About a year ago I had been complaining to a close friend (who happened to be a doctor) about how I felt overwhelmed, tired, stressed and simply could not snap out of a particular bad mood no matter what I did. (Coincidentally I feel this way every year around May 1!)

I asked my friend if he had any ideas that might help me feel better. He thought for a long time and said he read something interesting that we could try, something that worked for him when he felt “paralyzed” and “numb.”

My friend asked “Where were you happiest as a child?”

“At the Jersey shore,” I replied after a short pause. “Our family would spend two weeks there every summer in late June. All my aunts, uncles and cousins would vacation together.”

“Are you able to follow instructions for an entire day?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Here’s what I’d like you to do,” he continued. “I’d like you to drive from your home to Island Beach State Park across from Barnegat Lighthouse, making sure your arrive no later than 9:00 am. You can bring lunch, but you can not bring your cell phone, laptop, books, or music and you are not to talk to anyone. I will give you a prescription to be taken every 4 hours.”

With that he handed me four slips of papers.

The next day I went to the beach bright and early. The beach was relatively deserted; a storm surf was on the way in. I took out the first slip of paper, opened it and read:

“LISTEN CAREFULLY”

I smiled and began listen… the pounding of the waves, the screams of seagulls overhead, the wind through the sea grass. I settled in watching the surf, looking for riptides, breathing in the clean salt air. I began walking over the dunes, and began to feel the layers of inner problems and stresses.

“It sure feels good not to be in work today!” I thought.

While searching the horizon and slowing down, I became aware of the world that is much bigger than me… and as I always do when I’m on the beach facing the ocean, I let my problems and stresses go.

Several hours later at noon, I opened the second “prescription” that read:

“TRY REACHING BACK”

“My friend’s right,” I thought. “There’s always value remembering who you are, where you come from, and to focus my energy on happier times.”

At first I thought about all the childhood memories at the shore with family and friends, living in the moment. Then I spent the next several hours thinking of college idealism, the passion and activism of the ‘60s, the decisions/choices one makes throughout their life. Replacing the present worries with warm memories of the past.

At 3:00 PM, I opened the third “prescription” that read:

“REEXAMINE YOUR MOTIVES”

“YIKES!” I said aloud.

I climbed into the Lifeguard stand and wondered, “Who is he, or anyone for that matter, to question my motives?”

But perhaps this was why I was feeling “stuck.” Whenever I was calculating and looking for rewards I hoped my job would bring, I became “dead.” For me, the happiest times were when I was simply helping and serving others, where it didn’t feel like “work," enjoying the spontaneous moments that happen, and the freedom of those moments.

Hours later, at 6:00 PM, I opened the final “prescription” as the sun set. It read:

“WRITE YOUR WORRIES ON THE SAND”

I had been waiting for this one. I grabbed a shell and wrote a few words, walked away, and did not look back. The tide was coming in and the air was crisp. I climbed the dunes and headed for my car.

In some ways it’s easy to feel isolated in financial aid. We have rules and regulations that would make most people’s head spin. But underneath all of the stress and worry we carry from our personal and professional lives, is our fundamental belief that what we’re doing is making a difference in the lives of individuals, who without our help, might never find the resources to enrich and better their lives through a postsecondary education.

I’m reminded that from time-to-time it’s okay to focus solely on myself, but all of that regeneration will be for naught if I cannot collect myself to pour everything back into my family, my staff, and my students. My friend’s prescription reminded me that regenerating, and then serving others and forgetting ourselves, can be the best medicine for what ails us.

I recently read Justin Draeger’s  “The Multitasking Myth and How to Really Increase Productivity,”  which is part of NASFAA’s “Financial Aid Hack” Series.  The article discusses how college students listen to iPods, instant message their friends, and do their homework simultaneously and insist that “no matter what anyone says, doing two things at once is impossible.”

But the article adds that those who multitask “lose more time than they gain.” I remember when I read that sentence, I said out loud, “I wish I only had to do two things at once.” (Even as I write this, I am watching a movie, entertaining my two puppies, drying a load of wash and making dinner!) 

For me, multitasking seems to be a required skill for the survival of many financial aid administrators.  During job interviews for financial aid positions, there’s always the question, “How do you handle a high stress/high volume/high accountability environment and how are you with multitasking?”   (I can usually gauge how much “multitasking” I’ve done on a particular day by how long it takes me to find where I parked my car in the parking lot at the end of the work day!)

Justin’s article talks about the “prefrontal cortex of the brain…. the portion that establishes priorities among tasks and allocates the mind’s resources for them.” 

When the prefrontal cortex becomes overloaded we seem to create “piles” on our desks.  Whenever I visit the offices of my friends, the first thing many say is “before you ask, I know exactly where everything is in each of those piles!” (Frankly, people who do not have at least a few piles on their desk make me nervous!)

I’ve attended my share of “time management” seminars too, and they emphasize the importance of daily prioritizing.  I’m usually the one who asks the question, “What happens when you’re just getting to priority #1 at 5:00 pm?” (and the room usually erupts into nervous laughter) 

The analogy I use most often describing financial aid administrators is the one comparing us to “air traffic controllers.” We have lots of important decisions, and most are interrelated with unforgiving deadlines.  Many colleagues arrive at work each morning with carefully prioritized to-do lists, and then the work day “traffic” starts.  Whether it’s a phone call, an e-mail, or someone on campus bursting into your office with, “I just thought I’d drop by and (i.e. “Mind if I interrupt you for a second? (wink, wink”), there’s always something offering you a distraction from the things that deserve our full attention. 

My staff is great at trying to limit those interruptions for me and I appreciate their efforts that allow me to focus on directing.

“Remember when we used to meet off campus for a 2 hour lunch?” a friend recently asked. “Then it changed to an hour on campus, and now it’s let talk for 5 minutes while we both eat a sandwich at our desk!”

I’ve attended more than a few campus division meetings where “institutional” issues that touch on financial aid issues suddenly become the financial aid office’s sole responsibility.  The dean opens the meeting, “Today we will discuss a new f…” Simply pronouncing the letter “f” for “financial aid regulation” sends several hands into the air with shouts of, “I think since this is a financial aid program, financial aid staff should handle it!” 

All of these make multitasking a necessity.

Do you find yourself multitasking?  When you multitask, do you find you lose more time than you gain?  Is it difficult in financial aid to prioritize tasks each day?  What are your thoughts?