- Meeting with boss about programming turned into meeting with boss about school official visit that afternoon
- created flyer for visit
- printed PSA, calendar, etc for visit
- put together database demo for visit
- set up equipment for visit
- prepped pages for demo
- visit pushed back an hour
- watched boss persuade official that cooperation between schools and library=good
- set up another meeting with boss to talk about programming
- worked ref desk all day, due to extreme business and scheduling changes
- rescheduled meeting with boss
- met with boss to propose ideas
- most ideas shot down and replaced
- pondered why people don't just tell you what they want and not make you play - No, that's not it, this is what I was thinking
- discussed various promos and what I needed to do to create marketing materials
- began to wonder if I should have gotten an MBA instead
- back to desk to finish out rest of morning
- blah, blah, blah - rinse well and repeat
Thursday, August 27, 2009
More Stuff
Week 4 continues
Monday, August 24, 2009
Stuff
Week 4 (so far)
- worked on rough draft of programming schedule for meeting with boss Tues at 9
- talked with intern who is supposed to be working 20 hrs per week with me this week & next (?)
- got phone call from boss about meeting with superintendent of schools Tues at 2, for which I need to have super wonderful, knock her socks off programming schedule completely finished (after meeting with boss at 9am when changes in schedule will be sure to occur)
- read email from teen librarian in another community about programming frequency - first 6 months for this person consisted of advisory group, a book club, and one pre-planned event - advised to "take it slow"
- banged head on desk
- went home, worked on shiny sparkly calendar, ate cookie dough (unbaked), pet cat, wished for wine and this weekend (which will be spent in MSLA!)
Is it really only Monday? Wish me luck!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Light and shadows, with cat
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
from Dream Work by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
from Dream Work by Mary Oliver Sunday, August 16, 2009
The simplest questions are the most profound
Philosophical pondering on a cold and rainy Sunday (or is it too early to have a stomach ache thinking about the upcoming week?)
The simplest questions are the most profound. Where were you born? Where is your home? Where are you going? What are you doing? Think about these once in a while and watch your answers change.
---Richard Bach
I read this quote recently, and have been pondering it, as I've been pondering my life. This is what I think here and now. As with the rest of life, it's subject to change.
Where were you born?
Biologically, I was born in Council Bluffs, IA, but I’ve had points in my life where the changes were so great or where the ah ha moments were so astounding that I felt as if I had shed my skin and been born to something else. Oddly enough, many of these have involved travel. The first was when I went to Ecuador for a summer foreign exchange between my junior and senior year of high school. My family life growing up was fairly dysfunctional; I knew this intellectually, but staying with another large family helped me feel the dysfunction emotionally. This, in turn, led me to a very circuitous path of therapy in my adult life which saved my life.
The second time I felt that shift in gravity, in the way the world worked, and in the way I functioned in it was when I spent a year in Wales during college. This was really the first time I found other people who treasured what I did, or at least understood, accepted, and valued intellectual interests. I had written poetry in my head for a long time, and while some of it was written down, much of it was not. In Wales, it was okay to be with people, think of something, stop, ponder it, and then write something down. I didn’t get the – “what are you doing?” “come on, why are you so slow?” “what are you writing?” It was okay to do this. I didn’t have to share unless I wanted to, and it was accepted as part of who I was. This, and other situations, helped me see that I was holding my breath, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to be seen and hurt. I was invisible, and this is the first time I bumped into that realization, and started realizing that it was okay to exist as myself.
The last time I was born again to the world was in the process of some very deep therapy. I started to learn that my pain would not destroy me, and that being visible would not result in my death or destruction. Many, many dark corners were opened and aired out, and my life shifted. Even though I still struggle with my past, it is not as weighty or all-consuming.
Where is your home?
I was surprised at the amount of sadness this question brought up. I don’t know that I have a home at the moment. I haven’t felt that I have had one for several years. Missoula was home, but I left in late fall 2006, and have felt displaced ever since. I’ve known that nothing since then has been permanent, so nothing has felt settled. I am a plant with its roots dangling in air. For some people, this might work. For me, I put things off until I’m settled and so I end up living in the future, thinking more about someday than here and now. I have wasted months and years of my life this way. Now that 50 is right around the corner, I’m not comfortable with wasting time that now seems more finite and not as boundless as when I was in my 20s.
Where are you going?
Again, I am adrift. I’m not sure where I’m going. Until graduation, I was going to finish school and find a job as a librarian. Now that I have a job, I’m not sure. Being a librarian is another thing I can do, that I could be good at if I wanted. But it’s not what my heart wants. And I don’t know what to do with that realization. Should I just settle for this as a job, and if that’s the case, do I want to settle for a job in a location that fits me better? Or is this particular job just not a good match, and how much time do I give it? I’m not sure that I trust myself enough to do what my heart wants, either.
What are you doing?
I feel like I am avoiding my life, like I’m trying to dance sideways around what would nourish me, what would be real, what I could do to truly contribute to the world. My problem is that I’m a writer who doesn’t write, who is always looking for something compatible with writing, something I could do AND write. I avoid writing by dancing around it. I’m not sure why. When I do write, I feel at home in my life, in my soul. Is not writing just another way to be invisible, to let the darkness win? I don’t know. I would guess yes.
I feel like I’ve lost some ground, some of the openness I gained through therapy. I still carry this body tension, this boundary wall with me at all times. I’ve hoped that it would soften over time, but for that to happen, I would have to trust the world. I don’t trust the world completely. I have a great deal of hope, but in the back of my mind, there is still some amount of fear of destruction, of annihilation, that I can’t release. Being able to be visible is something I accept intellectually. I struggle with accepting it emotionally. Until I can do this, my life will be a partial shadow of what it could be. I have learned not to beat myself up for this limitation, at least. I know it’s common in people who were abused, especially at a young age. I’ve made a very uneasy peace with the knowledge that this fear still lives inside me. Maybe someday I will make my peace with this fear, too. I don’t know that, either.
The simplest questions are the most profound. Where were you born? Where is your home? Where are you going? What are you doing? Think about these once in a while and watch your answers change.---Richard Bach
I read this quote recently, and have been pondering it, as I've been pondering my life. This is what I think here and now. As with the rest of life, it's subject to change.
Where were you born?
Biologically, I was born in Council Bluffs, IA, but I’ve had points in my life where the changes were so great or where the ah ha moments were so astounding that I felt as if I had shed my skin and been born to something else. Oddly enough, many of these have involved travel. The first was when I went to Ecuador for a summer foreign exchange between my junior and senior year of high school. My family life growing up was fairly dysfunctional; I knew this intellectually, but staying with another large family helped me feel the dysfunction emotionally. This, in turn, led me to a very circuitous path of therapy in my adult life which saved my life.
The second time I felt that shift in gravity, in the way the world worked, and in the way I functioned in it was when I spent a year in Wales during college. This was really the first time I found other people who treasured what I did, or at least understood, accepted, and valued intellectual interests. I had written poetry in my head for a long time, and while some of it was written down, much of it was not. In Wales, it was okay to be with people, think of something, stop, ponder it, and then write something down. I didn’t get the – “what are you doing?” “come on, why are you so slow?” “what are you writing?” It was okay to do this. I didn’t have to share unless I wanted to, and it was accepted as part of who I was. This, and other situations, helped me see that I was holding my breath, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to be seen and hurt. I was invisible, and this is the first time I bumped into that realization, and started realizing that it was okay to exist as myself.
The last time I was born again to the world was in the process of some very deep therapy. I started to learn that my pain would not destroy me, and that being visible would not result in my death or destruction. Many, many dark corners were opened and aired out, and my life shifted. Even though I still struggle with my past, it is not as weighty or all-consuming.
Where is your home?
I was surprised at the amount of sadness this question brought up. I don’t know that I have a home at the moment. I haven’t felt that I have had one for several years. Missoula was home, but I left in late fall 2006, and have felt displaced ever since. I’ve known that nothing since then has been permanent, so nothing has felt settled. I am a plant with its roots dangling in air. For some people, this might work. For me, I put things off until I’m settled and so I end up living in the future, thinking more about someday than here and now. I have wasted months and years of my life this way. Now that 50 is right around the corner, I’m not comfortable with wasting time that now seems more finite and not as boundless as when I was in my 20s.
Where are you going?
Again, I am adrift. I’m not sure where I’m going. Until graduation, I was going to finish school and find a job as a librarian. Now that I have a job, I’m not sure. Being a librarian is another thing I can do, that I could be good at if I wanted. But it’s not what my heart wants. And I don’t know what to do with that realization. Should I just settle for this as a job, and if that’s the case, do I want to settle for a job in a location that fits me better? Or is this particular job just not a good match, and how much time do I give it? I’m not sure that I trust myself enough to do what my heart wants, either.
What are you doing?
I feel like I am avoiding my life, like I’m trying to dance sideways around what would nourish me, what would be real, what I could do to truly contribute to the world. My problem is that I’m a writer who doesn’t write, who is always looking for something compatible with writing, something I could do AND write. I avoid writing by dancing around it. I’m not sure why. When I do write, I feel at home in my life, in my soul. Is not writing just another way to be invisible, to let the darkness win? I don’t know. I would guess yes.
I feel like I’ve lost some ground, some of the openness I gained through therapy. I still carry this body tension, this boundary wall with me at all times. I’ve hoped that it would soften over time, but for that to happen, I would have to trust the world. I don’t trust the world completely. I have a great deal of hope, but in the back of my mind, there is still some amount of fear of destruction, of annihilation, that I can’t release. Being able to be visible is something I accept intellectually. I struggle with accepting it emotionally. Until I can do this, my life will be a partial shadow of what it could be. I have learned not to beat myself up for this limitation, at least. I know it’s common in people who were abused, especially at a young age. I’ve made a very uneasy peace with the knowledge that this fear still lives inside me. Maybe someday I will make my peace with this fear, too. I don’t know that, either.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
New Job Updates
I've completed my first day as an official librarian. I like the library and the people I've met. I'd forgotten how mentally and physically exhausting the first day can be. It's 7:30pm and I'm pretty much ready for bed right now.
Today - met with the director, met with the children's librarian, met with the reference staff, and with one of the people who worked on young adult programing, filled out paperwork, collected a pile at least 12 inches high to be read soon, found out I will be attending a conference in Great Falls in Sept. as a presenter, was presented with a set of 6 keys to various doors in the library.
Tomorrow - meet with the systems librarian, choose the area I want to set up my work space in, move furniture, get set up with email, read some of the piles of stuff, and other things I don't know yet.
Wed. - I can only guess. Meet Adriana, Halen, and Gary at my apartment after work for a tour, and then a ride to Missoula.
Thurs. - Attend Pacific Northwest Library Conference in Missoula. Sneak away to meet Denise and Heather at 7pm.
Friday - Attend Pacific Northwest Library Conference in Missoula.
Saturday - Irish festival in Butte.
Sunday - rest and recuperate.
Today - met with the director, met with the children's librarian, met with the reference staff, and with one of the people who worked on young adult programing, filled out paperwork, collected a pile at least 12 inches high to be read soon, found out I will be attending a conference in Great Falls in Sept. as a presenter, was presented with a set of 6 keys to various doors in the library.
Tomorrow - meet with the systems librarian, choose the area I want to set up my work space in, move furniture, get set up with email, read some of the piles of stuff, and other things I don't know yet.
Wed. - I can only guess. Meet Adriana, Halen, and Gary at my apartment after work for a tour, and then a ride to Missoula.
Thurs. - Attend Pacific Northwest Library Conference in Missoula. Sneak away to meet Denise and Heather at 7pm.
Friday - Attend Pacific Northwest Library Conference in Missoula.
Saturday - Irish festival in Butte.
Sunday - rest and recuperate.
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