see as i saw

This year's Christmas gifts to my parental units were experiential.  At the end of the day, spending time together engaged in a jointly agreeable activity seemed more meaningful than any material item that I could buy them.  And my hypothesis was proven correct; I'm not sure that my parents have ever thanked me so effusively for their gifts.

While mom and I had pre-Christmas day theater date at the Nutcracker, dad and I had a post-Christmas day theater date at Lincoln.  I suppose it was a theater kind of year, although it's safe to say they were vastly different environments.

Despite knowing the plot line and how Lincoln would end, thanks to all of the U.S. history classes of my youth, I found myself quite enmeshed in the story and the details.  Part of my time was spent mulling over whether Abe was an introvert, because that's been a theme piquing my interest during the past few months.  Then, of course, I wondered about the amount of historical accuracy.  Given that it was a Spielberg film, I hoped it was fictionalized only as much as necessary to fill in holes (and obviously there's always a bit of dramatic flair).

After sifting through a few articles where Lincoln/Civil War-era historians weigh in, it seems as though the script stuck pretty close to reality along the way.  And the details that were fabricated or amped up were not of a variety that it made the story misleading.  On top of that, I do believe that Mr. Spielberg made a film that Americans may watch without bemoaning how boring history is.

I'm simultaneously saddened, frightened, and appalled today.  For the life of me, I can't fathom how people's minds bring them so far to the brink that they take the lives of innocent people.  Innocent children.  I feel fortunate that, for me, Sandy Hook Elementary School is a news story and not a personal one.  Despite the fact that I can't imagine their pain, there are so many people that my heart aches for - and I'm sure that I'm not alone.  Both now and across the unforeseeable future.

When you look at the things that people do and how easy it is to get caught in their path, you almost feel as though you should be scared to leave home.  Movie theaters.  Hair salons.  Malls.  Schools.  Everyday places, places you wouldn't necessarily think to leave your guard up.  Train platforms.  Busy city streets.  Highways.  Places you use to get from point A to point B in everyday life.  Innocent people have been shot in all of these places in the past six months alone.

I don't want to go through life thinking that nowhere is safe, but it's difficult to keep suspicion from edging its way in.  There's no way to foretell and avoid senseless violence.  Standard vigilance and common sense will keep you out of harm's way in most cases, but there's truly no way to expect the unexpected.  So I'll keep living my life, perhaps wary but not fearful.  If I fear every decision, I'm not really living anymore.

It's crushing for those who lost family and friends today to be in the midst of the holiday season, a time that's meant to revolve around the people you love.  I'm sure their absence will leave an aching hole.  Ultimately it's a good reminder to the rest of us.  We don't know what next week, tomorrow, or even ten minutes from now will bring.  So appreciate the people in your life while you're here to do it.  Make sure they know you love them.  And stop putting off the enjoyment of life for things less worthwhile.

These thoughts and feelings aren't particularly unique; you've probably seen them pasted far and wide across social media and the internet in general.  But I felt the need to put them out in the universe.

For one shining moment or, if we want to get literal, one mile, I believed in the presence of autumn.  Real autumn.  The air smelled like dry leaves, the breeze was warm, and I was walking around in jeans and t-shirt.  I suppose it was a little stronger than a breeze, more like blowing gusts that foretold of what was to come.

By early evening, the rain started and the temperature started to dip ever so slightly.  Enough to make jackets necessary again.  In what I'd officially call the nighttime hours, I could see my breath clouding in the air as I waited for a bus.  What currently falls as rain is expected to transform into a chance of snow in the overnight hours.

Thus, we've reached winter.  Things can change so quickly.  It doesn't take a long passage of time for something to shift or transform.  It can happen in less than the full rotation of a clock's hands, or even as the popular saying goes - in the blink of an eye.  Just a thought that was running through my head, reminding me yet again to appreciate the moment and be thankful, even when it seems easier to focus otherwise.

Yes, that is the phrase often used to teach children about crossing the street.  We'd do well to heed as adults, but in a slightly different manner.  Life has a tendency to get busier as we transition into and through adulthood.  Maybe we start thinking one task or step ahead of where we are and what we're doing.  Or perhaps we just lose track of another lesson common to childhood, minding our 'Ps and Qs'.

I've tried to start being more cognizant of this in recent months and attempt to alter my own behaviors in areas where I'm an offender.  I make an effort to greet my bus driver and exit the front door with a "thank you".  And when everyone clambers to make it on to a crowded bus, cutting people off, I first have to remember to keep my composure over their rudeness.  Then I wait for my turn.  If I don't make it, there's bound to be another bus in less than ten minutes or two other routes a couple blocks away.

Today I went to an independently-owned lunch spot, where I remembered the owner to be a great man.  So when I stepped to the counter to make my order, instead of just barking out a menu item, I smiled and said hello.  When he asked me how I was doing, I responded and mirrored the question.  He smiled in return, said he was well, and told me in a thick middle eastern accent, "Nice always to see you".  I think we both made one another's day.

Or the other day, when the cashier at a store asked to see my credit card and ID.  I held them out for him while he finished folding the shirt I was buying.  And for that simple act, he thanked me.  He said that usually people just tossed them on the counter as if he were either contagious or they were annoyed.  We had another thirty seconds of lighthearted conversation before he smiled and wished me a wonderful day.

It's so simple.  Thank your cashier.  Treat your server like a human instead of peon.  Hold a door for a perfect stranger, even if you have to wait three seconds for them to reach the door.  I'm still not perfect at remembering all of my common courtesies, but I'm trying to make it more habitual.  I find it promising that I often mentally kick myself a few minutes too late when I do forget.

 Chicago is going to be upset with me, I'm having a small love affair with New York.  Tonight I meandered into Chelsea with a mission to check out the High Line, a public park constructed atop an old, elevated freight line.

The concept sounded unique, so I thought maybe I'd walk a few blocks, sit for awhile, take a few pictures.  As soon as I alighted from the steps, the ambiance was distinctly different from street level.  I had no doubt that I would be in love, because it possessed my favorite subject: juxtaposition.

It was a green space, a congregation of people moving at a relaxed pace or merely lounging, defined by quiet conversations and solo venturers.  Yet, it's generally no more than five yards from rail to rail, and the city is thrumming along as usual just below.  Manhattan still towers over you to the east and the lights of New Jersey illuminate the west.  Somehow, even surrounded by all of that steel, glass and light, the atmosphere feels idyllic.

And they've somehow managed to provide unique assets to different expanses of the walkway.  There's an area of lawn, various unique lookout points with rows of seating, benches placed within extremely shallow running water.  A stretch of loungers is featured just outside of a pseudo food court, which is housed in a section of building with the walls blown out.  Sometimes your view is dominated by brick walls, then it opens to a street view, and suddenly you're on a narrow path surrounded by plant life.

The variety and contrasts never got old.  Before I knew it, I was at the southernmost point of the park.  Heading back, I was entranced enough to miss my exit point and end up at the far north end.  About 3.5 miles later, I finally arrived back at my hotel.

I know that NYC overflows with restaurants and bars, many of which are well-suited to impress a date.  My perfect man would stake out a spot on the High Line, grab a bottle of pinot noir and a few tasty things to nosh on.  If you happen to know that guy, let me know.

Today seemed to have a theme: friends and pools.  And that combination proved to be precisely what was needed to quell an anxious mind.

Lunchtime by the pool with a newer friend proved to be a valuable mixture of grilled food (a personal favorite), time in the sun, and eye-opening stories about life travails and triumphs.  My curiosity about someone else's life was a great way to divert attention from my own for a few hours.

Then dinnertime rolled into the after hours with a tried and true group of girls.  Nighttime by the pool, with the addition of the city skyline and a bottle of vino drank from red Solo cups, made for another set of mentally recuperative hours.

Even when there are things in life that get you down, it's good to know that there are people surrounding you that can help you feel lifted up.  And that's what 2012 has been about for me, recognizing the true value in life and ensuring that I prioritize and appreciate it.

In my spare, I have become a bit of a blog hunter.  Some of them offer me tutorials for things like recipes and crafty stuff, others help me direct and consider life decisions, many simply show me that there are other people battling with the same concerns and vying for the same hopes as I am.

A lot of these blogs are one time visits for me, a handful hold my attention across multiple posts, but a select few grab my attention to the point that I start reading the archives like a novel.

Today I found myself wading through archives and I know I'll go back for more.  One of the posts that caught me was about an activity that she called "worry cards".  The short back story: she was have a meltdown and decided to wrap her arms around all of the stressors in her head.

Each worry was written on a card, then they were sorted into overarching categories.  Each category was further pared down into things that couldn't be controlled, those that could, and things that were already done and over but still causing anxiety.

First, she addressed each worry that was out of her control, writing on the back of the cards what she wished the desired outcome of each to be.  Since they're out of her control, there is no action to take, only acknowledgment.  Next, she looked at the done and over pile, relegating them to the proper status of no longer relevant with a single sentence on the back of each card.  Accept and move on.

Finally, there are those worries that can be attacked.  How do they become less daunting?  Simply by focusing on the first step that can be taken toward resolution.  Write it on the back.  Then put them in an order of attack, a ready-made task list to being worry free.

Although I can't say that I'm in meltdown mode right now, my over-analytical mind is constantly stewing on multiple things.  It's such a logical way to bring clarity and structure to a mind running astray.  The applications for an exercise like this can be useful across personal or professional instances.

If you want to check out the originator of this concept and her post, it's on the Make Under My Life blog.