That’s how my friend Mike described my life. He turned to me at the bar after I had been complaining about pretty much everything – the traffic, the cold, the lack of social opportunities, the dog, and what feels like an inability (despite trying pretty hard) to get anything accomplished professionally – and he said, “you know what? It sounds like your languishing.” Mike’s a funny guy and he chuckled and smirked his sideways grin as he said it. If you knew him, you’d be able to hear his voice and his laugh and his intonation just by reading his intro line of “you know what?” He starts a lot of conversations that way. He was both serious and joking and I appreciated the honesty. The truth is, I feel like I need to make some changes, and I’m not sure where to start. All I seem to be able to do is identify the frustrations, but none of the solutions.
Work
I don’t write about work very much – mostly because I try not to mix the personal with the professional – and also because this is a public blog. Yet how can one not mix the two? I spend the bulk of my day at work, commuting to work, or thinking about work. The other night I had trouble falling asleep because my mind was racing (almost panicking) thinking about all of the things that I’m behind on – which is only a fraction of the things I want to do/accomplish. Every day, my list seems to get a little longer. The emails pile up and more and more unexpected things crop up. I’ve been in my position for a year and I’m still finding things out that I had no idea about. The other day I got an email telling me a report for a grant was due. I hadn’t applied for the grant and so I was unaware of the reporting. I can’t not do it, yet I hadn’t set aside time to write a grant report – drop everything and get it done. In many cases, I’m rebuilding our systems from scratch – which isn’t to say that the systems didn’t exist before me, but that no instructions were left and no training was provided. I’ve learned almost everything through trial and error and asking other executives. Before the pandemic, we were an organization involved in a lot of different things. And then everything stopped and we had an abrupt change in leadership. It’s been up to me to restart everything. But with no real roadmap or sense of how it was done before, I’m having trouble assessing what’s worth restarting and where to put our resources or my time. Professionally speaking, it’s been one of the more challenging years of my career. In nearly every other job I’ve had, I’ve either had people I could turn to who could help me learn what I didn’t know or I’ve had the time and space and resources to teach myself.
The Dog
I complain about him a lot. I don’t know if it was a misjudgment on my part, or if he’s needier than other dogs, or if the challenges he poses can be overcome with time… or maybe he’s just a normal dog being a dog and I’m just not up to the task. I constantly doubt myself with him. He has a lot of good qualities – and I try to remind myself of that. Like lots of dogs, he can be funny and a goof. The other morning, he was rolling around on the floor and low-crawling his way towards me to make sure I knew that he was awake and ready to be fed. He then got tangled up in the cords for the computer and phone because he has no sense of space or his body size. Those things are mildly cute. In terms of obedience, I suspect he’s better than a lot of dogs. He listens to me pretty well. We go on walks and I see other dog owners struggling to handle their dogs. I seldom have that problem. 90% of the time he walks well on the leash. Where we have issues is when we encounter other dogs (he sometimes loses his mind) and when he needs attention and I’m not in the mood or ready to give it. I have some long days. On the days that I head into the office, I’m usually out of the house for 10 or 11 hours (leave by 8 and get back around 6). By the time I get home, all I want to do is have a bite to eat, maybe a drink, and chill. But… he’s been alone all day and needs to eat and walk and play – which is more than fair and completely understandable. But in those moments, what he needs from me and what I need for me are at odds with each other. Being the adult in the relationship (and also the human), I set aside my needs in the moment and take care of him first (and then quietly resent it for the next two hours).
Writing
I have gotten so far out of the habit that more often than not, I sit at the computer not knowing how or where to begin. With daily practice, the words always come. Scarcity (of time) creates this false sense of value and importance. It’s a mentality that says “I don’t have much time, so I better make what I do count.” Practicing every day ensures that much of what I write will be garbage, but it also relieves the pressure of self-expectations. When I practice every day, I become ok with the garbage. The journaling (this blog) usually purges the garbage (sorry about that) and makes way for more creative avenues of writing that you (whoever reads this) don’t see. When I had considerably more time (unemployed and living in Memphis), I wrote almost every day – sometimes two or three times a day. Much of it was trash, and I was perfectly happy with that. I also read a lot more then and was present in the world more. Now, for the most part, those activities are reserved for the weekends and I chastise myself during the week thinking that a more disciplined or passionate or serious person would find the time to do these things. In those moments of self-flagellation I often think of my father and how much time he spent holed up in his study reading. I hear his voice telling me I’m just not serious enough. Then I remind myself that I seldom saw him cook dinner or clean the house or do his laundry or have sole responsibility for a pet or live alone as a single person. Then, just as quickly, I go back to beating myself up because I think of my friend Gabe who has kids and a demanding job and still makes time to write.
Health
I seldom exercise. I used to exercise three to five days a week, sometimes more. I used to walk a lot more – in Philadelphia, in Memphis, in the parks of Bucks County or on the canal path near my house. I used to eat a little better too. I’m well-aware that exercise can have the effect of increasing a person’s energy level, but like writing, once I’m out of the habit, it is incredibly hard to get back into it. My choices are 5 o’clock in the morning, when I’m tired and hungry, or 6:30/7:00 in the evening when I’m tired and hungry and a little stressed (I know, exercise also relieves stress). As a result of a more sedentary lifestyle (I sit in a car for almost two hours a day and sit at a desk for seven or eight hours), I’ve put on a good ten pounds (maybe more depending on the week, the food, and the beer/wine). As a result of the weight and the stress, I get heartburn almost every night and sleep poorly (though I really haven’t slept consistently well for a number of years). If I need to make any changes – this is probably an area of priority… you know, for my health’s sake.
Relationships
When I moved to Memphis, I was intentional about learning to be alone. It sounds silly, but I had spent most of my adult life in two relationships (from age 17ish to age 42ish). Then I dated a lot. The last person I had dated before moving, the woman I had gotten engaged to, talked about her need to be alone. This was part of our undoing, and it was something I struggled to understand. I never needed alone time. Part of my move (aside from just feeling like I needed a new start) was an attempt to cut myself off from all of the familiar crutches and learn to be, and maybe appreciate being, alone. Every once in a while I would try to date, but more often than not, I was just looking to connect with people, but not romantically. I’m a firm believer that people who enter relationships already happy have a better chance of staying happy in the relationship than those who don’t enter happy. I was trying to figure a lot of things out, mostly how to move on with the full and open heart that I felt I had in my previous relationship. I didn’t want to be resentful or angry but I also didn’t want to be longing or hopeful. And so I avoided relationships and instead worked and wrote and spent a lot of time alone and learning my new city. The few times I went out with someone, I found myself saying, “nope, not ready.” But, through those efforts, I made a few friends which seemed like a good thing to do. Now, I feel as though I have a little too much alone time (and yet oddly, not enough). I’ve thought about dating – created a profile and all that – but I don’t want to date just to fill my time. I believe it should be done with intentionality – and I don’t quite feel there. I’m recognizing some of the limits in the “be the person you wish to find” approach, yet still feel like I need to work on some of these other things or else I may just be a downer to anyone I might meet.
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I wrote this about a month ago just after going home for Thanksgiving. I never posted it because it makes me feel like a constant complainer. I want to focus less on temporary frustrations. I’ve re-read it a few times since, and if anything, the sleep has gotten worse and I feel like my health has gotten worse. Approaching a New Year is always a time to take stock – which to some degree, this does.