"Help! I have to plan a virtual work party!"
A comparative study of woes and ecstasies, gifts and allowances.
Your letters, my replies
Dear Emily,
I have two current desires: to go on a fruit-picking work vacation in Hawkes Bay (it's fruit harvest in the southern hemisphere) and to become an extra in a film on the New Zealand West Coast, which pays NZD200 a day. I have a third desire, but I can't remember it—maybe just to have time to order a second flat white at the cafe, and read just one extra section of my book, looking out onto the subtropical gentility of Crummer Road.
But instead, what I mainly find myself doing is editing (straining my neck) and after the workday chasing my (almost) two-year-old daughter around the block and into the hedges by the cafe OhSo. In the hedges yesterday, she pawed a half-filled Heineken bottle and looked up to me, eyebrows raised, knowing I'd shake my head "uh-uh." Also, I find myself overreacting to my son, ten. The other day, at the supermarket checkout, he spilled a carton of blueberries, there for all the other rush-hour shoppers to stomp on, pop pop. My neck tensed, and I could summon no calm response, only something muddled and anxious.
How to return to the place of serenity, poetry, and mindfulness when responsibilities overtake your life—even though joy is harvestable in those responsibilities?
Yours,
Reflecting
p.s. I recognize that these are first world problems with the potential to offend.
Dear Reflecting,
Oh, I am not offended by your problems, even though they do seem mild (sore neck plus yearning to be in a movie shot in the South Pacific).
I notice that you do have fruit picking opportunities, only it’s blueberries instead of apples.
The other day when my 13-year-old daughter wolfed down the lunch I made her, rebuffed my conversational gambit, and rushed back upstairs to her lair, I imagined for a moment that I also had another daughter, one who adores me and with whom I am very close and relaxed. Just imagining this daughter for a second made me realize a bit more how I would act with her. I would never inveigle her. I wouldn’t nag. I wouldn’t probe her for thoughts and feelings and info. She and I would have the ability to be together in the same room in wordless peace, an agenda-free quietude. She would know that I am here for her if she needs me. We would share a smirk at how dumb school is and she would know I am on her side but still expect her to do her best. She would know that I contain depths of feeling and interesting wisdom and fun, but that those are parts of myself I would never be anxious about demonstrating. In short, I would be cooler. She would be more comforted.
That was a relief to realize! If this imaginary daughter and I are like this together, I can bring those same attitudes and habits to my relationship with my real daughter. Even if it doesn’t always work, it’s nice to have the ideal in my head, comforting me and guiding me.
For your neck, I recommend you do a Yoga with Adrien video every evening. She has ones especially for neck and upper back tightness.
As for impatience with your blueberry dropping son, just take it day by day. Forgive yourself (it might help to beg his pardon) for past overreactions and proceed optimistically from there. “Muddled and anxious?” So what? You didn’t hit him, or lash out in some unforgettable way. It sounds like you are despising yourself, comparing yourself to an idea in your mind that you haven’t brought to life yet. But if we can dream it, we can probably become it. Imagine that you already have brought that more mindful, serene parent to life in yourself. What would he have felt when the berries went pop, pop, pop?
And what about a serene and loving father for YOU? What does that wonderful father say when you whisper to him, “I don’t like the way I reacted. I wish I had said something better?”
Love,
Emily
Dear Emily,
Help! I have one week to plan a virtual office holiday party for a staff of 40. There is no budget. Everyone is sick of Zoom. It is too big a group to just hang out and chit chat with mugs of coffee we made ourselves. I want it to be fun and stress-relieving and uplifting and connecting and an acknowledgement of how hard everyone's been working during this very rough period.
Thanks for any ideas,
Zoomed Out
Dear Zoomed Out,
How terrible.
If you don’t have the power to cut bonus checks (the ultimate acknowledgment for hard work), then threaten them with a Zoom office party and then cancel it. Everyone will be thrilled!
Have you ever noticed that for every pleasure achieved, there is first a risk taken or a cost paid or discomfort endured? There is no such thing as an office party that just swathes the overworked staff in warm fleece while slowly pumping eggnog into their veins, without asking them to even lift a finger or open their eyes or say anything. You know?
In the old days (last year), when we went somewhere for a party, there was a lot of grooming and travel and social anxiety that might have been required, but we still did it, because the payoff was nice. (Parties! Flirting! Getting tipsy! Meeting people!)
Now brushing our hair and clicking a Zoom link is exhausting? That must mean there is ZERO payoff for investing even that slight effort.
Here are two nice ways to improve Zoom-party ROI:
1) Have a celebrity surprise guest who speaks or sings (maybe the company president or Mark Walberg? When Marshall was doing text management for the Biden campaign, they had a team call once that Bradley Whitford from The West Wing joined as a surprise. He thanked everyone for their hard work. It was really cool. You got to see his apartment and how well he’s aged. Or how about surprise guests who have been positively impacted by the staff’s work? They could come onto the Zoom and say thank you.)
2) Have something real delivered to the real houses/apartments of all the people on the call, during the call. (Gingerbread, pears, potted Christmas cactuses, “enjoy two extra vacation days" vouchers, white elephants gifts…)
Wishing you a Happy Hanukkah and very Merry Christmas!
Emily
Coming Next…
The worst possible holiday gifts for everyone on your list, how to tell if you should go blonde, and ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas reimagined.