joanna.r.miller@gmail.com

A Favor for My First Day

People who love me,

As some of you know I’m starting a new job on Monday. It’s my first “first day” in almost six years. I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m hopeful. I feel it in my marrow; this has the potential to be something really great for me.

Like what happens with many things that feel so right, the voices are starting to tell me it’s wrong, that I’m wrong, that maybe I can’t do it after all. The voices were there during the interview process too. I found a tool to beat back the voices then and I’d like to call upon it again now with your help.

On the podcast Being Boss, Brené Brown talks about the value of, “having visual reminders around your workspace of what’s real and important to you…” and she went on to describe one way she builds this for herself, “[When] I wrote in the beginning of my career, literally I pictured a mobile over my head with every potential critic in my life…so today when I write I actually have a physical mobile of my friends and family members over me and all I ask is that I’m being true to them. That when they read it they say, “She’s showing up. She’s being who she is and she’s telling the truth.” To me to make explicit who those people are and what that looks like is super important…People who love you, not despite your falls, not despite your imperfections but because you’re brave enough to try and you put yourself out there…just ask them for a picture and one sentence and just hang it up.”

So I’m asking you for a picture. One of you smiling your biggest, brightest, truest smile. I’m also asking for one sentence, a reminder to me of how I show up when I’m being who I am, telling the truth and brave enough to try.

When the voices whisper in my ear during my first day, first month, first year I’ll have your face to turn to instead.

Instructions: DM or email me your pic and sentence by Sunday evening. Your sentence doesn’t need to be fancy or poetic, just some words of encouragement, advice or a reminder of how I show up when I’m at my best.

Thank you,

JRM

P.S. If you want to see the original “smiling faces” collage I made for my interviews check it out here. If you don’t see your face, don’t think too much of it. I made this in 15 minutes an hour before the interview.

What I Learned During My Sabbatical Part 1

I recently took off 25 days in between changing jobs. I’m calling it my sabbatical. Here are some things I learned.

I don’t know how to relax.

I realized this when I went on an indefinite creative retreat in the woods of eastern Ontario. The setting couldn’t have been more conducive to deep, unfettered relaxation. A compound of luxury cabins on a picturesque lake, each with a view of the water, a gas fireplace, hammock chairs, a well stocked kitchens, the works. It was a 20 minute drive to the nearest town. A one stoplight kind of set up and at least 45 minutes to the nearest major city. The internet was strong enough to get work done but unreliable enough to not be able to count on it. By all measures I should’ve been able to settle in to a lazy routine but on day three I was still anxiously pacing about my little space, fretting over which “project” i should start first. Which of the three books I must get through today to stay on track for my goal of using my free time to read more. Or maybe I should write. Yea, gotta use this time to get some blog posts up. Or maybe I should write those way overdue thank you notes from my crowdfunding campaign. But if I start now I’ll be up all night…and so it went.

What I decided to do was nothing and it was way harder than I thought.

I sat down, no laid down on the couch with me hands folded over my chest deep in thought, “Joanna, you don’t have to do anything. You shouldn’t do anything. Lay here, breathe and look at the trees. Do this until you aren’t thinking about anything.”

And I did.

I laid there until I felt I was resting in the moment. Until I felt the stillness. Until should slipped away to be replaced with am.

I am at rest. Finally.

Under Construction

It should be said or rather I would feel better if I say it, right now I’m writing just to write. Be gentle, if you’re reading. For far too long I’ve let the dream, the desire for polish and frankly the desire to be seen and acknowledged get in the way of doing the work. So right now I’m just hammering away. Right now I need to build and some of my construction is a bit rough. I’m proud to be doing it though. I’ll know when it’s time to take a break from building so I can get back to polishing. When it’s time, I hope these models will be the measure of how far I’ve come.

What makes you really angry about the world?

What makes me really angry about the world?

Angry? These days there isn’t much that makes me truly angry but I feel the cousins of anger all the time: disappointment, frustration, annoyance.

Like when my car was towed moments after I had paid the outstanding tickets. Or when my landlord accused me of causing damage when I moved out and threatened not to return my deposit. Or when I was verbally attacked by a man outside of a club and the people around me did nothing.

In each of these situations I see something in common. I felt powerless.

Anger and it’s cousins are a byproduct of powerlessness. When my car was towed, I was frustrated because I felt like I had done the right thing by paying my tickets and I was towed anyway (I know, I know, don’t get tickets in the first place! What can I say? I’m human and I’m doing my part to help the state of California out of debt). When my landlord threatened to withhold my deposit, I was annoyed that I was roped into dealing with this bully one more time. When the man outside the club called me a “fucking black bitch” among other things and repeatedly came back to yell in my face and the people around me just stared, I was angry that you couldn’t rely on the kindness of strangers even when it was most needed.

But I’m not powerless and I wasn’t then. After I let these moments of anger fester, I got into action mode. I went to the bank and pulled my transaction records to fight the tow. I found my before photos of the damage and wrote my landlord a strongly worded email outlining tenant rights. I told everyone about what happened to me at the club, wrote about it publicly and urged others to “not be the one who stood by and did nothing”. Then some months later when a girl on a bus was being verbally attacked and I was the stranger standing by, I said something fierce and firm to the man who was harassing her.

Now when I slip into anger, I ask myself, how can I feel heard? How can I make sure my needs are met? Or even how can I be most helpful right now? The ability to help is an under utilized form of power; we can all help someone with something.

When you acknowledge your power there is no reason to feel anger. You are in control of the situation and can influence it’s outcome or at least your reaction to it.

I’m currently reading The 15 Commitments of Conscious Leadership and this mindset of power is described as moving from the “To Me to the By Me” state, “from living in victim consciousness to living in creator consciousness…Instead of believing that the cause of their experience is outside themselves, they believe that they are the cause of their experience.”

So what makes me really angry about the world?

Seeing people who feel that they are powerlessness. Seeing people who feel that the world is happening to them. You can always take control of you. Seeing yourself as an agent, as a creator of intention is the first step on the path to joy.

Dear Reader

Welcome to The Joy Department. I’m glad you found us.

Us? You ask. Yes, us. The other joy seekers.

I’ve started this blog as part of the Live Your Legend Blog Challenge but more importantly I’ve started it as a commitment to myself to persistently seek out the things that bring me joy, to intentionally do the things that bring me joy and to take time to recognize joy in others.

Stories are one of my earliest joys. As long as I can remember I have loved the sound of someone weaving a tale of things unknown or sharing a memory so vividly you’d swear you were there. To me stories are the source of imortality, creator of the wildest dreams and tie together the most distant of worlds.

Writing is also one of my earliest and most consistent joys but unlike stories it’s something I avoid. Writing involves one thing that consuming stories does not: vunerablilty.

Everytime I put pen to paper there is a hesitation. In that moment before the first stroke I am thinking, Will I find the words? What if others don’t understand my words? What will they think of me because of my words? More often than not I stop before I start; the thought of the answers to these questions too emotionally taxing to overcome but sometimes I push past the discomfort and on the other side I find joy.

So with this blog I make one more commitment to myself. I will write.

I am choosing to write. Even if it’s bad. Even if it’s inconvenient. Even if I have nothing to say. Because it’s a path to joy.

Welcome to The Joy Department. A place where you can find stories of self-discovery and hear about my stumbles and those of others on the path to joy.