Krissy

On pessimism.

I was walking Jay just now, on our regular evening walk around the neighborhood, and as usual I was lost in thought. Reviewing conversations from today, my reactions to various things, thinking about my upcoming getaway for a few days. In general, I consider myself an optimist, so was surprised at myself when I realized everything I was thinking was so terribly pessimistic.

My much-needed getaway is going to go by much too quickly, it won’t be enough before I have to get back to the grind… and catching back up afterwards is going to be hell.

I thought she was my friend, but I guess not.

My new boss is going to be a nightmare.

I’m never going to convince that person that I’m not the enemy.

This virus is never going to get better, and I’m sure will destroy any plans I hope to make for the holidays.

My dog is going to die someday and that is going to be devastating.

I’m going to be alone forever.

I’m failing at everything I’m working on right now.

I’m never going to be as strong as I wish I was.

And on and on and on.

Like I said, I generally feel pretty optimistic and hopeful about life in general, about the future, about how I’m doing and where I’m going, so once I recognized and realized this downward spiral of despair I found myself in, I wondered: What is this?

What we think and what we feel are not always what is true.

So what is true?

It is true that I am professionally tired. I have been pushing and pulling and convincing and corralling and editing and creating and cheerleading for many months without reprieve, and I need to detach from that for a bit. Will the time away I have planned be enough? I have to trust it will be. Every single time I’ve ever prayed for ten hours of sleep to somehow fit in the four I have available I’ve never been left disappointed. So my prayer for this week is please give me a month of rest in a few days’ time… and trust it will be done.

It’s true that this is a lonely season; meeting new people and interacting with new friends is challenging when navigating a global pandemic, but it will not be forever. It won’t. And in the meantime, I can reach out to friends I haven’t talked to in months or years and reconnect thanks to the wonders of the interwebs and video calls that still leave me in awe at how star-trek-esque they are.

Being real and true to who I am, even if it’s not liked or appreciated by everyone I’ll ever interact with is still the right thing to do. I am here on earth not to be popular or admired or someone else who never upsets anyone, but rather to be someone who loves well while pursuing what I know to be right and good, no matter what the cost may be.

The virus will eventually be history, the election will eventually be over, this b-grade post-apocalyptic movie we have found ourselves living in will one day be that one thing that happened that one time, just like every life-altering event that I’ve ever experienced has. The thing I need to remind myself is to not just waste away life waiting for these things to be over, but rather identify the issues at the core of the desperation, the fear, the anxiety, the despair; because those are things that will still be around, even after whatever event we’re waiting for or dying for is over. They’ll just attach themselves to the new crisis of the day, one we can’t even imagine yet.

So tonight I need to surround myself and fill myself with these things that are true and allow them to settle deep into my despairing heart: I am doing the best I can with what I have and that is really, really good.

And I’m much stronger than I think.

A Sunday Hike

One of the things I really love about Pretoria is the abundance of hiking opportunity within a reasonable distance. There’s a few places right in the city I feel safe enough to go alone, and a few of them are even doggy friendly!

Anytime I have taken Jay, until today, we haven’t gone more than about 5k. When I’m running in my neighborhood he tends to slow down quite a bit by then and need encouragement to keep going, so when I run longer than 5k I’ll usually drop him back at the house halfway. He does have short little legs, so I don’t fault him.

But today I decided we’d try a longer hike, because he seems to enjoy hiking SO much (and so do I), and it was a cool, overcast morning. After about 8k he noticeably slowed and by 10k I was having to encourage him to keep moving. When we got home, he fell asleep and hasn’t moved much all day.

He doesn’t generally like water all that much, but today he just plopped right down in the river. He’s a very good boy.

On being a One.

Have you ever heard of the Enneagram? If not, go ahead and check out the Enneagram Institute, or Integrative Enneagram.

In short, it’s kind of like a personality typing mechanism, such as the Meyers-Briggs, or a workplace behavior analysis like DISC – except those tools are meant to look at and predict behaviors. The Enneagram looks at motivations.

You really should check it out. And just one tip – the experts say don’t just take a test and go with what the test says, because the best a test can do is measure behavior, and we are notoriously bad as humans at lying on tests to get the result we think we want or we think is right or good. So sure, take the test, but also read into the different descriptions, and listen to podcasts, and sit with it until you find what is truly you. It’s common to mistype, I did at first. More enneagram resources and podcasts are linked at the end of this post.

SO anyway, as you can tell by the title of this blog post, I’m an enneagram one. And the more I learn about it, the more I see myself, and the more I uncover about what and why I’m me.

The One is often labeled as a perfectionistic, but I prefer reformer. Idealistic, self-controlled, purposeful, principled, problem-solving, often frustrated when the rest of the world isn’t these things. Boy can I relate. Ones tend to believe there is a right way to do everything and want to make a difference with their lives. Now remember, this is a measure of motivation, not behavior, so you will definitely find ones that are perfectionistic in how they clean their house or fold their towels, while other ones are perfectionistic in how they approach problems at work or expectations they have of others.

One of the hallmarks of a One is the existence of an inner critic. It’s as if there’s an inside voice that is constantly reminding you about your inadequacies, or pointing out your weaknesses, or showing you more problems that need to be solved, or reminding you of that one mistake you made decades ago that (so she says) was about as awful as any heinous crime you can think of in the history of the world

She can be a real nuisance, plain and simple. But also? She is a rule follower, a visionary, willing to do anything it takes to do things well and good and leave the world better than it was before.

Here’s some ways being a one plays out in my day-to-day life.

In overarching terms or when I can step back and look at the big picture, I know I’m good at my job. But on a day-to-day experiential level, my default assumption is I am failing. According to my inner critic, there’s a right way to do everything and unless I know FOR SURE I’m doing it exactly right (i.e. following the instructions and guidelines and rules perfectly, when they exist), then I assume I’m probably blowing it (i.e. when the instructions/guidelines/rules aren’t clear) and am already anticipating the conversation we’ll have when they (whoever is in charge) point out that I blew it. But I didn’t know. Because if I did, and it’s completion was within my control, it would be done well. And turned in before the deadline.

Another way it’s played out recently is a couple of weeks ago I received some feedback that didn’t feel awesome and also felt completely out of left field. Something I had written could have been interpreted differently to what I intended… something really minor, that was likely forgotten almost immediately in the crazy that is this work and this world, but in the moment I was shocked and devastated, and for days afterwards, (and still today, if I’m honest) I feel absolutely horrible about it. That darn inner critic keeps reminding me of what happened, and also says things like how could you have been so stupid…. Yeah, they definitely regret hiring you. No one will ever be harder on me than I am.

So for example we’re writing and editing a lot of documents at work right now; new SOPs, guidelines, policie,s and forms, etc. I have one colleague, a friend who works in another country, who readily shares her draft documents with everyone else across the continent… which I find super helpful. But also? I’m awed at her bravery. Because I can’t do it. I can’t share when I don’t know for sure I’ve met the (often unclear) expectations of those who are expecting to receive these docs… and unless I know I’ve done it right, I’m sure I’ve done it wrong.

One of the most helpful things about learning about the enneagram was I realized that not everyone has this inner critic berating them like I do. I assumed it was universal, and then was (am?) shocked and frustrated when other people don’t seem to care as much as I do about being on time, meeting deadlines, saying yes to things that are important even though I don’t really have the bandwidth, following the rules of law or basic human goodness, etc. And what do you mean that not everyone wakes up in the middle of the night and analyzes (and feels awful all over again) about that one mistake you made decades ago? and you’re re-scripting and re-scripting and rehearsing what you’d do and say if it ever happened again? Oh, it’s just me? Yeah. It is. And many of my enneagram one friends. But knowing it’s just me, and not the expectations of everyone in the world, often I can tell that inner critic to buzz off.

But the motivation for all these things comes from such a good place – I want so badly to do well in doing good, not for my own benefit but to know that once I get to the end of my time here on earth, I’ll look back and know I’ve done everything I can to leave it better than it was when I came into it. And hear the words, well done.

I love learning about myself, about the inner workings of human behavior and motivations and logic or lack thereof. Learning about the enneagram, recognizing and understanding the motivations behind my behavior has helped me put into words and explain to others… at the same time I also have a lot more grace for people who tend to run late or don’t care about rules or whatever else that’s very different to me.

I’d love to hear from you! Do you know the enneagram? How does your number play out in your day to day life?

Some of my fave resources:

The Road Back to You (please support local/independent bookstores if possible!)

Jen Hatmaker’s For the Love podcast did a series last summer

Annie F Downs That Sounds Fun podcast did a series the last two summers in a row! (It was the 2019 series I fully recognized I was a One and not the type I had mistyped earlier)

Enneagram Institute (linked in first paragraph) – I go back here often when after conversations with others or when I’m wondering where a particular feeling or thought is coming from.

What are your favorite resources?

Springtime in Pretoria

In the short time I was gone, down on the Dolphin Coast, springtime came to Pretoria. And what a glorious beauty she is. Suddenly there are leaves on the trees, the bees are buzzing, and there’s a smell of cherry blossoms (or some other lovely smelling blossom!) wafting around us. After what feels like a long, dreary winter, made a million times worse due to the pandemic… the shot of hope and new life is truly welcome.

To the Dolphin Coast

South Africa went into lockdown on March 25, with one of the strictest lockdowns in the world. We weren’t even allowed to go for a walk with our dogs. Gradually, the rules have been relaxed, bit by bit, and a few weeks ago they relaxed the prohibition on inter-provincial travel. Finally. I booked a pet-friendly Air B&B, packed up enough stuff for a week and Jay and I headed down to the coast.

This part of South Africa is called the Dolphin Coast, and it’s definitely the right name; four times in the days I was there I watched in awe as a huge pod of dolphins jumped and played in the surf. I didn’t manage to get any photos, because I couldn’t do anything but stand there with a huge grin on my face. It is also whale migration season, so pretty much anytime you looked out after just a few minutes you’d see whales jumping, or rather, the splash they left behind.

He had the whole beach to roam but sat at my feet.

Jay loved the beach, and it was almost completely empty. I was able to let him off the leash and he barked at the waves, rolled in dead fish, sniffed everything. He’s not much of a swimmer but he did splash around a little, especially in the rocky areas where there were tide pools and puddles.

There’s something magical about water; just looking at it brings a sense of calm over me. I say I can feel my blood pressure going down and the stresses of the week or month or year just melt away. I’ve lived on water my entire life; I grew up on Lake Superior and we spent our summers at a lake cabin in central Minnesota. After that, I lived in Seattle for almost a decade, where Puget Sound and Lake Washington and Lake Stevens and Lake Union were constantly waving to me through my car windows. Then I lived in Benin as a Peace Corps Volunteer, the only two years of my life I wasn’t within a few minutes of a large body of water. Then I lived in Freetown, Conakry, Pointe Noire, Toamasina, Cotonou, Boston, and Monrovia. What do all these cities have in common? The coast.

So living in Pretoria is certainly different; it’s high altitude and very dry, and quite a distance from any body of water. But, it’s a short flight to the coast, and not expensive, so I managed to get there often enough that I didn’t really miss it. Until lockdown. Suddenly, I am stuck in a tiny province known only for it’s metro areas, and I can’t leave. After a few months I was filled with the deep longing and no way to fulfil it.

Playing on the rocks, reminds me of Lake Superior.

So that’s why, as soon as it was allowed, I made plans to visit the sea. Jay did great, no car sickness at all during the seven-hour drive, and the only challenge we had was his poor little paws were rubbed raw by the sand as we walked on the first day. But he healed up quickly and his paws became used to it and we ran and we played and we loved the wind, the waves, the salty air and the sand in all it’s beauty and glory.

Never underestimate the power of a change of scenery. Before we left I was truly in the depths of despair; the winter had been long, the loneliness of lockdown was heaver than I realized. Work was feeling crazy and I found myself hating this dream job I love and knew something needed to change. By the time I drove back I was looking forward to coming home, the house that had felt like a jail was suddenly a place of comfort; having gotten on top of some outstanding work things made me feel better in control and able to handle whatever was thrown at me next. And I’ll head back to the beach in a few weeks’ time; something to look forward to is critical and such a relief, after so many months with nothing good on the horizon.

Jay happy about a special treat while I sipped my coffee.

The monkeys tormented Jay on our walks, and he really, really wanted to chase them.

On Writing.

There’s something about writing.

It’s like I get all these words and thoughts and feelings and questions swirling around in my brain and the only thing that calms it is putting it into words. Because by wrangling it all into a form that can be read and understood by others, I also start to understand it for myself… and own it, and wrestle out the things that need to be wrestled out, decide what needs deciding…and move on.

I’ve missed this. I have so many things swirling.

And there’s a rush of pleasure, bringing order to the chaos; pulling the words out of the swirling to make sense on the page, it’s a relief when just the right words fall into just the exact right order to convey perfectly what it is I’m thinking or feeling or longing for or dreaming. I imagine it’s a similar feeling when a painter looks at the completed canvas, when it reflects back to them that thing that was in them that needed to get out. This is my art form.

And I couldn’t possibly care less how many people read it. Maybe I’m just writing for my mom. That’s fine with me. Maybe it’s a writer thing, but if there are words that are in me that need to be in the world, it’s just my job to put them into the world. Whether or not anyone reads them is not up to me. It’s a relief when we can let go of the pressure to control things that are inherently outside of our control.

I wrote at krissyonmercy.blogspot.com for eight wonderful years, some of the best words that have ever come out of my fingertips. I’m so proud of them, of that season, of the challenges I faced and conquered, and of the person I became as a result. But also, the change didn’t stop when the season did. If anything, it’s accelerated. When your life feels defined by the current moment, whether it be your Peace Corps service, the raising of small kids, the art you’re currently devoted to, the work you’re pouring out while living on a ship, or whatever else, it can feel as though that defining thing will always be the defining thing. But then, as it does, the sun rises and the sun sets and the years pass and we move into the next chapter or season or space, and the events that once defined us turn into that one thing that happened that one time, and life continues on.

Let Us Begin has been perking for awhile. That fateful trip to the Kennedy museum was November 18, 2017. I’ve said that I believe there is a book in me to write someday; maybe it’s called Let Us Begin, maybe it isn’t, but when the time is right it’ll happen. In the meantime, I’m excited to have built this new thing that more accurately represents the person I am right now, where I can share wonderings and wanderings and ponderings and anything else that feels right.

So I guess that’s all to say, I feel a push inside of me to engage with my art in a more intentional way, which feels a bit scary and vulnerable and exciting and hopeful, all at the same time. And the words that keep ringing around in my head are exactly this: Let Us Begin. So this is me, beginning this next thing. Thanks for joining me.

Let us begin.

Welcome to my new blog, the wonderings and wanderings of a global nomad.

I chose this title because of a quote etched into the stone walls of the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library just outside of Boston, MA. When I read this quote my breath caught in my lungs and I felt a warmth spread through my entire being. I knew at that moment I’d found the title of the book I think might be somewhere inside of me. Kennedy spoke these words in his inaugural address, after outlining all the hopes and dreams of his administration as they stepped onto the world stage:

All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.

Regardless of how audacious the goal, or how unlikely the dream, or how enormous the impact we long to have or build or leave, it’s worth beginning. So let us begin.