Earthworm Digest 8-29-09: Been Way Too Long Edition

I. Table of Contents
II. Of idle time spent
III. Search Party
IV. Of time well spent
V. On stillness
VI. More to come

II. I'm happy to report that time has treated me well since I last wrote. Not that an ambiguous poem about relationships past is any sort of gauge as to how things were going, and not that things were at all going too poorly last October, but now is, on many levels, better. I want to talk more about the triumphs that occurred over the last year in the fourth section of this rambling, but I wanted to spend a few moments first reflecting on where I was for a good while.

A good place to start might be shortly before I completed graduate school. I was very satisfied with the fact that I had finished all the classes, the assignments, the big final project, and had done so with aplomb and success both in the classroom and with making good relationships with people all over the program. The Asia trip was an incredible experience, and I was fired up and ready to take on The Next Phase.

The Next Phase, as cultivated in my mind, involved a number of changes and improvements to any number of facets of my existence, though mainly professionally and socially. I had expectations of finding a job within a few months, using my increased energy and finances to pursue hobbies I had been putting off and cultivating a satisfying and full social life, not to mention the much needed leaving of the old job happening quickly. There was to be sweet relief of new horizons and opportunities, the excitement of new connections and adventures, and the satisfaction of all such successes.

Much like reading Great Expectations after watching the movie, things didn't necessarily proceed as I had pictured them, and were far more belabored and long-winded than predicted. I spent a lot of time--a lot of time--doing the little, mundane repetitions of job searching: tweaking resumes, writing cover letters, searching job boards, and not hearing anything back from anyone. I was very focused on this banal exercise, spending most of my mental energy on dealing with it every week, and living a bit of an ascetic existence as I waited for the tide to change and The Next Phase to come into effect.

Well, to wrap things up a bit to get to my actual point, I ended up taking some classes, and through those classes I accepted the necessity and utility of networking, and in doing so found a good group of green energy professionals that had a good informal networking event monthly, and through persistence there, I found a job. Thus began the mentally revised Next Phase, and this continues today.

What I remember about that time was the self-inflicted pressure and stress. It was not exactly unnecessary, as it kept me focused and working hard on finding the break I needed. I kept having to push and keep going, though I took a while to figure out that sometimes I was merely banging my head on the wall and not really doing much progress. One of the best periodic routines I got into was shifting my perspective on things and trying to find a new route or new method in working at things. That, plus getting better at the legwork, really helped things out in the end.

Still, there was a lot of doing nothing. This was the hardest thing to accept, for some reason. I did always want to be doing something, and I felt bad for the longest time if there wasn't something I could do. I wanted to find that in, that break, so strongly that when I couldn't, I still internalized it and took some sort of responsibility for it. Once I figured out that there was only so much I could do some days--or weeks--and needed to relax otherwise, things started to go better for me.

In other terms of idle time, I was probably most guilty of indulging it at my old job. It was difficult to muster the same passion when 1.) I had long outgrown my job and there was nowhere to go with it, and 2.) I was constantly disgruntled that I wasn't out of it yet. When management provides no incentive to do otherwise, it is hard not to do the least possible to get by. I wasn't happy about it, but that's what I did. It was all I had to do. I look forward to fighting this sort of thing when I get the chance to manage people; I think there are always creative and effective ways to keep people involved in their work, if one does the creative thinking and the heavy lifting necessary.

Thankfully, this is only the past. As I was reminded of this evening, my current magic eight ball reads 'Outlook Positive' and I definitely don't mind that at all.

III. Your name was once Biff. Where are you now? Are you 'F'?

IV. It's been a great summer. I decided early on that I had it in my new-found new-job power that I could do something... oh my goodness... fun. Fun turned out to be a seven hundred mile summer of biking. It was my goal to do a century--100 miles--by the end of the summer. Now, the longest trip I'd done on a bike was around 67 miles, and while fun, it was quite tiring. Early on in the biking season, I got out for a forty mile ride with a new coworker, and we had talked about wanting to do 100 miles, and a little light clicked on that I probably could figure out an organized ride at some point over the summer to do this.

So, I signed up for two.

Actually, I signed up for two and a half.

The Oregon Bike MS fundraiser was the first one I signed up for, with 100 miles the first day and 50 miles the second day. It was a very well organized ride down near Salem, with events and camping and the monies going towards a good cause. It was also the longest two-day bike mileage total I had ever aimed to do, and it was quite hot those two days--in the 90s any time past noon.

And I did it. All 155+ miles. And it felt great to be done.

The second trip was the Portland Century, entailing 100 miles around many scenic Portland locations, a little higher quality food, and many, many more bicyclists. There were a few gnarly accidents as folks bombed down hills they were unfamiliar with on super-light bikes, and--of course; who plans this--a head wind on Marine Drive as we went westward back into town.

And I did it. All 100+ miles and killer hills. And it felt great to be done.

I say 'it felt great to be done' both on the accomplishment side and the one about wanting to get my sore legs off the bike. The MS Ride, despite the heat, wasn't nearly as mentally tough as the Portland one for whatever reason. Perhaps because I was not as familiar with the MS route--I knew nearly every moment of the Portland ride from previous outings--or that I had already spent my energy allotment on the MS Ride. I enjoyed them both, though probably won't do two centuries within two weeks of one another again. I've learned to pick my centuries wisely. Next year, my hope is to do RAGBRAI, and then the Harvest Century back here in Oregon.

One of the best things about those rides was actually working up to them. I accomplished feats of biking that I hadn't done before, like doing some massive climbs--including Larch Mt. Road out near Troutdale--finding new and interesting biking routes, and having a very regular schedule of 40+ mile rides. Next year I plan to train a little smarter, doing some hill exercises and more sprint sessions during the flatter rides.

I learned, though, that I still have room for, and can, improve. I'm nowhere near a decline on physical abilities, and have plenty of time to achieve that which I previously did not think I could, and--yes, amazingly--enjoy it while I'm at it.

This is not to mention that I need something to balance out my other Summer hobby, that of making pies full of butter and sugar.

V. Part of wanting to work from a place of stillness is to make sure that being still is enough of a thing to be. Wanting to move is the only thing that makes staying put suck.

VI. It's nearly the official start to Autumn, though intermittent Portland weather changes are trying to convince us that Summer is over. I'm ready for the fall, though I have no foresight into its coming events. I don't even have many plans, aside from celebrating the harvest as often as possible and watching football many hours.

Still, I always look forward to the shift of weather, and, despite my mood's inherent circuitry, the changes in the sun's presence. I regularly get a little nostalgic when the leaves change and the air turns crisp, thinking back to powerful moments in the past: rambling through Decorah neighborhoods with the aforementioned Biff and her friend, the good Halloweens past, pumpkin patch roaming with Ivy and Patrick, that late afternoon light that coats everything in a warm yellow glow, and many walks among too many lovely trees. Something about this reminds me of the possibilities that fall has often brought, of how turning inward and letting go of the more active times can help lead to renewal and fortifications of what is at the core, and of how internal warmth provides for so much more fulfilling comfort than external.

Bring on the hoodies, apples, pears, pumpkins, colors, blankets, and memories. There's so much more to come, and it's time we enjoyed the bounty of our harvest, tend to the fields to make sure they're ready for when it's time to plant again, and prepare for the opportunities that await on the other side of our hibernation months.

--all debts, public and private--