting to ward off the bad stuff), I took my eye off what matters most: to not get attached to what is. So despite trying so hard to "do it right," it's not about preventing what I fear through "right" living. It's about understanding that nothing is permanent and that there's no insurance to protect me from what life brings - just reassurance that this, too, shall pass.

I do believe these tools are getting me closer to "turning it over." I just didn't realize how much I needed the extra push.

books transformed

Su Blackwell's "The 12 Dancing Princesses" (2007)I recall my reaction the first time I learned about altered books: a mix of shock, guilt and curiosity. It somehow felt wrong to tear into, cut up or otherwise transform an object I'd always revered as sacred, or at least precious. But how my take on this has shifted! Su Blackwell's work covers the sacred, precious and downright beautiful. I love how she describes her work, which resonates for me in many ways:

It is the delicacy, the slight feeling of claustrophobia, as if these characters, the landscape have been trapped inside the book all this time and are now suddenly released.

grounded truth

Spent the day with my 15-year old niece today. We went to the Spy Museum and lunch, her choice. At the end of the fascinating, educational and all around excellent exhibit we watched a movie, Ground Truth. It tells the story of how espionage is now playing a major role in a very different 21st century war - no longer targeting one major "dragon" (the Soviet Union), but now tracking intel from countless smaller and more dangerous "serpents" (terrorists). Knowing, from an insider's perspective, what's happening "on the ground" is the name of the game. An arm's-length relationship to the action interpreted through satellite photos is not enough.

On the metro ride home, we got to talking about this blog - having just "friended" me on Facebook, we were discussing the trickiness of boundaries and our online selves in general. When she asked why "designing a life" I told her the truth about its genesis and what I'm trying to do here. Which led to more questions: what did happen back then? Having skirted her questions in younger years, I decided it was time for some gentle honesty, not an arm's-length brush off.

The result was a sweet, connected conversation in which we both opened up and shared. Not inappropriately, but enough that it felt real and like I wasn't hiding something from her, ashamed of my past or treating her like a child. Talking about my whole life - not just its rebuilding - is my ground truth. Denying what was or skirting the issue doesn't make me the kind of role model I want to be for her.

However, compassionately embracing what's true on the ground does.

wake-up call

Got a timely wake-up call yesterday, in the form of losing a contract bid for a major job. Timely, in that I'd been getting a little cocky about a string of wins and didn't see this one coming. Ouch - especially since I was the incumbent. The universe's way of keeping me grounded, it seems.

So after a few minutes of fussing, cussing and blaming, I settled down and started journaling. Here's where I am so far...

I got beat out by a new comer – a 1 (2?) person consulting 8a with government-specific creds and great packaging. I am ultimately very competitive. I hate getting beat out. But this little firm beat me, fair and square. On image, at least. Maybe on competence and results, maybe not. But me smugly “knowing” that they client won’t get as good a result as they would with me does not mitigate the fact that I did not get this contract.

The real question for me now is am I going to really jump in here to compete in a way that will win biz? I know what to do: redo my business website, be crystal clear on what I offer to whom, and compete. Really compete. Not this half-hearted uncommitted approach I’ve been taking. My client work is whole-hearted and totally committed - my effort to "show up fully" in this market is not.

Doing is not the issue. What do I want? It means making a conscious choice. I’m at a turning point, actually. Bite the bullet and compete or don’t. But be very clear I have a choice. Instead of feeling bad or pointing fingers, this is all about me stepping up (or not), and then being accountable for my decision. And being at peace with it. In hindsight, I did see this coming - and by this, I mean a turning point, not the smaller "this" of losing a bid. I just didn't want to deal with it.

This is a wake up call. It’s time to decide. Consider. Choose. Then act.

Losing this bid could be the best outcome, actually. It asks me to pay attention. To stand up and stop playing small, making due with what lands in my lap. It’s not a sustainable strategy for getting what I want: serenity, peace, contentment and joy.

What I'm not clear on yet is the right choice for me now. I need to sit with this. Check in with myself and the small circle of wise mentors and supporters I've learned to both trust and believe. Maybe this is just part of my transition strategy. Could I tolerate it more if I saw it as a means to an end? I know I don’t want to be a big federal contracting firm – if I did, I would be acting to do so.

But can I be successful “enough” to get what I want: the platform and means to other things? Can I make enough of a living and really help my clients, without eating up all of my time or creative juice, to engage enough with the book arts (learn,  create, build relationships) to eventually sell my work, have a studio and teach?

Update on 2008-09-24 13:47 by Kelly O'Brien

Instead of making up stories about why I lost this one, I met with the client. Apparently I was one of two finalists (out of 19 proposals), but lost major points for not including resumes in the proposal package. Huh?! While the contracting officer was angsting about what to do (the client says they really, really wanted my firm to get this), the new-comer appeared at a significantly reduced price. Fearing a protest, they went with the low price.

This story raises several things for me...I'm mortified that I may have lost a 6-figure deal because of an oversight...I'm suspicious that this is not the whole story (there was some back and forth for further details along the way - why not ask for the resume?)...I'm relieved that I did, in fact, stack up to the competition...and I'm grateful that this client has asked me to work with them on another project.

And I'll dig a little more. Will attempt to have an honest conversation with the contracting officer to see what more I can learn.

Update on 2008-09-29 19:37 by Kelly O'Brien

After walking around angry at the world - and taking it out on my husband, dog, clients and friends - for about a week, it finally occurred to me during yoga this weekend that I'm really furious with myself, not them. I'd been sitting on these feelings, petrified of letting the "truth" sink in.

As I move into them instead of denying and acting them out, the lightness, clarity and detachment I'm starting to feel is welcome relief. I'll still have the meeting with the contracting officer this week and learn all I can, but I no longer feel hooked by this experience. 

My work this week is to see if I can cultivate maitri, loving-kindness, for myself. To see what I've done with honesty but gentleness. To see what I do without turning it against myself.

my gal in india

I love a good "system," especially if it means I can delegate something, forget about it and it still gets done (bill paying, housekeeping, retirement investments, estimated taxes, yard care). Oh, the privileged life I live.

Yet when it's come to my all-time nemesis - meal planning and grocery shopping - a palatable system has eluded me. No amount of list making, cooking classes, overspending at gourmet markets or dragging my husband along for company has gotten me to commit, really commit, to ensuring that a reasonable amount of food stays in our house so that we can eat decently. Not even Nigella could seduce me into a habit that would stick. 

Earlier this year, I discovered Tim Ferris' super-organized-outsource-everything-so-you-can-have-a-life philosophy in Four Hour Work Week...and thought, yeah right. Then the fantasy of outsourcing this task floated into my mind and I immediately had to try it. Enter Triveni, my gal in India.

We're in our second week of the experiment. So far, so good - with several good laughs and a few surprises. Here's what I did to get us going:

1. Created a sample 1-week meal plan
2. Created a blank 1-week meal planning chart
3. Created a sample grocery shopping list
   
4. Scanned 20+ of our favorite recipes, plus various links to sites I like for ideas (e.g., easy, quick, good stuff)
5. Re-activated our Peapod account
6. Emailed all of this to Triveni with instructions on how to proceed
   

Turns out I'm not as specific as I think I am, when it comes to giving direction. I also hold a lot of assumptions. My favorite little twist so far was the lovely menu she sent back, jam-packed with enough meals and food (and a shopping list) to feed our household of two, plus all of our neighbors. I also smiled at the mac and cheese with a side salad for breakfast.

With an accumulated hour's worth of back and forth, we got the first order done. This week, it's taking us minutes. Last Saturday, I happily met the delivery at our door and have been enjoying the results:

Virtual Assistant: $10/hour, Online grocery order + tip: $130, Not eating PB&J or cereal for dinner again: priceless

Update on 2008-10-31 20:15 by Kelly O'Brien

A curious turn of events...my gal in India seems to have fired me. After a mysterious attempt to charge my credit card for $214, her "team leader" emailed me to suggest I upgrade to their $200/month level of service. I'd used more hours last month, but haven't used her services for most of October. Today, I got an email that my account has been closed.

Is this their upsell strategy? We'll see what response I get to my reaction, emailed to them this morning: no, you are not authorized to charge me for a new level of service...and yes, I'd like to continue your services at a hourly rate.

But I'm still checking you guys out...a couple of months does not make a relationship.

butterfly effect

I started what I thought was going to be a straightforward project yesterday: a fitted lid box with a double-sided window in the lid, into which I'd planned to display a butterfly I found at Penland.

Only as I started thinking about this particular butterfly, it became clear that I have a lot to say about what happened around finding and being with this little guy as he died.

So instead of whipping out another box, I'm letting this process unfold as it will. So far, it has me journaling about death mostly. Not in a morbid dark way, but in what feels like an honest way...about the people I've been with as they died and what was happening in my life at those times.

This week marks the second anniversary of Maggie's death, my maternal grandmother with whom I was very close. She died on the last day of our honeymoon. I swear, she waited until the wedding and honeymoon were over. It makes sense that I'd feel something now, but I didn't see it coming. Slowing down to listen to the stories my butterfly is asking me to tell is having its intended effect, I suppose.

Update on 2008-08-26 13:27 by Kelly O'Brien

Just learned that this is an 'Astyanax' Red-spotted Purple.

what if...?

In Brenda Belfield's class this weekend at The Art League, Design Rules and How to Break 'em!, I was kicked right out of my comfort zone. I didn't think I'd been at the book arts long enough to know what my comfort zone is, but I discovered in this class that I clearly have one.
Brenda's a world-renowned abstract painter and glass artist, so just taking her class was a leap for me. As she encouraged us to think "what if...?" with all of our initial solutions to the design challenges she threw at us, I clung to what I now see is my comfort zone: sticking to the safety of the grid, a delicate esthetic, minimal patterns, a monochromatic palette. Hmmm...is this how I live my life?
I'm probably being a little hard on myself. After all, I color decidedly outside the lines at times. Yet as her question continues to pop into my head today (and my post-Penland high remains), I'm struck by its application to more than our little art class exercises. What if I really embraced my art? What if I could learn to fully express what I'd like to say through these magical media? What if I could change the world, just a little, with my art? What if I could design a life that, in my wildest (no, I think these are my oldest) dreams, I never thought I could have?
Never mind how for now. Just...what if?

compassion

I was wondering when my ability to feel true compassion for people who challenge or hurt me most would show up. Finally, it's here.

Maybe it's because I've gone to the places that scare me. Years ago, I actually bought Pema Chodron's book twice without realizing it, and then stashed each copy on my bookshelf, unread, after the first chapter scared the wits out of me. The power of the unconscious is humbling!

I finally did read her book about a year ago, but it hasn't been until this summer that a sense of peaceful connection with others has blossomed. Where has this come from? Why now?

Forgiveness (of myself and others) has something to do with it. That's taken a long time. As has allowing my anger -- really feeling it and the heartbreak beneath. I've found a way to my bodhichitta, that soft, tender, vulnerable spot in my heart. The pain I used to run from is no longer unbearable or terrifying, but rather a pure and profound connection to others who suffer.

Another key is discernment. There's a big difference between compassion and enabling or co-dependence. Having over-invested in many relationships, I left myself naively vulnerable to both being taken advantage of or, taking advantage of those who came to my rescue. Yes, discernment and accountability are in the mix here.

And what about my Fire? According to Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) of which I'm a big fan, we are now at the height of Fire in the annual five-element cycle. Fire is about the Heart, center of compassion and joy. My guess is that my Heart Protector (what a great name!) has finally been properly activated under the skilled touch of my acupuncturist.

One last thing. Staying open to, while not forcing or faking my compassion is a piece of this. Arriving on its own terms, I welcome this state of being with a strong heart and open arms.

staying grounded

It's one thing to talk a good game about "finding my center" and "staying grounded." It's quite another to live it. This week has been one reminder after another of how easy it is to lose my footing.

Just when I think I've got it figured out (oh, and am advising a client or friend on how to take care of their stuff), my demons show up to haunt.

In my work to help clients act and decide more consciously, I'm hyper-tuned in to craziness: when the reality of what's happening is somehow being ignored or unseen. And yet it's scary how capable I am of this myself.

Last weekend, my husband and I booked a trip to China for October. We've been wanting to check out Asia for years, so an abundance of frequent flyer and Marriott points lets us go at bargain prices. Then why was I so restless, so disturbed by making these plans? Turns out I've been acting crazy by not taking care of some basic but important priorities. In the past, running off to exotic lands was a great escape. Now, it causes unbearable dissonance if my own house is not in order.

Last night, I started a Staying Grounded List. Both my husband and I are adding stuff to it -- things we each need to take care of, some big (replace the car clutch, fund my SEP-IRA); some small and niggling (track down an order that's gone missing, replace a broken license plate holder). All of these things are about better self-care, giving ourselves a good kick in the rear, and staying grounded in, well...our present reality.

Update on 2008-07-01 17:15 by Kelly O'Brien

We're making progress on taking care of stuff on our Staying Grounded list. Does snapping at my husband to "take care of _____" count? No, I'd say not. However, minding my own unfinished business sure does.

family tree

We have a family of robins in the tree just outside our front door. I can see them from my office/studio, huge mouths open wide on bobbing little heads. Dad and mom robin have been tirelessly bringing worms back to the nest for days now. It never ends. When do they rest?

Yesterday, during a huge storm with high winds, mom sat like a puffed up plug on top of the nest, babies safe below. Through field glasses, I could see her rocking in discomfort as the babies squirmed below, determined to stay anchored and protect her brood from the elements.

My own childhood comes to mind. Dad, tirelessly making sure we had food and shelter. Mom, determined to protect us from, well, everything. They did their best, followed their instincts, and hoped it worked out. In many ways, what they accomplished in raising us is amazing - our family tree is fraught with broken boughs and unhappy nests. And yet that which goes undiscussed and denied has taken its toll.

As I struggle with my own sense of compassion and forgiveness - for my parents and for myself - these little guys give me hope. 

Update on 2008-06-24 21:04 by Kelly O'Brien

Our robin family has left us. The nest is officially empty. They didn't even say goodbye. I guess that's how it goes. So now I peer intently at the robins in our yard...do I know you guys? At least I've got baby pictures.

rocky mountain high

Just returned from five days in Colorado. My husband and I both had business out there, then tacked on a couple of extra days for ourselves. What a potent mix, actually...some intense client meetings with folks stuck in a kind of post-layoff trauma, sublime hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park, lots of great food in Boulder (if you're there, check out The Kitchen and Powell's Sweet Shoppe), and a little spa-pampering to round things out.

Could have done without the lousy, overpriced mani/pedi I got at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. On the other hand, hiking among herds of elk, lunch-stealing chipmunks and countless wild flowers with my hubby was priceless.

sardoodledom

The National Spelling Bee is here this weekend. Apparently, it's a very "in" thing with kids around the world. I guess if you can win this, you've certainly demonstrated your mastery of the English language.

On NPR yesterday, there was a short take on the National Spelling Bee. I love how they focused on kids being kids -- giggling at the word sardoodledum. It means contrived drama. How perfect. For a giggle of your own, here you go...

can you hear the mountain stream?

I've got enlightenment on the mind. Reading Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth, it's hard not to. Yesterday, as my husband and I hiked along a rushing mountain stream (actually, a creek with full-fledged waterfalls in the middle of Shenandoah National Park – who knew?), my thoughts turned to Tolle's story about how the Zen Master tells his disciple to listen for the mountain stream, and then "enter Zen from there."

Shaking off my week of feeling buffeted by a lot of unconscious acting out (clients' and my own), the power of Now -- in this current book, Presence --  feels like a port in the storm. And, hey, it's a lot easier! The timing of this book's appearance on my radar is just what the Zen Master ordered.

I don't make light of these ideas. I take them to heart, in fact. Designing a life is another way of living consciously. My daily task has been to attempt do so, yet it's weeks like the last one that remind me this is a journey.

Right now, this very moment, I'm loving these passages...

There are three ways in which the ego will great the present moment: as a means to an end, as an obstacle, or as an enemy. How do you go beyond a dysfunctional relationship with the present moment? ...see it in yourself, in your thoughts and actions. In the moment of seeing, of noticing that your relationship with the Now is dysfunctional, you are present. The seeing is the arising Presence. With the seeing comes the power of choice. 

Presence is a state of inner spaciousness. when you are present, you ask: How do I respond to the needs of this situation, of this moment? ...instead of reacting against a situation, you merge with it, the solution arises out of the situation itself...then, if action is possible or necessary, you take action or rather right action happens through you. Right action is action that is appropriate to the whole.

The more reactive you are, the entangled you become with form. The more identified with form, the stronger the ego. Your Being then does not shine through form anymore -- or only barely.

Nonresistance, nonjudgment, and nonattachment are the three aspects of true freedom and enlightened living.

My own little satori (flash of enlightenment) for today? Well, several actually:

1. Being judgmental is just a bad habit that I can choose to give up, starting now.
2. After being judgmental, resistance and attachment are my favorite defense mechanisms. I think I'll give them up, too.
3. My attraction to working with archetypes makes sudden sense -- they're a powerful tool for bringing that which is unconscious (and the root of a lot of needless suffering) to light.
4. Compassion and loving-kindness have felt elusive to me until now. I've wanted to feel them, but fear stood in my way, masked as my three favorite defense mechanisms.
5. None of this is new information to me, it's just being presented in a way that I'm ready to move into it at a deeper level. Whatever has opened this up for me -- acupuncture, yoga, accumulated Western therapy, a walk in the woods with my husband -- I'm not afraid.

The idea from Tolle's book that made me smile the most? Something he quotes from Ram Dass: "If you think you are so enlightened, go spend a week with your parents." Which reminds me of my friend Mandy's useful reminder: when we recognize unconsciousness in others and then feel all judgy about it, we're reminded that we're not the Dali Lama yet.  That's okay, though. Because right Now, this very moment, I get it.

embracing doubt

My therapist calls it projective identification. I just feel like I'm caught in a storm, strapped to the mast, trying to keep from being swept up in the drama.

The client who's been making me crazy? Things came to a head yesterday. Just as we were getting somewhere during a meeting with 30 people on her management team (her direct reports, plus theirs), she couldn't tolerate it. As courage grew and elephants-in-the-room were spoken of, it was too much for her to bear. She stomped out, muttering "I can't take these people! I'm going to retire!"

Now we begin.

But for her, she seems to see this as the end. People have finally had enough of the insanity, ready to do something different. To speak their truth instead of avoid the conflict. I'm encouraging her to step into this with them. She's ready to bail.

I've been wrestling with a strange and powerful energy within myself for about 32 hours now, since the big showdown. Not just a mild case of open-eyed self-appraisal, but flooded with anxiety and self-doubt like I've not felt in a long time.

It's like my client's panic and unconscious self-doubt have come to roost in me. I feel like I've been infected...toxic stuff, that I'm physically trying to brush off of me. Cleanse out of me. Wild, huh? A few more sun salutations outta do it.

Or not. Julia Cameron suggests embracing doubt as a sign that the creative process is underway. Yes, we definitely got unstuck yesterday. And that there's a difference between honest self-appraisal in the light of day versus seething self-doubt that grips you in the middle of the night. The antidote to the latter is apparently a little self-nurture (is that why I ate two pieces of cake yesterday?) and a lot of self-acceptance.

Something my client and I could both use to get us through this.