Gratitude

I'm reading a book for an HR book club at work. I love book clubs. I now belong to two, soon to be three. The perk of this particular club is that I got the book (hardcover!) for free. It's called "Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard" by Chip and Dan Heath. It's a business self-help sorta book. Not one I probably would've chosen to read on my own. Anyway, between snappy case studies and an analogy comparing the emotional and rational sides of a person to an elephant and its rider, there was a line that captured my attention. 

"Imagine a world in which you experience a rush of gratitude every single time you 

flipped a light switch and the room lit up."

For a second I imagined this literally. And, truthfully, it seems like a bit much. It made me think of the crazy blend of awe and wonder Amy Adams captured so well as Giselle in Enchanted. (I really don't know why I'm thinking in terms of Disney movies lately. Gosh, there have surely been doctoral dissertations on Disney indoctrination in American children's psyches. Back to the quote though...) It makes me wonder about the lack of gratitude in my daily life. I imagine feeling thankful would have a snowball effect of positive emotions.

I think I saw an example of this in grad school. There was a woman in my education cohort named Kim. I met her on the first day of math class when she sat down next to me and promptly introduced herself with a big smile. I thought she was about 30. I found out months later she was around 50. Wow, what a shocker. Her sheer joy was youthful in so many ways. Even later I found out she had had breast cancer. She was always smiling, always sort of in awe of how great everything is. I wonder if people can achieve that without facing a life-threatening condition...

While I can't imagine truly feeling grateful every time electricity works its wonders, I would love to find the peace that comes with gratitude. My Great-uncle Ralph is 90. He and I exchange emails. I love what the wrote one day: At my age, the talk of death is something  one faces every time you go to bed at night.  But then you wake up the next morning and Hey!!  Another beautiful day!!

It is another beautiful day.

Belle and Books

I had a great weekend. There's nothing like having a friend visit to make you explore the city you live in. Oh, and seeing the friend is good too.


The weekend was H.O.T. As my dad would say, "Hotter than a fox in a forest fire." Yup, that's accurate. That didn't keep us inside, nor poolside. On Saturday we walked to Eastern Market. We meandered among the vendors, nabbing samples of fruit and looking over the doodahs. I went a little crazy buying five zany headbands. Of course I was ridiculously indecisive about which to buy, but I think I got some good ones--nice and zany and girly.


At lunch we sat down at a table with a group of ladies from Tennessee. Love that accent. Moving down south-ish, I've met people from a bunch of new states, like Arkansas and South Dakota. People even say "Yes, ma'am" to me. Happened twice today. Huh.


We went to the Library of Congress. Amazing place. The inside reminds me of Europe. I love the quotes on the wall and the paintings. What really got me, though, was the view of the main reading room from above. I know my eyes widened. The place is a reader's dream, this reader's dream anyway. When I saw the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, one word popped into my head: home. 

The lowest set of arches is where the bookshelves are. They even had those rolley ladders. You know the type that Belle slides across in Beauty in the Beast. I never realized until the other day how much I've always wanted to do that.

Short-Sightedness

When I was around 13, a new Burger King popped up in my hometown on a splotch of land between the Wal-Mart and the shopping mall.

"It won't last 3 months," I told my parents, dismissively. How could it? There was already a McDonald's and a Wendy's not a minute drive down the road. 'We already have those. Why do we need another fast-food restaurant?' I thought. I couldn't understand it.

More than a decade later the BK is still there. (Though on principle, not from help with my business. I think I've only been there once, back in the days when I ate fast-food, and that was because someone else was driving.) It has actually outlasted me, in terms of occupying my hometown.

I'm not trying to provide commentary on the success of restaurant franchises. No, that's not the direction I want this post to go. This prophetic example sticks out in my mind for two reasons. One, sometimes when we drive by this Burger King my family laughs and reminds me of my silly prediction. Two, it's an example of the short-sightedness I'm trying to avoid in my life.

I started reading a book this afternoon ("Mad Like Tesla" by Tyler Hamilton) that reminded me of the dangers of closed-mindedness. Telsa is credited with inventing the radio and taking the first x-ray photographs. But he was more than a scientist who toiled away on a one or two great projects. He foresaw unprecedented things. For example in 1898, he made a remote-controlled boat and predicted a "race of robots" that will do the menial work of humans. People, many of them, dismissed Tesla and his ideas. They couldn't figure it out.

Ok, so maybe this example is on a grand scale. Tesla made predictions about technology and energy. His ideas were scoffed at by professors, the media and scientists like Thomas Edison. How can this relate to a goal by an average person (me) to limit my  short-sightedness?

I think Tesla dared to dream. Not only did he not let the ridicule of others bring him down, he didn't censor himself. He wasn't inhibited by a narrow-minded perception of himself or his ideas. Now, I didn't know the man but from what little I've read, I like to imagine that he let his mind wander and didn't reign it in when thoughts became too unconventional. 

This is what I aspire to do, the lack of self-auditing, that is. I want to let myself dream. I also don't want to be the person to shoot down the ideas of others, whether it be the latest crazy invention or a fast-food business venture. 

But more importantly, perhaps, I don't want to limit myself by dismissing something that I can't yet understand. Maybe my half-formed notions -- the ones scurrying around in the corners of my mind that I shoo away with a broom, like unwanted mice -- are really great ideas waiting to accepted, first by me and then by others.

Once again, I just don't know if I was able to convey the way I feel about this topic. I think either need to form ideas that are more concrete OR just become more confident about my work and stick with it. What do you think?

The Migrant in All of Us

I'm trying to find my yellow ball, my true self. Part of that quest, perhaps at the core of it, is to find out what I'm supposed to do with my life. Or is it better said, what I want to do with my life? I read somewhere that when the way we live is aligned with our passions everything has a way of working out. It flows because there is no resistance based on money or expectations or status or practicalities.


I paused to think about this idea while reading a biography of Dorothea Lange. Know of her? I didn't recognize her name either. I had seen her most famous photo, though. It's called Migrant Mother, captured at a camp in California during the Great Depression.

Dorothea was a girl from New Jersey. A girl with a passion. After high school, her mother persuaded her to study something more conventional than photography. She gave it a try, for her mother's sake. Then she dropped out. Her next move was to go on a trip around the world because, shoot, anyone knows that's better than doing something your heart isn't into. Dorothea and a friend pooled their money ($140 -- was that a lot of money in the early 1900s?) and headed west. They got as far as San Francisco before someone stole all their savings. They stayed in a hostel and found jobs the next day. On Dororthea's first day at photo counter in a department store, she met people who became her lifelong friends and introduced to the art scene that eventually gave way to her, not career, but life of photography.

What gets me about her story is that her life path happened because she was bold. She listened to her heart -- and the call of adventure. She took a risk. She didn't make it around the world, but taking that risk, leaving home, opened a new avenue for her. 

What am I trying to say? (Not rhetorical, I'm seriously asking myself that.) Well, I think it's that we need to be aware of our dreams and desires and not put up blockades because it can get so tiresome to wade against the flow of our lives.

You can't deny what you must do, no matter what it costs. -Dorothea Lange

What are your thoughts on this? Do you have an example from your own life?

My Long Lost Companion...a good book

I recently quit my second job. Way back in early October I was searching, frantically, for a job. I was pumping out resumes left and right. My persistence paid off, as it often does I suppose. Within the space of a week, I got not one, but two jobs. Trust me, yes do. I'm not gloating; it soon turned into a nightmare. I went from shedding the boredom-filled tears of the unemployed to busy, busy. I left my apartment at 8:30 in the morning often not to return until 9 p.m - exhausted, irritable, and unhappy. Apart from the long hours my second job took up way too much of my mental time. I couldn't stop thinking about it, obsessing really, living in fear over the weekend that I'd get a call from an irate, demanding boss. Sometimes I did. My heart would quicken with nerves as I saw the name pop up on my cellphone.

I was so despondent, so stressed. It was no way to live. After much - very much - trepidation, I quit.

After the nix of my evening job, I felt sure my quality of life would nearly instantly improve. I imagined I would spend my weeknights reading, peacefully -- the likes of which I hadn't done in, well, years. A month later, I haven't spent more than a few minutes reading during any evening. Why is that? Have I forgotten how to relax with a good book as my trusty companion? Some nights I go to yoga after work, and a couple times I've gone to a free movie screening. Other nights I have a suds-filled outing to the laundry-mat or chat on the phone for an hour. I'm coming to the slow realization, however, that  doing these things aren't something to be disappointed about because I think I'm not pursuing my true interest. It's just living. The trick is, I suppose, to find a balance between living by going through the motions and living in a way that pleases yourself.

Oh, what a riddle do I find this thing called life.