Four years as a blogger

It’s November, one of the darkest months where I live; the days are short and it tends to rain a lot.  The light seems to get sucked right out of the air down into the wet, black asphalt of the streets and sidewalks, and the lack of light can sometimes really get to me.

But November is also a bright month for me in many ways. It is the birthday month of a person who is very special to me, and it marks the anniversary of my blog. It was in November four years ago that I posted my very first blog post. Can you believe it? This is The Opting Out Blog’s fourth anniversary! Time sure flies, whether or not you’re having fun.

I really feel like I’ve come a long way in four years. When I started blogging, I had just received my PhD, and like now I thought, wow, I really have come a long way. I had learned so much while working on my PhD. Whole new worlds had opened up to me, which, I might add, doesn’t make life easier or less complicated, but it sure makes life interesting. Realizing that issues and situations that have seemed black and white and pretty much straight forward before, in reality are much more complex and problematic with no easy answers, can be troubling. It means that you can no longer shrug your shoulders and comfort yourself by saying that’s just the way things are, because it isn’t that simple. A friend and colleague of mine once likened it to swallowing the red pill, and I have to say, that’s exactly how it feels sometimes.

That’s the thing with knowledge, the more you know, the more you realize that you don’t know. The more you know, the harder it is to find easy answers. Not a comforting thought, I might add, in these times of global upheaval and destructive politics that we’re seeing in many places.

But just like four years ago, I again feel that I have come a long way. I remember the first time I posted a post on my blog. Being quite a private person, the thought of writing a text and making it visible to the world was literally terrifying. I wrote a draft of my first post, showed to my husband, and we both agreed that it needed rewriting. I rewrote it and showed it to him again and this time he liked it so with minor edits I posted it. I almost hyperventilated as I pressed the ‘publish’ button, but it got a lot of positive responses, especially from my own network of friends, colleagues and acquaintances, for which I am forever grateful. The following week I wrote the next post and showed it to my husband again. He read it and liked it but carefully said that if I was going to start blogging a lot I needed to be able to write posts without him checking everything first. The following week I posted my third post without anyone checking it and although I broke out in a sweat again, I didn’t die and I started to trust my judgement. What I did though in the very beginning, was imagine my sister – who is no nonsense and whose opinion I really value – reading it and if she (in my mind) bought it I would post it.

So there I was, blogging every week. The response I got was tremendous, but I was no blogger. I just couldn’t identify. Blogging for me was something completely different and what I was doing was rather publishing a weekly column on topics related to my research. I think it must have taken about a year before I finally looked myself in the mirror and admitted that yes, I was a blogger. I think by now I’ve even added it to my Twitter profile, so you can see, I have really come a long way!

Four years later, whether or not I’m a blogger doesn’t take up a lot of mental space anymore. What I do think about, however, is what I want to do with my blog. I’m not a believer in changing things just for the sake of it. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? But I’ve had ups and downs with my blog and have noticed that as I’ve evolved and grown into the person I am today; my blog has evolved with me. For a while I posted less frequently. It coincided with a time when I was trying to figure out what I really wanted, where my opting out and in journey would take me next. Now I’m posting more regularly again, and I’ve noticed that my writing has taken a more personal turn – something that would have terrified and horrified me four years ago!

But I’m just going to go with it and see where it takes me. I don’t want to overanalyze my writing and let this blog continue being an outlet for me where I can write on my own terms and not take into account editors, reviewers, journals or publishers. Also, writing blog posts often helps me figure out where I stand regarding both my own life and happenings on a larger scale.

What I’m trying to say is thank you for being there for me during these past four years. I value all the comments and responses I get – more that you know!

 

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Make no mistake

Last week I got to visit the painting studio of a very talented Finnish artist, Fanny Tavastila (check her out on Instagram, I really love her paintings: @fannytavastila). Seeing her space and hearing her talk about her creative process was both interesting and inspirational, but it also gave me food for thought.

One of the things she talked about was how she deals with mistakes. Like when she adds something to a painting and changes her mind, but can’t conceal it completely. Or if something happens and leaves a mark, which can’t be corrected.

What she does is simply let it be a part of the painting. The reason is that any mistakes are part of the creative process and the painting simply wouldn’t be what it is without that process. So she doesn’t worry about it too much. After all, it’s also part of what makes that particular painting unique. It’s part of the story.

This really resonated with me, because isn’t this also true for people? I have made plenty of mistakes in my life – we all have. But when asked what I would do differently if I could do it over again, I’m not sure that I would do anything differently. Even though there are situations I really wouldn’t have minded doing without, without those mistakes I wouldn’t be who I am today. I mean to be honest, the bigger the mistake, the more I learned about me and the world around me.

Besides, I didn’t plan on making mistakes. I was just acting to the best of my knowledge and ability, because that was who I was at the time. Now, luckily, thanks to my mistakes I know better.

But this is actually a problem in society and in many organizational settings today. We aren’t very forgiving of ourselves or of others, and we tend to strive for perfection. We worry about making mistakes at work, even though we are bound to make them if we take risks or develop something new. And we cannot learn new things if we don’t try.

So on the one hand we talk about the learning organization, and on the other hand we don’t really have a lot of patience for mistakes. Although risk taking is seen as a strength, mistakes are seen as a weakness. That, if anything, is a contradiction.

Another thing people often see as a weakness, is asking for help or admitting that they don’t know something. The other night, my husband and I were having another one of our kitchen table discussions, and he was telling me about an article he had read about corporate leaders who struggle when they don’t have all the answers. They often feel alone because they don’t have anyone they can ask for help.

My spontaneous reaction was, well what about their team? That’s why experts are recruited, to solve problems and provide answers to difficult questions so that ‘we’ as an organization can figure out what the way forward is. No one should even expect the leader to have all the answers, but still, apparently, they often don’t feel comfortable asking for help and admitting that they don’t.

Think about it. If you can’t support each other as a team, should it really be called a work community? I mean, to me it doesn’t really sound like a community at all, it sounds more like a random group of people.

But the same goes for others too. It is not only leaders who have trouble admitting they don’t know in the fear of being perceived as weak, or dumb, or just unprepared. What I have found though, is that if you’re wondering about something you should just ask, even if you’re worried it’s a stupid question. If it isn’t clear to you, it probably isn’t clear to others either. And no matter what others may think, the one who actually asks finds out, while the one who doesn’t just continues not to know.

Put your money where your mouth is

Yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life. That’s what it felt like. And Wednesday marked the end of an era. After almost six years with my previous employer, I have changed jobs. Or actually I’m still doing the same job – my research project on men opting out – I’m just doing it at another university.

It feels like a really good move for me. I’m a sociologist and for the first time since I got my PhD, I’m going to be surrounded by sociologists and social psychologists and that feels really exciting. I’ll be meeting new people and finding new opportunities for collaboration. In that way, changing universities before the end of a project is not a bad idea at all, even though it wasn’t originally part of the plan. It will give me the chance to prepare for my next step before I’m actually there.

However, my decision to move was not only based on thoughts of the future. What triggered it all was actually an unfortunate chain of events that made me realize that I simply couldn’t continue working there anymore. The routines (or lack thereof) and practices were so detrimentally against everything I stand for. I make a living researching, writing, and talking about sustainable work solutions, workplace wellbeing, and work environments that are respectful of the individual and their needs. I’ve made it my mission to change organizations for the better, so you can imagine the cognitive dissonance of working in an environment that just didn’t live up to these standards. It felt hypocritical.

Well, I reached a breaking point and decided it was time to put my money where my mouth is. I realized that it was time to expect a sustainable and respectful working environment and culture not only for others but also for myself – for me as an employee.

It hasn’t been easy. Change never is, even if it is good change. In fact, the other day I read something that really resonated with me. It was a post about decision making and how making good decisions can be painful but that you have to push through. And it has been painful, it really has. Especially the limbo I was in before I was able to actually move.

But I know it was the right decision for me. I now look forward to just getting on with it, and to being able to look myself in the mirror and be proud of actually walking the talk.

Shhh… can you hear that? That, my friends, is the sound of me getting back into the driver’s seat!