What I need vs what I want

I'm having a hard time accepting that I need long stretches of quiet
contemplation to become truly centered and grounded. I just wish it
weren't true. I wish I could instantly jump from one situation to
another with effortless "context switching" and be fully immersed in
each task from the start. Isn't that the dream of a society hooked on
"continuous partial attention"? I've been attracted to the "Getting
Things Done" system for that reason. As the Wikipedia explains:

    GTD rests on the principle that you have to get
    things out of your head and recorded into a system you can trust. That
    way, your mind is freed from the job of remembering everything that you
    need to do, and can concentrate fully on actually doing those things.

GTD has certainly helped me get better organized, but it hasn't been a
panacea. I don't blame GTD for my problem since it never promised to
let me squeeze five elephants into a clay jar. Instead of aspiring to
grow large enough to envelope elephants, I need to accept that I am
just an ordinary clay jar.

Down with a cold

On Thursday evening, I realized that I had a cold. My throat started to
hurt, and I felt unusually tired. I took off yesterday from work as a
sick day (though I did make an important hard-to-set-up meeting at
9am.) I slept a fair amount and tried sleeping even more. I suspect
that I'll need to nap throughout today and tomorrow to make sure that I
get well ASAP.

My mind continued to race while lying in bed. My body was saying, "You
must rest." My brain says, "You must work." I hadn't counted on being
so drained by the code4lib conference, followed almost immediately by
Mashup Camp, combined by the rigorous demands of teaching a new course
plus a whole lot of other circumstances. Even as I write this
paragraph, my eyes and legs feel droopy and draggy. Time to nap a bit.

UC Compensation and Drucker: Take One

At a party late last fall, someone asked me what I thought about the
stories that were breaking in the San Francisco Chronicle about how the
perks that senior administration at the UC system were getting. I
expressed my natural outrage at the situation but didn't think a lot
more about the matter since I didn't think anything would ever
change. (I've gotten sufficiently cynical to expect bad behavior from
the people at the very top. Isn't that sad?) Recently, I started to
follow more closely the ongoing coverage in the Chronicle (including
the latest article SENATORS DEMAND ANSWERS ON UC PAY / Unreported compensation raises ire at panel's hearing ), as well as the PR responses of UC Berkeley and the system as a whole.
The more I learn, the more I'm longing for some deep wisdom in this
matter. How much I get paid or you get paid or anyone gets paid -- or
should get paid -- is a hot-button issue. I've been fascinated by the
types of arguments that have been marshalled to justify various
positions. At the risk of incorrectly characterizing the debate, it
seems that those who are justifying the high pay of senior people argue
that we need horizontal parity; UC leaders should be paid at
comparable levels to leaders at peer institutions. Those who express
outrage at the compensation of senior leaders draw our attention to the
lack of vertical fairness; is it right for the pay at the
highest levels to be going up, while the rank-and-file (who could
really use the money!) are not similarly benefiting?

I know that it's more complicated that what I set out here -- and
that's what I'm trying to get at as I sort through the arguments. More
fundamentally, I've been searching my own heart on how I currently feel
and how I would feel should I ever going higher (or fall lower) down
the hierarchy. I keep asking myself to what extent are my views -- and
those of everyone involved -- more self-serving than reflective of a
concern for others. There's a lot more to say. I will close with
bemusement the following quote from the Wikipedia entry on Peter
Drucker: Peter Drucker - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

    His most controversial work was on compensation
    schemes, in which he said that senior management should not be
    compensated more than twenty times the lowest paid employees. This
    attracted criticism from some of the same people who had previously
    praised him.

(I'm looking for the source for the 20:1 figure and plan to follow up once I find it.)

Mud-outs

Last night, some former housemates of mine went with Laura and me to
hear people recount their experiences with relief efforts in
Mississippi and Louisiana. At first, I did not want to look at still
more pictures of the disaster area but found myself emotionally
immersed in the muck and destruction. (I plan to take a look at Flickr: Photos tagged with katrina for further local coverage of the recovery efforts.) I learned that a major part of the volunteer effort has gone to "mud-outs"
the stomach-wrenching and labor-intensive process of removing the
furnishings from houses damaged by flood waters. Seeing pictures and
videos of workers wearing respirators, boots, and gloves and standing
beside walls covered with the biggest mold spots I had ever seen
brought home how hard the work was. There are more students heading
down to New Orleans in March.

I've been pondering things Laura and I can do to help in the relief efforts. We can certainly give money to the American Red Cross.
We can also support the students who are going on the trip directly. I
need to remind myself not to forget prayer, which is often the last
thing in which I engage, alas. Finally, I'm part of a community of
folks who care about issues such as the ongoing relief efforts around
the hurricanes. I can do my part to keep them informed and motivated to
work together.

Rest vs non-rest

One of the things I most love about the early morning is the bit of
breathing room it provides for me. I have been saying to myself and
Laura that I need to learn how to draw sharper boundaries between work
and non-work part of my life. Isn't there something wrong when I resort
to calling the rest of life "non-work"? Hmmm....part of my problem
comes from not being able to properly conceptualize what I'm dividing
my life between. Although I initially rejected the division as that
between "work" and "rest", I now say, yes, that's a good way to put it,
noting that by "work", I don't just mean the stuff I do professionally
or for a paycheck but all forms of striving to be productive. By
"rest," I do not mean the cessation of action but the richness of
Sabbath. Maybe I should totally take the focus away from work by
thinking of my life as "rest" vs "non-rest".