Ambition

I work at a very large, institution of higher education and for the last 10 years I’ve reported to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to the president. I guess you could call it 4DS or 4 degrees of separation. But this year, I am in a new position and I now report to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to the president or 3DS. Just one degree of separation closer but I feel as though I am in a completely different world. As it turns out I discover – I am. I am now in a world completely populated with “Type A’s”. That’s “A” for Ambitious.

They are everywhere. They are: In before 8. Not home til’ 6. In back to back meetings every hour of the day, every day of the week – sometimes double or triple booked. Often skipping lunch. Never taking breaks. In on their days off. Unlikely to take all of their vacation in any given year. The number of high priority, urgent, large scale projects on their plate at any given time is absolutely mind boggling. And what’s more mind boggling is that in the midst of that they will often volunteer to take on more work.

Just last week one of our Directors laid out her latest six-month plan at the weekly Directors meeting. There she sat – wide eyed, fresh faced, teethy grin spreading from ear to ear. All listened attentively as she painstakingly laid out the complex array of grandiose priorities, projects and plans. And then at the end – the smile widened just a bit as she declared “This is a very ambitious plan”. And at that moment a simultaneous wave of smiles, nods and approving murmurs spread throughout the room. Yes, yes, said the Vice President – A very ambitious plan. We must give her our full support. Yes indeed was the unanimous reply.

You see, down a level at 4DS – they’re not like that. Oh sure, there’s a few lunatics who burn the midnight oil and take on big harry audacious goals, but they’re the minority, and often they don’t stay down there very long because they get promoted. At 4DS, most people just don’t operate that way. They don’t look for more work than they have the capacity to do. They say “no” to one another when things get too busy. They go for coffee. They eat their lunch. They take their vacation – All of it. It’s not that they don’t work hard or never put in more than the minimum – They do- often. But they have limits, they know their limits and they keep their limits.

One of my fondest childhood memories was the arrival of the annual Christmas letter from our over-achieving cousins. We would rush to the kitchen table and my oldest brother would offer to read it aloud. Quickly he would scan and pick out the most boastful, self-aggrandizing sentences he could find. “Oh, Oh, listen to this one he would say”…“Edward has progressed to level 10 of the Western Music Academy and will be playing 1st clarinet in the Ontario Youth Orchestra this year. Andrea is progressing well with her ballet and has won a scholarship to the Julliard school of dance. It is a very competitive school with only 1% of applicants who get in so we are very very proud of her” …. “Oh my God, Give me a break- my brother would interject. My family would erupt with laughter. Then my other brother would chime in and suggest “we should send them a letter from our family.. “We could tell them, Scott was recently suspended from school for 2 days for beating up on the disabled kid at school. Hopefully the kid will recover.” I would laugh so hard that tears would fall down my face. These are my people.

So I’m in the midst of an odd kind of “supersize me” experiment right now. But instead of overdosing on fast food I am overdosing on work, commitments and deadlines. The symptoms though are remarkably similar. Insomnia, clouded thinking, exhaustion, irritability and perhaps the strangest of all – the more I take on, the more I crave. It will be short term though. It has to be. I’m not wired for this. Never was. Never will be. But for now I will continue to study this strange ambitious breed and explore their limitless world. -AG

I Don't Remember

I now have to set an alarm to remind myself to go pick up my son from school, because I find that my internal time-awareness is not so reliable anymore and I can easily forget other obligations and appointments. But, there is a good thing about my memory going soft. It's a subtle transfer of power. They never teach you about this in school.

My mother never learned to drive (not until she was a senile senior, when she could do some real damage). We went to school and back home via Yellow School Bus. I don't think my mother even walked us to the bus stop. It was our responsibility to get ready in the morning and to the bus stop on time. One morning, when I was nine and playing in my bedroom, I suddenly had a sinking feeling about the time and ran to the front door to see the bus motoring off down the street. My yells didn't stop the bus but they woke up my mother who was of course furious with me, and she had to call a cab to take me to school (I don't remember her coming with me, either). I told this to my son this morning as I drove him to school, and he was amazed that 1) my mom didn't drive and 2) I went to school by myself. I realize now that my mom's parenting style (or smaller skill set, perhaps) forced me to become self-reliant and to learn from my mistakes fast.

Now fast forward to 2011, and for my son and other kids his age, it's a very different way of life. Everything is seat-belted, helmeted, cushioned and padded - mama is a chauffeur/personal assistant who takes care of all his needs so that he can lead a smooth, safe, and untroubled existence. However, at some point, my son will have to start solving his own problems, and at the same time, he will grasp that he can even do this better than I. Hence, my aging and memory going soft. It's a frustrating, but necessary factor in the development of my child.

It's Life coming full circle. I have learned to look after myself, and then, to look after another little person, but life won't let me keep looking after him (not very well, anyway) and every time I fall short of his expectations or of meeting his needs, it should make him question status quo, and even, do something positive about it. Right? Wrong. Some days, he wants to curl up with mama looking after him, and everything else. Who can blame him? Like I said, they don't teach you this stuff in school.

by MO

What's the Point?

Once in a while, early Saturday morning, when I am the only one up in our house, and I am in the kitchen, puttering about between the toaster and kettle, I get these little ah-ha moments, where my inner philosophical mind-workings yield mini epiphanies, and sometimes, they are so staggering, that I have to record them, because maybe, I think there may be someone, like the children I know today, who may read them and use them to avoid the major pitfalls in life or arm themselves with these short-cuts if they ever find themselves wandering through the forests of despair.

This morning, I had one. And I thought it was a very good one to share on this blog. So, I made myself a coffee, turned on the computer, and could not remember how to log on, because it's been so long since I last blogged here. I did jot down the info somewhere, but I couldn't remember where I had put it, and after about an hour of fruitless keyboard attempts and of looking through my piles of notebooks for the login info, I finally sent off an e-mail to Anne Gomez, who has kept the original e-mail I sent her of the login info which I had set up. Then, it was time to make breakfast for the other members of the family and other Saturday morning tasks, like pulling out the oven to clean off the inch of dust and grease on its side, time for reading a couple of chapters from my latest Laugh Out Loud library book, and time for a nap (I did get up early this morning) before I checked my e-mail and got the info from AG.

But by now, I have completely forgotten the mind-boggling Meaning-of-Life observation I made this morning. Or, maybe, it wasn't even that good...

by MO

Toronto

grey concrete
white noise
green void
red sirens
colourful people
colourless existence

Ode to Luongo - Time for a repost

Inconsistent
Great one game
Pulled the next
The captain
The one whose name is cheered
Every amazing save
Erased as he watches from the sidelines

Leaves me wondering
Could it be?
That each success
Comes when we give our all
Our whole self
And confidence rises
And rises
And its all so new
For a moment in time
We feel invinceable?

Until the inevitable happens
A failure
A public failure even
And back we go
Back back back

You fool
How could you ever have thought ...
Never give your all like that
Sprawling out
Grasping for all to see

And then we're at a loss
As we return to that familiar place
Outside of the game
Outside of ourselves
The captain on the bench

-AG

A second chance

I found my ex on Facebook. And I hesitated, a while. But I was looking for friends, trying to re-engage with the world, trying to break my hermit habits. And I hesitated, for a while, before clicking Add As Friend.

Like old times, he was quick to Send Message, and then he sent another, telling me-warning me- that he was going to call. But in those two messages, he updated me on his father, his mother, his friends, his house, his work and his Fido minutes, so … why does he have to call? Like old times, my muscles tighten and the heart becomes shrink-wrapped. Don’t call. I won’t answer. Geez, where can I go to be unavailable?

But this could be a second chance, two decades later, to test myself, to prove I can be firm and friendly and be honest with him and with myself. This is a second chance to address old grievances and forgotten short-comings, that made me do the things I did to myself.

This second chance to say what I mean and mean what I say, and not to worry about my p’s and q’s and not to care “do they like me?” and not to think I have much to learn from these people, could be a milestone. Because the most important thing I learned didn’t come from him and the three years of marriage, but from two decades of looking for the truth. And even though I sometimes didn't like what I found, when it sometimes kicked me in the face or rear-ended me on a sunny day, it was still my journey and my discoveries and my truths (and my god, I have no one to blame but myself). This is where I am now, a place not entirely filled with peace, but my place.

And then I went to my Facebook account and hid my phone number.

-MO

Motherless

Finally
A pocket of quiet time
My mind exhales

Cycling through waves of anticipation
That there ought to be someone;
Someone I could call
Someone I could tell about this or that
Someone who would say how clever
How nice
How wonderful
How great it is that I'm so great

The actor on the stage
Exuberant and unrestrained
The lights go up
But the audience is gone

-AG