I'm Sorry You Feel that Way

I've had my fair share of crappy apologies of late.  The kind where I'm told that it's unfortunate that I feel sad/mad/hurt.  The accountability for feeling that way reflects back to me.  My bad.

Isn't there a formula for an apology?

I (me, myself and I) are sorry that I (fill in the blank) that hurt you.

I'm wondering if I missed the "Life Memo" that revised this process of seeking to be forgiven by being accountable for words or actions.  Was it decided that one should always assume they are right and the other individual's feelings don't matter?  I must have missed that update.

I got tired of watching a co-worker get bashed in and then told she "must have misunderstood" because that wasn't the intent.  I know darn well that the intent was to tell her that she was stupid/dumb/incompetent and that the words said to her successfully put her down.  But it's too bad "she feels that way."

Shame on the perpetrator.  Middle Age has caught up to this individual, but not maturity.

When the Faithful Fail

A fellow student from my seminary days has fallen hard--very hard.  When I knew him his charisma and ego filled the room. I thought he was obnoxious.

Over the years, I've watched his star shoot up into the academic and administrative positions within the ELCA.  He rose to the highest rank in academia--and this week resigned under a cloud of debt and poor administration.

I think it's doubly difficult to be a leader (spiritually or academically) in the professional level of the church because there is an aura of infallibility.  A person of demonstrative faith is viewed as set apart.  The very act of ordination sets you apart to administer the sacraments of the church and serve as a theological and faith leader to a congregation.

I can imagine that this is the perfect wave to ride if you are an ego-maniac.  You can stay on top of that wave for a very long ride.  Which is what I think happened here.

I don't doubt he was a leader both articulate and inspirational based on what I observed and from his long resume of service and ministry.

But as a cautionary tale, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America should remember that bright shining stars burn out.  Shepherds are those that would lay down their lives for the search of one missing.  I think in the imagery of Christmas with the beacon of a star over Bethlehem, we must remember that the star calls us to a manger.  It is not a sustained homing signal.  Somehow along the way, this academic lost sight that it was his job to lead others to ministry and not be the star.

Keeping my Word

I gave two weeks' notice almost three weeks ago but because my current contract is very short staffed I have stayed on to help.  I am struggling to maintain the discipline of being at my desk and focusing on what work I do still have assigned to me.  I decline most of the meetings as I only have four days left and I won't be carrying any of the work forward to the end.

This is a test for me. I want people to remember that I was a person who kept my word--and worked to the end.  I just seem to be about an inch short of that goal and looking for inspiration to remain engaged.

Putting it in Park

About a decade ago, a friend gave me a Communications Style Quiz.  I found out that I'm not nearly as flexible as I thought and my single-minded focus on the results can cause some havoc for people who work with me.  It works well for project success which probably explains why I've been fairly successful in my career.  Focusing on dates and deliverables is pretty "realistic-concrete" and the technology industry is full of people who think just like me.

But the "Driver" personality style does not give much weight to the other person I'm talking to.  When I combine that with a gift of articulation, then I'm really in trouble.  There is no neutral zone in a conversation with me.

This came to light recently when I had to deal with my son's 6th grade science teacher who has missed an assignment in his first term grade.  The assignment was returned and graded.  The next morning I confronted her and demanded she change the grade.  She felt threatened and kicked me out of her room.  That's not the way to partner with someone.  I got the result I wanted, but I certainly didn't win.

In my transition from my current contract position, several of my assignments have been passed to others.  I have had to attend several meetings in the intervening weeks and my developers are looking to me to lead them.  I have to remind them, that these assignments don't below to me anymore.  They are confused.  I am disappointed because the reassignments are not getting done.  But I have to remind myself that these no longer belong to me.  I am no longer responsible.  It wouldn't be appropriate to step in and do anything more since I won't be here to see it through to the end.  It is very very hard to put the Driver in park.

On Being Human

It's been a rough year in 2012.  I've been reminded more times than I'd like that I am no longer young.

Last night was the latest in a bout of health issues.  I stood in the kitchen to wash my hands (making home made pizzas for dinner) and my right knee gave out.  It was as if I had no right leg at all.  I caught myself before falling, but within 90 minutes the pain sent me off to Urgent Care.

I have no lasting damage, just a strained ACL and quad muscle.  In a few weeks time I'm told that the incident will be a memory.

But I don't have the confidence in the knee like I had before it gave out.  I can't go back to the blissful state of being unaware that knees give out.

I think the smart side of my head knows that to age is to be human, but I just quit acknowledging the years as they added on--so many of them since I was 25.  This year has been a mirror in whose reflection I see someone who is getting more fragile by the day.  I am no longer super woman.  I can't sit on the floor with my legs crossed and then stand up without alot of extra sound effects added.  I don't remember getting older.  I just did.

Breaking With Tradition

I'm going on Year 8 without sending a Christmas card to my friends or family. For awhile quite a few of my friends hung in there and sent one to me anyway, but they've slowly started to dwindle in number. I have to say I'm actually relieved.

I love to know what my friends are doing - in their daily lives. I don't want to hear where they measure themselves once a year. Their kids are awesome, because their parents were awesome so I really don't need to know every achievement they've made. I often wonder if the kids themselves know the amount of idolizing their parents give them.

Kids are kids. They'll embarrass you and still have a ways to go to adulthood. I wouldn't brag just yet until they've bought a house and settled down. Then you can whoop and holler that you did not have to pay for an intervention or go broke in paying for a college education. So, I like to hear about my friends' kids, but squirm when it becomes too good to be true. Mine are just a few years removed from coloring on their furniture so I don't brag.

I do miss hearing how my friends' parents are. I'm shocked as mine continue to get older every year. I think I just quit aging them around 60 but they still keep adding on years. Some of my friends have had parents pass away and that leaves a void in my memories and a dread that I can't even put words to. Without a Christmas card, I don't get that major milestone news.

I have lived in the same place now for 12 years and can say aside from growing up and leaving home at 17, this is the longest I've stayed in one place. So I can't imagine how many addresses were crossed out in address books (do people still have those?) for me. Getting a card assured my friends that I hadn't moved out or run away from home.  Now I don't even know if some of friends still reside in the same place because frankly Facebook is like a home in the virtual world, no postal address required.

So I've completely broken the tradition of parading my children off for my friends to admire what a great job I've done. I can assure you I haven't hidden them in the crawl space, but they're beginning to be responsible for their own achievements and I don't drive and nag them to be perfect. I don't do it to myself anymore so why force it on others.

Rest assured, I still live in the first and only house I've ever purchased so it's not that your mailed cards have gone to the lost and found. They just hit the end of the tradition line and around the first week of January, are in the trash can.

Thanks for thinking of me.

Thanks for keeping tradition alive. I just have to tell you that I broke this one. I'd rather that people called me, texted me or better yet went out to breakfast some Saturday so we could actually talk.

A Christmas Mouse (cookie)

Hilarity ensured in trying to make the cookies last night. I failed to buy cherries with stems and so we had to resort to a chow mein noodle. Good one, Grace. This can only be eaten with a sufficiently festive beverage such as milk (or mother's little helper like a White Russian). Here's to the Holiday Season of 2012.