child, children, family, happiness, kids

The wonder of toes

My niece, Lorelei, has recently discovered the wonder of her toes, timed just after she discovered the excitement of rolling over all on her own. It’s the little things. I was considering this during my slog to work this morning, inching along in the rain for an hour and 15 minutes. And I thought about Lorelei playing her little game of rolling over from side to side and then getting those tiny wiggling toes into her mouth. She is excited about the discovery of life. And that made me wiggle my toes a bit too, and smile for being able to do so.

That’s the wonder of children – everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is an exciting adventure to them. The gift of fresh eyes. So whether we have kids of our own, or in our family, or have friends with kids, or volunteer with kids, or have a job that involves kids, it is a gift to be around them. They’re teaching us, at every moment, about happiness and contentment and the magic that is all around us.

family, happiness

Operating on happiness

This time of year, I think of my dad. He would have been 77 this past week. Occasionally, someone will ask me what my father passed away from and I end up pausing a bit, trying to think of how to summarize all of his ailments in one short sentence. Truly, I think he died from unhappiness. And that started me down the road toward my intense interest in studying happiness. 

Recently there have been a number of academic studies and pop culture books on the subject. I’m currently reading Geography of Bliss, the story Eric Weiner’s year-long trip to learn what makes people happy in different parts of the world. And the results are surprising because everything that we strive for in the US apparently makes no difference. Money, stability, success in careers. Even love and long-term relationships. It seems that what matters most are dreams, and their pursuit. 
Now over 15 years since my dad passed away, I know what he didn’t understand is exactly what Weiner didn’t understand either before he set out on his trip. Happiness is not something to be had. You can’t grab onto it so it’s no wonder that it’s such a slippery creature. Happiness isn’t even a journey. Happiness, simply is an operating principle. Some companies choose lean manufacturing. There are a lot of people trying to clean up their lives and live in a more eco-friendly way. These are operating principles, too: At every moment, the participant considers how to make choices, every choice, within a framework, with an operating principle as a guideline for separating good options from less-than-good options.  
So if I think of happiness the same way I think of Green and lean manufacturing, and I believe truly that it is the best way to run my life, I would look at options and make the choice that does the most to increase happiness. Even if in the short-term the choice is more difficult or forces a new way of conceptualizing my life, the long-term result will be worth it. And I hope now, wherever my dad is, he knows that, too. 

career, dreams, family

Dragon, Fish, and Chameleon in the Middle

Recently, I read a magazine advertisement by PricewaterhouseCoopers. Please put aside that this is a boring big 4 (or is it 5 or 6) accounting firm. The ad features a woman (in accounting?), Gail Vennitti, a principal at the company, explaining how her placement in the family line up – middle child – make her well-suited for her job. This is exciting to me. I am also a middle child, and most of the time the connotation of being in the middle is not good. To complicate matters, I was boring in the year of the Dragon, under the zodiac sign of Pisces, and on the Day of the Aerialist. I am by all accounts a dreamy-eyed wandered. Yikes! Who the heck am I???

Gail takes a unique spin on her middle child attribute. As middle children, Gail and I have at one time or another had to be all things to all people. We have to negotiate in a variety of situations – sometimes were the older child, and sometimes we’re the younger child. We are forced to be empathic; to operate in an ever changing world. We fight to be individuals, though recognize the value of being part of a group. In short, we grow comfortable with ambiguity at an alarming rate. Like chameleons we change ourselves to suit our situation, never once being disingenuous. We change when change is needed.

To complicate matters, my Piscean sign and Chinese year make me equally interested in art and science, with an intense imagination and a fierce sense of love and loyalty to causes and people I care about. I have passionate opinions, and love beautiful things. I have a somewhat split personality – there never seems to be an end in what interests me. I can fit in with a batch of surgeons, and in the same breathe address a crowd of cartoonists.

I used to be embarrassed by all of this. I wondered why I could never seem to have one defining interest, and people nearly always seemed confused by my dual-nature. As I get older, like Gail, I am beginning to see my duality as a bonus. It’s the ability to live in the world of the imagination with my feet firmly on the ground that I hope will ultimately lead toward a fulfilling and rewarding life with tangible results that at one time could only be dreamed of.

family, sisters

Welcome to the World, Baby Girl

Yesterday we welcomed the newest addition to our family. My sister, Weez, and brother-in-law, Kyle, had their first child – a baby girl. Miss Lorelei arrived to us yesterday afternoon around 3:30pm at 6 pounds, 11 ounces, 19.5 inches long.

I have been an aunt twice before – my brother has two children, now 9 and 11. At first, I couldn’t explain why this time around is more exciting. Maybe because I am in a different phase of my life. Maybe it’s because there is this inexplicable link between sisters. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t stand my brother’s wife, and love my brother-in-law. Could be because Lorelei is named after mine and Weez’s favorite sitcom of all-time: The Gilmore Girls.

And then I thought some more about a comment a friend of mine made when I told her that my sister found out she was having a girl. “There is some instinct that takes over when a sister has a little girl. It’s as if she is your little girl, too.” You invite her into the sisterhood, you bring her into the fold. We welcome another strong warrior heart.

cancer, experience, family, health, mother

Quick Conversations

Why does a burning platform need to emerge before we adopt change? I wish it didn’t take life altering events to help me get my priorities in order. I wish I could always find what Alec Horniman, one of my professors, calls “a clearly perceived better way.”

I am always amazed how the shortest conversations have the most incredible impacts. I spoke to my mother recently and the conversation went something like this:
“Well, I’m glad everything’s going well.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’m going to run into Mellow Mushroom to play trivia and eat some pizza.”
“Okay. I just wanted to tell you one more thing…..They found some abnormal cells in my mammogram.”
“Are they going to test them to find out what is abnormal about them?”
“They already know what “It” is.”
(Long pause)
“Are you telling me you have breast cancer?”
“That’s what “It” is.”

I capitalize “It” here for a reason – I have a lot of respect for cancer, for its power to change how we look at the world. I can’t think of a six letter word that has ever had a more immediate effect on me. There have only been a handful of situations that have truly altered the way I perceive my future – 3 to be exact. This one tops the list.

I blinked, and my life was different. In that moment, I had no words despite my usual gift of gab. My only thought was, “I want my life to go back to the way it was less than a minute ago.” I know now that it never will.

Yes, I will worry more. Though I idolize mother for her strength and courage, I am forced to recognize that she is not immortal. However, I have found that there are many more good things than bad that come from this situation. I will be more grateful for time with my mother. I will criticize less and praise more. I will forgive and forget in a way that I have never been able to before. I will be even more conscious of how short life is, of how important it is to do what I love everyday – in both my personal and professional life.

I have set a record for the number of times I have apologized to friends and family for not returning their calls or emails more quickly. My excuse is always, “I just don’t have time.” In actuality, I do have time. We all have time; we just make choices about on what and on whom to spend it.

It is as if my life has permanently found a home under a magnifying glass – everything, the good and the bad, are amplified. The highs higher and the lows lower. Maybe this is better than simply existing in a world that is even-keeled. Those highs and lows do make the game more interesting.

My friends have been incredibly supportive, and I am very grateful for them. Their obvious first question is always, “Is your mom going to be okay?” Usually I answer, “I hope so.” The other answer, the one that’s almost always impossible to articulate is, “I don’t know.” Truthfully, we never know. From one moment to the next, life twists and turns in ways we never expect, and often does so at break-neck speed. I blinked, and my life was different. And that’s not always bad. Things that don’t scare you to death will scare you to life.

change, Darden, experience, family, graduation, grandmother, happiness

A Sense of Place

A Sense of Place

May 20th would have been my grandmother’s 88th birthday so my Darden graduation on that date has a dual-significance for me: it is the celebration of my greatest academic accomplishment and of a woman whom I consider to be my greatest teacher. She was born Sarah Louise Gagliardi, though I knew her as Sadie Lupinacci. She was born to blue collar immigrant parents on Barber Street in Hartford, Connecticut. She was a life-long employee of Traveler’s Insurance Company. She had two children: my mother, Sandy, and my uncle, Tom. She was married to my grandfather, Alfonso Lupinacci, for over 40 years until his untimely death in 1982. They were childhood sweethearts and grew up around the corner from one another. She led an ordinary life. Nothing extravagant. Nothing extraordinary.

Yet she was an extraordinary person – the kindest, most loving person I have ever known. She had a remarkable sense of forgiveness and an endless supply of support for those she loved. When anyone asks me what kind of person I aspire to be, I consider that I wish to love and be loved the way my grandmother was, and still is. She came from so little, and I have so much which is why I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude for the opportunity to be a part of this community and this graduating class.

I came to Darden to attain traditional financial skills because that was a clear hole in my resume. This was the explicit learning. While I was able to reach this goal, there were implicit learnings that I did not expect to find which are just as valuable, if not more. I learned about the idea of lifting as we rise, that there is so much more satisfaction in climbing the ladder with people we admire and care about along aside us rather than climbing over others and being alone.

I spent a lot of time here considering the idea of happiness, of accomplishment. Defining it, setting benchmarks, reflecting on what’s working in my life and what’s not, and then taking on the responsibility to change, even when that change is painful or frightening. And I am continually reminded of the idea that what we wish to have in our own lives we set about attaining by providing that very thing for someone else. So if it is happiness we seek, we can begin to have it by providing happiness for another. The same goes for success, personal and professional, for peace of mind, for friendship, and, as my grandmother showed me, for love.

I learned how devastating it can be to think I’m on a road that I built going one way, and all of a sudden the bottom falls out and I end up on a path I never knew existed and probably would not have chosen by my own volition. Surprisingly, I learned to love the new road, and even became grateful that the Universe presented it to me. Resiliency and the ability to see possibility in all opportunities are great blessings that I found here.

And most importantly, I learned about the power of place. I have a friend who talks about the metaphor of a great vein of life running just beneath the Earth’s surface. Sometimes we come upon physical places that have special significance though we cannot pinpoint the underlying reason for that feeling. She says that at those points, the vein of life emerges for us to grab a hold of and experience an intensity of emotion that we do not find in the course of our everyday lives. The places where the vein emerges makes us feel alive; make us feel connected to one another and at cause with the world around us. Darden has been one of those places for me, and I hope it has been for everyone who has the privilege to call this beautiful place home, even just for a little while. I look forward to returning again and again in the years to come, and I am so excited to see how our lives unfold, intertwine, and connect.