Alana's Dharma Blog

I was on the 2017 KPY retreat and I suddenly remembered how, as a kid I used to love to play with Barbie dolls: I would come-up with a story line — Barbie the doctor who saves lives, Barbie on beach vacation, Barbie the princess going to a ball to meet her prince — and then I would dress-up the Barbie dolls to fit the story, to become the characters. Each article of clothing I put on a doll was significant, each item and accessory was essential to my tale. When the story was over, I would undress the Barbies to put them away; naked they were uninteresting to me, each doll the same as the next.  Of course, like most kids, I hit an age where Barbies no longer appealed to me and the dolls went into the give away pile with a bunch of other toys.

Now though, I realize I never really did grow out of playing Barbie, its just that as I got older, I became the doll. I look back on my life and see distinct phases, distinct identities, distinct Alanas, all made ‘real’ by the clothes. 

• In college I had all my torn jeans and hippy shirts, I was a free love, liberal Alana trying to fit in and hide my true ‘trust fund hippy’ identity
• Once I graduated and got my first job it was all sacks and cardigans, a sexy librarian look for this young career woman
• After moving to Cali I had to ditch the conservative Texas look to fit-in, so it was all hipster tees and logo sweats to fit in with the new chill California Vibe.
• Until of course I started noticing my body changing, looking older, rounder, saggier and I knew it was time for a refresh so it was boots to make me badass and skirts to make me sexy, but age appropriate, to combat the loss of youth
• As I got wealthier, the clothes got fancier and it was all about the purses and shoes and jewelry to show my financial success
• But then the effort of it all became overwhelming so in with the simple black dress wardrobe for a chic but sensible Alana

With each new phase, the old clothes ended-up in the give away pile. Easy as pie, I never needed to give it a second thought. Some clothed had grown too worn. Some I had been so afraid to ruin by wearing, so almost new they went into the give away pile. Some clothes stopped fitting my body, others were back-up purses and shoes, that I never got around to; just-in case items where the case to wear them never arose before my new style was born. Each item I once saw as precious, as essential to fulfilling my identity as someone who fit in and had desirable qualities (like smart, sexy, bad-ass, sensible), all so easily discarded and replaced. I realize, that just like Barbie dolls, Alana without her belongings is boring, hard to create a story for, my imagination (#4) needs my stuff. Now suddenly, I saw so clearly why Mae Yo always said to use self belonging to get at self.

The Home Owners Association fees at my friend’s condo went way way up and she and her husband could no longer afford to live there. She knew she needed to sell, sooner rather than later, but she absolutely refused to consider a listing price less than $X00K. The reason: $X00K is what she believed she would need to buy a new house in cash, in a new neighborhood where she liked the school district, that had at least 3 bedrooms and that was less then 5 miles from her office. Mind you, my friend doesn’t actually have kids yet, but she and her husband were thinking about it. Also, her company was considering relocation; they would know in about a year if the offices would move.  Finally, because of some old credit issues, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t qualify for a loan, though she didn’t actually call any lenders to ask. Her realtor wanted her to be flexible, to let him price based on other recent sales in the neighborhood and to be open to whatever offer came-in, but she refused.

As I’m listening to my friend tell me all this, I am thinking, ” she is crazy!”; she has a real problem right now, she can’t afford her house, and is letting a set of arbitrary conditions, about a future possible scenario, get in the way of her solving her current issue. I tried to point-out that there were really a lot of unknowns in her ‘new house scenario’; what with the not actually having a new property in mind yet, not having kids yet, that schools are constantly changing, credit worthiness changes over time and based on lenders, the fact that housing markets go up and down, the option of renting for a while versus buying, job moving, etc. But she held firm — in her imagination, $X00k was the number she needed to sell this house for to keep her future housing options open. That amount would cover the most expensive option she might want, in the most expensive neighborhood she might want, so it was safe. It was what she needed.

• I know that it is possible I can prepare and then have what I need
• I know that it is possible that I don’t prepare and I then don’t have what I need
• I have spent time accumulating evidence that it is possible I  prepare and still don’t have what I need (like clothes for funerals and gala and interviews) and I am starting to believe
• But for years I have taken for granted a basic ‘fact’ — If I don’t prepare there is no chance in hell that I will be ok, that I will have what I need.

This is my control monster, rearing its hydra head in a fun new way. But just the other night I walked down to a new restaurant in my hood for a bite. I was shocked by how packed it was, sorry I didn’t make a reservation, but I went in to ask about a table anyway. The hostess told me I had come at just the right time: It was 9:15 and they consider reservations no show after 15 min, so I got the table for someone who had 9:00 reservations , who had prepared, but didn’t come. Here I was, unprepared but still OK. Its a start, something I am being mindful to notice, to collect evidence on. I need to train myself to understand this quadrant of possibilities, otherwise I will never let go of preparing no matter what the cost.

We had a meeting at work to talk through a multi-team project, but I was feeling a little philosophical and started talking about a ‘big picture’ problem I hoped the project might solve — poor communication in my workplace.  I gave around 3 examples to illustrate my ‘poor communications’ point, one of which involved a mistake by the Marketing Team, made months ago,  communicating survey results. I left the meeting feeling like I had brilliantly ‘illuminated’ everyone. The next day however, the response from my co workers told a different story…

The Marketing Director came to my office super ticked-off: She did not think we had a ‘communication problem’ and felt like I kept ganging up on her over 1 mistake the team made months ago.  Next came my boss, who sat me down for a stern conversation about how lately I had been moody, aggressive, eager to highlight institutional problems and offer ‘solutions’. My boss said she didn’t know what was wrong with me, what had changed; but as she talked, I started to digest her words and see quite clearly what was up, i.e., what my wrong views were that were leading to some really ugly behavior…

So, a little background: My organization was searching for a new Executive Director to replace the woman who started the place almost 40 years ago. The process, from my perspective, felt very closed door, hush-hush. As Trustees and select staff were busy formulating a plan and interviewing candidates, I felt left out. Here I was, an employee of 8 years, so dedicated and hard working, but no one was filling me in on the process. No one wanted my opinion. I feared that everyone was looking at me and thinking, “useless little Alana” (wrong view call-out: if they thought I was smart/useful/valuable they would have asked my opinion). So I was overcompensating, trying to give my opinion on anything I could, trying to be heard, to prove I can solve problems, I can help, I am valuable.

Ughh,  my ugly little me monster was rearing its head again; this time it wasn’t about my family or friends, it was amount my job. I thought something totally not about me — picking a new director — was about me because I believed the job, the organization was mine. After all,  in my own opinion, by my own definition, I had been a good employee for so long so it was only logical that I deserved to be part of picking a new leader. But, is a job really ‘mine’? Does it need to act as I expect? Is there a treatment I deserve in that job no matter what I do or no matter the circumstances? A job is just like ‘my peeps’, it is not bound by my demands or needs or expectations. This is not about me at all.

Fun little bonus fact, just for extra evidence — picking a new executive isn’t even part of my job description, it is a role that falls to the Board. According to the Organization Charter they have a right to go about it anyway they see fit.

But wait, there is more…Haven’t I already considered the topic of valuable before? Is it something I can own/be? Is a behavior, like being a problem solver, valuable in every situation? Is it going to have the effect of making people appreciate me and think I am smart and useful to be around? It turns out, this story answers all my questions for me — I was so busy trying to to prove my value as a problem solver I was creating new problems, angering co-workers, troubling my boss and generally having the totally opposite effect of what I was going for.

Fun little bonus fact, just for extra evidence — I have pages of examples in my notebook that no ‘solution’ is 100% roses. ‘Solutions’, all actions, have a positive and negative side — being a ‘problem solver’ is really the same as being a’problem creator’.

Deeper still, I had an unspoken assumption to all of this, that my involvement in picking a leader would yield a good outcome. Now, as I sit in NY writing this old story, still so sad I ever left Cali, I know for sure that my decisions –my imagination of what will yield a good outcome — sure as hell don’t guarantee a good future. In my mind, if I wasn’t involved in picking, we could end up with a bad leader who would ruin the organization and if we had to fold, well what then, because so much of my sense of value, worth, was tied to my job at my organization.

Underlying all of this was one of my oldest wrong view tendencies, going way way back to the Homeless Alana story: A chain reaction in my head that got me from point A to point Z, for sure. In this case I believed that without my involvement a bad leader would be picked and if the bad leader was picked the organization would fold and if the organization folded I would be lost because my ultimate value as a person was tied to my job.  If you take each of these in turn, they are singular wrong views and then when they get combined whooh, there is a doozie; a wrong view so grim, a threat and an Alana-as-employee-self that both felt so real, that I was acting like a total $%*& to the people and organization I was trying to ‘save’.