The power of the bandaid

                                                                                                   



A few days ago at work I suffered a small papercut on my finger. It wasn't terribly bad, but it was bleeding and I was on my way to a meeting.  I quickly rummaged around in our office first aid kit for a bandaid.  I pulled one out, opened it, and put it over the bloody spot on my finger.  I went off to the meeting and didn't think about it again.

That evening, when I was washing up before bed, I noticed that the paper cut was on a different finger!  I had put the bandaid over the spot on the adjacent finger where the blood had rubbed off, not over the paper cut. 

What do we say when a little one comes to us with a "boo boo"?  We kiss it to make it better.  Or, we put on a bandaid!  The injury often doesn't require a cover, but that bandaid is magical. It indicates that something is being done, a complaint is being taken seriously, a voice is being heard.

I obviously didn't need the bandaid to stop the bleeding or protect the cut. But, I had felt so much better after putting on the bandaid, even though it was on the wrong finger.   I was comforted by my bandaid on the wrong finger because I felt I had taken an action, had responded, had addressed the situation. 

How many times in life are we asked by someone for a bandaid--to respond, to care, to listen?

Packing a bag

Both of my pregnancies went well past their due dates, so you would think I would have been well-prepared with my bags packed. I wasn't.  I did do some packing, a change of underwear, a nightgown, something to wear home and something for the baby to wear home.  But I didn't have any special lotions or books or music or candies. I didn't put a lot of thought into those bags, I admit.

Many years later, I packed another bag. It had a change of clothes for me and my son, a couple of toothbrushes and some cash.  I kept it in the trunk of my car for a few months, not sure when I might need to quickly leave a house where it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay.  I did need to use that bag once, alone, and I was glad it was there many other nights. It was like the life rings along the pool, you hope you will never need them, but having them there makes you feel safer.

Over the last few months I've often taken a packed bag with me on a visit to my father's house, not sure what situation I would find and how long I might need to stay. A few times my sisters and I have had an impromptu sleepover, sitting up late in our childhood home wondering together what the future will bring. Having a bag ready has given me those comforting nights.

Now, I've started to pack a bag again. This time so that I can quickly make a trip to meet my first grandchild.  I want to be ready when the call comes. I'll get my toiletries together, a change of clothes, something to sleep in. I know I'll be excited and worry that I'll forget some essential item (like my contact lens case!)

All of these life transitions have needed bags.  These little duffels that hold just enough to hold you over for a couple of days, the bare essentials, the minimum you would need to get through. It would be good to strip many things in my life down to the minimum, the bare essentials.

Thinking about packing bags brings to my mind this great song by Nancy Griffith, "Things I Don't Need," with these lyrics:

Like a bag you unpack at the end of a trip
You're wondering why did I take all of this?
These things I don't need, weigh me down
I woke up today and I made up my mind
From now on I'll leave all those things I don't need behind

End of summer....

Time for a reality check...here was my summer "to do" list at work:

develop the assessment plan for one of our degree programs
                   worked on it, didn't finish it
form an curriculum committee for that program
                   got a "yes" from one person
make modifications to the program based on changes in course offerings
                   didn't do
create advising notes for the students in the program
                  didn't finish, but started
develop a co-terminal degree option for that program
                  didn't do
develop guidelines for departmental external reviews
                  gathered examples from other places
develop list of possible external review committee members
                  completed***
apply for teacher CEU credits for a fall program (something I've never done before and have no model for doing...)
                 spent a lot of time on this, but not sure I've done it right
work with admissions to coordinate this fall program for potential students
                  didn't do
develop a charge for a task group on sexual harassment that I'm chairing
                 didn't finish
recruit faculty to serve on the committee
                 got a list of names
figure out how to dissolve a non-profit organization where I am the secretary-treasurer
                 made significant progress, know how to do it, just need to do it
create syllabus for fall class
                completed*****


Well, that is pretty depressing.  Of course, there were many things that didn't make the list that had to be managed--a couple of sticky personnel issues, summer advising, planning a fall event, some alumni visits. 

Classes start today.

The Convalescence Novel

One of my favorite podcasts is Helen Zaltzman's "The Allusionist," devoted to language and linguistics.  She explores word origins and meanings, language development, linguistic differences, and all types of things related to words.  The latest episode is titled, "The Novel Remedy," and addresses something I have long considered--the power of books to heal, or at least, illustrate our personal hurts.

I've been the member of several book groups over the past 15 years.  The women's book group has become a bit of trope, bored women using the excuse of a book to come together, drink wine, and complain about their lives (marriages or lack thereof, primarily).  Fortunately, my book groups, while containing some wine, largely have focused on the books.  But, there are times when our personal experiences enter into the discussion and I find those the most interesting discussions.  Isn't that an author wants, for us, the readers to connect to the book? to feel something?

I enjoy books of all types, but the ones that stick with me are the ones where I feel I learned something, could be a fact or historical insight, but more often it is a perspective on life that resonates with me, or mirrors my own experience.

Zaltzman's podcast starts with a discussion of her request to listeners to share the books they turn to when they are ill, what books comfort them, what are their "convalescence books."  Many mentioned books of science fiction or magic, escapism.  Some referred to books from their childhood, comforting old friends.  Agatha Christie novels blossomed in a time when the world was recovering from the first world war. They offered a new vision of heroism, a sense of domestic calm, and, importantly, a resolution.  To top it off, they didn't require a lot of energy to read, they were easy and undemanding. All things people were looking to find in the aftermath of the horrific war.

Jane Gregory, a psychologist interviewed by Helen, goes on to discuss the role that novels can play in a therapeutic setting. I have often suggested to my therapist that she should start a therapy book group.  People would read a book and then discuss how the experiences and emotions of the character related to their own lives.  (She just smiles at this suggestion, although she and I often discuss books and share recommendations.)  Gregory argues that novels allow us to drop our defenses, we go into them expecting to be entertained in some sense, we are open to the ideas of the characters. At the same time, while we are empathetic, we aren't directly experiencing the emotions, we are observing them, we are at a bit of a distance.  One comment she made that I found particularly helpful was that in a book we experience the arc of a story--beginning, conflict, and resolution.  We see that life goes on, as she says, " no feeling you've ever had has ever stayed forever." 

There is much more in the episode and it is best appreciated by listening, https://www.theallusionist.org/allusionist/convalescence

but you can also read the transcript here:
https://www.theallusionist.org/transcripts/convalescence

Of course, the best convalescence novel.....Princess Bride!
 

Bagging Groceries

 
 I worked in a grocery story for about a year during college.  Smitty's, down on the "levee" in the area between West Lafayette and Lafayette was a family owned, full service, grocery.  Mostly I was a cashier, in the days before bar codes when you had to memorize the price of milk, eggs, and beer, but sometimes I would stock shelves.  Occasionally, if it was slow (and the stock boys were bored) or super busy (and the lines were getting long), we had baggers, but more often the cashiers who rang up the purchases bagged the groceries, too.  We were all instructed on basic rules, like don't put the bread on the bottom, but otherwise we were pretty much left to our own particular style.  I liked to group items--cold things in one bag, non-food items in another.  I tried to balance the weight so that all the cans weren't in one bag, or so that the peaches weren't squashed against the cat food. (It is amazing how many cans of cat food some people bought!)

I guess those bagging experiences have been hard for me to shake and I realize I've become quite critical of grocery store baggers.  I frequently find myself rebagging my groceries after checking out.  Some baggers seem to take it as a challenge to try to fit all my purchases in as few bags as possible.  I always go to the store with 5-6 reusable totes, but if they can get everything into 1 they look so proud. It's like a giant 3D jigsaw puzzle to them.  I live on the third floor and find it much easier to carry 2-3 lighter bags up the stairs than 1 heavy one.

But, I've never had an experience like yesterday's at Trader Joe's.  As usual, I brought my own bag for the 8 or so purchases I made.  As the cashier scanned the items, I put them in my reusable tote.  But, he finished scanning a bit before I finished bagging.

"Here, let me," he said and grabbed the bag and took everything out! 
"Don't you like how I was doing it?" I asked.
"Sorry," he said, "I guess it's just my OCD."
"Well, maybe MY OCD is why I was doing it!"

Now we had it, an OCD standoff!  Who should bag the groceries? I could have argued that the customer is always right and grabbed the bag back, taken everything out and done it MY way. But I conceded the bagging job and let him rearrange my groceries.

"See," he exclaimed happily, "Now you have more room!"

More room for what I wondered?  I was done shopping, I didn't NEED more room.  But he looked so pleased with himself that I just smiled and took my bag.

Summer

 

One of the harder questions I get asked is "What do you do at work during the summer?" I know there is this perception that universities shut down for the summer, but that isn't the case.  True, we have summer classes going on, but that is not what takes up the most of my time.  I sat down today to make a list of things I need to get done in the next month, before our new students arrive on August 10.

Here is my list:
develop the assessment plan for one of our degree programs
form an curriculum committee for that program
make modifications to the program based on changes in course offerings
create advising notes for the students in the program
develop a co-terminal degree option for that program
develop guidelines for departmental external reviews
develop list of possible external review committee members
apply for teacher CEU credits for a fall program (something I've never done before and have no model for doing...)
work with admissions to coordinate this fall program for potential students
develop a charge for a task group on sexual harassment that I'm chairing
recruit faculty to serve on the committee
figure out how to dissolve a non-profit organization where I am the secretary-treasurer
create syllabus for fall class

I'll check back after August 10 and let you know what's been accomplished.

Imrpov, it's trendy

In my meandering quest towards self-actualization I've tried a variety of new things--writing, meditation, storytelling, yoga, folk dancing, running, and gymming, to name a few (and I just made up that last word because "exercising" or "working out" don't seem to be quite right...I go to the gym, regularly).

My last venture was improv, or improvisational acting.  Being in Chicago, the birthplace of improv, it was something I had to try.  Second City is well-known as the incubator of comedic geniuses like Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, Steve Carell, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, etc.... But in addition to their shows, Second City runs a robust training program.  There are classes for kids, teens, older adults, corporate types, movie makers, actors, script writers, voice over artists....you name it, they do it.



I had heard of one of the central tenets of improv, "Yes, and...," in strategic planning workshops.  The idea is that rather than knocking down an idea, you build on it.  This approach encourages the generation of unique solutions, builds trust, and creates a more collaborative environment, so they say.  As someone who frequently has to lead brainstorming and planning sessions, I thought I might benefit from learning more about improv.

In checking out the class schedule I noticed a class aimed at those 55 and older.  Only problem was that it was offered in the middle of the day. I guess there are a lot of retired 55 year olds out there. Not me.  I dilly dallied around for several months, debating about whether I had the time, money, and inclination to commit to 8 weeks of classes.  Finally, I pulled the trigger and signed up.

My eight weeks of classes ran January through February.  We were a group of about 18, with a disproportionate number of men (13 v 5).  I was the oldest class member, there was another "mature" man in the class, but the average age was maybe 27.
  
                                       
 
 What's a class like? Lots of games, like the kind of games you play at summer camp or a retreat.  We did trust building activities, like leading a blindfolded classmate through the halls, and cooperation building activities, like untangling a human knot. We threw imaginary balls to each other, sometimes 3 or 4 at a time. We passed around strange sounds and actions. We sang songs, rhymed words, talked in nonsensical babble, and mimed. The emphasis was not on being funny, but on the key elements of teamwork--trust; giving and receiving; recognizing, supporting, and acknowledging each other.

Not everything we did was comfortable or easy for me. I learned a bit about myself. I know I'm better with concrete tasks, and I could feel my logical side fighting for control in some exercises. But, when my partner and I took turns mirroring each other's motions and then let "invisible person C" lead us, I found I could let myself relax and be guided by our energy, rather than our brains.

At the end of the eight weeks I decided to sign up for the next session, then life intervened and I couldn't continue the classes. I'm not sure if I will go back, but I'm glad I experienced a bit of what improv is about.

Improv seems to be a trendy topic.  One of my Illinois Tech alumni uses improv exercises in her clinical psychology practice. 

 https://magazine.iit.edu/spring-2018/better-living-through-improv


I recently read another "mature" student's account of his Second City experiences.

https://medium.com/@JayGerhart/thinking-improv-do-it-my-first-18-magical-hours-part-1-6508349625dd

It is even being promoted as a perspective for those working with people who have dementia.

 https://changingaging.org/dementia/dementia-the-joy-of-living-an-improvisational-life/?utm_source=email&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=SocialShares