Friday, February 26, 2016

More mindfulness

Hi Readers,

The mindfulness topic has stayed on my mind through the day.  Here are some continued thoughts:

1) I feel like am more mindful in my private life than in my professional life.
2) That's probably because it's difficult to be mindful (ie aware and present for what is happening in the moment) when someone is dictating the parameters of what is important and setting the deadlines for work to be completed
3) Maybe I should stop caring so much what the administrators that set deadlines think of my professional performance.

To bring mindfulness into my professional life, I think I need to set my own parameters for what I want to accomplish: in my days, in my years and throughout my professional career. It would take away the feeling that I am not working towards anything, or that I am working towards something I don't totally understand. For me, a lack of mindfulness can be associated with a feeling of drifting and times when I don't understand the big picture.  Currently, the goal in my personal life is fairly simple: I want to be happy.  Hence my enhanced level of mindfulness.  I'm able to gauge: Am I happy?  Why? Why not? Etc.

The goal in my professional life feels more complicated: I want to create an atmosphere of disciplined student learning.  I want the students to be happy too (I'm a big advocate of happiness, generally), but I want them to be happy in a challenging, inspired environment, not happy because they have their phone balanced in their lap looking at snatchap while they pretend to take notes.  Disciplined learning is hard.  It's especially hard to gauge the amount of disciplined learning that is going on in someone else's brain.  It's hard for me to know when and what my students are actually retaining from class.  I think the first goal towards mindfulness in my professional life rests on that--considering my job from the student perspective more carefully. 

I'm excited to try and bring a greater sense of peace and thoughtfulness to my career. I'm especially excited to start.....on Monday.  Happy weekend!


Thursday, February 25, 2016

Mindfulness

Hi readers,


Mindfulness has been a trending topic in education lately.  Like all trending topics in education, the popularity has led to much sarcastic skepticism about what it really means to be "mindful".  There are lots of super fun internet searches involved in this! Someone with a reasonably sarcastic sense of humor (me, my boyfriend, the majority of people I choose to spend time with) can have a ton of fun debating the merits of quotes like "Mindfulness is the opposite of mindlessness" and "Spending time on purpose".



But seriously, I sort of get it.  It is about being present in the moment.  That's important.  It involves lots of deep breathing.  I love deep breathing.  It's very good for your complexion.  I wish I could stay  focused in the present moment, indefinitely.  The problem for me is what I am focused on.  My infinitesimally minute slice of the world is constantly overflowing with deadlines, projects, long commutes and vague efforts towards self improvement.  It all feels very disjointed, and makes for some very long days.  If I gave 100 percent to everything I did, I don't know how much I would be able to get finished.  It makes me feel very un-mindful to write it, but it's true.  Is trying to give 100 percent enough?  Is trying even mindful?! Is un-mindful even a word?!?!

This is when the concept gets confused for me.  I understand what mindfulness looks like in a vacuum (seriously, I'm really good at deep breathing).  But I get stuck in the application of mindfulness to other aspects of life.  I want to approach things in a mindful way, not just sit in my office taking deep breathes all day.  But I don't really understand what to focus on in a mindful approach.  Do you just sit with other people taking deep breathes?

Actually, that sounds sort of nice.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Self Care

Hi readers,

I had a doctor's appointment today.  I don't know if it's normal how much fanfare goes into this decision in a teaching career.  For me, the process started last week.  I had to get a doctor recommendation form the school nurse.  I had to brush up on my Spanish medical vocabulary.  I had to ask the school secretary in advance so she could arrange a teacher for my classes (In a professional capacity I find our school secretary to be particularly terrifying).  I had to make sub plans (this generally consists of finding an activity students could complete if there was literally no adult supervision in the room.  Playing-on-the-internet type activities are popular.)

It takes enough planning to schedule a doctor's appointment that I generally don't bother.  It's sad to think how routinely I put the maintenance of my personal health at the end of a laundry list of tasks to complete. When I was relaxing in my gloriously hard-earned plastic waiting room chair, it occurred to me that self-care is a phenomenally important and over-looked concept in my life.

I go through waves of meditation-interest. I don't smoke.  I exercise, sometimes.  I eat reasonably well, I think.  I enjoy taking time to focus on my breathing occasionally (this is an excellent activity for crowded subway cars).  But in a deep way I don't feel very connected to my health and my self-care.  Just taking a few hours to check in about my health made me feel more calm and connected to my body.  It was an impressive and immediate difference.  I realized how important it is to take the time to take care of myself.  I'm so lucky to be in good health and I often take it for granted.

Feeling thankful...

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Lent

Hi readers,

I have been thinking about what to give up for Lent.  Yes, I know--I'm a little late for the party.  Ironically, I have a hard time keeping track of Christian holiday dates in Spain.  The passing of Carnival is hard to equate with the beginning of a season of quiet, reflective thoughts.  Honestly, it's hard to even notice in Madrid--the Carnival season is more pronounced in the south and in the islands.

Truthfully, Lent is hard for me anyway.  I gave up caffeine one year and that was quite successful.  Difficult but rewarding and allowed for lots of thoughtful mornings.  The next year I thought I might give up just coffee and instead get into drinking artisanal tea.  I had a friend explain that picking up new, hipster-inspired hobbies was not really the point.  Lent is meant to be difficult and provoke suffering.  We are remembering death and fasting, after all.

I am not good at choosing activities that provoke my own suffering.

I know a lot of people that give up not doing something.  It seems difficult to define.  For example, when I brought the idea of lent sacrifices at morning coffee yesterday, my coworker said she was going to give up "not being positive."  It lasted almost until the end of coffee (it was Monday).

I do want to mark the occasion, and choose something culturally relevant that will cause me a feeling of deprivation.  Which encourages the important question...why I might want to encourage a feeling of deprivation in my life?

Simply put, I think it's important to remember that life is not always easy.  However, it's hard to equate that feeling with my current material possessions.  I don't know what would best serve as a daily reminder of hardship in my decidedly upper middle class life.  Lack of olive oil?  Restraining from chocolate? 

It's worth considering.

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Adaptability

Hi readers,

I have not been getting very much sleep this week.  Pathetically enough, I think it's time to cut out afternoon caffeine. Sunday I had a late coffee and didn't close my eyes until 4 AM.  Yesterday, I had a cinnamon tea at 6 PM and was up staring at the wall for the next 8 hours (actually, I took a break to go jogging.  Because, you know--tea energy).  Tonight, I went to an 8 PM dinner but in true Spanish-dinner style, walked back into my apartment at 12:28 AM.  It's good tomorrow is Friday because I don't think my body can take much more of this.

But considering that I am adapting the sleeping patterns of a high-strung teenage girl, my body is actually adapting quite well.  I've had a relatively steady energy level and have kept my patience with writing midterm comments (again) and grading approximately 317 pieces of student work.  I even stayed at work until 6:30 PM today rather cheerfully because I felt (correctly) that I should likely read up on the lecture I'm giving tomorrow (spoiler alert: Introduction to Biodiversity).

The range of conditions the human body and brain can function at are genuinely staggering.  We convince ourselves that all types of scenarios are "normal": war, tax time, last call, homelessness.  In the last 3 months I have trained myself to:

-wake up at 6:40 AM to practice the piano every day
-complete 20 minutes to 1 hour of writing every (other) day
-run 2-3 miles 2 times a week
-wake up and make 2 cups of instant coffee every morning

It looks completely different from my schedule last year, and exists in a different universe from my schedule 5 years ago.  The point is, the schedule exists.  I am generally able to convince myself that any scenario I may find myself in is pleasant and inviting, if not outright enjoyable.

Humans are as adaptable as we make up our minds to be.  It's a pretty lucky characteristic.

Off to bed. 

Monday, February 8, 2016

Weekend Update

Hi readers,

As I have gotten older, the meaning of "the weekend" has shifted dramatically.  As a pre-teen, it meant two 5 AM wake up calls in a row and an average of 200 early morning lengths of a Olympic-size pool.  Slightly older, I went to boarding school, where Saturday generally meant classes again and Sunday meant morning study hall (I once served 9 Sunday morning study halls in a row).  In college, Saturday night was spent playing pool in my friend's garage and Sunday we moved to the backyard for horseshoes. In the beginning of my work life, there was no real differentiation for the weekend, as my schedule shifted weekly and I usually worked weekends at one of my seven jobs.

Once I started a Monday-Friday work week, I started to understand the sacred nature of the single, adult weekend.  Lingering over lunch.  Relaxing on a Sunday afternoon.  Puttering around a quiet apartment.  Going for a hike.

This past weekend was glorious in that it was nothing special.  I stayed home (a rare occurance this past fall and something I am overjoyed to do).  I didn't go out late (for Spaniards, getting home from dinner at 2 AM Saturday morning is actually considered quite responsible).  I watched the X Files.  I made frozen pizza.  I thought about writing my next short story.  I skyped with my dad AND my sister.  I went on a run in Retiro park.  Apparently, there was some sort of football game on?

It was glorious.  Pictures from park below.






Thursday, February 4, 2016

It's the little things...

Hi readers,

For about the last month, I've been on a search for Spanish gummy vitamins.

It all started at Christmas, when I made my semi-annual pilgrimage to CVS.  There is simply no equivalent to a CVS/Target/WalMart in Spain, or really in Europe for that matter.  Usually, I don't mind.  I do understand that CVS is full of moderately useless crap.  There is no need for 17 different kinds of band-aids, or an aisle for toothbrushes or 32 shades of red lipstick.


However....

I find a meditative peace in wondering through the vitamin aisle, wondering if my life would be different if only I had a more devoted amino acid supplement practice.  Last year, I walked around the blue, knotted carpet tiles in the deodorant aisle for a full 10 minutes, delightedly hugging a large stuffed monkey I found for sale by the door and thinking deeply about what type of antiperspirant was least likely to give me terrible cancer.


This past Christmas, I discovered gummy calcium supplements.  (Truth be told, I wanted dark-chocolate-flavored Viactiv Chews, but annoyingly they only had caramel, milk-chocolate and cappuccino flavors.  Sigh.)  Turns out, gummy calcium supplements are amazing.  Unfortunately, I only bought one box.

Hence, my aggressive tours of the Spanish farmacias.  I have been harassing the lovely Madrilena workers about the chewable vitamin possibilities since the day I could count the number of gumdrop-shaped vitamin candies left in my sturdy plastic vial.  So far I have encountered:

1) Orange-flavored chewable wafers with calcium and some unidentifiable Spanish mineral/form of carbonate rock
2) Small, rubbery gummy B-vitamins shaped like various fruits that come in a set with a Popeye-the-Sailor piggy bank
3) "AquaGummies!" shaped like various fish that may be some vague Spanish equivalent of Flinstones vitamins

Every store I go in has a different offering. So far my quest for gummy vitamins has taken upwards of 2 hours and cost approximately $40.

But you know what?  It's fun. I'm learning all sorts of weird Spanish words, and I'm no longer terrified of entering a pharmacy and talking to the people that work there, a skill I have to believe will come in handy at some point during my tenure in Span.

It's the little things that make life big, they say.