Tag Archives: choices

Friends (of) … With Benefits

No, not that kind of friends with benefits. This is about the many wonderful organizations that give you wonderful free things in return for your support. On Saturday, I attended a percussion concert at Alice Tully Hall, courtesy of a friend’s contribution to the Julliard Association. Here’s what the membership includes:

Two complimentary tickets by mail for six performances per semester (12 per year). Selection can be made from orchestra, chamber music, and dance performances based on availability.
Access to the Juilliard dining hall in the Samuel B. and David Rose Building adjacent to the School
Advance ticket purchase by mail to Juilliard Opera productions, the Alice Tully Vocal Arts Debut Recital, and the William Petschek Piano Debut Recital
Advance ticket purchase by mail for special Juilliard performances, including Juilliard galas and Carnegie Hall concerts
A subscription to the Members’ Calendar of Events and The Juilliard Journal, published eight times per year

If you prefer art, the Whitney Museum allows you to curate your own membership. This can include

tickets to their summer opening cocktail reception to preview and celebrate our newest exhibitions with other members, curators, and artists
Invitation for two to the annual champagne reception in the Trustee Boardroom for informal mixing and networking
Ongoing invitations to cultural events throughout NYC, including receptions, gallery openings, and art fairs
Two guest passes so you can invite your friends or entertain colleagues
Invitation for two to a Behind-the-Scenes tour of the Museum, including access to normally restricted areas
Exclusive presentations by our curatorial staff with insights on the curatorial process and Q&A
Quarterly recommendations from curators and art insiders about cultural activities not to be missed in NYC

and more.

Interested in dance? Here’s what Alvin Ailey has to offer:

Priority notification of American Ballet Theatre’s Spring Season at the Met
Two (2) passes to a special ABT Working Dress Rehearsal at the Met
Two (2) passes to a Working Dress Rehearsal in selected tour cities
Subscription to ABT’s publication On Point and ABT’s member e-news

The list goes on – and it’s all one search away. There’s community theater; there are local music groups for every taste.

What can you find?

Turning a Bad Habit Good

Have you ever left home to do one simple thing and return exhausted five or six hours later? For a long time, this was my story. I had a close friend living down the hall and we regularly went grocery shopping and did other errands together. As we headed out to drop off the laundry, one of us would mention that we were near the Italian grocery store, so maybe we could just squeeze that in … and the bakery … and that great discount store … and … and … and. The simplest trip became an excursion. On the way to the Greenmarket, why don’t we stop at the coffee store – and maybe sit down for a cup of something while we’re there. And maybe we can look at that sound system. And the dress I need for the wedding. And stop at the Strand to see what great books are on sale, etc. etc.

It finally occurred to me that this might be a bad habit. It wasn’t serving either one of us well to hold the fantasy that we were doing only one thing. Or that we’d be home in an hour. We left a wake of undone chores and cranky people and usually came home to tired to do anything else.

We learned to set limits. And to stick to them. We set time limits that allowed for some flexibility in terms of the number of activities we might add to the schedule. We set a limit on the number of things we would do and committed to holding ourselves to it. It worked. We had enough flexibility to enjoy ourselves and allow for surprises and reasonable boundaries to keep the rest of our lives on schedule.

Well, recently, I’ve been thinking about an issue that needs resolving. I really enjoy a clean, neat apartment. I hate carving out huge chunks of time for cleaning. And I’m not ready to hire someone to clean for me. Inconvenient. Involves a lot of pre-cleaning. (Yes, you know what I mean.)

I’m recycling my “bad” habit of adding things on to a simple journey. Since coaching and writing are both sedentary occupations, I’m working hard at getting up out of the chair at least every two hours so I don’t turn into a pillar of stone. Why not make that a productive time? Why not add a little housekeeping to each walk through the apartment? So, I’m back to adopting the add on routine. Now, whenever I get up, I find one thing that needs to be returned to it’s proper home or one thing that can be dusted or cleaned or recycled. Instead of spending half a day cleaning, I’m spending a manageable 30 minutes to an hour a day without even noticing it.

Hey, it’s working! I don’t notice the time invested in this way and the place is looking good. It’s almost better than magic elves coming in the middle of the night. I’m going to apply it to work projects I dislike as well.

Living In a Disposable World

Somehow, it seems that fewer and fewer things are built to last. Phones change from month to month. Computers need constant updating – and, after a while, they don’t support yet another update so you need a new one. It’s often less expensive to replace things than to repair them.

Lately, clothing has taken this trend towards disposability further than ever. Chains like Zara and H & M trade on the need for whatever is new and trendy. Zara’s strategy is to have a smaller inventory with a shorter shelf-life. They change their entire stock every few months, so the old strategy of waiting for sales doesn’t work here. Like it? Better buy it today, because it will probably be gone tomorrow, replaced by an even newer trend.

These new stores keep prices down, too. It’s easy to buy too many things at Zara or H & M or Joe Fresh or Uniqlo – after all, it’s only $19 … or $29 … or, at the most, $69. Sticker shock doesn’t hit until you check out and see how all these “it’s only” prices add up.

For those who grew up on hand-me-downs or learned how to stretch a limited budget by carefully selecting new items that would integrate well into an existing wardrobe, this age of disposability is a very different world. We still look for durability, and many of these items will last a season or two. Some are even classic enough to not become obsolete.

Still, what’s the larger impact of living in a disposable world? A recent New York Times article points out that it’s sometimes easier to replace a stained garment than to clean it. Why pass along your baby clothes when new ones are so inexpensive? Why take good care of garments that will be out of fashion in weeks? How much of this is recyclable? Where will all the garbage go? Are antiques going to disappear too? Will all our cherished mementos be digital?

I wonder if this will seep into how we think as well. If everything is impermanent, there’s always room for change and new beginnings. On the other hand, if everything is impermanent, are there still consequences?

Just wondering.

Now What? Feeling Stuck After the Storm

It’s a couple of weeks since the storm; less since the snow. And it’s a gloomy, drizzly day. Many neighborhoods are cleaned up. Some have a long way to go. I’m finding a lot of gloom in the people I speak to as well. Cab drivers, strangers on the bus, friends are all sharing disaster stories. Most of these are not personal. They’re about people we’ve seen on television or read about. Some are about friends and family. Few are about personal loss.

What all these story-tellers have in common is a feeling of frustration and loss without any feeling of being entitled to feel this way. It’s an odd sort of depression – and maybe a degree of PTSD. It’s hard to not think of earlier catastrophes – all those people trying to recover in Breezy Point are also living in the shadow of the plane crash ten years ago. Homes that survived that have now been leveled. Many who lost their homes and belongings are the bedroom communities that sent loved ones off to work in the World Trade Center. And now this.

We think we’ve moved on, but maybe not. After our earthquake experience last year, I noticed something interesting in people’s reactions. In midtown Manhattan, people were making jokes about the experience. One woman on the bus was telling a friend on the phone that yeah, she was buried under a heap of rubble, but she had water, so she was fine. In lower Manhattan, though, people boarding the bus were silent and ashen-faced. Too many memories, even ten years later.

As we try to help those who suffered the direct impact of the storm, we might also take a little time for those on the periphery – including, perhaps, ourselves. We’ve contributed to the funds. Packed up supplies. Donated online. Volunteered. And it doesn’t feel like enough. We can help, but we can’t bring back the little, most important things – the keepsakes, the photos, and in some cases, the loved ones. We’re helpless and many of us are sad.

Sad. And feeling like that’s wrong. What, some of us are asking, do I have to complain about? My problems are so small. There’s something flawed in that logic, though. It’s a little like cleaning your plate as a kid because children in China were starving. How did your finishing the vegetables help those kids? Acknowledge that you are feeling lost and stuck if that’s how you feel.

This is a good time to reach out and help everyone you can. And a good time to be happy about doing that. And to know that you can’t do everything, yet every little bit contributes to the overall rebuilding.

It’s also a good time to take care of yourself. Reach out to your friends who are feeling the way you feel. Be kind to each other. Celebrating the love around you puts more love out into the world. Being happy doesn’t steal happiness away from someone else – it expands the pool of happiness.

Kindness

I have always been impressed with something I heard about the Mennonites. When disaster strikes, I was told, the Mennonites just show up and start working. They don’t ask disaster victims what they need. They just ask which room to start in and do what needs to be done. This impressed me both because of the kindness and because of the practicality. Survivors of any disaster are in a special kind of suspended animation. they are in shock. They aren’t always in the best position to articulate their needs, and, for the most part, those needs are glaringly clear. So having someone show up and pitch in restores an element of calm and comfort.

Many years ago, I heard a similar story about a small town. When someone died, people just showed up at the family home armed with cleaning supplies and got to work. Anyone can bring food or send flowers, but it takes a different perspective to understand that maintaining a clean house is likely, while a nagging concern, low on the bereaved’s action list. And that people are going to be showing up at the house.

This week, in the aftermath of Sandy, people just showed up. Local people showed up with food. Marathon runners ran to Staten Island with backpacks full of supplies. Neighborhood organizations of every sort collected food and clothing. People from other states – not nearby – packed up trucks of supplies and headed to the tri-state area. One of my favorites is a man from Georgia who packed up a load of supplies and has been cooking up some southern comfort – grits and biscuits with sausage gravy – to hearten a New Jersey community. A couple in my building, both unemployed students with no money to spare, packed up a shopping cart full of clothing and food – and took a load from me as well – to a local drop-off point.

I’m not a big believer that every cloud has a silver lining, but often some small good does come out of disaster. Events like Sandy remind us that we’re all connected and that we all need each other. There’s some small thing that needs doing every day – some act of kindness, some small courtesy that will make someone smile, if only for a moment. Will you find one today?

It’s Lonely at the Top and It’s Crowded

Three non-profit heads walk into a bar …

Well, not exactly, although that might have given us a different perspective. My coach, my client and I all share the same dilemma. We each head a non-profit. And we each find ourself drowning under the weight of the position.

These are small non-profits, two with working Boards, one closer to the formative state and not quite ready for a full Board. All three of us are suffering from the Harry Truman syndrome, though – the buck stops here. Remember that old adage about stuff rolling downhill? Well, that’s not always true. Many small non-profits defy the laws of gravity. Work rolls uphill and lands squarely on the desk of the Founder or Chair or President. There are committee chairs and officers who may or may not play their assigned roles. There may be a cadre of volunteers. And still, there are too many projects on my plate. And my client’s plate.

My coach has found a partial solution. She she has an excellent virtual assistant She’s appointed a general manager and a project manager. These two people have the responsibility for organizing how the work of the organization gets done and tracking progress. It’s a good starting place. My client and I are discussing the advantages of hiring a virtual assistant while the client looks for the perfect right-hand person. I have an excellent virtual assistant.

Still, it comes right back to how we organize, what we delegate and how we follow through – the same issues faced by most managers. Here are a few thoughts:

1. Heads of organizations need to be divorced from the day-to-day operational aspects of the organization for the most part. They need to strategize and to be a public presence. They need to make contacts, maintain smooth relationships, instill a sense of mission. They do not need to do the scheduling, bookkeeping, collating and editing.

2. Even small non-profits need an operations or a project manager. Someone needs to track progress, find support as needed, and do follow-up work with committees. They, too, do not need to do the scheduling, bookkeeping, collating and editing. They should, however, supervise the people who do these tasks. The head person should not take on this role too.

3. A good virtual assistant saves endless hours. A good virtual assistant is great at all the things that a leader either isn’t good at or shouldn’t be doing. It’s time to get beyond the notion that VAs are some kind of disembodied clericals. Many are eager to understand the organization’s mission and become an external partner. They can not only keep things off the leader’s desk, they can also give valuable advice on systems and processes that will move the organization forward.

4. Volunteers need to keep their commitments. Every time. No exceptions. (See work rolling uphill.)

5. Someone other than the leader should be following up with committee chairs and volunteers to be sure they are making deadlines. (See project manager above.)

6. Leaders need to learn to sit on their hands. Just because you have a good idea, it doesn’t mean that you have to implement it.

7. Projects, assignments, etc. should all go out with due dates and interim reporting dates so that they can be tracked.

8. If crowded means your desk, your office, your inbox, your brain is/are crowded with other people’s responsibilities, learn to delegate and stick to it.

9. Sometimes, lonely is better.

Excuse me – I’m going off to take my own advice now.

After the Storm

I’m safe. I have electricity and water and phone service. I’m very grateful for this. And I sit here shocked at this storm that has hit the New York area.

I watch in the same disbelief that held me transfixed during Katrina. This time, though, it is my neighbors who are fleeing to shelters. Areas that are part of my childhood are gone. The restaurants where I lunch when I’m working in lower Manhattan may never reopen. Subway stations won’t be open for a while.

I think of friends still recovering from the storm that hit upstate New York and Vermont last year who have barely recovered. And the ones who may never recover.

And I think again about Katrina.

And the New Orleans that was.

Reports are mixed. I am heartened to hear of people helping each other – handing out food, helping people to safety, posting and tweeting their support. I am saddened to hear of people just walking on by. What I really wonder, though, is what people will be doing next week. Will we still be reaching out to our neighbors? Will we help with the clean-up? Or will we turn away?

The storm is over. The hard work has barely begun. I hope that we’re up to it.

No, 60 Isn’t the New 40 (Revisited)

This is a story about my new shower curtain liner. And age and agility.

I’m sixty seven and I’m proud of my age. I don’t mind a few crinkles around my eyes or even that things are not necessarily in their original locations (ah, gravity). I don’t think that 60 is the new 40. On the other hand, I don’t believe that 60 is old. I don’t think age defines what we can or can’t do, but maybe sometimes it’s good to be a tad more careful.

So why is this about a shower curtain liner? My old liner had gotten dingy and seemed to plan to stay that way, so I went out and got a new one. No problem – I didn’t mind having no shower curtain overnight because the drying rack was in the tub (yes, some of us still do hand laundry).

Fast-forward to the next day. I decided that I wanted a quick shower. No problem – I moved the drying rack and then realized that I hadn’t put up the shower curtain.

OK – this is easy, right. Not so much, it turns out. At 40, I easily balanced on the rim of the tub. Today, it made me shaky. And dizzy. OK – stepladder. Not as much of an improvement as I’d hoped, but it works.

Now, somehow, I’m not lining up the hooks correctly. It takes three tries to have them in the right spaces. Not necessarily a standing on a stepladder task, perhaps. This is taking a lot longer than I’d expected. Should have considered the ladder.

Task completed. But it reminds me that 60 is not the new 40. While long walks and dancing stay on the agenda, maybe there will be fewer substitutions for actual ladders. Or – I have more money than I did at 40 – I can pay someone to climb and lift and carry.

I know that some 90 year-olds run marathons. I wouldn’t have been able to do that at 20 and I don’t want to. A friend can still do a cartwheel at 70. Now that’s something I aspire to. And maybe even go nyah-nyah – bet you thought I couldn’t do it AT MY AGE afterwards.

There are all kinds of distinctions. And just because at 25 I didn’t have the sense to realize that I couldn’t lug a 30 pound turkey a mile doesn’t mean I haven’t developed a little judgement over the decades. I believe in shopping carts and the occasional car service when I can’t just get something delivered. And I believe in shopping online.

I’m saving my energy for the good stuff – vacations, parties, nights out with friends, long walks. And I’m admitting that there are both things I don’t want to do and things I can’t easily do. And, more and more often, I think I’ll choose not to do those things.

Hey – I earned it – don’t bother me!

Living the Good Life Debt Free

There’s a lot of excellent advise available about how to live debt free. And most of it just sounds painful. Now, I’m all for having no debts and am working on it as hard as I can – not there yet, but will be. The problem is, most of what you read makes it sound like you’ll need to give up anything that is remotely fun and live on bread and water. Maybe just water.

Over the past few months, I’ve been reminded that it just isn’t so. As I continue to whip out my debit card instead of my credit card, I smile gleefully at the thought of the inters I’m saving. I’ve cut back a little – but not a lot – on taking myself out, buying myself toys, traveling, and, in general, enjoying life. I’ve upped the payments on my credit cards for more than a year now and love seeing the balances slide ever closer to zero. As I said, I’m getting there.

This week, though, I had the opportunity to see what it looks like to be there. I’m visiting family in Georgia, and my niece and her husband completed this journey a while ago. Except for having a mortgage, they are debt free. And they are living a life that anyone could be proud of. The two of them and three dogs share a fairly small yet very nicely appointed and spacious enough home. They both are great cooks – he smokes meat a mean piece of beef and she is great at everything else – and no strangers to gourmet stores and local farmers. (A little Valharon molten chocolate cake to top off that dinner?)

We spent an afternoon being chauffeured around by her in a spacious rental car as we visited a couple of local vineyards and discussing her plans for the future, which include a week in Italy and in the next few years buying a new house with enough property to raise animals. A very nice life.

So, as I sit here typing on my new MacBook Air, purchased with a credit card, yes, and then paid off two hours later, I contemplate my own debt free future. It’s nice to know that I’ll get there. And nicer to know that the path I’ve chosen is a sound one – room for fun, good food, adventures and still dwindling balances.

Trying Serendipity

I love it when things just appear exactly when I need them, don’t you? This has been a week of serendipitous happenings – from perfect people showing up to something as simple as the perfect tomato. I’m just dancing!

On Saturday, I called a friend to check on the date of a street fair that turns out to be next week. There was another fair that Saturday, though, and my friend had an unexpected empty space in her normally packed schedule, so we were able to spend a beautiful afternoon together. The weather conspired in our favor and it was one of those perfect, cool, breezy September days. We had a wonderful stroll, admired many beautiful things and managed to buy none of them.

We needed coffee, though, and on the way discovered a new store, where I found the perfect dress for an upcoming event. And, on a side trip to check on a second dress (that turned out to be wrong for me), I discovered the perfect shoes to go with the dress.

The day before, a quick trip to the Greenmarket yielded some perfect tomatoes and a bargain – delicious – lunch at a new pizza place.

Sunday, completing the last of the seasonal closet switch-over led to the discovery of my long-lost silk thermals and a favorite shirt I thought was long gone.

A brief check-in to plan a meeting this morning led to the discovery of a perfect interview for my book project, an invitation to join a group, and this week’s Woman of the Week.

The more good things come along, the happier I’m feeling. And the happier I’m feeling, the more good things appear. It feels like magic, but it isn’t really. If you’re looking for the good, you’ll see the good. If you come to expect wonderful surprises, well, there they are.

There will be gloomy days, rainy days, frustrating days, overwhelmed days, I’m sure. And it will be tempting to wallow and look for the negative. And see the negative. And expect the negative.

And on those days, I’m trying serendipity.