Thankfulness

My favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner is when we go around the table and say what we're thankful for.  I know it can be cheesy, but vocalizing the blessings you've received is an incredibly humbling and enlightening experience.  This year my big thanks was for things not going according to plan.  Given my profession, I obviously have lists of far-reaching strategies for each next step in my life. After grad school I expected to be starting over in some new city with some fancy new job, not working two sorta planning jobs back in Michigan.  But only because things went unaccordingly did I get to run the Turkey Trot downtown after not enough sleep, spend two Thanksgiving dinners with wonderful people, play the guitar in a trio, play board games that I previously thought too difficult, and spend memorable times with my best friend and her (my second) family.  In these last few unexpected months, I've been blessed by closer relationships and unbridled happiness because of them. I sometimes get too hung up on my career path - afraid that I'll lose it all if one step is in the wrong direction.  The non-plan is teaching me patience, and reminding me that sometimes we need to be built up by people who love us before we're ready to go chase the next dream.

People who know me well know that I experience occassional "moments of perfection" where I can feel every one of my five senses and the world seems flawless and heavenly for its mundanity.  This quotation explains that more eloquently than I ever could:

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures."

I'm thankful that I believe in a God that I can thank.  Every breath in my lungs, step that I take, color I perceive, and person I love feels like a gift and a promise that there's still some reason that I'm alive.  I get all of these wonderful sensations of life every day, knowing that I'm receiving them so I can give something back.  Gratitude is pretty grand. 

One thing

As I wait around in Michigan, filling my days with potentially worthwhile activities, I wonder where to go from here.  After a few job interviews I have some prospects (all in Mich).  But I wonder whether I should take the first thing that comes along or hold out for my dream job.  Right now I'm pretty comfortable as far as the necessities of life go.  But my passion and my ambition are all welling up and pissed off and ready to change the world.  As nice as it is to be "home," I think this stay is coming to a close.  I know my family wants me to settle around here, and someday maybe I'll be back.  But I want so much more than a comfortable life.  I don't trust comfort.  It lures you into laziness.  It dulls your ambition.  It keeps you from creating. 

One of my friends has this philosophy on life: you can only have one thing that is your number one priority.  I tried to argue with him at first - I mean, can't you have a career and a family that are equally important to you?  The answer is no.  One of them has to come first.  You can fit a lot of things into your day and therefore a lot of priorities onto your list, but at the end of all of it you can only chase one dream at a time.  That one dream determines your life's direction.  You can follow the boy/girl of your affection to a new place, or you can follow your career somewhere else.  Dreams can coincide but they require someone to compromise something else. 

I dunno what my one thing is.  I think it's a career...or maybe just freedom?   I want to make the world better - that's why I want a career.  I want money so I can be free.  To me freedom = not needing a car, being able to pay student loans, and going on lots of adventures.  The question is how long do I sit in comfort before chasing these dreams?  Is someone going to drop the opportunity in my lap, or do I need the pressure of uncertainty to get myself going?

Ah the coffee-induced musings of a Monday morning.

Love you for reading,

K

We all fall down

I hate fall. Most of my friends know this well. I'm trying to figure out why I hate it so when everyone else loves it. I've come to the following conclusions:

1. Evolutionary Psychology

For millions of years, humans feared impending winter because they may or may not have enough food/warmth to survive. During the autumn harvest our ancestors assessed whether they had enough crops and livestock to make it through the coming cold months. So it's scary in my bones because fall = beginning of winter = possibly impending doom

2. Fear of School/Work

Fall = school (until this year). School = work. Work = anxiety. Throughout my education, I was flooded with anxiety whenever I got an intense homework assignment. The best illustration was in third grade. My teacher was kind of an ice queen bitch, although I didn't realize this at the time. (She had all our names on the board with two stars next to each. If we did something wrong or didn't do our homework we'd have to erase a star. So much pressure and public humiliation!) Anyway, whenever I got homework in that class I distinctly remember pushing it behind my bed. I don't know why I thought this would solve the problem. I had tons and tons of papers behind my bed. I thought I could ignore them if I couldn't see them. All the way through grad school I would put off doing intense projects for as long as I could, feeling anxiety about them all the while. The funny thing is, actual school work has never been hard for me and I've always gotten good grades. And once I start doing the work it was usually fun and enjoyable. Maybe I just hate things hanging over my head?

3. Fear of Future/The Unknown

Following from fall=ing school, fall marks the new year for me. (I know January 1st is technically the new year but anyone who's gone to school for 20 years knows that it's actually around September 1. Who starts a new job or moves somewhere new in January? No one. Arbitrary, false new year.) Anyway...when starting school you never know who your friends will be or how your classes will go or whether you'll make the team or the play. Your life rhythms haven't been set. And without rhythm life is scary.

Now that fear is magnified cuz I do have a rhythm and it primarily involves pajamas, tea and television. I thought I'd be settled w/ a job by now and I'm obviously not - which is ok...I'm sure I'll get one soon. But I'm also thinking of alternate options and whether I should give myself deadlines before I give up on planning and become a waitress or an Indonesian medicine woman. Fall was my intended deadline for...having some sort of plan? Here it is. I'm still planless.

In conclusion, I'm not really as worried as this all sounds. Generally I internalize my worries without consciously realizing what that feeling in the pit of my stomach is all about. I feel pretty at peace at the moment, despite limited prospects. I just wonder how long to feel peaceful before I go crazy and run away somewhere. Wanna run away with me?

Thanks for reading,

-K

A long time coming

I've been meaning to write a blog for a while, mostly about where I am right now...both figuratively and literally. Said phase started about a month and a half ago when driving back to Michigan (defeated) from Philly by way of Boston. Crossing the Canadian border, car stuffed to the ceiling with all my possessions, I hoped silently that I wouldn't be searched or asked any difficult questions. Apparently I couldn't even field the easy ones because "Where do you live?" took me by surprise and I hardly had any sensible answer to give. "Well you see I don't have an address right now because I'm moving back to my parents' house from Philadelphia where I used to live when I was in grad school but now I've graduated and I don't have a job so I'm ...." Unfortunately that sentence isn't an exaggeration. I was incoherent. They were merciful.

Almost two months later, I'm still trying to answer that question. Each sent application leaves a new dream in its wake of my possible new life in whatever random place - NYC or Arlington, VA or West Hollywood. I've got a few promising things in the works but no strong idea of where I'll be next. This transition zone is nothing new however. For the last two years I've been deferring other decisions because of grad school. "I'll figure that out once I graduate and get a job." The job was supposed to be the thing that put me where I'm supposed to be. Now there is no job, and I'm living in nowheresville (the suburbs) just waiting for the call that will send me away to the future or present where I belong.

Some of my friends coupled during grad school and chose their new destinations together. Other friends picked a city and decided to go there no matter what. They prioritized the place or the relationship over the blank career possibilities and seem to be content with those choices. I wonder whether I'm going about this the right way. I feel like my self-proclaimed transitionary stage just enabled my cowardice on other decisions. I haven't decided where I want to be or who I want to be with. In the last two years I acted in ways that didn't accurately reflect myself but oh well, I was transitioning right? It sounds like bs.

I really think that the world is changing all the time. Our mobile, noncommittal generation may indeed be able to change their lives at the drop of a hat - but all any of us really want is something real to stay still. I think it takes more courage to say "I want this one thing no matter what, even if everything else changes. I want him or her with me or I want to be with my family or I want to live in NYC or ... I want to be president someday.

Maybe it sounds crazy, but maybe choosing something other than your job is the best impetus for the next step of life. The real risk is admitting that you want something more permanent than a job. Jobs change every couple of years. What if you pick a relationship and say, hell, I want to give this a real shot. Or jaysis, I'd rather be close to home so I can be an aunty. Or I have to live in New York before I'm thirty. Or I want to be president and everything I do from here on out will be for that. Jobs (even in this economy) will always be around. The real risks are the chances at relationships or dreams that you might never get again. In any case, maybe we should just go for it - with or without the security (paycheck) that we'd hoped for.

Seven days of rain...

Yet another rainy day
Hair inflates like a balloon
Soul shrinks like steamed spinach

On falling apart

Life is falling apart.  Not to be dramatic.  chuckle chuckle.  the sun still seems to be shining but some invisible economy is crumbling.  bad guys are taking all the money for themselves and we're all losing our jobs.  but we have magic machines in our pockets which allow us to connect to anyone, anywhere, in an instant.  we can see other worlds instantly.  we can get on flying machines that actually take us anywhere in the world in a matter of hours.  life is a strange juxtaposition of what we feel and what we've heard is actually happening.  the magic that is the reality of our lives is lost compared to the ever-impending dark clouds of fear.

i am a part of this mess.  i am falling apart while trying to hold it together.  everything means everything and nothing.  i care so much that i don't care at all.  i want to run away from everything i know but i'm scared to death of starting over all over again.  i envy those friends who are settled, or at least more settled than i.  i envy their relationship security, their teamwork, their intimacy.  and yet i would feel entirely stifled and trapped in their position right now.  grad school is by definition a transitory space.  Here comes another huge transition since the one just two years ago, and when it's over i'll have no idea where i belong in the world or to whom i belong.  i wish i smoked because i think a cigarette would do me good.

Whenever i have fits of mental discomfort, i image i'm made of hard-boiled egg and slice myself in one of these.

  

Hi all,

I've got a relatively fun post for today.  My friend Paddytime sent me this questionnaire from 'Inside the Actor's Studio' with James Lipton.  It was actually pretty hard to think of answers.  Anyway, here goes.

What is your favorite word?  Design

What is your least favorite word? Moist

What turns you on?  A good vocabulary

What turns you off?  Macho-ness

What sound or noise do you love?  Summer wind rustling the leaves of deciduous trees

What sound or noise do you hate?  My alarm clock during childhood

What is your favorite curse word? Friggity frack

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Actress

What profession would you not like to do? Lawyer

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?  I'm glad to see you, but everyone gets in :)

The old man and the father gazelle

But, thank God, they are not as intelligent as we who kill them; although they are more noble and more able.

'I'll kill him though,' he said.  'In all his greatness and his glory.' Although it is unjust, he thought.  But I will show him what a man can do and what a man endures.

He always thought of the sea as la mar which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her...the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favors, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them.

But it is good that we do not have to try to kill the sun or the moon or the stars.  It is enough to live on the sea and kill our true brothers.

Besides, he thought, everything kills everything else in some way.  Fishing kills me exactly as it keeps me alive.

'Ay,' he said aloud.  There is no translation for this word and perhaps it is just a noise such as a man might make, involuntarily, feeling the nail go through his hands and into the wood.

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I woke up at 5:30 this morning after a 24-hour trip back from Abu Dhabi.  One of our stops on the trip was a fishmarket.  I bought The Old Man and the Sea at the airport in Frankfurt on the way home.  I read it this morning as the sun came up.  These are some of my favorite quotations.  If you haven't read it you should.  More on Abu Dhabi to come.

Tuesday Haiku

Public radio morning

Sky spitting snowflakes

Wish you were holding my hand