Science!

Why can't I seem to find any answers? These days, I seem to have a lot of general preferences and vague directions in place, but nothing I could use to find an actual project or job to work on. Yesterday, it occurred to me that, during my previous career as a laboratory researcher, I went through a similar phase every time I started on a new project. I had a general question that I wanted to answer, but only the first inklings of what I was going to do to answer it.

I could see the first few steps ahead: do a literature search to see what had already been done, figure out the first bits of data that I needed to take and how to frame the experiments. Decide what data I could collect myself, and what I would need from other people. Collect the equipment and materials that I needed: buy, borrow, or build. Colleagues who were better at various things would stop by and offer advice -- where I could get that particular kind of copper tubing or silica aerogel, how to stop the vacuum pump oil from backstreaming into my sample holder, why my structure refinement refused to converge.

Run those first few experiments. Pause, evaluate the results, figure out what I knew that I didn't know before. Figure out what else I needed to know. Move forward.

As the results started to come in, I had to figure out a way to organize them and start a preliminary outline of a manuscript to send to a journal. Putting the results on a framework helped me see what parts were still missing and what parts made sense (or not). As the answer evolved, the questions would evolve as well. The challenge was to strike a balance between following the questions wherever they led and staying the course with my original direction of inquiry.

At some point, usually with a nudge from a colleague or mentor, I would write a paper for publication. There would always be more questions to answer, more fine-tuning on the results, but at some point I just had to put it out there for review. Refinements could come later, but if I didn't stake my claim, someone else would move in and I would lose my opportunity. (I found that out the hard way.)

I think that I must be in the literature search phase of my one-year exploration. I am reading books, going to seminars, taking notes, trying to frame my questions and collect the bits of answers that I already have. I am talking to potential collaborators and colleagues to see what they are doing. It's not simply a matter of running into the lab, sloshing a few things around, and yelling, "Eureka!" No, I'm going to have to do this like a science project.

Asking for Directions

I recently heard for the first time "Autobiography in Five Short Chapters” by Portia Nelson (who played Sister Berthe, the nun with car mechanic skills, in the movie The Sound of Music). This prose-poem (which I have copied below) really resonated with me, as I had always been taught that wisdom and maturity would help you out as you encountered similar situations over and over during the course of your life. Changing routes entirely was not mentioned -- you were supposed to deal with whatever came your way, not just up and change your route.

However, there have been times in my life when I felt as though I were speeding down a metaphorical freeway in the wrong direction. Either I had missed my exit or I had just gotten turned around entirely. The longer I went without changing direction, the farther I would be from where I intended to go. Going faster wasn't going to help, it would just get me to the wrong destination sooner. No, what I had to do was to exit the freeway as soon as possible, find a place to stop, and hope that I could either find a map or find someone who could give me some directions. At the very least, I could look around and see what direction the sun was coming from or maybe spot a familiar landmark. If it was a relatively familiar neighborhood, I could find a detour route that would put me back on track. Otherwise, I would have to get back onto the metaphorical freeway and go back the way I came until I could locate where it was that I had intended to go.

Julia Cameron, in her book The Artist's Way, notes that just when you have decided to make a bold change in your life, The Test seems to come. In my case, I had decided to leave my job and support myself on my savings for a year. I had even decided when I would turn in my notice and tell my co-workers. Right about that time, I received a promotion and a raise at work. I was grateful for the hard-earned recognition, but I sensed that staying in that job at the new level would be like flooring the accelerator pedal and heading full speed in the wrong direction.

So here I am, checking my map and getting helpful advice (or not) from friends and strangers. Little by little, I am getting a sense of my surroundings. I am taking it on faith that if I take it slowly and check my directions often enough, I will find myself back on track. Walking on a sidewalk with no holes (or at least different holes).

"Autobiography in Five Short Chapters” by Portia Nelson
I
I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost ... I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes me forever to find a way out.

II
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

III
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in ... it's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

IV
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

V
I walk down another street.

Inspiration, Respiration

"Breathe in, breathe out. Forget to do this, and achieving enlightenment will be the least of your problems."
From "Zen philosophy from your Jewish mother" -- a humorous post that circulated around the interwebs a few years ago

How wonderful that my breath does not depend on my mindfulness to keep itself going 24/7! I would never have lived this long. However, when I do decide to pay attention, it can be a trusted friend that helps me overcome my anxiety, clear my head, and keep me from injuring myself during yoga class.

Last night, my yoga teacher's theme was mindful breathing (pranayama). She reminded us that "inspiration" and "respiration" come from the same Latin root word. Our spirits and our breath have much in common. Inspiration is always there, ready to help us whenever we decide to pay attention, and nudging us subconsciously when we aren't paying attention. If we live in a toxic environment or we develop a case of "spiritual asthma", getting a fresh inspiration can be as difficult as getting a good, deep breath.

During last night's yoga class, we practiced "following the breath". This was a term that I had heard before, but never really processed the thought. I was pretty good at coordinating the bending and flexing with the inhaling and exhaling. No, our teacher said, first you start the inhalation, then you move into the pose. Let the exhalation begin before you start to come out of the pose. (Or vice versa, depending on which way we were moving.) Lead with the breath, let the body follow.

And appreciate the pause between inhalation and exhalation, as Joshua Rich reminds us. "It occurs to me today that within the waiting there is much happening .. that the world is affected and changed with every moment that I am alive, with every little and big thing I do .. and that while much of this effect is not seen or felt directly by me, it is happening nonetheless .."

In yesterday's blog post, I mentioned that I have some specific things in mind that I must do to move myself ahead on this path I have chosen. I have made small starts on these things, and I hope that once I have done them, the next steps ahead will become clear. But the start I have made is so small, and the days seem to slip by without my having accomplished much at all. (I'm still comparing my productivity to my exhausting days before I began this sabbatical.) Last night I thought, "Lead with the breath." The inspiration is here. The actions are following. Take another breath, move a little more. Let the actions follow the inspiration. If it works for spine-flexing exercises, why not try it with soul-flexing exercises?

Testing My Wings

In the last week or so, I have sensed the beginnings of a shift from "ought to" to "going to". "Going to" is not very good about following my do-list from top to bottom. It does cover some of the items on my list, things that I know I'm going to need to do. Other projects, ones that I used to wish that I had time for, and now I do have time for, have somehow lost priority. The paperless (or at least less-paper) office, the museum trips, the unfinished craft projects. Oh, these things will happen, but they will be interspersed with the "going to" things.

"Going to" includes revamping my professional website (with the help of my sister, who is taking classes in web design), resurrecting the science blog and news feed that never quite got off the ground (stay tuned for more details as they develop), reading "The Vein of Gold" by Julia Cameron (which I have owned for years but never got around to reading) and actually doing the exercises in the book. (I'm up to age 20 in my narrative timeline.)

That doesn't mean that there's no time for fun, spontaneity, long walks, or sitting on my balcony watching the birds and squirrels. It just means that now I have some nascent little ideas of what I need to be doing, and I'm making a small start on actually doing them.

Speaking of spontaneity, I just go back from a day trip to Philadelphia that I decided to take just a few days beforehand. A friend of mine was being installed as an Ethical Culture leader, and another friend was asking around to see if anyone could give her a ride to the ceremony. I had been sitting on the fence about going until then, but I said yes. Three of us rode in my car. We had a wonderful time, met some new people, and afterward, we stopped in to see some old friends who had moved to that neighborhood ten years ago. It felt really good to be out and about again, taking in a change of scenery, renewing old friendships, walking through Rittenhouse Square on a perfect spring day. Even getting (briefly) lost at night on the way back to the highway was not so scary, since I had my two friends helping me look for road signs.

The Philadelphia trip was not on the do-list, but it fit perfectly into the scheme of what I needed to do, who I needed to see, and how I should be moving forward. Someone once said that they didn't need to see their destination, just the next few steps forward on the road. Well, I think my flashlight just turned on, and I know where to put my feet for the next few steps. I can't see beyond that until I actually take those steps, so I'm working on that now.

Do It Anyway

Middle age is when many of us turn to those who told us 20 years ago that we must "clip our wings and soften our ways", take a deep breath, and say, "Phhhhbbbbttthhhttt!"

This was on the front page of today's Washington Post (dead tree version):

For a D.C. hairdresser, a love of figure skating becomes a dream fulfilled
He was 7, 8, maybe, a skinny boy in Baltimore with dishwater blond hair brushing shaggy against his collar, and he was in love with Peggy. Peggy Fleming. ... That was when he knew. That was when he knew he was destined to become an ice skater.

But he didn’t.

He became a hairdresser.

Who are we kidding. Childhood fantasies cannot keep pace with the realities of adulthood, the unsettling realizations of one’s own physical limitations, the acceptance of practical career paths, fixed-rate mortgages, respectable leisure activities, weak ankles.

Bolek got married. He opened up his own salon, Michael Anthony, on Capitol Hill. He had a son. He turned 38, 39. He acquired the gentlest of paunches — barely a slope — and a Hip Dad haircut — layered, streaked, as blond as the blond of his childhood.

Then he became an ice skater.

On Friday, [Mickey] Bolek, who is now 46 and who could not so much as manage a toe pick seven years ago, will compete nationally for the first time in the 2012 U.S. Adult Figure Skating Championships. ...
***

Adelie penguin photograph by: Timothy Russer, TSGT, USAF
National Science Foundation

An "Everything-Else" Anecdote

In typical fashion, I thought of a pertinent anecdote the morning after I published my blog post. It's worth passing along, though, so here it is -- a "definitely not me" moment that helped me see what is "definitely me".

Several years ago, I had a job that involved writing articles for a government agency's in-house newsletter. One morning, I sat in on a town-hall type discussion between the Cabinet undersecretary who oversaw that agency and a group of professional women who held civil service jobs with that agency. These women were at the middle management level, and many of them had advanced degrees and many years of work experience. The undersecretary asked if there were any specific practices that these women felt were holding them back in their careers. I don't know if the women had discussed this in advance, but one issue immediately took center stage.

The women complained that they would get training and certifications that had been recommended by their higher-ups, and then return to their same jobs and responsibilities as if nothing had happened. The undersecretary asked if the higher-ups had sent them to these classes specifically in preparation for a promotion, or if there were specific job openings that these women were preparing to apply for. Well, no, the women conceded. Had they been networking with their colleagues in other agencies in order to identify opportunities for advancement? The women looked confused. (This confused me. Was this a new concept for them?)

The undersecretary explained that continuing education and training was a long-term investment. This wasn't like school, where you automatically advance a grade when you complete your assignments. By keeping your skills current and expanding your capabilities, you will be ready when an opportunity does present itself. By taking an active interest in your own personal development, you will make it more likely that your name is the one that comes up when your higher-ups are looking to fill a position. However, if your agency is one where these higher position openings are few and far between, you may need to seek advancement opportunities in other agencies.

What! The look of shock on these women's faces came as a total surprise to me. Had it never occurred to them that they could work in other agencies, or even move into the private sector? Apparently not. Judging by the number of women who expressed disbelief and dismay at the very idea of leaving their beloved agency, this was a very new and unwelcome idea.

I had never experienced this degree of job security -- where the expectation was that you could just show up and check off the boxes, and the conveyor belt would automatically carry you higher, with no further effort on your part. Having gone through temporary positions, layoffs, freelancing, and flat-out unemployment, I have learned that keeping one's skills fresh is a never-ending endeavor. The payoff might not be immediate, but if an opportunity comes up and you're not prepared, then there's no payoff at all. I have learned that sometimes the only way to move up is to move out, and the best way to move out is to know people "out there". If the prepackaged deal chafes and constricts, then you have to design your own package. It hadn't occurred to me that experienced professionals could get that far into their careers and not know that.

"Not-me" experiences are worth remembering, because they help to bring the "definitely me" picture into focus.

"Everything Else" Provides an Outline

One way of discerning the shape of an object is to fill in the space where the object isn't. I generally try to "stay positive" in my thinking, but I'm going to provide some outlines by listing some ideas that no longer work for me:

Your life's work is your job. Your career and a large part of your identity are defined by where you work, who you work for, and what you do for income. Your job is a prepackaged set of duties, defined by your employers on their terms. You are expected to help them advance their enterprise. The effect this has on you is of no consequence.

Work is hell. Part of being an adult is resigning yourself to work you don't enjoy because it brings in the money you need to buy the stuff you think you are supposed to have. It's not supposed to be fun, that's why they call it work. Just be glad you have a job.

Pie in the sky by and by. If you make enough money (after you finish paying for all your stuff), one day, you will be able to retire. Hope like hell that you are still healthy enough and rich enough to work in a few of the enjoyable, fulfilling things that you never found time for when you were working.

School is meant to prepare you for work. The reason you go to college is to put you onto a career path that brings in lots of money, so you can buy lots of stuff and eventually retire. All those humanities electives and extracurricular activities are a waste of time, unless they help you meet important people who will help you make a good start to your career. You don't have to enjoy your studies or like the career you are studying for, just as long as it makes you rich.

Busier is better. Life is just one big contest to see who can put in the most hours on the job and who can cram the most tasks into their day. The people who hold staff meetings by cell phone while driving way over the speed limit from company headquarters to the branch location are the ones who get promoted.

You have to be a team player. As in, "take one for the team", not "your team is there to back you up". Show up for all the company social events, wear the polo shirts with the company logo, skip your kid's baseball game for the all-hands meeting, make sure that you speak to the CEO every chance you get so that he remembers who you are.

Getting kicked off the team is a fate worse than death. The company provides you with your identity. If you think that the company is about to downsize, you must redouble your efforts, work longer hours, multitask better, and score as much face time as possible with anyone holding the rank of vice president or higher. If you are laid off, no one will ever hire you again. You will go bankrupt, your family and friends will leave you, and the rest of your life will be miserable.

Never hire anyone over 30. New college hires are inexpensive, plentiful, healthy, energetic, and accustomed to pulling all-nighters. Hiring people right out of college cuts down on your employee development costs, since you're letting the kids' parents pay the tuition for all the latest and greatest technical training. Once this training becomes outdated, hire some new kids. Corollary: If your hair is turning gray, you must dye it so that no one will ever know how old you really are.

As I said, those are some of the ideas I'm throwing onto the scrap heap. My hope is that once they are cleared out of the way, the picture of what I do want can emerge into sharper focus.