What composes the clouds? They form for a lot of reasons.
We are all the hero in our own story.
Colloquially, the phrase "clouded judgement" is often used in a negative way, to suggest that our mind was somehow foggy and the fog got the better of us. This is too bad for clouds, who already often have such a bad rep. As the
Cloud Appreciation Society (of which I am a proud member - #47923) says, I think it worth the "pledge to fight ‘blue-sky thinking’ wherever we find it. Life would be dull if we had to look up at cloudless monotony day after day." I suppose within this metaphor, this goes to say that clouds, regardless of what form them, are what inform our judgement as we navigate the skies of life.
Now I'm going to overboard with "it's a metaphor." In all seriousness, I suppose what I am trying to think through is the idea that "clouded judgement" doesn't have to imply poor choice.
Yesterday, I lost a job I had for three weeks. I put what I'd estimate to be 70+ hours into on boarding, communications and planning for classes that I'd never teach at an institution that I hadn't yet worked for, and for which I will receive no compensation. When it came down to it, their clouds were different than my clouds, and none of them were moving in the same direction. I was clouded by protecting the safety and compensation measures I'd already flexed on quite a bit in agreeing to terms for the job, they were clouded by lack of resources to deliver on safety measures and lack of willingness to deliver on payment I'd agreed to. I am clouded by the need to balance advocating for myself while accepting work I love and need, and they are clouded by promises made to students (concerning educational delivery methods during Covid and tuition rates) that cannot be squared with needs for available facilities and qualified teachers.
I think this all related back to an idea that I've kept returning to this past six months (and really, increasingly over the last several years, in part thanks to boo): NOTHING is ever as simple as it seems. It seems that humans really desire things to be as simple as possible. I definitely desire this myself. Albert Einstein is attributed to once saying (oh wow, she's employing over-used quotes now): “Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler." The last part is the key - "but no simpler." It seems that MOST things are more complex than we humans tend to give them credit for at first. I can at least speak for myself in saying that is often true for me.
This is true in relationship to the job scenario I described above, and it is true for the woman who practically brushed my shoulder with hers when running up from behind me on the sidewalk to pass me this morning. My initial instinct is to think she is a total bitch who only thinks of herself and Covid as a hoax. Upon second (ok, maybe third or fourth thought), I remember that she is, like everyone else, a complete and complex human. She has a walk through life that I don't know all of the details about. So do the folks at the job described above who run the institution I was excited to teach for and unfortunately had to walk away from. So do the folks whose political opinions seem abhorrent to me.
Needed to be able to tell that runner "a little space, please." Usually, I am able to muster that phrase when something like that happens. In this instance, I was caught so off-guard that I couldn't call it up to utter. Despite not having been able to muster up that phrase in that situation, it still applies. A little space please . . . I, like everyone else, need to continue making the little spaces I need to build and apply resilience in the face of a span of time that just seems to keep serving up new difficulties. The process of interviewing, hiring, planning and downward spiral of the above-referenced job, in my short retrospect period of about 12 hours at this point, I feel also really caught me off-guard.
I have to show my self enough respect to know that I did the absolute best I could in balancing understanding of where they were coming from and with advocating for where I am coming from. This feels so true for so many things right now.
This morning, with all of this processing still . . . well, in process, I have to say that I do not yet feel ready to hop back in on innovating when it comes to what my Fall and Winter could look like career-wise. The last several days have oscillated between jam-packed to borderline traumatic (when I consider several other things that happened in relationship to me personally and in the world at large). While my way of dealing has often tended to be 'reflect a little and move into action as quickly as possible,' I'm recognizing that strategy isn't gonna work this time. I really like the practice of grind up my coffee from beans each morning and waiting for it to brew. I enjoy the reliability of that grinding process being the second thing I do each morning. I enjoy smelling the coffee as it drips into the pot. I enjoy having to wait a little for the pay-off. As I hear (almost all too) often in the arts, 'it's not just about the product, it's also about the process.'
I desire to apply the same kind of trusted patience I have in brewing my coffee in the morning to working through the kinds of life events I detailed above. I need a little space (please) to acknowledge, process, release, heal from and transcend the trauma that has happened before I can mind-play and body-storm my way to leaning into proven and creating new possibilities. For conjuring up a sense of direction regarding how my clouds might shift, and how I might partner with them to breathe in deeply and push that breath out toward them to help choose the way the float.
Clouded judgement.
