In this edition:
and that's enough 'cause the latter will be necessarily very, very, very long!
**The Complaint & Observation Department
1) As one who works in academia, I should be sensitive to plagiarism. I plead aging forgetfulness for not giving proper credit to long-time friend Patti (nee Nuttycombe) who many years ago, pioneered The Deborah Chronicles concept with her regular issuance of "Memos from the Nuttycombe Nerve Center," a witty and hilarious accounting of her life. Some of you may have actually been on her mailing list. This also reminds me that my Aunt Adah -- formerly of show business fame as joke-telling, violin-playing Virginia Richmond -- used to write letters to the family that always included amusing passages, my favorite being the time that she accidently dumped the entire contents of her purse into a foot bath at the doctor's office. This still makes me laugh out loud.
2) Several Faithful Readers have pointed out to me that my Chronicles are lacking precise information about my romantic life, and that Deborah Does Dating often makes for the best stories. Well, there's a reason for that. The subscriber list contains a couple of Used-To-Bes, a Wish-They-Were or two, and maybe a couple of Wanna-Bes. Just being delicate, a trait that I understand is not often associated with me. But I will give y'all a sketchy update.
I am no longer "seeing" Tommy, the German met on a plane. In a masterful display of English comprehension, Tommy one night turns to me and says, "I want to be just friends." (Which actually looks as if it will happen.) Later, as I drove home and the shock began to wear off, I had to laugh wondering if this stock male phrase is ubiquitous around the world, or worse, in some special Guy Phrase Book. Imagine a classroom full of foreign men saying in unison, "You are the most exciting woman I've ever met." "I'll call you soon." "I've been busy." "I need my space."
There is not currently an UberBeau. I am entertaining the attentions of a few (one of whom is actually in the same zip code -- can I get some credit for that?! But, er, do I get points off because he just turned 30?) but no one yet has distinguished himself through either word or deed as being of long-term promise. When you read the major story of this Chronicles, you'll see why the timing is right.
Is that sufficient grist to feed the hungry masses for now?
Now for the main feature...
**Rain, Red Coats, & Revelations
It was a miserable rainy, dark day (it was a dark and stormy night?!) in March, just a few days after my 46th birthday. (A Thursday, Patti) The situation at work had taken a few new twists and turns that distressed me. I was despondent. As I walked away from my office in the rain, donned in Aunt Adah's hand-me-down red cashmere coat -- a coat I purposely wore to counteract the dreariness of the day -- and clutching a red umbrella, I began to review my options. I thought about the changes at the University and how I might make them work for me. I thought about the interview I had just had at Yale and wondered if that might be the answer. Then it struck me -- I don't have to do this. I DON'T have to do this. I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS! I have enough smarts and contacts that I can be a consultant. I don't have to do this. I can quit my job! I can walk away. Nobody says I have to do this. I have lots of money saved. I can leave, walk away just as I am doing now. My pace quickened. I began to think about how to make it work. I will engage the School of Management dean to help me think through the business plan. I will get my niece Amanda to handle the graphics/brochure/website. I'll go through my rolodex and start sending out notices of my availability. Over and over I thought to myself, I don't have to do this. I don't have to do this. The freedom was exhilarating and something for which I have "prayed" for a long time -- clarity -- came wrapped in a red bow. I don't have to do this. I'm gonna FLY!
Quite some time ago -- over a year? -- I had bought two pieces of poster board. I taped them to a door in my home. On the top one, which had fluffy clouds floating on it, I wrote in large hot pink letters, "What Are Your Dreams?" On the plain bottom one, I wrote, "What Are You Going to Do About It?" I laid a set of magic markers by the charts for whenever inspiration struck. The top chart got filled in quickly, and every day as I walked to the kitchen or the bathroom, I was greeted with admonishments -- "Teach" "Help children" "Redistribute wealth" "Find a place that feels like home" "Travel widely" "Adventure" "Make music central" "Passionate kisses" "Shared love" "Integrate brain and emotions" "Don't work 9-5 for the rest of your life" "Use brain for doing good" and more.
But the bottom chart lay fallow.
That rainy night I was scheduled to meet two colleagues from the office for dinner, but I determined since they both report to me, not to mention a peep. It was tough focusing on the moment, and tougher containing my excitement. After dinner, partially in atonement for such, I decided to go for a long swim. With each lap, I concocted another possibility. I could -- stroke, stroke, breathe -- look into becoming a doula (birthing assistant). I could -- stroke, tap, 32, push off -- really pursue that clothing line I've been thinking of. I could -- kick, kick, kick -- pursue a fellowship in some foreign country. I could -- stroke, stroke, 44, push -- get an adjunct appointment teaching at the University. I could -- pull, glide, pull, glide -- take a big trip. Everything on the chart began to come to life.
I arrived at home still elated and sat dripping on the floor to write on the empty bottom chart. I filled it in minutes -- "Quit Job" "Start Forward Thinking (my consultancy)" "Figure out the minimum amount of money I need to live, add money in for travel, and only work that much" "Talk with a career counselor" "Get a good financial advisor" "Keep heart open" "Remember to Fly"
Things have evolved considerably from that rainy Thursday. I did meet with a career counselor who assured me that my fractured desires are fine. She told me that I was in fact a Ben Franklin -- one who is not content to stick with one thing and learn it well, but rather wants to pursue many fields and strive for excellence in all of them. She was the first to suggest that maybe I should consider a sabbatical. At the moment, it seemed impossible -- naughty even -- are you allowed to DO that? Just not work?! I already had allowed myself what I thought was a very daring thought, to quit a permanent, well-paying job to work on one's own. But to not work at all?!
Indeed I have quit my job, my last day will be September 29th! I told the Vice-Chancellor, it is not that I mind working, I just don't want a job. Already two folks on campus have inquired as to my consultancy availability.
But rather than consultancy, the immediate vision has evolved into an extended sabbatical filled with travel -- with no end date in mind. I didn't get to this point directly. First I had to wander through thoughts of volunteering for an international NGO, fellowships in far off places, working overseas somehow. Finally, on a day I can't remember precisely, I decided that I was just plain going to travel.
That tiny seed planted by the career counselor is now a field of wild flowers. Long I have wanted to travel extensively. I have a Travel Wish Book, organized by continent, and filled with pictures of places I must go to. More recently, I have been very envious of twenty-something friend Wayan's worldwide adventures http://www.wayan.net/ consoling myself with thoughts that such adventures are the province of the young. I slowly began replacing that thought as I considered same-age friend Jeannette's adventures http://www.beaumonde.net/index.htm, and that many of my same-age friends, indeed friends of all ages, have incorporated international travel and adventure into their lives -- among them Jenny, Len F., Kim and her husband Allen, Kris, Colleen, Gary, Chantale, and Nancy P. It emboldens me to know that my life can be likewise.
This window may never be open again. All the things I have considered negatives have suddenly become my ticket to freedom -- no children who depend on me, no husband whose job or personal desires I have to take into consideration, no house to worry about or pay for. Add to this other factors -- I have no debt, lots of savings, a parent whose health doesn't need my attention yet, my own good health. The window is wide open and it's time to fly out of it.
I can't remember the last time I took a journey, not just a trip, a journey. Maybe 1977?! after I graduated from college and I did a cross-country trip. Before that, Europe, in 1972 after graduating from high school. Who says you have to wait until another life-marking event, such as retirement, to take a long journey? And this girl has also let go of the thought that I have to wait to take this journey with my yet, unfound soulmate. Besides, maybe he's on the road.
The plan is this. Quit work at the end of September. Use October, November, and December to research and plan the Big Trip, divest myself of personal possessions, store the rest, take mini-trips, and maybe take a few consultancy jobs to pay the rent. Then in January I am off to the following places, order likely to be determined by climate considerations: Hawaii (get the kayak ready, John!), the South Pacific, New Zealand, Australia, Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Philippines (get the guest room ready, Chantale!). I will come back when I'm done. Maybe after 2 months, I'll be tired of travelling, maybe after six months. Maybe I'll stop and teach English for awhile, maybe I'll fall in love and linger in a few places, maybe I'll end up do consultancy work for a foreign university. I have no idea and I don't feel pressed to know. And when I come back to the US, I'll figure out that part, too.
In the meantime, please, please share your travel knowledge with me. I gratefully accept any and all connections, travel tips, sightseeing must-dos, and restaurant reviews. And take a moment -- suspend reality -- and consider meeting me someplace you've always wanted to go. I AM serious.
Do I have fear? Yes, some. But do I have doubt? Not a shred.
This girl's gonna fly.
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