Staying Conscious

Staying Grounded in a Big City or Busy World

1. Live simply and live deliberately. By choosing not to get caught up in the details of this fast-paced world, you are doing your part to slow down the . You will also discover that you have more time to enjoy being alive.

2. Stay in touch with yourself. Soul searching, meditation, and journaling are just a few of the many activities you can take part in to stay aware and learn as much as you can about your emotions, reactions, likes, dislikes, dreams, and fears. Having a solid sense of self gives you a firm foundation for living in this world.

3. Support or teach others as often as you can. This can help you form connections with people while also giving you an opportunity to make the world a better place.

4. Consciously choose what you will allow into your being. The media bombards us with visions of hate, war, and pain. Be judicious about what you read, watch, and listen to.

5. Acknowledge the beauty that resides around you. Whether you live in a sprawling metropolis or a stereotypical suburb, there are natural and man-made wonders just waiting to be discovered by you.

6. Nurture your ties to your tribe. If you don’t have one, create a community that you can belong to. Modern life can be isolating. When you have a tribe, you have a circle that you are a part of. Its members – loved ones, friends, or neighbors – can be a source of support, caring, guidance, and companionship.

7. See the larger picture. Remember that the way that you choose to live is not the only way to live. Widen your perspective by exploring other modes of being through research, travel, and discussion.

8. Embrace the challenges that life presents to you, and challenge yourself often. After a time, even the most exciting jobs or lifestyles can seem routine. Never stop assimilating new knowledge about whatever you are doing, and your life will never seem dull.

9. Move your body. In this busy world, it can be easy to live a sedentary life. Movement reacquaints us with our bodies and connects us to the earth in a visceral way. It also restores our vitality.

10. Make time for stillness, silence, and solitude. The world can be noisy, and we are subject to all kinds of noises nearly every waking hour. We are also often “on the go” and unable to relax. Being alone in a peaceful place and making time for quiet can help you stay in touch with yourself.

Since July 2004 I have made numerous trips to the lockers, sometimes to get things, sometimes to search for things, sometimes to add more the already cramped contents.  It was easy, especially with an automatic payment setup, to forget about the lockers for months at a time.  At least once a year, however, the monthly rent was raised, and, over time, the lockers became burden; a mental and financial weight.

One of the goals Sibylle and I had for our move to Manhattan was to eliminate the lockers.  Living in the same town with them was one thing, maintaining them from 125 miles away was another thing entirely.  Plus we could use the savings every month by not having to pay their rent.  

My sense was that many of the items buried in the boxes were no longer meaningful to me and could be donated.  We did clear a lot of old clothes, board games, and three CRT monitors, among other things, to donate.  After just a couple of trips to the locker we managed to empty nearly half of it, and it felt like actually getting all of the stuff out ourselves would be possible.

Friday evening we rented a U-Haul truck and emptied both lockers.  Emptied.  Completely.  The sense of weight was gone

Today (or tomorrow, weather depending) we will transport those items, and a good portion of the boxes we’ve packed at home, to the house we are renting in Manhattan.  Initially the things we’ve kept from the locker will be stored in the garage.  However, the goal is to unpack everything and either find it a home inside the house, or get rid of it through selling, throwing it away, or donations.  Emptying the lockers makes our move with Allied next week less complicated.  We will save weight charges on the move, as well as charges for an extra pickup point, and distance/elevator charges at the locker facility.  That we are also able to move some things from the town house ourselves is an added bonus.  Not bad for a couple hundred dollar U-Haul rental fee and some sweat equity.

In addition, we’ll save $180 a month on locker rental fees.

Best of all, the weight of the locker is gone now.  Stuff that I’ve been mentally dragging around for over four years is now being dealt with.  This is good.  It feels wonderful.

Amy was a straight-A student, she was also extremely willful and often at odds with my mother.  She loved horses and the outdoors, but also reading and playing games.  Would she, today, be someone I liked, or would have drifted apart like my brother and I?  I believe my family would have been profoundly different had she not gotten cancer and died.  But then I would have been different as well.  I would not be the man I am today.

Life is an equation, a calculus of all that we see and do and are, with results that are sometimes hidden or obscured from our view.  Change one part of the equation and unexpected results abound.  Change another part with no apparent effect.  I don’t have answers, only questions.  I can’t ever know who she would have been.  I only know who she was, and who she is in my memories.

Happy birthday Amy.

Sometime this week, or early next I will be presented with one or more opportunities to accept a new position.  The choices as they stand today are, in no particular order:

* Software Engineer doing COBOL/JCL/DB2 development work
* WebSphere Administrator in a production support role
* Sr. Project Leader for a business unit (i.e., non-technical)
* Project Leader/Supervisor for a large established product

Like shopping for a new car, each of these seems like a good idea in isolation.  Fresh from the test drive of an interview, I’ve been satisfied that I could do the job, that I would like the job, and that I wanted the job.

With the passage of time, or another interview, doubts begin to creep in to my thoughts.  That job would have me working in a completely brand new area, technology would change.  I’d be in a different building. Adding to the doubt process is the selection process.

Any offers that these interviews generate will come to me on a first come, first served basis.  And I have to say yes or no, not knowing if there are others waiting in the wings.

Like a gambler who sits down at the table knowing exactly how much he can wager, and under what conditions he will withdraw from play, I need to have some yardstick, some set of parameters that will allow me to navigate the choices ahead of me.  And, like a cautious gambler, I need the resolve to stick to my parameters in the heat of the moment.

I’ve ordered the positions from choicest to least desired in my mind.  The ranking was a combination of emotional and intellectual, subjective and objective, factors.  But what I haven’t yet come to terms with is the tremendous roll of the dice, should I chose to pass on the first offer made if it is lower in my preferred ordering.

My preferred outcome is that choice number 1 makes the first offer, and that the compensation is within my range.  Then the decision is easy.  There really aren’t any clearly defined 2nd or 3rd choices as there are too many variables, variables well beyond my ability to control, to list all the combinations.

If my 2nd choice makes the first offer and their compensation is within my range, I think it’s a go.  If the compensation is outside of my range, then I don’t know.  What if no other offers are made?  If I say no, then I have well and truly let go of the bird in the hand for one in the bush – one that got away.  What if my least favorite option makes an offer that is in the right compensation range?  Even the least desirable position is better than unemployment.

Try as I might, I don’t think there is a strategy that leads me through this process without an element of emotional uncertainty.  Each choice has merit, each has some risk, and each has a potential downside.  In his book Blink, Malcolm Gladwell talks at length about the power of making a decision in an instant, relying on instinct and your subconscious, over spending lots of time weighing your options.  I think sometimes the best decisions are made with a combination of weighing and instinct.  By weighing my options I’ve given my subconscious the data it needs to decide.  Now I just need an offer to trigger that instantaneous yes or no reaction.

May 27

Throughout the day, Sibylle noticed that Nekko was behaving a bit oddly.  As her symptoms became more pronounced, Sibylle took Nekko to the vet.  Nekko had experienced hypoglycemia, or insulin shock.  There was too much insulin in her bloodstream and not enough sugar.  Thanks to Sibylle’s actions, the doctor was able to start a dextrose IV and reverse the effects.  Three hours after dropping her off we were able to bring Nekko home.  Within a day she was back to her old self.  We reduced her insulin dosage from 4 units to 3, every twelve hours, and scheduled a blood glucose curve, to occur in two weeks time.

June 3

Another Tuesday, and nearly a second hypoglycemic event.  Having seen the warning signs just a week prior, Sibylle recognized them when they started again, and we were able to head it off with syrup and some canned food.  This was the day we bought a home testing kit, and started monitoring Nekko blood sugar ourselves.  From all the data that we gathered, it appeared as if Nekko had entered some kind of remission.  Apparently 20% of all diabetic cats experience this kind of change in the disease.  With her body producing insulin once again, the injected insulin was driving her blood sugar dangerously low.  Expect for one high BG reading (385+), when we administered a single unit, we halted her insulin.  Her appetite was good, her energy level was good, and her BG hovered around 200 unaided.

June 6-7

On Friday we started to notice a bit of lethargy in Nekko, and a lack of interest in eating.  She still showed interest in food, and would nibble, but she wasn’t eating. She may have stopped drinking water as much then too.  Friday evening we were concerned, but not overly so.  When, Saturday morning came and she still showed no interest in eating, we decided to get some new food.  Our vet had told us about a boutique pet store that had a good selection of natural foods.  On our way there we missed being in an accident only by virtue of being the second car in line, and not the first.  We stopped and assisted as much as we could until the emergency responders were there, and then hung around until the police said they didn’t need us any more.  On top of our already strained emotions and physical tiredness, the adrenaline surge and subsequent crash, really wiped us out.  Being out in the high winds and noon-time heat of a Kansas summer day didn’t help either.

My father and his companion were on their way to spend the weekend visiting with us.  We were talking about sites to see or places to visit in addition to trying to figure out what to do about Nekko.  After dinner out we returned home to find Nekko almost unresponsive; she was now refusing food and only lapping at water, not really drinking.  We finally took her to the emergency hospital around 12:30 am, after she had vomited a sticky, greenish mucus.

The animal hospital, where she had been diagnosed diabetic twenty months earlier, did the usual intake steps, including measuring Nekko’s vital signs.  Her temperature was down several degrees, and the doctor indicated she had moderate level ketones, an indication that her blood glucose level was out of whack.  Indeed, it was 500, where only a day earlier it had been 200.  After waiting while they injected some subcutaneous fluids to help re-hydrate her, we took Nekko home.  

June 8

Throughout the remainder of Sunday we tried to keep her warm, and comfortable.  Sunday evening we called our vet, who graciously met us at his office, and he again injected subcutaneous fluids to help her.  He felt that she would be fine overnight, and we arranged to bring her back in the morning so that he and his nurses could try to stabilize her condition.  Overnight there would have been no one at his clinic to monitor her.

After making her comfortable at home, with dryer warmed towels and rice, inside pillow cases, warmed in the microwave, we went to see G. and R. at their motel room.  They had been very gracious and understanding about our need to stay with Nekko, and had entertained themselves during the day.  It was good to see them, even under the circumstances.

We returned home to tend to Nekko.  Giving her liquid food, and water, seemed to be working.  Her blood sugar was reacting positively to the insulin, and we had warmed the bathroom, where we were keeping her, to nearly 82 degrees.  At midnight we injected more fluids subcutaneously, following the doctors directions.  

June 9

Around 2:45 am she threw up, losing most if not all, of the food we’d given her via syringe.  Her breathing was labored, almost panting afterwards.  All we could do was keep her warm and stay close by.  An hour later, at 3:45 am she died.  

When she had been originally diagnosed in September 2006, the doctor said that in addition to diabetes, she had cardiomyopathy, or an enlarged heart.  I think that over the nearly two years of her diabetes, her heart steadily got worse, and that the hormonal roller-coaster she had been on for the last couple of weeks was more than it could survive.  Had she been at either the vets’ office or the emergency hospital we would have been unable to be with her at the end.

We stumbled around for a hour or so, until exhaustion caught up with us, and crawled into bed with the alarm set for 7:00 am.  Sibylle had an ultrasound appointment at 8:30, and we needed to be up in time.  Following the procedure at the hospital we looked at a couple of options and decided to take Nekko to Rolling Acres, just north of Kansas City, on the Missouri side of the river.  We had her cremated there.

After lunch at a Panera Bread we find comfortable and welcoming, we headed off to a second doctor’s appointment.  The scheduling for this appointment had been botched by the clinic, and we ended up waiting nearly two hours before finally seeing the doctor.  He was brusque, and ultimately unhelpful.  When doctor’s say, “I don’t want to minimize what you’re feeling…,” then that is exactly what they are doing.

Finally back at home we collapsed into bed for a much needed three-hour nap.

June 11-12

Wednesday evening a EF4 tornado demolished Chapman Kansas, and then cut a path of destruction across southwest side of Manhattan, and the Kansas State University campus. One of Sibylle’s former students lost his home, and several others had theirs damaged in the storm.  All day Thursday, Sibylle, kept hearing more about the situation in Manhattan, and the status of her loved ones.  Fortunately no one was serious hurt, and the town and nearby Fort Riley military reservation are turning out in droves to help.

In the midst of this week, Sibylle interviewed and accepted a new family of students, bringing her Olathe studio to eight.  Next week the ninth student will start.  Our kitchen floor was replaced; the new one, laid only a few weeks ago, was torn badly when the construction crew slid the refrigerator into place.  The replacement was scheduled to happen Tuesday morning, but was postponed until midday Wednesday when the contractors truck broke down.

June 14

Today we are taking it easy.  Except for a birthday party later this evening, we have no plans or ambitions.  We started to put the kitchen back together following Wednesday’s laying of the floor.  We are also preparing to rearrange the piano room a bit, to make room for a new bookcase.

Hopefully the roller-coaster ride is over for now; we need time to catch our breath, sleep, and just be for a while.

The group I joined in January 2007 no longer exists.  The project we were slated to drive forward architecturally no longer exists.  The manager, and my three peers, have all moved on to other opportunities.  Since December I have been in a bit of a holding pattern, waiting for various reorganizations to be announced, so that I can make a decision between two divergent options.

I’ve continued to work in the architecture role on a new project while waiting to learn more about a potential new position, in a new group being formed as a result of the latest reorganization.  Now that the group is public knowledge I can talk with its manager to determine if I have a role there and, moreover, if I want that role.  The other alternative I’ve been weighing was described to me as “lead developer.”  This position would have design responsibilities for a project as well as development responsibilities – picking up the requirements from business analysis and driving them through design, construction, and implementation.

What I didn’t realize until this morning, was that my current role, that of architect, is going away.  I don’t have the option of passing on both opportunities.  (Well, I suppose I have the option to leave the company entirely.)  In the consulting world you spend a fair amount of time worrying about the contract; will it be renewed, what contract will follow this one?  Today I rediscovered the anxiety of changing jobs within your employment.  Today I’m an architect, tomorrow I’m a senior software engineer; today I’m a project leader, tomorrow I’m chief assistant to the assistant chief.

The emotions are roughly the same – anxiety, fear, uncertainty – for both.  Losing ones contract (expectedly or unexpectedly) casts you adrift.  Realizing that your career has come to a fork in the road (whether by your design or not) also casts you adrift.  As a consultant I was cast adrift several times, often resulting in cross-country moves.  As an employee in the 1980s and 1990s, I had various career changes within the same employment, that cast me adrift within the company.

My initial reaction this morning, upon realizing that staying in my current role wasn’t an option, was to feel cut adrift again.  However, after reflecting for a while, I realized that in the past when I “had” to change roles within a company it always was good for me, and for my career.  I’m adrift, but it is known waters, in sight of the shore.  There is still some anxiety about which part of the shoreline to approach, but either will ultimately be good.

My character is such that I never shirked my role in our lives. I provided care when care was called for, and emotional support when physical care could no longer make a difference. I discovered within me a tremendous ability to accept and to overcome. Before I start to sound self-serving or aggrandizing let me also say that more than once I wished the situation would be over. Hopefully in a manner that allowed us to have peace and comfort in our lives, but over.

As hard as this is to admit, especially here where all can see it, I am relieved to no longer have to suffer the burden of her demons. Once I emerged from the fog of immediate grief last winter and earlier this spring, I was shocked to discover a vein of relief within my emotions. At first I assumed that I was relieved for her, that she was no longer suffering her physical ailments and emotional scars. Certainly I am grateful that she is no longer in pain. However, I have come to realize that some portion of my relief is for myself. Selfish and small as that may sound, I am relieved that I am no longer under the strain of her condition.

A very good friend of mine, who also knew Michele for many years, helped me to see this today. Helped me to say it out loud, adding to its gravitas. I know in my heart that I gave all of myself to our relationship, that I was committed and involved, that there was nothing more I, or anyone else, could have done. Yet I still feel guilt at recognizing my sense of relief. I have often tried to look at what she did in killing her self as setting me free. I believe, more strongly now than ever, that in her mind she was paving the way for me to live without burdens, real or imagined, that she brought with her.

Recently I have started a new journey in my life. As the door to my past slowly swings closed, I am turning more towards the future, and its open doorways. Acknowledging all my feelings about Michele, our relationship, her death, and my life now, is the only way I know to be. I am moving forward with my life, not because she would have wanted me to, because I need to – because I must.

Our relationship began quietly and unobserved by many around us. Having a marriage ceremony was our way of saying to the world who we were, and who we wanted to become. Ceremony is important in life, it adds import and focuses all of your being on the momentous undertaking you are accepting. Michele’s life ended and I had another ceremony, also public, to honor her and to share a small part of the woman I knew with the people in our lives. Since that time I have shared some parts of my process here, and others in conversations with friends.

The name of this site, zanshin is a martial arts term that translates to “remaining mind.” The parable that explains it best relates the story of two monks who are forbidden to touch women. Coming to a river crossing where a woman is stranded, the older monk carries her across and sets her down. Later the younger monk asks how he could break his vow and touch a woman, how he could carry her. The older monk replies, “I set her down at the river’s edge, you are still carrying her.” Today I feel as if I have reached a milestone; I have managed to set part of my burden down at the river’s edge.

Until yesterday if you called my home phone you were greeted with the message Michele and I put together just over two years ago. I managed to make a recording of it over the winter using some VoIP software as it is the only (known to me) recording of her voice. But I’ve delayed changing the message as it was one more tangible reminder that she is truly gone.

I’ve also started to think about the artifacts she left behind. I want to keep them all but I understand that moving forward means letting go of the past. For some time now I have been waiting for life to resume again thinking that I’d let go when that time came. Now I realize that only by letting go will I get the resumption I desire.

It will be a true test of my maturity to collect and pass on the things that Michele left behind that will only hold me back. I’m a pack rat of the worst sort; keeping mementos from twenty years ago in boxes that just get moved from place to place. I learned that by letting go of my anger and quilt about my sister’s death that I could be happy and free. Now I need to learn that the part of Michele that is truly important – her love, her spirit, and her truth – will always live inside of me. Pictures, dresses, cards, and bits of jewelry may trigger fond memories, but they aren’t truly necessary to keep her alive inside of me.

I want to get or make a small chest, and fill it with a few things that I can’t part with just yet. Some things I’ll put into a safe deposit box at the bank. And the rest, well, the rest I’ll try and let go.

My love for her will last until I die, and being blessed with a good memory, my memories will last until then as well. But my relationship with her has ended, at least on the physical plane, and I need to release myself from the physical trappings of that relationship.

Over the years I have learned that there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. I really don’t mind being alone; as an introvert I have a rather complicated internal dialog that requires a fair amount of tending on a daily basis. The amount of time necessary to keep an even keel varies from day to day, but an hour or two of alone time isn’t an imposition. Being lonely, on the other hand, is far tougher to deal with and causes me a great deal of pain at times.

I realize that I am the only person who can determine my future and whether it is a lonely one or one filled with people. For instance, yesterday I choose to attend a party for a friend’s twenty-fifth work anniversary with the same company, and had a wonderful time. I was able to overcome my natural inclination to be introverted (i.e., stay home and watch television) and participate. Of course, being in a group of people who are all made up of couples, really accentuated my feelings of loneliness, and woke up the green monster.

Perhaps the hardest part of all of this was the realization afterwards that while I was envious of each and everyone of them, I strongly suspect none of them were envious of me. I am not ready yet to talk about seeking out a new relationship but I am aware that I am headed in that direction. Michele was always aware when I had some difficult emotional issue to discuss and she was lovingly relentless about getting me to uncover it through talking. Truth be told, I was always aware of the signs too. They are present again, cloaked in envy, and I need to expose them in order to move forward. I just need to find a way to reconcile the feeling that I am betraying Michele to even think about having another relationship.

As in the weeks immediately following Michele’s death last October, I am discovering that it is the little things that set me off. The distance between calm and collected and gibbering maniac is almost non existent. My rampaging emotions are starting to effect my cats; both are skittishness and poor Nekko has taken to throwing up her food. I think the time for intervention is here. I can no longer put off the need for one-on-one counseling.

The suicide survivors group is good and I feel that I am getting something important out of it. However, it only meets once a month, and I don’t always get to expose my stuff there. (Particularly the last two times as there has been a very self-centered and verbally energetic woman who has monopolized the time for herself.) Paying someone to focus on me for an hour or two each month maybe the way to proceed.

After this coming weekend, time will be under my control again. I won’t (for a little while anyway) feel like I need to travel to Illinois every couple of weeks. I realize that I have been tense for most of the last seven months; and further that this unending tension has made me brittle and prone to breakdowns and outbursts (Sounds like the name of a new country album.). I just need to find a constructive outlet for my anger, depression, anxiety, fear, sorrow, madness, apathy, loneliness, and ennui.