Birth of a Kiwi

NOTE: I am not posting this link on Facebook as it contains sensitive information that could prove detrimental to my already unstable position with my current employer. Please keep this in mind if/when discussing it with others.

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That’s right folks! I’m finally going to do what I’ve always wanted to do: Leave this country and go somewhere I believe I can achieve a significantly higher quality of life. As I’ve previously indicated, the issues with my job and destruction of my arbitrary career ambitions have reminded me that I yearn for a simpler life.  Indeed, I’ve never really felt like I belonged here; I crave neither material possessions nor wealth, I find no pleasure in anything that the ‘typical American’ enjoys, don’t eat processed foods, dislike watching TV (in fact I don’t even own one), do not rejoice in shopping or spending money in general, and if I see another strip mall my brain is going to melt.  I’ve been to many cities in the US and truly believe I’ve seen enough to affirm that they are all very much the same; it’s time to surround myself with the unfamiliar and what I suspect will be more aligned with my liberal social values and zeal for beauty, nature and most importantly, frugality.

So I’m leaving on February 7, 2015 from Denver, CO to Christchurch, New Zealand (and for only $241 thanks to my United MileagePlus membership!); armed with my 12-month working holiday visa (which was free!) and two solid plans, either of which will qualify me for permanent residency (see below). I understand people will wonder what prompted this decision, so I will say only that I’m unwilling to wonder ‘what-if’ for the rest of my mediocre middle-class American life. I’m giving myself the opportunity to either prove that I was right, leading a happy, simple life as a Kiwi; or that I was wrong, learning that at heart I’m just as addicted to instant gratification as every other American.

I’m not wearing rose-colored glasses either, at least not completely.  I’ve done my homework regarding immigrationto New Zealand, and life there will certainly not be easier. Everything is expensive, prohibitively so. Apparently I won’t be able to afford chicken, popcorn, fresh fruits or vegetables (especially in the winter) or alcohol until I secure an exceptionally well-paying job; they don’t even sell peanut butter and the internet connections are around the speed of US dial-up circa 1993. What New Zealand does have however, is a population of people who thrive on exploiting the beauty of their country by making traveling affordable and convenient, and who thoroughly enjoy adventurous exploration of said land along with a relaxed approach to life and work in general. They don’t worry about trivial first-world problems to the extent of the average American, all the things that make me want to gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon every time I overhear a typical conversation at McDonald’s and even at my current employer.  The latter is actually worse as these people make enough money to partake of the American way of life: Habitually spending money on crap we don’t need, then complaining about having no money or massive amounts of debt.

Mount Ngauruhoe: Aka Mount Doom; I'm climbing this shit Frodo-style!

Ok, I’ve beaten the dead horse.  Please don’t feel offended by my disillusioned version of what I’ve come to know as ‘The American Dream.’ I actually envy all the Americans who love and feel pride in this country, it’s a feeling that I have honestly never felt; but I do distinctly remember deciding, at the tender age of 7, that I would run away to Canada if the military ever tried to draft me. The happiness of my friends and family are of critical importance to me; all I’m asking for is reciprocity, for my loved ones to understand that for some reason this lifestyle does not suit me and I must attempt to remediate that issue.  I’ve done enough self-help work to know that happiness comes from within, and any depressive emotions I harbor will follow me unless I concurrently alter a few key aspects of my personality. Yet I sincerely feel that, in America, those habits will persist. I require a drastic change in environment and social dynamic to help me hit the reset button. In short, I believe that this journey will enable me to implement vital changes in a meaningful way which will last. What’s the worst case scenario? That I’m wrong; returning in a year to be my sister’s live-in maid with no more answers than when I left, but if nothing else, I will be richer for having experienced an alternate way of life.

 

Planning

Prior to Leaving: Find a flat to rent and potential jobs, or book a stay with a working hostel 

Plan A: Secure gainful employment; hopefully a position within a service industry that exploits my innate skills and interests. Ideally, it will be a vocation that enables me to employ my degree and work experience, and also pays well so that I can eat chicken while intoxicated.

Plan B: Get hitched; either by entering into a mutual understanding/symbiotic partnership whereby I provide a clean home, healthy meals, fitness tips and sarcastic companionship in return for my immigration status; sucker someone into thinking I can experience normal romantic emotions (this won’t work as I’m incapable of deception), or actually fall in love with a Kiwi (least likely scenario, but a girl can dream). 

In general, I plan to use dating as a means of eating well while saving money; but since I’ve never dated (sad and difficult to believe, but true nonetheless) this may turn out to be a slightly disastrous aspect of my otherwise flawless plan.  It should also be comical, however, so I’ll be sure to keep my readers informed of any misadventures. Regarding Plan B in particular, I recognize that this is my greatest shortcoming at present, and the topic could easily constitute its own article. Suffice it to say, due to both the circumstances of my childhood and the emotional fallout of my one and only failed relationship, I’m too terrified of the emotional pain of abandonment to accept or provide human affection. This inability will continue to adversely impact my quality of life and chances of experiencing true happiness until I find someone who allows me to organically overcome that fear; someone I know to be worth the risk. My logical nature is against me here as the odds of finding ‘The One’ are too great, so I must trust in my spirituality and faith in God. Spiritually I can feel that this person is not in Kansas; and though they may not be in New Zealand either, this step will somehow bring me closer to them.

That’s it; that’s all I have to say.  Know that every single person receiving this link has touched my life in a positive way and I will always treasure the time we shared, regardless of its length. I sincerely wish to keep in contact, but I’m realistic enough to know that it may not happen; consequently I’ll say now that I Love You so there can be no doubt. Feel free to visit me in Kansas before I leave, or take a great adventure to connect with a friend abroad.  For those in NNY, I will be there June 27th through July 4th, contact me to hang out.  

Thought of the Day 05/19/2014: Just Get to Confusion

Well, today is the day I go into HR and talk about my 'options' regarding the outcome of 'The Ordeal'. As I've previously said, I've made enough allies to keep a role within the company, but I will be taken down a few levels and will not return to my previous department. And though I'm relieved that this will all finally come to an end, grateful for the personal lessons I've learned throughout the last month, I have a few apprehensions relating to my return. Mainly, I'm afraid that keeping my ego at bay and maintaining my serenity for the duration of the discussion (as I take in my offenses and their repercussions) will prove too much for me to take, allowing my emotions to run amok thus digging the hole deeper. As such, during my run this morning I focused on the seed of humility I have previously planted; today that seed will need to at least sprout, poking up from the earth, if I am to protect what little positive image I've established at my company. No matter what is said to me, despite who I think is to blame for what has transgressed, I need to take my share of the responsibility, be the bigger person, accept the chastisements with grace and the new opportunity offered (no matter how lowly it may seem) with gratitude.

The root issue here is my inherent inability to hide what I am feeling. I instinctively wear my emotions on my sleeve; they display across my face in LARGE BOLD PRINT. My face is so easy to read, in fact, that even a Kindergartner could tell you the emotional outcome of my life's story after a five minute conversation. Therefore, while contemplating how I might disguise this vast array of negative feelings upon discussing 'The Ordeal' and seeing those directly involved in my downfall, I remembered that all I have to do is 'get to confusion'. During a leadership training I took with my department last year they explained that along the range of the emotional scale Confusion was in the middle, net neutral. The resulting guidance was that if one should find themselves experiencing a negative emotion within a professional atmosphere where negativity might damage one's career, they only need elevate themselves this neutrality by becoming curious and asking others to elucidate the underlying issues inspiring those emotions. From there, it is much easier to ascend into the realm of positive emotions.

Aha, confusion is an easily obtainable objective! Indeed, the outlandish idiosyncrasies of the average Human keeps me in an almost constant state of bewilderment (most pronounced during my McDonald's shifts). The best part is that my typical reaction to confusion is humor, which quickly propels me into the positive range; now this is a plan I can sink my teeth into! True to this statement, as I imagined myself looking at one particular person and contriving a look of befuddlement, I began to audibly giggle, which inspired still more looks of confusion. Imagining the inevitable confusion that would materialize in the other once my own confusion was conveyed was certainly a pleasant image; one of us looking across the room at each other in utter bemusement. This entertaining illustration yields the ammo needed to rocket me to at least Hopefulness and conquer my ego; allowing me to go about the business of moving into my new role with the dignity. My mature response will then relate to those who had faith in me that I will not disappoint them in my acquiescence to 'The Ordeal', and my ability recover from any ancillary damage.

Lastly, I wish one thing to be plainly understood: I do not blame anyone for what has happened. I am not a victim of anything besides my own poor judgments and I will accept the outcome; though my damaged ego will likely require the coaxing I've related above to accomplish this feat and absorb this lesson in humility. The most critical lessons in life are also the most difficult to learn, which is why we are typically faced with multiple opportunities to grasp them, or otherwise have them beaten into our psyche. Anyway, another epiphany struck me as I ran this morning; I saw myself habitually hard at work digging holes, I then tempted the opportune Persons into obligingly pushing me straight into them. That is certainly what happened to facilitate 'The Ordeal'. Certain people did not apprecaite my ambitious and direct Wild Card personality; she dug the hole, and when I made a trivial documentation error I was pushed into said hole. In retrospect that is precisely what I did to assist in dismantling my one and only relationship and, most recently, the loss of my dog's allegiance. So why would I do such things? Simple; because though I dug the hole and though I enticed others into pushing me, my ego perceives that I was not ultimately to blame for falling into the shit at the bottom. I've said it before, though I apparently misjudged the situation on the first go-round, one will inevitable end up swimming in shit when they Talk Shit.

Thought of the Day 05/16/2014: What Should I Be When I Grow Up?

I'm pushing 30 hard yet 'The Ordeal' has left me asking the question: Do I even know what the hell I should do with my life? So last night I took a Career Test and though the results didn't surprise me, they did prompt me to analyze them differently than I have in the past.

Occupational Interests:
Health Service 94
Food Service 89
Teaching/Social Service 80
Writing 65
Science 65
Outdoors 62
Sales 58
Administration 41
Personal Service 31
Industrial Art 14
Clerical 10
Art 1

The lowest common denominator of my highest scoring occupations seems clear enough: Service; though I'll admit that Science and Writing being equal was a bit unexpected, but pleasant. Indeed, what I do, and always have, enjoy most in life is making other people happy.  I feed off their positive energy like an emotional leach. This propensity towards pleasing others goes to such an extent that I'd actually prefer to lose if I know it'll elate the other person; winning means less to me than their merriment. This morning in spin class it was pointed out to me that that is how I consider myself as 'winning', which I found thought-provoking. I get such a kick out of smiles and jocular conversations with anyone from close friends and loved ones to random strangers, in fact,  just one is enough to offset any assholes or other forms of negativity I may come across.  I sometimes even enjoy interacting with those types of people more as I see making them smile, or perk up in any complying way, as a challenge; and I love a good challenge.

According to this chart I'd have a hard time choosing between Candor (which suits my innate tell-all honest disposition) and Abnegation if I were living in the dystopian society set out in Divergent.

Here's the interesting part.  I'm a classically trained scientist and every job I've considered to have been meaningful in my life up until now has been related to health care and/or pharmaceuticals. Though I've always concurrently held food or customer service jobs such as working at Regal, King Soopers, Old Navy or McDonald's, I've never thought of them as 'my real job' despite the fact that I often, in retrospect, found those types of vocations more rewarding on a personal level. In fact, I've always had 'the real job' to make money, while working the other to interact with society and keep The Wild Card stimulated, thus content. So I ask myself now, knowing that my debts are paid, my nonmaterial lifestyle requires few funds for adequate maintenance and the need for money is therefore no longer a consideration in career choice, which would I rather do? Drum roll please.... I choose Food Service! I would much rather be a lowly waitress for the rest of my life then climb the ranks within a pharmaceutical company simply because it's truer to my real character, now that I've finally come to accept and love that true Being. I want a simple life; one without trivial first-world related anxiety, where I can live in a beautiful place, make enough money to get by, exercise, write and meditate anytime I want without feeling like I should be working on something more important, and just be Me.

Most importantly, as I read and reflect on what I've just written I realize that this is my newly found humility. This decision tempers my natural inclinations to be a Leader that influences others through management, goal-driven and ambitious to a fault. My Worker can be humble, leading by example rather than force; leaving my tiny footprint on this Earth simply by being remembered as a Good Person, always relying a smile and kind words to those I meet along the path of life.

Thought of the Day 05/14/2014: Of Workers and Writers

Today I finally kicked myself in the pants. I decided that what I need is to allow, and sometimes force, my inner Writer to exercise her skills more frequently in the same manner I exercise my Body by running and Soul by meditating (though I could do better with this one as well, of late).  My goal is to re-install daily 'Thoughts of the Day', which for awhile became more like 'Monthly Meanderings', and by so doing perk myself up a bit and dis-entangled all the thoughts that arise as I attempt to make sense of what is happening to me.  I've admittedly not wanted to write because I'm going through a situation that I will refer to as 'The Ordeal'; but today I finally struck upon what I believe to be the main lesson of 'The Ordeal' and actually want to write about it, and since this is my blog, I will.

'The Ordeal' began exactly four weeks ago tomorrow.  For reasons I will not discuss I was suspended from my job at Hospira. Suffice it to say that both entities have made some mistakes and overreacted in ways and now I patiently await, to the extent that my Person allows, as they kindly find a new position for me.  I mean this sincerely as they did not need to keep me; they could have easily terminated me, and for that I'm extremely grateful.  What I'm most thankful for, however, are all the impactful lessons 'The Ordeal' has taught me.  Lessons regarding both who I am and who I want to be, shedding light of the traits I'm not willing to compromise and ones that require rapid installation into my life if I want it to be meaningful and happy.

Once the initial shock of the situation wore off and I was able to focus on the lessons through which I was being led, I saw that 1) I need to install an air tight work filter or I will never have a successful career, 2) The inner aspect of my personality that I primarily identify with is that of 'The Worker', and 3) I now realize what kind of 'Worker' I need to be to allow my other identities to get some game time, ensuring that I lead a more balanced life.

1) Frankly, my frankness and, oh, let's call it passionate vocalizations got a target placed on my back from day one. By being too loud and too ambitious, to say nothing of my unorthodox style, I was destined to fall from grace. By the time I realized the web of trust-oriented team building I had been weaving on my shift was, well, being manipulated by another insect, I was in scope and the laser dot was locked in. I got hit of course, in rapid manner I might add (only two months), and went down like a ton of bricks though the straw that broke the camel's back was something phenomenally trifling.  As such, it was obvious to see something minor was used as an excuse to remove a thorn from among the roses. I had made powerful allies, but powerful enemies as well; thankfully more of the former or I definitely would've gotten canned.

A lesson in humility was rapidly absorbed as my mouth had finally been the sole cause of my downfall. Indeed, I've always wanted to temper my mouth; I've even contemplated asking my doctor to install a muffler on my larynx to moderate my voice projection, or just take in out all together [I'd swear that the Til' Tuesday song 'Voices Carry' was written with me in mind]. I believe, however, that I can learn to be humble without compromising my most valued trait which is honesty.  To do so I must reconsider my innate rules on being honest.  I've always considered honesty as saying anything I perceived to be as a true statement despite social repercussions; if I didn't say it, it wasn't being honest.  This is not true however because professionalism, and most importantly kindness, require me to keep some such statements to myself, honest though they may be.  The greatest test of this new humility will be to return to Hospira after one month of outlandish rumor circulations with my head held high, grateful to be back in any capacity they saw fit to assign me and without letting the 'The Ordeal' make me a victim.

Regarding 'The Ordeal' in consideration of its effect on my current career trajectory, I had to conceded that to rise to the ranks to which I aspired I would have to completely up-end my natural disposition. Instead of being open and honest I'd have to become more guarded and manipulative. Humility aside, this realization led me to ask: 'Is this truly who I want to become and the kind of career I want?' and the very simple answer is FUCK NO. What I have always wanted, in my heart of hearts, is a simple life where I can be myself; that includes some of my more incongruous behaviors which led to my Colorado nickname of Wild Card. She's a real blast; mostly hilarious, but sometimes tragic.  

2) Here's a simple one because I've been through identity crises before and recognized that gnawing feeling of detachment.  I consequently knew I must be upset because one of my identities had been compromised by 'The Ordeal', so I asked 'Who am I?' and the answer was immediate: I AM A WORKER. I've been working almost everyday since the tender age of 14.  Everyone in my family is a Worker, and proud ones at that.  The mere mention of the word retirement is enough to make me feel like I gargled battery acid. Alas! 'The Ordeal' had tried to kill my Worker and now I wasn't sure who I was supposed to be since my work had been suspended. 

Despite the labels others may give you, be who you feel you are and allow that identity to be flexible because change is inevitable. 

3) Two truths materialized from this realization:

1. I had become far too dependent on my Worker identity as evidenced by the fact that its temporary loss had me completely unhinged; I immediately recognized the need to explore and cultivate my other identities, or even invent a new one.
2. For immediate relief, and to appease The Worker, I'd take up my old post at good-old Mickey D's; because no matter what degrees I hold or what tasks I'm ordered to do, and especially regardless of pay, I'm happiest when working and serving others in some form or fashion.

Exploring identities became a fascination of mine during my post break-up spiritual transformation while working the12-steps of AA [a book I hope to eventually write entitled 'The Reset Button'].  When I think back on jobs I found satisfying, my contract gig at Amgen stands out.  My readers will remember it as the time period during which I wrote nearly everyday and my brain was teeming with inspiration.  The job was perfect because it allowed me to mollify The Worker with simple data processing and analytical tasks while also enabling The Runner to trot 6-10 miles daily, The Spirit to medicate for 30 minutes a day, The Writer to unleash her up until then untapped creativity, and The Wild Card to socialize and play kickball with the Boulderites. I was rocking up to five solid identities, and consequently, my life was well balanced and happy.  

Why is that one may ask? Simply because if a person sees themselves as many things, when one identity becomes compromised for instance by an injury, falling out with a friend, writers block, or loss of a job contract, the Person as a whole can always fall back on their other identities to maintain sanity and regain stability. The cumulative effect makes them more resilient to life's inevitable fluctuations. 

My downfall was clear in hindsight. Hospira moved me to Kansas. My job there was the reason I bought my house and became invested in this community; my life in McPherson centered around The Worker and she worked and sought to excel her career at Hospira. I knew with certainty that I would run the site one day..... but in one moment, with one click of the Print button, that certainty was gone and my sole identity was in mortal peril. 

The one identity I've always wanted to try on for size is that of New Zealand Sheep Farmer. So if one day I am discovered to be gone, disappeared like a Christian on the Rapture, then people will know where to find me should they ever need a warm new sweater or some tasty mutton stew. 

[NOTE: I hope to elaborate extensively on my work with identities and archetypes in a collection of articles that would ideally end up being a book about The Human Identity Crisis.]