Category Archives: career

A new look and an old question.

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Coffee-shop-blog-post outfit.

Coffee-shop-blog-post outfit.

You may have noticed that my blog has changed. You, Friend, are very perceptive. I decided, in light of my recent perspective shifts, that the View From the Bay should shift also. It’s a sleeker, more grown-up look, just like me. Ha! Just kidding. I’ve been wanted to swap it up for a while, because I didn’t like how narrow the text column was, which is irksome to my eye and most likely to yours as well. I like to write and I don’t need my posts seeming optically to be longer than they already are.

As for me being all changed and whatnot, well, that part’s true. Though, strangely, I’m quite at peace with myself. Not that I was expecting to go all “cray” and act out in my internal struggle, cutting my hair with rusty kitchen scissors in a fit of angst. Yes, that is from a country song. It’s been kind of like a breakup.

Don’t worry, though; we don’t even have rusty kitchen scissors. That’s just unsanitary.

The thing is, I am changed. Pretty profoundly. And to be honest, I struggled against it (clearly, as my last post conveyed). I didn’t think I could change me without losing me, if that makes sense. Instead, I’m pleased to learn that I’m still me, just more of me. Unfiltered, though not completely, by any means. A little more true. There was no loss that cost me anything I didn’t want to lose. It’s like being hypnotized: No one can really make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not saying I’m perfect (though I am, and so are you), at least not in terms of my journey. I’m pretty sure I’ve only dipped my toes in, and I’ve got a long way to go. I think that’s what life is about. It’d be pretty boring if I was on the top of my game with nowhere to go already.

I love this quote by R.W.E. and I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean this was something you just do once:

Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m a little surprised to see that life goes on as it did before. I don’t mean to sound all dramatic (though I realize I often do, but let’s face it: I’m a star), but honestly, it’s like the sky should be, or could be, a different colour. It’s not, but I will say I can appreciate the sky in whatever shade it shows up, without thinking about what it should be, so that I can have something to resent. I spent a lot of time shaking my fist at the sky, chastising it for not being something other than what it was.

And, if you think I’m just talking about sunshine and blue skies here, you’re missing the point. I’ve spent a lot of time experiencing my entire life and my relationships with people, animals, inanimate objects and fairy tales, through what they should be, or should have been or not been. It’s exhausting and let me tell you how well that was working out for me: Not so much. Unless you count me having the right to be angry and disappointed all the time. Not exactly a blue-ribbon life, huh?

peterpanAs for my old question, well here it is:

What do I want to be when I grow up?

Thing is, I’m still not sure. It’s really frustrating and it’s a question that’s plagued me for a long time. In my full-time business of making every little thing so gawd-damned significant, I’ve been utterly paralyzed. I’ve stayed where I don’t want to be, afraid to answer the question with anything but “I don’t know”. I’m not sure who I expect to have the answers to what I’d like to be when I grow up, but clearly, it wasn’t me.

 

Maybe I’m going to be many things. Maybe moving on doesn’t have to be so bloody significant. Maybe I move on to something and it’s the wrong something, and I move on again. Maybe I mess up and go backwards. So far, nothing in my life has done anything but add to who I am today, so why don’t I pry off those fingers of fear that have been holding me back?

I’m trying. I often wear a necklace that Adam bought me for my birthday (he bought me Runaway Girl for a wedding present—subtle irony intended): It’s the silhouette of a little girl wearing a cape. I love her fearlessness and her can-do attitude. Maybe it’s time I try my cape on, instead of just talking about it. Time to actually try something, instead of worrying about whether it’s going to work out. Because there’s no way I can actually know that and staying put isn’t working out for me so well, anyway.

Do you recognize any of this in yourself? Are you holding yourself back? What’s in your way?

Growing pains.

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Hey my peeps! How are you? I’m pretty good. It’s a long weekend, for one thing. Tough to beat a long weekend. It’s been about two years since I lost flex days, which have to be just about the best work flexibility ever. I sure miss my Monday flex days. Some people prefer Fridays, but here’s my strategy behind Mondays:

  • Mondays are kind of a bummer. Because they’re all Monday-ish.
  • Fridays, however, are pretty much awesome. You can wear jeans on Friday and everyone’s in a good mood, what with the impending weekend and all.

Therefore, why would I want to miss Fridays? Much better to miss every other Monday. Plus, long weekends are often Mondays, so then you get Tuesdays off, too. Anyway, I don’t get flex days anymore. I work the same hours, actually more, but alas! No flex days in recognition of it. I do definitely have a pretty flexible situation at work, so I’m not really, really complaining (much). But I still miss them…

So, I said I’d fill you in on the coaching training I’m doing. This could be a really long post, but I’ll give you the Cole’s Notes version.

The long and short of it is that I’m taking a year-long, super-intense training and accreditation program in life coaching. “Life coaching?” you say. “Oh geez. I can’t take Bay seriously now.” I know what you mean. I nearly couldn’t either, when Adam started looking into coaching. But after witnessing his personal transformation this past year, as well as seeing the results in some of the people he’s worked with, I started to change my tune. I wanted it for me. I want me out of my way. Some people live really amazing lives and, quite frankly, I’m tired of envying them. I want to be them. So I dove in.

Thus far, it’s been hard. This style of coaching is called ontological (I totally had to Google it, too). This basically means it focuses on who you are being, as opposed to what you are doing. I mean, there is power in this. But there is also discomfort. For reals. I remember when I was 13 or so and grew four inches in one year. It friggin’ HURT! It felt awkward and achey and uncomfortable. Turns out that personal transformation feels pretty much the same.

So far, both weekends I’ve been in training have been tough (this is somewhat misleading: we meet in-person in Seattle one weekend per month, but there is mad work to be done in between. I guess I’m saying that if you don’t get phone calls or coffee date requests from me, don’t take it personally.).

Tough. Ha! Understatement of the year. I LOST it, very publicly, on more than one occasion. I mean alternating between wracking, heaving, can’t-exhale sobbing and simultaneously saying, “Feck all y’all” on repeat while envisioning doing great physical harm to people. Not killing them (I’m not a monster!), but I was pretty much a Virtua Fighter in my mind. Like a crazy one, with mad ninja skillz and a cold, cruel disregard for pain.

Why was I mentally orchestrating such pointed violence, you ask? Well, there were many reasons, but largely they were of my own interpretation (so I see now. This awareness was not available to me last weekend.). Imagine you have a bear. A big angry momma bear (I think they’re grumpier), and you’ve taken away her cubs and her salmon and berries (this is all that I know that they eat, apart from hapless people), backed her into a corner and then poked at her with sticks. Picture her response, multiply it by 12 and you might be getting closer to envisioning my emotional/mental state last weekend.

The good news is that I’ve come out the other end of each weekend a better person. To my mind’s eye, too quickly for my comfort, my perceptions have shifted and I’m noticing that I’m noticing things. Hilariously, I didn’t want to admit this. That’s what I mean by too quickly. Perhaps that isn’t hilarious. More indicative, really, of some stuff I need to deal with. And this transformation is what I signed up for, after all. Add to this the fact that I am actually really enjoying coaching people (I was really not sure how I’d do/feel, but I’m loving it) and really, things are going swimmingly, if not always smoothly.

I feel like that’s a pretty heavy post, so I’ll stop rambling here. I’ll share more of what I’ve learned about me soon. And I promise I’m okay. Better than that, really. Much better. Some old chains are falling off and it feels much nicer. Lighter. More free.

 

Sometimes, you just need to get a new perspective.

Sometimes, you just need to get a new perspective.

Back to the future.

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So, as you may or may not know, my amazingly talented, clever and handsome Adam is <<this>> close to completing his law degree. Tell you what; it’s not a moment too soon. Seriously, between my MBA and his Law degree, this most-recent round of post-secondary education has been epic. Not complaining, because wouldn’t that be extremely first-world-problems of me, but still. Still. We have acquired great friends, fabulous experiences, much learning and debt. Oh, Debt: You are a cruel mistress. I will not be sorry to see you go (whenever that may be, which, according to Canada Student Loans, is approximately 3 months into the year 2326).

Adam is also doing coaching training, so he can be using his significant talents and inspiring enthusiasm to help people to find themselves and to follow their true paths. It’s a pretty noble calling. He is also currently looking for articles, which is a new development (that I think is a very good idea for many reasons, after many changes in direction). This is where we might see some big changes.

You see, finding articles can be tricky. They’re very tricksy and they like to hide on the nice law students who seek them. Sometimes, they hide under rocks, in treasure chests in sunken/hidden pirate ships in secret lagoons (oh, wait—no, that was The Goonies) and in places like <<gasp>> Saskatchewan. Now, I love this great country, but I kind of sort of have no real use for the middle bits. I’m sure they’re lovely, to some people. Mainly to those people who are prairie people. I am just not those people. I have lived on one coast or the other, my whole life. I like the water. Endless rolling fields make me nervous.

I am maintaining positive thoughts that we will get to remain here in Victoria. Otherwise, we are moving and I’m trying to maintain positive thoughts about that option, too. This is harder for me. Those who know me may understand that I am somewhat, just a little bit, entirely resistant to change. I’m working on it. But seriously you guys, I come by it honestly: Did you know that by the time I was 4 years old, I had lived in Nova Scotia, then British Columbia, then Nova Scotia again? And by the time I was 7.5 years old, I was back in BC? I’d attended three elementary schools by half-way through grade 1.

If I count the moves I can recall between apartments growing up (after age 4 and before I moved out on my own at age 22), I lose count at 15 moves. I know I’m missing some, but regardless, that’s a lot of moves. I mean, maybe not if you are a military family, though I still think it’s above average even in that circle. But the thing is, I’m not from a military family. All that moving  has left me averse to things I am working on overcoming, such as shifting furniture. Also my fear of cardboard boxes.

Hence why I’m working on my attitude to moving for a year for articles. I’m trying to think of it as a grand adventure. Sometimes, I think it would be really cool to live somewhere completely new for a while. After all, nearly all of Adam’s fellow students (and our dearest friends, whom we’ll miss when they move back home), dropped everything and came out here for three whole years!

What would I do? Would I lose my job? Would we have to sell our home (strata rules dictate that we can’t rent it out)? I don’t know the answers to those questions. I do know, however, that no matter what, it’ll all work out. Because it always does (check out Adam’s speech if you don’t believe me).

That wasn’t a very amusing post. It probably would’ve been more funny if you were able to see me counting apartments on my fingers. Several times. Because I lost count. On my own fingers. How is that even possible?

The last person I saw having difficulty counting on his fingers...

An MBA who can’t even effectively count on her fingers. No wonder Finance made me cry…