Visualizing my future

Lately I have been focusing on what I don’t like about living in Austin.  It comes down to three basic things:

(1) It doesn’t rain.  Ever.

(2) It is far from my family.  Being a short walk from my sister, brother, parents, and new nephew?  Priceless.  I love my family and I miss them terribly.

(3) It’s a big city and we are small town folks.  All things considered, Austin is a “good” big city for us (much better than say, Dallas, Houston, Chicago, or Atlanta–no offense to the millions who live there), but it’s still a big city.  I need to be able to bike out of town in fifteen minutes or less.  I need to see nature and not unless subdivisions sprawling into infinity.  I need to get out.

I know I don’t want to stay here forever, but I also know that realistically we will be here for at least two more years.  N loves his job.  In fact, it’s his dream job, minus the less than ideal location.  I’m trying to find the balance between staying focused on what will bring me the most happiness (to move back to Missouri or Arkansas), but also not letting that focus lead me into a downward spiral of negativity about where we are now.

It’s hard.  Especially when I look up houses in my hometown and they are so cheap and beautiful and close to my family and in a land where it rains.  Someday, someday.

Job searching. Or not.

My nineteen years of education prepared me for a job I do not want.  It prepared me to sit in front of a computer screen, synthesize complex material, and then write about it.  While I hated writing for school, I always thought that when it was for work, I would enjoy it.

I was wrong.

In the few months as I desperately tried to write my final essay (read: thesis) for my master’s degree, I decided I wanted to farm.  I wanted to be outside, to do something physical.  I wanted work where at the end of the day I could physically see what I had accomplished.  While many of my peers and some of my friends wrote it off as a phase or one of my half-baked ideas that would never come to fruition (I have many of these), I continued to believe.  Unlike my fellow graduates, I did not start looking for work in my field.  Instead, I looked for places to farm through the World Wide Organization of Organic Farms (WWOOF).

Lucky for me, Neil more than willing to take a break from the grind and delay the job search in the name of learning to grow our own food.  After two months on two different farms in Oregon, we went back to reality.

Sort of.

Neil did the job search, I held down two minimum-wage jobs to pay the bills until he found something.  Not the best months of our lives, aside from the fact I was living in my home town and got to see my family, who I adore despite (or perhaps because of) of our quirks.  Let’s just say that working in a popular bookstore and waiting tables in my hometown during the holidays meant I got to see everyone I knew from high school, and their mother.  It’s great fun to see all your classmates years later when you’re working an unskilled labor job.  Let’s just say I ate my fill of humble pie.

Three months later: Neil secured a job, which meant it was my turn to figure out what the heck I was going to do now that school is behind me and the dark cloud of looming bills was not pushing me to work more than forty-hours a week at low-wage jobs.

At first, I tried to find jobs in my field.  Every morning I would browse the job search engines looking for openings in our new town.  Every morning I found find several that I qualified for and I would dutifully open them up into new tabs with the intention of drafting cover letters and tailoring my resume to fit the bill.

And then I’d close my browser.

I didn’t want any of those jobs.  The thought of sitting at a desk analyzing policies was enough to make me want to bang my hand against a wall.  Repeatedly.  I didn’t see the point of applying for a job I didn’t want.  When anyone would ask I would say I was doing the job search, but it was a lie.  My heart wasn’t in it.

While I may not have wanted to jump into the workforce, I also knew I couldn’t stay in our apartment with nothing to do.  Less than a week of that and I was already losing my mind.  Quickly.

So what’s a girl to do?  Volunteer.  I googled urban agriculture in our city and emailed every place I found.  I wasn’t bringing home the bacon, but I brought home plenty of squash.

I loved it.  I loved being outside, I loved meeting people who had common interests, I loved working with my hands.  The more I volunteered, the less I motivated I was to apply for “real” jobs.  Whenever anyone would ask, I continued to say that I was doing the job search.

It was a lie.

Some point along the way (shortly after reading Radical Homemakers), I decided that I wasn’t going to say I was doing the job search.  I was going to tell people that I was learning how to grow my own food.  If that lead to awkward silence, then it would lead to awkward silence.

So here I am, five months into our lives in the Lone Star State and fourteen months as a Master of Public Policy, pulling up weeds in 100 degree plus weather.  For free.  I won’t say there aren’t times I have questioned where I am and where I’m headed, but I do know that it is the right decision for right now.  Sometimes I wonder whether I’m setting myself up to fail five or ten years down the line when I want a “real” job and have no experience and have emptied my brain of everything I learned in school, but then I push the thought aside and focus on what’s good for me today.  Because who wants to trade happiness now out of fear of the future?

Not me.

Awkward Conversations

Why do dental hygienists always try to talk to you while they’re cleaning your teeth?  Can’t they see that it is impossible to answer their questions while you’re mouth is wide open and they have metal tools scrapping away at your teeth?  Here’s a conversation I had today while at the dentist:

(After discussing that I moved here in March after my husband got a job.)

Her: So have you found a job yet?

Me: No, right now I’m volunteering.

Her: Oh, okay.

(Approximately ten minutes later)

Her: So what kind of work are you looking for?

Me: I’m not.  I’m happy volunteering on farms and learning how to grow food.

Her: Oh.

(Awkward silence)

Not actively looking for work has made me aware of how many aspects of our society center our identity on what we do and how much money we make doing it.

One of the first questions you ask someone when you meet them is, “So, what do you do?”  I’m guilty of it.  We all are.  I’ve found that many people, like my dental hygienist, simply don’t know how to respond when your answer is not what they expect.

It’s okay for a mother of young children to be staying home and not working, but somehow my volunteering five days a week, growing food for my family in a community garden, cooking healthy meals for us each day, and generally keeping our household in order, all while creating time and space to nurture myself and my relationships with my husband, friends and family, is not okay.  I’m not meaning to begrudge stay-at-home moms in that last statement; in fact, I hope to become one of them in short order.  But it does seem to me that people are more comfortable with the idea of a woman staying at home when she has children.  Without children people assume that I am a disempowered housewife who missed the feminist revolution.  I get a lot of confused looks and blank stares while I explain to people how I’m learning to grow my own food in order to better provide for my family.

And that’s when they politely change the subject.

Does this bring me joy?

That’s the question I am trying to ask myself every day.  I spend a lot of time doing activities because they are habits (reading blogs, watching television shows online, etc.), not because they bring me any lasting satisfaction.  I’m trying to cut those activities out and reevaluate how I am spending my time by repeatedly asking myself: “Does this bring me joy?”  I’m still working on actually stopping the activities that don’t, but that is easier said than done.

One day at a time.

Taking Care of Myself

Why is it so hard to put myself first?

I have been having a bit of a rough week physically.  Monday I pulled a muscle in my back.  Tuesday I felt feverish and sick to my stomach.  Nothing serious, I just wasn’t at the top of my game.  Normally I volunteer at a local farm on Tuesday and Wednesday morning.  The farm is just over nine miles away by bike.  On Tuesday I didn’t go in because my back was still sore and riding that far and then doing all the work on the farm didn’t seem like a good idea.

I wanted to go this morning because I felt bad missing the entire week.  I set my alarm for 6:30.  At 5:30 I woke up and could not go back to sleep because my mind was racing with all of things I needed to accomplish today (go to the library, get groceries, make dinner, clean the kitchen, go to the market, finish up a cover letter and resume for an internship…).  At 6:00 I finally stopped trying to sleep and got out of bed to start working on my cover letter and get ready for the farm.  I didn’t get enough sleep, still wasn’t feeling a hundred percent, and was still determined to go to the farm.

Why is it so hard to put myself first?  Why do I feel like I’m letting everyone down when I take a day to slow down and take care of my body?  I used to run my body into the ground whenever I was getting sick because I refused to say no and admit I needed a break.  I’m trying to break that habit, but it’s a work in progress.  Even though I knew that taking the day off was the best thing for my body, I was plagued by irrational fears that people would judge me or think less of me for not showing up.

I didn’t go to the farm today.  And that’s okay.  I’m learning to listen to my body and follow through on what it needs instead of worrying about how other people will perceive my choices.  Easier said than done, but I’m getting there.

What to do when unemployed? Volunteer.

When I found out we were moving to Austin, I wanted to be sure to find ways to become involved in the community and to reach out and meet people.  Getting off my couch and out the door is easier said than done, but I am working on it.  Right now I am volunteering at a few different spots: two farms, the farmer’s market, the Yellow Bike Project, and I’m starting to work with the League of Bicycle Voters.  It may sound like a lot, but it comes out to about 20 hours a week.  Still plenty of time to job search (although my motivation is lacking in that area), grocery shop, cook, and read.

Now that I don’t have to wait tables or work retail in order to pay the bills (not that I have anything against people who do that… believe me, I’ve been there my fair share) I am trying to focus on my interests.  I don’t want to jump into something just to make money and then get sidetracked from my long term goals.  Fortunately, we are in a position where I don’t need to be working full time in order to make ends meet.  Instead, I can focus on activities that bring joy into both my life and the world.

The big news in my life is that I now have a community garden plot!  The first place I looked had a year long waiting list.  I emailed the other nearby community garden, but held out little hope that there would be a spot available after hearing how the long the waiting list was at the first place.  When I didn’t hear back in two weeks, I figured it was a lost cause.  On Friday night, I got an email saying there was a spot available and asked if I was still interested.  Heck yes I was interested!  I’ve worked on a few farms both in Oregon and here in Texas, but I haven’t actually had my own plot (it’s hard to garden in an apartment without a yard, especially when I haven’t even had a balcony or porch for potted plants).  The plot had been abandoned by its previous cultivator and was overgrown with weeds.  This morning I started attacking the weeds with my bare hands.  I got about two thirds through when I realized that my failure to wear gloves was tearing my hands apart.  Whoops!  I’m going to head back out (with gloves) tonight to finish the weeding and to work in some compost and soil.  I’m starting a little late in the season, but hopefully I’ll get some juicy tomatoes and other treats as summer approaches.

Overcoming Inertia, One Step at a Time

Why is it so hard to start something new?  I wrote down a whole list of ways to become involved in the Austin community (yes, I’m a nerd and I actually wrote it down on a piece of paper).  But making myself go?  SO hard.  The top three items on the list are joining a church, volunteering/interning at a farm, and volunteering at the local bike co-op.

Joining a church.  Two weeks ago I went to the local Unitarian church; last week my husband came with me.  They have an active young adults group and I am hoping to get involved that way.  I do much better meeting people in a smaller group as opposed to trying to make small talk with everyone standing around after church.  Actually, I don’t do the fellowship after church very well.  I know I should stay and introduce myself, but I find it terribly awkward.  That’s where the small group and Sunday school classes come in.  I will keep you posted on that adventure.

Volunteering at a farm.  I made excuses all of last week as to why I couldn’t go (I don’t have a cutting tool, I don’t have a hat, I want to sleep in, I’m a big baby who hates the awkwardness of starting new endeavors…), some of which were clearly more legitimate than others.  Yesterday, I emailed the owner, told her I would be there this morning, and set my alarm for 5:50.  Now I had to go; I can’t back out of a commitment.  Have I mentioned that it’s 9.2 miles away from my apartment?  And that we don’t own a car?  Those two facts translate into a lovely hour long bike ride each way.  Who knew it was still dark at six in the morning this time of year?  Not me.  The distance of the ride is not a problem, but I will need to attach the rack and panniers my garage-sale extraordinaire husband found last week; carrying back all of the delicious veggies I receive as compensation in my backpack is not ideal.  I have also decided that I can postpone purchasing a gym membership if I am regularly biking twenty miles a day.  Right now I am hoping to volunteer four mornings a week (Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday), but I am open to revising that if need be.

Volunteering at the bike co-op.  I haven’t actually gone yet, but Thursday is the day.  We (my husband wants to come, too) said that we would go last week but when he got off work later than expected and after eating dinner and cleaning up it was too late (or at least that’s what we told ourselves).  I will go.  Now that I’m telling the blogosphere I have to, right?

I always enjoy when I get out and do new things, I just hate the awkward part at the beginning when I don’t know anyone and have no idea what’s going on.  But I want to make friends and become a part of the Austin community.  As we were waiting to hear where my husband would land a job, I just kept thinking about how this next move would be where we could put down roots.  Maybe not forever, but at least for more than a year or two.  I haven’t lived in the same place for more than two years since high school (even undergraduate was broken up by a year of studying abroad).  I keep getting to the point where I have a community of support and network of friends and then we pick up and move.  I don’t regret a single move I have made, but I am so looking forward to being someplace for the foreseeable future.  And as much as I hate the first steps, I am making myself get off the couch and get involved, because making friends after college is harder than it seems.

I’ll end with a quote that I read today from Steve Jobs’ 2005 commencement speech at Stanford.*  Right now, I just really need to believe that the dots are connected in my life.  I need to trust that it is all part of a bigger picture, even if I can’t see it and don’t know what form it will take.  And sometimes?  I think I do know what form it will take but I am afraid.  Afraid because jumping into the unknown is terrifying.  But so far all the best parts of my life have happened when I ignored conventional wisdom and followed my instincts.

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something—your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever.  This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”  –Steve Jobs

* Not many people know this about me, but I am a complete quote nerd.  I love reading quotes.  Love it.  The cheesy ones especially.  I have entire word documents on my computer devoted to storing the many quotes that have moved me at one time or another.