The Kids Are Alright
“Behold the children and imitate them . . . They are interested in the present moment, in being curious and in learning, in showing and in sharing, in making and creating.”-Clarissa Dinkola Estes, PhD
Perhaps the children really are the ones that truly “get it.” The totality of their young lives exists, in so many respects, in the present. They can seem so anchored there, relishing – or sometimes not – what they find themselves interacting with at that precise instance. Ever watch a young child eat an ice cream cone? There is no past, no future – only the present moment where ice cream meets mouth. I can remember those days as a youngster down the Jersey Shore with my parents when, after a day at the beach, we’d walk along the boardwalk to the frozen custard stand. I was transfixed! The world as I knew it came to a screeching halt – all for the want of an ice cream cone. The singular focus, the ability to screen out everything around me . . . looking back on it through an adult lens, I can now appreciate the sheer beauty of its unfettered simplicity. I had no idea then of how important that intense focus on the now would be to me later in life. More on that later . . . .
Once I made the decision a few years ago to give back to my community and “pay it forward”, I soon realized that I was essentially embarking upon a double life of sorts. First there was the “day job”: the responsibilities that I have in my current role as a corporate vice president at my company – and all of the duties and deliverables associated with it. Then there is this “other life” that was developing outside of my daily work life. Specifically, it is my activism and involvement in the LGBT community which quickly began to take up an ever-growing space in my life. I owe this entirely to the difficulty I have with saying the word “no” when individuals or organizations approach me to get involved in some capacity. It’s only recently that I have developed the tactic of the “polite decline” when it comes to being asked to serve on boards or committees beyond those I have already committed to. But that said, it can quite often be a struggle of conscience because there is still so much work to be done within the LGBT equality movement, especially when it concerns the rights of transgender and gender non-conforming people.
So now, as I embark upon my life’s next challenge I have become increasingly aware of a troublesome incongruence between the day job and my work in the movement. I suspect that some of you reading this may have experienced similar feelings. For me, it has been a troubling inability to reconcile the two spheres I have chosen to live my life within. On the one hand, there is my work in the community which I derive great joy from and where I feel I am most blessed. Having the opportunity to contribute in some way to creating the change that we seek and inspiring others to do the same – in their workplaces and in their personal lives – is most assuredly a gift from a higher place. It makes my heart sing.
On the other is the “day job” (it occurs to me I need to come up with another name for it) – nowhere near as exciting or stimulating as moving an audience who wants to learn from my personal story of embracing my authentic self – but I have to grudgingly admit it serves as the foundation for it. Now of course I get that part. My company pays me a very good wage, and furthermore, didn’t run me out of town on a rail when I came out a few years back. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around how best to reconcile the two. Or if I had to at all. It’s been difficult, make that very difficult, to connect the dots. I simply could not make the connection between these two very disparate worlds. That is until the other night, when I had a telephone conversation with my spiritual director.
But before I go any further I feel it is important to mention that what I am about to share comes from my own personal belief system. It is not an attempt whatsoever to convert anyone. Simply take from it what you will, if anything at all. Some of you may stop reading now thinking I going to get all religious on you. Hardly. Feel free to substitute God for something that works for you – be it, Buddha, Allah, the Divine or perhaps Spirit. With that little disclaimer out of the way, I’ll continue . . .
As we discussed this issue she made me realize that among other things, I was “enduring” my day job and not truly being present to it at all. She went on to explain that I needed to shift how I viewed my daily work through a different lens – the lens of God. I did not come upon my job by mere happenstance, I’m there for a reason. She urged me to consider these questions, “What is God guiding me to in my daily work that is valuable and important?” “What are the benefits I derive from my job that I can bring to others outside of the office?” And finally, “What are the gifts there that God has for me?” She helped me to better understand that I have but one life and everything I do, however mundane, serves a purpose and is invariably intertwined with some other aspect of my life. It keeps me grounded and provides balance. She taught me a simple but very valuable lesson: a compartmentalized life is not an authentic life at all.
This brings me back to the lesson taught by the young children I mentioned earlier: live your life in the moment. Always be present to it and embrace the now. There is much knowledge to be gained by focusing one’s life there. Live in the present moment as the children do, with the knowledge that I am also living my life in my day job with all of its “time to make the donuts” moments, just as much as when I am in the front of a room speaking. My actions – all of them, in whatever the setting – affects others. I am making a difference in both places, in all of the places where I live my life – and that’s where the connection is. That’s where I found the proverbial “golden thread.” By choosing to allow God to teach me what I am supposed to learn there – even if I’m not in the spotlight.
All it took was the realization that I am supposed to be there, focused on the present, and rooted in the now, with the wonder of a child . . .
Anyone up for an ice cream cone?