growing up micro

So I talk about myself being very detail-oriented. I call it comfort with, passion for, experience handling--whatever. It's what I've had to do for the majority of my career: deal with a lot of details a lot of the time. Calm my managers with my sheer mastery of the small stuff. And I'm challenging myself to be less obsessed with micro (said details) and more mindful of the macro view.

I just passed my first active test. About and hour and a half ago, we closed the book on a fairly large event. It wasn't a whole lot of people, but it was fairly large in scope and involved different audience stakeholders. I found myself tamping down the urge to dive in to a minute by minute program. I didn't even make a spreadsheet.

Well, actually, that's not exactly true. I made one spreadsheet, but it just had names on it, no "6:32-6:38 Blah Blah Blah" type of my usual handiwork. I was responsible for one major area, and I did a bang up job, imho. I made sure that area didn't have a whole lot of opportunity for micro level scheduling detail. It was the best thing I could have done. It was an experiment my coach and I talked about some time ago. What would happen if I didn't do what I usually do--if I didn't play the role I usually play? How would the team function? How would it make me feel? I know that I felt darned uncomfortable. But I tried to think about it like I think about planning a wedding: as long as two people end up married by the end of the day, you can call it a success.

It was great. It really was. I'm proud of us, and I'm proud of the finished product. And I'm starting to trust in the process of transformation.

when I'm not skiing

So it occurred to me that I am not skiing. I had thought about it since I used to do around this time of the year. Instead, I came home. Not that apartment-in-the-city-esque Schwab home, but one of the several homes where the heart is. This is the one where the husband is. It's nice: being home sometimes. The daisies are starting to come back, but the camellias continue to refuse to bloom. The onions that L was so excited about somehow lost the underground part and became just roots and stem, so instead of regular sweet onions, it's more of a green onion story. Sometimes, I don't know where I fit into the household anymore, since I'm home only once or so a week. Do I just pick up whatever chore? Or am I still fully responsible for things? I spent Saturday getting things that were broken fixed--like my favorite sunglasses and interview shoes--and shopping for things that I had been meaning to pick up--like long sleeve t-shirts. When we went to visit Kellogg, they took him away for a whole day of education about where to find everything in the local area and how it was his duty as the non-student to support the Student during this intense period of activity. That orientation has made a world of difference. I've spoken with several SOs who've said they would have loved to have had that.

Anyway, work on the job front continues. People continue to submit their applications to school, so I've had some interaction in that direction, too. Weird. How long ago that all seems. I guess, no matter how big the fish in your pan are, there are always bigger fish to fry. Always ever-more competitive environments to compete in or goals to achieve. Always more interesting places to go over holiday weekends.

Time to turn to homework, at least for a while.

chocolate butterflies

So I was walking to Schwab today. And I happened to be walking from a direction that I don't usually go. I was walking from Escondido Village. I was taking in the afternoon and the breeze. I just passed a tree with a metal tag on it, and was reminded of how the University keeps track of all of its trees. It knows how many trees there are on campus. I had hear this stated confidently, so I was pondering whether it was a rumor, or was it plausible.

Anyway, so I was walking, and I saw a brown butterfly with wings the color of chocolate syrup with a butter yellow edge. It caught wind here and there, and meandered past me. And I thought, how good is it to be alive and enjoying the beauty of a butterfly in the afternoon? See, that's the difference between autumn and winter quarter. Autumn quarter, there are no butterflies--just mandatory things. Winter quarter, so far, is all about choice. Sure, there are core classes. But these are classes I might choose to take, given the choice. And I can choose to take more classes. Or get more involved in clubs. Or take on a group project. I could shadow an alum in a job function I want to investigate over spring break. Or, I could apply and maybe get accepted into the new Brazil service learning trip. Are you friggin kidding me? This is on top of all the career choices that are being presented at the same time this quarter. So many choices. So many people to talk to about them all. So much opportunity.

So now I am at a bit of a crossroads. I can enjoy the sun and the exploration and the pondering. Or I can get cracking on the job front. Right now, I'm trying to figure out how to do both.