Friday, April 22, 2011

A Word From The Hubs

So, my husband is in the final year of his PhD program at Colorado School of Mines and he recently wrote an essay for a scholarship application. In the essay, he answers what the term, "open communication" means to him. I am so proud of all he has accomplished and how hard he's worked, all the while working at his full-time job and becoming the daddy to our son (and all that comes with having a newborn!). But I was so impressed with this essay, probably because I feel like he embodies everything that he wrote so well. So, I just had to share it. I love his heart and this essay reflects just one of countless other things I love about him:

Open Communication
To know and to be known are two core values that all human beings share. We gain a sense of intrinsic value when we realize that we have something significant to offer others and when those around us deem us competent and valuable within our personal realms of expertise. The vehicle for sharing knowledge is open communication and transparency, which can thrive in an environment where people feel free to be who they are. For communication to be effective, mutual respect and acceptance are imperative. All parties must believe both that they have something to contribute to the conversation, and that they have something to learn from others, unencumbered by the artificial stereotypes that are so easily imposed on them. Active listening, which involves repeating back what is heard and further engaging by asking follow-up questions, is a great way to show respect for an individual’s viewpoint. Another way is to represent personal viewpoints as flexible, rather than rigid, thereby giving others permission to offer alternate or challenging viewpoints. Finally, communication is sustainable when carried out with consistent integrity, honesty and authenticity. If communication is conducted in the above manner it can be both freeing and life-giving. In a corporate setting, effective open communication fosters trust, deepens respect, stirs creativity, unifies coworkers and promotes greater productivity.
In both my personal and student life, I value authenticity deeply. I strive each day to represent myself in an honest light, displaying my strengths and being vulnerable with my shortcomings. I have found that in group settings, leading with weakness can be very freeing for others; when they see that I am someone who excels at some things yet struggles with others, the burden of having to represent themselves in an artificial light is lifted, and they are able to communicate openly without fear of condemnation or judgment. I’ve also learned that it is far easier and more effective to learn from another than it is to learn from a book. I value mentors, friends and mentees, as it is important to learn from those who walk ahead, to share with those who walk beside, and to pass on to those who follow. Practicing authenticity and engaging in successful mentoring relationships both hold effective and open communication at their core.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

After the Storm

The rain was pouring down when I left my house this morning. The clouds were dark and thick, with no sun to be found as I made my way into downtown to take my friend out for her birthday breakfast. Other than the fact that I don’t like driving in the rain, I didn’t mind the rain because we don’t get a whole lot of rainy days here in sunny Colorado, and everyone knows that this dry fire-magnet state desperately needs the moisture.

At one point, as my friend and I were gnoshing on some out of this world upside down pineapple pancakes, I looked out the window beside me only to be surprised by the sun shining in on me, surrounded by clear blue skies. By the look of this sky, one would never have known the storms were raging just an hour earlier.

As I was driving home underneath the newly blue sky, the pavement was still wet from the rain and looking particularly dark, a rich contrast to the deep green grass beside it. The blossoming flowers, still showcasing tiny drops of rain on their petals, seemed to be a deeper shade of magenta. The budding trees appeared to be more alive. It was a stunningly beautiful sight to be seen and I felt so lucky to be there to appreciate it. (the picture to the right is from a different day last spring, when the sun emerged even as the rain was ending.)

And that’s when it hit me. I don’t particularly like to be caught in the middle of life’s storms. When I find myself in the midst of a raging storm, I often wonder if and when it will ever end. In my anxst, I find myself wishing for my circumstances to change. I long for the rain to stop and the sun to re-emerge. And when it does, I feel a deep sense of gratitude. Like the trees that look a little brighter and the grass a deeper shade of green, life takes on new meaning, deeper meaning after a storm.

Not that I want to invite storms into my life, but I’m pretty sure that if my life were always sunny, I’d have far less appreciation for the sun when it does shine. If the skies were always blue, I’d never know the beautiful contrast of the wet green grass against that deep blue sky or the pavement donning a darker shade of black, or the contrast of the beautiful deep magenta flowers set against the shiny green budding leaves. So, I guess that’s all to say that in some strange way, I’m thankful for the storms just as I’m thankful for when they come to end, because life somehow seems a little richer after they’ve passed.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

And the Diagnosis is...Momnesia!


I’ve managed to set off my smoke alarm not once, but twice in 2 days. And one of those times I nearly burned down the house…again! As one who has prided herself in NOT living up to the blonde stereotype and who has always had a stellar memory and ability to multi-task, I am freaking out just a little bit. Why? Because I’ve developed a serious case of Momnesia, which according to my definition, involves utter loss of the ability to remember anything that’s not written down and right in front of oneself and severe impairment to ones multi-tasking abilities. Symptoms include but are not limited to, missing scheduled meetings, starting tasks and then forgetting you started them (hence the smoke alarm situation), performing tasks with severe absent-mindedness, leaving your house without a jacket when it’s snowing out, and thinking you sent an email when really you just thought about sending said email. If you exhibit 3 or more of these symptoms, it is fair to say that you meet the criteria for the diagnosis of Momnesia. Seeing that I now exhibit all 5 symptoms on a regular basis, I’m offering myself up as the poster child for Momnesia.

Some call it pregnancy brain and I’ve even read articles that show evidence that an actual change in the brain does occur during pregnancy. How could it not with all of those crazy hormones laying siege on a woman’s body? But what does science have to say about the pregnancy brain that just keeps on giving even after that little bundle of joy is born? I like to chalk it up to the fact that I have so much more to remember now that I am responsible for a little being who is entirely dependent on me to keep him alive. It’s as though I’m suddenly trying to cram 3x the amount of information in my brain than I was in the time of B.B. (Before Ben). I like to think that I am more spacey and forgetful of tasks because I care so much about my little guy and my attention is fixed on him and his needs. At least that would explain why I got so pre-occupied with the mini photo-shoot of my cute little man that I forget about the sugar water I had boiling on the stove in preparation to candy some almonds. That is until my smoke alarm started calling out, “fire, fire, fire” and I saw smoke billowing from the kitchen. Ooops. And that wasn’t even the one that almost burned the house down!

It could be pretty depressing to think about spending the rest of my life with Momnesia. But I’ve decided that instead of fighting it, I’m gonna try rolling with it. This may mean letting go of some of my pride, admitting that my husband might actually remember a conversation better than me now, and reducing some of the expectations that I have for myself. And while safety is obviously of utmost importance and I really need to work on turning on the right burner and remembering when I’ve started something on the stove, I also need to show myself a little grace. After all, I have taken on an enormously important new role, one that comes with oodles to learn and remember, but one I cherish, that of being a mom. So, there Momnesia, you’re not going to get the best of me because I’m armed with grace for myself, a sense of humor, and a mighty good smoke alarm!

Monday, April 4, 2011

Milemarkers and Memories

Whoa, it's been a while. And that's definitely not for lack of happenings or things to write about, but rather I simply have been enjoying the moments too much to stop and write about them. Three weeks ago, I reached by biggest post-partum goal, to run a half-marathon (13.1 miles) by 9 months post-partum. And I did it, albeit very slowly, I did it. What's even more exciting is how much I enjoyed it, every step of it. In my ripe ole age of 36, I have come to realize that sometimes it's ok to let go of "time goals," to trade in "pushing myself to the absolute limit" for "a highly enjoyable jaunt." It's fun for me to observe my intensity level shift a bit (or a lot of bits) when it comes to races, especially this one. This was probably the first race I've ever run that I wasn't honed in on a time goal and I really wasn't even aware of the thousands of other people running beside me. I was in my zone and it felt as though there was nothing but me, my music, the beautiful canyon walls rising up on either side of me, and my thoughts.

Around mile 3, I found my thoughts drifting back to the last time I ran through this canyon, four years ago. Tom and I were dating at the time and we ran this race together with some friends. As I meandered through the canyon this time, passing milemarker after milemarker, I found myself with a smile on my face as I remembered various "milemarkers" that our relationship has hit along the way. It was as though I could actually feel the sun on my face as Tom and I sat in Telluride sipping coffee on our Engagement Trip. And I so clearly remember joking with each other about moving to the hip and hoppin' (read sarcasm) town of Naturita as we drove through it on our way to Moab. And it seems like just yesterday that I felt the nervous anticipation bubbling up in me as we hiked up to Delicate Arch by moonlight, suspecting a proposal might be just moments away. This quickly replaced by the ecstatic joy I felt as Tom got down on one knee beneath the arch, the moonlight our only witness, and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him as his wife. Of course, I said yes. I could not wait to marry him and see where this journey would go. And so the miles continued to fly by as I reminisced about our wedding day and honeymoon...mile 6, mile 7, mile 8. This was the happiest running I'd ever experienced!

Some people say that life is like a run, with uphills and downhills, moments where you feel light and free and overall incredible, and other moments when your legs feel like lead and you have to struggle to keep your pace. I'd dare say that marriage can be a little like that too. There are those seasons when the course is flat and easy, when communication feels natural and you're on the same page. And there are those seasons when the road takes a turn uphill, like mile 11 of this course and you have to remember your goal, dig deep, lean into that hill and keep putting one foot in front of the other. I liken that to when the furnace breaks, the car breaks, and you have to go to the ER, oh and you are evacuated from your home for carbon monoxide...all in one week! Or when we're both stressed and feeling overwhelmed by the to-do list, on the verge of getting sick, and don't feel like we have a whole lot to give to each other. Or when we're reacting to each other rather than responding, or blaming rather than listening. We've had those moments in our marriage too, when we've really had to work to connect and choose to love each other even when it's felt hard. But thankfully, similar to this race, those moments have been far outnumbered by the ones that feel deeply satisfying and rewarding.

As I reached the top of the hill and turned the corner past mile marker 12, all I could think about was how far we've come, having added a little mini-meuz to the mix and hoping for more. My thoughts drifted back to yesterday when the three of us hiked up to Delicate Arch for the first time since we got engaged up there. We talked about the overwhelming joy we felt being back up there, this time with our son. We were mesmerized by Ben's fascination with playing in the red dirt and thrilled to watch his curiosity let loose.

By this point in the race, I found myself in the home stretch, less than a half mile to go. I could taste the finish and all I could think about was getting to hug my two favorite guys, waiting at the end. And that's when I spotted them, Tom waving Ben's hand and yelling, "Go Mommy!" That's when it happened, the flood gates could hold them back no more, tears started streaming down my face uncontrollably as I crossed that finish line. And the tears weren't about the fact that I ran some 13.1 miles, or completed another race, no they were about so much more than that. The tears were for what the race symbolized, the milestones and memories of an incredible journey thus far. I hope for many many more miles on the journey and I am confident that the work will be so worth the reward.