by Lauren Randolph
#2
I had my hair trimmed and my first colonoscopy.
I started a shorter work schedule and cleaning out my house.
I stopped wearing a watch.
All in the course of a week. It just happened that way.
All this feels good – and right. It’s important for physical changes to accompany – and reinforce – symbolic ones like turning aside from the career path in favor of a grassy field that may reveal some delicate flowers if you take the time to look. I suspect there will be a bee sting or two along the way – the inevitable gotchas of life – but I’m ready for that. I’m not allergic.
My current challenge is to get my work done in the fewer number of hours I’ve agreed to spend. But if I need to do more, I can choose whether, where, and when to do it – without guilt.
I’ve been noticing that, like me, most of the women my age, even younger ones, seem exhausted. With one friend, when we greet each other, we’ve adopted a code. I ask her how she is, and she says, “I guess I’ll just go with fine.” But I can see how tired and demoralized she is. Too much work, too little satisfaction – even less appreciation. And too little pay for her level of responsibility. Way too little. Not that she hasn’t fought for more. She ended up coming down with the flu shortly after I saw her the last time.
Why is she in this situation? Is it a choice?
Are men feeling this way too?
In the same timeframe, I attended a breast cancer fund raiser a friend was giving. The energy in the room was just the opposite of what I’ve been experiencing: Strong, powerful women supporting a cause they believe in. And they believe they can make a difference.
My take-away message was a literal one from the leading fund raiser present: Beyond contributing financially to the cause, she encouraged us to find something – anything – we’re absolutely passionate about and put our hearts and time into that. That’s what makes the world a better place. She had clearly found her passion: She’s raised more than $70,000 for Making Strides Against Breast Cancer on the way to her goal of $100,000.
My passions are riding and writing. When I’m at my best in either, I feel in the state of “flow” described by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. So the options for me have got to include beautiful four-legged animals or words – preferably both. Some I’ve been thinking about contributing to…
The (Jimmy) Carter Center in Atlanta. The center has three goals (in its own words): waging peace, fighting disease, and building hope. The former president came to speak recently on the campus where I work and got a standing ovation when he walked on stage. He embodies for me the true meaning of “statesman.” I had read his book “Our Endangered Values” and had brought it along, hoping for a signing opportunity.
The literacy campaign. It’s hard to believe we still have a problem with this in the U.S., which makes it something all the more compelling – or hopeless? – to work on.
More idiosyncratically, how do you turn a passion for the Sunday New York Times Book Review section into a labor of love that includes health benefits?
At the end of the day, I want to have done something that somehow tangibly does make the world a better place, even if only for a few people. Money these days is secondary. I’m lucky I can say that.
But then I wake up in the morning and read the front page of the newspaper. (I’m one of the few left that still derives comfort from holding newsprint in her hands.) Headlines range from the North Korean underground nuclear test to still more carnage in Iraq.
It makes me wonder how much time we have left to make a difference — or even whether individuals can make a difference at all.