Robin | Farewell Stranger

On Steve Jobs and Living the Life You’re Meant To

October 6, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

There’s a For Sale sign on our lawn.

The listing for our house will officially appear tomorrow, but the sign is on our lawn now.

“How can you make a decision like this so calmly?” a friend asked a couple of weeks ago.

Calm? I’m not calm about anything right now (and evidently I wasn’t entirely prepared for that sign to go up).

I’m not calm about the stuff going on at work, and I’m certainly not calm about the fact that there’s a FOR SALE SIGN on the lawn of the house we’ve lived in for almost 9 years – since before we were married, since before we had our dog, since way before Connor was born.

As far as the stuff that happens next – big move, new house, new job – I’m excited about parts of it and, frankly, in denial about the rest. I’m almost 37 years old and I have spent most of my life living very near my parents. I’ve got really good friends here – pseudo-family kind of friends – I don’t want to leave. Both of those things make me want to barf.

But here’s the thing: I can’t stay here. Oh sure, in the literal sense I could. But in the larger-than-life philosophical sense, I can’t.

Last night as we cleaned and tidied and did the last few things needed for a photographer to come and take pictures of our house, I saw the news that Steve Jobs had died. I was sad; more sad than I would have thought, actually, but I’ve enjoyed revisiting his words of wisdom. Such as:

“When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: ‘If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.’ It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

I think this is genius. We always hear, “Live each day as if it were your last,” which is romantic and inspring but totally impractical. If I knew tomorrow would be my last I’d hop on a plane for Hawaii. I’d go out for dinner with my boys and overeat to an insane degree and then have the most decadent dessert on the menu. I’d spend hours sitting by the ocean. I’d write a really, really long letter to my son. Some of those are things I could do today – or any day – but I can’t do them over and over and savour the moments as though they were my last. Life doesn’t work that way.

The brilliance of the above quote by Jobs is the “too many days in a row” part. Ignoring the little voice that says, “no” is how years go by until we realize we haven’t done what we want to do in this lifetime.

I certainly don’t have it all figured out and I’m not entirely sure what I want to do next. I know the general direction, but not the specific vision. According to Mr. Jobs, that’s okay:

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

So I had my little cry about the For Sale sign. I’m not saying I won’t shed many more tears by the time this process is done and I’ve left my first house and the city I grew up in, but in my heart I know those things are secondary.

Wanna buy a house?

Linking up with Just Write – The Fourth:

Filed Under: Hard things · Tagged With: admissions, anxiety, firsts, living life, perspective

I Believed Once

October 5, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I believed once.

I thought I could make a difference. I followed my heart and used my voice and put it out there. I worked. Hard. I worked through lunch. I worked late, came home, had dinner, and worked some more.

I wrote. I wrote and wrote and brainstormed because I believed. And because I believed I put my whole heart in to my work.

The path my life has taken over the last five years has made me who I am now. Some of that evolution is on this blog, but so much of it is because of my work – the absolute passion and dedication I put into it, the opportunities I’ve had, and the people I’ve worked with.

My work changed who I knew I could be, but it’s the evolution chronicled here that has changed who I am. It has changed what I believe.

It has changed what I believe I can do.

I believe I’ve done what I can do in my current job, especially because recent changes have taken the work in a different direction. Despite knowing this is what I must do, I do it with a heavy heart. I played a big part in building something bold, and because that something will inevitably change – partly because the organization has changed but also because that’s what things do – I feel as though I’m saying goodbye not only to a job and a team but to a piece of myself. When I pack up my desk the box containing my pictures will also contain the shadow of my contribution, exiting the building with me dressed in both regret that things must change and an attempt at preserving something that meant something to me.

It’s time for me to move on.

We’ve spent the better part of the last month sprucing up our house and on Friday a For Sale sign will appear on our lawn.

On a date in the not-too-distant future I will write a letter to my boss and sign a piece of paper giving my house over to someone else.

I’m leaving the work and the people and the organization that changed how I think about what work is.

I’m leaving the first house we owned, and the house I brought my son home to.

I’m leaving the city I grew up in, where my parents – and my son’s grandparents – are six minutes away.

I’m leaving who I used to be in order to find out who I can become.

Who I think I am now.

I believed once.

And I’m choosing to believe again.

Sunrise. A new day in the Canadian Rockies.

Linked up with:

Filed Under: Happy things, Hard things · Tagged With: anxiety, community, family, firsts, hope, living life, perspective, The Universe

Building Stronger Families, One Mom at a Time

October 4, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I remember the exact day I found Postpartum Progress. November 10, 2010. It was a Wednesday.

I can’t remember exactly how I found it, but I think the site actually found me. That was before I started this blog. It was before I discovered #PPDChat. It was before I really started talking about my experience with PPD. But someone – one of my Facebook friends – posted a link and I clicked on it.

All of a sudden everything seemed a little better. I looked at the definition of postpartum depression and the 6-things series and I noticed, throughout, the tone of acceptance and support and hope. Finding that site turned me around and pointed me in the right direction, and at the time I had only a glimpse of how totally amazing it is.

That day, I sent an email to the site’s founder, Katherine Stone:

Katherine,

Just a quick message to say that I came across your site this morning via a link on Facebook. I immediately grabbed it and sent it to myself to read later, and I’m so glad I saw that one message pop up before I missed the chance to really notice it.

Your site is incredible, and it’s found its way to me at a very opportune time. My perfectionist personality (oh, how that is a factor for me!) has made it very hard to reach out for help. I finally did that nearly a year ago and overall am much better, but this has been a rough week and I’m realizing that I’m not quite there yet.

I’m not sure where this journey will continue to take me, but I’m very grateful to have found your site as I think it will be a good resource for both me and my family.

Robin Farr

Katherine sent this to me in response:

I’m so glad you found Postpartum Progress, and that it has been helpful. It is so normal to have rough weeks in the process of recovery. Just keep doing what you are doing – I am so happy that you reached out for help. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other!!

The content of that short reply sums up everything that is amazing about Katherine and the work she does.

When I created my mama Twitter account and started blogging, I came across Katherine again and have come to know her as a totally supportive, incredibly dedicated woman. When she started her Daily Hope emails earlier this year, I signed up immediately. For months they gave me what I needed to face each day and while I no longer need them, I still get them. A dose of love and support every day – how could I not want that?

I get a lot from Postpartum Progress, and today I’m hoping to give back.

October 5th is the day when more children are born each year than any other day. Today is Strong Start Day.

I’m going to quote directly from Postpartum Progress to explain the significance:

Only 15% of all women with perinatal mood and anxiety disorders ever receive professional treatment. This means that each year hundreds of thousands more women and their children may suffer from the negative effects of untreated PPD and related illnesses for the rest of their lives.

Postpartum Progress will change that with your help. We are developing a compelling national awareness campaign for postpartum depression, as well as new and improved patient education materials (the kind new moms won’t throw away!), and new uses of technology to reach suffering moms no matter where they are.

On October 5th, the day when more children are born each year than any other day, I am asking you to do one of three things:

1) Make a donation to Postpartum Progress. Any amount is welcome.

2) Ask at least 2 other people who love you and know what you went through – people who’ve come to know that postpartum depression is real and that all women deserve to have access to the best information and help – to make a donation today in your name.

3) Refer us to contacts at organizations that can help us with our work.

If you are financially unable to donate, send us your prayers or moral support so that we may find the right people to help us make major change.

Today’s the day. Please help us build stronger families, one mom at a time.

Filed Under: Better world, Motherhood, Postpartum depression · Tagged With: community, depression, hope, spreading the love, we're not alone

I’m Not Alone, You’re Not Alone

October 3, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I’ve never struggled with depression.

Except… Oh wait. There was that time in the last semester of my first year of university when I spent a lot of time in bed. A LOT. I stayed there and didn’t want to get up, though I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Then when I was in my 20s, I got sick of feeling sad and hopeless all the time and started logging things. What I ate, exercise, weather – you name it, I put it into a carefully crafted spreadsheet, and it was all mapped against my mood. Eventually the sum of the things that made me feel better – getting enough exercise, sunlight, eating well – led me to feel better overall.

Those times, I wasn’t diagnosed with depression. I never even had a conversation with a doctor about it. I always hated that label. Oddly, though, I remember being asked to fill out a self-identification form for a previous job. “Are you a visible minority?” No. “Are you Aboriginal?” No. “Do you have a disability?” A very small voice in my head piped up. “Does depression count?” I knew it was there, though I was never willing to admit it. (I checked no.)

The excerpt above is from an essay I wrote about depression that appears in anthology called Not Alone: Stories of Living With Depression, which is now available on Amazon. (I know! On Amazon twice in one week! I’m feeling lucky.)

The book is edited by Alise Wright who, in my experience since submitting my piece for consideration, is smart, kind, and funny.

Here’s one of the endorsements for the book:

“When our journeys take us down dark and unfamiliar paths, we don’t need leaders with all the answers; we need friends with open arms. Not Alone brings together the voices of many such friends in essays that are alive with wisdom, honesty, humor, and grace. What makes this book so powerful is the diversity of the stories shared within it. No two journeys through depression are exactly the same, and yet no one needs to travel alone. What a joy it is to see such an impressive assemblage of smart, talented, and creative writers speaking words of hope into the world!” —Rachel Held Evans, popular blogger and author of Evolving in Monkey Town.

Isn’t that great? It totally makes me want to read the other stories.

I never thought I’d be writing this openly about Depression (with a capital D), but this book is about exactly what I know, since starting this blog, to be so important: making people feel less alone.

An Honest Review of Something Inside of Me by Chitoka Webb

October 2, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

A couple of weeks ago, about halfway through a book I had agreed to review and unsure what to say about it, I did a search for other reviews. I was really interested to hear what others said, because the description of the book had appealed to me when I first read it:

“The inspiring journey of how one woman’s journey through poverty and debilitating illness catapulted her to the halls of power as a successful businesswoman… In Something Inside of Me, Chitoka [Webb] shares her poignant, funny, and inspiring life story, from her humble beginnings in the Nashville housing projects to her rise as the CEO of several companies.”

I scrolled through a handful of others’ reviews and every single one was a short summary of the plot – pretty much exactly what’s on the book’s back cover – and a sweeping statement of how inspiring the book is. And I have to be honest: it really made me wonder if those people actually read the book. Or maybe they did read it, didn’t like it, but didn’t want to publish a negative review. This perception certainly didn’t change after I contacted someone on Twitter to ask if she really liked the book. I didn’t get a response.

Part of the reason I asked is that I really wondered if perhaps I was just being too critical. But here’s the truth: I didn’t like the book.

When I see words like “poverty” and “poignant” and “inspiring” I expect to read a fairly dramatic tale. I presume the author has overcome major adversity and will write about what inspired her to push past it.

Chitoka Webb was raised by a single mother in the Nashville housing projects and admittedly didn’t have a privileged childhood. Based on her descriptions, however, I’m not sure “poverty” is an accurate description of her situation.

She did suffer an illness as an adult that caused her to lose her sight, but this side effect was temporary and she did regain it (though I in no way mean to disregard how scary that must have been).

I was hoping the story of a woman slightly younger than I who had become the CEO of several companies would redeem the hyperbole of the book’s beginning. As I kept reading, however, I realized the “companies” were businesses she started herself. The focus of the story is on a barbershop she owned and operated in Nashville.

Though I think describing this book as “inspirational” is a stretch, Webb’s spirit and character do shine through. She clearly believes in herself and has strong values as a business person. I do admire her willingness to make a go of a business she was passionate about and give her credit for focusing on providing better service than her customers could get elsewhere.

Want to read it for yourself? It’s not a long read and I’d really, genuinely be interested in hearing what you think. I was provided with two copies of the book – one to give away and the (gently used) one I read – and I’m going to give away both. You can enter via Rafflecopter below.