After an interesting twitter discussion, hot chick Janiece wrote about her take on the mythical adult; here’s mine.

I have always felt *old*. Controlled. Humdrum. Intense. Stressed. A bit melancholy. I’ve never been particularly good at relaxing, playing, letting go. Since I have been very young, I’ve tried to be the caretaker and the adult to those around me. The whole adult thing comes very easily to me, it’s acknowledging that life can be enjoyed that is a little tougher.

Certainly there are moments where I suddenly feel disoriented and think, whoa, wait — I’m just a kid playing house, how did I end up with my own grown kids?

Still, my life has mostly been a string of sobering moments that have made me painfully aware of my adulthood, my level of responsibility.

• At 15, I vividly recall helping my drunk father to bed, driving my migraine-stricken mother to the emergency room, and waiting up for my sister to return home from a school dance.

• At 25 I gave birth to my first son. My husband at the time slept through my labor and delivery and I realized how alone I’d be. Thank god for my sister and mom who were with me.
• At 27 my eventually-to-be-ex screwed up our money yet again, leaving us thousands of dollars in the hole, and me pregnant and destitute in a foreign country.
• At 30 I finally divorced the man, which cost me my faith, and moved halfway across the country with my job. My dad not-so-diplomatically informed me I needed to stop leaning on them emotionally, I was on my own there too, and I cried for hours.
• At 33 my youngest, at 5, had his worst asthma attack ever and ended up in pediatric ICU. Seeing him walk down the hospital hallway pulling an oxygen canister drove home my responsibility like nothing else.
• At 35, when he was 70, my father died. My mom, sister and I held each other up as we put his memorial together, and I closed down his consulting business.
• At 38, when he was 13, I held my eldest son through his first tonic/clonic epileptic seizure, then stood by as paramedics thought he wasn’t going to come back from it. He nearly died, and was not there for a very long time. It terrified me.
• At 40, when he was 15, I lived through several months of that same son’s violent, bipolar, psychotic break. (Related to previous? Probably.) Supporting a child through mental illness that I could not help and could not cure is perhaps the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, including the next…
• At 44, when he was 45, I lost my beloved husband to a sudden and unexpected heart attack. Saying goodbye to his cold, still shell and going on alone to support my family and continue my profession and my life was both a challenge and a comfort.

After those painful, transformative life changes I’m consciously trying to enjoy life more, to value family, friends, community and my own health and sanity. I’ve been an adult for everyone for a very long time, and now I choose to work less, to be less obligated, to be less well-behaved. I’ve kicked my kids out to a college apartment. I’m buying a condo and going to Europe.

I plan to grab onto life with both hands, travel, laugh, love and enjoy the ride.

If you’ve ever practiced yoga, there’s a pose called the tree pose, where you stand on one leg to work on balance. I’m horrible at it, I wobble and grab all over the place and never last anywhere near 30 seconds. That’s a metaphor for my life right now. Normal seems pretty out of reach – and probably overrated anyway.

The first month or two will be filled with chaos. All the paperwork, financial and legal, is time-consuming and seems never-ending. The household tasks, cleaning up, sorting out, moving things around, is a huge job and I’m thankful for the teen boy squad. The big ticket things, selling the third car (selling the van, I’m keeping Maggie!) and the boat take time to prep for, and in this economy are not a sure thing.

Beyond that, though, what’s is my new normal, my balance point? Some thoughts:

• I plan to go into the office more often for people contact
• I’ll see my family & friends more, for the same reason
• The boys and I need some rituals and pastimes that will pull us closer together as a family
• The boys (at 17 and 20) will have to go solo during my business trips to Anchorage
• I need new routines for taking care of the house and yard, which Bryan helped tremendously with (and I’m highly allergic to grass) – I had a landscaper do my spring cleanup and am starting a biweekly housekeeper today
• I need a fresh, less-work-intensive approach to cooking and kitchen cleanup, and the boys will do their own laundry. (Hello, crumpled look!)
• I need a couple of selected external activities, structured, engaging and social, to keep my heart and mind challenged
• I need to exercise frequently to help with mood, health and getting out of the house
• I need to work out a new single income budget
• Within that budget, I would like to travel

I’m sure there’s so many more things to think about. Going to movies alone? Watching tv more or less (usually less)? Playing music more often for background noise? More obedience training for the doggies?

The new normal is going to take a while. I hope I’m able to achieve something livable and maybe even a little extraordinary.

1. Go to the theater and see some good shows. It doesn’t have to be a Vegas-only experience!
   FAIL. Although Cats, Rent, Fiddler on the Roof and Wicked are all coming to Seattle next year, so I have lots of opportunity coming up.
    

2. Get a pedicure once a month even in winter – and splurge on the extended foot massage.
   FAIL.
    

3. Listen to new music every month.
   I did this, actually, with the help of iTunes and exposure to new stuff via Wii Rock Band and Guitar Hero.
    

4. Spend less time at work and more time with friends and family.
   Epic FAIL. Sigh. A couple of colleagues and I are supporting each other on this in 2009.
    

5. Do something creative every week just for the joy of it, e.g. make jewelry, write, paint, garden, do a home project, or a web project.
   FAIL. But I did complete NaNoWriMo again.
    

6. Take more naps.
   FAIL. I hardly took any naps last year, although I’ve done a bit more in the last month.

One out of six is 16%, not exactly stellar performance. Apparently even non-resolutions are not for me.

Happy New Year!

Writing on this subject made me think: how competent would I be at surviving in a low-tech, hardscrabble world? Could I:

1. Survive outdoors without tent or sleeping bag? Probably
2. Survive outdoors in cold weather? Probably.
3. Use a map & compass to navigate by foot on land? Yes.
4. Navigate by the stars?
5. Make rope? Yes.
6. Blacksmith? Yes.
7. Make a crossbow and bolts?
8. Make and use a bow and arrows?
9. Make and use a slingshot? Make, yes – use, don’t know.
10. Trap birds or small animals? Probably.
11. Hunt, shoot and dress big game?
12. Raise breed and butcher livestock? Probably.
13. Fish without gear?
14. Sink a well?
15. Build a weatherproof shelter? Probably.
16. Build a latrine and a shower? Yes.
17. Build a boat? Sail it the direction you want to go? Doubtful on building a seaworthy boat – but I can sail.
18. Light a fire with flint & steel?
19. Have a basic knowledge of your region’s botany — poisonous/non poisonous plants & berries?
20. Plant and maintain a survival garden? Yes.
21. Make distilled water, soap, or booze? Water & soap.
22. Preserve food for long term storage without refrigeration? Smoked meat & dried fruit.
23. Sew, knit, or weave? Yes, all three.
24. Tan hide and work leather? Basic leatherworking.
25. Make shoes or boots?
26. Provide EMT support? Basic first aid & CPR, but nothing advanced.
27. Have knowledge of herbal medicine or basic pharmaceutical compounding?

I’m not entirely sure I’d be a multi-faceted resource to my post-apocalyptic enclave.

Feel free to chime in with your own answers. Note: Jim, we already know that you can do all of this very capably. Blindfolded, underwater, and bleeding from a gunshot wound. You’re hereby elected community leader.

1. Curling up with a pot of tea and a good book on a rainy afternoon
2. An evening spent laughing with friends
3. Planting flowers in the garden on a sunny spring weekend
4. Walking on the beach with my husband and dogs
5. Taking a nap on a weekend afternoon
6. Checking on my children at night, while peace and sleep take a decade off their age
7. The woodshop scent of sawdust and freshly worked wood
8. Ripe, freshly picked, tomatoes, sliced with a sprinkle of salt
9. Hiking in the woods, among the ferns and big trees, where the air is cool, green and earthy
10. A warm puppy curled up in my lap, relaxed and adoring
11. Sitting beside a campfire in the dark, watching the sparks fly up into the stars
12. Turning up a favorite album and letting the music and lyrics wash over me
13. Playing outside in the first snowfall of the year
14. The Saturday morning smell of coffee, bacon and pancakes drifting through the house
15. A summer afternoon drive in Maggie the MINI with the top down (hardly a simple pleasure – but it’s a fabulous de-stressor)

What are your simple pleasures?

Shutdown Day is a Global Internet Experiment whose purpose is to get people to think about how their lives have changed with the increasing use of the home computer, and whether or not any good things are being lost because of this.

The idea of Shutdown Day project is simple – just shut down your computer for one whole day of the year and involve yourself in some other activities: outdoors, nature, sports, fun stuff with friends and family – whatever, just to remind yourself that there still exists a world outside your monitor screen.

The list of things I could do with the time I usually spend checking the news, doing email, blogging, commenting, and general surfing is long.

• Go for a hike
• Go for a drive in Maggie the MINI
• Take the boat out for the first cruise of the season
• Do a metalsmithing project
• Do a household creative project, like make new lampshades or paint a piece of furniture
• Get together with friends or family
• Work in the garden
• Take a nap
• Take my dogs to the dog park
• Clean out the garage
• Shampoo the carpets

Honestly, I’ll probably be more focused on the fun stuff.

We did it last year and I found it very enlightening. I’m facing rebellion from my sons this year. Could you manage a day offline, and what would you do with it?

The guys at SparkNW are putting on a day-long Seattle seminar called SoulTech Seattle, which focuses on helping people reconnect with others and balance technology with living fulfilling lives. They’re getting lots of great publicity, including a positive write-up in the Seattle PI and exposure on NBC’s Today Show.

One of the co-facilitators, Leif Hansen, and I have traded blog comments a couple of times over on my tech blog. He is an earnest man who seems to be successfully walking the fine line between making a living in technology and having a personal life that’s very focused and face-to-face.

I’m not able to attend this particular session – nor would I probably want to participate in one that’s being filmed for a nationally syndicated TV show – but I greatly admire the concept and these folks’ efforts. Their message aligns with my own interests in some level of simplification and downshifting.

Lately I’ve been working on a new website. It always takes longer and requires more technical troubleshooting than I originally anticipated. This is in addition to my full-time day job, which takes place almost entirely via computer and phone.

I get to the point where I view the world, all day and well into the night, primarily through my little 15.5” wide-format notebook screen. I think in windows. I dream in web navigation.

It’s awfully hard on the eyes, the back and the carpal tunnel – not to mention the sedentary spread.

So Sunday, with the hub out of town at a seminar, I really needed to take a day for practical things. I had to do laundry, pick up the house, grocery shop, and run errands. As a be-nice-to-myself touch, I gave myself a pedicure between laundry loads. On Sunday evening, I cooked a nicer-than-usual dinner (smoked a spice-rubbed brisket, fresh corn-on-the-cob, Greek salad with homemade lemon vinaigrette, strawberry shortcake).

Spending the day offline felt like coming up for air after being underwater, breathing through a tiny snorkel, for a long time. The air was clear, my spine unkinked itself, and my house feels cleaner, uncluttered and more livable. (Plus, I’m really partial to clean underwear.)

I’m back to the hyperfocus grind today… normal days at work, time on the website, plus I’m taking an online project management seminar for the next two weeks.

I just need to remember the value of coming up for air.

• I overestimate what can be done in a day. Always have, always will. But getting my chunky behind out of bed earlier would help me get a lot more accomplished!

• There’s an awful lot of dog poop in my back yard, and the slugs are out already. I noticed this as I was upgrading our solar lanterns. We like our yard lit up a bit at night, it’s awfully hard to tell if our long haired black girl dog actually squats in the dark.
• Speaking of that, don’t listen to Brad Paisley’s new single “Ticks” while drinking coffee and driving, nor while you have to pee. I just about snorted coffee out my nose, and then howled in laughter through throughout the song. You can hear the song on his Myspace site.
• Beer batter fish and chips and chocolate truffles are a really sad dinner combination.
• Teens really dislike being deprived of electronics. They are bbbooooorrrrrreeeedddd and make vague accusations of child abuse. And then they make their parents listen to Lemon Demon over and over again on the car stereo. Mine got back on the computer at 12:01am.
• Since I had to pick up Ben in Seattle last night, I really, really missed the ability to check the Bainbridge ferry schedule and the Amtrak train status online. The ferry runs every 50 minutes, and the train is gonna get there when it gets there (most likely late) but I still missed knowing the details.
• When someone leaves the passenger door open on the car most of the day – gee, that would be one of my teen passengers – the car battery dies. Having this happen while the hubby is out of town is really poor timing.
• If you rip your home office apart to build shelves – and you need 12 shelf brackets and they come in a package of 12 – you will misplace at least one. Or more. Buy extra on the first trip!
• It’s awfully difficult to go to Home Despot for more brackets when your car is dead. I have a small inverter charger but it’s slow, and by the time the car would start, the store was closed.
• I really, really hate working in a cluttered, destroyed home office. This almost motivated me to to make a non-required trip across to my Seattle office just for a calm and non-trashed work environment. But with both boys here, I stayed home anyway.

So, I’m still working on reorganizing my home office today- finishing my closet shelves, putting everything back, sorting drawers and shelves and updating the decor and feng shui. If nowhere else, I should focus on enhancing opportunity and creativity in my office space.

I really, really wanted to make jewelry this weekend… maybe later this week.

I am thinking of enjoying some – not all – of the following:

• Make jewelry
• Build shelves in my home office closet
• Go to Ikea for an office bookshelf
• Visit the Seattle International Gem and Jewelry Show
• Take the Chinese doggies for a walk
• Weed a garden bed or two
• Hang out with Zach

I’m looking forward to seeing the world through my own eyes, not my 15″ screen.