Posted by Anne and Elizabeth

Happy Friday, readers.  If you follow this blog, you’re probably aware that life is about to change in momentous and special ways for our Elizabeth during the month of September.  We decided it only appropriate to take a blogging “maternity leave” of sorts for the next 4 weeks.  We’ll miss your comments, your insight, and your responses.  But rest assured, we’ll be back in October with new stories, new observations, and new Life in Pencil moments.   And if you’re curious, here’s what we’ll be up to…

Elizabeth:

“While I won’t be writing about life in pencil during the next four weeks, I will be intensely focused on living life in pencil. As the website slumbers I will be learning how to take on the challenges of motherhood, one day at a time. Not only will I be learning the logistics of my new life, from mastering midnight feedings to gaining competency in the art of diaper changing (it’s true: I’ve never changed a diaper), I will be learning the less tangible aspects of stepping into a new role.  Cultivating a new identity takes time and energy, and I want to give my full attention to the important work of mothering that lies ahead. I want to savor these early days as I get to know my daughter, to fully absorb the lessons that she has to teach me. When I return in October, I hope to share my insights – hopefully deepened – about what it means to live life in pencil. Until then, I wish all of our dear readers a month filled with their own growth and development, no matter how big or how small.”

Anne:

“It probably goes without saying, but my September will look quite a bit different than Elizabeth’s.  Nonetheless, it feels an important time for me to take a step back, and channel my energy into some new experiences, and exciting challenges.  September marks the start of the school year—a time I move at full throttle.  Students return.  I train my staff.  There are ‘welcome picnics’, and a welcome coolness in the air.  And this year—for the first time in a few years—I’ll add teaching back to my professional life.  This is an experience I’ve been wanting, and for which I’m now discovering some pent-up nerves.  I’ll attempt to wade through those nerves, and all the feelings of incompetence.  And I’ll ride the rush of excitement I find when standing in front of a classroom, hoping to connect with college minds.  Wish me luck.”

See you in October!

Posted by Anne

I have trust issues.  Not issues with trusting people, mind you.  I’m easily trusting of people—maybe even too trusting.  I consider myself fairly trusty as well.  But trusting a process?  Trusting that life or my heart’s desire will work itself out?  I’m a big giant skeptic…hence my difficulty with life in pencil. Despite a very good life, I tend to question whether the future will give me what I want.   I doubt my future.  Stress over it.  So it’s a good thing other people believe in me.  People like…my sister, Gale.

Without the constant reality check of people like Gale, life would be one big old anxiety-fest.  When I want someone to confirm that my doubts and insecurities are unfounded and exaggerated, she’s happy to oblige.  She knocks the optimism back into me.

This was never truer than on a leisurely, sisterly afternoon in my mid-to-late 20’s.  I was single and convinced I would never find someone.  Never marry.  Never be in love…or at least requited love. (Yeah, I was totally dramatic about it.)  We were shopping together, and Gale wanted to hop inside the jewelry store to get her ring cleaned.  “Let’s play!” she said.  We tried on rings “for fun.”  This was not fun for me.  And after a few, I started to lose it.  I would never have one of these, so why on earth were we there?  We left the store, and poor Gale was left to interpret my drama-rama reaction through my flood of tears.  I don’t even remember what she said that day to comfort me.  All I remember was what she did a few months later.

She’d been out of town on business.  Not long after her return, she stopped by my apartment.  “I have a present for you,” she said.  “But it’s conditional.”  She went on.  “This is to remind you that you never need a man to give you jewelry.  If you want jewelry, you can have it.”  And she handed me a small, silk pouch.  Choked up, I loosened the drawstring, and emptied the contents of the pouch into my open palm.  A perfect string of pearls.

She wasn’t saying, “You’d better get used to buying your own jewelry.”  And she wasn’t saying, “Suck it up.”  In reality, she never doubted for a moment that I’d find someone to love.  But to her, there was no reason to go putting my own pleasure on hold until that day came.  The sensible thing is to just live and to live well.  The rest will come.

Hopeful and pragmatic.  Optimistic and grounded.  That is my sister.  Comforting to have someone who believes my life will work out just fine…despite my doubts, despite my fears.

Do you have someone in your life who can convince you things will work out even when your self-doubt is overwhelming?

Posted by Anne

There are many reasons I love my husband.  He makes the Costco trips for starters.  I hate Costco.  But believe it or not, he does something even more important.  He keeps me moving.  And by keeping me moving, he keeps me grounded.

When life’s inherent ambiguity wears on me, I have the tendency to over-think our plans, and overplan our life.  And even overplan our plans?  It’s not helpful.  But that’s when the husband, like a superhero of mindfulness, intervenes.

He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.  It’s just that he can’t see the point in sitting around pondering when we could be doing. And just like that, he whisks me off to activities that force me to be mindful, present, and free of hyper-analysis.   And yes, we do sit still too, but there’s something about activity that magically frees my mind.  Since moving to the Northwest, a quick rundown of some of my favorite mindful moments, all at the suggestion of my fella…

Concerts…

Snowshoeing…

Getting a puppy…

New landscapes…

Fishing trips…

And hikes, upon hikes, upon hikes…

I think I’ll keep him.

Posted by Anne

Before August, 2007, I’d never tasted a coconut macaroon.  Or if I had, it was a puny effort—a light and airy breed of macaroon no bigger than an inch or two in diameter.  Pathetic.  In 2007, I discovered a real macaroon.  That was the year I moved to Durham, North Carolina to complete the final year of my graduate degree in psychology…easily one of the most enriching and tough years of my life.

The work I was doing that year was rewarding, important, and challenging.  But it also made me anxious as hell.  Was I actually helping people?  Was I irritating my supervisors with my endless questions and consultation?  Added to my daily dose of anxiety was the fact that I seriously missed my brand new fiancé, our family suffered a crushing loss, and I had the travel budget of a pauper.  

As I loved living in North Carolina, it didn’t take long for me to feel homesick.  I began combing my temporary city for a place where I could surround myself with people—where I could feel at home without knowing a soul.  Yes, long before this blog, I was looking for a way to feel settled amidst a life that felt endlessly ambiguous and ever-so-slightly scary. 

Enter:  The Coconut Macaroon

The coconut macaroon gave me solace in that lonely, ambiguous year.  It can be found at Foster’s Market in Durham, North Carolina, and if you’ve never been there, I’m sorry.  You really should go.  Like…now.  Foster’s Market is a café/deli/specialty food store/coffee shop/old-time candy counter.  Take the Barefoot Contessa, strip it of the Hamptons accoutrements, add enamel dishes, throw in some (tastefully) funky mismatched furniture and top it off with ancient picnic tables and a cozy front porch.  You have Foster’s Market.

The first time I walked in, I sighed.  It was so ME—manifested in everything from the décor to the menu to the dishes.  And make no mistake—that place is strategically homey.  It’s not accidental…but it worked.  For the next 12 months, I went to Foster’s Market almost once a week.  On my measly budget, I could feed my body and my sad little emotional state with a bowl of soup, crackers, a cup of coffee, and…the best coconut macaroon on the planet.

These macaroons defy description.  First off, they’re chewy.  Not light…chewy.  Coconut-y.  Gooey.  And they taste like they should have about a pound of butter in them…except they don’t. 

After that first surprising bite, I couldn’t stop.  It became a sort of obsession—come Friday afternoon, I’d swoop into the market and blissfully carry away that macaroon in a brown paper bag like it was a fifth of vodka.  I’m telling you…that cookie had healing properties.

After 11 coconut-filled months, I was able to say I survived and graduated, leaving the macaroons behind.  Strangely, I’ve had the recipe for 2 years, and never made them.  I have no idea why.  Maybe because I thought they’d never be the same.  I’m no longer lonely, and I’ve been known to screw up a batch of cookies.  They needed to stay preserved in my culinary memory—I didn’t want them reinvented. 

But after 2 years of macaroon withdrawal, I gave in.  This week, I hauled out the forgotten cookbook, stared at the recipe, and told myself: “You know, even if they stink, it’s okay.  You don’t need this macaroon for emotional healing anymore.  Just the sugar.”

I made them.  And they rocked.  They took me back to that long year in the South, to my talented fellow interns with their encouraging hugs, to my patient supervisors, and my simple little apartment.  Those chewy, gooey concoctions remind me that I made it through a year of ambiguity, and I can always make it through another. 

What treat helps you through rough patches?

My finished product...

Posted by Anne

“Nothing happens, and nothing happens, and then everything happens.”

In 2004, a very good friend sent me a card with the quote above printed in yellow letters on its burgundy front.  We were 24, and our lives had been routines, schedules, and coursework for the previous several years.  Nothing happens and nothing happens. We were ready for an adventure—so we jumped on a plane together, and traveled for 6 blissful weeks oversees—the epitome of 20-something adventure.  And all of a sudden, we made life much more exciting.

And then everything happens. I adore this quote.  It reminds me that life can change on a dime, throwing adventure and excitement into an otherwise static existence.  I need to believe this, because lately I feel as though I’m trapped in the nothing happens and nothing happens phase of life.  When people ask me how I’m doing these days, I always respond the same, with a touch of disappointment in my voice:  “Status quo.”  In other words, nothing happens.

But I wonder—what’s so wrong with status quo?  Isn’t this what I’ve wanted for so long?  Well yes…but only if I’m satisfied with all the elements of my life that remain the same.  And right now, I’m a little antsy.  Not unhappy.  Antsy.   There are some pieces to my life that I want to see develop in new directions—personal things, professional things, creative things.

I was talking to my sister yesterday, taking her on an intimate tour of the inner-workings of my existentially tangled brain, and she said, “I can’t believe you feel like nothing is going on.  A lot is going on.  You’re so close.”  And she’s right.  I feel at the cusp of something.  I just don’t know what.

And it struck me.  Things rarely “just happen”.  I make them happen.  When I was 24, I made that trip happen.  I have some—though not all—control over the moment when everything happens. But where do I start?  I can…

-Talk to people who understand my vision.

-Get feedback from others.

-Dare to join a new organization, take a new class, or meet a new person.

-Reach out.

-Tell people what I want.

Yes, ultimately, it’s my job to make sure everything happens. To start unraveling my tangled aspirations, and put them into action.

Have you ever felt like your life was “status quo”?  Is that a good thing or a bad thing to you?  How have you changed an otherwise static period of your life?

Posted by Anne

When it comes to life, I don’t so much care for ambiguity. But ambiguity in someone else’s life?  Not as problematic for me.  Make that person fictional, and I’m totally entertained. 

Yes, when it comes to movies, I can roll with ambiguity.  I love multiple scenarios.  I love maniacally rushing to my computer to analyze a thousand and one theories on what a film could mean.  And I’m not talking about movies where the ambiguity is so over-the-top that it serves no artistic or cinematic function.  Eyes Wide Shut anyone? Vanilla Sky?  I didn’t think so. Those films are just annoying.  But when it works, the ambiguity of a film’s meaning totally enriches the experience. 

Take, for example, Inception.  Like many Americans, I’ve seen it.  Don’t worry—no “spoiler alerts” necessary—I won’t give away the ending.  But I can say it takes a very life in pencil spirit to avoid groaning at the ambiguity of the conclusion.  And I totally dug it.  Did I research a hundred different explanations?  Yep.  Did I talk about it incessantly for 24 hours?  You bet.  Do I wish I knew exactly what happened?  Nope.  If only I could harness that attitude about my very own ambiguous life…

Other ambiguous cinematic gems that left me saying, “Huh?”  In a good way.

-Donnie Darko
-The Usual Suspects

Posted by Anne

What makes a relationship tick?  The recipe for romantic bliss is one of our country’s favorite topics, and it doesn’t take a PhD to agree on some basic elements like respect, emotional intimacy, and love.  But what else?  How do you infuse spice and energy into even the most comfortable of relationships?  Says one relationship theory…adrenaline. 

The theory—backed-up by research—is pretty simple:  say you’re in an adrenaline-spiking situation with a loved one.  The arousal we experience from that burst of adrenaline spills over, and we attribute some of that arousal to the person we’re with.  Thus, in the right circumstance, adrenaline begets romantic passion.  

This rickety bridge is as close as I get to an adrenaline rush...courtesy of trip to Chile last year.

The first time I read this particular theory, I panicked. You see, I’m not a fan of adrenaline.  I’m sure it’s very useful and all in life-threatening situations.  But on an everyday basis, I don’t go seeking ways to be in touch with said adrenaline.  Does this mean my marriage is doomed?  I don’t think so. 

In my view, the intimacy gained from a shared experience need not be risky.  Every time my husband and I approach a new experience, the outcome is unknown to us.  Life in Pencil is often required.  So even though our adventures aren’t particularly high-risk, they are still adventures.  We…

-Travel
-Hike
-Fish
-Camp
-Eat in funky small-town restaurants

And in recalling these experiences, I feel happy, tingly, and closer to my husband than ever. 

So if sky-diving, bungee-jumping, and rock climbing are your things, go for it.  My recipe for relationship bliss?  Simply sharing experiences for which I can’t predict an outcome.  Bonding through the shared experience of low-risk adventure. 

Do you bond with your significant other through experiences, or more routine pastimes?  Are you a fan of feeling that adrenaline rush, and if so, does it make you feel more amorous than usual?

Posted by Anne

Have you ever found yourself in a rut?  Personal or professional, we all experience phases when we feel stagnant, stuck, or just unable to break out of habits we wish we could leave behind.  We want to lose weight but can’t seem to kick those unhealthy snacking cycles.  We want to be more creative at work, but our job duties don’t leave room for new roles.  External forces recapitulate our ruts.  And so we need revision. 

At Life in Pencil, we often speak of “rewriting our plans”, or even rewriting aspects of our life.   But sometimes, it’s not as simple as wanting to change a part of your life.  Internal motivation is powerful, but if you’re anything like me, inertia puts up a good fight.     

During her recent visit, my Mom and I were talking about change—and how to bust out of unhealthy—or mundane—ruts.  And she (usually one to quote someone like Wendell Berry) instead quoted someone more my speed…Dr. Oz.  (Yeah, I kinda like that guy.)  According to Dr. Oz, you can’t just depend on your own willpower or motivation if you want to change.  You have to rearrange your external surroundings—your entire routine.  Thus, you avoid all those cues around you that affirm your inertia, and leave you solidly planted in that rut—whatever it may be. 

Oh, Dr. Oz.  You smartie-pants.  I think he’s right.  Sometimes we need that change of scenery or routine to truly alter our actions and jump-start us out of a bad habit.  When we change on the outside, we can often find within ourselves what we’ve been missing on the inside.   

This all hits close to home for me, as I’ve been entering my own annual rut of sorts.  I have a name for this rut.  It’s called “summer”.  As much as I adore the lazy days and weekend indulgence of the season, I struggle during the week.  I feel sluggish and often find it difficult to stay motivated throughout the 8 to 5 schedule.  So this year, I tried something new.  I decided to ask for a change in my external circumstances.  I asked to work 4 (10-hour) days a week.  Knowing I have that extra day makes me savor my weekends all the more, and gives me a jolt of something to look forward to during the week.  I still have sluggish moments, but the grooves of my rut aren’t quite as deep these days.

So the next time you feel that old ennui or those nasty habits creeping in, ask how you can shake up your external routines and surroundings.  Try changing…

-Your after-work routine (go for a walk)

-Your morning routine (drink your coffee outside, instead of at the computer)

-Your closet (clean out the junk, so you can see the gems!)

-Your….(fill in the blank)

Have you ever kicked a bad habit, or pulled yourself out of a rut?  Did you do it on sheer willpower, or did you change your surroundings?

Posted by Anne

Is there any season that lends itself to Life in Pencil as well as summertime?  Methinks not.  The long days, brilliant sunshine, and lazy spirit of the season seem ripe for Life in Pencil moments.  For example…

Lazy rivers, and resting on the bank:

Al Fresco, all the time:

Incredible ingredients make for minimal culinary planning:

And tiny tastings to wash it all down:

Camping trips with lazy puppies:

Sitting on the back patio with not-so-lazy hydrangeas:

And on vacation…one very slow sunset that made me forget anything and everything on my schedule. 

Happy Friday, all.  And Happy Summer.

What images would appear in your summer photo album?

Posted by Anne

It’s hiring season.  After months of hiring freezes, furloughs, and layoffs, the University is starting to see some light at the end of the budget-cut tunnel.  Since the spring, my department is finally in the rare position of filling positions to augment our grossly understaffed little office.  What does this mean for me?  I’m listening to a lot of interviews these days.  You know the drill…

What’s a strength of yours that would bring to this position?
Tell us about a time when you experienced a conflict with a co-worker.

And so on. 

Since part of my job involves teaching people how to answer these questions in a savvy manner, I’m keenly aware of the “correct” answers. But throughout this rash of recent interviews, I’ve been surprised by how thoroughly I’ve enjoyed the responses that are less savvy and more honest. 

Take, for example, that age-old interview question:  What are your long-term professional goals? 

Funny that I should ask this question so frequently, when I write a BLOG devoted to the fact that we can’t really know what our life holds for us.  And yet there I am, asking this future-oriented question, and eagerly awaiting an answer that gracefully incorporates commitment and flexibility, openness and directedness.  And in several recent interviews, I’ve gotten some variation on the following response:

I really don’t know. 

This is not a text-book answer.  It’s not even a wise answer.  But it’s damn honest.  And when that person goes on to explain how their professional goals evolve—how they only know small snippets of their goals and are still allowing the rest to fall into place—not only do I respect them, I envy them. 

There I am, the potential employer—the one with the stable job and career.  The one the interviewee is trying to impress.  I’m the partial key to that person’s own job security, and what I admire most is their acceptance of our innately ambiguous futures. 

If you’re interviewing for a job right now, answer “I don’t know” only at your own risk.  Not all employers are career counselors who write self-help blogs.  But if you can infuse honesty and self-reflection while marketing yourself?  Do it.  You’ll not only become employed, you’ll be understood. 

If someone asked you about your long-term professional goals, would you have a solid answer?  SHOULD we have a solid answer?