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Yesterday morning, as i was heading into work, i noticed orange and white fur tufts, ivy pulled across the sidewalk, then some blood. My heart went very heavy: our neighbor who had the stroke, Ms M, has an elderly orange and white cat. This was on their doorstep. Of course, it's where all the orange cats hang out. From the fur color i knew it wasn't Edward. I wasn't sure how it would affect Christine, but i knew she would rather know than not. I called her and let her know what i witnessed.
I did my best trying to move my thoughts away from thuggish racoons dragging cats out from under shrubbery, and discussed with myself the "conditions of enoughness" for the day. I don't know how my attention was pulled away -- the layers of grey in the cloudy sky? -- but suddenly i was slamming on the breaks, harder than i ever have. I remember choosing swing into the commuter lane and then realizing i had no idea who was oncoming behind me, and that i seemed like i was not going to hit the van ahead of me, so i swerved back into my lane. Blue grey smoke pooled around the car, and traffic continued at 20-some from the 65-some miles per hour.
When i got to work i did not feel grounded, and we began three hours of "training" on our Birkman personality profiles. The trainer is a woman who drives me nuts. She comes from a very different place than i do, i think, and i find i suspect her of many blind spots and prejudices. (Her women and math prejudice was loudly expressed some years ago in a flippant way: i just don't know how you get to be head of occupational development and blurt crap out.)
For the three hours we made LOTS of eye contact, and i tried hard to project interest and compliance. I'd had the training before, i'd already discovered the depth of her clarifying responses, so i just coasted. But being next to her out-going energy and her glib relating -- it's probably the glibness that triggers me, the frustration that someone asked a specific question and that her stock response didn't QUITE go to the question, just it's neighborhood -- drained me. In the 45 minutes for lunch and email, i found a colleague had rescheduled a 30 minute meeting over that time period, so i ate while chatting with her. It wasn't bad, and under usual situations it would have been fine, but i was drained.
Then there was a managers training meeting with her, where we corrected a few details on her hand outs. I engaged with her, and i wonder about how i do that when she also drives me so nuts. I think part of it was in the smaller group she's not in the same performing role as trainer. Then, she and i had a one on one where we discussed my detailed Birkman results.
For reference: my freakout over the instrument last summer: http://elainegrey.livejournal.com/1768736.html . I did, i think, share a little more about my distress over my working situation last summer than i "should" have, but no harm, either. I'm glad it wasn't last summer when i was so distressed by work, but now when i am far more grounded. The most remarkable event of the whole session was how the earth quaked and she kept talking. And talking and talking. I decided not to point it out. Don't unnecessarily distress the midwesterner with the earthquake.
Five plus hours of That Woman was really very spoon-expensive. I honored that in the evening: i did a short bit of stationary bike, some Highlander (season 2 is really quite bad), and some crochet while Christine practiced the mandolin.
I did my best trying to move my thoughts away from thuggish racoons dragging cats out from under shrubbery, and discussed with myself the "conditions of enoughness" for the day. I don't know how my attention was pulled away -- the layers of grey in the cloudy sky? -- but suddenly i was slamming on the breaks, harder than i ever have. I remember choosing swing into the commuter lane and then realizing i had no idea who was oncoming behind me, and that i seemed like i was not going to hit the van ahead of me, so i swerved back into my lane. Blue grey smoke pooled around the car, and traffic continued at 20-some from the 65-some miles per hour.
When i got to work i did not feel grounded, and we began three hours of "training" on our Birkman personality profiles. The trainer is a woman who drives me nuts. She comes from a very different place than i do, i think, and i find i suspect her of many blind spots and prejudices. (Her women and math prejudice was loudly expressed some years ago in a flippant way: i just don't know how you get to be head of occupational development and blurt crap out.)
For the three hours we made LOTS of eye contact, and i tried hard to project interest and compliance. I'd had the training before, i'd already discovered the depth of her clarifying responses, so i just coasted. But being next to her out-going energy and her glib relating -- it's probably the glibness that triggers me, the frustration that someone asked a specific question and that her stock response didn't QUITE go to the question, just it's neighborhood -- drained me. In the 45 minutes for lunch and email, i found a colleague had rescheduled a 30 minute meeting over that time period, so i ate while chatting with her. It wasn't bad, and under usual situations it would have been fine, but i was drained.
Then there was a managers training meeting with her, where we corrected a few details on her hand outs. I engaged with her, and i wonder about how i do that when she also drives me so nuts. I think part of it was in the smaller group she's not in the same performing role as trainer. Then, she and i had a one on one where we discussed my detailed Birkman results.
For reference: my freakout over the instrument last summer: http://elainegrey.livejournal.com/1768736.html . I did, i think, share a little more about my distress over my working situation last summer than i "should" have, but no harm, either. I'm glad it wasn't last summer when i was so distressed by work, but now when i am far more grounded. The most remarkable event of the whole session was how the earth quaked and she kept talking. And talking and talking. I decided not to point it out. Don't unnecessarily distress the midwesterner with the earthquake.
Five plus hours of That Woman was really very spoon-expensive. I honored that in the evening: i did a short bit of stationary bike, some Highlander (season 2 is really quite bad), and some crochet while Christine practiced the mandolin.
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