Browsing tag: life

<image via turatti on flickr>

I have come within metres of a convicted killer.

Did that get your attention?

Paul Wood told an amazing story at TEDx Auckland this month. From high school dropout and murderer to PhD, it’s a tale almost too good to be true. No doubt those younger years form a part of his life he’d rather forget and leave well behind him, but it’s a surefire way to gain media attention and can only be a boost for his business.

His turnaround is a testament to the power of drive and determination.

Without that that internal drive and desire, you can’t expect to get very far. He identified the negative influences in his life, the factors that were holding him back, and set about eliminating them. Sure, there were setbacks, and it took a long time to work through his first degree and fulfil university requirements while in prison, but after that, he set about gaining another, and then another…

But he also made the point that he couldn’t have done it alone. Success rarely happens in a vacuum.

His father visited him every weekend. His professors visited him in jail so he could complete his course criteria. It’s something I’ve mentioned before – you need incredible inner strength and motivation to break a cycle, and it’s damn hard to do it in a hostile environment. Conditioning factors shouldn’t be understated, nor should the importance of mentors and role models. No human is an island.

My generation has often been labelled as the most privileged generation in history. We’re spoilt, impatient, and feel entitled to the world, apparently.

I’ve actually been told before that I don’t seem Gen Y at all. Something about work ethic, maturity, and other such heart-warming compliments.

Really, I’m just doing my job.

I will admit that there are things that bug me about some of my peers and those just coming through now into the workforce. Just little behaviours I observe, like the classic whinge about how a monkey could do this job (I CAN’T BELIEVE I WENT TO UNIVERSITY FOR THIS!), or a tendency to throw out the most basic questions (queries that could easily be answered independently with a tiny bit of work on their part *cough Google cough*).

But I’m far from a paragon of perfection myself. I’ve been wondering, lately, whether I truly appreciate my lot – because it’s a bloody good one, let’s face it. I have a sweet job, one I can walk to (and work from home if need be) with amazing people. Price, location and size have collided nicely in our current house, though it’s uninsulated and drafty (and not immune to mould). For the past six-odd years, I’ve had a devoted guy by my side, who wants to spend the rest of his life with me.

Yet wouldn’t you know it, I find plenty of things to grumble about (why can’t he decide what he wants to do work-wise? Why did I say yes to doing this awesome feature, even though it means spending hours of my own time working on it?) And that really hit home during the series finale of Desperate Housewives, when Tom points out to Lynette that she’s always chasing one more thing over the horizon that she thinks is the final key to happiness – only it never is (and yes, I promise this will be the last time I reference Lynette in a post. Also, while I was totally rooting for them, was anyone else not thrilled about the way the writers finally reunited those two?).

But you know what they say about the yoof.

“The world is passing through troublous times. The young people of today think of nothing but themselves. They have no reverence for parents or old age. They are impatient of all restraint. They talk as if they knew everything, and what passes for wisdom with us is foolishness with them.”

“The children now love luxury. They have bad manners, contempt for authority, they show disrespect to their elders…. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and are tyrants over their teachers”

You’ve probably heard both those quotes before, and know that they’re attributed to Socrates and some dude known Peter the Hermit. For centuries, adults have complained about the younger generation. It’s nothing new.

I’d be curious to hear from anyone who’s a little further down the track – those in their 30s or beyond, maybe? Did you encounter similar attitudes when you started out in the workforce?

 <image via kevenlaw on flickr>

You know the feeling when a new month rolls around and you realise the past four weeks have zoomed by at warp speed?

That’s me in a nutshell.

So, I’m trying to be more present.

For example, I have the best commute anyone could ask for. It’s a 20-minute walk one way. But when it comes down to it, I actually find myself resenting it at times.

It’s already nearly 6! It’s going to be dark in a few minutes! WHY ISN’T TELEPORTATION A THING YET?

Which is kind of insane, given it gets in my 30 minutes of exercise a day. Also – not so much on the way home, but certainly in the morning – it’s a really beautiful walk.

Unless I’m early, I manage to miss the throngs of high school students who take over the footpaths (I’m SURE back in the day I used to make room for people coming through; these days packs of kids refuse to break formation for anything) and can enjoy a leisurely stroll.

There are ducks in the (filthy) little creek that I cross.

There’s the divine smell of fresh laundry from the high school (some kids board there during the term).

There’s a woman who I assume works there, who’s always on the bridge having a cigarette, and who always smiles as I pass her.

There’s an adorable kid of about 7 or 8, who always greets me with a chirpy “good morning” as I pass him and his mother along the walkway.

I won’t live and work here forever, so dammit, I need to smell the roses from time to time.

I urge you: find enjoyment in a small part of your regular routine, and take the time to appreciate it every once in a while.

A recent NY Times piece, The Busy Trap, caught a lot of attention around the web

And this week, an Atlantic story covered similar ground, and citing research that showed that those who work/earn more are also busier and stressed.

I have recently fallen into the busy trap. I am deep in and can’t see a way out. I think things will ease up by the end of the month as I meet a deadline and catch up on work that’s piled up/was deferred while I was away (I was still working in Australia, but fewer hours, and there are always things it’s hard to do while you’re not at your desk). And the burglary situation isn’t helping.

I have emails coming in faster than I can read them.

Pitches coming faster than I can scan, and usually delete, them.

Too many people who want to just meet up for coffee or to discuss things that do not warrant an in-person meeting.

Too many phone pitches. PR people do not seem to know how to be succinct over the phone. I need to stop picking up, or learn to cut them off midstream. I was always terrible at dealing with telemarketers, and I always felt bad about fobbing them off. But I think ruthlessness is needed.

My current mental mantra and reflex response to anything is I don’t have time. I’m too busy. I’m flat out. It’s paralysing. Anything that crops up, I dread, and wonder how I’m going to fit it in. I need to stop thinking that way, because it’s self-perpetuating.

Being exhausted from work spills over into, well, life in general. I haven’t tried new recipes in forever, because picking them out from my Delicious folder, compiling a grocery list, and actually doing the cooking or baking is too much effort. Cleaning is going to the dogs. T has been flat tack at work, too, and on the weekends, vegging is the only thing we’ve done in forever (barring last weekend – he hates being home alone so spent a lot of time with friends. Expensive, but I’m glad he did it, and he had a lot of fun). Basically, if I were to die tomorrow, I wouldn’t be happy about how I’d spent my last days.

While I’m productive at work, I really am not so anywhere else. Example: the total stalling of wedding planning, although now that’s partly because I’m just not sure about timings anymore.

That said, I am actually an incredibly lazy person. A diehard introvert who needs ridiculous amounts of quiet time to recharge and relax. Guilt over excessive vegging probably isn’t great. Part of that, I think, is also reframing your mindset to think that idleness is evil or wasteful. It’s NECESSARY. While life is hectic, I’m going to be okay with my weekends as little oases of slothfulness.

Via a recent Zen Habits piece:

I recently read a travel tip from someone who reminds himself that “killing time is a sin”, and so makes the most use of every bit of downtime, even on an airplane: “read a good book, learn a new language with Rosetta Stone, write to my friends around the world who haven’t heard from me in too long”.

I have no objections to reading books, learning languages, or writing to friends. It’s the idea that downtime must be put to efficient use that I disagree with. While I used to agree with it completely, these days I take a completely different approach.

Life is for living, not productivity.

As Leo says: “There is a tendency among productive people to try to make the best use of every single minute, from the minute they awake. I know because not too long ago I was one of these folks.”

I am so guilty. I multitask while cooking because I hate standing over the stove, and burn things. I email and read blogs and tweet while watching TV or a movie, and miss things. I often  used to lie on my bed as a kid, close my eyes and just listen to music, letting my favourite songs transport me away. I don’t think I’ve ever done that since.

Seriously, stopping to smell the roses and bask in the sun is a beautiful thing. Need proof? In this post, Cordelia shows us how it’s done. Go out and find joy in the simplest, most natural everyday stuff.

I will end this post with a quote from that Zen Habits piece:

“Killing time isn’t a sin — it’s a misnomer. We’ve framed the question entirely wrong. It’s not a matter of “killing” time, but of enjoying it.”

Is life cruisy for you at the mo or rattling by at top speed? Are you and the busy trap mindset well acquainted?

You often hear grumbles about how much simpler life was when we were younger – before we had bills to pay and jobs that meant we HAD to get up in the mornings. Before we had to deal with flatmates and house hunting and property agents and recruitment agents and car dealers and insurance and supermarkets.

But you know what? I like being a grownup.

Yeah, there were good things about adolescence. But I hated my body and how I looked. I was not comfortable in my own skin. I wore too much makeup, badly. I was pining after boys who didn’t give me a second look, and being pined after by boys I wouldn’t give a second look or creeped me out (and by others who never let on, who I now count among my best friends). Yeah, I had some freaking awesome times with friends, but I also had a lot of clashes at home. I wanted to live a life that wasn’t mine, but that quite frankly, wouldn’t have suited me anyway.

Adulthood isn’t easy by any means, but IMO, it is infinitely preferable.

I’ve always been an old soul, and so independence suits me perfectly. I have a job I love, a fiance I love, a life I generally love. I don’t have to answer to anyone, as long as I do my job, pay my taxes, don’t speed, don’t trash my house, etc etc.

Today, I am 24. It sounds strange to say. But I am now well and truly in my mid-twenties.

Do you ever long for the halcyon days of childhood? Or were you eager to grow up?

I’ve come to realise that when I tackle things when I’m in the wrong state of mind  … they never turn out well.

Plunging into deep relationship talks when you’re not mentally and emotionally prepared for them is a terrible idea.

Driving while angry, upset, or stressed is a recipe for disaster.

Tackling a new baking recipe late on a weeknight when you really would rather be in bed and are not prepared for conversions and painstaking measurement of ingredients will result in a lot of waste and a lot of swearing.

Choose your time and place wisely.