Words and Things

I am currently reading three books. This is not uncommon.

The first is the current Book Club book, which happens to be "Sweet Valley Confidential." Say what you will; those of us who grew up on Francine Pascal's fairytale stories of blonde twins in Southern California were chomping at the bit for this latest incarnation which sees both girls in their late twenties, Jessica already married and divorced, Elizabeth living in New York City and working as an off-Broadway reviewer. The writing is absolutely, undeniably horrible. Jessica prefaces every sentence with "Like," and Pascal seems to have schooled herself in the Harlequin School of Literature when it comes to cliches and descriptions. The story is predictable, the characters laughable. But it's perfect summer reading because it plays on nostalgia and, well, it's completely brainless. The kind of thing you can easily process after a three-martini happy hour.

The second is Junot Diaz's "The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao." And it is utterly fantastic; hands-down one of the best books I've read all year. This book has been following me around for years- literally. I was gifted a paperback copy, and it sat on my nightstand from 2008-2010. I finally donated it in a fit of ridding my life of things that made me feel like a failure: unread literature being chief among them. Almost immediately afterwards, Joel gifted me a second-hand hard copy of the book, and I decided that the Universe really wanted me to read it. It had come highly recommended, but for some reason it was just one of those books (like my copy of "A Moveable Feast" - another potential life failure on my part, unless I get cracking soon) that sat around and never got opened. Eschewed for a new Jane Green or the Book Club book I was supposed to begin three weeks ago.

The third is my lunch break book, "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. It's a delightful piece of nonfiction that I nibble away at in thirty-minute increments, when I don't have errands to run or have to work through lunch, that is. I embarked on my own Happiness Project a year or so ago, and now find clean delight in principles I'd come up with on my own that I see reflected in Rubin's research. Reading this book now is a reminder to return to the constant practice of those principals, for which I'm grateful. If I had tried to read this book in the past, I fear it would have struck me as preachy or, worse, unrealistic. But having carved my own path to some steady flow of happiness in my life has opened my mind to other peoples' journeys as well. Sure, I might have thought, Rubin has the resources to go about studying her own happiness: she's not a twenty-something bartender laid off from her freelance job due to the media outlet's pending bankruptcy. She probably even has luxuries like "health insurance" and a retirement plan. What audacious wealth! Those years are, blissfully, part of my past now. It's a little easier to contemplate happiness when you're involved in a job that brings you fulfillment, and living a lifestyle that blends much better with your personality.

I go back and forth on the subject of writing my own book. Part of me wholly believes that I lack the life skills and determination to come out with a solid body of work at this point, and part of me sees this as procrastination. The things I learned in my twenties could certainly fill a book, and a funny one at that, but humor requires a certain amount of distance from life experience. I am just now coming around to the idea that decisions I made at 22, 23, 24 are downright comical in how uninformed and dramatic they seem now. But to parse through all of that and come up with a solid plot line requires a little more tying together of loose ends; something that I'm still dealing with.

I will say, I am no fiction writer. Real life is too rich, too amazing, too eerily coincidental for me to make things up. Certainly, I see a definitive value in dressing up the truth as fiction (because, let's face it, I'm also a consummate over-exaggerator-slash-storyteller), and I have a feeling that at some point whatever work I come up with will be a curious blend of the two, if that's possible. I fiddle around with word choices, with story ideas, but nothing yet has compelled me to sit down and churn out a solid book.

I've been told multiple times to just compile all the emails I write for trivia and turn them into a book, but I fear that my audience would be...two hundred individuals living in or around Baltimore City. Which is nothing to sneeze at, but in terms of royalties...not ideal.

Take Initiative

#6 on the Happiness Project: Take Initiative at work.

How does this translate?

MERCURY RETROGRADE has me in a state of unease. I am disorganized, feeling sleepy and slightly panicked, and seriously self-doubting. Why do these things always go altogether like some jambling, horrible, off-key sonata? I constantly feel as though I am a step behind, or too far ahead, or somehow lacking crucial details. This is typical Mercury Retrograde, but also typical of what happens whenever I neglect to allot enough time for what I've come to term "White Space."

White Space is clean, clear, and under control. White Space is "I don't have to be anywhere at this moment but where I am." White Space is "STFU, turn the phone off, and no, I am not answering that email RIGHTTHISSECOND." White Space is an active passiveness, a stepping away.

I find excellent White Space in monotonous activities. Cooking, showering, on the treadmill at the gym. When my body is occupied and my mind is mine, all mine. But you can find White Space in a variety of environments and tasks.

Not driving. White Space requires a sense of relaxation, of not-constant vigilence. Maybe a long drive. Sunset in autumn, wide road, destination far off, no traffic, music blaring. That could be White Space.

White Space is undemanding, and requires nothing of you but the untangling of thought processes and the general resetting of one's state of being. Interruptions, false starts, or impatient stimuli disturb this.

So...how does this translate to taking initiative at work and happiness? Well, I define "work" as not simply what you do during business hours or how you make money, but any sort of project that you engage in that requires brain or brawn power. It could be errands, chores, To Do's, any of those things. Taking initiative and actively grabbing responsibility causes wheels to turn and things to get done.

All in the hope of creating more White Space for oneself.

White Space requires a silencing of all other demands, and most of the time the only way these demands in our lives can be silenced is if they are addressed. To pursue White Space means to clear up the clutter of your life, to tie up the loose ends and dot "i's" and cross "t's" and confirm, confirm, confirm. That way, nothing can creep in to White Space. Taking initiative to clear your own plate of responsibility not only makes you feel able and proactive, it also gives you a sense of completion and productivity that will come in handy when you're ready to wipe the slate clean and decompress.

It's sort of like lying on the couch. Lying on the couch, reading chick lit. How relaxing! But wait....did you remember to take out the trash? If it doesn't go out right now, you'll forget. And if you forget, the bins will be overflowing next week and you'll receive one of those ridiculously passive aggressive "friendly reminders" from your Neighborhood Association representative who--of course--has been keeping tabs on the state of your garbage disposal. And taking out the trash requires- crap- that you purchase new trash bags. Which means you have to put gas in your car.

Lying on the couch reading a chick lit book has suddenly become a Thursday evening nightmare of chores and To Do lists.

Taking initiative means keeping all of the little tick tocks of your life up-to-date, in working order, and at least halfway full with a note (physically written and placed strategically) to buy more. To avoid interruption of White Space. To cultivate a sense of completion and relaxation. Which leads to.....happiness. Oh the joy of chores done, clean house, phone calls made, wine glass full, new book to be read, and no where to be or anyone to answer to. Bliss!

I liken it to vacation. When I go on vacation, I want the house spotless, laundry done, bills paid, chores completed so that when I come back, I am walking into a clear space. Whilst on vacation, I'm not lying there obsessing over whether or not I remembered to buy cat litter. It's been done. I took care of it. Breathe sigh of relief. Nothing infiltrates White Space.

Take initiative. On the job, start to notice little loose ends that require tightening. Confirm, confirm, confirm.

(I cannot stress this point enough: CONFIRM!)

I wish you healthy productivity and rejuvenating White Space. Get cracking.

Don't Forget To Breathe

we're all lifers here
no eleventh hour reprieve
so don't forget to breathe
keep your head above water
but don't forget to breathe
just breathe
- alexi murdoch

Dinner with Nickle tonight. Plates of tapas, a pitcher of sangria, a change of locale, a bottle of wine, a beautiful evening. The sky laced with purple to hint, ever so gently, that summer is winding down and, slowly but surely, on its way out.

I think I got pretty caught up in the moment a few too many times there.

I have been making conscious efforts to slow down. It's impossible at work- which is OK- but it's a discipline I am attempting to forge in the rest of my life. Slow down, relax. There's no hurry.

And there's no way to remind you to slow down than lovely conversation with a dear friend over rockfish fritters, confit of organic chicken wings, and cinco leches almond cake for dessert. Oh, Centro, how I do love you.

Friends bring your feet back down to the earth. They remind you of how you are rooted, where you are planted, the choices you have made and the choices you will make. In a good way. They stand as landmark measurements from whence you came and where you are headed and any good friend will say things that are helpful, critical in a proactive way, and ultimately healing.

I can feel my mind start to slow down as the first licks of the end of summer make themselves known. I went for a run this morning, early morning; through the Inner Harbor and down past the new expensive condos to Key Highway, and then threaded the back streets of Federal Hill. The Harbor is quiet in the morning, salty and earthy and slightly oily. It's late enough in the summer that there are already leaves drooping ever so slightly on the struggling young trees planted alongside Rash Field. There is one tree in particular that sports gold and red; like some too-early-to-the-party fashionista wearing Ugg boots in August. We mock that tree. Who does she think she is? But, ultimately, if she wears it long enough, it will come back around. She'll be one step ahead of the rest.

There was the slightest edge to the rising sun this morning. Not a chill, but...a memory of what a chill might feel like, and a little hint that perhaps it will be sooner than I think before mornings will bring chill again.

Just as the weather is shifting in ways that seem minute but are marked nonetheless, so too am I unclenching my fists and letting go. I got a little caught up there, I got a little too focused and a little too intent. For a moment there, I thought I had a little too much control. I release that now. I let go of the things I cannot change and accept responsibility for what I can.

Which brings me to #4 on the Happiness Project List.

Have meaningful goals.

My goals shift and change like the seasons, and each one carries the slightest whiff of nostalgia for the one before it and the one to come next. They segue into one another, bleed and merge and collide, but ultimately they are all the same. Be the best person I can be. Find meaning in life. Find peace. Cultivate understanding and knowledge. Encourage a healthy curiosity. Know your limits. Plan for the future. Don't scrap the present in the process. Don't dwell overly on the past. Face forward, young one, and listen carefully.

You know. Just....live a good life. Isn't that what it all comes down to? Do the best you can? Forgive the shortfalls and praise the accomplishments?

That's not to say that all goals are meaningful. My goal to, in some way, exacerbate Lee in every way possible is certainly not meaningful (but fun.) My aim to watch all of the recorded episodes of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report on my DVR are ambitious and fun, but not, in the long run, particularly meaningful. (NOT that these shows are not meaningful; just that there lacks a certain brevity in forcing myself to watch EVERY EPISODE of anything.)

But it is to say that the big ones, the ones that stick around and guide all of the smaller goals, are meaningful. I changed up a lot of what was/is meaningful to me in the past year, and it has forever altered the way I look at the world. For the better. Having meaningful goals has provided me with a map, a path, a way of being that I lacked previously.

But, you know, don't forget to breathe. There is so much peace and solace to be found in those moments where you are not attempting to cram something meaningful in. Where you find that you haven't checked your watch in two hours, and you have no idea how many times your sangria has been refilled, and you don't care that you have laundry to do or mail to open or that email to answer. You've spent the last howevermanyminutes/hours/whatever deep in conversation and time has slipped by and you forgot to savor the moment, and that's ok. You're savoring it by being in it, by participating.

It's like running in the morning. I forget, sometimes, that I'm running. I'm looking at the sun coming up over Harbor East and the masts of the boats bobbing gently, and the work boats heading out towards the Key Bridge. I remember that, a few months ago, I was running this path towards a finish line with people cheering and summer was young and I was focused only on that finish line. And now...I'm focused on that weird fish-type thing that just lept up out of the water, and the trucks delivering food to the Rusty Scupper, and the other runners out here early like me, pounding pavement and lost in iPods.

Have meaningful goals. And don't forget to breathe.

The Best Thing

The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.
- Abraham Lincoln

#3- What You're Worth

OK, enough politics for now.

My day was all spilled coffee, error messages and wrong turns. I got lost trying to find something in an unfamiliar neighborhood and wound up having to make three U-turns to correct it. This doesn't sound mathematically (geometrically?) possible, but it's true. Baltimore, like any city, is full of one way streets and no left turns. I'm used to this.

Last year I interviewed for an internship position with a very large non-profit. They ended up canceling the internship program for various reasons, but the woman with whom I spoke kindly offered to answer any questions I had about non-profits when I told her I was looking for a career change. She said, "There is one main thing you should keep in mind when pursuing a career in non-profits: work very hard for many hours for very little money."

Which brings me to #3 on the Happiness Project: Put money low on the list.

If I had a nickel.

No, seriously.

The thing is, more stress in this world comes from money and the having or not having of it then pretty much anything else I'd imagine. Mo' money? Mo' problems.

It's true, and I've witnessed it first-hand. I always think that I would be a happier person, a more complete person if [insert goal here.] I were ten pounds thinner. I were ten IQ points smarter. I had a few thousand dollars lying around.

And, over the years, all of these things have fluctuated. Aside from the IQ points. No, actually, maybe those too. I think I'm quite smarter during the times when I limit the vodka intake. I have been thinner, fatter, richer, poorer, smarter, dumber, and any given mark on the spectrum of these. And- let me tell you, while it certainly can be less stressful to be in the black on these terms, it doesn't guarantee happiness.

I have figured out that I am a person who values experience over material things. I didn't find this out through some deep, spiritual process. I took a long hard look at my finances and discovered where the bulk of my money goes (outside of bills):
1. Food.
2. Bar tabs/general alcohol purchases.
3. Travel.

I don't spend excessive amounts of money on things. This is not to say that I do not like things. I have more books than anyone I know. (Except maybe Jackal.) I love shoes and bags and big earrings.

(I recently purchased my first Coach bag. For the record- it was a very practical black wristlet. Purchased at nearly 50% off from an outlet. Does this count?)

The point is, I apparently spend 90% of my expendable income on experiences. Dinners out. Nights out. Traveling to new locations.

Wealth, to me, is measured in experiences. In moments with friends and family, in countries I've visited, and in what I choose to do with my time. I choose to work in a profession that espouses the values I embrace, and I have the luxury of having an education and a background that has built the framework for this life.

Also, and this is never, ever to be underestimated: I measure my wealth in health. I have been laid up with mono, with Lyme Disease, with broken bones and, I can tell you, I am eternally grateful that all of those things were curable and temporary. For those who are healthy, I think it's an easy thing to take for granted. Do not. You have essentially a million dollars in the bank if you have your health and, if you don't believe me, ask anyone with a permanent or terminal illness to show you their medical costs and the cost of time taken away from their work, their life, their loved ones.

Money is money. It comes and goes. It's problematic and stressful, it's not talked about in polite society, and there will never be enough. Yes, it can grease the wheels in certain circumstances but without the wealth of love, of health, of an appreciation for life it means next to nothing.

So, despite my day of frustrations and my pitiful bank account and the fact that I am desperately lusting after a plane ticket to either Greece or San Francisco (can't decide which one I want more...) I consider myself wealthy. I was born a middle-class white girl with a loving family vested in my success and at-least-average smarts. I consider this instant wealth.

Do I wish I had a couple thousand dollars lying around? You better believe it. But you know what I'd spend it on? I'd fly to San Francisco and take Snickers and Snap out to a lavish sushi dinner with bottomless wine glasses. And then buy a bunch of books at City Lights. And then go kayaking at Pebble Beach.

OH- and then a wine tour.

OH- and I'd buy a pair of killer winter boots.

To wear when I buy my plane ticket to Chicago.

OH- Chicago...I want to go there too.

I digress.

Measure your wealth in ways other than monetary, Glitteratis. Yes, money is important. But so are all of these other things.

And may I suggest www.LivingSocial.com to assist you with the purchasing of experiences at a discount. I recently got a $35 bar tab for $15, and an entire day of kayaking for $18. Win.

It's Not Fair

I think we've just about wrapped up Savoring The Present/Everyday Moments on the Happiness Project list. Which means it's time to move on to item number two:

2. Avoid Comparisons

If there is anything in this world that will make you feel worse about yourself, it's comparison. There's a bifurcation to this point:

a.) You feel inferior. Which sucks.
b.) You feel superior. But this superiority comes with a price.

If you look around, or even if you just sit still and watch the world pass by, you can find plenty of both. I think it was in graduate school that the Rules of Life first began to actually sink in, and one of the first I learned was this: of every room you will ever walk into in your life, there will always be someone smarter than you, someone prettier, someone kinder, or someone who in some way seems vastly superior to you. It may not be overt. It may be far more subtle, but the fact remains that however smart/pretty/kind/amazing you think you are, you will always be able to find someone who's got you bushed in some department.

It's a pretty hard lesson to learn, but an excellent perspective to have in your arsenal.

God help you if you are an ugly girl, Ani DiFranco wrote; 'Course too pretty is also your doom / Because everyone harbors a secret hatred / For the prettiest girl in the room.

You can't win.

Comparisons lead you nowhere. Sure, that girl might have a tighter stomach, bigger boobs, better boots, and a boyfriend who is hopelessly devoted. So what? You think her life is any bit easier than yours? You think she doesn't fight the same battles, face the same daunting things that are out there to make life difficult?

It's one of our worst habits, this comparison. This idea of equality and justice has somehow bred in us the idea that we're all deserving of some overly large slice of some pie. (And yet we supposedly take pride in individualism and uniqueness. The paradoxes of this society are baffling.)

A more slippery slope is the idea that you are somehow superior to someone. Unless they have proved themselves to be nasty, bitter, angry or cruel, chances are you've got nothing on them. So what if you're thinner, or you volunteer more, or you know the value of keeping a secret? You can't possibly know all the intricacies of someone's heart, and you cannot ever get ahead in this world by thinking you're better than others. Because the moment you do- I promise you- you will fall from that little self-built pedestal. Thinking you're better then someone is ten times worse than thinking you're less. It's a dangerous position of self-inflicted power, and this overblown sense of ego is the source of (I would wager) close to 90% of the problems in the world.

But comparisons don't always have to come in this fashion. Sometimes comparisons are more subtle. For years, I watched as things happened for my friend. Jobs, raises, relationships, new houses, accolades....I watched and I felt myself becoming angry that these things didn't happen for me. I couldn't understand why everyone around me seemed to be just GETTING and GETTING and GETTING and why my life was so stuck and why I myself was floundering so very badly.

The thing was, I spent so much time comparing myself to these people that I neglected to see the hard work they put into these milestones and moments of happiness. I thought they were things that just happened, not things that were worked for.

And the second I realized that was the moment I regretted all those wasted years of wondering why happiness seemed to come so easily to other people and not to me. I could have spent that time, you know, being happy. Working towards my own goals instead of waiting for someone else's happiness to light up my life.

"Life's not fair," my parents used to chorus. It's not.

But this whole comparison thing can really start to get you down when you look at it from the perspective of a middle class white girl with above-average education, good health, and straight teeth. Go ahead....start comparing. Go down that road. Point out all the things that are wrong with you, and then turn around and look at the other 90% of the world's population that are struggling with addictions, bad health, limited choices, no access to good education, no family model to follow, no friends, no hope, maybe not even clean water or readily-accessible food and shelter. Go ahead and bemoan the fact that some people don't ever seem to have to work for their wealth or their health, and then turn around and realize how good you've got it. Makes you feel...for lack of a better term....schmucky.

Avoid comparisons. You have no way of knowing the complex issues of someone else's life, and you are only responsible for your own. Taking charge of your own behavior and understanding that whatever may come as a consequence is yours and yours alone to deal with doesn't leave too much time for comparison.

I will admit, it's something of a human condition though, isn't it? Sometimes it's impossible not to compare. All around us are people who are more disciplined, who seem to make better choices; people to whom happiness just seems to gravitate.

But comparisons breed room for resentment.

And comparisons also drain us of gratitude for what we do possess. Whether it's a unique character trait or a flaw that, twisted in the right way, becomes an asset; or a gift or a goal achieved or hard work that eventually pays off or a random stroke of luck that lands some golden little slice of life right into our laps. If you're so busy wondering why your neighbor has such a magical life, you're not really taking part in your own life, are you?

Life isn't fair. But before you think you've got the short end of the stick, look again.

Although....I do have to say here that people with naturally high metabolisms should just all congregate amongst themselves. I mean, honestly. Or at least refrain from mentioning it in public. Can I get some support on this one?

I digress.

Don't compare yourself to others. Because it's bad.