I’m noticing it everywhere. In the people in my office. In business associates. Clients. Early morning television hosts. The neighbors.
The shock has worn off and reality has set in: we’re in a new place now.
At first, some of us were in near-panic mode. Utter shock and disbelief at what had happened to our economy. And then that of other countries. Incredulous at the collapse of Bear Stearns and then of Lehman, the news of corporations running into problems and banks asking for money, we now roll monikers like TARP off our tongues as easily as we blab iPod or Blackberry (it hasn’t been that many years since these two came off the shelves y’know); and understand how derivatives and credit default swaps work almost as much as we understand the way furnaces heat our homes or oil lubricates our engines. Bernie Madoff? A household name. Ditto for John Thain, Ken Lewis and Jeffrey Immelt.
Incredible.
So this is our new normal. And parts of it are absolutely wonderful (OK. Not the Madoff part. But he’s in jail now.)
I believe it is wonderful that people are taking more responsibility for their personal finances. That they are questioning the way their money is being handled. That they are starting to understand what they own and why they own it.
I believe it is wonderful that the age of selfish indulgence is at least temporarily suspended. A fun story on NPR this morning charted the lessons a young gal is learning about coping through these new times. And she was lamenting that she has given up her daily five-word-long, brewed-in, several-dollars-at-a-pop Starbucks for a generic brand that she makes herself at home. Poor thing. I mean seriously. What have we come to? My own almost-eighty-year-old mother has never enjoyed a cup of Starbucks on her own nickel. And didn’t know what to do with the corrugated cardboard sleeve when I handed her one!
I believe it is wonderful that we are finally starting to look at price tags when we shop for clothing. That it’s suddenly cool again to wear “gently worn” suits or carry leather handbags purchased from your local consignment shop.
That we are questioning the need for gadgetry when we know darn well that simple tools and appliances usually do the trick. That expensive, flashy cars don’t really get us to where we need to go any more reliably than more vanilla models. That dinners in are usually more nutritious than dinners out.
I believe it is wonderful that families are helping family members who have temporarily been displaced out of jobs and of homes. Taking adult children and their kids in. Pitching in as families have always pitched in.
2009 is going to be about recalibrating. For whether you realize you are doing it or not, you are changing something about the way you do things. You are doing one of the above. Or you are re-thinking your line of work. Or your travel plans for spring break. Or your summer vacation. Or the colleges on your family’s wish list. Or your eating patterns and entertaining habits. Your driving routines. Dry cleaning needs. I have noticed in my many daily conversations with clients and with friends: we are coming to accept this new realty as just that. It’s our new reality. And so we better smile and make the best of it.
Recalibrate. In order to best serve you and your family’s needs. Or of your clients or customers. Your professional integrity or the probability of ensuring longevity in your line of work. Recalibrate to preserve your physical and mental health. To save yourself. Recalibrate to regain your spiritual bearings. To become centered.
Recalibration. That’s what’s ahead for us in 2009. For all of us. Whether we want it or realize it. Or not.
Recalibration holds enormous opportunities for blessings and for growth! I hope you start looking for them, reaching out to others who might help you find them, and discover something new about life. About yourself.
Blessings,
Carolina
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Sneaux Day!
OK. It’s corny. Just keeping up the French/Gleaux thing……
We’re covered in at least 8 inches of fresh powder. And it’s still coming down. Glorious! As I sit at my desk in my third floor office, on top of a ridge in this tiny New England town of ours, I stare out my windows, which frame brown tree limbs, starkly rising, and sometimes swaying, in this winter wonderland of white. The wind howls; I hear it through the glass. As it blows, ice-laden snow swirls across the window panes, giving sound to the otherwise silent, beautiful scene.
Turning my thermostat up just one more degree, I gaze out, mind spinning with thoughts of everything I want to accomplish on this snow day.
Snow days are like free days. Pure gifts. Expanded time. With no ability to get to my office nearly a one-hour drive away from home—or not until my plow guy comes to rescue me anyway—I automatically saved two full hours which would have been spent just driving! My pool is closed as well; riding my stationary bike in my basement “gym” will save me another hour and a half. And aaah! The rare treat of the no make-up-pantyhose-high-heels-getting-dolled-up ritual just landed me another free thirty minutes. Snow day math!
Trying not to hyperventilate with this newly-found time on my hands, with full mug of coffee at fingertips, I plan to:
• Put in my daily quiet time. Read. Reflect. Pray.
• Catch up on all personal emails.
• Write this newsletter.
• Log into my work system and do everything I possibly can while working remote. Answer all emails. Keep tabs on the market. Make outgoing phone calls. Turn on cable business TV programs. I will try my darndest to work during market hours only. (Snow days are gifts, after all. Other work calls too!)
• Eat breakfast with my hubby. What a rare treat! I’m usually out the door before the sun comes up.
• Catch up on laundry during short work breaks. (I can almost never get completely caught up during normal work weeks. Can you?)
• Eat lunch with the kids. Whoa. Another rarity. (I think I’ll make hot chocolate. Williams Sonoma has the best mix ever. Have you tried their handmade marshmallows? Yummo.)
• Put a chicken in the oven and let it slow-roast all day. (Dinner on the table on a work night? Are you kidding?)
• Finish a book proposal. (Even with that industry in depression, it doesn’t hurt to keep trying!)
• Try to organize my thoughts and make lists for all the stuff I’m behind in. (Where do I start. I feel myself hyperventilating a bit: kids school papers, board responsibilities, thank you notes, organizing old magazines, de-cluttering the kitchen. Go into attack mode once the markets close.)
• Work on photo albums after dinner. (Nick will graduate in May and when asked if he’d rather I make him a hand-stitched needlepoint belt or present him with a photo book of his life, he said he wanted the book of his life. Wild! So I need to get crackin’. Lesson I learned: don’t under-estimate those precious photos! Put them in good order and try not to get hopelessly behind. Your kids treasure them more than you might realize.)
• Assemble four sunshine baskets. (Every month, I try to get four baskets delivered to people in need of a bit of cheer. I keep my eyes and ears open for someone who has just had surgery, lost a job, is faced with a major illness or accident. It never fails; there are always at least four people a month. I save the wooden cartons that tangerines are packed in and use them for the base. Then I stuff them with paper filler and load them up with as many treats as fit in. Small treats. Could be French soaps, chocolate bars, a pack of stationery, tiny gift book. Simple things which might bring a bit of cheer to someone’s day. Try it. If everyone who reads this newsletter makes four baskets a month, we could be a few thousand points of light to people who need that energy!)
That’s it. That’s my snow day planned out. Mental free-for-all. If you live on the east coast, chances are, you’re snowed-in too. Don’t squander this time! Catch up on sleep and then, fly! And if you aren’t living under a snow drift right now, well, carry on, do your thing and make a difference in one way or another today. At least make a sunshine basket. Or two.
Blessings on your day!
Carolina
We’re covered in at least 8 inches of fresh powder. And it’s still coming down. Glorious! As I sit at my desk in my third floor office, on top of a ridge in this tiny New England town of ours, I stare out my windows, which frame brown tree limbs, starkly rising, and sometimes swaying, in this winter wonderland of white. The wind howls; I hear it through the glass. As it blows, ice-laden snow swirls across the window panes, giving sound to the otherwise silent, beautiful scene.
Turning my thermostat up just one more degree, I gaze out, mind spinning with thoughts of everything I want to accomplish on this snow day.
Snow days are like free days. Pure gifts. Expanded time. With no ability to get to my office nearly a one-hour drive away from home—or not until my plow guy comes to rescue me anyway—I automatically saved two full hours which would have been spent just driving! My pool is closed as well; riding my stationary bike in my basement “gym” will save me another hour and a half. And aaah! The rare treat of the no make-up-pantyhose-high-heels-getting-dolled-up ritual just landed me another free thirty minutes. Snow day math!
Trying not to hyperventilate with this newly-found time on my hands, with full mug of coffee at fingertips, I plan to:
• Put in my daily quiet time. Read. Reflect. Pray.
• Catch up on all personal emails.
• Write this newsletter.
• Log into my work system and do everything I possibly can while working remote. Answer all emails. Keep tabs on the market. Make outgoing phone calls. Turn on cable business TV programs. I will try my darndest to work during market hours only. (Snow days are gifts, after all. Other work calls too!)
• Eat breakfast with my hubby. What a rare treat! I’m usually out the door before the sun comes up.
• Catch up on laundry during short work breaks. (I can almost never get completely caught up during normal work weeks. Can you?)
• Eat lunch with the kids. Whoa. Another rarity. (I think I’ll make hot chocolate. Williams Sonoma has the best mix ever. Have you tried their handmade marshmallows? Yummo.)
• Put a chicken in the oven and let it slow-roast all day. (Dinner on the table on a work night? Are you kidding?)
• Finish a book proposal. (Even with that industry in depression, it doesn’t hurt to keep trying!)
• Try to organize my thoughts and make lists for all the stuff I’m behind in. (Where do I start. I feel myself hyperventilating a bit: kids school papers, board responsibilities, thank you notes, organizing old magazines, de-cluttering the kitchen. Go into attack mode once the markets close.)
• Work on photo albums after dinner. (Nick will graduate in May and when asked if he’d rather I make him a hand-stitched needlepoint belt or present him with a photo book of his life, he said he wanted the book of his life. Wild! So I need to get crackin’. Lesson I learned: don’t under-estimate those precious photos! Put them in good order and try not to get hopelessly behind. Your kids treasure them more than you might realize.)
• Assemble four sunshine baskets. (Every month, I try to get four baskets delivered to people in need of a bit of cheer. I keep my eyes and ears open for someone who has just had surgery, lost a job, is faced with a major illness or accident. It never fails; there are always at least four people a month. I save the wooden cartons that tangerines are packed in and use them for the base. Then I stuff them with paper filler and load them up with as many treats as fit in. Small treats. Could be French soaps, chocolate bars, a pack of stationery, tiny gift book. Simple things which might bring a bit of cheer to someone’s day. Try it. If everyone who reads this newsletter makes four baskets a month, we could be a few thousand points of light to people who need that energy!)
That’s it. That’s my snow day planned out. Mental free-for-all. If you live on the east coast, chances are, you’re snowed-in too. Don’t squander this time! Catch up on sleep and then, fly! And if you aren’t living under a snow drift right now, well, carry on, do your thing and make a difference in one way or another today. At least make a sunshine basket. Or two.
Blessings on your day!
Carolina
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