Another biopsy. A surgery.

Fatigue, bone-wearying fatigue, the kind where you barely make it work every day and want nothing but sleep.

A test. Another biopsy, followed by a two-week lapse into the border on despair.

A visit to an internal specialist, a work-up, a second opinion, allergy testing. A surprise ending from the second opinion – there’s nothing to worry about, the first doctor’s approach was aggressive and had severely overtreated me.

Just like that. Release. A clean bill of health.

The soul-tired feeling fell away within a few days… it took some time to sink in, but once it did my heart felt so light. Finally, finally my shoulders relaxed. I think they had been hunched for months, the constant companion of sad and tired eyes.

The actual tired feeling, it turns out, is the result of chronic untreated allergies. I am allergic to dust mites, mold, cat hair, trees, soy and wheat. I started medication immediately.

It’s only been a day, but already the constant fog has lifted. I have energy. Energy I wondered if I would ever have again – energy to blog, to read, to talk, to do laundry – even after a full day of work.

I have energy.

It’s true that you don’t know how valuable things are until they are gone. The nights I would cry out of frustration and exhaustion were more and more frequent. I had, ironically, spent a year trying to figure out how to not pack my schedule, only to find somewhere in the middle that I couldn’t do what I had been used to doing even if I wanted to.

But now it’s back. I have energy.

And I get to start again. I can start from here.

Photo credit: basegreen via Flickr.

Gumption (noun): Enterprise [readiness to engage in daring or difficult action], initiative

What a great word. I love looking up words. Did you know that the better your vocabulary, the better you are at communicating? It makes sense when you think about how many wonderful words there are out there that describe exactly what you’re trying to say.

Back to gumption.

My love of the word started the first time I saw “Working Girl.” When the main character finally moves up from being a secretary, the CEO tells her, “Gumption, Ms. McGill.” And in “The Holiday,” when the main character has her moment of triumph, she announces, “I think what I’ve got is something slightly resembling… GUMPTION!”

Gumption. Initiative with a side of enterprise.

It’s one of those words you stick in your back pocket for motivation. It’s a one word inspirational quote. It’s the word you whisper to yourself when  you just don’t feel like doing anymore. It’s the backbone when someone is telling ‘no’ when you need a ‘yes.’ It’s the extra boost you need to take a good idea and grind out a business plan while everyone else is watching “So You Think You Can Dance?”

Gumption is what will set you apart, no matter the generation, the industry, or the gender.

Photo credit: MassDistraction via Flickr.

HollyHoffman.com: 3 Social Media Offenders Creep Into Late Adopter Markets

NeoviaSolutions.com: Avoiding Social Media Less of an Option for Businesses

Check out my social media thoughts here. And check out my brand-spanking new company, Neovia Solutions. You’ll see lots of great stuff there for businesses and organizations trying to “get” social media.

People fascinate me.

I enjoy looking and listening to them.

I like analyzing their exteriors and predicting their actions.

I love imagining their backgrounds and guessing their goals and desires.

One of the aspects that have interested me enormously lately is love and attraction.

What it means to people, what they really look in another person, what they do to “triumph” and what they hide away.

Infinite variables affect the way we act towards relationships, but I’ve seen one attitude present in most people (especially young people), one that I think we should re-evaluate.

That attitude is expectancy. The idea of love as a sure step. The problem is this:

Expecting to be in happy relationship is a recipe for conformity.

I’m obviously not saying that being in a happy relationship is impossible, nor I’m saying that we shouldn’t try to be in one.

We just shouldn’t expect it.

We still put “being happily married” as one of the obvious steps of life, after graduating and having a job. As if we should logically go through it at some point. There’s a clear problem with people saying things like “I want to be married by the time I’m X.” Even though words like destiny, karma and soul mates may sound nice, I don’t think they prove anything. We shouldn’t put our hopes in them.

So, conformism kicks in. We are stubborn people. It’s human nature, you know? To prevent our “plans” from changing, we force ourselves to fit our context into our goals, instead of doing the opposite. We reject the idea of solitude as a possibility (and ending) for many of us, so we invent and create a fantasy that suits our dreams.

The result? A lowered standard relationship with either a short-life span of Hollywood moments, or a permanent situation filled with regrets, unhappiness and broken dreams. This is no the case for every relationship out there, but I’m sure it’s the case with most of them that end badly.

Maybe it’s because of pride; maybe it’s ignorance - the reason is irrelevant. What matters is that we are not very fond of embracing randomness as the main factor and ruler of our lives.

Look, here’s the thing: As opposed to choosing your major or career direction, you’re only in charge of 50% of the decision when it comes to relationships.

That’s OK. Accept that.

Otherwise you’ll get stuck with the other half looking to settle, and not the half looking for you.

My first PSL of the season. I take it with soy.

It’s buttery. It savors heavily of nutmeg. And it’s only available a few months of the year.

I watch the wind blow outside with an overcast sky where there’s usually baking sunlight. Never mind that it’s still in the 90s with 100% humidity. Today is the first day of September. And it’s the first day of pumpkin spice latte season. A big deal for coffee-lovers everywhere.

Every year on September 1^st, Starbucks rolls out its premier fall latte. It’s only around until January or so (I think). Anyone who is a fan of the PSL (that’s an industry term) gets word of the release and is certain to celebrate with their own as soon as humanly possible.

I’m not sure what it is about the PSL that drives other lovers to rush out on September 1 to partake, but for me it signals the return of my favorite season, as well as something much bigger.

Like so many other driven busy-bodies, I have a hard time slowing down and taking in my surroundings, enjoying the day for what it is, and truly being in the moment. Except when I sit down with a hot pumpkiny latte.

For example, I’m sitting in a Starbucks right now. And despite my recent health problems, some seriously active allergies and an uncertain 3-6 months ahead of me, all I seem to notice is the buttery, spicy latte at my side, the Smiths on my headphones, and the grayness of the sky.

What’s your pumpkin spice latte?

From Lantzilla via Flickr.

One hopes to never get disappointing or shocking news, but life is difficult. We’re often dealt more than we think we can handle and are seldom equipped with the right tools to do so. At least, that’s been my experience. We can spend a lot of time spinning our wheels and engaging in unhelpful activities. All we really want after a while is to move on. Here’s how I deal with the first stages of a crisis and get to a place where I can begin actually dealing with the problem.

Note: For those who read my blog, you know that I underwent a surgery I thought would put an end to this year’s health problems. Last week I got word that it didn’t and that I could be in for a longer process than I thought. While it’s not serious, it’s emotionally stressful. I went through all kinds of emotions and wrote all kinds of blog posts. Finally, I realized the only advice I could rightfully give is how to survive the first days of shock and how to move out of it, because that’s what I wanted to read.

Let it out.
It’s natural to be upset, disappointed, angry, frustrated and/or shocked. I was all of these things. I spent pretty much the first four hours oscillating between anger and tears. I always know I’m going to go through this, so I just let it come. This isn’t a stage to short-cut. It will come out sooner or later, and it’s been my experience that later is worse.

Make the space to regroup.
You can’t just jump back into life and work like nothing’s going on, as tempting as it is. In my case, I got my bad news at the end of the day so I took the following day off. I needed the opportunity to get enough sleep, move at a natural pace through my morning and deal with any leftover emotions from the previous day.

Fill up your cup.
While I’m not religious, I believe that we all have a spiritual aspect to ourselves. I tend to think that we have spiritual reservoirs in which we make deposits and withdrawals. After a big withdrawal, it’s necessary to make some deposits. I call this “filling up my cup.” I spend time with family, watch a funny movie (laughter is a high-dollar deposit in my book), read meditation books, and hang around people who I think really have the life thing figured out. I always walk away from them feeling like they’ve rubbed off a little bit.

Process. Process. And process some more.
Emotions are flying, stress hormones abound. I’ve never been able to get a hold on a single sensible idea for more than 10 minutes when something like this happens. After every emotion possible has run out, then start processing them. Examine each emotion individually. There’s usually more than one factor playing into your emotional state. For me, anxiety over my job and leftover emotions from my past were showing up around the real problem. Separate your emotions out, deal with the ones you need to. I can toss out the job anxiety and regrets from my past. They don’t need to be here right now. It’s much easier to deal with one thing at a time.

Research. Ask questions.
Research does not equal Googling your condition. Good lord, no. If you want to send yourself to the padded cell, go for it. Find a legitimate source and start researching your options. Talk to a professional in the field and ask questions. It took me 5 days to ask my doctor what the heck all this meant. From there, I could start researching.

There’s a comfort in knowing. Fear of getting an answer we don’t want to hear can keep us from asking. It doesn’t make the answer any less true, unfortunately. Knowing exactly where I’m at allows me to figure out where I’m going. Think about it: if you asked me for directions to my house, my first question would be “where are you coming from?”

Make a battle plan.
I like the phrase “battle plan” because it suggests you are planning for a fight. And that connotes that you aren’t about to give up and let life steamroll you. This makes me feel empowered, as opposed to overpowered.

Start with the things that you can control. For me, it’s exercise, diet, and stress levels. So my battle plan pertains to those things. If you set yourself up to battle something you can’t control, you will lose in so many ways.

Detail your battle plan on paper. In what ways are you going to attack your situation? What are the things that can take a back seat in your life for a while? Who can you trust for good support? In my case, I write down my diet, my exercise schedule, and how I’m going to reduce stress. It’s important to write it down because at some point you’ll say either “I’ve got this down, I don’t need help” or “screw it, it’s not working anyway.” Been there, done that. It doesn’t work. If you’ve got it, you’ll forget it, and if you think it’s not working, then you should reevaluate, not throw it away.

Make a plan for when you lose your head again. You will probably become an emotional mess again at some point, so write down the process by which you got out of it this time (like this post!) so you can refer to it later. Write down the things that made you feel better (family, funny movies, coffee with friends) and the things that didn’t (isolating, eating comfort food, imagining the worst). When you are emotionally stressed, it’s easier to follow some self-tested steps than trying to figure it out all over again.

A friend of mine says that if you aren’t moving forward, you’re moving backward. At the very least, remember to keep moving forward.

Over the past year-and-a-half, a lot has changed. I’ve changed, and my knowledge about social media has certainly grown. And I have to admit that I’ve felt even a little embarrassed about my once-adequate blog, especially when I built a new blog site on WordPress, which looked so clean and was so user-friendly.

And so, I finally grabbed Andrew Norcross and set out to redesign this blog. It’s given so much to me since I started it, it seems only fair to give it the platform and style it deserves, a style that reflects what it is I do on this blog.

I hope you enjoy the new WorkLoveLife as much as I do.

Of course, I’m guilty of several of these posts myself.

I remember Ryan Paugh from BrazenCareerist once wondering in a post if he was going to feel embarrassed by something he wrote 10 years later (I couldn’t find the link). His conclusion was that he probably would, and I concur. Even just a year later, I look back at some of my own posts and shake my head. I’ve changed my mind about some of those sanctimonious posts I wrote. (Maybe I’ll change my mind about this sanctimonious post, too at some point.)

There’s nothing like a good round of cancer scares to put things in perspective. As I’ve been forced to relax and let my “workaholism” tendencies fade into the background, I’ve figured out a few things. One is that the stress in my life came from the label I gave myself as a “workaholic.” I have found that I’m not actually working on less projects now, but that my mind has released the “have-to, have-to, have-to” thoughts that kept my mind racing even when I wasn’t working on something.

I’ve also watched my boyfriend run his distribution business over the past few months. He travels 3 hours away to tend his business weekly, aside from his local branch. He has a business in the sense that he’s not freelancing or consulting or designing websites – he has an office manager, employees with health insurance, customers who demand his time, and expenses that would make me cringe. He experiences a kind of daily stress and time demands that we Gen Y I-run-my-personal-brand types can’t imagine. I don’t care how many nights you slept in your office waiting for your start-up site to go live.

So here’s the deal. You’re not a workaholic. And you’re no different from the young-go-getters of the 1980s. (Please watch “Working Girl.” I mean, those people were always on and always “working.” We’re not the first people to discover taking our jobs seriously.)

We’re simply at the work-hard-to-get-ahead life stage. Like I said, we’re not the first. We’re supposed to be working hard right now because later, we’re going to want to take a break. I know, I know. You luuuuuuhhv your job. Great. For now. Later you will find that you luuuuuuuhhv being home to cook dinner for your kids. The other thing is that “getting ahead” looks different today than it did 20 years ago. Our parents worked late hours, took extra projects on, and went to night school to get higher degrees and certifications. We still do all that stuff, just now we’re also tending to our blogs, websites, overall web presence, personal brands, etc.

We don’t have a “life” to balance yet.
We’re in our twenties. We don’t have kids yet (for the most part), and we might have girlfriends or boyfriends, but not the kind of relationships that require time, energy and work to maintain because they simply haven’t become that important or demanding yet. We’re not trying to figure out how to make our 10-year-old marriage last because we see the love of earlier years fading. We don’t have children pulling us away from our “me” time. Jesus, you’ve still got time for the gym. Ask a working mom if she’s got time for that… if she does it’s at 5 a.m. while everyone else is still sleeping. That is what work/life balance is – not trying to schedule time in for a trip to the bar with friends.

We regard our life activities like they are work.
We blog because we love it, and yes, it gets us ahead in our careers, but that’s not why we keep at it. Blogging, networking, going to social media conferences and volunteering for organizations isn’t your job. We do it because in our day and age it is the new softball team. I spoke on a panel at an economic summit this week and I tried to stretch my mind to figure out how this will advance my career. My boyfriend pointed out that I did it because I think its fun. Oh yeah. That’s my LIFE, not my WORK.

We haven’t suffered the consequences of workaholism yet.
You probably haven’t even been burnt out yet, let alone laid off from your first job at a start-up, driven to real addiction, been divorced or suffered stress-related health problems. When you get there, remind me again of how much you OMG luv luv luv your job. Because I want to know if it was worth it. (The only one I haven’t done is divorce. And no, the 80-hour work weeks from the start-up that went under were not worth it. I’d happily give back the crow’s feet those earned me.)

We’re still seeking definition and identity with labels.
I wrote two weeks ago about my struggle to let go of my self-image as a go-getter, a woman on the make, etc. Elysa Rice seconded my “who am I if not a…” idea. We’ve been students forever, and now we’re joining the workforce and struggling with this notion that we need a label. We don’t. It’s a personal revolution in thought that occurs when you realize that you just are and that being a “workaholic” or a rising star or a go-getter is just a label that you try to live up to.

We like to inflate our own self-importance.
I’m really talking to myself as much to anyone else here. I think we inherently have some kind of egoistic tick that makes us trump up our own value. Gen Y doesn’t do this anymore than any other generation… we just have a syndicated platform by which to do it, in my opinion. When I declared myself a workaholic with no respect for this work/life balance nonsense, I was always rushing around in a state of self-importance trying to do everything I “needed” to do. My reality was that when I backed off, nobody suffered as a result of my loss in super-productivity, in fact no one really noticed.

I’m definitely not the oldest of my blogging compadres, but sometimes I feel like my life experiences have aged me a little. I guess there’s a part of me that wants to save my fellow twenty-somethings some of the pain I went through learning things the hard way. But then again, I didn’t listen to the people who tried to warn me. I figured I was different. I was unique. I wasn’t.

But hey, maybe I’m wrong. What do you think – are we really workaholics?

I buried my feet in the sand and thought about what she was suggesting. “All I’m saying, Holly,” she said, “is that you might want to take it a little easy. Maybe you just slow down this year. Don’t make any big changes. Don’t move, don’t change jobs, don’t start any companies, don’t take on anything extra besides work. Just be for a while.”

Who wouldn’t want to be told to do less, I wondered. Who wouldn’t want the opportunity to be lazy? And there it was. Right there. Lazy. Kicking ass at a full-time professional job, being in a wonderful committed relationship, writing two blogs, and founding a professional organization is lazy? I’ve always pushed myself to be more, better, faster. If I wasn’t the only person doing it, I’d better be the youngest person doing it. If younger people were doing it, I was doing more.

I’ve been teetering back and forth on whether or not the women in my family have bodies that are just not equipped to handle stress, or if we put an extraordinary amount of stress on ourselves which affects our bodies. Two of my aunts have battled cancer, breast and brain. My mother was emitted to the E.R. with chest pains for the first time at 42. The pre-cancerous cells my surgery and biopsy had revealed were most likely the result of stress, my doctor warned me in her office.

I had my first nervous breakdown as a high school junior. I was working part-time, volunteering in an at-risk school, going to school full-time, taking 4 Advanced Placement courses, and taking a night class at the local college. I crumpled like a ball in the living room when my mom scolded me over the laundry. It didn’t really slow me down though. By my senior year I was going to the local college full-time in place of high school classes, with the same extracurricular schedule. Who was I if not all those things – a star student, an impressive application/ resume, a good employee, a girl on the make?

So maybe that’s why I wasn’t surprised when my doctor eyed my chart after the second round of biopsies and said that the past three months of low-stress living hadn’t made a difference. Hadn’t I spent most of those three months stressing out about how to maintain my immense checklist of “low-stress” things to do? Wasn’t it only the last few weeks where I let myself go to whatever the results were, left it in Something Larger’s hands?

One painful, frightening surgery later (which I had um, postponed by a month so I could launch a professional organization), I sat next to my equally driven mother and took her words of advice. She knew. She was still pushing and climbing at 50. “It’s always there,” she said of ambition. “It’ll be there in a year.”

Who am I if not a ladder-climbing employee, a twenty-something entrepreneur, a moonlighting freelancer, The Person in Town Who Knows About That, a woman on the make?

I guess I’m a woman taking it easy.

Tempering my ambition and drive is something I’ve got to figure out in my life, otherwise this thing, this cancer is just going to keep coming up. And the risks are just too great to ignore.

And while I made up my mind on the beach that day, it wasn’t until today I had to act on it. I turned down a $500/mo. freelance gig. And it was in a type of work that I love and have wanted to do more of. I even initially agreed, but backed out after a long talk with my boyfriend and lots of prayerful contemplation this weekend. It was probably one of the hardest things, besides the surgery, I’ve had to do this year.

My greatest fear in giving up this year to maintaining the life I already have is that I will miss out on something, some opportunity, some chance, some big life-changing event. Then I realize that I just went through the life-changing event. I came head-to-head with so many fears over the six months I endured biopsies, waiting periods, immune system boosters, and surgery. In the end, if I don’t learn how to slow down and enjoy what I’ve built, I’ll miss out on so much more.

The past 6 months have been an emotional rollercoaster as I faced the possibility of cancer and potentially damaging my child-bearing abilities. I had an amazing amount of support, not only from my loved ones and friends, but also from my friends in the blogosphere.

Let me say first that there is no wrong way to support a friend. But a health crisis can send a person into an emotional tailspin of anger, fear and loneliness. Here are a few things I learned along the way.

Don’t say: Lots of people go through it.
When I heard this (which was often since lots of women do have this surgery), it made my feelings seem insignificant. While it is soothing to some degree to know that you’re not going into completely uncharted medical territory, it is the first time for you and it shouldn’t be trivialized.

Do say: Here’s the contact information for someone who has gone through it.
I can’t count how many times people told me they knew someone who had the same surgery and how she was fine. But that didn’t lessen my fears. Great. Someone, somewhere has come out OK. Doesn’t help.

A few days before my surgery, a woman called me and said that she’d had the same surgery, although it had been 20-someodd years since. She told me exactly what she went through, from beginning to the end. That was the first time I felt comfortable.

So much of what we fear as humans is simply the unknown. The more firsthand information I acquired, the more at ease I felt. After my surgery, a few more women stepped forward and said they’d had it also. I wished that they had done so earlier.

Don’t say: There are people who’ve gone through worse.
I heard this a few times, and when I did, it made feel like total crap. Not only was I (still) facing surgery, but here I am feeling sorry for myself while children in Africa are dying of hunger and disease. Thanks for the helping of guilt – it goes great with my anxiety and fear.

Do say: Let me share my experience going through something worse.
Unless you’re the person who has gone through something worse, I wouldn’t touch this one. If you can’t offer sympathy, don’t offer guilt in its place. If you have faced a bigger challenge, then please share your experience.

An older gentleman friend of mine faced (and beat) cancer three times. Another girlfriend beat a brain tumor. Two of my aunts have in recent years survived breast and brain cancer. Having watched these people walk through their ordeals with grace and talked to them about their fears, where they found strength and courage, and how they coped, were invaluable lessons.

Don’t say: Keep your chin up.
The thing about clichés is that we don’t hear their meanings anymore. Our mind sort of glosses over them because we’ve heard them so much. Besides, who wants to keep their metaphorical chin up when they feel a punch coming?

Do say: Keep your shoulders back.
This is a challenge you’re facing, and you should be in full-on attack mode. It was hard to feel self-pity, sadness, fear, or weakness when I remembered to physically round my shoulders back and down. It made me feel strong, powerful, like I was ready for a fight. It’s sort of like the moment a runner laces her shoes up – her body is ready for the run. By keeping my shoulders back, I was ready to face my challenges head-on.

Don’t say: Don’t worry.
I know this is what people say when they’re searching for the right thing to say and it just isn’t coming. People who love us desperately want to see us feeling better, faster. And it seems like anytime someone said this to me, they were willing it with all their might to take the worry away from me. But someone in a crisis is going to worry. I felt like people were trying to shut me up sometimes, like closing their eyes to an ugly house in the neighborhood.

Do say: Tell me what you’re worried about.
I realize that my loved ones don’t want to think about the worst-case scenarios anymore than I do, but I needed to talk about what I was worried about. Would it be cancer? What if I can’t have children? What if something goes wrong in the surgery?

One of my tricks for beating fear is naming the monster. I ask myself what the worst-case scenario outcome is. That usually takes the fangs off a fear. I needed to be able to do that with someone close to me, to get it off my chest. My moods were so effected by my fears, that I would burst into tears at the breakfast table. “Don’t worry” ain’t gonna fix that. Talking it through will.

Don’t say: Everything will be fine.
This is a lot like “don’t worry” in that I think people say it when they have nothing else to say. I usually just sort of shook my head in agreement or mumbled a thank-you. It just doesn’t really say anything.

Do say: I’m praying for you, or I’m holding you in my thoughts.
While “you’re in my prayers/thoughts” sounds kind of clichéd, this is probably one of the things that warmed my heart the most and actually made me feel better when people said it. It told me that they cared, were thinking about me, and were offering to do the one thing they could actually do – pray for my well-being or send “good vibes” my way.

Even when I was an atheist, I welcomed people’s prayers in a crisis. I took a class in college about the mind-body connection and read about studies in which cancer patients who had an assigned prayer group praying for them survived at higher rates than control groups that did not have a prayer group. I believe in the power of lots of people sending positive thoughts and wishes for you into the universe.

My rollercoaster ended on Monday when my doctor declared me cancer-free. If I can learn to remove the stress in my life, I’ll (hopefully) never have to face it again. But that’s another post…

Photo courtesy My Lyn via Flickr.