Elana Kirsh

Tag: work

  • Working from Home is the Enemy of Mindfulness

    On the face of it, I have a fairly ideal work-from-home situation right now.

    For starters, I have a job – already going better than millions of people around the world. And I actually love my job. I feel like I’m doing good for the world, the people I work with and myself every day, which gives me a steady sense of purpose and meaning. Added to this, my husband isn’t working at the moment, so the bulk of childcare responsibilities – of which there are many – fall on him. This means that apart from feeling guilty about not spending more time with the kids, and not helping him out more, I’m able to work largely uninterrupted for hours on end. Not a luxury that most working parents with young families have right now.

    The cherry on top is my workspace – a granny-flat-turned-home-office on the roof of our apartment. It’s comfortable, quiet, and breezy, and our new dog (I’ll share musings on him in a separate post soon) keeps me company while demanding very little. He also never interrupts Zoom meetings and pulls faces behind me while I’m talking to potential clients, so that’s another win.

    My point is – I know I’ve got it pretty good. And I’m grateful for these circumstances every day…

    And yet.

    I’m finding it really fucking hard to ever finish work these days. To draw a line and switch over to family time, to time with my husband, or even *gasp* to me time. I’m constantly thinking about work, going over challenging conversations, mentally fiddling with budgets and ideas, planning future difficult conversations, building road maps. Writing back to texts and emails and Slack messages while the kids are in the bath.

    It’s better on the weekends. Even if I work for a few hours on Friday morning and a couple more on Saturday evening, in the time in between I’m largely able to enjoy time with the kids, meandering walks with the dog, a family dance party on the roof, maybe even a movie on Friday night. Well, the first 20 minutes of a movie before I pass out on the couch. Really I just stay awake for the ice cream.

    But on work days, mindfulness is eluding me.

    I realized yesterday that part of it is the absence of a commute. We bitch and moan about traffic jams and late trains and how much time we waste commuting, yet it serves a purpose other than just moving from us Point A to Point B. Being in physical transition facilitates a psychological transition, too. My drive to the office takes about half an hour, and gives me time to mentally go from home to work, from work to home. After getting everyone up and ready in the morning and dropping them off, the drive gives me time to switch from being “mama me” to “work me.” And even when I rush out of the office on my “short” days, to pick up GG and Little A from kindergarten and spend the evening with them, I’m usually able to process whatever I was working on, mentally leave work, and ultimately be present with the kids until they go to sleep.

    At home it takes me less than a minute to get to “the office,” and I’m usually carrying or dragging some combination of laundry, a whiny child, a dog, dishes and a computer with me, and often already on a work call, to boot. Half of my mind is still downstairs with the family when I’m up at work, and when I come down, say to have lunch with them, a good chunk of me is still in the last call and writing up an email summary and scanning and re-prioritizing my to-do list.

    It’s exhausting.

    And basically the opposite of mindfulness.

    I wish it was just affecting me, but it’s not. My husband told me yesterday that sometimes it feels like I’m not really here, and I couldn’t even argue with him. He’s right. I’m not here. Not all of me anyway. And if he feels like this the kids probably do, too.

    Trying to meditate
    Meditating together doesn’t work, just FYI

    As always my unexpected guru, he made a suggestion that I’m gonna try this week. Sounds silly but I believe in environmental reminders to trigger behavioral changes. He suggested that instead of coming “home” from work through the internal stairs, that I leave the building via the elevator, take a walk around the block – not on a work call – and then walk in the front door. Maybe this way, even in a few minutes, I’ll be able to trigger that transition that I usually get on the commute. To leave work behind, even for a couple of hours, and just be with the kids.

    I also know that – as is so often the case for me – meditation is part of the answer here. My practice has been rocky lately. I still meditate every morning, but so often I find that the bell dings after half an hour and I realize that I’ve basically just been sitting on my ass on a pretty cushion, legs crossed, back straight, face relaxed… thinking about work. When my mind is all over the place like this I find that a stricter, less spacious and all-encompassing technique is more effective at holding and cultivating my attention – so I think I’ll try some body scanning and super-zoomed in attention practices this week.

    None of this is going to change the fact that we’re all kind of going nuts with this social distancing, the kids need their routine, my husband needs to be able to focus on his work, and the extrovert in me is killing to see other people. But something tells me that a bit more mindfulness and presence might take the edge off the suffering. And shine a light on the beauty in every moment, too.

  • Guilt and Mindfulness

    I’ve been feeling guilty lately. Kind of an occupational hazard of being a Jewish mother I guess, especially a Jewish mother who works. Hard. So guilt in and of itself probably isn’t that interesting.

    But this recent guilt has felt kind of different, more nuanced than the never-ending “did-I-do-the-best-I-possibly-could-for-my-child-at-any-given-moment” shit that I think all mothers feel. All parents, probably. For that particular flavor of guilt I’ve had decent success with the “good enough mother” theory, which holds that children actually benefit from having a mother who fails them from time to time.

    My recent batch of guilt is more like this: I work a lot – both at the office and at home. I get home after my kids are already asleep three days a week. I left them with my husband for a few days recently for a conference, and I’ve got a few more coming up next year. But all of that I can deal with; I know we’re setting a good model for them of an egalitarian household. I feel guilty because since starting this new job I’m having a fucking blast doing it. The content is inspiring and interesting and important. I work with amazing people. The energy is flowing – I feel like I could work basically non-stop and not get tired of it.

    And it feels like it’s not meant to be like that. Like if I’m going to be away from my family for so many hours, to put the kids to sleep and then keep working, to find patches of time on the weekend to catch up from the week gone by and set up the week ahead – I’ve gotta at least resent it. And I don’t. Not at the moment.

    A couple of days ago I booked a flight to join some colleagues on a short trip to Amsterdam in a couple of months. Half work half play. I’d been umming and ahhing for a few days and I just decided fuck it, you only live once, right? But something was still niggling. I decided to check in with my husband, to try to work out what wasn’t sitting right. Keep in mind, my husband is somehow more of a feminist than me – he’s not fussed at all by our down-the-middle split parenting arrangement.

    Am I pushing it? I asked. Spending too much time at the office, traveling too much?

    He told me he doesn’t care about that, said I should do what I’ve gotta do. “But when you’re here with us, be here with us. We need you too.”

    Bam, straight to the heart. Straight to my supposedly-mindful-mother heart.

    I took a deep breath, quelled the defensive response welling up inside of me.

    Because he’s right. That’s what I’m feeling guilty about. I text and check my emails during the limited time I have with the kids far too often. I send work emails at 7am in between breakfast and brushing teeth and smoothies. What’s the point of getting up at 5am to meditate every day if I check my emails the second the bell goes off, and leave that mindfulness on the cushion?

    I felt totally ashamed, for my husband to have to tell me this. I mean, I’m meant to be the mindful one. And yet so grateful that he did. Because it’s spot on, and so easy to implement, once I’m paying attention.

    It’s been two days, a full weekend, and I feel so much better. That’s not to say that I didn’t work over the weekend – I did. But I was less attached to my phone, less lost in work in my head, and more importantly – more present. More patient and creative with the kids. More appreciative of how fucking awesome they are, and how lucky we all are to have each other, and what a crucial part of my life they are.

    Even if they’re not the only driving force in my life, or the only thing I think about.

    We’ll see if this flows through the week, and the month, and with me to Amsterdam.

    But for now – I already feel less guilty.

  • I Thought My Cannabis Story Was Over Years Ago

    I Thought My Cannabis Story Was Over Years Ago

    My romance with the green flower started in the mid-90s, around the same time as I met cigarettes and alcohol and Pearl Jam and teenage angst. Somehow I remember my first cigarette, trying to be cool and pretending I knew how to work a Zippo lighter, yet I have no memory of the first time I got stoned. Either way, I tried it, I liked it, and pot was part of my story for the next two decades or so. 

    The details aren’t so interesting. Countless bongs and joints, across various countries and stages of life. Baggies of buds and sticks of hash stashed in the back of drawers. Laughter and bonding and writing and talking shit and paranoia and music and movies and baking cookies at 2am. Pot was always there with me – even as I moved countries and made a new life for myself and started a career and dated and started meditating and “growing up.”

    Usually it made me feel good – but not always. I think one of the main reasons I used to enjoy drinking and smoking pot together was that the alcohol would relax me enough for the pot not to make me anxious or paranoid. I was always looking for the sweet spot – that delicate chemical balance.

    It was a lot of fun, but also a lot of overdoing it and hangovers and stinging for a smoke but not being able to get any and deciding to only smoke on weekends then breaking my promise to myself over and over.

    Until one day in 2013, I decided enough was enough, and I quit everything – cigarettes, alcohol and pot, all in one fell swoop. I went on a long meditation retreat, “saw the light,” the pain that all those cravings were causing me, and that was it. Never smoked (or drank) again.

    And as much as it pains me at times, as much as I wish I hadn’t felt the need to be so hardcore that I had to quit everything, I’m still pretty happy with my decision. Proud of it even. I fantasize every now and then about being able to share a joint with my husband on the roof once in a blue moon… but then the thought of breaking my sober streak doesn’t feel worth it. Not to mention the fear of the pot paranoia that I used to know oh-so-well.

    So that was my cannabis story… until a couple of months ago when I was approached to run the content operation for an up-and-coming startup in the medical cannabis space. I connected to the mission instantly, I was ready for a change, I liked the people, it was mutual, and I started work about a month ago.

    No, I haven’t started using again. It’s not that sort of office.

    But I have been thinking about it.

    When I took the job, I honestly thought I knew nothing about medical cannabis – I saw this world as only vaguely connected to my past experience. As it turns out, I know a fair bit about this plant. I’ve grown it and I’ve smoked it and I’ve stored it and I’ve baked with it. I know about its effects and side effects. I can smell it from a mile away.

    But there is so much that I don’t know. Learning about cannabinoids and terpenes and the range of products on the market and the even wider range of conditions that this impressive plant is being used to treat… it’s kind of blowing my mind. It’s a different world from the cannabis culture I grew up in – of taking whatever we could get from whatever dodgy dealer we could find. I never had any idea of strains and certainly not active ingredient profiles. No wonder sometimes it sent me into fits of giggles and sometimes I was sure everyone was whispering about me – I had no idea what I was taking.

    I keep thinking about how cannabis is being used these days to treat anxiety, a condition I’ve struggled with on and off over the years. And in the years since I quit, there have been some pretty tough patches. I gained so much clarity and stability when I stopped drinking, and smoking cigarettes… but maybe I threw the baby out with the bathwater? Of course it was recreational use, all those years, but maybe there was some healing happening there, too?

    And really, how much can we really separate the two? Stress is a risk factor for so many diseases and conditions – so stress relief tools are just as much for the body as they are for the mind, and for the fun of it.

    Of course, I’m well aware that this could just be me looking for loopholes, looking for an excuse to “allow” myself to drink and smoke again. To fill that gap that all the fun stuff left in my life. And what were the chances that taking a job where I write and talk about cannabis all day every day wasn’t going to stir that up?

    So for now, I’m just sitting with it. Talking about it. Processing.

    I have no plans to do anything right now – and anyway it’s still illegal here who are we kidding, I live in the suburbs and go to sleep at 10pm and have no idea how I would even go about finding anything to smoke.

    It just feels like the story’s not over just yet.

  • How to Be a Mindful Working Mama

    How to Be a Mindful Working Mama

    Being a working mama is hard. I went back to work full-time after seven months on maternity leave, and the month that followed was one of the hardest of my life. I was nervous about leaving GG, getting my brain back into work mode was hell, I was racked with guilt, and exhausted to boot.

    Now, one-and-a-half years later, I feel like I’m starting to get a handle on it. I’m sure in a few years time I’ll have loads more insight to share – it’s a skill after all, and this is all just practice – but this is what I’ve learned so far:

    1. Choose Your Job Wisely

    Being an awesome mama and having a thriving career aren’t mutually exclusive – but not every working situation is a good match for the gig. Especially not in the first few years. I had a high-pressure job that required insane hours and dedication a few years back and I loved it – but I recognize that right now is not the time for such a position.

    Similarly, two of my close friends are currently in the process of getting themselves out of work situations that are negatively effecting their personal lives. Two part-time jobs instead of one full-time job sounded like a great idea in theory – lots of flexibility and variety – but it turns out there’s no such thing as a part-time job. Instead, these two awesome mamas are neither seeing their kids as much as they want nor paying the bills, so they’re realizing that it’s time to reel it in.

    A full-time job can sound daunting right after maternity leave – especially if you’re off work for more than a few months, but if you choose a family friendly workplace and set some boundaries it’s actually a lot less work.

    2. Choose Your Childcare Wisely, Too

    This is crucial. If you have an uneasy feeling in your gut about how your baby is being treated, you’re gonna feel guilty about leaving them and going to work. If you feel 100% comfortable about the daycare situation, you’re more likely to feel like you’ve made the right choice. For me, it was even bigger than that. I went back to work when GG was seven months old, and he’s been in a small family daycare ever since. From the first month I realized that not only was this okay – it was great for him. While we all had to adjust to eight hours apart five days a week, the clear reality was that GG was blossoming. He gained so much from making friends, learning how to go to sleep by himself, eating in group and making close relationships with other adults that now I wouldn’t have it other way.

    3. Be Where You Are

    Once you know that you’ve got a job that fits the life you want to lead and childcare that works for your family, it’s all about being where you are. If you’re thinking about work when you’re at home and home when you’re at work, you’re not being the best of yourself. Your work will suffer and so will your parenting. This is where you need to switch on your mindful attention.

    Here’s what works for me: as much as possible, I use the Pomodoro Technique to maximize my efficiency at work. I write detailed, prioritized to-do lists for the next day before I leave the office each day, and then I work in 25-minute time slots to get through the tasks. This is the kicker: I turn my phone onto airplane mode for 25 minutes at a pop, during which time I’m totally focused on the task at hand. I check texts, emails, Facebook etc. in short breaks in between.

    When I leave the office – I leave the office. When necessary I get in a few more hours at night once GG’s asleep, but from when I pick him up in the afternoon until he’s asleep, I’m in mama mode. I don’t answer phone calls, I don’t play with my phone except to take photos of him doing ridiculously cute things and I don’t check my emails. I enjoy every moment we have together – and I’m sure I’m a better mother for it.

    When you’re at work, be at work. When you’re at home, be at home. Leave the exceptions for real emergencies.

    GG visiting me at work last summer. A bad example of boundaries but a very cute photo. 

    4. Take a Mini Meditation Break

    I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s a lifesaver for me. I have an alarm set on my phone for 11:45am every day. If I’m not in a meeting or involved in an urgent task when it goes off, I shut my office door and meditate for 10 minutes. Ultimately I’d like to be meditating every morning/night too, but it’s not happening right now and these mini meditation breaks help me keep a base level of mindful attention throughout the day. Give it a go and see if it works for you.

    5. Reconnect at the End of the Day

    I find mindfulness really important to ease into the transition from work to mothering. I make a point of pausing before I knock on the door at daycare or walk in the door at home if GG is already home with his father or grandmother: I take a deep breath, and ground myself. I make sure I’m fully present for that moment when we reunite at the end of our days.

    Up until recently nursing was our reconnection ritual – now it’s finding a new place. Sometimes I join him in whatever he’s doing, sometimes it’s a long hug, sometimes a conversation. Making that conscious effort to really be with him for those first moments flicks the switch, and I’m home.