My memories of 9/11 revolve around fear, but not fear for myself. At the time of the attacks, we were living in Seattle and Jen worked in the Columbia Tower, the tallest building on the West Coast. We were getting ready for work and had the news on, where we heard about the Twin Towers. We headed to work, and I remember wishing Jen worked in any other location that day. She arrived at the building to find it was closed to everyone. She returned home and watched the broadcasts, while I attempted to go about my work as if nothing had happened.
I also remember, selfishly, worrying about a trip we had planned. The year 2001 marked a turning point for us. Jen had finished her bachelor's degree in 2000, and we were becoming more financially stable. The year before, we took our first real vacation as a couple. It was a trip to Tucson, our old stomping grounds, for a writers' conference and to visit my family. I didn't really attend the conference events, but we did catch up with family and revisit our favorite spots in Tucson.
In September 2001, we were scheduled to take our second couple's vacation, this time to San Francisco. Our flight was scheduled to leave Seattle the morning of September 15th, and we wondered if our trip would be canceled, due to the grounding of all commercial U.S. flights. We had already paid for our tickets, hotel and other expenses, and none of our travel plans could be canceled for a refund. Given how tight money still was for us, canceling that trip would have been a huge financial hit.
Fortunately, domestic flights resumed in time for our trip. And, somehow, we managed to get on our scheduled flight without mishap. The flight from Sea-Tac to San Francisco scheduled just before ours was canceled, because planes and crews still hadn't arrived in Seattle for all the scheduled flights. And, the flight immediately after ours was also canceled. But, our flight left without incident, although far fewer people were aboard than the airline expected.
People couldn't believe we traveled by plane only a few days after the attacks. But, when I think back on it, that trip to San Francisco was the best vacation we've ever taken. Perhaps we were more aware of our surroundings because of the attacks. Or, maybe we were simply relishing being alive, which imprinted the memories of the things we did and saw more deeply. Whatever the reason, we absorbed the atmosphere of San Francisco more thoroughly than we have any other place we've visited.
We traveled fearlessly around an unfamiliar city, walking through neighborhoods that were less-than-tourist-friendly as if we belonged there. We trekked the city's transit system, navigating it remarkably well for two people who hadn't used it before. We tried new foods, even though neither of us is usually an adventurous eater. On that trip, we experienced a new city in a spirit of discovery and joy that I've never encountered before or since. I think everyone wants to have that kind of experience when they travel, but most of us return from our vacations slightly let down, as if the trip wasn't the sensory extravaganza we had dreamt about.
Perhaps that is the true lesson I've learned from the horrors of 9/11. Each day, each moment is one to be savored, to be experienced as fully as I can. That's easier said than done, of course. But as we start a new, post-9/11 decade, I vow to consciously engage all of my senses so I can more fully experience the world around me. Each day, I will tell those I love how much they mean to me. If 9/11 has taught us nothing else, at least I've learned that tomorrow may not come.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Too Big to Fail But Too Small to Try
I’ve been doing some research into career coaching, with the thought of looking for a career coach to help me take my writing and editing business to the next level. One website I saw today left me feeling uncomfortable. The site had this question posted, “What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?”
Ever since reading that question, I’ve been uneasy. You see, I can’t answer it. Now, I think a lot of people I know would struggle to answer it, so I’m probably not alone in realizing I don’t have an answer, But, since I’m the introspective type, I’ve been trying to figure out why I can’t answer the question and why it makes me uncomfortable. And, I think I’ve identified two reasons for my disquiet.
First, I realized that I’m not sure what I’d attempt if I knew I’d succeed at it. That is, I haven’t allowed my dreams to get that big. The questions begs me to dream of something big and grand and exciting, and my imagination can’t break its boundaries and dream big enough to do the question justice. Since I consider myself a dreamer, I’m really disappointed to realize that I can’t think of some really big, exciting, “totally ludicrous” dream that’s a worthy answer to that question. I’ve somehow fettered my own imagination, and I never realized it until reading that question.
My second problem with that question involves fear. That question suggests that my life is limitless and full of potential, that I can accomplish anything if I want it enough. And, that says that the “prison bars” I see in my life are of my own making. That is, the things that keep me from the mundane, “realistic” successes I think I should have accomplished are barriers and obstacles that I created and imposed on myself.
In other words, that question pointed out two things. I haven’t allowed my imagination and my hopes to soar without limits. And, I haven’t attained the success I want because I haven’t allowed myself to be successful. Now that I’ve realized that, I have two new tasks for my life. First, I want to identify some dreams and aspirations that are worthy of the question. And, I want to break down the barriers and walls I’ve built that are holding me back from reaching those goals.
Ever since reading that question, I’ve been uneasy. You see, I can’t answer it. Now, I think a lot of people I know would struggle to answer it, so I’m probably not alone in realizing I don’t have an answer, But, since I’m the introspective type, I’ve been trying to figure out why I can’t answer the question and why it makes me uncomfortable. And, I think I’ve identified two reasons for my disquiet.
First, I realized that I’m not sure what I’d attempt if I knew I’d succeed at it. That is, I haven’t allowed my dreams to get that big. The questions begs me to dream of something big and grand and exciting, and my imagination can’t break its boundaries and dream big enough to do the question justice. Since I consider myself a dreamer, I’m really disappointed to realize that I can’t think of some really big, exciting, “totally ludicrous” dream that’s a worthy answer to that question. I’ve somehow fettered my own imagination, and I never realized it until reading that question.
My second problem with that question involves fear. That question suggests that my life is limitless and full of potential, that I can accomplish anything if I want it enough. And, that says that the “prison bars” I see in my life are of my own making. That is, the things that keep me from the mundane, “realistic” successes I think I should have accomplished are barriers and obstacles that I created and imposed on myself.
In other words, that question pointed out two things. I haven’t allowed my imagination and my hopes to soar without limits. And, I haven’t attained the success I want because I haven’t allowed myself to be successful. Now that I’ve realized that, I have two new tasks for my life. First, I want to identify some dreams and aspirations that are worthy of the question. And, I want to break down the barriers and walls I’ve built that are holding me back from reaching those goals.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
You Can't Go Home Again ... Or Can You?
My step-brother has been posting facebook updates about his pending trip to The Old Pueblo later this week. Some of his notes bring back fond memories, touched with a hint of melancholy and nostalgia. You see, I’m one of those people who believes you can’t go home again.
That sentiment may seem odd, since a great deal of my fictional writings have revolved around the Sonoran desert. My mystery novel draft is set in Tucson. The romance I’m currently penning is set in pioneer Tucson. And, the Sonoran desert played a prominent role in two of the writing exercises for my fiction class this term. But, the Sonoran desert is no longer my home. And, I don’t think it ever could be again.
Each time I’ve revisited Tucson, I always expect the impossible. I assume it will look, smell and feel exactly as it did when I left. In my mind, I “know” what Tucson should be, and it’s frozen in my mind: a “perfect Tucson” or “perfect desert” filled with all of the things I loved and all of my favorite places, while lacking those things I disliked.
But, the actual city and surrounding area never look the same. Some things do but enough has changed to cause a strange kind of vertigo of memory. Revisiting Tucson and the desert causes a clash of memories, as the new changes garishly, violently, forcefully intrude and corrupt my memories, leaving me with feelings of loss, uncertainty and a rage I can't fully explain or express.
Another problem with returning home is the self I bring with me. That is, the person who grew up near Tucson was a different person than I am now. When I return to the desert, one of two things happen. Either I expect to find the person I left behind all those years ago, to recapture the best days of my youth. But, that doesn’t happen.
Or, I subconsciously expect to bring my "new self" with me to the desert. I expect the “me” who is older, wiser, more mature and better able to appreciate what my old home offered to travel with me. Convinced I’ve left the young me behind, I assume all my reactions to Tucson will be filtered through my new perceptions, values and interests. But, the remnants of my childhood home jar my new self and make the visit one fraught with emotion and frustration.
Revisiting a former hometown is a great deal like returning to the family home for the holidays. As you approach the door, you’re an an adult. You probably have some measure of success in your life, perhaps a significant other, children, an education or a job. And, you’re living life according to your own values and needs. But once you cross the threshold into the old family home, the old family dynamic rears its ugly head. Worse still, you’re expected to resume your childhood role within the family dynamic, as if you never left, aged or changed.
Maybe you were the spoiled baby or the only child that everyone doted on. Perhaps you were the overlooked middle sibling, expected to play peacemaker when Mom and Dad fought. Or, you’re the rebellious oldest child, breaking all the rules and pushing the limits. Even though you believe you left those roles behind you when you grew up, you slip back into them, often without realizing it, at family holidays.
Sadly, most people don’t realize how quickly they resume all the bad, dysfunctional habits of the past. But, spouses, children, friends and other onlookers do see it. The addition of these new participants into an existing dynamic causes earthquakes within the family. A spouse or child can’t understand why the rational person they know from their own home suddenly changes into someone they don’t recognize, whose behavior is 180 degrees from what the spouse or child expects. If that person points out these changes, it causes an even greater disruption in the existing dynamic, since now the entire family is alerted to the disparity.
If you return home, you either bring a new self with you, once that no longer fits into the old tapestry. Or, you lose your new self and return to your old role, a role you probably consciously worked to leave behind. No, you can’t go home again.
That sentiment may seem odd, since a great deal of my fictional writings have revolved around the Sonoran desert. My mystery novel draft is set in Tucson. The romance I’m currently penning is set in pioneer Tucson. And, the Sonoran desert played a prominent role in two of the writing exercises for my fiction class this term. But, the Sonoran desert is no longer my home. And, I don’t think it ever could be again.
Each time I’ve revisited Tucson, I always expect the impossible. I assume it will look, smell and feel exactly as it did when I left. In my mind, I “know” what Tucson should be, and it’s frozen in my mind: a “perfect Tucson” or “perfect desert” filled with all of the things I loved and all of my favorite places, while lacking those things I disliked.
But, the actual city and surrounding area never look the same. Some things do but enough has changed to cause a strange kind of vertigo of memory. Revisiting Tucson and the desert causes a clash of memories, as the new changes garishly, violently, forcefully intrude and corrupt my memories, leaving me with feelings of loss, uncertainty and a rage I can't fully explain or express.
Another problem with returning home is the self I bring with me. That is, the person who grew up near Tucson was a different person than I am now. When I return to the desert, one of two things happen. Either I expect to find the person I left behind all those years ago, to recapture the best days of my youth. But, that doesn’t happen.
Or, I subconsciously expect to bring my "new self" with me to the desert. I expect the “me” who is older, wiser, more mature and better able to appreciate what my old home offered to travel with me. Convinced I’ve left the young me behind, I assume all my reactions to Tucson will be filtered through my new perceptions, values and interests. But, the remnants of my childhood home jar my new self and make the visit one fraught with emotion and frustration.
Revisiting a former hometown is a great deal like returning to the family home for the holidays. As you approach the door, you’re an an adult. You probably have some measure of success in your life, perhaps a significant other, children, an education or a job. And, you’re living life according to your own values and needs. But once you cross the threshold into the old family home, the old family dynamic rears its ugly head. Worse still, you’re expected to resume your childhood role within the family dynamic, as if you never left, aged or changed.
Maybe you were the spoiled baby or the only child that everyone doted on. Perhaps you were the overlooked middle sibling, expected to play peacemaker when Mom and Dad fought. Or, you’re the rebellious oldest child, breaking all the rules and pushing the limits. Even though you believe you left those roles behind you when you grew up, you slip back into them, often without realizing it, at family holidays.
Sadly, most people don’t realize how quickly they resume all the bad, dysfunctional habits of the past. But, spouses, children, friends and other onlookers do see it. The addition of these new participants into an existing dynamic causes earthquakes within the family. A spouse or child can’t understand why the rational person they know from their own home suddenly changes into someone they don’t recognize, whose behavior is 180 degrees from what the spouse or child expects. If that person points out these changes, it causes an even greater disruption in the existing dynamic, since now the entire family is alerted to the disparity.
If you return home, you either bring a new self with you, once that no longer fits into the old tapestry. Or, you lose your new self and return to your old role, a role you probably consciously worked to leave behind. No, you can’t go home again.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Old Before My Time But Refusing to Grow Up
Winston Churchill famously said, “Russia is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.” While Churchill was discussing Soviet policy and Russian nationalism, his sentiment has been applied to a broad array of topics, often with “conundrum” replacing “puzzle” in the phrase. And, I think I can safely join the ranks of people and events that are triply perplexing.
This morning serves as an example. I’m reading Twitter posts while listening to a Pandora radio station, built around Harry Connick Jr. Many songs on the station are by Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, Bobby Darin, Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. I’m also getting a few songs by Harry Connick, Diana Krall, John Pizzarelli (a personal favorite) and Michael Buble. (Truthfully, I could do with less Buble and more Dean Martin but whatever.) I’m bopping along to artists who were in their prime long before I was born and loving every minute of it.
At first glance, this is “old people’s music”. Some might argue that a person like me, in my late 30s, shouldn’t prefer this genre of music. But, the older I get, the more I love listening to jazz and classical. I’m still a fan of rock and pop but I rarely listen to country anymore, which was the mainstay of my adolescent years. Back in high school, listening to country was a great way to be deliberately weird. I’ve always liked doing things that made others shake their heads and say, “That’s just Ruth being Ruth.” I’m sure most of my family already knew it but I deliberately cultivate the loner-oddball persona. There, I admitted it. Ha!
Of course, I also still have my childlike traits too (some might say I’m childish, but I digress). I happily pour over the ThinkGeek website and I covet the working lightsabers they sell. I can’t justify spending over $100 for a lightsaber. But man, I’d love to have one! I can just picture having a lightsaber duel with Jen some evening during the summer. We’d have such fun! And, it would terrify the cats, which is an added bonus.
I guess in some ways I’m fortunate. I think I’d have been a grumpy old woman long before my time but Jen keeps me from taking myself too seriously. We’re still able to laugh and goof around, which keeps us young, I think. I just hope we can sustain that into our gray years.
This morning serves as an example. I’m reading Twitter posts while listening to a Pandora radio station, built around Harry Connick Jr. Many songs on the station are by Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, Bobby Darin, Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. I’m also getting a few songs by Harry Connick, Diana Krall, John Pizzarelli (a personal favorite) and Michael Buble. (Truthfully, I could do with less Buble and more Dean Martin but whatever.) I’m bopping along to artists who were in their prime long before I was born and loving every minute of it.
At first glance, this is “old people’s music”. Some might argue that a person like me, in my late 30s, shouldn’t prefer this genre of music. But, the older I get, the more I love listening to jazz and classical. I’m still a fan of rock and pop but I rarely listen to country anymore, which was the mainstay of my adolescent years. Back in high school, listening to country was a great way to be deliberately weird. I’ve always liked doing things that made others shake their heads and say, “That’s just Ruth being Ruth.” I’m sure most of my family already knew it but I deliberately cultivate the loner-oddball persona. There, I admitted it. Ha!
Of course, I also still have my childlike traits too (some might say I’m childish, but I digress). I happily pour over the ThinkGeek website and I covet the working lightsabers they sell. I can’t justify spending over $100 for a lightsaber. But man, I’d love to have one! I can just picture having a lightsaber duel with Jen some evening during the summer. We’d have such fun! And, it would terrify the cats, which is an added bonus.
I guess in some ways I’m fortunate. I think I’d have been a grumpy old woman long before my time but Jen keeps me from taking myself too seriously. We’re still able to laugh and goof around, which keeps us young, I think. I just hope we can sustain that into our gray years.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Post-Grammy Thoughts
This post is a day overdue but I thought writing about the Grammys could be fun. Here are a few thoughts that are still with me, the morning after the 53rd Annual Grammy Awards:
1. I am THRILLED that Justin Bieber didn’t win last night. Since I was accused of being a closet Bieber fan, I want to state clearly here: I DO NOT like him or his music. Frankly, I have cats that could write better song lyrics. To finally put that nasty rumor to rest, my most recent “guilty pleasure” artist is Lady GaGa.
2. Speaking of Lady GaGa, I was underwhelmed by her Grammy performance. Perhaps it’s a case of setting the bar too high but I really expected a more flamboyant show from her. The egg was an interesting idea but I expected it to build from there.
3. By the way, what was wrong with the crowd at the Grammys? Why the lackluster response to The Mick? When Mick Jagger asks if you’re having a good time, you scream until the roof collapses. I don’t care HOW big a star you are! (And, I love that Cyndi Lauper and LL Cool J were both in the front row and rockin’ out while Mick strutted. That’s the way to do it!)
4. I’m still mulling over the supergroup Letterman proposed in his top ten list, which was “Lady Antebellum + Lady GaGa = Lady Antegagem”. What would we call that genre of music? Country Glam? Glamtry? Would it finally break “the lavender ceiling” at the Grand Ol’ Opry? And, can someone send me a mashup of “I Need You Now” and “Telephone”? Pretty please?
5. And, speaking of glam, I’m still not sure what to think about Cee Lo Green’s performance with Gwyneth Paltrow. I kind of liked it because it reminded me of Elton John’s appearance on The Muppet Show, back when he was still flamboyant (before he started writing Broadway and film scores and was knighted). But, I’m not a “Glee” fan so I don’t know if Paltrow’s inclusion was really necessary. I do know the performance made me think I’d accidentally taken drugs, which frightened me.
6. Speaking of drugs, I must give a huge shout-out to Rob Thomas. He was tweeting as he watched the Grammys last night, even though he usually doesn’t watch awards shows. Talk about some interesting insights and some outright hilarious quips. His comments on Marc Anthony were priceless. Following his feed is an excellent reason to have a Twitter account.
1. I am THRILLED that Justin Bieber didn’t win last night. Since I was accused of being a closet Bieber fan, I want to state clearly here: I DO NOT like him or his music. Frankly, I have cats that could write better song lyrics. To finally put that nasty rumor to rest, my most recent “guilty pleasure” artist is Lady GaGa.
2. Speaking of Lady GaGa, I was underwhelmed by her Grammy performance. Perhaps it’s a case of setting the bar too high but I really expected a more flamboyant show from her. The egg was an interesting idea but I expected it to build from there.
3. By the way, what was wrong with the crowd at the Grammys? Why the lackluster response to The Mick? When Mick Jagger asks if you’re having a good time, you scream until the roof collapses. I don’t care HOW big a star you are! (And, I love that Cyndi Lauper and LL Cool J were both in the front row and rockin’ out while Mick strutted. That’s the way to do it!)
4. I’m still mulling over the supergroup Letterman proposed in his top ten list, which was “Lady Antebellum + Lady GaGa = Lady Antegagem”. What would we call that genre of music? Country Glam? Glamtry? Would it finally break “the lavender ceiling” at the Grand Ol’ Opry? And, can someone send me a mashup of “I Need You Now” and “Telephone”? Pretty please?
5. And, speaking of glam, I’m still not sure what to think about Cee Lo Green’s performance with Gwyneth Paltrow. I kind of liked it because it reminded me of Elton John’s appearance on The Muppet Show, back when he was still flamboyant (before he started writing Broadway and film scores and was knighted). But, I’m not a “Glee” fan so I don’t know if Paltrow’s inclusion was really necessary. I do know the performance made me think I’d accidentally taken drugs, which frightened me.
6. Speaking of drugs, I must give a huge shout-out to Rob Thomas. He was tweeting as he watched the Grammys last night, even though he usually doesn’t watch awards shows. Talk about some interesting insights and some outright hilarious quips. His comments on Marc Anthony were priceless. Following his feed is an excellent reason to have a Twitter account.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Guilty Pleasures
I’ve been thinking a lot about guilty pleasures the last few days. No, not the really deep, dark “secret pleasures” of the x-rated variety. Frankly, that’s a topic that I’d rather not consider, let alone discuss, on my blog. What people do in the privacy of their own homes isn’t of interest to me. I don’t want to hear about anyone’s secret fantasies or favorite bedroom activities. Oddly, though, people are always confiding things like that to me and I have no idea why. But, I digress.
Instead, I’m talking about those, “Gee, I’d be so embarrassed if anyone knew I listened to this musician or watched that TV show”-type of guilty pleasures. My ruminations were prompted by some new songs Jen and I bought and downloaded the other evening. Several of the songs were ones I selected by an artist I swore I would never own (and who shall remain unnamed). Glancing through our music collection, Jen started teasing me about the playlist I could create with the title “Guilty Pleasures.” Somehow, I’ve collected a fairly decent list of songs and musicians that I’d be embarrassed for my friends to know I liked.
Some of the songs that fit within that category are songs like, “Guitarzan” by Ray Stevens. It’s a silly song I remember fondly from my childhood. But, it’s not a song I want coming on while I’m driving with the windows down or when a friend rings the doorbell. Knowing my luck, I’d be belting that song at the top of my lungs, glance over and see my boss’s boss sitting in the car next to me, watching me. And, that’s when I want to crawl under the seat and hide.
Other songs that would fit into my “guilty pleasures” playlist are songs and musicians I’m too old to like but, somehow, have acquired. This category includes that unnamed artist and a whole host of others, including artists like The Backstreet Boys. Yes, I confess it. I liked some of their songs. I still do, in fact, and think they’d make a dandy addition to a “guilty pleasures” playlist. However, I certainly don’t want my friends or family dropping by while I have their music cranked and am singing and dancing around the living room.
Perhaps the bigger question is, why am I afraid to own my “guilty pleasures”? That is, why does the thought of someone teasing me about them bother me? Would my family and friends really tease me if they knew I liked those musicians and TV shows? And, why do I care if people do mock or tease me?
After all, I’ve been teased and mocked most of my life. In fact, I often think I deliberately invite that sort of good-natured ribbing. I’ve always considered myself to be an iconoclast, a bit of a lone wolf, someone who has always bucked the trends and marched to a different drummer. I’ve embraced and even cultivated that image, hoping to make it reality. So, if I am proud of my individuality (and I am), then why would I worry if someone thought my musical choices or TV programs were silly? I like them and I don’t really care if others don’t. So, why be shy about sharing my interests?
I don’t really have any answers to those questions. But, I plan to consider them at greater length. I think finding answers to those questions may help me in my larger goal for 2011 and my 39th year on the planet. That goal is to gain a better understanding of myself in order to live more authentically, with greater insights into what will make me happy, what I want to do with my talents and how I can use them to help others.
To close this post, I’ll ask my readers: What are you guilty pleasures? Which TV shows or musicians do you like but never want to admit? And, more importantly, why do you like them? What do they give you that other shows or musicians don’t?
Instead, I’m talking about those, “Gee, I’d be so embarrassed if anyone knew I listened to this musician or watched that TV show”-type of guilty pleasures. My ruminations were prompted by some new songs Jen and I bought and downloaded the other evening. Several of the songs were ones I selected by an artist I swore I would never own (and who shall remain unnamed). Glancing through our music collection, Jen started teasing me about the playlist I could create with the title “Guilty Pleasures.” Somehow, I’ve collected a fairly decent list of songs and musicians that I’d be embarrassed for my friends to know I liked.
Some of the songs that fit within that category are songs like, “Guitarzan” by Ray Stevens. It’s a silly song I remember fondly from my childhood. But, it’s not a song I want coming on while I’m driving with the windows down or when a friend rings the doorbell. Knowing my luck, I’d be belting that song at the top of my lungs, glance over and see my boss’s boss sitting in the car next to me, watching me. And, that’s when I want to crawl under the seat and hide.
Other songs that would fit into my “guilty pleasures” playlist are songs and musicians I’m too old to like but, somehow, have acquired. This category includes that unnamed artist and a whole host of others, including artists like The Backstreet Boys. Yes, I confess it. I liked some of their songs. I still do, in fact, and think they’d make a dandy addition to a “guilty pleasures” playlist. However, I certainly don’t want my friends or family dropping by while I have their music cranked and am singing and dancing around the living room.
Perhaps the bigger question is, why am I afraid to own my “guilty pleasures”? That is, why does the thought of someone teasing me about them bother me? Would my family and friends really tease me if they knew I liked those musicians and TV shows? And, why do I care if people do mock or tease me?
After all, I’ve been teased and mocked most of my life. In fact, I often think I deliberately invite that sort of good-natured ribbing. I’ve always considered myself to be an iconoclast, a bit of a lone wolf, someone who has always bucked the trends and marched to a different drummer. I’ve embraced and even cultivated that image, hoping to make it reality. So, if I am proud of my individuality (and I am), then why would I worry if someone thought my musical choices or TV programs were silly? I like them and I don’t really care if others don’t. So, why be shy about sharing my interests?
I don’t really have any answers to those questions. But, I plan to consider them at greater length. I think finding answers to those questions may help me in my larger goal for 2011 and my 39th year on the planet. That goal is to gain a better understanding of myself in order to live more authentically, with greater insights into what will make me happy, what I want to do with my talents and how I can use them to help others.
To close this post, I’ll ask my readers: What are you guilty pleasures? Which TV shows or musicians do you like but never want to admit? And, more importantly, why do you like them? What do they give you that other shows or musicians don’t?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Inspiration in Troubling Times
Over the last couple of weeks, pro-democracy groups in Tunisia, Yemen and Egypt have protested corrupt governments. In response to the unrest, some leaders have left while others have promised to step down from their positions when their current terms are complete. Other nations, including Jordan, have taken steps to remove corrupt governments simply because they feared civil unrest like that seen in Egypt. The western nations, while encouraging democracy, are concerned that Islamic extremist parties will step into power in these troubled places and increase the number of states that sponsor terrorism.
Frankly, I think the West needs to stay out of these disputes and finally walk our talk. That is, we claim we want everyone to live under democracy but we don’t admit that we think democracy must look like America’s version. Our version of democracy, while appropriate for us, may not work for everyone. And, I’m sick of our government propping up dictators because we fear a democratically elected Communist or Islamic extremist government. We simply need to step aside and let other peoples choose the course and government that suits their needs. This isn’t a case where one one correct form of democracy exists. Many forms are possible, and we must finally allow others to choose a version different from ours.
In these confusing and troubling times, I found myself drawn to watching epic, award-winning films. This past week, I screened “Gandhi”, “Lawrence of Arabia”, “Something the Lord Made” and “Glory”. And, I may still watch “Schindler’s List”. Each of these films examines the human condition and the courage it takes to stand firm for an ideal. In times like these, when the world nervously watches Middle Eastern and African nations set a new, undefined course, literature, film and theatre may serve as escapes from the troubling events on the news. And, they can also model how one chooses a new course and stands on a principle.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Friends and Inspiration
Among the blessings in my life, I must count the friends I’ve made over the years. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I’ve reestablished contact with old school friends, former colleagues and my extended family. And, as I read about the events in their lives online, I’m humbled and grateful to have a role, albeit a small one, in their worlds. So many of them are living remarkable lives and accomplishing amazing things. I’d like to highlight just a few of the stories that have touched me over the past year.
In high school, I was fortunate to share a music stand with a talented young woman in our school chorus. As often happens, I lost touch with my classmate after high school, because we both moved to different places for college and then started our own lives. We reconnected online and I was thrilled to hear she had pursued a music career and has some recordings to her credit. Her professional success came with a price, however. Her husband, who was a member of her musical group and its manager, was emotionally and physically abusive. And, as often happens, the abuse increased when she had a daughter. Now, my old friend is going through an ugly, messy divorce, trying to protect her child from this predatory monster. My friend’s courage through all this is awesome to behold. My heart aches for the pain she is feeling but I know she’ll survive and thrive when her ex is no longer a part of her life.
When I was a project manager, my employer was fortunate to have one of the most dedicated, hardworking employees I’ve known as the warehouse manager. He kept the warehouse inventory organized, moved enormous volumes of material each day, and found new ways to improve service while reducing costs. He managed all that while also being the kind of supervisor that people love working for, one who trusts his staff to be professional and rewarding them for extraordinary efforts. He kept his crew working hard but they respected him and gave him their best efforts. After leaving the company, I learned he had started his own landscaping business. The timing was ideal, as Jen and I had purchased a home and needed some help with maintaining the yards. My former colleague gave us exceptional service for the time we had the house. And, he made the place gorgeous when we had it on the market. I’m convinced it sold because he kept the yards and plantings so well maintained. He sold his business and returned to inventory management for another company. He and his wife are doing well and I’m thrilled to stay in touch and hear how happy he is. He’s one of those “good guys” that isn’t often celebrated. So, I’ll celebrate him here.
My family is rather large, with cousins, aunts and uncles located all over the U.S. As a result, I don’t know my cousins quite as well as I’d like. Being the baby of the family and having my parents divorce when I was young made large family get-togethers less likely. Fortunately, I’m back in touch with my extended family online. And, I’m amazed and humbled by all that they have accomplished. One of my cousins has a daughter in college. Her son will soon graduate high school. She’s now single and works full-time as a media person for the public school system in her city. She is also taking classes and making a fresh start on life, looking for new skills to learn and a new career. Perhaps the most impressive thing she’s doing is working as a volunteer for the American Cancer Society. And, when I say she’s a volunteer, I mean she has turned her volunteer work into a second, unpaid job. She often organizes events, coordinates volunteer teams and works harder than anyone else to raise money for a good cause.
To round out this post, I’d like to highlight a new friend I’ve made. As my Facebook contacts know, I’ve been obsessed with the musical “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson” during the past year. Sadly, the show’s Broadway run ended yesterday. During its run, Jen and I saw it a few times and had a chance to meet several of the actors and musicians in the show. The young star of the show truly amazed us. Not only is he a talented young actor with incredible comedic timing but he is also a gifted singer and a good-looking young man. Before his show moved to Broadway, he had an opportunity to play a villain in one of the X-Men movies in Hollywood. This talented young man turned down that opportunity and chose to bring his “BBAJ” performance to Broadway. Each time we’ve talked with this young man, Jen and I have been amazed at how soft-spoken, shy and humble he is. He’s in his late 20s and was recently engaged to a young actress, whose mother is one of Hollywood’s biggest A-List stars. The New York theatre critics are raving about his work and many people think he’ll be nominated for a Tony Award for his work as Andrew Jackson. And yet, when you mention this to him, he seems embarrassed by the attention. I sent him a friend request on Facebook, assuming he wouldn’t accept it. I thought I’d try, in hopes of hearing about his future projects so we can see other shows he’s in. Amazingly, he accepted my friend request. How’s that for humble? This young man is on the cusp of big-time celebrity. And, he’s willing to befriend someone he only met a couple of times who admires him as an artist. Pretty classy, eh?
Quiet Strength
In high school, I was fortunate to share a music stand with a talented young woman in our school chorus. As often happens, I lost touch with my classmate after high school, because we both moved to different places for college and then started our own lives. We reconnected online and I was thrilled to hear she had pursued a music career and has some recordings to her credit. Her professional success came with a price, however. Her husband, who was a member of her musical group and its manager, was emotionally and physically abusive. And, as often happens, the abuse increased when she had a daughter. Now, my old friend is going through an ugly, messy divorce, trying to protect her child from this predatory monster. My friend’s courage through all this is awesome to behold. My heart aches for the pain she is feeling but I know she’ll survive and thrive when her ex is no longer a part of her life.
A True “Good Guy”
When I was a project manager, my employer was fortunate to have one of the most dedicated, hardworking employees I’ve known as the warehouse manager. He kept the warehouse inventory organized, moved enormous volumes of material each day, and found new ways to improve service while reducing costs. He managed all that while also being the kind of supervisor that people love working for, one who trusts his staff to be professional and rewarding them for extraordinary efforts. He kept his crew working hard but they respected him and gave him their best efforts. After leaving the company, I learned he had started his own landscaping business. The timing was ideal, as Jen and I had purchased a home and needed some help with maintaining the yards. My former colleague gave us exceptional service for the time we had the house. And, he made the place gorgeous when we had it on the market. I’m convinced it sold because he kept the yards and plantings so well maintained. He sold his business and returned to inventory management for another company. He and his wife are doing well and I’m thrilled to stay in touch and hear how happy he is. He’s one of those “good guys” that isn’t often celebrated. So, I’ll celebrate him here.
Volunteer and Reinvent
My family is rather large, with cousins, aunts and uncles located all over the U.S. As a result, I don’t know my cousins quite as well as I’d like. Being the baby of the family and having my parents divorce when I was young made large family get-togethers less likely. Fortunately, I’m back in touch with my extended family online. And, I’m amazed and humbled by all that they have accomplished. One of my cousins has a daughter in college. Her son will soon graduate high school. She’s now single and works full-time as a media person for the public school system in her city. She is also taking classes and making a fresh start on life, looking for new skills to learn and a new career. Perhaps the most impressive thing she’s doing is working as a volunteer for the American Cancer Society. And, when I say she’s a volunteer, I mean she has turned her volunteer work into a second, unpaid job. She often organizes events, coordinates volunteer teams and works harder than anyone else to raise money for a good cause.
The Future Celebrity
To round out this post, I’d like to highlight a new friend I’ve made. As my Facebook contacts know, I’ve been obsessed with the musical “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson” during the past year. Sadly, the show’s Broadway run ended yesterday. During its run, Jen and I saw it a few times and had a chance to meet several of the actors and musicians in the show. The young star of the show truly amazed us. Not only is he a talented young actor with incredible comedic timing but he is also a gifted singer and a good-looking young man. Before his show moved to Broadway, he had an opportunity to play a villain in one of the X-Men movies in Hollywood. This talented young man turned down that opportunity and chose to bring his “BBAJ” performance to Broadway. Each time we’ve talked with this young man, Jen and I have been amazed at how soft-spoken, shy and humble he is. He’s in his late 20s and was recently engaged to a young actress, whose mother is one of Hollywood’s biggest A-List stars. The New York theatre critics are raving about his work and many people think he’ll be nominated for a Tony Award for his work as Andrew Jackson. And yet, when you mention this to him, he seems embarrassed by the attention. I sent him a friend request on Facebook, assuming he wouldn’t accept it. I thought I’d try, in hopes of hearing about his future projects so we can see other shows he’s in. Amazingly, he accepted my friend request. How’s that for humble? This young man is on the cusp of big-time celebrity. And, he’s willing to befriend someone he only met a couple of times who admires him as an artist. Pretty classy, eh?
Monday, January 3, 2011
Looking Forward
I am not the kind of person that makes New Year’s resolutions, for several reasons. On those occasions when I made them, I usually failed to keep them. And, I would rather look at each day as a chance to make a new start. I don’t have to wait for a new year, a new month or even a Monday to make improvements or rededicate myself to the things that matter. I can do that at any time. Like most people, though, I’m not as dedicated to that principle as I should be. But, each day has that potential and change doesn’t have wait for the “right date” on the calendar.
While I resist the urge to make resolutions for the coming year, the turning of a calendar does prompt some self-reflective moments. And, I’m not immune to the calendar’s effects. Rather than making a list of things I’ll do differently or better in the coming year, I want to focus on what I already have. This idea is prompted by a friend who used the month of November to count her blessings and be thankful each day for something she has. I’ll try doing something similar for the month of January. My hope is that reflecting on what I already have will motivate me to make better choices in the coming year, since I do have so many blessings already.
I’m trying to decide which blessing should start my list. I have so much to be thankful for and picking one to start the new year is difficult. So, I’ll start with the most obvious item: Jen. I am incredibly blessed to have Jen in my life. I truly never thought I would find someone to spend my life with. I always assumed I’d be one of those eternally single people. I thought I’d have a career, a small apartment and a cat for company. Maybe a few close friends to meet occasionally for dinner or a movie. But, I always assumed most of my time would be spent alone. I never imagined my life would be filled with love, laughter and a shared vision of a life together. I can survive the tough challenges because Jen helps me get through them. And, the good times are that much better with her laughter as their soundtrack and her sparkling, blue eyes illuminating them.
It’s fitting that Jen starts my list of blessings, since so many of the things I enjoy stem from our marriage. Here’s to a bright new year, when we will celebrate our 18th anniversary!
While I resist the urge to make resolutions for the coming year, the turning of a calendar does prompt some self-reflective moments. And, I’m not immune to the calendar’s effects. Rather than making a list of things I’ll do differently or better in the coming year, I want to focus on what I already have. This idea is prompted by a friend who used the month of November to count her blessings and be thankful each day for something she has. I’ll try doing something similar for the month of January. My hope is that reflecting on what I already have will motivate me to make better choices in the coming year, since I do have so many blessings already.
I’m trying to decide which blessing should start my list. I have so much to be thankful for and picking one to start the new year is difficult. So, I’ll start with the most obvious item: Jen. I am incredibly blessed to have Jen in my life. I truly never thought I would find someone to spend my life with. I always assumed I’d be one of those eternally single people. I thought I’d have a career, a small apartment and a cat for company. Maybe a few close friends to meet occasionally for dinner or a movie. But, I always assumed most of my time would be spent alone. I never imagined my life would be filled with love, laughter and a shared vision of a life together. I can survive the tough challenges because Jen helps me get through them. And, the good times are that much better with her laughter as their soundtrack and her sparkling, blue eyes illuminating them.
It’s fitting that Jen starts my list of blessings, since so many of the things I enjoy stem from our marriage. Here’s to a bright new year, when we will celebrate our 18th anniversary!
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