A little perspective

"My experience is what I agree to attend to."

I heard this William James line quoted on NPR a few months ago and it has stuck with me ever since.

It has drawn my attention to the fact that, when it comes to my career, I often allow myself to attend to thoughts or feelings that cloud my ability to appreciate the present.


This is probably because I am a perfectionist. It is easy for me to become ensconced in inconsequential details and I have a hard time performing a task if I know I can't give it all of my energy and focus.


As I have adjusted to a new job over the last few months, I have occasionally found myself on the verge of panic at the thought of completing all the tasks on my to-do list to the best of my ability. At times it has felt that there just aren't enough hours in the day.

On June 17, I wrote in my journal, "Another very busy day. Feeling overwhelmed. I think I am spending more time on some of these tasks than I should, but I am paranoid about making a mistake. Can't seem to wind down in the evenings when I need to."

A week later, I wrote "My mind is racing tonight. No matter how many times I go over my to-do list in my head, it keeps going."

This entry is followed by a list of tasks that seemed insurmountable at the time. But as I read back through the list, I find myself smiling, chuckling at my own overdramatic self.

A to-do list that once seemed daunting now seems perfectly do-able ... and tasks that once stirred my anxieties have now become routine.

This realization -- that once-overwhelming assignments over time become matters of habit -- has caused me to think about those stressful days at work in a whole new light.

I am beginning to believe that if I never felt overwhelmed, stressed or intimidated by an assignment, it would probably mean that I was not learning -- or, at least that I wasn't learning at a stimulating pace.

It is good to remember that there will always be things that burden or worry us in life, so rather than dwelling on the difficulty at hand, we ought to focus on the personal growth that will eventually result.

We should always bear in mind that our experiences are what we agree to attend to.

(See Artsdevivre's "Growing Up" for another perspective on careers and personal growth.)

Either or?

In a job interview a few weeks ago, I was posed with a question that has stayed with me ever since:

"Do you find comfort in being close to home ...or are you eager to get out and explore the world?"

Since it was an interview, I felt I had to answer one way or another. So I chose the latter.

But I'm not sure how I can claim to be an eager explorer when I have just moved "home" to Richmond, where I am surrounded by friends and family.

True...I did spend four years away at college and three years living in DC, but throughout that time -- except for the semester I spent in Paris -- I was never more than five hours away from the comforts of home.

Yet there is no question in my mind that the most rewarding and enriching moments of my adult life have come from my ventures into the wider world. As I have explored new places and cultures, I have made friends and memories that now define me.

It seems each time I venture out of my comfort zone, I encounter someone or something that illuminates a new layer within the prism of my soul. Afterward, everything I experience filters through that new layer and refracts into thoughts and perspectives I would not otherwise have had.

I am not sure who I would be today if I had never gotten out and explored the world. But I also don't know who I would be today if I did not have a home base to return to after each adventure.
My loyalty to home and family defines me just as much as my fascination with the world beyond.

In the interview, I had to choose one or the other...but in real life I refuse to do so.

And if that means my life becomes a quest to balance these two essential drives, then so be it.

Because I simply can't relinquish either side of myself.

Float On

Float On

A few weeks ago, I opened a copy of Richmond's Skirt magazine and promptly devoured three personal essays I found inside: Stacy Appel's "Undercurrents," Christine Mason Miller's "Time Out" and Phyllis Theroux's "Dream Time."

The theme and messages of this month's issue could not have come at a better time for me.

As I transition out of a job I held for three years and attempt to find my way along a new path of my own making, I have found myself feeling overwhelmed and anxious at the thought that I am in control of my own future.

What if I make the wrong decision and miss out on a golden opportunity? What if I take a step in one direction and then, a few years later, wish I had gone a different route?

The words of wisdom in these essays eased my anxieties and reassured me that I am in the right place for me right now.

I am nourished by the idea that sometimes the wisest choice we can make is to relinquish control and let the invisible currents of life "carry us forward with intelligence we can't quite perceive."