Surviving the Workday

And, yes, I realize that this is not a shock that I detest Las Vegas. And so do many others, including Pop Gurl, Amanda, who aptly calls it a place that hands out, “Get out of Humanity Free” cards.

I might say that even time in the Las Vegas airport a couple weeks ago was like quick trip to hell, complete with devils and smoke. I haven’t felt so alienated since possibly junior high when my mother made me join the choir, a sure route to popularity and acceptance (Recipe for Instant Dork: Just Add Choir).

It’s not even the abuse of water, abject real estate development and construction, objectification of everything with skin, and omnipresent smell of cigarette smoke, but it’s also apparently it’s also a crime to feed the homeless. That’s right–a criminal act to give someone a sandwich.

I’ll admit it. I’m a hater. I hate Vegas. I hate everything about it. Talk about a lack of compassion.

In my continued exploration of loneliness of modern life in the United States, I offer this article, A Recklessly Generous Heart.

It opens with a quote from the venerable Thomas Moore, voted, at least in my head, the snuggliest of all theologians.

“We are all vulnerable on our journey and need the hospitality and understanding of others,” writes Thomas Moore in his latest book, “Original Self.”

Gosh, isn’t that true. And isn’t there such a decline in hospitality and understanding? The article continues to comment on hospitality as it relates to friendship:

“Whatever Happened to Friendship,” a recent article in the Wall Street Journal, reports that working parents in their 30s and 40s are so involved with career and family, they have little time to extend themselves to others; as a result, they have no deep, lasting friendships. “[T]he importance of spending time with friends is played down as an optional indulgence that steals scarce hours out of an already jam-packed schedule. People are saying, ‘It’s the one thing I can give up,’” says Jan Yager, a sociologist and author. “They’re diminishing the value of friendship.” They are not alone. Retired people, single men and women, teenagers, even children express an increasing sense of isolation.

God, isn’t that true too!? It’s not just working parents in their 30s and 40s. Try and plan a get-together and you’ll see exactly what I mean. And then the article offers this gem.

Hospitality is not a flurry of sentimental acts or occasional gestures. It is a sustained commitment to the belief that the way we treat one another day by day matters deeply.

Read the entire article here.

Ms. Theologian,

I just found out that a coworker is fabulously wealthy. I knew she was rich before, but she’s in the 400 million dollar range. Can you believe that? I don’t even know why she works. This knowledge makes me not take her seriously and actually feel like threatening physical violence. Should I just suck it up? I’d like to be able to deal with her on a civil level, but my civility fails me.

-Not Worth More than 500K

Dear Not Worth –

Ms. Theologian hardly ever advices sucking it up. This is not her style. She could take this further, but she is restraining herself. As such, she advises moderation, restraint, and decorum under adverse circumstances.

Yes, your coworker probably does not need to work for the money. But apparently she gets something from work other than money. So, let her have her have it. She didn’t ask you anyway.

Ms. Theologian grew up in a wealthy community. That is, La Bella Santa Barbara, California. She knew plenty of poor people, but also plenty of rich people, and she was often their babysitter. And here’s what she learned:

a. Never trust the babysitter because she notices everything. Along those lines, please hide the sex books. The babysitter doesn’t know about the lingam and the yoni yet. It’s horrifying!

b. Wealth is somewhat connected to happiness, but not entirely. That is to say that it’s extraordinarily difficult to be happy when you don’t have any food, shelter, or clothing. But when your basic needs are taken care of, it’s a matter of attitude.

So, Not Worth More than 500K, change your attitude. How do you do that? Remind yourself that the most important things are not usually for sale: love, satisfaction, fulfillment, snuggling, hugs, and cooing from babies.

-Ms. Theologian

P.S. If you would like to write to Ms. Theologian, send an email to ms dot theologian at gmail dot com.

This is a fascinating article, Dismissing Sexist Opinions About Women’s Place in Science, which includes an interview with Ben A. Barres, who was born a woman, but now is a man. Because of this experience, he has a particularly helpful opinion of sexism in science. And, no, kids, it didn’t end in the 1960s or 1990s.

Every question in the interview was interesting, and every answer illuminating. As I read, I thought, Aha! That’s what that happened! That’s what’s really going on!

Now, what does this have to do with spirituality? At the root of many religious traditions is the principle of justice and what goes on with women in science is fundamentally unjust. Also, note in the last question below, how women are complicit in this injustice.

An excerpt:

Q. Why do some people attribute differences in professional achievement to innate ability?

A. One of the reasons is the belief by highly successful people that they are successful because of their own innate abilities. I think as a professor at Stanford I am lucky to be here. But I think Larry Summers thinks he is successful because of his innate inner stuff.

Q. What about the idea that men and women differ in ways that give men an advantage in science?

A. People are still arguing over whether there are cognitive differences between men and women. If they exist, it’s not clear they are innate, and if they are innate, it’s not clear they are relevant. They are subtle, and they may even benefit women.
But when you tell people about the studies documenting bias, if they are prejudiced, they just discount the evidence.

Q. How does this bias manifest itself?

A. It is very much harder for women to be successful, to get jobs, to get grants, especially big grants. And then, and this is a huge part of the problem, they don’t get the resources they need to be successful. Right now, what’s fundamentally missing and absolutely vital is that women get better child care support. This is such an obvious no-brainer. If you just do this with a small amount of resources, you could explode the number of women scientists.

Q. Why isn’t there more support for scientists who have children?

A. The male leadership is not doing it, but women are not demanding it. I think if women would just start demanding fairness, they might get it. But they might buy in a little bit to all this brainwashing. They are less self-confident. And when women speak out, men just see them as asking for undeserved benefits.

Dear Ms. Theologian,

I need to create more in my worklife and personal life. But I’m not inspired at all. Any ideas for summoning creativity?

–She Who Wants More

Dear She Who Wants —

Ms. Theologian has found that creativity is sort of like the rabbit who lives in the backyard, up on the hill. Sometimes the rabbit finds the garden and feasts and lolls around, belly up, as if there were no enemies. And then sometimes the rabbit hides and isn’t seen for weeks. If, for example, the large German Shepherd is in the yard, then the rabbit doesn’t come out to feed.

Creativity comes and goes. In safe relaxing times, creativity lolls around on her belly looking self-satisfied and eating (my freakin’) carrots. And other times, Creativity sleeps deep within her burrow.

Ms. Theologian has found that she is especially creative when:

a. driving alone because she has non-computer think time
b. hiking alone (same reason)
c. sleeping

But that is Ms. Theologian. And frankly, she is not convinced that Creativity is the same for all. Some people seem especially creative with a large German Shepherd in the yard, for example.

Any ideas for harnessesing creativity, readers?

–Ms. Theologian

P.S. If you would like to write to Ms. Theologian, send an email to ms dot theologian at gmail dot com.

I just found out about three great magazines from Ideal Bite that directly relate to using a sense of spirituality to make the world a better place (which in the best sense is much of our “work” here on earth):

Plenty - green culture mag.

Ode - “for intelligent optimists.” Articles covering natural health, science and spirituality.

Yes — “supporting you in creating a more just, sustainable, and compassionate world.” And you can get an issue free.

I’ve been thinking a lot about touching recently, particularly in the workplace. What makes a touch good? What makes it bad? What is comforting? What is too much?

And now, I have what is the best example of why you shouldn’t massage your coworkers. Doesn’t this look like she didn’t want to be touched?

Bush Massages Merkel at the G-8 conference in St. Petersburg (ah, St. Petersburg….)

Don’t be afraid of the German text. You can access the video on the left and see the look of abject horror on dear Angela Merkel’s face. She doesn’t want to be touched by Bush. Who can blame her.

Lastly, please take the survey in the post below.

with this survey:

2006 Ask A Working Woman Survey

The responses will be distributed to Congress on Labor Day. And the results are fascinating, but you can only view them once you take the survey.

Sponsored by Working America (AFL-CIO).

And you can also post a story about a bad boss there and enter a contest for a vacation. And there are a few samples, which are cringeworthy.

Dear Ms Theologian,

My job as become beyond boring. I literally do no work all day. Not one lick. I just sit there and stare, or read short stories that I have downloaded from the internet, or beg friends to give me projects I can do that look like work. They pay me a ridiculous sum to do this. Not tons, mind you, but more than at my old job where I ran around in circles. I suppose I should be happy–this is a dream for most people, to be paid to do nothing. But I’m going insane.

Last night I dreamt I had been lobotomized, and I woke up feeling like that actually has happened in real life. I’ve tried telling my boss that I have nothing to do, but he keeps putting me off. I’m not entirely sure he knows what I’m supposed to be doing. The thing is, my last job was the same way until they figured out what to do with me. But that could take years. Quitting is not an option–I need the cash and this is literally the only place to work in my field that is close by. Also, I like the people. I want to stay, I just want something of substance to do!

There is also a Big Project on the horizon, but I have no idea what my role will be or even when it will start. I feel like it will never happen. Meanwhile, I stare, and go crazy. And the people I manage do all the work. Any practical advice?

-Lobotomized on Longuyland

Dear Lobotomized:

Ms. Theologian has been warped by Tin House. She is forced to ask you this: Can we learn something from the short stories you’ve been reading?

As you describe this situation, Ms. Theologian sees it is with frustrated agency (no, not urgency,—agency, as in being an agent on your own behalf). You can’t get a new job, you can’t get help from your boss, you can’t find other projects to entertain you. You can’t do anything!

After some reflection, Ms. Theologian believes that you need to find your own agency. What does that mean? It could mean many things. You might find a project that inspires you at work. You might find that starting the Big Project in some way works. You might find a way to build a community at work. Don’t tell me that you can’t do any of these things. You need to find the solution here and its rooted in your own agency. Your boss doesn’t seem able or willing to solve it for you. And Ms. Theologian can’t do that for you.

But, fortunately, your psyche has been paying attention. It’s a bit concerned. And Ms. Theologian is too.

You’re smarter than you think, Lobotomized,

–Ms. Theologian

P.S. If you would like to write to Ms. Theologian, send an email to ms dot theologian at gmail dot com.

Now, nothing people, just nothing beats returning from a week of only 20 hours of sleep to an Italian exam. Nothing beats that. Because frankly nothing makes sense and it makes a lot less sense in Italian.

Mon dieu! See, that’s the WRONG language.

Mierda! Again, the WRONG language.

A Journey Begins with a Job is an interesting article in the Oregonian about the worklife of a man with autism. You may find his struggles very familiar.

And now, work was unbearable. Lowe’s had hired another man with disabilities, and Donald took it as an effort to replace him as the store’s “star player.” A co-worker had turned him in to human resources for calling the new guy an unflattering name.

Donald clocked out and headed to the break room, with its lockers and bulletin boards. His gaze fell on the co-worker he suspected of complaining to HR. “I hope you’re satisfied!” Donald shouted. Then he hurled his backpack across the floor and lifted a fist.

The scene grew so intense that a co-worker strode across the break area and talked Donald into joining him in the training room next door to calm down. There Donald’s frustrations erupted. He complained that his store manager was trying to break him of his phone book collection and that co-workers were ganging up on him. And he was lonely.

Prayer of Thanks

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
Father in heaven,
We thank thee.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m here in Portland in an industrial park that houses the airport hotels. Let’s just say that if I suffered from memory loss and wandered outside for hours and hours I would still be unable to tell you if I were in Texas or Oregon or California.

Large two story buildings without windows? Check.
Too much grass? Check.
Petunias and pansies that have seen better days? Check.
Access to fast food? Check.

I’m wondering why we’ve decided in the United States that all places of business need to look identical. It’s very creepy.

I’ve already dined with the famous Myfanwy, Katrina, and we’re adding Bonnie to our posse….

In interviewing folks for my book on spirituality and the workplace, I found that most people inevitably had a collection of objects at work (or in the car) that comforted them.

I think most of us do this unintentionally—we collect reminders of good times (postcards, family photos), objects that make us smell good (lotions and essential oils), and often childhood toys. All of these combine to give a signal to our brain that it’s okay to relax at work.

Cheryl Rainfield in Portable Comfort has more ideas:

A comfort bag might contain:

some natural hand cream, facial lotion, or oil that has a smell that makes you feel good;
a pen and paper to write with (so you can write out what’s upsetting you, or write out things that make you feel good);
a stone to hold and look into;
a card from someone you love;
a music player and music that calms you;
a book that makes you feel good;
some small toys that make you smile, or help you feel loved or strong;
a small pewter object or worry stone;
something to fiddle with or hold in your hands–a worry stone, a wire toy, a squishy ball, etc.
a vial of essential oil that is calming (lavender, chamomile, rose), that makes you feel good, or that just smells good to you;
a small stuffie–or even a big one;
a comfort book (mentioned later in this article);
and any of the things mentioned in this article, or anything small that makes you feel good.

How to Put Together a Comfort Baghas more tips too.

What do you keep away from home that comforts you?

Here are some flip cards that I look at.

of irresponsible advertising that exacerbates social problems(Victoria’s Secret), I’ll ask what every feminist from the third wave is asking: What the fuck is this about?

Do you get your ideal bite each day?

Here’s part of today’s Ideal Bite:

What’s better than the smell of fresh-cut grass?

The Bite: The smell of fresh-cut grass without the smell of gasoline. Use a reel or electric mower, rather than a high-polluting gas-powered one, and inhale the sweet scent of grass and greenback savings.

Save gas. Each weekend, 54 million Americans mow their lawns, using an estimated 800 million gallons of gas per year. More gas is spilled while refueling lawn equipment each year than was spilled by the Exxon Valdez.

Save cash. Using an electric mower, you’ll pay about $5 per year for the electricity costs. Using a gas-powered mower, you’ll pay that much in just two mows.
Cleaner air. According to the EPA, gas-powered lawnmowers account for up to 5% of US air pollution.

Today’s reel mowers (vastly improved from your dad’s old reel mowers) are the best bet for the planet, but rechargeable electric mowers are increasingly Earth-friendly.
Bothered by noise pollution? It’s not a problem with reel mowers and electric mowers which make just a tenth of the amount of noise as gas-powered ones.

Prayer of Thanksgiving for Surprises

For a friend’s unexpected call,
for a letter unforeseen,
for the sunlight bursting through thick clouds,
for a porpoise frolicking in the water,
for seals basking in the sun,
for an invitation to dinner on a lonely eve,
for a request to “come along”;
for all the wonderful surprises of life
we give you thanks, O God of joy. Amen.

- Vienna Cobb Anderson

from Beliefnet’s Prayer of the Day

You are really an awful business and I own some of your underwear and frankly it’s awful too. It’s poorly made, uncomfortable, and I’m ashamed I bought it in the first place.

And here’s one good reason that Victoria’s Secret should be ashamed of itself:

During the third week in June, a shopper in Boston was told she couldn’t breast-feed her baby in the Victoria’s Secret dressing room and was directed to a nearby bathroom, according to a company spokesman. The same week, a woman in Wisconsin was not allowed to breast-feed in a corner of the store when the dressing stalls were occupied. She later took her baby into a dressing room but got upset when she overheard employees discussing her.

So let’s review what we know: Victoria’s Secret is allowed to make millions of dollars from sexualizing breasts, but will not allow women to use their breasts for their biological purpose in their own stores.

It’s not enough that they market their Pink line of underwear to tween girls, who frankly shouldn’t have anything to do with Victoria’s Secret.

So again, let’s review what Victoria’s Secret teaches us:

your breasts and ass were created for men’s viewing pleasure beginning around age 10

Who’s up for some underwear burning?

When I was in divinity school and friends with the Rev. Hank Pierce, I noticed that he used to fast on Fridays (when we had a class together on Unitarian Universalist polity–no, polity is not a typo, it’s like policy, but it’s religious).

I thought this fasting notion was insane, but he had a lot of good reasons for this. My thinking was that my body needs fuel, I’m already running between Houghton Mifflin and Harvard Divinity School all day, I can’t do that without fuel. His thinking was deeper and more profound and no doubt it still is.

The fast yesterday lasted about 20 hours at which point I did, as promised to some, gnaw off my own arm, consume it with wasabi, and collapse into a grumpy, yet satiated mess.

Some might argue that the fast won. Yes, indeed it did.

I’ve been thinking about the war in Iraq and politicians who just lie and lie and lie ceaselessly recently.

I woke up and saw this photo of Bryan Anderson in the Los Angeles Times and decided I’m joining the Code Pink Fast for the Fourth of July.

What the the fasters asking for?

The fasters are demanding that we bring our troops home from Iraq. They want the White House and Congress to call for:

The withdrawal of all U.S. from Iraq;
No permanent bases in Iraq;
A commitment to fund a massive reconstruction effort but with funds going
to Iraqi, not U.S., contractors.

Look Who Else Is Fasting

And lest I sound like a martyr, I’m eating at 5 p.m., so we’re only talking about 24 hours since 5 p.m. yesterday.

You may send your sympathy to Jim for having to deal with a hungry wife.

Dear Ms. Theologian:

-Pets are more interesting than work

Dear Pets —

How much coffee are you drinking?

This isn’t a joke. I honestly think if people cut back on the caffeine their lives would change for the better. Caffeine is strongly tied to anxiety. You would do best to limit or eliminate your intake of caffeine throughout the day and see if that helps. (In the interest of full disclosure, this is something I struggle with (all editors struggle with this), but trust me, less caffeine is better.

Next, you might try listening to your mind. This is a type of meditation, really. And don’t tell me you’re not the meditating type. Because the people who say this are always the ones who need to meditate the most. When you have a random thought, write it down. And keep writing them down. That way you can see if all those thoughts are grouped into categories. For example, my random thoughts are now focused on a. lost wedding ring and possible locations I haven’t searched (the dog’s intestinal tract?) b. air conditioning and lack thereof, and c. amount of work. None of this is that interesting, but by writing it down and accepting it at least I can say to myself, Yes, that’s right, we are worried about air conditioning. Right. Moving on….

You also might try creating a comfort bag. This is a collection that you carry with you of things that soothe you. You can put it in something as small as a make up bag or as large as a backpack. It goes where you go. In my collection (in the back of my planner), I have:

a photo of my husband
a photo of my dog and husband
a postcard showing a wall at Mesa Verde that I find compelling
a collection of slips of directions to parties that I’ve had a good time at
my husband’s CD

It doesn’t sound like much, but it does a world of good on a bumpy plane ride. I also have a collection of objects in the car (two seashells from a nice vacation, an enchanted bracelet, and then the emergency medical supplies, jumper cables, water, and about a gallon of sand from the beach) and at my desk (a bunch of childhood toys, photos, vanilla lotion, Quan Yen).

More ideas that are more compelling, particularly if you like snuggly things, here.

Breathe in, breathe out,

Ms. Theologian

P.S. To write to Ms. Theologian, send an email to ms DOT theologian AT gmail DOT com.