Category: bliss

Inspiring Bliss

Heroes are all around us and sometimes inspiration finds us where we least expect it. My son, my mom, and my daughter are all inspiring me to change my life in positive ways right now because they have all taken an honest look at themselves and are doing something to change.

My nineteen year old son is a true inspiration to me because he’s realized he has a problem with his weight and he’s doing something to change it. Unfortunately for Sean he inherieted my metabolism which means he can look at chocolate and gain weight. However, he realized that he needed to make a change and lose weight so he’s been walking the mile from work to the train station every evening and he’s been paying attention to what he eats. He goes shopping every week and picks out healthy foods for his lunch. He packs his lunch every day and he’s been working really hard at cutting out soda. I don’t know if he’s actually lost weight yet, but he is looking better and has more energy.

Mom is another hero of mine. Since losing my dad last November, she’s started working hard at losing weight and getting in shape. She’s been walking two to three miles every day and she’s lost about 40 lbs in eight months without doing a lot of dieting. This is especially inspiring because my mom has been heavy my entire life and she’s tried everything from hypnosis to stomach stapling to lose weight. I was out at her place last weekend and she showed me some of the hills she walks up and down and I was amazed that she was able to walk as far as she does. She told me that she’s making it a priority because now she doesn’t have any excuses like someone else to cook for or to take care of so she has made losing weight a priority.

Caitlin has absolutely no weight to lose because she was fortunate and inherieted her dad’s metabolism and not mine. She inspires me for a different reason because she’s taking saxaphone lessons and she practices every single day for a couple of hours. She started out sounding scratchy and out of tune, but after only a month’s worth of lessons she’s reached a point where we can understand what she’s trying to play and she’s working hard to teach herself to play by ear. I’m insipred to invest the time in what I want because I’m seeing the joy that investing in herself has brought Caitlin.

I’ve noticed that since I’ve seen the inspirational behavior of my family, that I’ve been trying hard to emulate their behavior in my own life and to quit making excuses for eating too much or not exercising. Since Sean has started reading labels and trying to make healthier food choices, I’ve found myself cooking at home more often and trying to make healthy food choices for dinner instead of stopping by the nearest fast food restaurant for dinner. I don’t yet have the stamina to walk several miles a day, but I’ve been trying to be more active and at least take short walks on a regular basis and to park farther away.

These are all small changes and none of them will change the world, but what my heroes have taught me is that it isn’t about changing the world, it is about changing yourself.

Buying Bliss

Bliss has become a product, like deodorant or shoes, for marketer’s to hawk from the nearest street corner or Website. All these products proclaim that if you purchase their products you’ll experience nirvana. A quick trip around the web revealed the following sites offering bliss for bucks.

The first site Google found was BlissWorld. Bliss World started as a real world spa and evolved into an online site selling fitness shoes, overpriced body products, and more. They say their ” passion is passing that ‘glow-how’ on to you.” Although I firmly believe that a good massage can bring you bliss, I don’t believe that a $29 bottle of body butter can bring you anymore bliss than the $5 bottle from TJ Maxx. Bliss rating 2.0 out of 5.0 as it’s hard to give a 0 to any company that offers massages.

Bliss Weddings was created by a couple who’d just gotten married to help other companies achieve “the state at which every couple works hard to achieve in their marriage. A feeling of total happiness and harmony.” The site offers a ton of advice on weddings and although it does include commercial links, the overall site is bliss inspiring and I’d give it a 4.5 on the bliss-o-meter.

If you’re traveling through Clifton, NJ you’ll be able to take a trip to the Bliss Lounge. From the pictures on the Website, it looks like an overdone nightclub with meet market tendancies. My personal experience is that bliss isn’t to be found in places like this because it’s all about keeping up appearances and impressing the opposite sex, which isn’t a recipe for bliss. 0.0 on the bliss-o-meter.

Bliss.com appears to be a real estate valuation company selling products to help appraisers valuate homes. At first blush I was going to give them a negative score because using bliss to sell real estate valuation is just crass. However, digging into the site I realized that the company is called Bliss because it was founded by George Bliss, so I’m going to have to give them a 5.0 on the bliss-o-meter because is nothing more blissful than being true to yourself.

The last blissful site I traveled to was Hershey’s Bliss and this is the most blissful site of all because even though they’re commercializing bliss, you can’t really argue with the fact that really good chocolate does elicit a blissful state and almost everyone can afford to buy their taste of bliss when it’s going for under a buck a bar. I especially love their tagline “Bliss is everywhere, you just have to unwrap it.” How can you argue with that? Bliss chocolate gets a 5.0 on the bliss o-meter.

I have to be honest and say that when I set out to write an article about buying bliss, my intention was to decry the commercialization of bliss and point out that real bliss has to come from inside, but as I explored the Web and the Blissful sites out there, I realized that maybe there were some sites and products that really could help you achieve bliss. I also realized I’d be hypocritical if I gave low marks to sites selling massages and chocolate when some of my own most blissful experiences have come from indulging in those very same products.

Writing this article was one of those weirdly blissful experiences that come from humility. I realized that my arrogant attitude that bliss couldn’t be purchased wasn’t entirely accurate. Bliss can be purchased, but like everything it has to be buyer beware because purchasing a product won’t make you entirely blissful unless you approach it with the right attitude and enjoy it in moderation. For instance, one Hershey’s Bliss can inspire a wonderful feeling, but eating 10 will give you a stomach ache and intense guilt about all the calories you just consumed.

Bliss in the Bills

Some say that money doesn’t buy happiness, but having enough money to pay my bills is one of the most blissful feelings in the world. There is a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that as a result of our efforts, we can pay for the basic necessities of life and afford a few extras. I get extra satisfaction out of being able to pay my bills on time every month because a few years ago we weren’t always able to keep the lights turned on and there were a few times when we had to borrow money from our parents for necessities.

Sometimes it’s all too easy to forget those lean years as I sit in my beautiful living room looking out at the park with my almost new car parked in the driveway. However, I know those luxuries come at a price of free time. To pay for life in Arlington Heights, my husband and I both have to work full time jobs which leave us exhausted and cranky. All too often, food comes from the closest fast food joint and not from the pantry.

The lean years weren’t all bad as I was freelancing and wasn’t working full time so I had plenty of time to volunteer at the kids’ school and spend time with them before and after school. Despite how much I hated not having money for all the extras I wanted to give them, I wouldn’t trade those years for anything in the world. I got to be there to watch my kids in school, be there when they came home from school, and I had the time to take them to the park whenever we wanted.

We always managed to make the most of the money we had and in a lot of ways life was better without a lot of cash. We spent more time together in the evenings instead of all going our own way and there was a sense that we were in it together. Meals were better too as we didn’t have money for fast food, but had to cook at home. We also managed to take our kids to Disney World during those lean years with a trip cobbled together with freebies from the Web and a little bit of savings.

However, I am pragmatic enough to realize that despite the highlights of our lean years, there was plenty of strife as we struggled to make our pennies stretch to cover our bills. There was always a sense of failure as we realized there was too much month left at the end of each paycheck. There is no glory in having your lights shut off.

As I sit and reflect on life then and now, I realize that I need to find a way to balance the bliss of more time with my family with the bliss of having my bills paid. It isn’t easy, but I’m finding my way back to bliss.

Strawberry Bliss

The best meal I ever had wasn’t in a fancy restaurant, but was strawberries and chocolate eaten as I strolled through the streets of Amsterdam. I had one magickal day in Amsterdam and I didn’t want to miss a minute of it sitting in a restaurant. I found a small grocery store and purchased some fresh strawberries. They were smaller than the berries we have at home, but they were much sweeter and I walked the streets of Amsterdam eating those incredibly flavorful berries.

A few blocks from the grocer, I found a chocolate shop and I could tell it was good because there was a queue of people (mostly women) lined up outside. Taking my place in line, I patiently waited for my turn to enter the store and take my place among the chosen few who were already inhaling chocolate nirvana. The chocolate was incredibly pricey, so I chose only a few small pieces. The chocolate was well worth the price and the wait as it melted in my mouth and perfectly complimented the blissful strawberries I’d already eaten.

The serotonin high from the chocolate and strawberries had me floating through the streets of Amsterdam (or maybe it was the buzz from the coffee shops) for the rest of the day. The Amsterdam Flea Market was a treasure trove of art, antiques, crystals, and more. I found a beautiful print of Cafe Terrace at Night by Van Gogh and another watercolor by an obscure recent artist. Both now happily adorn my walls to always remind me of that blissful day.

More bliss was to be had in the Amsterdam Flower Market where I wandered the fragrant streets sniffing the tulips, the orchids, and a host of other flowers. It is absolutely impossible to feel sad, angry, or uptight when you’re surrounded by so many sights and scents.

I haven’t been able to recreate the strawberry bliss I felt in Holland at home, but I did recently discover Devonshire cream and mixing that buttery thick cream in with fresh strawberries and sugar is a blissful treat in its own right.

Pen full of Bliss

My passion for writing inspires me, enthralls me, enlightens me, and eases my burden, but when I go to put words on paper about my passion, I find myself blocked and I can’t explain what it is about putting pen to ink that so inspires me. Writing defines the essence of who I am and it is through my writing that the real me finds her voice. Tom Hanks had a line in the awe inspiring movie Philadelphia where he said, “I love the law.” Writing is just that basic for me: “I love the language.” I love the way words feel when they dance off my fingers and onto the keyboard. I love finding just the right word to express what I’m feeling. I love it when my words right an injustice, touch someone’s heart, or just make someone stop and ponder another point of view.

Writing lets me think on paper and playing with words helps me clarify my thoughts. I write technical documents, emails, and manuals at work and some people would find that tedious and dull, but I even enjoy playing with words and finding just the right word to describe an SAP transaction. Some people would say that is a sickness, but I view it as a love affair with the English language.

Screenplays, novels, letters to the editor, self help books, journals, blogs, and essays. I’ve written them all and they’ve all changed my world in some way. Screenplays I write with the hopes of being sold, but despite never selling one of the three I’ve written, I still love writing them because they let me bring an entire universe to life in 120 pages. You notice I say bring a universe to life and not create a universe. That’s because sometimes when I get into the flow of writing, it feels like I’m just describing events that I’m seeing on a screen in my head. The characters end up having lives of their own. The interesting thing about my scripts is that I’ve learned something about myself from every character I’ve written. From Jennifer I’ve learned to tap my inner strength; from Mo I learned that I’m capable of more than I give myself credit for; and from Clare, my newest heroine, I’m learning that I’m capable of forgiveness and letting things go.

I wrote my one and only novel to help me dig through some deep seated fears and resentments. What I found was that novels weren’t my cup of tea; there were too many pages to fill up, and too many words to write. I didn’t like having to write transitions and having to come up with a zillion ways to say “said.” I don’t have that issue with screenplays as I just put a name and what they’re saying and that’s that.

Letters to the editor are calls to action; they are my way of telling the world about injustice and tyranny. They always say the pen is mightier than the sword and when I pick up a pen, I feel Thomas Paine and Thomas Jefferson standing over my shoulder extolling the virtues of striking a blow against tyranny through the written word. Not that I think showing inappropriate TV shows or rude people at high school graduations are as important as Revolution, but I feel a sense of patriotism when I exercise my right to question the world around me.

The Portable Coach was written at a time when I needed to reinvent myself. I’ve always figured out that I learn best by doing and explaining, and that’s what writing The Portable Coach allowed me to do. I was able to internalize the processes that I needed to go through to change my life by writing about them and explaining them so that other people could learn how to changes their lives.

Journals are my most personal of writings and I have a stack of them in my grandmother’s wardrobe that detail the journey I’ve taken from girl to woman. Some of them are excruciatingly boring and whiny as I detail all the petty injustices that filled my world at the time they were written and others show insights into myself that I’d forgotten. I never edit my journals and they are always about the free flow of words onto the page. In some ways, my journals serve as my very own therapist and at $2 bucks for a notebook, they’re a little cheaper than therapy.

Essays and blogs go together in my world as my blog really is a series of essays about things that matter to me. Blogs let me tell my story and the lessons I’ve learned from loving it. My blog helps me sort through my feelings and gain the kernels of truth that are inside each experience I have. I’ve learned since I’ve been blogging that when I keep my focus on finding bliss and balance in all experiences, I do. When I don’t focus on it, it is too easy to become unbalanced and focus on the negatives instead of the bliss that surrounds us every day, if only we go looking for it.

Unlike my journals, my blog is meant to be read and shared and it’s disheartening when days go by without any new clicks showing up. But then when I don’t check the stats for a few days, sometimes I’ll find that quite a few people read my blog and that is bliss indeed.

Balance Between the Worlds

Beaches are among the most magickal places on earth as they serve as an ever changing boundary between the world of water and the world of earth. I’ve always loved standing on the beach and letting my feet be licked by the water: sometimes the water just kisses my toes and a few waves later it splashes my knees. It’s a magickal place that’s not quite earth and not quite water.
We went to Illinois Beach State Park today for Caitlin’s birthday and the beach was wild and deserted: a place of beauty and mystery. We walked over the dunes to where giant glacers had moved the earth herself to create rock creations. The earth isn’t done changing though as these rock creations are now being licked smooth by the waters of Lake Michigan. The rocks are uneven and create crevices where water pools as the tide washes in and out.
Caitlin ran and danced with the waves running into the shallow waves, then stepping back as the waves came higher and higher. She laughed and played and I grew nervous as she walked deeper into the water and started to call her back, but then she pulled herself back and sat on the damp sand in the land between the earth and water. She crossed her legs, stilled herself and became the picture of calm as she stared out at the boats on the water.
Feeling uneasy about her being so close to the water, I wouldn’t let myself relax until my husband came over and perched on the pier above both of us, sitting like a silent sentinal. I knew that once he was there I could relax as he would watch out for both of us. I found myself a niche in the water smoothed rocks where I could dangle my feet in the water and I let myself feel the waves kiss my toes and the sun kiss the back of my neck and I let the tension flow out of my body and be watched away by the waves.
Looking out at the lake, I could see the sun reflecting off the blue water and colorful sailboats skimming across the waves. Life felt uncomplicated as if all that mattered where the elements of sun, surf, and sand. The deep sense of calm I felt driving home is something I will strive to recapture on days when life seems hectic, rushed, and way too complicated.

Bliss Tea

My love affair with tea began in China. Before I ventured to the land where tea was born, I thought of tea as a weak drink for old ladies, but China changed that and I realized that tea was a vestige of civility and calm. The first weekend I was in Suzhou, we wandered downtown and into a little tea shop that was filled with clear canisters of all sorts of tea. I still wasn’t sure I’d enjoy “real” tea so I hedged my bets and bought rose petal tea which when brewed was amazing. The sweet scent of roses reminded me of a beautiful spring day and the delicate taste wasn’t the weak and wimpy tea from teabags I remembered from my youth, but a taste of summer that made me want more.
Wandering the streets of Suzhou, I happened upon a store selling beautiful pottery tea pots and I bought a tea pot with a dragon head to remind me of the beautiful time I spent in Suzhou. Another store had a tea pot with a dragon swirling around it and it to had to come home with me.
One of my last nights in Suzhou, we were wandering downtown and I spied this beautiful delicate porcelain tea set that I knew I had to have. It was a beautiful and delicate blue with green swirls and a beautiful golden dragon swirled around it’s base. I had seem a similar one in purple that had been out of my price range so it was with bated breath that I asked the price of the blue tea set. The lady wouldn’t bargain with us at first and asked us instead to sit down and have a cup of tea with her and her family. She made us Chinese flower tea with a jasmine blossom that bloomed when hot water was poured over it. That was the moment I fell in love with tea as I realized the beauty and majesty that could surround it. That was the most delightful cup of tea I ever enjoyed as I sat at that little shop in Suzhou and drank tea with strangers and friends. I did end up buying the beautiful tea set and after the gracious hospitality, I didn’t have the heart to bargain much.
Amsterdam also taught me about tea as I found this beautiful little shop selling all sorts of herbal teas and tea accessories. I bought the most magickal tea in this little shop a blend of apples and rose hips that was pure magic to drink. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find anything similar in the states so until I make it back to Amsterdam, I won’t be able to enjoy that blissful tea again.
My current favorite tea is Caribbean Breeze by Teavana. It is a blend of strawberry and raspberry pieces with bits of kiwi passion fruit and citrus peel thrown in for good measure. This morning, I brewed a cup of Caribbean Breeze in my Chinese tea pot and sat outside enjoying the warm weather and the breeze. It was very blissful to sit under my magnolia tree, Maggie, and listen to the sounds of summer. I heard the birds chirping, the kids playing ball across the street, and someone mowing the yard a few houses down. The warm sun was tempered by a slight breeze and I felt like in this moment in time, I truly knew bliss.

Working for Bliss

Sometimes bliss and balance come about naturally and other times you have to work really hard to bring them into your life. Today was one of the days when nothing seemed to go right and I spent the day in a perpetual state of stress. It started off this morning when my husband and I continued the sniping that we started last night. I’m still not exactly sure what started the sniping. His viewpoint, of course, is that I started it by nagging and I’m absolutely convinced that he started it by being rude and condescending. As with most things, the truth is somewhere in the middle.

Our daughter got up grouchy because she was out too late last night at prom and because she said that her father and I woke her up with our arguing. Then Sean got up and had the same complaint. Interesting, because we hadn’t really been fighting, there’d just been a few sharp words exchanged. We went out for breakfast and life calmed down for a few minutes, except when the kids had to tell me I was being bitchy because I reminded the waiter he’d forgotten my pancakes. Apparently, asking for something the waiter forgot is now rude and condescending. Go figure.

After breakfast, my plan was to run some errands that had gotten neglected during the week. The first stop was downtown Arlington Heights where I needed to pick up a handbag I’d left the previous week and my daughter had to pick up her new glasses. I parked so I could go get my bag and she could get her glasses. No sooner than I’d started walking down the street then my phone rang and it was my daughter berating me because the optometrist was closed and if I’d have called ahead we could have been there on time, blah, blah, blah. Never mind that she is 17, they are her glasses, and she is quite capable of dialing a phone to find out their hours. It was all Mom’s fault, just like world hunger and the last war that broke out.

The next step was the garage to get a new front tire. We headed up to Mt. Prospect with my Blues in the CD player and me looking forward to a chance to relax and listen to music that I really love. Fat chance of that. As soon as she got into the car, daughter dearest plugged her iPod in and started cranking out depressing and stressful rap. I reminded her that she was just along for the ride and that I really wanted to listen to my music. She gave me an earful about how boring my music was and how it gave her a headache. So we decided that we’d make the trip with no music.

When we got to the garage, I walked in and asked them to put the cheapest tire they had on the car. The bill was going to be $80. Not a big deal for an unexpected expense. My daughter and I walked over to the bookstore to wait and we spent time just chilling, browsing, and then reading the books we’d decided to indulge in since the car wasn’t as expensive as I thought it was going to be. We walked back over to get the car and the mechanic told us that we really needed to get another of our tires replaced as the steel thread was showing and it was dangerous to drive on. Looking at the tire, I couldn’t help to agree so I signed up to buy another tire. It pushed the bill to $180 (I’m not sure how 2 times $80 became $180, but apparently they also charged me for rotating and inspecting my tires. Not a lot I could about it after the new tires were already on the car.

We left the garage to drive up to Grayslake to get a Rat Zapper, which we’d heard was one of the most effective mice eradication tools available. After an hour on the road in rain and heavy traffic, we pulled into the address that was listed on the Website and found the store had closed several months ago. Okay, so it was time for plan B. There was one other store in the area that carried rat zappers, so we headed over to Lake Forest. We got there in time to find that they’d sold the last two rat zappers that morning. I gave him my name and he said he’d call me when they got more in.

On the way home, my daughter began complaining about the fact that her pupils were two different sizes and this was obviously a sign of a brain tumor. For those of you who don’t know my darling daughter, despite the fact that she’s very active in debate, the newspaper, and she walks to and from work most days, she is a very sickly child who comes down with a new disease every week, usually after spending an afternoon surfing WebMd. No matter what her symptoms, she always has the most dire disease known to man. Of course, when we take her to the doctor she is either fine or can’t describe her symptoms. Her whining was the last straw and I snapped at her and reminder her that we’d run up thousands of dollars in medical bills over the last year for her without the doctors finding anything. Of course, then she was offended and hurt and I let like the lowest form of dirt for snapping at her. After that she was quiet and I was left to stew in my guilt over being the worst parent in the world.

The real question, of course, was whether or not I could salvage any bliss or balance from such a rotten day. The answer, of course, is that there is always bliss or at least a sense of balance to be salvaged if you’re willing to work for it. I stopped on the way home to pick up take out so that at least I didn’t have to listen to everyone asking what’s for dinner while giving me that pointed glance that tells me I’m lower than a slug for not having a four course dinner on the table.

Once the dinner problem was solved, I went outside and picked some of my big showy peonies to bring inside to brighten my desk. The look beautiful in the blue milk glass vase that game with the flowers my husband got me for Mother’s Day. That of course reminded me that he really does love me and that he does do a lot of thoughtful things for me. The next step in the quest for bliss was to cut up a granny smith apple to enjoy. I sat at my desk, bit into the tart and tangy flesh of my apple and enjoyed a sensuous burst of flavor that helped improve my mood immensely. Putting on some good blues and looking around at all my favorite things actually put a smile on my face. The photos of my kids growing up reminded me what sweet and wonderful kids they really were and that I’m fortunate to be blessed with such terrific kids. My ink drawings of Mt. Fuji reminded me how lucky I’ve been to have traveled the world. My “Rosie the Riveter” lunch box that my husband bought me in Madison, Wi made me smile as I remember that wonderful trip and how much my husband loves and supports my interests. It also reminded me that a lot of people had faced a lot darker days than the one I’ve having today and had lived to tell about it.

The final step in my transformation from blah to bliss was sitting down at the keyboard and writing. Writing always makes me feel better as it helps me clarify my thoughts and see that even my darkest days are not that dark.

Questioning Bliss

Maintaining the status quo has never appealed to me and for the most part I’ve used whatever tools I had at my disposal to make my feelings known. When I was in kindergarten, I was the kid that all the other kids hated because I always knew the answer–or at least thought I did–and was never shy about raising my hand and expressing my opinion. My teacher finally asked me to not speak up so much and to give other kids a chance. I responded by shutting down and never raising my hand and I went home and told my parents that my teacher had told me not to raise my hand in class. Needless to say, a parent teacher conference ensued and pretty soon I was back to raising my hand whenever I thought I had something to say.

In fourth grade, my teacher wanted to borrow bales of hay from my grandfather for our school show. However, I wasn’t happy with the role I was given in the show. I informed Mrs. Thompson that I’d be happy to ask my grandfather if we could borrow the hay as long as I got the part in the play that I wanted. Amazingly enough, I got what I wanted and Mrs. Thompson got her hay bales.

I lost my voice to a certain extent in high school and college as I was bullied by other kids and I’m still not sure why. Sometimes I think it was because I wasn’t afraid to be different and I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind. That’s a very threatening thing for some people because they don’t understand it.

Graduating from college was liberating as I’d landed a job as an auditor, which fit my personality of questioning authority to a T as I was getting paid to snoop around, ask questions, and question authority. However, I soon learned that I did have boundaries and that somethings were “too political” to investigate. Among these were were the thousands illegally spent to build a “crud room” (think pool without the q sticks) and Operational Readiness plans for Kadena Air Base. Being muzzled wasn’t my thing, but I backed off because there were so many other areas where I did have free rein to question authority.

Questioning authority did not always have blissful results and one memorable time I went to far. I publicly questioned the Air Force about religious programming on the Armed Forces Network and quickly found myself in hot water with the base commander. He abused his power to have armed security guards show up at my house and threaten me and my family. When I refused to be cowed and left the house, I was tackled and thrown into the back of a police car while they went after my husband and two children. However, being military police they were not the brightest of the bunch and they put me in an unlocked car. I escaped from custody and then physically assaulted the cops. I also told them to go ahead and shoot me so it would be on the front page of the Stars and Stripes.

They didn’t shoot me, but they did make arrangements to get me off their precious base as soon as physically possible and I was on a plane back to the States within two weeks. I’ve since learned that what happened to me was not an isolated case and that the military overseas often abused their power when it came to people questioning religious persecution. My husband and I both suffered post traumatic stress syndrome and for the first two years after we got home, I got physically sick to my stomach every time I saw someone in uniform. I also suffered flashbacks, never felt safe, and was constantly on edge.

You would have thought I would have learned my lesson about challenging the status quo, but it didn’t because I realized that all a civilian employer could do was fire me: there was no way they could surround my house with guns. I’ve also realized that there are a lot more subtle ways to challenge the status quo than the ones I’ve used in the past.

Challanging the status quo without fire and brimstone is a lot more challanging than being loud and proud in my outspokeness, but it’s no less satisfying.

I’m currently working at a large manufacturing company and I managed one of the few successful projects at our company last year. However, despite this success, my boss, placed me in a very minor role reporting to a consultant on our latest project. The role has no growth potential and has me doing things I did five years ago. Not exactly what I expected. I expressed my displeasure and when she refused to listen, I started looking for another job both internally and externally. I’m very close to being given another position in the company and it’s because I believe enough in myself to challenge the status quo and refuse to accept subpar assignments.

The situation has also made me realize that there are people I really like and respect who are all too willing to accept the status quo and not stick up for themselves. They believe that just because someone is the boss, they should be the absolute authority. I truly don’t believe that and I don’t believe that good bosses want their employees to be “yes men.” Good bosses want people who can drive change and are leaders and good leaders question authority.

Much to my husband’s chagrin and sometimes mine, I’ve instilled in our children the belief that respect has to be earned and that challenging tyranny is important at all levels. That belief has led to some interesting battles with my children’s school, but in the end we prevailed.

Questioning authority doesn’t always feel so blissful because sometimes you end up in unpleasant situations, but at the end of the day I’m the one that has to face myself in the mirror and I won’t be able to look myself in the face if I don’t stand up for myself and for what I believe is right and at the end that’s a deeply satisfying kind of bliss.

Walking on the Wild Side: Balance in Holland

Holland is truly a land of balance: there are beautiful cathedrals and centuries old waterways, but there is also a seamier side of life that everyone takes very much in stride. I had three days to explore Holland and I was determined to make the most of it. I arrived from Germany on a Thursday night and spent Friday working with my peers at our distribution center in Utrecht.

After work, I grabbed a cab and headed downtown Utrecht to wander around and soak up the culture. One of the most fascinating things I learned was that Hollanders bike everywhere. I saw more bikes that trip than I did cars. I had the taxi driver let me off downtown and I started wandering the streets and exploring the little shops. As I was walking I smelled pot and looked around in amazement that someone would be so blatant as to have weed on the main drag of Utrecht. Then I spied the “coffee shop” and remembered I was in a land where pot was legal.
I wandered down one side street and as I glanced in one of the windows, I was uncomfortable seeing a woman lounging in her underwear watching TV in front of an open window. After walking by, I looked back down the street and saw the red light above the window and realized that Amsterdam wasn’t the only town with a red light district. I enjoyed dinner that night in a little cafe along a canal and it was incredibly peaceful to sit and enjoy the scenery.
The next day my day started early when I took a train from Utrecht into Amsterdam. Arriving in downtown Amsterdam, I soon found the tourist district and wandered through streets full of stores selling all the latest in souvenirs from wooden shoes to ties emblazoned with windmills. I have to admit that I did give into temptation and bought my share of tourist trinkets. Wandering a little farther I started to feel a little high and as I sniffed I realized that the air was full of the distinctive scent of weed.
All around me were American tourists going gaga over illicit drugs being freely sold.
Wandering a little farther I came to Amsterdam’s famed red light district and rather than being titillated, I was saddened at the site of beautiful young women selling themselves in store front windows like puppies on display at the pound. Some women danced energetically trying to attract attention and others were lethargic with deadened eyes that shown they’d given up on their quest for “love” and had resigned themselves to whatever the world had to dish out. One of the strangest parts of the red light district was a courtyard surrounding a church. Ringing this ancient–but still active–holy place were windows full of young women displaying their wares.
Leaving the red light district, I caught a water taxi and toured Amsterdam’s ancient canals. Our tour guide explained that many of Amsterdam’s houses leaned because they were sunk on wooden pilings into the soft earth and if they were not sunk deep enough the houses would lean. We wove through narrow canals lined by beautiful turreted buildings that evoked a sense of wonder from this American girl. We floated past Anne Frank’s house and I was amazed and heartened that the lines to see where her brave family had lived during the Nazi occupation stretched for blocks.
All too soon my day in the wonderland of Amsterdam came to a close and it was time to fly back to the States. Amsterdam is definitely a place of contrasts and the balance seems to work well for them, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable in a country where ancient works of art share space with women degrading themselves in store windows.