There are a lot of ways to consider our careers, relationships, our financial situations. Because I work in the innovation and trend field, we are obsessed with the trend curve to study products and changes in the marketplace. Recently, my boss opened my eyes to using it to evaluate other ideas and states of being. You can place your career on the trend curve, and if you’re post-peak, you better start thinking about how to re-invent yourself. The same can be said for your love life, for your finances, for where you make your home. And consider life in general – Am I jazzed about a new project I have going, be it professional, volunteer work, or a hobby? If all my projects are down-trending, it is time to start thinking about something new to get going.
Category: Life
Coffee remade
You’ve got hand it to Starbucks. Regardless of what anyone may think about the political corporate machine that made it okay to charge $2.50 for a cup of black coffee, they’re incredible innovators.
Super(wo)man lives!
I had dinner last night with a friend of mine who introduced me to something new you can do in a cab: a quick change. She said to me “I did a superman in a cab today.” I thought that meant she tripped and fell face first into the cab. Nope, it means changing your clothing while cabbing to your destination. I had never heard of such a thing.
You have to love NYC for these random acts of craziness. Would you ever, in any other city, consider undressing in front of a complete stranger in a moving vehicle? I personally think this is a fantastic idea to keep in your back pocket for the next time you need a good dare for someone.
My friend reasoned that it was dark and rainy, the driver was engrossed in his phone conversation (scary, I know), and she needed to get out of her suit and into something more comfortable quickly. You may be saying to yourself, “why didn’t she just go to a Starbucks restroom to change – they’re are plenty of those around.” Now what fun would that be? Just goes to show you that NYC adds some flair to even the most mundane activities.
You find it when you’re not looking…
a parking space in New York that is. I am amazed by how many times I can drive around for 20 minutes looking for a space, find one, literally one, that is 12 blocks from my apartment, and as I approach my building free spots multiply before my eyes. It’s really incredible, and unexplainable.
I’ve also found this statement to be true recently for bicycle riders. I know that they are being better environmentalists than I by riding a bike instead of an SUV. I get that. I’m jealous of then. I’d love to pitch my car. However, why do they think riding a bike exempts them from every traffic law we have? They go the wrong direction, cut you off, run red lights, disobey stop signs, and the list goes on. I just don’t get it…how do they justify that behavior and then get angry at motorists? I’m longing for the day when those police officers that lurk around my neighbordhood give a ticket to a bicyclist or a cab who thinks they’re above the traffic laws.
Cereal’s like the future
I feel alone and overwhelmed by the enormousness of this indefinite time frame known as “the future”. Even if I am perfectly happy, thinking about the future can turn me into a whirling dervish. This is why I do yoga, to calm my mind. This is why I stay as busy as possible, to keep myself in control. If I have a task at hand, then I can put my energy into that task. My mind is developing remarkable work-arounds to my distraction efforts. I’ll all of a sudden be walking down the street, finishing doing something or thinking about something, and next in the cue is always, always thinking about the future. “Hi self, Glad you took care of buying milk at the corner store. Now back to the matter at hand: the future.” “Good thing you worked out what you are going to say to Sleepy’s when you have to call them again to straighten out your bill. Time to think about the future, again.” And so it goes.
The funny thing about the future is that no matter how well you have it figured out, it just keeps coming. No such thing as a future tourniquet. If the future is coming, and it always is, then I’m worrying.
When I think about people from history that have exhibited calm, even in the face of great adversity, I think of the Dalai Lama, of Ghandi, and of Abraham Lincoln. It’s no wonder then that Mr. Lincoln would have said, “”The best thing about the future is that it comes only one day at a time.” So even if I am worried about 5 years down the line, next year, or next week, I only have to deal with it one small piece, a day, at a time.
The task of the future is too heavy, too much to bear today. Of course it is – I am one person, in one moment of time. I started to think about all the things I’ll do repetitively for the rest of my life and what it would be like to do them all in one moment. Let’s take how many bowls of cereal I’m going to eat between now and the day I die. I am hoping to live to be an ancient woman – my palm reader, Miss Susan, says this is highly likely. Let’s assume she is correct on that count. I also love cereal. I mean, really love cereal. If I could find a way to justify eating it for every meal, I would. So if I live 60 more years, that’s roughly 3000 weeks. If I eat about 4 bowls of cereal a week, that’s 12,000 bowls. Well, if ate all of those bowls RIGHT NOW, I’d probably die, or be very, very ill. Anything taken in such massive amounts is not good for us, and thinking about the future is no exception.
What Mr. Lincoln was saying is what we hear dietitians saying all of the time: the key is moderation. Take the future in tiny pieces, a bit at a time. Spoonful by delicious spoonful.
The above picture can be found at http://www.ars.usda.gov/is/np/fnrb/cereal1004.jpg
A place to call happy
Inspiration by image
The Move Toward Sameness
For the first time in this blog, I am writing from a location other than my home in New York. I am in Portland, Maine, with my good friend, Dan, who will be guest-blogging within the next week. After driving 8 hours from New York, we arrived here very late – around 1:30am. We got up this morning, had some breakfast and headed out to downtown Portland to do some sight-seeing.
While there were quaint little shops, and some one-of-a-kind hand-made items here and there, Maine really had not struck us any different than New Jersey. It is so similar in fact that when we pulled into the Sunoco Station to get gas this morning. I hesitated for a split second before recognizing that I needed to get out of the car and pump my own gas. (In New Jersey, it is illegal to pump your own gas – an attendant always does it for you.)
In my mind this begs the question, “why travel?” Granted both New Jersey and Maine are in the Northeast, though you would imagine that 8 hours apart cultures would vary to some extent. This lack of change gave me pause; maybe travel isn’t worth it unless we are traveling internationally, or into nature to place such as Yosemite or the Grand Canyon.
There are many good reasons to travel with a companion; though I would say that in the past I have been much more successful traveling alone than with company. However, that has much more to do with the fact that I am truly lousy at picking travel partners. Dan, is a great exception. He’s the perfect travel buddy – played DJ the entire trip, is a good conversationalist, is unfailingly optimistic, and tells me to knock it off in a very kind way when I lapse into my neuroses. As we were taking a rest back in the hotel before dinner, Dan reclined on his bed and said “the great thing about traveling is that it gives you permission to completely slack off.” I would never have realized this on my own. I am by nature a manic traveler – I must see everything, do everything, try everything, or else I feel I’ve wasted my money. In on sentence, Dan gave me some food for thought.
I don’t take time to slow down when I’m at home. If I did, I’d miss out. I write in my blog while I read a magazine, eat dinner, watch the news, and create yet another to-do list. It’s maddening, and it’s my fault that it’s maddening. There is much to be said for slowing down, serial tasking rather than multi-tasking, and then choosing to not task at all for a bit. Travel, regardless of where we go, lets us step away from our lives and our responsibilities and just be in the world. It’s a different lens through which to view living, even if that living looks similar to life at home.
Running Toward Sunshine
In this spirit, I went to see H.H. the Dalai Lama on Sunday with my friend, Rob. I have had a hard time writing this piece for this blog party because I am afraid that no words I am able to express will lend the kind of simplistic beauty that his message sends. However, after reading in the paper today about China’s threat to destroy relations with the U.S. if H.H. is given the Congressional Gold Medal tomorrow at the White House made me realize I must spread his message. We all must. As he says, “dialogue is the only way.”
His most incredible attribute is without doubt his unbridled humility. He sat center stage in lotus pose, with matching visor because the lights were so bright, and spoke to us for two hours. No notes, no teleprompter. It was as if we had been invited to his living room to ask our questions and tell him our fears. He made very clear that if we came to be fixed, to be enlightened, that we would be very disappointed. He could only tell us how he saw things. This was ironic because just as my friend, Rob, and I entered Radio City, I was thinking of the spiritual song whose verses end “oh lord, fix me.”
H.H. made clear that he does not think prayer fixes anything. There is no magic in it. It will not stir change. The only way forward is effort, failure. More effort, more failure. And again, and again. The only way forward, quite simply, is to keep going.
Fundamentally, he believes we may all be non-believers because for most of our lives, including his own, we do not practice our faith at every moment. It is in the background. We are human.
His talk was entitled Peace and Prosperity. He explained to us that this awful gap between rich and poor in the world must be closed. We will never all have peace if we don’t all have prosperity. It is almost as if the two must be achieved jointly. Not one before the other.
Despite his professing that he does not know the answers to most of our difficult situations in the world, people asked. They wanted to know how he felt about Burma. He replied, “This is very difficult. Very sad. The monks there wear robes similar in colors to mine. And I don’t know how to help them. I don’t know.”
He does believe fervently that war is outdated. That while we see so much tragedy and hardship, the world is getting better. He says there is no cause for hopelessness. There are only pockets of distress. By and large, the world is vastly improved from when he was a young man.
Exactly two hours after he began he put up his hands and said, “well that’s it. Until our next meeting, take care.” And with that simple statement, he stood up, bowed with his hands in prayer position, and bid us farewell. No fanfare, no excess. Just, “until we see each other again.” And I believe that moment will come. I really will see him again.
The thing I remember most about him is his rich deep laugh that enveloped all of us, took us into his comfort, and held us for a little while. A man who has suffered so much, who will undoubtedly never see his homeland again in this lifetime despite his constant effort to free his people, was by and large a happy, even joyful, man. And it made me think that regardless of my hardships in life, they are nothing compared to his. If he could laugh, and mean in, then so can I.
A few years ago I read H.H.’s book “Happiness at Work”. And at the end of the book the author was looking for some piece of pure wisdom. He asked the Dalai Lama how he could get up every day and work so tirelessly with seemingly little results. What would he do if he was not able to free his people in his lifetime? “Well, we will do the best we can.” And that was that. He would do his best. It’s all he could promise. And that small phrase gave me freedom. No matter what terrible loss or sadness or disappointment I may suffer, I had to know in my heart that the most I could was my best. If H.H. asked no more of himself, and he is enlightened, then how could I ask more of myself.
There was the sunshine I was looking for. I didn’t have to run toward it. It has been with me all along. It is with all of us, at every moment.
Knowing our strength
I couldn’t help myself. A brand new Target store opened close to work, and my boss asked me to poke around at retail stores on Thursday afternoon for a project we’re working on. It was pouring rain,but I didn’t get wet. On top of being an absolutely gorgeous store, the new Target has a covered parking garage. I could hardly believe it. $144 later I left Target, and felt good about it. And I NEVER feel good about spending money.
Because of the rain, it took 2 hours for me to get home. And by a remarkable stroke of luck, there was a parking space right as I exited the West Side Highway, three blocks from my apartment. I pulled in, and was thrilled that I would not have to hunt for a space on the flooded streets. I bought a few groceries while at Target, including some perishables, and I wanted to get them inside. I had forgotten that I bought 9 bags worth of groceries, and that my apartment is not only 3 blocks away, but three blocks away – uphill. I struggled uphill, stopping every half block to switch arms and give myself a little break. Thankfully it was only drizzling. It wasn’t until halfway home that I realized this was a very bad idea, and to turn back would be just as far as it would be to get home. So, I kept on toward home.
I am sure that I looked ridiculous. I got more than one strange look from the doormen that line Riverside Drive. Neighborhood folks regarded me suspiciously, even though I was wearing business casual clothing. I guess it was covered up by all the bags. At least they were Target bags so I looked like a stylish crazy person.
Once I got inside I let out a big side and fell on my couch laughing. I always think I am stronger than I am, and then through sheer stubbornness I push through to do what I should not have attempted in the first place. The first step to recovery is recognizing you have a problem. So I’m finally at step one.
When I do things like this, I tend to think that everyone in the world would never do anything so ridiculous. That’s one of the reasons I moved to New York City. No matter how nuts you think you are, there’s always someone just a little more nuts right around the corner.
Today on the subway, a woman entered the train with a giant planting pot. I could have taken a nap in it is was so large. When she entered the train, there were very few people so it wasn’t too hard for her to manuveur. By the time she needed to exit the train, it was packed. So she gave fair warning that she would be getting off the train, and everyone just started to laugh outloud. A strapping man helped her lift the pot above everyone’s heads and then off she went dragging the pot behind her. How she planned to get through the turnstile I wasn’t sure. But I was grateful for the laugh.


