Aubergine

Oh, hello.

It has been a while since I've been around here.  So let me tell you where I have been.  Here, for starters: 

In January, I launched a new blog, Nurtured Mama as a place to write in a more focused way about self-care and motherhood. It took forever for me to get through the tech stuff to get the site live, but I'm really happy with it and am enjoying the small but growing community there.  Please come visit! I wrote a series of posts about the importance of dreaming in January.  In February I covered love, and this month I've been writing about rejuvenation. Next month the topic will be Simplicity.

I've been writing essays that mostly haven't seen the light of publication yet and a couple of pieces that have, like this guest post on The Happiest Mom that I'm really proud of.

I've also been enjoying this kid, who I really can no longer call my baby:

I will still be posting here from time to time, as I write things too personal or two funky for other places, but if you want to keep in more regular touch, please sign up for updates from Nurtured Mama, connect with me on Facebook, or follow me on Pinterest.  Or email me!  I'm always happy to connect with you!

Critic, be gone!

 

Photo by @MSG via Creative Commons

Do you have a voice in your head that tells you that your work isn't good enough? That your time is better spent doing something actually productive? That you'll never earn a living doing this (writing/blogging/painting/etc.) and you might as well quit right now before you make a fool of yourself?

Yeah, I have that voice, too. The dreaded Inner Critic. Sometimes that voice can sound like a whole chorus of inner critics, all of whom know my weakest points and tenderest buttons.

When I look back on my life I see that I have wasted a lot of time letting that voice talk me into not doing things I really wanted to do.  I believed I wasn't good enough, or skilled enough, or creative enough.  I let myself believe a lot of excuses about not having enough time.

But these days, I don't have time for the voice.  I want to write.  I want to paint and cook and make things.  And also I want to be an awesome parent.  In order to make room for all of that I have to spend more time doing and less time waffling around, feeling bad because of the voice. 

Here are some of the things I do to help deal with my inner critic so I can get back to making.  I think they will help you, too.

Awknowledge It

As much as I want to hate my inner critic, I realize that voice comes from a valid part of myself.  One that is afraid both of failing and succeeding.  One that has strong opinions about what is "good" and what is not. One that can help me create high quality work, when the time is right.

But not when I'm writing a first draft.  When my voice is speaking up when I'm right at the beginning of a project, I channel my inner mama and talk to it like it is a toddler: "I hear you.  I hear that you have something to say.  But right now I have something I'm trying to write.  Will you go play over there for 30 minutes?  I will give you all of my attention as soon as I'm done with this." 

Make sure you do invite it back when you get into revision mode, because that's when that voice can really be valuable.

(I don't make my toddler play for 30 minutes without me.  My inner voice has a much longer attention span than my toddler does)

 

Drown It 

Sometimes the voice will heed my request to go play, but sometimes it is whiny and clingy. When that happens, I turn up the music, go to a coffee shop, change my scenery, or just set a timer and start writing.  Write really fast.  Don't go back to fix grammar or mis-spelled words.  

You can write faster than your ciritic can niggle and eventually you will leave the voice behind.

 

Listen 

When you have asked for a break and tried to outwrite it, but the voice is still there, give it a minute and check in with what it is saying.  

I was recently working on a draft of an article and my critical voice was just haranguing me.  "This is stupid," it was saying.  "This doesn't even make sense. Who would want to read this?"

My inner critic isn't very nice to me. 

A couple of days later my critique group suggested some major restructuring to my article draft.  And with fresh eyes, I could see that they were totally right.  My draft didn't make a lot of sense the way I had structured it, but by moving the pieces around it would flow so much better.

Which my inner voice had been trying to tell me all along. Sometimes it pays to take a minute to see if that voice is telling you something you can learn from.

Turn Toward (what am I most afraid of?)

Sometimes my inner critic is trying to tell me something bigger than editing tips.  Sometimes my voice is speaking up because I'm pushing my own boundaries, or because I'm delving into a subject that brings back bad memories or opens an old wound. This feels different than the standard inner voice.

When this happens, I stop.  I listen.  I soothe.  If my voice is my inner toddler, I take a moment to wrap her up in my arms and tell her I love her and that she is safe.  I pay attention to the fear, the hurt, and the sadness.

But then I go back to being an adult and I make a decision about whether I should continue or not.  Some wounds need air to heal.  Some boundaries need to be broken so I can grow.  My inner voice can tell me when I've reached a tender spot, but my grown-up self needs to decide whether it is safe to proceed or not.

 

Step Away From the Keyboard

If none of the techniques I've described above works, I do something drastic. I walk away for a while.  Do something else and set it aside.  Sometimes I just need a short break to clean up the kitchen or to water the garden.  Sometimes that's enough to shake loose the thing I'm stuck about so I can get perspective on it.  

Sometimes it helps to do something physical - go for a walk or go to the gym.  Don't even think about the project you are stuggling with or your bad feelings about it.  Just set it aside.  Try again tomorrow. Or the day after that.

This doesn't work if you have a deadline, of course, but sometimes your critic is acting up because your creative well is dry and you need to refill it.  Pamper yourself a bit and rest.  Return when your ideas start popping again and I'm willing to bet that critic will be quiet for a while.

What techniques do you use to manage your inner critic? 

Guest Post: Making Sure Your Blog Benefits Your Family

Today I’m participating in the Ultimate Blog Swap. You’ll find me posting over at Scraps of My Geek Life about iApps That Support Your Spirit, and I’m beyond excited to welcome Mandi Ehman of  Life Your Way and Jungle Deals & Steals to Aubergine:

Image by Photon_De via Creative Commons.

Why do you blog?

Is it for the sense of community? Because you hope to contribute to your family finances? Or because you can’t not write, and a blog seems like a good platform to share your words?

We all blog for different reasons, and that’s okay, of course, but there’s been a recent trend of divorces among some pretty popular family bloggers, and it’s hard not to wonder what role their blogs have played in the demise of their marriages.

Most of us wouldn’t blog at all if we weren’t receiving some payoff; we’d stick with our private journals for putting our thoughts to paper.

But the feedback and friendships and community that develop through a blog can be powerful ties to the outside, grown up world, especially for stay-at-home parents who may feel sequestered from the real world in the midst of changing umpteen poopy diapers and preparing yet another snack.

Things like free products and trips and actual cash money can be pretty motivating payoffs as well, especially if your family budget is tight or you rely on the income from your blog to pay the bills or put food on the table.

Much has been written on the importance of work-life balance, here on Aubergine and elsewhere around the web, and that’s certainly a challenge for most bloggers, who carry their blog with them as part of their everyday life both in their thoughts and in their hearts.

But what if we looked at it through the lens of how our blog can actually benefit our family? And if it’s not benefitting the family – but rather coming between those relationships – maybe it’s time for things to change.

 

A Creative Outlet

Having a creative outlet is a good thing. When we use our creativity to express our thoughts and emotions, we’re better able to handle the things that come at us every day. That’s why art therapy and journaling are so valuable for children and adults alike.

Blogging can certainly be that creative outlet – allowing you to craft words from your heart and design beautiful things and wrestle with various pieces of code. If your blog serves as a creative outlet for you, you should walk away refreshed from writing or designing or coding, which makes you a better mother to your children and a better wife to your husband. But beware – the art is not the goal. It’s a tool to use to express yourself, but if it becomes more important to you than your family (in action, even if you’d never say that out loud), it can cause arguments and impatience and strife.

 

A Community

Similarly, community is good. Motherhood can be lonely, but it’s not supposed to be. Connecting with other moms – moms in the throes of raising toddlers, moms who can look back with fondness on those years through the lens of time, and moms who are just getting ready to welcome their first child and are looking to you for encouragement – is good for the soul. Commiserating and encouraging one another, laughing and crying together, sharing ideas and inspiration – all of it is good.

Having a community brings perspective to the journey of motherhood, and that’s beneficial. Valuing your community more than your family, however, is unhealthy and dangerous. It often results in treating your family as if they’re a bother and spending car rides with your nose stuck in your phone, and sadly even children can feel when this line is crossed.

 

A Business

For the entrepreneurs among us, building a blog and growing a business are exciting. Not only can we contribute to our family’s finances, but there’s just something invigorating about taking an idea and making it a reality. Earning money is a good thing – whether it’s for basic expenses, family vacations or future college tuition, and running a business from home is a great way to inspire a future generation of entrepreneurs. For many families, the money from blogging actually allows them to spend more time together, as opposed to other part-time jobs outside of the home.

But in any business, there is the always more that can be done – longer hours to work, another project to tackle, more ideas to stay ahead of the competition. If we get caught up in the rat race of trying to do bigger, better things, we can easily lose our connections as a family, even when we’re all in the same house all day! So,

I’ll ask again…why do you blog? What is the payoff you get from your blog? And is it truly benefitting your family?

 

Mandi Ehman lives in wild, wonderful West Virginia with her husband of ten years and four beautiful, spunky little girls. As a full-time work-at-home, homeschooling mom, she runs Life Your Way and Jungle Deals & Steals and consults for a variety of websites and brands. Mandi loves coffee, chocolate, easy meals, beautiful things and minimalist spaces!

Visit Life Your Way to see all of the Ultimate Blog Swap participants!

Give up the life you planned

"You must give up the life you planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you." – Joseph Campbell

Up until two years ago, I thought I knew where my life was heading.  I was about to take a big leap into something unfamiliar to me, but not entirely unknown.  I had given notice at my job, and I had been accepted into grad school.  I thought I knew what my next two years would be like, at least, though I didn't know what would happen after that.  I thought maybe I'd even come back to Apple.  

But then I discovered I was pregnant.  And in the next few months, all of the plans I had been so sure about unraveled.  

I am a planner by nature.  I am anxious when I don't have a plan.   I definitely have had moments of anxiety in the last couple of years.  But I have been surprised more by feelings I never expected: Peace. Trust.

Six months before I left Apple, before I was even sure I was going to leave, I had an interview with a financial planner.  We had the most surprising conversation. She looked over my papers, then sat back in her big black leather chair and looked at me.  Just looked at me for a long minute.  Then she said, “I’m not going to work with you.”  I'm sure I looked at her like she had lost her mind. “I don’t think you want to go to business school.  I think you just need some rest. I think you need someone to give you permission to quit your job so you can rest.”

I remember tears coming to my eyes.  I was so relieved that someone recognized how tired I was, but also I didn’t know what to do with her words.  I was there to get her help and she was saying she wasn’t going to help me!

She didn’t comment on my tears.  She just gently said, “I give you permission to rest for a while. You will be just fine.”

If I believed in angels, I would say she was a guardian sent to give me a message.  I had never met her before and that was some pretty heavy advice to offer someone who doesn't know you.  But somewhere deep inside I trusted her.  It took me a while - I did go to the first semester of the MBA program - but when it came time to decide if I was going to go back or resign from school that conversation came back to me. I felt the trust again.  Not just trusting her, this time, but trusting myself.  Trusting myself to find a new path in my life, even though I didn't know what it was going to look like.

Most days I still don’t know what that’s going to look like, but I’m learning to be OK with that. For the first time in my life I have clear goals but not a specific plan for attaining them.  I want to be home with my daughter until she goes to school.  I want to do work that feeds my brain and my heart, that allows me the financial flexibility to work at home part time.  I want to see my words in print.  I want to tell stories that touch other people, and I want to be a part of a community of mothers and writers, and writers who are mothers, and mothers who do other things, but all of us doing what we do intentionally. I want to encourage mothers to nurther themselves, alongside their children.

I have a turquoise blue, fat-bellied mug that my love makes my morning coffee in every day.  It says, "be like water" on the side.  I bought it for that saying, because I value my ability to flow with whatever is going on around me.  Adjust, adapt, flow around.  

I am slowly, slowly, building a writing business. I am forming the habit of writing.  I am getting braver at marketing myself (though I have a long way to go yet!).  I am learning to say, "I am a writer." I’m learning how to interview, how to craft an essay, how to edit away the excess words to find the pure thread of what I’m trying to say.  I’m learning to cut words I love too much that don’t further my point (I just cut a whole paragraph about my daughter that was right here).

I'm learning to flow around self-doubt and my inner critic.  I'm learning to flow through the process of learning the craft of writing.  I'm learning to flow past unanswered queries and rejected submissions.

Be like water.

It is a reminder I appreciate every morning, as I slowly come to consciousness and think about the day ahead of me. Flow through, around, over.  Never stop.  If I am clear about what I want, and persistent, it will happen. Water can wear down mountains, cut massive canyons through the earth.  Patiently, but persistently. And also water can collect in deep, rejuvenating pools.  Resting before flowing on.

 

Making Work at Home Work: Guest post at Veronicaarmstrong.com

I'm excited to have a guest post up over on Veronica Armstrong's beautiful blog this morning.  

In it I offer some tips on how to make working at home with kids productive.  I hope you'll visit and let me know if the post is helpful.

The regularly scheduled 10 Links on Tuesday post will be up here a bit later today, as soon as I finish editiing it.  Be sure to check back, as it has a fun theme today!

Putting rest on the list

Being a mom is a full time job. Launching a business is a full time job. Doing both at once is a bit overwhelming.

The only way I manage to keep it all together is to have a detailed to-do list.  But it is so easy to become slave to my list. The never ending list.

Tonight I gave myself the night off. Coconut chai and triple ginger snaps and an episode of Grey's Anatomy over a new sweater project for my girl. The list will still be there in the morning.

When I find myself in a period of focused drive like this, I have to remind myself to prioritize self care.  Self care doesn't always feel "productive." Spending time taking care of myself doesn't show measurable progress toward my goals.  But it is so necessary.  

It may sound strange, but I added a "self-care" section on that to-do list.  Putting tasks on my list means I do them, and putting self-care on my list brings it up to the level of importance equal to the business and household tasks that it sits beside. Tonight I took a few minutes to add some things to it: journal time, sleep in one morning this week, finish the blanket project.   

But the list is long and I know I will still spend more time on the "work" tasks than the "fun" ones.  So this week I'm going to try a new iPhone app as a way to remind myself to pay attention to myself.  Bloom, by the company MindBloom, is an offshoot of their online Life Game. The app allows users to set up "Blooms," or reminders, to do various things.  For example, I can schedule a Bloom with an inspiring quote, a reminder to drink a glass of water, or just to take a big deep breath. Used together with the MindBloom online tool, or even a Life Plan like Michael Hyatt writes about, Bloom could be a powerful tool to create change in one's life.

But right now I'm just interested in reminding myself to breathe, slow down for a minute, take a mini rest.  

Have you used Bloom, or MindBloom online?  Do you put self-care on your to-do list?

 

In between: The importance of refilling the creative well

I finished a writing assignment on Saturday and submitted it to my editor.  Sunday and Monday are not working days for me, so today was my first day back at the computer.  My work hours are precious - I have only 14 of them each week - so when I have childcare I usually hit the ground running and don't stop until I absoultely have to leave the keyboard.  But today I gave  myself permission to do nothing.  

For the last few days I have been dragging. I have felt emotionally and creatively drained. My courage has been iffy and I have been questioning how I spend my time and energy.  I have a scratchy throat and I long for my cozy bed.  Preferably with no squirmy toddler in it.

Back when I was a project manager of really big projects, I grew to love the in-between-project time.  After you ship and after you celebrate there is this little slip of time in which you can take a great big breath and re-fill.  Re-juice.  In that space, if you give yourself permission, you can find the most wonderful things.  New ideas.  Things you've learned but haven't had time to assimilate yet.  Epiphanies. The energy to design new processes and strategies if you need them.

So today, instead of anything that looked much like work, I caught up on all the articles I had filed away in Safari Reader.  I sat on the couch and sipped a cup of lemon tea while the cats warmed my hip.  I made a turkey and gouda sandwich and ate it sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table while I flipped through my writing notebook.  I organized my list of ideas for essays and got them all in one place.  I started a few new draft posts for this here blog.  I stopped in the middle of what I was doing to grab my camera and photograph a flower on the kitchen windowsill that was catching the afternoon sun just so.  I cleaned off my desk and paid the bills.  I sat in the sun and read a letter (on actual paper!) from a friend who lives half a world away.  I updated both of my computers with all the recent software updates. I cleared out my email inbox.

I didn't have any epiphanies this time.  But I did decide to write this post, and I did remind myself that I have lots of ideas churning. So many! I thought a bit about what kind of writing I want to do next and how I want to build my business. And I reviewed my organizational methods and decided they are working for me still.

Most importantly, though.  I feel better.  My throat is still scratchy, but I'm sitting up straighter. I'm smiling, and I'm excited to start working again.  And I still have 40 minutes until I go pick up the kid.  

Do you do this?  Do you pause between projects?  What do you do to refill your cup right after you have finished something big?

Making room for writing

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.  ~Vladimir Nabakov

In the midst of this life I am living, with a baby still at the age where she is intent on bashing in her head or choking on something in addition to refusing to nap, a partner who works far away and for long hours, a garden that needs tending, kittens to keep out of trouble and a household to keep running, I am committing to write.  And so I have begun the process of finding room.  

It is not unlike the process of moving a rather large piece of furniture into an already full house. Will it fit here, in this room?  What if I move that, turn this sideways, stack these up there?  What if I give away the ratty old chair and move the lamp like this?  What can I let go of to make room for this?  

I have talked to other writers who are mamas about how they make room for their work.  Some have given up television (did that years ago, no space there).  Some step back from housework, simplify the cooking or commit to eating take out just a bit more often.  Some hire help in the form of babysitting or housecleaning or shopping delivery. Some lean more heavily on their partners, take a half day during the weekend, or one night a week.  Some trade time with other moms. Most sleep less whether that means staying up very late or getting up very early. All of them say there is never enough and they are always tired.    

Mostly it is about utter focus and dedication.  And lists.  Always know what you can do in the amount of time you have to do it, and know what needs to be done at any given time.  In five minutes I can answer 2 or 3 emails, follow up on a couple of open queries, jot down a list of ideas in my notebook.  In 15 I can outline an essay and in 30 I can write a thousand words.  They will be written badly, but in another 30 I can edit and revise them. I always have a notebook with me and my brain is always working in the background.

This is a whole new way of looking at creativity than I had in my old life.  I had no idea what a luxury time was and I cringe at how much of it I wasted on doing nothing in all of my child-free years.  I have no time now for wrestling with my muse.  She needs to shut up and sit down because I have only 1 hour and 5 things to accomplish.  No time for worrying if my work is good enough.  It is done, therefore it is good enough.  

The new furniture isn't in quite the right place yet - I'm still stubbing my toes when I walk by in the dark - but it is in the door and it is here to stay.

Career moves, or a career that moves me

I was hired at Apple in the spring of 1999.  Later I would joke that I got the job when they were hiring anyone with a pulse, but that doesn't give me much credit.  I didn't have much directly applicable experience, but I was not without skills and I'm grateful for the management team who recognized them and took a chance on me.  When I interviewed for the Apple job I was working at a small law firm where I had been for three years and had advanced as far as I was likely to get without pursuing a law degree. I was bored.  I loved the firm and I loved the other staff but I needed more challenge.  A good friend worked as a software tester at Apple and one day when I was grumbling about my going-nowhere job he challenged me to send him my resume.  

I have always been an Mac user.  By which I mean I never learned how to use Windows (until, ironically, I was testing Apple devices on a Windows machine while working at Apple years later).  In retrospect I can see that could have been a very career-limiting deficiency, but somehow I had always lucked into jobs in offices that used Macs or simple-enough dedicated systems that I didn't need any other skills.  So the idea of working at Apple was somewhat of a dream, but not one I'd ever put any energy into pursuing because it seemed so terribly far-fetched.  Until they called and wanted to meet me.  Even after the interview I was sure I was such a long shot that I bleached my hair and then dyed it fire-engine red, thinking I'd never hear from them again.  And then they called for a second interview. Luckily Apple is not a company that cares much about the color of one's hair. 

I doubled my salary that year and thought that this was going to be a fun interlude until I went back to my real life.  I'd earn a bit of money, save up a down payment for a house, then go back to being a starving artist. Each year I said, "Just one more year," but each year there were new and interesting projects, promotions and new positions that challenged and engaged me.  At about year eight I had a conversation with my then manager about where I was going with my career, what my goals were, and what engaged me. And I realized I had somehow fallen into a career.  I had moved from software testing to management, QA management to project management, and then built up a team from scratch and was responsible for shepherding 20 or more projects running concurrently.  I was disclosed on projects running years into the future and was balanced in the perfect spot of seeing the big picture of the company's direction and being hands-on with engineers writing out lines of code.  I loved project management.  I saw it as my mission to get all the details taken care of so the people doing the hard work could do the hard work.  My mantra was, "how can this be easier?" and I loved being able to sit down with engineers and other managers and say, "How can I help you today?"  I couldn't write code but I could keep track of details, make lists and send reminders.  I could listen to someone feeling frustrated and figure out what needed to shift to let them get back in motion.  I could get the right people in the room to work out a problem and then hold the door shut on the rest of the world for them until they nailed it.  I loved it.  I was so excited to get up and go to work every day.

But at some point, things started to slip sideways.  I'm not even really sure what it was or where it began.  I don't seem to be able to talk about it, still, without sounding like I got sour grapes.  But suffice it to say that at some point I realized that I wasn't saying, "Just one more year," and I was no longer excited to go to work every day.  In fact, I had begun to dread it.

In the days following Steve Job's death I saw this quote a number of times, excerpted from the Stanford commencement address he gave in 2005: 

You 've got to find what you love.  And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers.  Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.   And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.  If you haven't found it yet, keep looking.  Don't settle.  As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it.

I left Apple in June of 2010.  There was no longer room for the work I was best at and the work that remained wasn't a good fit for me.  The days were too long and the work too hard to continue when I was no longer in love.  There is some irony in the fact that following Steve's good advice lead me to leave the company that he loved so much.  But that was his great work, and no longer mine.

I'm still not entirely sure what the work is that I love.  I know that I loved being a manager and supporting my team through hard transitions, through growth and into new heights.  I loved being of service, being able and willing to say "How can I help you today?" and then really listening to the answer.  I know I love to write, and I love the power of communication to connect people, to change minds, to tell stories.  I love working with brilliant, passionate people.  I love making things by hand and I love how teaching others to make things empowers them in so many ways beyond the making of the thing itself.  I love food and the growing and sharing of it.  I am fascinated by language and the ways we use it.  I love learning, and I am learning that I love mothering.  

Maybe someday I will train as a life coach, work as a management consultant or train people to be better leaders.  But for now I am putting more of my writing out into the world and soon my words will be showing up in new places and on new topics. And I am mothering this small being who has been entrusted to me. Just now that feels like all the great work I need to be doing.

the distance of one year

Just about one year ago, my manager brought me some baby eggplants, which I wrote about here.  Last week, she brought me a few more, as they have shown up again at her neighborhood farmer's market.

It struck me, while photographing them, how much has changed in my life in this last year.  M. is no longer my manager, in fact no longer even working in my department.  I was promoted to her position, which at the time I was sure I was unprepared for, but in which I have excelled.  Where we used to look into each other's office windows across a patio and have active chat windows open all day each day, joking and gossiping about work and co-workers, now I'm excited when I run into her in the hall, and we have to schedule coffee or the occassional meal together days in advance.  My new manager, while vocal in his appreciation of me, would never bring me eggplants for a treat.  He's just not that observant of my quirks.  I'm not even sure he knows that I paint, or even that I'm handy with a camera.  It is very different working for a man than for a woman, and I'm still discovering how to communicate with him effectively and efficiently, where M. and I were like two peas in a pod almost immediately, often finishing each other's sentences and communicating in glances and half-statements.

Even more personally, I find that the camera is now more often my medium than the paintbrush, and the quality of my photographs has improved massively.  I'm less intimidated by the kitchen these days, and there's a greater chance that this batch of eggplants will get cooked and eaten than the last batch.  The house I brought these home to is now ours, and I caught myself considering that dark maroon as an accent wall color when processing this photo.

What hasn't changed:  I'm still charmed by eggplants, especially the itty-bitty ones.  I still haven't figured out how to grow them in our cool coastal micro-climate.  I still have the need to capture and save this small moment of happy beauty - an unexpected gift of friendship - in words and images.  I occupy the same window office, off the same patio, and I'm still a QuickTime girl at heart.