Addressing Grave Concerns - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

Addressing Grave Concerns:

Your project isn't finished yet
I must apologize -
it would be finished, you can bet
but for Mother's demise.
For good departure time she failed
to anyone consult,
but nonetheless death has prevailed
and this is the result.
It's obvious her time of death
was most inopportune -
I hear she took her parting breath
a little bit past noon.
Had she postponed 'til end of day
as I would have preferred,
my inbox would be cleared away;
work would not be deferred.
To finish up I did my best
at her visitation,
and almost cleared away the rest
during the cremation.
By her graveside I multitasked
but sadly all was lost
when for my clump of dirt they asked
and Blackberry I tossed.
It landed in her open grave
and was retrieved, but then
because I hadn't yet hit "save"
I had to start again.
Despite the inconvenience
that I have put you through,
dare I beg you for lenience
and hope I'll trust accrue?
I promise I will do my best
to see all deadlines met -
my mother has been laid to rest,
and Dad's not dying yet.

By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, October 5, 2007

In 2007 my mother-in-law had a lot of health issues and was in and out of the hospital for months on end. At one point we were summoned to the hospital and advised to say our good-byes. (Advice that was a bit premature since she lived several more years.) It was a rough time for my husband, who was constantly working - at his office by day and at home most evenings in order to satisfy the demands of a slightly tyrannical boss. After getting that call from her doctor he cryptically mentioned that it really was not a good time for her to die - and thus a poem was born.

My poem would be more darkly amusing if the scenario wasn't as common as it is - far too many people experience the crazily careening whirligig of a ride referred to as "work-life balance" and feel overwhelmed. Research suggests that about one third of North Americans feel overloaded by work and family responsibilities, and that at the end of 2013, about 70% hadn't taken all of their vacation time. Sick days, however, are on the rise, as are depression and mental illness - no surprise in a world where more than half of the people surveyed routinely brought work home with them and reported that they felt that they had to be available to their employer 24/7.

Everywhere I go I see people who seem to be busy, tired and rushed. Studies I've read indicate that over the last twenty years, due to advances in technology, productivity in the workplace has increased by more than 80% on average in Canada, but stress has risen significantly too. If you glance back at my introductory poem you'll see that a few words stand out in bold print. That's because I think that three things weigh down the "work" side of the see-saw and leave "life" in midair. These three things are the notion that we should all multitask, our collective obsession with telephones and the endless, unrealistic deadlines of the workplace.

The Myth Of Multitasking

Nobody does one thing at a time anymore - at least nobody seems to but me, and since I'm a Luddite I barely count. My idea of multitasking is dusting while listening to music, or vacuuming the house during commercials. I might try to carry on a conversation while I'm making supper, but too often food and dialogue both suffer. In a multitasking world I'm resigned to being a serial tasker who can barely manage one thing at a time.

When my children were young I was able to sort of watch them and be otherwise productive, but that's my point exactly. Most of us can sort of do two or three things at once, but only the deluded are convinced that  multiple things can be done well simultaneously. Parents today are estimated to spend twice as much time multitasking as they did thirty years ago, which might partially account for the number of unhappy kids I see in the grocery store being largely ignored while the adults in their lives chat and/or text on their phones while tossing food into the cart.

Today I witnessed what could have been an epic fail on the multitasking front in a shopping mall. I was somewhat startled to see a very small child (not more than two) sitting on a large coin powered horse ride with no adult nearby. The ride stopped, and the tyke decided that he wanted off, which was problematic because his legs were about four times shorter than the distance to the ground. I made a mad dash to catch him, but luckily he managed to right himself just as I reached him. I stood guard nearby, and when I saw an older woman come out of the nearest store I commented that I was worried about the child's safety since I'd seen him almost fall.

"Oh, he's fine," she assured me breezily, as she collected the lad saying, "Nana is ready to go home now, so say good-bye to Horsey."

I couldn't believe what I'd witnessed - a loving grandma who had so carelessly left such a small child unattended (and on a moving ride four feet from a cement floor) in a public place! But obviously she thought she'd come up with a clever way to amuse her grandson and get a little shopping done at the same time. And if a babysitting grandma feels the pressure to multitask, you can bet that employees feel doubly pushed to prove their efficiency by doing many things at once. After all...

There are Deadlines to be Met.

Employers often have unrealistic expectations - like wanting you to respond to the email they send you (at three in the morning) before your work day starts. (I've heard stories.) Statistically the work week is shorter than it used to be, but most Canadians report that they work longer days than ever before. Almost two thirds of the Canadians surveyed reported working 45 hours a week or more, compared to the thirty percent who put in that many hours two decades ago. And in spite of the long hours worked, most only get paid for the 36.6 hours they spend in the work place.

All of the unpaid overtime takes it's toll on family life - in the decade between 1995 and 2005 time spent with family dropped by an average of 45 minutes per day, and if you don't count hours spent watching television together it continues to drop. (More on that in a bit.) Parents use the money they saved for the vacations they didn't take to send their children to summer camp, which decreases family time by that much more. They "outsource" child care because they have too much work to do to meet impossible deadlines. There is evidence that parents spend more time in the physical presence of their children than ever before, but less time actually interacting with them. Hmmm - now what could be responsible for that gap? My theory is technology.

Telephones (and Computers and Televisions)

I've already mentioned how a lot of employees feel pressure to take calls from the office in the evenings and on weekends, but besides tethering many to the workplace, telephones have been able to replace all kinds of gadgetry. What other device can be used as a flashlight, a level, a calorie tracker and a GPS? The sad thing is, the smarter phones get the stupider people get about phones. People drive and text, they cross streets and text, they eat and text; they sit in meetings and text. Most North Americans leave their phones beside their beds, and check them immediately before they go to sleep and immediately after waking. Telephone use is responsible for one third of the more than six hours that Canadians spend during their scant leisure hours on electronic devices. The report I read broke it down like this:

Each day, on average, Canadians play with their phones 124 minutes, watch television 104 minutes, use a PC or laptop 97 minutes, and use a tablet for 51 minutes.The average Canadian child spends about eight hours daily with electronic devices, and fewer than four hours with his or her parents - some of which is spent simultaneously viewing the same or different screens, which doesn't exactly qualify as "quality time."

Perhaps some of the facts and estimates I've mentioned are the reasons why only 23% of Canadians feel that they're highly satisfied with their lives. They're spending all of their see-saw time on the ground at work while their unused vacation days hover out of reach and their children get driven off to day camp with the nanny.

I have grave concerns about the way so many have bought into the notion that doing more things all at once (in a half-baked way) is better than concentrating on doing one thing at a time. I find it disturbing that work life continues to crowd out family life because of  the technological advances that should be shortening our work days. Go ahead and blame it on the deadlines and the unrealistic expectations placed on you, but somewhere deep inside you know where the problem really lies.

In the End We All Choose

Yup - you read that right. Everyone can set limits - and where employment is concerned everyone should. You can choose to not take calls after work or on your days off. You can choose to turn off your screens and shut off your telephones and engage with your spouse and kids. My gravest concern is that so few are making good choices. Somewhere out there, men and women are multitasking their way through the momentous occasions of life - the beginnings and endings and the celebrations. Some parent is missing a child's first step or a parent's last breath while they check their email or catch up with the lives of acquaintances on Facebook.

Remember, life is short - and on our deathbeds we're not likely to look back and wish we'd spent more time at the office, or on the phone with the boss. Put down thy phone and talk - engage with the world around you and the people you love most.

And with that I'm signing off. I think I'll go visit my mother.

A Glimmer of Hope at the End of the Day - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

At End of Day

Contrary to early reports
the evening finds me out of sorts -
my brain feels overtaxed;
my body's not relaxed.
The notion may seem radical
but mind is on sabbatical,
it functions in low gear
although it isn't here.
Still I insist that I am fine -
I know it's better not to whine
since everything's okay
in spite of wasted day.
But none the less I'm overtired
and grateful that no thought's required -
no notions for my brain
to grasp or to retain.
Now I'm prepared to merely sit
and rest my weary bones a bit
so turn on the TV
and I'll stare mindlessly.
Once it is time for me to sleep
I'll utter prayer for slumber deep
to clear my garbled mind;
leave hopeless day behind.
Tomorrow I'll face life anew,
perhaps my problems will be few -
my morning dose of hope
will tell me I can cope.
Each new dawn finds me more content
than I am when the day is spent,
the hours go by too fast -
I wish mornings would last.
Too often come those afternoons
when optimism's gone too soon,
intentions will derail
as hopelessness prevails.
Should I not feel at end of day
that I've improved the world some way -
or just myself perhaps?
Instead - I just collapse.
Perhaps in dreams I'll solace find.
I'll wake in sync with humankind
and in the hopeful dawn
find strength to carry on
beyond the morn and afternoon,
and feel as eve'ning comes too soon,
though energy has waned
some hope is still retained.

by Sharon Flood Kasenberg  (finished October, 2014)

Consider the power of hope.

"Hope is often the only thing between man and the abyss"
 - Dale Archer, (MD, psychiatrist and author)

Most days I wake up feeling hopeful. I greet the day groggily, but gladly - fairly certain that today I'll find the answers to at least some of yesterday's conundrums. But too often things happen to derail my happy little locomotive in its uphill climb. The sky is grey, the family isn't cooperative; I feel fat. I can't find the tools I need, or the right ingredients, to make hope hover magically throughout my entire day. And so it  goes - poof - in an instant.

Heaven knows, I want hope to be magical. I wake up with all kinds of hope, looking for shiny unicorns, but it drains too quickly when the wicked witch appears instead. My anger bubbles over as I begin to listen to the ever present negative chorus in my head. Hope dissipates when I repeat all of the time wasting habits that kept me from solving yesterday's problems yesterday. Some say that's the definition of insanity, but I amend that by stating that's only the case when you honestly expect a better outcome from the same old tired routines. I'm sane enough to know better, but sometimes just too lethargic to do better. Sometimes maintaining a hopeful attitude feels like work. And so I ignore my saner instincts and go with delusion (which is almost magic - right?). Sadly it never lasts - and by end of day I feel hopelessly mired in guilt and self loathing. Another day has been wasted - nothing has improved, and riddles go unsolved. I'm hopelessly paralyzed by self doubt and not sure where to even begin fixing everything that seems messed up in my corner of the universe.

On those days I cede empowerment to hopelessness. Having cracked open my thick skull to admit the voice of delusion into the mix, I up my ante and cede my ears to the rest of the hopeless chorus. I allow myself to be serenaded by the siren songs of failure. I wallow in the abyss of hopeless misery, and when that gets old I welcome my old nemesis - anger. I rant and rave.

"Hope shapes your methods of traversing your current situation"
- Mary C. Lamia, PhD, psychologist

The last day I raged at the world -  via the ears of my long suffering spouse - he asked me a good question - one that took hold in my head.

"What one thing are you going to do differently tomorrow?"

Finally, the voice of reason could be heard over the din! One. Thing. Differently. Three words reminded me that I don't need to shake up my entire routine to be more productive. I don't need to give up my morning rituals to maintain hope a little longer the day after the meltdown. What I really need to do is make one small change. Hope is kind of like that small flickering flame on those nice fast food commercials that are aired at Christmas time. It doesn't take much to extinguish it, but it doesn't take much to keep it lit either. I don't need to open windows and invite the winds of frustration, laziness or any other rampant negativity to blow out my candle of hope.

If I can manage to keep that flicker going my days are more productive and I'm happier.

In the last of his Christmas eve sermons, Marin Luther King had every reason to abandon hope and relinquish his dream of better days to come. From all appearances, times were getting worse - racial intolerance had resulted in a church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama. Poverty in the US was continuing to climb while war raged on in Vietnam. And still he refused to stop believing in his dream, and told his listeners that they must continue to cling to hope.

"If you lose hope, somehow you lose that vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go in spite of all. And so today I still have a dream."
-Martin Luther King

Hope springs eternal - if we let it. Will I still have bad days? I can hope not, even if I know I will. The abyss will always be present and the absence of hope will too often lure each of us to its edge. But that flicker of hope is only a match strike away from becoming a beacon to lead us away from the abyss. The voice of hope can still drown out the most negative chorus. Small stirrings of hope can still save us from those miserable days when everything seems most dismal.

Every small change for the better invites hope, and hope is powerful stuff. At the end of your worst days, if you have nothing but a glimmer of hope for a better day tomorrow - you have enough.