see as i saw

In the midst of a rain/snow, trekking down the sidewalk, head down, this texture caught my eye.  I got a few strange looks as I pulled out my phone and photographed the corner of a doorway multiple times.  Small price to pay for an "ooh!" moment in an otherwise cold and dreary atmosphere.

For the past day and a half, I've been ruminating on a mantra that my Saturday morning yoga instructor introduced to us.  It's a Sanskrit word: swaha.  As soon as she began describing its meaning, I wondered how she had dug inside of my head.  After class, I did a little more digging on its origins.

I cut and pasted together an essential meaning that makes sense to me: uplifting oneself by surrendering the ego and releasing it into the fire.  'Swaha' is a mantra, which makes it akin to a mental action, a keyword to remind you to engage.

Too often, I take offense or get overwrought worrying about what other people say to me or think about me.  I get caught up in how inappropriately people act or treat myself and others.  But I can't control other people, I can only control how I react and think about them.

The first part of this equation is something I've thought about and focused on before.  In fact, it's likely contained in another one of these 322 posts.  To some measure, I've managed to rein in my reactionary tendencies, whether that means an external or internal reaction.

But just because I've averted the negative flow of emotion, it doesn't mean I've taken my ego out of it.  I'm still likely to let a single instance of someone else's action or opinions affect me - whether it's my view of them or myself.  So although I began teaching myself how to quell the reaction, the effects still linger.

I seem to be going through a period right now where it feels like I'm struggling to keep a lot of balls in the air.  So it's easy to get down on myself.  'Swaha' may be just a word, but it's a simpler way of reminding myself to remove my ego from an event and relinquish it, forget about it, let it cease to exist.  And with that, perhaps it won't be the end of my struggling, but at least I can hope that it'll help keep me mentally afloat.

It's still a little strange for me to be this open about the things swirling in my head.  I suppose there's a certain sense of invisibility about digital communication, allowing me to feel like I'm writing to no one.  And there's also a little bit of that removal of ego that I've learned to embrace this year.

I have a hobby.  It's called planning trips, and it involves the enthusiastic perusal of various guidebooks.  So I decided to partake in a little preliminary scouting trip to the book store this afternoon.  Honestly, all I was after was a descriptive breakdown of the areas in and around San Juan, Puerto Rico.  You know, touristy and developed versus quiet and untamed.

That mission was accomplished, but with an interesting twist of events.  As I sat enmeshed in my travel-centric bubble, an elderly gentleman with a walker approached the leather armchair next to me and claimed the spot.  Every once in a while I could hear him emit an effortful grunt as he repositioned or a small burp as he drank his coffee.  As soon as he said, "Excuse me, Miss?", I knew he was talking to me.

He wanted to know if I was taking a trip to Puerto Rico.  When I affirmed, he began to draw out a slow sequence of thoughts on places he thought I might enjoy.  As he tried to describe the forest to me, I mentioned that I had been to Costa Rica.  I think that's when he decided I was a kindred spirit.

I soon learned that he had also been to Costa Rica and that he really loved the vibrancy of Rio.  There was a touch of emotion in his voice and gaze when he commented on his connection to time spent in the Amazon.  I listened attentively until we both lapsed back into our books.

When it came time to leave, I made eye contact and smiled, intending to tell him to have a good evening.  But he had one more nugget for me.  He told me that if I ever found someone to travel with me, I should make a point to fly into Cuzco and make my way to Machu Picchu.  I assured him that this was already on my bucket list and we bade one another farewell.

In the same moment, I felt both sad and affirmed.  It struck me that his adventuring days were over, although not by choice.  I didn't want to think about the fact that this infatuation of mine can come to any end.  On the other hand, his passion was still so palpable as he spoke and overflowed with a need to share.

I'm already like that now; I imagine that maybe some day when I'm approaching 80 years old, I'll be just as eager to throw my two cents in the mix.  Although by then there may be no such thing as book stores as a locale for my conversation starter.  That's another sad thought that I won't dare tread on right now.

It can be frustrating and difficult when you catch yourself in a client-facing or independent situation  without answers.  Especially when you can remember knowing nearly every conceivable answer in your past position.

I always told trainees that they would pick it up quicker than they realized and shouldn't feel embarrassed to tell a client, "I don't know, I'll get back to you".  But admitting that you don't know has this way of planting a seed of doubt in your mind.  Will they think I'm unqualified?  Incompetent?  Just plain dumb?

Here's the thing that I have to remind myself, the people on the other end of the phone weren't born knowing everything either.  Some of them would like to think that they did, but most of them are completely open to a follow-up call or email.

Case in point, I was handling a rather technical call on my own today and quickly realized that while I understood his questions, I was oblivious to most of the correct answers.  I decided to own up and tell him that I would have to follow up, because I was only two months in and these details weren't things that came up in my daily routine.  Wouldn't you know it, he was in the same boat.  Trying to figure out the answers to things that are totally outside of his wheelhouse.

So, we had a good laugh about the blind leading the blind, came up with a list of follow-ups, and plans to sync up tomorrow.  And I didn't even have to spend the whole call feeling incompetent.

I'd like to take this first moment to appreciate the perfection of the weather on this autumn day.  If I could choose, half of the year would look and feel exactly like today.  The other half would be composed of the weather suitable for beach days and outdoor dining.

The second moment will be dedicated to the loss of something near and dear to me: the elevator in my building.  For the next three to four weeks (hopefully no more), it's under maintenance and unavailable.  Although my cardiovascular system will be pumped (pun intended) for the constant five flights up and down, my inner lazy person wants to camp out on the couch through mid-November.

So, if you ask me to hang out and I turn you down, there's a possibility that I just don't feel like navigating the stairs.  Either that or I'm hibernating.  Winter is setting in after all.

Now that I'll have some weekends to spend at my leisure in Chicago, I'm hoping some of the temperate weather sticks around.  I find that I'm at my most inspired when I'm out in the natural world, with no time constraints, and looking for nothing in particular.  Next step, info-gathering and test-driving dSLRs so that I can upgrade from phonetography to photography during these jaunts.

Sometimes it seems unfortunate that I'm not really into sushi; it's so aesthetically pleasing.  I want to like something that pretty, but I just haven't acquired a taste for it.  Thus, the order of teriyaki-smothered land animals on the far right of the frame.

So this happens more often than not these days, but I find myself laughing at how content I am with many aspects of being old and uneventful.  And it's amusing the things that satisfy or excite me.  It's a Friday night, I'm home by 10:00pm, and I feel like I had a robust social calendar because I hit up two different venues and drank two glasses of red wine (with a side of tater tots, because I'm classy).

I give myself another half hour, to finish this blog post and pack a bag for tomorrow's trip to Wisconsin, then I'm going to be out cold.  There's just something so inviting about my bed on a Friday night.

On top of that, I opened my mailbox on my way into the building and felt noticeably excited that my health insurance card had finally arrived.  I've noticed that these days my parents and their friends have a primary conversational focus of health, medications, aches and pains, and other such topics.  I'm starting to see how that trend begins.  Hopefully I'm still a ways off from being that old.

There has been more than one occasion in 2012 when I pondered removing myself from this American lifestyle.  The contrasts that I observed in my surroundings, and myself, when removed from the rat race seemed worthwhile.  But I never gave into the urge, because there was always another force at the work, an emotional tug of war.

Certain things about this American life had too strong of a grip on me.  It wasn't a smartphone, a car, or even this much loved MacBook Air.  It certainly wasn't reality TV.  Instead, it was the carefully accumulated core of people that help imbue my life with meaning.  Sure, I could meet new people anywhere I go.  At the end of the day though, it turns out that my core contains the people that I want to share my days with.

My simpler days already feel like a different lifetime ago.  Things have changed so drastically in six weeks.  That's not to say the current situation is bad, just requiring adjustment.  But tonight I felt so reassured in the decisions that I've made.

So, I'm not living 'la pura vida' in Costa Rica.  But I am able to spend nights with people who don't think I'm crazy for considering it.  Moreover, they understand why it was an valid consideration.  At the end of the day, living in an environment that requires balance checks to keep my sanity in check is actually a worthwhile trade for having the right people in my life   Now, assuming everyone wanted to pick up and relocate to a sleepy, Central American beach town...I wouldn't have to be convinced.

On the three occasions that I was outside in the Loop today, I became convinced that the Chicago business community either didn't check the weather forecast or they're in denial.  I suppose there was a third category, consisting of people like myself, who were simply unenthused by the sub-fifty degree weather.

What did I ever do when there wasn't technology to aid me on the fly?

On today's journey back to Chicago alone, I managed to confirm that the Bears were playing Monday Night Football (meaning Lake Shore Drive was a safe route to take) and circumvented a likely half hour traffic jam.  While other drivers were joining the virtual parking lot on the Dan Ryan, thanks to the general public's ineptitude for merging, I exited to I-94 local and swept right past.

Google Maps saves sanity.  I would think that owners of a shiny new iPhone are envious of my outdated Android OS and it's functional mapping capabilities.  Did you see that Google Maps now gives you underwater mapping for various reefs?  I digress.

On an average day, I walk down the street tracking buses, determining if the 156 is coming soon or if it's worth walking two more blocks to get on a 22.

When I'm waiting in line at Starbucks, I can check my Gold Card balance (awarded to people who give Starbucks too much money) and even re-up my funds before I reach the register.

Instead of lugging around a 500-page book every day for my commute, it's simply stored in my 4.77 ounce handset.  Honestly, this blog wouldn't be executed as planned without the constant companion of my phone's camera.  Sometimes I wonder if I should nix the idea of a dSLR, just because I'm now so accustomed to the convenience factor of wandering anywhere with merely a phone in my pocket.

It's amazing how wrapped up my life (and many others') is in this technology that I couldn't even conceived of ten years ago.  Amazing, yet a little frightening.  At least I always have those once or twice a year breaks, thanks to international travel without an international phone plan.

Here's a short story for you.  Once upon a time, I returned to the world of full-time employment.  Even before re-establishing this financial stability, I was tentatively planning a trip to Croatia in the autumn of 2013.  But that's beginning to feel too distant.

It doesn't help that I know several people who are going to cool places and doing fun things right now.  And maybe I was spurred on by my exploratory stint in NYC.

Ultimately, I've started thinking about a little spring fling.  Maybe a way to ring in my final year as a twenty-something (whoa, I'm almost old).  Although I'd be more than happy to have some company on whatever international jaunt that occurs, I'm at ease with flying solo again too.

For a solo adventure, there's a 100% chance that I'll end up in a Spanish-speaking country - likely Ecuador.  If someone joins me, I'm open to discussion.  Let's just go somewhere, eat, drink, be merry, and appreciate a cultural experience that varies from our every day.

Until then, I suppose a few domestic journeys to Michigan (and 24 hours in San Antonio) will have to suffice, though I know that they won't quite satisfy my wanderlust in the same way.

I decided to incentivize for myself this morning.  While I needed to exercise, I wanted to see The Dark Knight Rises.  Solution: 3.5 mile bike ride brought me to the theater, roughly 2.5 hours spent at the movie, rounded out with a 3.5 mile return trip.

And did you know that there is such a thing as $6 movie tickets in Chicago?  Just manage to get yourself to AMC River East for a pre-noon show.  It sort of makes you feel like you won the lottery.  Obviously it's not the most popular show time; I shared the theater with ten other moviegoers maximum.

This was my first solo movie theater experience, but it ended up being pretty small scale in comparison to leaving the country alone for a month.  Actually, it didn't feel much different than watching a movie alone on my own couch, except the screen was much bigger.  I wasn't even cognizant of the people around me.  If you've never done a typical joint or group activity on your own, I recommend trying it - even if it's just to realize that it's not as intimidating as you may build it up to be.

On an abstractly similar note, I took one of those psychological type assessments today (supposedly based on typology by Jung & Briggs Myers).  I can't help myself, I'm a sucker for assessments.  Imagine my lack of surprise when my four predominant psychological types were introverted, intuitive, thinking, judging.

It's a few days early yet, but I have Olympic fever.  In fact, it's quite possibly as severe as the Grand Slam fever that I get four times per tennis season.  The kind where you want to be glued to not only the TV screen, but also any available computer monitors, ensuring that you catch as many pivotal moments of athleticism as possible.

I vaguely remember the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona.  Without a doubt, I was obsessed during the 1996 Atlanta games though - mainly with gymnastics and the medal count by country.  Honestly, I was essentially keeping a spreadsheet on a giant whiteboard, which was updated daily.  During my free hours, I was also penning a rather well-crafted Olympics newsletter with the assistance of Microsoft Publisher.  I'm pretty sure there's still an issue of that floating around somewhere in my parents' basement.

In the sixteen years since then, my interest has spanned further into other sports.  Gymnastics still holds the softest spot, even if I don't follow as avidly as I once did.  No doubt that tennis, played on the hallowed grounds of Wimbledon, will have my attention.  I couldn't conceive of missing any Phelps/Lochte drama in the pool.  Throw in a dash of track, diving, beach volleyball...it's going to be a busy time.

Here's to hoping that the games can go off without a hitch, staying a celebration of athleticism and not a demonstration of politics.  I was in London when things got scary in 2005, luckily remaining unscathed, but that's not a scenario that I wish on anyone.

Just over a week ago, I decided to give my eardrums a break.  My comfortable earbuds crapped out a couple months ago, so I downgraded to the spare set that you always keep but would rather never have to use.  Besides the general discomfort, I actually started experiencing some inner ear pain and ringing on the left side.  That's when I realized just how much I was filling in hours of solitude with my iPod's company.

I imagine that I've been wearing headphones of some variety since the early nineties, and my parents have been admonishing me about going deaf over that same span.  And I only use a moderate volume on my personal music devices.

A little digging turns up a 60/60 rule - keeping your earbud time to 60 minutes a day at no higher than 60% max volume.  I guarantee I was breaking at least half of that rule nearly every day.  But, I'm rather averse to permanent hearing damage.  Supposedly the first thing to go is the middle ranges, those required to hear conversations in noisy restaurants.  There's nothing but noisy restaurants in Chicago and who wants to be that girl on a date?  "Huh? What?"

This is more of a "work" than "play" weekend in cottage land (although there's never a deficit of entertainment), including the successful execution of a bridal shower.  Officially starting off my participation in the 2012 wedding season.  

Sometimes you have to follow your whims.  I woke up to 100% humidity in my apartment this morning and couldn't fathom spending another consecutive day sitting in this 550 sq. ft. box, staring at the computer screen, searching for the holy grail (a.k.a. the perfect job).  I waited for commuters to leave the highway and headed for the land of Ikea.

Although going on this particular day was a whim, there was a purpose and a plan.  I have a tendency to dream up apartment projects and wish lists, but never execute on them.  Why?  Because it never seems particularly urgent when it's rare that anyone besides me sees the interior of my place.

Which brings me to a habit that I need to break.  If it will make me happy to purchase a wall-mounted wine rack, then I should make the effort to do it.  So, I did.  I added some curtains to the haul, too.  The 100 inches of mini-blinds could use a little more pizzaz.

Thanks to the budget-friendly options I can dig up at Ikea, I didn't exactly break the bank.  There was still a glimmer of guilt in my head though.  How could I validate spending money on non-essential items while I'm not making a full-time salary?  I did receive birthday money back in March that never went to a particular use.

This goes back to another non-indulgence habit of mine.  When someone writes me a check as a gift, I have a tendency to deposit it and most likely contribute it to my landlord or energy company.  Happy birthday to me, I paid the electric bill!  So, instead, I'm using a few of those dollars toward Mission: Home Sprucing.

And you know what?  I haven't even hung the curtains yet, but already my space is feeling refreshed and that's infused me with a little extra vigor as well.

In addition to re-committing myself to working out, I'm on a kick to continue refining my food and drink choices.  Some days, I'm successful without a struggle.  Often, though, I finish eating my healthy meal or snack and the urge for Oreos continues to lurk.  Sometimes it's cheese.  Or ice cream.  You get the point.

The other factor in this equation is being at home versus traveling or visiting someone else's home.  Somehow there's this invisible barrier of self-control that ends when I leave my own residence.  For some reason, I doubt that affliction is mine alone.  If only my mom and grandma would stop trying to feed me every ten minutes...or I was capable of practicing restraint when cookies are dangled in front of me.

(Disclaimer: This does not imply that I'm dieting, merely trying to form healthier habits.  I'm currently sans health insurance, so we'll call it preventative healthcare.)

My brother graduated from high school in 1999, marking the first member of our generation to have a graduation party.  I appointed myself as lead sign maker.  Standard letter-size paper indicated trash receptacles, can recycling (because we do that in Michigan, $0.10 each), the assortment of beverages in each cooler, etc.  Poster board demarcated the major turns to arrive at our house and clearly announced that the party was there.  These were not quickly scrawled in black permanent marker; I had an arsenal of colors and put block letters and doodles to good use.

At the time, my five-year-old cousin was in awe of how I came up with these creations.  She begged me to make her a sign on a spare poster board.  That sign, bearing her name and assorted girly doodles, hung on her bedroom door for probably the next ten years.  This year it was her turn to graduate, and tomorrow it's her party.  Several months ago, I promised that my gift to her would be something creative and homemade.  This is my final product.

My original concept didn't pan out, because I couldn't find the necessary materials.  Then I realized that I have absolutely no clue what eighteen-year-old girls are into these days.  So, I turned to the new one-stop shop for crafting, clothing, food, and any other miscellany you can imagine - Pinterest.  A search for "dorm" pulled up hundreds of results, girls building boards with their dream dorm decor.  One running theme seemed to involve letters, monograms and words as art.  Based on that and the knowledge of a bright color scheme, I made the rest up as I went along.

Now that this project is over, I'll have to find another creative outlet.  Maybe some day I'll even take the time to make art for myself instead of someone else.

My inbox gets hit at least once each day with what I call "food for thought" emails.  These are blogs I've subscribed to or email lists I've joined that run a gamut of topics from motivation, pursuing the unconventional work life, personal finance, and more.  Their essential function is to make me think, acting as catalysts for change and inspiration.

Some days these emails just reassure me that either I'm not completely insane...or there are at least other people out there as crazy as me.  Today's blog post from Escape the City referenced a short article by a guy named Daniel H. Pink.  Essentially, he wanted to point out the shift in what motivates work enjoyment and productivity in the 21st century, and urge employers to upgrade.  Here's how my email "read and response" sequence went:

Read: Autonomy - the desire to direct our own lives
Response: Yes
Read: Mastery - the urge to get continuously better at something that matters
Response: YES
Read: Purpose - the yearning to do what we do in the service of something larger than ourselves
Response: YES!!!

My final consensus: this is precisely the must-have list that guides my job search.  I'm going to have to pull out the needle in a haystack metaphor here.  Already pretty convinced that this combo is a rare find, this article confirms that others are seeking and not finding it.  Instead of letting this scarcity discourage me, I prefer to appreciate the fact that I'm not alone in seeking these elements as the building blocks of my work life.

My cousin graduated from high school this year and she obliged me to put my creative streak to work and make her a gift.  I hatched the idea months ago, at first believing that I had plenty of time to act on it.  About a month ago, I started seeking supplies without much luck.  Now her graduation party is two weeks away, my supply stash is still scant, and I've already scoured most of the places that I can think of to find what I need.  Now I'm finally admitting to myself that it may be time to come up with a Plan B.

As I thought about this situation more (a.k.a. overanalyzed), it dawned on me that it's a side effect of a recurring trait.  Single-minded focus.  When I make a decision on what I like or want to do, it's almost like I've set it in stone; my path is decided.  It's not quite the same as being closed-minded, I just forget that I'm allowed to exercise more than one idea at a time.  My frustration over figuring out my future makes more sense when I view it in this light.  Instead of keeping myself on a pretty straight and narrow path of choices (the usual), a whole spectrum is open.  And there is such a variable array of new options that pique my interest.  I keep thinking that I have to pick one and surge forth, committing myself to it.  Old habits die hard, but I'll continue chopping away at it.

One interesting side of effect of the zero income status is learning how to be more efficient with what you buy and more industrious with what you already have.  The efficiency lesson started in Costa Rica, although the lower cost of living simplified it.  My weekly grocery total was negligible.  In the city, you have to put in a more concerted effort.

The cost efficiency juggling doesn't really thrill, but I do find some enjoyment in being industrious with whatever I have on hand.  You know those times when you rout through the cupboards and refrigerator claiming that there's nothing to eat?  I've found that a little creative thinking, generally accompanied by some Googling, reveals that there are several ways to mix and match what you have.  Sometimes those experiments come out surprisingly well, other times I'm less than impressed.  In an effort to not be wasteful, I eat them anyways.

I've also been taking standard household goods that are either collecting dust in my storage unit or derive from the packaging of some food item and upcycling them.  I have a mail collector made from a picture frame, sans glass, and some fabric.  The pen holder on my desk is a glass salsa jar with the label removed.  Shoeboxes are an old standby, but now I'm planning to up the visual appeal and create some uniformity by covering them in a neutral fabric.

Do I want to return to the world of not fretting over every cent that I spend?  Sure.  But I also appreciate this unintended life lesson that I ran myself into.