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I have big shoes to fill. My mom’s shoes that is. And while she is still wearing her (closet full of cute) shoes, she has decided to kick off her high heels and trade them in for fun shoes. My mother who has worked a strong and steady career since she graduated college, has retired.
Mom opening her Stiletto Martini Glass gift.
One of my mom’s best friends since college recently recounted the story of the day my mom chose her career. Apparently my mom burst in the door to the sorority house and said, “I know what I’m going to do with my life!”
Now, I don’t know about you people, but this sort of career purpose clarity seems pretty darn amazing.
And my mom has done exactly what she set out to do. She was a teacher at a school for severely handicapped children, she then became the principal, then a school superintendent (the only female school superintendent at that time!), then Director of Curriculum for nine schools (I think it was nine…). My mom has given so much of her life to helping to educate children. She has always, all ways, acted in the best interest of the students and cared with all of her heart.
She continued her own education and received her Doctorate degree, ran Special Olympics events, championed fine arts programs, kept ahead of technological advances to make sure her schools were provided available learning tools, etc., etc.
I would go on and on… but my mom doesn’t actually talk about herself all that much.
(Unlike me who has a blog to share stories.) (Well, to be fair she has a blog too but she’s not really one to talk about achievements.) (Neither am I for that matter, I suppose.) (Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.) (Sorry– please continue…)
Without further self-chatter interruption, I just want to say that I have an amazing mother and I aspire to give as she has given (and will continue to give… though not through a 9-5 capacity).
Cheers to “Freedom!” (We decided “retirement” seemed like an antiquated term.) Congrats, Mama Bella. I love you beyond measure.
xo
Moi
Let’s face it, business travel doesn’t exactly set the stage for truly experiencing WHERE you are. For example, a recent expedition I set out on went as follows:
Woke up in San Francisco. Flew to Minneapolis. Had meetings. Next day flew to Chicago. Had meetings. Next day flew to Los Angeles. Had meetings. Had more meetings. Flew back to San Francisco. By Friday– I could have been in a moon crater and I would only have about a 50% chance of knowing where I was.
And this is a dilemma for someone who actually likes to travel, such as myself.
So this week I had a wake-up-fly-to-Boston-have-meeting-have-another-meeting-then-fly-back-to-New York-in-one-day experience. Business, of course, plays center stage of the theatre production called My Crazy City Career, but here’s the supporting character in this performance: Adventure.
I’d never been to Boston! I really wanted to experience Boston!! New Place!!! New People!!!! New Adventure!!!!!
Was I able to do any of this?
No. Not really.
But I did what I could in the small windows (um. literally.) I had. Here are my tips to experiencing a new place when you have little time to do so:
1. When entering the New Place, open your eyes! If you’re flying, look up from your laptop or away from the tv screen and check out this New Place. An aerial view is a great way to get a sense of a New Place. (Boston! My face was basically glued to the little oval window soaking in the amazing historic-looking estates in the outskirts of the city, the white or brick church steeples, the purposeful boats in the harbor, the crazy zig-zagged streets of the city, etc.) If you don’t get to this New Place by air and you’re on a train, in a car, or perhaps arrive via beaming mechanism, my advice stands. Open your eyes and look around! (especially if you’re driving. good tip.)
2. In this New Place, be on the lookout for at least one detail that is A. unique to the location B. unique for you (something you see for the first time?). Really. Challenge yourself to spot just one thing, ONE THING, that is different from what you see in your “usual” day to day. And yes, I know, you’ve got a lot to do…very important things…blah blah blah. But…ONE THING. That’s all I’m asking for here. (In the Boston Logan airport I saw a row of white rocking chairs. So cool! Bringing a little bit of New England feel into the airport… well done!)
(photo by Matt Walker)
3. Take five minutes to relax yourself enough to receive this New Place. The architecture, the rhythms, the dialect, the food, the smell– receive it. Look, I know… you’ve got a Very Important Presentation you need to prepare for in your mind or a Very Important Meeting that needs to go “your way”… but to that I say this: relaxing enough to get yourself grounded where you are could actually help you to achieve success with whatever you’re there to accomplish. And taking a few deep breaths and noticing the life of a New Place can help you feel more alive in yourself (as opposed to feeling like a walking, flying, taxiing, laptop toting, smart phone addicted, Crazy City Career Zombie). (En route back to the Boston Logan airport, the taxi driver drove us along Newbury Street. Newbury Street!! Charming and astute architecture, trees lining the street, great feeling.) (*Sigh*) (*Smile*) (*return to checking emails*)
(This photo is not mine and doesn’t really capture what the street felt like to me…but it’s what I could find for now and shows a bit of the charm. Well, sort-of-but-not-really. Look, I don’t have time take an actual picture. Very Important Emails to be checked…)
4. Be Grateful. You have a job! You’re exploring new land! You’re getting out and about when otherwise you’d be cooped up in an office with office air and office chairs and office desks and office colors. While biz travel may add stress to your already stressful day, feel gratitude for at least one small moment. You’re alive. You’re doing your thing. You’re experiencing a New Place.
Safe travels and remember to (at least try to!) enjoy the show!
While I sip a Dirty Grey Goose martini and try my hardest to not let it drool out of my numb lips, I thought I’d write about my dentist.
Yes, my dentist.
For anyone who knows me– I love people and to take it even further, I love people’s stories. LOVE them. People fascinate me. The intent inside of people. The story. The choices. The loves. The losses…
As a friend of mine would say, I’m “ridiculously observant” of people.
So, today, as I sat in the dentist chair and waited for my mouth to go numb, I asked my new dentist a few surface questions (how’s your baby? etc.) and she offered some great answers that were not generic (!) so I dove in. (As my mother would say, I have the “courage to interrogate reality”). Here’s what I learned:
She’s fron Iran (ee-rawn not eye-ran) and she moved to the US to be a dentist at the age of 27. In Iran, women don’t work. And people don’t move anywhere, especially away from home as a single woman in search of a career.
People don’t move? I asked.
She feels this is unique to America. People move a lot here. I told her I’ve moved to Los Angeles, Atlanta, New York, San Francisco, etc., and she said, yes, exactly. People don’t do that in Iran.
So I asked her, (because I’m quite pre-occupied with “purpose” “career” and “service”), how did you know you wanted to be a dentist?
She said that she knew she was good with her hands (she is!), she didn’t want to sit at a desk all day (she get’s bored easily), and she likes people (let’s hope she likes people who ask life questions seeing that I’m the one asking and she’s the one with the sharp dental tools), and she likes that every patient is different– her days are never the same.
Love it! I wanted to dive in more– where did she get the confidence to leave even though her entire family was still in Iran? Did she feel that having a singular goal helped her to survive in a country by herself without knowing one person? How did she meet her husband? Etc, etc., etc.
But instead my mouth went numb and the drilling began… but honestly, I didn’t mind. I trusted this woman. And (I know this sounds crazy but) I enjoyed the time away from work to have this human moment. And while the high pitched wheeeeeeeeeee sounded, I got to think about life and the life of others.
How did she know she was good with her hands? Was there a moment? Did someone point it out? How did she connect this to dentistry?
And…
What am I good at? How do I contribute to the world, or my community, or a person?
Anyway– the martini is working and I’m starting to feel my lips again. (Of course if I drink another martini, I may not be able to feel my lips again.)
Here’s to all the independent women out there– doing it their way (and giving fillings to patients who have the courage to interrogate reality).
