Dealing with criticism of something you've created

I've been neck deep in editing for a couple of months now. 

This week we mailed out the summer issue of Japan Harvest, the magazine I manage, the last issue that was largely put together in my absence in Australia. 

This week we finished editing the articles for the autumn issue and the designers are now working on it. 

This week I began receiving articles for the winter issue. Today I've been allocating the various tasks required for each article to various team members.

It's keeping my brain limber!

Finishing off articles includes checking with the author that they're happy with our edits. 97% of the time people are, or have only minor issues. 3% of the time (I'm guessing the percentages, by the way) someone has major issue with what we've done.

This week I had someone in that latter category. Thankfully he acted graciously and didn't take it personally, even though he felt as though we'd over-edited and taking his voice out of the article. That is precisely why I make a point of checking with authors (not every magazine does), because I've had this done to me and it isn't nice.

But it isn't easy to deal with criticism of your writing. It is something you get used to and even come to appreciate (as long as you don't come across an editor that isn't professional and fair). Here is a helpful blog post that gives some pointers about dealing with criticism of your writing. And a quote from the post:

It’s important to remember one truth: Your editor wants you to write something their readers will love.

Amusing physics

Today I went on a school excursion with two of my boys and my husband, 80% of my family. An unusual situation, given that my boys are in grades 5, 7, and 11. This is an annual  cross-year level trip. Grade sevens have touched on physics in science and they go with the high school physics students to an amusement park and look at real-life examples. It just so happens that David is the physics teacher and they had need of parents to help supervise. 

The physics students were in charge of the science and hopefully leading the groups. I helped out as needed. 

Our group had some strong-willed and energetic girls. It took quite a bit of of work to keep the group physically together after lunch. I'm pretty worn out tonight. Yay for leftovers!

I didn't ride on this, nor the more energetic rollercoasters or
twirly rides. I get motion sick pretty easily, unfortunately!

My group included our eldest son. It was fun to see him operate (and be challenged) in a leadership role, but also his good grasp of the science. 

We encountered a cultural difference with the "bumper cars". The guys in charge kept telling us not to run into other cars. We, of course, largely ignored them. "Oops, I ran into you? Sorry!"

It was a gorgeous autumn day. About 20 degrees and sunny. The ginkgo trees were stunning. The perfect day to be outside. 

On the weekend they'd forecast this day to be rainy, I'm so glad they were wrong. I hope they're wrong about next Thursday-Saturday too, it would be fantastic to have gorgeous weather like this for our camping trip.

To thrive as an expat

As a new mum many mums read books about how to help their baby's thrive. There aren't so many books around about how to thrive as an expat, however. For me, anyway, it was mostly figuring it as I muddled along.

A little while ago I found an interesting post by someone who's lived as an expat mostly in Africa. She's got some challenging, but good advice for expats.

They don't complain. This is hard. I certainly complain, a little, but try to focus on the positive.

They learn a little language. Yep, hard too, especially Japanese that is one of the hardest languages in the world. But I have learnt a little.

They aren't easily intimidated by the unknown. Curiosity is good, a desire to learn new things. I'm not so great at trying new food and having kids has made us limit the unknowns quite a bit. Not to mention that we're here long-term, so trying new things isn't high on our agenda. Because of the next point.

They work hard and do their jobs well. They aren't tourists. I think we do this.

They stop working and enjoy the country. Camping has been good for this for us. Vacationing in-country is important.

They adapt and adopt local customs. Spending more than two years of full-time Japanese language study drove this into our minds. It is a value of our mission too.

They are authentic and maintain their own customs. Yep, we're still discernibly Australian.

They develop friendships with the local community. This is hard without good language and is something I wish I had more of. Thankfully there are many Japanese people in the school community and the OMF community that we've gotten to know.

They develop friendships with the expat community. This hasn't been a problem, as our ministry is so connected to the local international school.

They have an adventurous spirit, even if they have to force it. Yep, camping stretches us, and our boys. It's the boys who particularly limit us at present, I think. Two of them particularly aren't adventurous souls.



I don't have any points to add to these, except to say that in a world of online socialising, it is easy to have one foot in your "home" country and the other foot in the country you're living in. That isn't healthy. Many of the above point address that issue: learning the language, have friends who live locally, and enjoy the country (but not too much). Be Present.

Before we came to Japan we did receive one piece of advice that has been important. 

Find things that you can only do where you are and enjoy them.

We've applied that in Japan and Australia, to things as simple as a doughnuts and as complex as a motorhome trip to the centre of Australia. It's helped us to have a Be Present attitude and encouraged us to seek out what's enjoyable and unique about wherever we are.

Oven/stove drama

Today's drama is barely over and I'm mourning. This oven has been given a thumbs down. But the story hasn't ended yet. There is hope, but I'm not sure this is going to turn out the way I want it to.

On Sunday I turned the far left knob to boil the kettle and I felt a tiny click. The back left burner hasn't worked since then. But it's worse than that. There was a discernible smell of gas even when the oven or stove wasn't being used.

With the stove top off while the gas guy examined it.

We don't know how old this is. It is American, obviously imported by someone who lived in this house previously (and there have been several American families connected to the school who've lived here). It doesn't even really fit in the kitchen (much deeper than the bench to the left of it). It's ancient, dirty, rusty . . . but up till now has worked brilliantly.

So the drama this afternoon has gone something like this:

Gas man came looked at it and said he's never seen anything like it.

Gas man made lots of phone calls.

Gas man decided it was unfixable and needed scrapping. 

He asked for the owner's phone number. I gave him the number of the Japanese person employed by our mission to help with things like dealing with owners. They talked.

Gas man rang real estate agent who said they'd ring the owner.

Gas man taped up the gas line knob so none of the oven/stove could be used. Gave me a form to sign that I think said, "I understand that I shouldn't use this 'cause it's broken."

Gas man left.

Meanwhile, I'm on Facebook (yes, I admit I'm addicted, though at times like these it is one of the most economical route to getting help in an expat community) and messaging David who's at school.

I was resigning myself to the loss of this magnificent piece of equipment and about ⅓ of the bench space in my kitchen. I regularly make batches of several dozen biscuits, that will take twice as long without this oven. Every day we put stuff on the stove top: from lunch boxes, to dishes that aren't quite dry yet. Yes, I know most expats in Asia don't have anything like this . . . but that doesn't mean I can't mourn its loss.

Then people on FB started suggesting that it might still be fixable. Just because a Japanese repairman says it isn't, apparently isn't the end of the story?

Phone rang. It was the person in our mission who conveyed a message from the owner saying they were going to try and fix it. Or they will replace it.

I'm in disbelief. I can't believe that they'll find someone who'll fix an old American oven. If my disbelief is true, then I don't believe that they will replace with anything close to equivalent...

However as an expat community we have resources they don't have, so while we wait for whoever they send, we'll make our own enquiries.

But again, realistically, not many expats have something as nice as this in their kitchens in Asia and they probably don't feel much sympathy for us. I should be thankful. And I have been. It still hurts to think that I might lose it so soon.

This is the extent of my kitchen benches. Can you see how little bench
space we have left without the stove?
We'll miss that probably more than the oven.

Photos from recent rides

Early in October I decided to ride to a park five or six kilometres (depending on your route) from our house on a regular basis. I'm proud to say that I've now ridden there five times, almost once a week. I'm loving it. Last Friday I went despite it being cooler and overcast. Turns out that other people felt similarly discouraged from going out and there weren't as many people in the park as there were on previous sunny, warm days. 

I've not been spending much time at the park, just a short snack (or last week, small picnic lunch) and perhaps a game on my phone. But I have been trying to use my senses along the route and in the park to appreciate God's creation, trying to make it into more than just exercise but a mini-mental break too.

Here are some photos I've taken on my journeyings.

We're in autumn, so flowers are less frequently spotted, however Japanese Camelia have been out. They're often used for hedges here.

This was where I sat on Friday for a short while. It was very peaceful. Just the scrunch of leaves as people walked or rode past, a few distant children (playground behind the camera), and the swish of falling leaves. But then a park maintenance worker came along and started up his leaf blower! To his credit he apologised first.

This berry-loaded bush is actually across the road from our house, but it's hiding behind a tree. I did spot it first, though, on the way home from my ride.

It's not just the roads that are tiny in Tokyo, some of the footpaths are too (and many roads don't even have footpaths). Not long after I put my camera away I had to move forward to allow two other bikes through. That's life in Tokyo: constantly keeping an eye
open for someone else whose way you may be blocking. That bell on my bike gets a good workout when I'm riding on paths, it warns people politely that I'm coming.

One of the passersby enjoying the park on Friday.

A restaurant I pass by on my way to the park, I'd like to visit here. All you can eat yakiniku (cook your own meat at the table). I think the price might be as low as 2,800 yen (about AU$32) per person.

This park also has one eucalyptus tree. I took this back in mid-October, you can see how the other trees have changed since then.

Two weeks ago I took this of a lady practising her trumpet. She was fairly new to the instrument, I think (as one who has someone learning the trumpet this year). It's not uncommon to hear people practising instruments in large Japanese parks.

Working on the selfies! This was two weeks ago.

Not strictly on my ride, but again across the street, a Morning Glory flower. Mum says these are pests in Queensland, but they are just right here. This is my favourite photo of the month!

An Ongoing Battle to Trust God: guest post

This month a piece of my writing has been published in The Upper Room (TUR) Daily Devotional Guide, today is the day it's been allocated to. Though I haven't seen the magazine yet I'm told it's there. They've also started inviting writers to write as guests on the TUR blog, published the same day that our meditation appears in the magazine. 

Here's a link to my guest post, if you're interested. It's called "An Ongoing Battle to Trust God."

Rhythm nearly rhymes with repetition*

This afternoon I was messaging a friend in Australia while waiting in a line at a shop. When my turn arrived I tossed my phone back into my bag before I'd properly stopped using it. On my way out of the store it used its smart-phone capacity to call my friend without my permission! I didn't look at the phone again until I'd arrived home a few minutes later and found this:

I think it is the disruption of daily rhythm that makes
travel so stressful for me.

Did you mean to or know that you just called me? I spoke or tried to say hello for a little while but couldn't get a reply. smile emoticon

In the end she called me back and we chatted for an hour while she picked up her daughter from school (speaker phone). As we chatted I realised that in Australia they are headed for summer holidays and the end of the school year. It seems familiar yet odd as we're only a couple of months into the new school year here and the rhythms of life that we had in Australia are different here.

Daily life held together by routine
Rhythm is an interesting theme running through all our lives. Most days people have an overlying repeating schedule that shapes our day. For most of us it looks something like: get up > eat breakfast > go somewhere or do something > eat lunch > go somewhere or do something > eat dinner > go to bed. 

I find comfort in that and get stressed when the rhythm is disrupted. This week, for example, my rhythm has been disrupted, David's been away all week and as a result I'm tired. I'm also struggling at present with the sun going down earlier. Because our house is close to other houses, it can be quite dark inside by 4.30. That period from 4.30 to dinner time I'm finding vaguely unsettling.

On the flip-side of the coin I find changes in routine stimulating. I look forward to things that you mark on the calendar like long weekends, conferences, a special meal or outing.

Like most people with school aged children our lives are shaped by the school calendar and school day. Even more so, with a teacher in the family! As I work from home my schedule is given limits by the boys. For example last month I could expect that I would have one boy home at 4.30, one at 5.30 and the other between 6 and 6.30. We also spent most Saturdays at cross-country meets. Now with a change in sporting seasons
two boys come home before 4.30 and the other at 6.30 or later but our weekends are free at present. Changing rhythms.

Easy to lose perspective
People we meet in Japan often mention that it is an opposite season in Australia, but most find that hard to comprehend. It is, even if you've lived there. I'm pulling out my warm clothes now because we're descending into the teens in temperatures (Celsius), yet my friend on the phone was pulling into McDonalds to get a frozen coke because she needed something to cool her down. It's hard to wrap your brain around.

The rhythm we embrace in our daily lives can be so consuming, however, that we lose perspective on all that's happening around us. So this week my perspective has been shaped by the absence of my husband. It's been easy to be consumed by that reality. I'm very glad that I made sure to get out and hear other people's perspectives: a single colleague headed for home assignment next year, a prayer meeting about something other than me and mine, and this afternoon an unscheduled phone call that forced my vision elsewhere.

So while I find that for my sanity I need to keep a close focus on my family and my own responsibilities, I know that I need a healthy dose of looking outwards too.

How about you? Do you have a difficulty with too much routine or too little? Do you have trouble maintaining a good perspective on your own life rhythms?

Here's a post I wrote two and a half years ago about feeling uncomfortable about too much predictability.

*This is in response to a writing theme prompt for this week on Velvet Ashes' The Grove, an online community of Christian women serving overseas.