Ripping Out The Seams

Anyone who is familiar with sewing knows exactly what this 3-inch tool is. It can cause both epic destruction and the massively cleansing feeling of correction all in one fell swoop. For those of you not familiar with sewing, this is what you use after you're sewing along, blissfully unaware that you are sewing something incorrectly, or that your sewing line looks terrible on the other side of the fabric. It's like an eraser for sewing. You sew like crazy, locking in your stitch, moving along, and low and behold, you put the fabric pieces together wrong, or your dart has a pucker. There is nothing quite like ripping out all of your work, and having to start gain. It's both cathartic and painful.

Depending on how off you were, you can end up with a pile of thread like mine. However, mine wasn't a mistake. I was ripping out the seams of an old dress I was recycling into mask material. You have to start somewhere. It's either this, or cut it out, and when it comes to seams, you'll save your hands and eyes with this tiny tool. Ask my closest family and they will tell you my favorite kind of turn is a u-turn. Well, my favorite kind of sewing is seam ripping. I do it often...and usually not because I want to. I'm both directionally challenged, and a bit air-headed. The two combined make for some really funny stories. But I digress...

Not to get too cheesy with this whole "life imitates art" thing, but I have a way of seeing something simple in everyday life, and relating it to bigger things. It's kind of my M.O. It's what fuels my writing, and how I can relate big ideas to almost anyone, in a way that makes sense. So, let's dive in.

You know that feeling you get when you're headed down a path of destruction, but you thought it was really awesome when you started out? Maybe "destruction" is too heavy a word. How about "headed down a path that is going somewhere you didn't intend to go"?  It's not a good feeling. You might have some inkling about it along the way, but as the end gets closer and closer, you realize this is not what you want. You start looking for an out, a brake pedal, an emergency release button, anything to get you off this track and on another one. 

I once drove from central PA to three exits before the state line, before I realized I wasn't in Philly. I did the same thing previously in life, going all the way to Gary, Indiana before I realized I had gone the wrong way on I-91. I started out in Lawrence, Michigan, and was headed to Kalamazoo. Several years ago I was making a baby outfit for my niece, and it had really difficult pleats. I had to redo them so many times, I went and bought sew-in tags online that said "this took me forever", and sewed it into the back seam of the dress. I was once in a relationship with someone I knew was a bad idea, but I excused it a million times, and thankfully got out before a baby or a wedding happened. I quit a job once, when I started getting harassed and bullied at work. I knew I should leave, but I stayed over a year after that, because I wanted things to get better. It only hurt me mentally and emotionally in the end.

You see, we all have things that relate. We know when things are off. We all know in our gut when something isn't right. We might choose to ignore it, but we really do know it's there. However, when it comes to making decisions that are more long-term, sometimes we start on a path, headed in a certain direction, and then all of the sudden it's like, "Wait a second! I didn't mean for this to happen!". Subtle compromises, little things start changing, and before you know it we're way off track...or not even on the track.

I've had to use a seam ripper on my life a few times. It wasn't pleasant. All that hard work, time, energy, money, friends, you name it. Ripping it all out, leaving shreds of evidence everywhere to be cleaned up and discarded. And then the re-work begins. It's a little frightening at first. Will I mess it up again? What if I'm/this relationship/friendship/etc not strong enough to stand another mistake? What if I get off track again?

Well, my friends, the great thing about ripping out seams, is it doesn't tear the fabric, it just leaves you with a clean canvas, and a little bit more knowledge for the next run. No one's saying you won't mess up again, or that things won't get a little rough, but maybe you're a little wiser each time, and the seam ripper is less of a necessary tool, and more of a quick correction to a smaller problem.

Take care and don't give up. Tearing down and building up can be painful, but the end result is something beautiful.

Marci

You Could Always Make Masks!

I saw a post on LinkedIn recently, from a CEO, celebrating someone who had taken the Covid swish down the employment toilet, and had risen out of the proverbial sh*thole, by making masks as a new entrepreneurial business. Don’t get me wrong, Crafters Unite! You’re practically a god if you can make anything right now. Taking money online, and mailing your goods through overpriced postal carriers is practically all that is keeping this country’s furloughed and unemployed opportunists going, these days! People are learning new ways of doing old things, and new things altogether, by the second! With all this excitement generated from crafts turned business opportunities, it’s a wonder why anyone would still find themselves in a hardship over being unemployed. Why be said, when they could always make masks?

That was sarcasm, by the way. A real heavy dose of it!

I know it sounds great, but some people can’t even color inside the lines, much less make a line with a stitch. Some might see helping their third grader with a craft project as far worse than standing in a board room full of executives about to give a presentation. We’re just not all made the same. In most cases, we have spent out lives learning and growing in our field, and are suddenly finding ourselves without a daily purpose and joy they once had in working.

I spent all day today, rummaging through my craft bin for fabric pieces, elastic, and anything I could use to make masks. My grandparents want to go to the grocery store, and yours truly has a sewing machine and no job. It’s the best combination for a well-played guilt trip. I am a willing participant in this plot, however, and have answered the call! After a couple of failed attempts, I got into a groove, and was excited to see how quickly I was getting masks made. Unfortunately, mask production wasn’t the only thing moving quickly.

After about 10 hours of mask making, I looked at the pile of finished work, and counted them up.
Eleven. I made eleven masks. 

There goes the idea that making masks would produce any kind of lucrative income.

Granted, I took a break to go to the grocery store, and the occasional bathroom break, but the rest of the time was seated at the sewing machine, sewing, marking, then ironing, sewing, then ironing some more, and so on and so forth. For ten hours. Looking at my work, it’s not even that good! I haven’t sewn a thing in years! But when disaster strikes, you do what you need to. Thankfully, I’ve been hoarding craft supplies for as many years as I haven’t been making anything, so I should be able to at least make a decent amount of these, but still...I miss work.

I miss logging in and doing productive things to help businesses succeed. I miss collaborating with business partners and colleagues. I miss the thrill of problem solving, and delivering finished products that make me happy, and make my business thrive. And I’m not doing that right now.

Sure, I’m doing everything I can to keep learning, taking training courses, and brushing up on skills, while applying for jobs, moving, becoming homeless, and staying up to date with the unemployment office. But for what? And more importantly, for how long?

I know many of you may be like me, wondering when things will pick up. They will. You might be wondering when life will get back to some kind of normal. That will happen too. But we’re all just waiting on when. When can we start being ourselves again? We’ll take the lessons this pandemic has dealt us, and make some changes to our lives, but ultimately, we want to be who we are both in and out of the workplace.

Be patient and resilient!

Hang in there my fellow toilet swishers! We will rise from under the rim, and soon be back at it, doing what we love!

Marci

That "B"!

I'm a half second away (two weeks and one day, to be exact) from being done with my undergraduate studies at Grand Canyon University. This chapter of my book is coming to an end, and I couldn't be more excited! Yesterday was supposed to be graduation day, but that was postponed for 6 months while we deal with this pandemic. However, the thrill of the end, and the coming of closure is still very present!

When I was eighteen, the world was my oyster, and I couldn't find my way out of a shoebox. Too many cliche's? At that age, I certainly was one. I had no clue what I wanted to do, or what I wanted to be. Technically, I was grown up enough, and had certainly been asked enough times, "What are you going to college for?" But in reality, I was a scared little dreamer, who had no idea how to mange the new world she'd been handed.

In high school I loved music and art. Anything related to those two things I was not only good at, but absolutely loved. I wanted to go to art school and be an interior designer, but when I ran out of credits to take the architectural drafting class I wanted to take my senior year, and after I was told repeatedly to pick something else, because "art doesn't pay the bills", I decided to change things up. Instead, I would be a CEO of a major corporation...or maybe just own my own business. And I would start this journey by going to school in...Rhode Island. There wasn't anything I couldn't do. And that was a problem.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a total right-brainer.

With my head in the clouds, not a penny to my name, and a list full of dreams and possibilities, college was the worst, yet only choice I could see myself making. And, so I did. Over and over again, switching schools, majors and living situations. I worked too, because that's what poor kids do, and that's how you eat and pay rent.

After landing a job at a private university on the East Coast, I was finally set to graduate. I poured my heart and soul into learning at night, and working full-time during the day. I was committed. I was ready to graduate within the year. It was so close I could taste it! Then tragedy struck, and my life did a complete 180 in a matter of seconds.

I ended up living most of the next year in a wheelchair, and occasionally hobbling with a walker. Doctor and therapy appointments took over my calendar instead of classes and work. Exercising my body and learning how to walk again took over exercising my brain and learning new things. Sitting in a classroom wasn't even an option, and working was even further from it.

After eight long years, I was able to slowly start working again, still using a cane to get around, and going to therapy and training appointments. But the idea of school had not left me, and online school was becoming more popular. Most programs still weren't up to par with that of in-school classes, but in my case, it made more sense physically.

I decided to try a class at community college and see how it went. Of course, I was instantly hooked (again). The brain loves to be challenged, and mine was no different. But, what would I do? At that point I knew I couldn't finish at the school I had been at previously, so I took another look at my local options for degrees. Still landing in the same study, I took a few more classes over the next couple of semesters, while now working full-time. The only thing I had was an Associates Degree and a pile of student loan debt just waiting for a new degree title.

It wasn't long before I maxed out my transferrable credits, and because I still didn't know what I wanted to major in, I took a break. I reached out to Grand Canyon University, as well as Arizona State and University of Phoenix. While I like University of Phoenix, they didn't offer the program I was looking for at the time (I can't remember what it was), so I eliminated that as a possibility. I applied for Arizona State University, and was immediately accepted into the W.P. Carey School of Business. However, once I was accepted, all communication came to a grinding halt. I felt as though I had slipped into a crack somewhere, and left to fend for myself, and figure things out. I was so unimpressed, but continued trying to reach whomever I could, to get some help. Still nothing.

I applied at Grand Canyon University, and was also accepted. And thus began my two-year admissions story with Brian Bailey, my admissions counselor from GCU. I don't know if he's the most patient man on earth, or just really, really cares about his students, (it's the latter) but almost every semester for about two years, he made it a point to contact me, and encourage me to finish my Bachelor's Degree with Grand Canyon. Sometimes I avoided his calls (sorry Brian), but he always challenged me to make a decision about my future. His consistency and hard work paid off.

Finally, on September 24, 2018, I started my first class with GCU, with a clear path to completion, a great admissions support team, and a determination that this was the beginning of the end, of my 24-year undergrad degree program.

Every student sets out with amazing goals. We have the best time management skills (in our heads), and the best study habits (that we usually never use). Those grades start rolling in, and that hard work shows. It's intoxicating. Yes, I really am this smart. Yes, someone is finally noticing. Yes, I own this. I earned this. I am this!

And then with some students, and especially those of us older students who also work, life can get pretty challenging, and throw you some curves. In one semester I was in another state, quit one job, started a new one, and completely change my work schedule from nights to days, and celebrated the winter holidays. I was stressed beyond measure, and my body didn't even know what day it was. I was stretching my brain as a new employee by day, and again for school, and in a difficult class to boot. I was handing in late assignments, and was struggling to keep up. It showed too. As I neared the end of my class, I saw my point tally, and knew the inevitable was about to happen.

There it was. My first "B".

Up until that point I had a steady run of A's in the grade book. A "B" just felt like a punch to the stomach, but I knew I had earned it. There wasn't anything worse than knowing I had done subpar work, especially as an honor's student. I really struggled with this one grade, as I knew I could have done better. Maybe, should have done better. But ultimately, I had to let myself off the guilt hook, and move on with things. I didn't have time to feel bad about the one "B" I got, because I was already full into my next class. If anything, I let it kick me in the pants a little, and help me keep on track.

I look at my 3.82 GPA, which will probably be a 3.84 when graduating, and I think to myself, "Wow Marci! This is awesome!" And I also think, "You could have done better." While I won't psychoanalyze the reasons behind this, I knew that both statements were true, but ultimately I had to cut myself some slack. Some people can do homework at work. With the exception of one time, I never did. Some people cheat, or have other people help them with homework. I never did that either. Yet some people have it much harder than I, and still manage to rock a high GPA, to which I have no explanation, only recognition and appreciation.

Life throws us some doozies, but in the end, it's our job to move past the small disappointments, and into the opportunity on the other side. Whether it's a change of thinking, a business opportunity, or just an opportunity to be a better person, we have that choice to move ahead, and through our present circumstances.

The job I started when I got my first "B", I've now lost, due to the current pandemic. The degree I worked so hard to get, can't be celebrated when it was meant to be. Celebrating will be done at home. The application of what I learned will take on new meaning, as there is no "job" to use it on. However, if there is one thing I know about myself (and I know a few things), it's that I don't give up. I don't give up searching. I don't give up learning. And I definitely don't give up trying. This is me. This is how I roll. Maybe you're like that too.

In some ways, life has come to a bit of a full circle. I find myself with a new oyster in my hands, a new world of possibilities, wondering what's about to come my way. It's exciting! Will I figure out where I'm meant to go? Will I get there? Will I be okay?

The answer is an emphatic "Yes!"

Make the best of your journey, and celebrate all your victories. You never know where life is going to take you, but if you're willing, it will probably take you exactly where you need to go.

Marci