Dreams. Love. Goals. Heartbreaks. Change. Trials. Happiness. Opportunities. I'm sure the list could go on and on. It's always amazing to me how fast it seems a year can come and go yet how much can occur in those 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days and if you really want to get deep 8,765 hours and some change. When I think about how many times I've said to myself, "There just aren't enough hours in the day" and then look at how many hours are in a year, I wonder if having more would really slow things down or just add to the fire of it's meteoric pace. Either which way, I've been doing some serious reflecting on the past year and after a stroll at the beach yesterday, I finally found the burst of writing drive I was searching for to share all the thoughts I've been storing away in my thought bank, which unfortunately doesn't gain interest of any kind, therefore, it's only right that I share with those who are inclined to read.
I'm sure by now it doesn't take a blog post for me to share with you what big change I went through in 2010. I'm also sure it's no surprise to anyone that within that change also lies accomplishing a major goal, jumping on an incredible opportunity that all centered around a dream. If you didn't guess my move to San Francisco for work being at the epicenter of that non-surprise, then I don't suggest going on Jeopardy.
As I wrote the intro to this post, I looked back and wondered if I really experienced all of those things. In a lot of ways yes, in some ways not quite, but at least parts of the feelings that come with those experiences. I can say for sure that 2010 was not my year for falling in love, but I can say it was the first year in several years that I sincerely felt that if it came into my life, I was ready for it, and for the right reasons. I can also most certainly say that if it finds me in 2011, I'm still just as ready and if anything, there was at least one experience in 2010 that was the tell all moment which reassured me that I was in fact ready for something special. Heartbreak? Not quite- which is good. Although, I am brought back to a time that was at minimum, confusing and in some ways disheartening, but nothing a short bit of time couldn't take care of which we should all know by now is the key to bouncing back and oftentimes, bouncing back stronger and higher. Trials? Oh sure, if there's someone reading this who doesn't have a few trials throughout their year, then please, stop reading and reveal yourself.
Sometimes I think the most ironic part of my year in 2010 was that the low points of trials, frustrations, disenchantments and pure suckage (Gosh I love when I can throw a good made up word in there that fits well and describes itself) also ended up tying right into my high moments of euphoria, thankfulness, and pure bliss which has really taught me that there's somewhat of an art of resilience that falls into it all.
You see, it was the low moments that made me realize the only person who could change those negative circumstances was myself. It was as if I suddenly saw this recipe of life all around me which consisted of a mixture of dreams and goals, bountiful days of a positive attitude, gallons and liters and barrels of personal strength and personal belief- baked at approximately 98.6 degrees for several months and viola- what once was part of a year that felt stale, dry, partially tasteless turned into the most succulent, rich, and delicious year I could've asked for. The best part about it, I made it all on my own, and so can you.
No matter how fast a year may seem to come and go and no matter how high and how low it may get, the coolest part about life is at the end of the day, we can all make our own batch of goodness- all you need to do is open your pantry of pre-stocked life ingredients and stir away.
Trust me, it's one recipe you won't dislike.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Pretending To Be Tough
One of my favorite moments in life is when a simple conversation turns into an inspiration to write a blog post. Today’s inspiration started with a simple Gmail Chat between one of my dear friends from college. Our conversation had started that day with our shared wanderlust getting in the way of necessary work activities. Talks of, “Let’s go to Tahoe, let’s go to Stagecoach, let’s go to Coachella, you should start thinking about Vegas for the 4th of July.” Yes, that’s how we work- two girls always thinking about the fun that can be had, even if it’s 9 months away. The other unique thing about my friendship with this person is just how much alike we tend to be when it comes to the deeper parts of who we are.
Somehow talks of going to Stagecoach and Coachella turned into a quote being sent my way which then turned into us talking about a shared music love for Ray Lamontagne. I shared with her one of my recent favorite songs by him and admitted that no matter how many times I listen to it, the song nearly brings me to tears- the flow of the lyrics, the meaning behind each word and the connection I make with each of those meanings. She sarcastically (and trust me, I love me some good sarcasm) said, “You’re such a sap.” To which I simply replied, “I know.” The ironic part about this admittance of inner-typical-chick is that for anyone who’s gotten to know me in past years knows I’ve always played, “tough girl”.
As I continued on in my conversation with my friend, I mentioned to her that I’ve come to the realization that I’ve always been a sap on the inside, I’ve just always pretended to be otherwise. When I’ve had my heart broken, I’ve tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, only to find that the more I pretended, the worse I felt and the longer it took to get over it. When I saw something sweet, cute or heart warming, I would brush it off as if it were too girly to react to, only to find myself feeling guilty over the fact that I agreed. When something touched my heart enough to make me feel emotional, I would hold in every tear that even tried to encroach upon my eyes, only to find later they would stream out in the most unlikely of times. When I met a man I really liked and knew I cared for, instead of showing it and admitting it, I typically became someone I wasn’t in order to protect myself from any potential rejection, only to find that usually left me alone.
My friend then said to me, “I’m a sap too and you’re right, as I get older I begin to wonder why bother pretending to be so tough when we should really be wearing our hearts on our sleeves.” And boom, there came the inspiration for this little number you’re reading.
The reality is, I’ve learned that the more time I spent trying to be tough in situations and circumstances that I felt otherwise, the further away I was from who I am on the inside. Now, don’t get me wrong- I know I’m a strong woman and there are times when being tough is important. I mean, working in sports sponsorships isn’t exactly an industry that is conducive for being overly sensitive (thick skin and the ability to let things roll off your shoulders is more or less a requirement for the job), but that doesn’t mean I can’t accept that I have a place inside of me that is inspired by kindness, happiness, romance, tenderness and compassion and the best part about it is the more I’ve begun to accept that this is a part of who I am, the more confident, proud, and happy I feel.
Look at it this way, if on the outside you find yourself saying something that on the inside you instantly know you don’t agree with, but continue to follow what’s being said and done on the outside, then just remember you’re keeping yourself away from a part of you that you should be learning to love. After all, it’s usually best to love the ones you spend the most time with, and if I’m not mistaken whether we like it or not, we spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 12 months a year for however many years we live with none other than: ourselves, so you might as well learn to love, you.
Somehow talks of going to Stagecoach and Coachella turned into a quote being sent my way which then turned into us talking about a shared music love for Ray Lamontagne. I shared with her one of my recent favorite songs by him and admitted that no matter how many times I listen to it, the song nearly brings me to tears- the flow of the lyrics, the meaning behind each word and the connection I make with each of those meanings. She sarcastically (and trust me, I love me some good sarcasm) said, “You’re such a sap.” To which I simply replied, “I know.” The ironic part about this admittance of inner-typical-chick is that for anyone who’s gotten to know me in past years knows I’ve always played, “tough girl”.
As I continued on in my conversation with my friend, I mentioned to her that I’ve come to the realization that I’ve always been a sap on the inside, I’ve just always pretended to be otherwise. When I’ve had my heart broken, I’ve tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, only to find that the more I pretended, the worse I felt and the longer it took to get over it. When I saw something sweet, cute or heart warming, I would brush it off as if it were too girly to react to, only to find myself feeling guilty over the fact that I agreed. When something touched my heart enough to make me feel emotional, I would hold in every tear that even tried to encroach upon my eyes, only to find later they would stream out in the most unlikely of times. When I met a man I really liked and knew I cared for, instead of showing it and admitting it, I typically became someone I wasn’t in order to protect myself from any potential rejection, only to find that usually left me alone.
My friend then said to me, “I’m a sap too and you’re right, as I get older I begin to wonder why bother pretending to be so tough when we should really be wearing our hearts on our sleeves.” And boom, there came the inspiration for this little number you’re reading.
The reality is, I’ve learned that the more time I spent trying to be tough in situations and circumstances that I felt otherwise, the further away I was from who I am on the inside. Now, don’t get me wrong- I know I’m a strong woman and there are times when being tough is important. I mean, working in sports sponsorships isn’t exactly an industry that is conducive for being overly sensitive (thick skin and the ability to let things roll off your shoulders is more or less a requirement for the job), but that doesn’t mean I can’t accept that I have a place inside of me that is inspired by kindness, happiness, romance, tenderness and compassion and the best part about it is the more I’ve begun to accept that this is a part of who I am, the more confident, proud, and happy I feel.
Look at it this way, if on the outside you find yourself saying something that on the inside you instantly know you don’t agree with, but continue to follow what’s being said and done on the outside, then just remember you’re keeping yourself away from a part of you that you should be learning to love. After all, it’s usually best to love the ones you spend the most time with, and if I’m not mistaken whether we like it or not, we spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 12 months a year for however many years we live with none other than: ourselves, so you might as well learn to love, you.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Man Who Stole My Heart
My heart is a place I keep near and dear, a place that only a select few males have ever had access to and even then have really only brushed along the surface. The two men who hold the deepest place in my heart are undoubtedly my younger brothers, but this weekend there was one special man who stole it away.
I had just walked out of seeing my favorite movie genre, which may or may not be a surprise to some, is a romantic comedy. As I said goodbye to my movie partner and headed towards the train I thought about the characters in the movie and the storyline and thought to myself, “Everyone should find that kind of love and romance.” As I waited for the train, a man walked up and at that very moment my heart skipped as if I had seen my biggest crush walk into the room. I couldn’t help but instantly smile, because you see, I had actually seen this man before on a train a few weeks ago. This man has a smile that could literally light a dark sky. His eyes show so much kindness and unconditional happiness. While there are a number of reasons one might hold their look at this man for longer than the average glance, the first time I saw him, I held my glance at the character that illuminated from his face.
When I saw this man for the first time on the train a few weeks prior, my fondest memory was not only his smile but his kindness towards others. I’ll never forget when a woman walked onto the train and had a tough time finding a seat, he moved over and motioned for her to sit in the seat next to him- granted it was crowded, but there was still an open seat. She smiled, and he nodded and gave his big, wide smile. He then proceeded to look at her for a moment, but not in a way that was creepy or disturbing but in a way that showed admiration for she was in fact a pretty girl; and then he turned away and continued to smile.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t help but become immersed in wondering about this man. I wondered where he came from, I wondered if he had family, I wondered what his name was, I wondered if anyone took care of him, I wondered what his childhood was like and I wondered if he’d ever been in love and I as I continued to wonder, the train stopped at his drop off and he was gone.
Seeing this man for the second time at the train station literally took my breath away. Not only was it the first person in the six weeks I had been living in San Francisco that I saw one time and ran into for a second, but for some unexplainable reason, I was just excited that it was him! As he walked to wait for the train, he looked up at me and gave me his ear to ear smile and his token nod that read, “Hello, how are you?” I smiled back and said hello. He shook my hand and pointed to my face and gave me a thumbs up. I responded back with, “Thank you!” His smile became even wider, his eyes even brighter and I asked how he was doing, although I knew he couldn’t respond. He nodded happily. At that moment, I didn’t turn away. Instead I locked eyes with him and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a conversation through eyes and smiles all entirely at this point without words. As the train approached, the man with his shaky hand, took mine and slowly, shakily brought it up to his mouth and gave it a kiss, then another, then another. He then smiled and nodded and we made our way onto the train.
Due to the crowded seats on the train, it was at that point we separated. But, we were still in sight of each other. As I sat there with my heart warm, and tears welling up in my eyes- overwhelmed by what I had just experienced. I continued to watch my new friend as he smiled at those who walked by him. I began to feel protective over those who looked at him strangely and I wondered if I’d ever see him again. Then, as the person next to me left, my new friend got up from his seat, came over to me and pointed to the seat next to me. Would you like to sit here? I asked. He nodded and sat, and once again we met eyes. I told him he had a very nice smile and nodded what I gather was a, “Thank you.” He pointed to my mouth and gave me a thumbs up. He then took his hat off, pointed to my head and made a long hair motion and gave me a thumbs up. I responded again with a, “Thank you”. I asked him if he lived nearby and he nodded and motioned his hand up the hill. As we continued on, the train stopped and he pointed that this was his stop. He shot me his token ear to ear, bright and wide smile, took my hand once again and kissed it one last time. He smiled and limped away, down the stairs and out of the train. Then, just like something out of a movie, he tapped on my window and waved goodbye outside of my window, blew me a kiss and walked off into the dark. This time, tears didn’t just fill my eyes, they poured out of them.
As you can probably gather, my new friend (who I was never able to get the name of) was not your average man who could walk and talk like the average person. Because I’m not a professional in the medical field, I couldn’t tell you what his condition was, but it impaired his ability to speak, caused him to shake quite a bit, impaired his ability to hold things and impaired his walking significantly (perhaps Parkinsins?) But, whatever disease was taking over his body, most certainly had not taken over his spirit. I’ve never in my life felt so connected to one person and had one person steal my heart away so quickly without ever saying a word. I hope everyone can have the chance to meet as fantastic of a person as my new friend and I hope our paths cross again- until then, he’ll have my heart wherever he goes.
I had just walked out of seeing my favorite movie genre, which may or may not be a surprise to some, is a romantic comedy. As I said goodbye to my movie partner and headed towards the train I thought about the characters in the movie and the storyline and thought to myself, “Everyone should find that kind of love and romance.” As I waited for the train, a man walked up and at that very moment my heart skipped as if I had seen my biggest crush walk into the room. I couldn’t help but instantly smile, because you see, I had actually seen this man before on a train a few weeks ago. This man has a smile that could literally light a dark sky. His eyes show so much kindness and unconditional happiness. While there are a number of reasons one might hold their look at this man for longer than the average glance, the first time I saw him, I held my glance at the character that illuminated from his face.
When I saw this man for the first time on the train a few weeks prior, my fondest memory was not only his smile but his kindness towards others. I’ll never forget when a woman walked onto the train and had a tough time finding a seat, he moved over and motioned for her to sit in the seat next to him- granted it was crowded, but there was still an open seat. She smiled, and he nodded and gave his big, wide smile. He then proceeded to look at her for a moment, but not in a way that was creepy or disturbing but in a way that showed admiration for she was in fact a pretty girl; and then he turned away and continued to smile.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t help but become immersed in wondering about this man. I wondered where he came from, I wondered if he had family, I wondered what his name was, I wondered if anyone took care of him, I wondered what his childhood was like and I wondered if he’d ever been in love and I as I continued to wonder, the train stopped at his drop off and he was gone.
Seeing this man for the second time at the train station literally took my breath away. Not only was it the first person in the six weeks I had been living in San Francisco that I saw one time and ran into for a second, but for some unexplainable reason, I was just excited that it was him! As he walked to wait for the train, he looked up at me and gave me his ear to ear smile and his token nod that read, “Hello, how are you?” I smiled back and said hello. He shook my hand and pointed to my face and gave me a thumbs up. I responded back with, “Thank you!” His smile became even wider, his eyes even brighter and I asked how he was doing, although I knew he couldn’t respond. He nodded happily. At that moment, I didn’t turn away. Instead I locked eyes with him and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a conversation through eyes and smiles all entirely at this point without words. As the train approached, the man with his shaky hand, took mine and slowly, shakily brought it up to his mouth and gave it a kiss, then another, then another. He then smiled and nodded and we made our way onto the train.
Due to the crowded seats on the train, it was at that point we separated. But, we were still in sight of each other. As I sat there with my heart warm, and tears welling up in my eyes- overwhelmed by what I had just experienced. I continued to watch my new friend as he smiled at those who walked by him. I began to feel protective over those who looked at him strangely and I wondered if I’d ever see him again. Then, as the person next to me left, my new friend got up from his seat, came over to me and pointed to the seat next to me. Would you like to sit here? I asked. He nodded and sat, and once again we met eyes. I told him he had a very nice smile and nodded what I gather was a, “Thank you.” He pointed to my mouth and gave me a thumbs up. He then took his hat off, pointed to my head and made a long hair motion and gave me a thumbs up. I responded again with a, “Thank you”. I asked him if he lived nearby and he nodded and motioned his hand up the hill. As we continued on, the train stopped and he pointed that this was his stop. He shot me his token ear to ear, bright and wide smile, took my hand once again and kissed it one last time. He smiled and limped away, down the stairs and out of the train. Then, just like something out of a movie, he tapped on my window and waved goodbye outside of my window, blew me a kiss and walked off into the dark. This time, tears didn’t just fill my eyes, they poured out of them.
As you can probably gather, my new friend (who I was never able to get the name of) was not your average man who could walk and talk like the average person. Because I’m not a professional in the medical field, I couldn’t tell you what his condition was, but it impaired his ability to speak, caused him to shake quite a bit, impaired his ability to hold things and impaired his walking significantly (perhaps Parkinsins?) But, whatever disease was taking over his body, most certainly had not taken over his spirit. I’ve never in my life felt so connected to one person and had one person steal my heart away so quickly without ever saying a word. I hope everyone can have the chance to meet as fantastic of a person as my new friend and I hope our paths cross again- until then, he’ll have my heart wherever he goes.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Map of Life
I’ve typed this intro well over 6 or 7 times now. A couple of times sitting from the comforts of a new home in San Francisco, a few times nestled away in an old familiar coffee shop in Seattle and this time snuggled up in my temporary bed back in San Francisco. The difference between this time and the last 5 or 6 is that I think I’m actually going to finish this one.
Those who know me best (a phrase I use too much), know that for one, I’m not the best at putting thoughts into a few short sentences or paragraphs and two, regardless, each word, sentence and paragraph have a purpose tied to the next, and three although many of my writings are centered on personal experience, my purpose in writing them is to share something deeper. With all of those things said, I think my experience tonight has finally rid me of a little thing those who share their thoughts in words call, “Writers Block”.
I should begin (I mean, I should carry on) by saying I really grappled with what I wanted to share in my next tid-bit of writing. Over the last month I’ve experienced situations and feelings I have yet to fully comprehend which is truthfully something I really wanted to write about and also partially why I couldn’t quite get the words out of my finger tips (something about not yet comprehending a massive overload of experiences and feelings makes for a tough way to write…weird, I know). I thought about writing something about a really neat experience I had with my 10 year old sister, which I still plan to write about, but also hadn’t quite dug deep into the place that makes all of this magical little blog come together and there’s no way I’m going to write about someone as special as my sister without giving it everything I have inside of me.
What brought me to tonight’s post was what some could see as a simple question, but what for me struck a chord that was much deeper and stronger. Tonight I met with and got to know a little more a new friend and in getting to know that new friend we began to discuss a variety of things… business, politics, religion, college experiences, and goals. As we exchanged thoughts, beliefs and desires I began to get that little itch which often asks, “Am I doing everything I want to be doing?” The funny thing about my answer (which happened inside of my head as I both listened and spoke) was, “Yes and No”. Just as these thoughts occurred within, my new friend said to me, “How did you choose a career in sports marketing rather than sports journalism? For someone who loves sports and writing, it seems like a natural fit.” It was at that moment that I literally became speechless which was ironic given a few subjects before we both agreed we rarely find a moment when we find ourselves saying, “I don’t know” when it’s in regards to our own lives. However, for me, at that moment my only response to him was, “I don’t know.”
Truth is, my ego and pride told me that was the best answer, but on the inside I was screaming, “Because I’m afraid I can’t” and, “I don’t know how.” Literally, me, little miss, “All you have to do is believe in yourself” was admitting both fear and self-denial. On the flip side of that, there was another part of me that kept feeling like I wasn’t ready and also that perhaps, while I don’t feel ready, I can’t help but feel that if that’s really what I want to do be doing, then I’m on a far closer track than most people who decide to get a degree in teaching only to decide later it’s not the right path.
I wish I could tell you that this experience tonight brought me to some wild epiphany that results in me becoming the next MLB Network broadcaster (my heart just did flips, no joke at the thought of that), but I can tell you that it’s left me with several thoughts. One of those thoughts includes the fact that, if you’re reading this, whether you’re in high school, fresh out of college, a few years out, just starting your career, or deep into it, it’s never too late (and definitely never too early) to both dream and desire.
I know that where I am today is where I need and truthfully, at this very moment, want to be. However, I also know that there’s a drive deep inside of me that will likely never let-up, that will always want, crave and go after what I feel I’m meant to be doing and what I feel I will enjoy doing most. The beauty in all of this tonight is that I am grateful to be in a situation that allows me to be involved with something I love and know that there’s plenty of opportunity to continue on drawing out my own personal map of life.
Regardless of whether you’re like me, 100% committed to what you’re doing now, or like others, sort of content, but not quite convinced or completely unhappy with where you’re at, just know that it’s always okay to wonder, it’s always okay to want more and most of all it’s ALWAYS okay to want the best situation for you and when you know it feels right and when you know you’re ready… write your next place on your map.
Those who know me best (a phrase I use too much), know that for one, I’m not the best at putting thoughts into a few short sentences or paragraphs and two, regardless, each word, sentence and paragraph have a purpose tied to the next, and three although many of my writings are centered on personal experience, my purpose in writing them is to share something deeper. With all of those things said, I think my experience tonight has finally rid me of a little thing those who share their thoughts in words call, “Writers Block”.
I should begin (I mean, I should carry on) by saying I really grappled with what I wanted to share in my next tid-bit of writing. Over the last month I’ve experienced situations and feelings I have yet to fully comprehend which is truthfully something I really wanted to write about and also partially why I couldn’t quite get the words out of my finger tips (something about not yet comprehending a massive overload of experiences and feelings makes for a tough way to write…weird, I know). I thought about writing something about a really neat experience I had with my 10 year old sister, which I still plan to write about, but also hadn’t quite dug deep into the place that makes all of this magical little blog come together and there’s no way I’m going to write about someone as special as my sister without giving it everything I have inside of me.
What brought me to tonight’s post was what some could see as a simple question, but what for me struck a chord that was much deeper and stronger. Tonight I met with and got to know a little more a new friend and in getting to know that new friend we began to discuss a variety of things… business, politics, religion, college experiences, and goals. As we exchanged thoughts, beliefs and desires I began to get that little itch which often asks, “Am I doing everything I want to be doing?” The funny thing about my answer (which happened inside of my head as I both listened and spoke) was, “Yes and No”. Just as these thoughts occurred within, my new friend said to me, “How did you choose a career in sports marketing rather than sports journalism? For someone who loves sports and writing, it seems like a natural fit.” It was at that moment that I literally became speechless which was ironic given a few subjects before we both agreed we rarely find a moment when we find ourselves saying, “I don’t know” when it’s in regards to our own lives. However, for me, at that moment my only response to him was, “I don’t know.”
Truth is, my ego and pride told me that was the best answer, but on the inside I was screaming, “Because I’m afraid I can’t” and, “I don’t know how.” Literally, me, little miss, “All you have to do is believe in yourself” was admitting both fear and self-denial. On the flip side of that, there was another part of me that kept feeling like I wasn’t ready and also that perhaps, while I don’t feel ready, I can’t help but feel that if that’s really what I want to do be doing, then I’m on a far closer track than most people who decide to get a degree in teaching only to decide later it’s not the right path.
I wish I could tell you that this experience tonight brought me to some wild epiphany that results in me becoming the next MLB Network broadcaster (my heart just did flips, no joke at the thought of that), but I can tell you that it’s left me with several thoughts. One of those thoughts includes the fact that, if you’re reading this, whether you’re in high school, fresh out of college, a few years out, just starting your career, or deep into it, it’s never too late (and definitely never too early) to both dream and desire.
I know that where I am today is where I need and truthfully, at this very moment, want to be. However, I also know that there’s a drive deep inside of me that will likely never let-up, that will always want, crave and go after what I feel I’m meant to be doing and what I feel I will enjoy doing most. The beauty in all of this tonight is that I am grateful to be in a situation that allows me to be involved with something I love and know that there’s plenty of opportunity to continue on drawing out my own personal map of life.
Regardless of whether you’re like me, 100% committed to what you’re doing now, or like others, sort of content, but not quite convinced or completely unhappy with where you’re at, just know that it’s always okay to wonder, it’s always okay to want more and most of all it’s ALWAYS okay to want the best situation for you and when you know it feels right and when you know you’re ready… write your next place on your map.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Quarter Life Crisis
I always thought the term “Quarter-Life Crisis” was one that was simply meant for making creative invitations to 25th birthday parties or perhaps one used by young women feeling the need for witty attention. After all, what about being twenty-five could possibly be so earth shattering or mind maddening? Your mid twenties are a time of euphoric living. College for those who embarked on it in the timeframe society says we should, has come and gone, career paths are or should be on their way, it’s still appropriate to enjoy a night out with friends except now you’re able to fund a delicious microbrew rather than the cheap domestic on sale at the local mini mart and you’ve either met the love of your life or you’re enjoying the freedom of dating out in the shelter free real world. For many, and for myself included, your mid-twenties are the most independently fun-living times in your life when you really begin to understand that person deep within you’ve been attempting to define your whole life- so what about twenty-five could really be such a crisis? I really had no idea that was until I turned twenty-five.
As I stepped outside a Seattle neighborhood coffee shop, I closed my eyes and breathed in the distinct aromas coming from the shop I’d just left, the Indian restaurant next door and the Thai restaurant a little further down. As I enjoyed the marriage of the smells mixing together, thinking to myself how much I loved the diversity of Seattle, I allowed the perfect 80 degree July day envelope my body. I could hear a woman with an accent that due to my lack of cultural explorations, I’d hate to say which country it belonged to, but I was fairly certain it was bred somewhere in South America. The accent belonged to that of a young woman, no more than 30 years old, beautiful with her dark hair that had not seen a dollop of hair color, her rich brown eyes, her bright smile and a soul that stared right back at me in the brief moment when we caught eyes. In the five second interaction we had there was not a doubt in my mind that this woman had seen far more of the world than I had and as I walked away, sipping my iced latte in hand, I headed back to work with one main thought in mind, “I’m 25 and I have yet to see the world.”
I grew up loving sports and more specifically, baseball. I loved writing and I loved giving back. Growing up there was not a doubt in my mind that I would be the Katie Couric of baseball and through my success I would start my own non-profit foundation. Well, that dream took a back seat as high school went on and I took a bypass road from sports into the world of teaching. During that time I was given a rare opportunity to pursue a job with sports radio and more specifically with the Seattle baseball broadcast, a job I knew I had to have. It took no time for me to leave the days of classroom discipline and lesson plans in the dust as my dream of working in sports had never really left my heart. I’ll never forget the thoughts that ran through my head, “At 23 years old I’ve dabbled in two amazing jobs, both jobs that I cared about.” “At 23 years old I’m on the career path I’ve always dreamed of.” “At 23 years old, I’m living in the city I love, in the neighborhoods I love and with the people I love.” “At 23 years old, what more could I possibly ask for?”
I couldn’t ask for much more at 23, and even at 24, but as 24 came and went, so did the contentment of the job I was working in. The love of my city and my neighborhood was still strong, but it was also comfortable. It’s really no surprise that an entry level job could find a level of complacency in my mind, even if the job itself was surrounded by something I love, I found myself beginning to grow out of the everyday tasks it brought. I was longing, thirsting, and begging for creativity. I was desperate to make more money, which had yet to come after the economic downfall hit and my overall environment wasn’t showing much signs of change. For some people comfortable is a good thing and complacency is desired, but for me, at least at 25, they were two words I absolutely dreaded.
There was a part of me that felt this sudden spark of, “wander lust” and this desperate need for change although I couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a moment of need for selfish desires. After all, I had invested quite a bit of Facebook status updates to profound statements nearly bragging about how happy I was in life, how blessed I felt, how important the power of believing in yourself is, blah, blah, sing, dance, repeat. I kept attempting to go with the motivational talks on the not so motivating days; reminding myself how many people would kill for my job, for my house, for my life! But, still, something inside kept buzzing; something inside kept saying, “You need more. You want more. Go do more.”
I had come up with a number of elaborate ideas for my thoughts on doing more with my life regardless of all I had accomplished between 23 and 24. I’d spent the last year traveling domestically as much as I could, and many would look at my travels as a success given where I went and what I did (all on a very tight budget, mind you). Trips to Hawaii for Halloween, San Francisco to see a best friend, Vegas for New Years, Miami for the Super Bowl, Chicago for the Cubs, San Diego for some fun and anywhere else I could go in-between, I made it happen. I’d found ways to be involved in everything I’m passionate about. I pitched an idea to my work to start a fitness blog which allowed me to be focused on two passions- fitness and writing. I became involved with the community outreach board at my work. I volunteered in a fairly elaborate role with a local charity helping homeless children which allowed me to both help, network and plan events- all things I love. The fitness blog even landed me a potential side job doing personal training with a very new –to-the-market product. To top it all off, my dating life was as strong and fluid as it’s ever been. Usually when I dipped the dating fishing pole into the pond, I came out with duds, but suddenly my line was hot with good looking, successful, and genuinely kind guys- although, just lacking that ever so needed, “spark”. I’m sure as you’re reading this, you’re even saying to yourself, “Ashley, what else on Earth could you possibly want?! You have a great job, you’re involved in things you love, you have a dating life most chicks would kill for, you live in a great city and in a great home, what the hell is your problem!?” My response to you: good question.
I, myself was feeling an enormous amount of guilt and confusion with the thoughts and feelings I was having. Wondering if it was simply because I wasn’t making enough money to comfortably survive (after all, you can really only find a silver living on the pay check to pay check lifestyle for so long), or if it was something more. Was I just a selfish person who didn’t appreciate what I had? I’ve never thought of myself as an overall selfish person, but maybe I was? Or, maybe it was something more. Maybe it was because somewhere between 18 and 25, I began to realize how fascinating life really is out there, and how much of it I had yet to take part in.
At 18 years old, I remember thinking I knew exactly what I was doing with my life. I was convinced that I had myself figured out, was convinced my college choices were all the right ones, my dating choices couldn’t get much better than their mediocre style, and my life was just what it was and I was fine with it. I didn’t really realize I could literally do anything I absolutely set my mind, heart and soul into. Not until I reached my twenties (and yes, I realize that was only a minimum of 2 years later). In fact, it even took a bit of what I called an, “identity crisis” to discover that knowing who you are goes through a number of tests and trials before you really find it and once you do, you’re then faced with every imaginable obstacle out there that will test, test, and test again to see just how well you really figured yourself out. You see, that’s wherein it all begins to lie- as you enter adulthood and you begin to experience the world of independence- whether it’s financially, thoughtfully, emotionally, spiritually, whatever it may be, you begin to learn about all the little intricacies life has to offer.
As all of these thoughts soared through my mind on a daily basis, and on some days, hourly basis, I found myself realizing, my desire for more had nothing to do with being selfish or unappreciative and everything to do with discovering the capacity and potential within myself. You see, at 25, the world, as cliché as it sounds, really can be your oyster. I’ve learned at 25, it’s completely normal to seek change, especially if you go through your first round of major change only to discover all the opportunity that comes with it- it’s pretty hard not to desire more of that opportunity.
So, as I continued on with 25 and thought back to the woman at the coffee shop from time to time, I began having more open discussions with my other 25-something friends who all seemed to be humming the same melody as me, “I need change. I need challenge. I need more to my life.” Suddenly, simply having a job or a career path and a house to live in and a salary to feed ourselves wasn’t enough. Suddenly, we all began to realize our potential and began to discover that our potential was much like a bird with a wingspan larger than the cage we were all locked in; it needed to be set free.
Coming to this realization meant only one thing: time to take that potential to the next level. This is where the crisis becomes less about the crisis itself and more about how to turn the realization into a reality. Knowing this desire for change was all up to me, I set out to find it and was amazed to find just how much the world really can be on your side if you just believe in yourself and what you have to offer and furthermore, what it is you desire. I knew at this point my desire was to work in sports at the next level in my career path and the only places I envisioned that happening was Seattle, San Francisco or San Diego. Little did I know just how quickly that was all going to happen.
One thing you may not know in reading this is that I didn’t just sit down and start writing and get it all done in a day like I do many of my other writings. I began this piece back in July and I’ve slowly chipped away as thoughts arose over the last several months. It is now mid September and after several months of trying to decipher for myself what the quarter-life crisis is really all about and how to overcome it, I’ve finally found a solution for myself.
A few weeks ago, I made plans to visit my best friend in San Francisco. It was that simple- I was just going down to visit a person I adore. After booking my flight, I one day became a little bit curious about sports radio in San Francisco which took me to the internet, which took me to a website, which took me to a career page which right before my eyes was a job description for a job I knew I was qualified for. After a little bit of investigating, I landed myself a job interview, flew down to San Francisco, carried on with my normal plans and went in for an interview that I really didn’t have a major expectation set for. I spent over an hour in that interview and I walked out with a job offer.
Three weeks later, several phone calls later, and a stack of paperwork later, I am now planning to move to San Francisco in a few weeks to take a job in sports in a position that not only doubled my salary, but also takes me to the next level. While I’m sure there will be quite a bit of adjusting that will occur upon arrival, there’s one thing I know for certain: this is exactly the change I was looking for, I just hadn’t quite figured out how to find it.
I knew I needed change. I knew I needed to find something in my life that would validate my potential and cater to my strengths. I knew I needed to explore beyond the comforts of my niche. Granted, there was also a time when I was convinced that needed to happen through dropping everything and traveling the world (which I highly considered if it weren’t for a little thing called: money), but I knew it was time to take a little risk, to take on a little challenge and to do it in a setting that was new and exciting, and for me, that place is San Francisco.
If you’re like me, a 25-something adult who is walking through life gracefully only to hit the wall of, “Why in the world aren’t I satisfied anymore?” Know this, you are NOT alone. I have yet to meet someone around the ages of 25-35 who hasn’t at some point or isn’t going through the same exact thing. At this stage in life, with so much life ahead and a little bit of life behind you, it’s the most natural feeling in the world to have. However, if you do happen to be in a quarter-life crisis situation, then take my advice: Sit down and think about what it is you care about, where it is you want to be and what it is you want to be doing- no matter how crazy, outlandish or unimaginable it seems or feels and no matter how many people question it, figure it out and run with it. The minute you do, you might just find yourself with an incredible opportunity, in an upward moving career path in a city that is completely new to you and you might just love it.
Good luck.
As I stepped outside a Seattle neighborhood coffee shop, I closed my eyes and breathed in the distinct aromas coming from the shop I’d just left, the Indian restaurant next door and the Thai restaurant a little further down. As I enjoyed the marriage of the smells mixing together, thinking to myself how much I loved the diversity of Seattle, I allowed the perfect 80 degree July day envelope my body. I could hear a woman with an accent that due to my lack of cultural explorations, I’d hate to say which country it belonged to, but I was fairly certain it was bred somewhere in South America. The accent belonged to that of a young woman, no more than 30 years old, beautiful with her dark hair that had not seen a dollop of hair color, her rich brown eyes, her bright smile and a soul that stared right back at me in the brief moment when we caught eyes. In the five second interaction we had there was not a doubt in my mind that this woman had seen far more of the world than I had and as I walked away, sipping my iced latte in hand, I headed back to work with one main thought in mind, “I’m 25 and I have yet to see the world.”
I grew up loving sports and more specifically, baseball. I loved writing and I loved giving back. Growing up there was not a doubt in my mind that I would be the Katie Couric of baseball and through my success I would start my own non-profit foundation. Well, that dream took a back seat as high school went on and I took a bypass road from sports into the world of teaching. During that time I was given a rare opportunity to pursue a job with sports radio and more specifically with the Seattle baseball broadcast, a job I knew I had to have. It took no time for me to leave the days of classroom discipline and lesson plans in the dust as my dream of working in sports had never really left my heart. I’ll never forget the thoughts that ran through my head, “At 23 years old I’ve dabbled in two amazing jobs, both jobs that I cared about.” “At 23 years old I’m on the career path I’ve always dreamed of.” “At 23 years old, I’m living in the city I love, in the neighborhoods I love and with the people I love.” “At 23 years old, what more could I possibly ask for?”
I couldn’t ask for much more at 23, and even at 24, but as 24 came and went, so did the contentment of the job I was working in. The love of my city and my neighborhood was still strong, but it was also comfortable. It’s really no surprise that an entry level job could find a level of complacency in my mind, even if the job itself was surrounded by something I love, I found myself beginning to grow out of the everyday tasks it brought. I was longing, thirsting, and begging for creativity. I was desperate to make more money, which had yet to come after the economic downfall hit and my overall environment wasn’t showing much signs of change. For some people comfortable is a good thing and complacency is desired, but for me, at least at 25, they were two words I absolutely dreaded.
There was a part of me that felt this sudden spark of, “wander lust” and this desperate need for change although I couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a moment of need for selfish desires. After all, I had invested quite a bit of Facebook status updates to profound statements nearly bragging about how happy I was in life, how blessed I felt, how important the power of believing in yourself is, blah, blah, sing, dance, repeat. I kept attempting to go with the motivational talks on the not so motivating days; reminding myself how many people would kill for my job, for my house, for my life! But, still, something inside kept buzzing; something inside kept saying, “You need more. You want more. Go do more.”
I had come up with a number of elaborate ideas for my thoughts on doing more with my life regardless of all I had accomplished between 23 and 24. I’d spent the last year traveling domestically as much as I could, and many would look at my travels as a success given where I went and what I did (all on a very tight budget, mind you). Trips to Hawaii for Halloween, San Francisco to see a best friend, Vegas for New Years, Miami for the Super Bowl, Chicago for the Cubs, San Diego for some fun and anywhere else I could go in-between, I made it happen. I’d found ways to be involved in everything I’m passionate about. I pitched an idea to my work to start a fitness blog which allowed me to be focused on two passions- fitness and writing. I became involved with the community outreach board at my work. I volunteered in a fairly elaborate role with a local charity helping homeless children which allowed me to both help, network and plan events- all things I love. The fitness blog even landed me a potential side job doing personal training with a very new –to-the-market product. To top it all off, my dating life was as strong and fluid as it’s ever been. Usually when I dipped the dating fishing pole into the pond, I came out with duds, but suddenly my line was hot with good looking, successful, and genuinely kind guys- although, just lacking that ever so needed, “spark”. I’m sure as you’re reading this, you’re even saying to yourself, “Ashley, what else on Earth could you possibly want?! You have a great job, you’re involved in things you love, you have a dating life most chicks would kill for, you live in a great city and in a great home, what the hell is your problem!?” My response to you: good question.
I, myself was feeling an enormous amount of guilt and confusion with the thoughts and feelings I was having. Wondering if it was simply because I wasn’t making enough money to comfortably survive (after all, you can really only find a silver living on the pay check to pay check lifestyle for so long), or if it was something more. Was I just a selfish person who didn’t appreciate what I had? I’ve never thought of myself as an overall selfish person, but maybe I was? Or, maybe it was something more. Maybe it was because somewhere between 18 and 25, I began to realize how fascinating life really is out there, and how much of it I had yet to take part in.
At 18 years old, I remember thinking I knew exactly what I was doing with my life. I was convinced that I had myself figured out, was convinced my college choices were all the right ones, my dating choices couldn’t get much better than their mediocre style, and my life was just what it was and I was fine with it. I didn’t really realize I could literally do anything I absolutely set my mind, heart and soul into. Not until I reached my twenties (and yes, I realize that was only a minimum of 2 years later). In fact, it even took a bit of what I called an, “identity crisis” to discover that knowing who you are goes through a number of tests and trials before you really find it and once you do, you’re then faced with every imaginable obstacle out there that will test, test, and test again to see just how well you really figured yourself out. You see, that’s wherein it all begins to lie- as you enter adulthood and you begin to experience the world of independence- whether it’s financially, thoughtfully, emotionally, spiritually, whatever it may be, you begin to learn about all the little intricacies life has to offer.
As all of these thoughts soared through my mind on a daily basis, and on some days, hourly basis, I found myself realizing, my desire for more had nothing to do with being selfish or unappreciative and everything to do with discovering the capacity and potential within myself. You see, at 25, the world, as cliché as it sounds, really can be your oyster. I’ve learned at 25, it’s completely normal to seek change, especially if you go through your first round of major change only to discover all the opportunity that comes with it- it’s pretty hard not to desire more of that opportunity.
So, as I continued on with 25 and thought back to the woman at the coffee shop from time to time, I began having more open discussions with my other 25-something friends who all seemed to be humming the same melody as me, “I need change. I need challenge. I need more to my life.” Suddenly, simply having a job or a career path and a house to live in and a salary to feed ourselves wasn’t enough. Suddenly, we all began to realize our potential and began to discover that our potential was much like a bird with a wingspan larger than the cage we were all locked in; it needed to be set free.
Coming to this realization meant only one thing: time to take that potential to the next level. This is where the crisis becomes less about the crisis itself and more about how to turn the realization into a reality. Knowing this desire for change was all up to me, I set out to find it and was amazed to find just how much the world really can be on your side if you just believe in yourself and what you have to offer and furthermore, what it is you desire. I knew at this point my desire was to work in sports at the next level in my career path and the only places I envisioned that happening was Seattle, San Francisco or San Diego. Little did I know just how quickly that was all going to happen.
One thing you may not know in reading this is that I didn’t just sit down and start writing and get it all done in a day like I do many of my other writings. I began this piece back in July and I’ve slowly chipped away as thoughts arose over the last several months. It is now mid September and after several months of trying to decipher for myself what the quarter-life crisis is really all about and how to overcome it, I’ve finally found a solution for myself.
A few weeks ago, I made plans to visit my best friend in San Francisco. It was that simple- I was just going down to visit a person I adore. After booking my flight, I one day became a little bit curious about sports radio in San Francisco which took me to the internet, which took me to a website, which took me to a career page which right before my eyes was a job description for a job I knew I was qualified for. After a little bit of investigating, I landed myself a job interview, flew down to San Francisco, carried on with my normal plans and went in for an interview that I really didn’t have a major expectation set for. I spent over an hour in that interview and I walked out with a job offer.
Three weeks later, several phone calls later, and a stack of paperwork later, I am now planning to move to San Francisco in a few weeks to take a job in sports in a position that not only doubled my salary, but also takes me to the next level. While I’m sure there will be quite a bit of adjusting that will occur upon arrival, there’s one thing I know for certain: this is exactly the change I was looking for, I just hadn’t quite figured out how to find it.
I knew I needed change. I knew I needed to find something in my life that would validate my potential and cater to my strengths. I knew I needed to explore beyond the comforts of my niche. Granted, there was also a time when I was convinced that needed to happen through dropping everything and traveling the world (which I highly considered if it weren’t for a little thing called: money), but I knew it was time to take a little risk, to take on a little challenge and to do it in a setting that was new and exciting, and for me, that place is San Francisco.
If you’re like me, a 25-something adult who is walking through life gracefully only to hit the wall of, “Why in the world aren’t I satisfied anymore?” Know this, you are NOT alone. I have yet to meet someone around the ages of 25-35 who hasn’t at some point or isn’t going through the same exact thing. At this stage in life, with so much life ahead and a little bit of life behind you, it’s the most natural feeling in the world to have. However, if you do happen to be in a quarter-life crisis situation, then take my advice: Sit down and think about what it is you care about, where it is you want to be and what it is you want to be doing- no matter how crazy, outlandish or unimaginable it seems or feels and no matter how many people question it, figure it out and run with it. The minute you do, you might just find yourself with an incredible opportunity, in an upward moving career path in a city that is completely new to you and you might just love it.
Good luck.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
The Lunch Hour
The lunch hour is one of those moments in the day that many desk sitting Nine-to-Fivers take for granted. It's the time in the day that can often be passed by eating microwaveable meals at a desk, or used as nothing more than a quick moment to grab a $5 foot long up the street. But, it's always been my belief that the lunch hour is the most sacred part of the work day. It's the time you take to escape from the reality of whatever it is that's consuming you for eight hours. Whatever takes over your thoughts, your priorities, your dreams, your inspirations. It's the moment to let them all come back to fruit, the moment when you can take a step out of the stress and enjoy whatever it is that fulfills you- even if all that is, is simply Teriyaki in a styrafoam box.
Today, I decided to escape for my lunch hour to none other than my neighborhood. Having already nibbled on my lunch throughout the day at my desk, I decided I wanted nothing more than an ice tea and my latest paperback read. But, as I stood outside the once-local, now-global coffee joint many Seattlites know as the Evil Coffee Empire, I found myself not only enjoying the flow of voice and words from the author I was immersed in, I also found myself curiously and happily distracted by a copious amount of things happening around me. For some, this would be a bother, for me it was both refreshing and intriguing.
My first distraction came from that of a young woman, probably no more than 21, no less than 18 crudely saying while spitting a loogey on the ground, "Where's the fucking Starbucks?" (which happened to be right in front of her face). With her tummy quite obviously hanging out and her pants far too low, I tried so hard to let judgments that came to mind go as quickly as they entered, but I found myself wondering about her. Wondering what her childhood was like. Wondering what her family was like. Wondering what in her life caused her to feel like she had to act so, "tough". It was then that she immediately came out of "The Locally Global Evil Coffee Empire" and said to her friend, "I can't go in there, EVERYONE is looking at me." And at that moment a rush of guilt came over me as I knew I was one of them. She soon disappeared with her friend and I continued on with my reading, still wondering about her- that was of course until a woman sat down in the chair that once cushioned the seat of the girl who spat and I knew this because the first words from the new woman were, "There's spit all over this table!"
I assume the new woman cleaned whatever mess bothered her, because she ended up sitting down with her school of children that were all her daughters. I read away, focused on the dialogue in my book, coming in and out of listening to the woman's daughters beg for a chocolate chip cookie and then found myself distracted by the number of other little girls who passed by with their moms who happened to know these daughters of the woman sitting down. I made the assumption that they went to one of the local schools there in my neighborhood- trying to decide if it was the public school or the private and then being taken back to the good old days of school year summers when your biggest worry was wether or not you could have a chocolate chip cookie. As the table full of daughters and a mom continued on, I continued on reading, until once again I found myself distracted- this time by a homeless man.
This homeless man is a man anyone from my neighborhood would recognize. He spends his days walking up and down the streets, talking to whoever and whatever is around him, head phones in his ears, but always aware of his surroundings. To many he may seem abrasive, but I've never seen him hurt a fly and when he smiles it's big enough to light up a room. Although his deep, sultry voice and sentences that don't always make sense may deem him, "crazy" to many, there's a side of him I witnessed today that warmed my heart. A random pedestrian walked by and threw his cigarette into the garbage can- however, the cigarette was still lit. The homeless man stopped the pedestrian and said, "Sir, sir, your cigarette is still lit! Don't worry, you don't put your hand in there, it's dirty, I'll get it out for you." So, he did. He put his hand in the trash, took out the cigarette that was in fact still partially lit and stepped on it on the ground and threw it away- not asking for a dime. He then pulled out a half full coffee cup which I overheard the mom with the daughters say, "Oh, look, he got a free coffee". But, the homeless man wasn't pulling the coffee out to drink, he pulled it out to pour the contents out into the dirt nearby. I know to some this seems silly, but to your everyday garbage man, this is a random act of kindness. The homeless man went on his way, and as he walked on, then came the most adorable couple I've seen in a long time.
They weren't hard to miss, although they were short and little in stature, the way they looked hand in hand, side by side could take your breath away. A man and a woman no younger than 75, grey haired, with just the perfect amount of age lines- lines that spelled, "Happiness, joy, life and wisdom". They both smiled with pure contentment and I remember my entire heart filling up and thinking, "That's what I want to find one day." As they walked on, the husband pulled his wife in closer towards him and wrapped his arm around her waist and they continued on their merry way. I couldn't help but wonder if they noticed that every person who walked by them smiled as big as I did.
The last of my sightings all left me with just as many thoughts as the others. The woman running to catch her bus- I sat and wondered if she'd make it, and was happy to see she would thanks to a man asking the bus driver to wait for the woman who was a stranger to him. I loved knowing that the simple act of asking someone to wait may have just saved the bus woman from a hellish day. Then, there was the lady in the bagel shop window dressed to the nines as what many from the Northwest would call a, "stereotypical Southern Bell", she had a sun cap and dress on, hair curled with red lips to match her red lined dress and in her lap was a basket with none other than a kitten inside which of course made the table with the daughters squeal with cutness. It was at that moment I thought to myself, "Am I living in some kind of novel?"
At that point, I finally accepted that the distractions around me were preventing me from retaining anything I was reading in my book I loved so much. For many, distractions are annoyances, but for me they filled my hour lunch break with so much curiosity, so much thought, and even a fair bit of optimism that I could care less if it meant I had to go back and read the 20 pages I thought I had taken in, it was well worth every moment. With that said, I think I'll return back to that "Evil Coffee Empire" in my neighborhood again for a lunch break tomorrow.
Today, I decided to escape for my lunch hour to none other than my neighborhood. Having already nibbled on my lunch throughout the day at my desk, I decided I wanted nothing more than an ice tea and my latest paperback read. But, as I stood outside the once-local, now-global coffee joint many Seattlites know as the Evil Coffee Empire, I found myself not only enjoying the flow of voice and words from the author I was immersed in, I also found myself curiously and happily distracted by a copious amount of things happening around me. For some, this would be a bother, for me it was both refreshing and intriguing.
My first distraction came from that of a young woman, probably no more than 21, no less than 18 crudely saying while spitting a loogey on the ground, "Where's the fucking Starbucks?" (which happened to be right in front of her face). With her tummy quite obviously hanging out and her pants far too low, I tried so hard to let judgments that came to mind go as quickly as they entered, but I found myself wondering about her. Wondering what her childhood was like. Wondering what her family was like. Wondering what in her life caused her to feel like she had to act so, "tough". It was then that she immediately came out of "The Locally Global Evil Coffee Empire" and said to her friend, "I can't go in there, EVERYONE is looking at me." And at that moment a rush of guilt came over me as I knew I was one of them. She soon disappeared with her friend and I continued on with my reading, still wondering about her- that was of course until a woman sat down in the chair that once cushioned the seat of the girl who spat and I knew this because the first words from the new woman were, "There's spit all over this table!"
I assume the new woman cleaned whatever mess bothered her, because she ended up sitting down with her school of children that were all her daughters. I read away, focused on the dialogue in my book, coming in and out of listening to the woman's daughters beg for a chocolate chip cookie and then found myself distracted by the number of other little girls who passed by with their moms who happened to know these daughters of the woman sitting down. I made the assumption that they went to one of the local schools there in my neighborhood- trying to decide if it was the public school or the private and then being taken back to the good old days of school year summers when your biggest worry was wether or not you could have a chocolate chip cookie. As the table full of daughters and a mom continued on, I continued on reading, until once again I found myself distracted- this time by a homeless man.
This homeless man is a man anyone from my neighborhood would recognize. He spends his days walking up and down the streets, talking to whoever and whatever is around him, head phones in his ears, but always aware of his surroundings. To many he may seem abrasive, but I've never seen him hurt a fly and when he smiles it's big enough to light up a room. Although his deep, sultry voice and sentences that don't always make sense may deem him, "crazy" to many, there's a side of him I witnessed today that warmed my heart. A random pedestrian walked by and threw his cigarette into the garbage can- however, the cigarette was still lit. The homeless man stopped the pedestrian and said, "Sir, sir, your cigarette is still lit! Don't worry, you don't put your hand in there, it's dirty, I'll get it out for you." So, he did. He put his hand in the trash, took out the cigarette that was in fact still partially lit and stepped on it on the ground and threw it away- not asking for a dime. He then pulled out a half full coffee cup which I overheard the mom with the daughters say, "Oh, look, he got a free coffee". But, the homeless man wasn't pulling the coffee out to drink, he pulled it out to pour the contents out into the dirt nearby. I know to some this seems silly, but to your everyday garbage man, this is a random act of kindness. The homeless man went on his way, and as he walked on, then came the most adorable couple I've seen in a long time.
They weren't hard to miss, although they were short and little in stature, the way they looked hand in hand, side by side could take your breath away. A man and a woman no younger than 75, grey haired, with just the perfect amount of age lines- lines that spelled, "Happiness, joy, life and wisdom". They both smiled with pure contentment and I remember my entire heart filling up and thinking, "That's what I want to find one day." As they walked on, the husband pulled his wife in closer towards him and wrapped his arm around her waist and they continued on their merry way. I couldn't help but wonder if they noticed that every person who walked by them smiled as big as I did.
The last of my sightings all left me with just as many thoughts as the others. The woman running to catch her bus- I sat and wondered if she'd make it, and was happy to see she would thanks to a man asking the bus driver to wait for the woman who was a stranger to him. I loved knowing that the simple act of asking someone to wait may have just saved the bus woman from a hellish day. Then, there was the lady in the bagel shop window dressed to the nines as what many from the Northwest would call a, "stereotypical Southern Bell", she had a sun cap and dress on, hair curled with red lips to match her red lined dress and in her lap was a basket with none other than a kitten inside which of course made the table with the daughters squeal with cutness. It was at that moment I thought to myself, "Am I living in some kind of novel?"
At that point, I finally accepted that the distractions around me were preventing me from retaining anything I was reading in my book I loved so much. For many, distractions are annoyances, but for me they filled my hour lunch break with so much curiosity, so much thought, and even a fair bit of optimism that I could care less if it meant I had to go back and read the 20 pages I thought I had taken in, it was well worth every moment. With that said, I think I'll return back to that "Evil Coffee Empire" in my neighborhood again for a lunch break tomorrow.
Monday, July 5, 2010
I Used To
I used to be afraid to fly, now I enjoy the majesticness of being 30,000 feet above the ground, soaring through the clouds.
I used to be a little bit negative about some elements of life, but in the last few years I've found positivity really does create good results.
I used to be caught up in what's happened in the past and what will happen in the future, but instead have learned the most important time is the present.
I used to say I wasn't much of a reader, but recently I finished a 300 page book in less than a day.
I used to say I wasn't a runner, but each day I run a little more.
I used to say I'd never have a chance to work in sports, but 2 years ago I landed my current job in Mariners Radio.
I used to think the only guys I'd date weren't always the nicest guys, but these days the only guys I seem to be meeting are nice guys.
I used to think my writing was only something I enjoy, but I now enjoy sharing it with others.
I used to think I'd never have a good realtionship with certain people in my life, but those relationships are better than they've ever been.
I used to think I'd never get a chance to travel as much as I'd like, but I've spent the last year traveling more than I ever have with plans to do even more in the future.
I used to think religion had all the answers, but I've come to realize that most answers come from within.
I used to care what other people thought, but have found the only thoughts that matter are your own.
I used to say, think and be a lot of things that I don't and I'm not today and tomorrow I may say, think or be a lot of things I didn't and wasn't yesterday. However, one thing I know I will always say, is be kind. One thing I will always think is that positivity is the key to success and one thing I will always be is me.
I used to be a little bit negative about some elements of life, but in the last few years I've found positivity really does create good results.
I used to be caught up in what's happened in the past and what will happen in the future, but instead have learned the most important time is the present.
I used to say I wasn't much of a reader, but recently I finished a 300 page book in less than a day.
I used to say I wasn't a runner, but each day I run a little more.
I used to say I'd never have a chance to work in sports, but 2 years ago I landed my current job in Mariners Radio.
I used to think the only guys I'd date weren't always the nicest guys, but these days the only guys I seem to be meeting are nice guys.
I used to think my writing was only something I enjoy, but I now enjoy sharing it with others.
I used to think I'd never have a good realtionship with certain people in my life, but those relationships are better than they've ever been.
I used to think I'd never get a chance to travel as much as I'd like, but I've spent the last year traveling more than I ever have with plans to do even more in the future.
I used to think religion had all the answers, but I've come to realize that most answers come from within.
I used to care what other people thought, but have found the only thoughts that matter are your own.
I used to say, think and be a lot of things that I don't and I'm not today and tomorrow I may say, think or be a lot of things I didn't and wasn't yesterday. However, one thing I know I will always say, is be kind. One thing I will always think is that positivity is the key to success and one thing I will always be is me.
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