ghost posts

I have a couple of drafts of posts saved. I think they're pretty interesting, but I don't think I'll publish them. It seems like everything I have to say lately is either too personal or won't come out right and makes me sound weird. Or both (or would it be all three...). Maybe I just don't have the right amount of time and attention to craft the types of posts I'd want to put up. I wrote some things down in a journal the other day, by hand. That felt really good, actually. Some things are only meant for paper, and only meant for me. And, perhaps, for people who ask me about them. So for anybody who is really curious, maybe we can do that talking thing people sometimes do. And if you aren't, or just don't have time, that's ok too. I can relate. To the logistical bit, I mean.

grouchy grouch grouch grouch

I think it's been about five weeks now that I've been leaning toward the grouchy instead of toward the serene, and it is cramping my style. I am kind of irritable and I take things too personally. I am also annoyed because I feel like this is feeding on itself and getting worse rather than better, and I am losing ground that I have been fighting for for the past two years.

It's a little bit maddening, because I can't figure out if it's my fault and, whether it is or isn't, what I can do about it. It kind of started when the return from vacation threw me off my groove, but the new job threw me off the groove too, at pretty much the same time, so who knows. Both messed with my schedule and my coffee saga is at still a lower point now, since I use it to help me get through when I'm tired or grouchy but I don't think I can afford to be.

When pregnant the first time, I learned that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am not always in control of my moods. However, earlier this year I started doing some things, many of them physical, that I thought really helped me be a better person. I think if I can get back on track with that schedule/strategy, it might make a big difference. But I'm kind of too grouchy to try very hard.

I wonder if partly I'm worrying about my mental state, and the things that cause me to prickle, too much. There's that quote I still can't remember exactly, but is really key, I think: "If things contrary to your most cherished desires come to pass, it is of no consequence." And then (this is pretty close), "I want you to be happy - to laugh, smile and rejoice - in order that others may be made happy by you." 'Abdu'l-Baha said that, and he certainly makes it sound like a choice!

Is it my circumstances that are making me tired, stressed, [mildly] caffeine-addicted? Am I not applying enough self discipline to be happy and behave in other healthy ways? Should I just rise above this and stop paying attention to the tides of my moods so much?

The more we search for ourselves, the less likely we are to find ourselves; and the more we search for God, and to serve our fellow-men, the more profoundly will we become acquainted with ourselves, and the more inwardly assured. This is one of the great spiritual laws of life.

I think I'm striving to serve others, but maybe I'm not doing that right either. Or maybe I'm not searching for God enough. I kind of don't know right now.

dialing back

I feel like dialing back a little. I've been pushing hard in life. I was pushing hard even before I started pushing harder, when I got my new job, the committee appointment, and whatever else. Suddenly, though, tonight, I feel like trying a little less intensely, and like that is ok. I'm not sure if it's true. Maybe the cooler weather has something to do with this. I'll have to keep on the alert as I look for spaces in my quietly action-packed life to relax a little, in case letting things slide a little turns out to be a bad idea. What I really need to do is let loose a little bit without actually accomplishing any less. Has anybody ever figured out how to do that? If so, feel free to let me know.

p.s. Happy birthday to my sweet baby who is one year old today! She has been such a gift in my life, and I am so, so grateful.

curry

What I have been wondering lately is this: How did I get to be 30 without finding out about yellow coconut curry? It is amazing, delicious, wonderful food! Wow. I can't believe I've only known about it for a matter of months.

I was discussing this with a friend at work, actually. He said that he had a similar revelation in his life, and it was a definite turning point: any point in his life can be defined as either before or after the discovery of yellow coconut milk curry.

And he suggested I also try green curry.

So maybe I'll try that when I'm ready to have my mind blown again.

Some Days are Just That Way

I've unfortunately been a little grouchy for, oh, maybe a week and a half now. I'm also at a not-so-good place with the coffee schedule, and my eating and sleeping choices have not been the best. Coincidence? Unlikely.

It's a little too bad, because I'd been doing pretty well and feeling surprisingly evenly content, even happy, and patient with everybody. Well, almost everybody.

Anyway, on Saturday, I woke up late. That is, I slept in until nearly 7:15. (wrist slap.) As a consequence of this, or something else, I missed my morning prayers which, in combination with everything else, I think, made me what I like to call "extra-grouchy". For me. Some people claim they can't tell when I'm grouchy, but I can tell, and it's not that nice.

On Saturday I was grouchy at least partly because I didn't have anything useful to do. I figured I had to get myself coffee and entertain my children, and these seemed like particularly self-serving and material goals. This irritated me.

I went to the mall, had some coffee and a snack with the little ones, went to story hour at the book store, got some books and a puzzle with a gift card we had.

I went after the coffee in case it would help, though I suspected it wouldn't. I was right: it didn't help much. I even considered getting flowers, but I didn't think they would help either. What I really needed was to do something useful, more than just cleaning the apartment (which I work on a lot every weekend), though that is pretty critical at times.

After all of this and some thinking, I decided to go ahead and start the Baha'i children's class I'd planning on starting "soon" for my son and some neighbors. I went home and found those prayers I'd missed in the morning, made invites, cleaned the porch up, talked to some neighbors. Even just deciding to do that made me feel better. Working for the spiritual education for my children and the children in my community felt much more "right" than idly passing my time doing arbitrary things to keep myself and my children from getting too bored. Ivan was the only child one who could make it in the end, but there's a good chance there will be more in attendance next week, or the week after that.

Now I just need to start eating better again, get my sleep schedule back on track, and keep trying to do useful stuff and cut back on coffee yet another time, and maybe I'll stop being a grouch again soon, too. Hopefully.

equilibrium: disturbed

On Thursday morning I got some unsettling news at work, about work. I think its elements (from my perspective) are 1. sad 2. good and 3. to-be-determined. It definitely means things will be changing with my job, which I wanted, but not like this.

I'm sure it will be for the best once it is worked out. I'm trying to keep in mind that there are a number of good options of where to go from here and that I can be happy and useful to the company in a whole array of outcomes. I'm also trying to keep in mind some wisdom from other sources:

"You should never be too depressed about your dissatisfaction concerning not finding a job you like, a place in the world that fits you. If you analyse it this general sense of mis-fit is one of the curses of your generation, one of the products of the world’s disequilibrium and chaos. It is not confined to your life, it is pretty general."
- Shoghi Effendi

"That's why we call it 'work'. We don't get up and go to 'fun' each day!"
- my former boss

"This is an opportunity to make a really great situation for you." (paraphrased)
- my current boss

On Thursday and Friday it took quite a bit of energy to deal with, but I think I'm back under control, for now, anyway. Don't worry, I'm under no illusions that life intends to let me take things easy for any real length of time.

It just goes to show: We never know what will happen when we wake up in the morning.

Change is coming. The only question is the degree.

free of fear

I recently accepted an appointment to serve on a committee for my Baha'i community. When I first got the call asking if I would be interested, I knew immediately that I wanted to do it. While I didn't feel ready exactly, I was promised training, and one of the things that shows up in the Baha'i writings is the power of doing service to make individuals become who they need to be to do what needs to be done. I also thought of quotes like: "Lose not thy chance, for it shall come to thee no more."

I was really worried about my schedule, though. With everything going on, I was pretty overwhelmed by the idea of adding anything else, and this appointment would be no trivial matter. So I said I wanted to think about it and watched my schedule very carefully for a few days. That exercise itself was actually pretty enlightening and cleansing for me, and ever since then I've had drastically less desire to do some of the trivial things that had been eating up more of my time than they needed to. Based on those few days of observing, I felt like I could make space within what I was doing to do what was needed for the committee.

Then it came time to schedule actual meetings, and the overwhelmed feeling came back. I didn't feel like I could add enough to my schedule meeting-wise and still be fair to my family and my ensembles. But, as I said to one person after a conversation attempting to set up a meeting time, I was afraid to stop playing with an ensemble. I suppose I was afraid it would make me less of a musician, less happy, and I'm not even sure what else I may have been afraid of. The unknown, perhaps.

I thought about that all the way home. It seemed strange to me, distant, unclear. What was I afraid of? What if I stopped playing with ensembles? So what? I like it, but I like playing by myself, too, and I can play tuba during my lunch break and work on material for that CD I always say I'm making some day. Which day, though? Why not this day? Maybe it is time for that, too.

"Love is a light which can never dwell in a heart possessed by fear."

Within the hour my thoughts turned from if I should stop playing with my quintet to how to bring it up. They were actually quite gracious when I talked to them, and found a perfect sub for me the next day. It's like it was meant to happen. I'm on a six month leave, and I'll reassess toward the end of 2010 what seems like a good idea going forward.

In the mean time, I feel happy to be free of the fear and evening rehearsals. I'm also looking forward to playing for myself, and even more, am trying to do my part to be made ready for this new venue of service that has opened up for me.


Current favorite quote:

"The closer one gets to realizing his destiny, the more that destiny becomes his true reason for being."

from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

What am I doing again?

Last night I went to band rehearsal. I love band. We played music from The Empire Strikes Back and Marriage of Figaro. We played other fun things, too, the director is a great person, and I like being around tuba players and playing with so many people. Among the numerous enjoyable moments was when a trumpet player pulled a duck call out of his bag saying, "I always carry it with me."

It almost made me want to stop playing with my quintet so I can play with the band every week.

But then I remembered: I can't quit quintet; quintet is my favorite. Isn't it? I love quintet. It's practically the perfect balance of individualism, good company, and, of course, tuba parts well worth playing.

Or maybe giving recitals is my favorite. At least, given a venue, I couldn't seem to keep myself from scheduling recitals, once I got started. I love doing them. Especially when people come and enjoy them. It's not hard to remember, though it's starting to have been a while now.

On a somewhat related topic, I seem to find other people's jobs very interesting these days. Not everybody's. But I do keep noticing jobs I don't have that might be satisfying to do and wondering why I got myself where I am and if there is some way toward something that makes me feel more alive, work-wise.

I hope I can find inspiration at work soon.

Even if it's by playing the tuba in the basement during my lunch break (I did that yesterday, too).

dark path

If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it will...

Yoda to Luke, SW Episode V

I think it is fairly clear that, as it relates to my life, this prophecy is definitely about coffee.

Yes.

I started drinking coffee when I was in high school and had grown tired of drinking soda and even lemonade at work. Once I developed a taste for it with lots of cream and sugar (liking it black came later), I adopted it in its traditional role as a tool for students. I was young and my body handled the abuse pretty well, as far as I can remember. Once I even stayed awake for 46 hours straight (though at that time I also employed instant iced tea: yikes)! Gradually, over the past dozen years or so, it has become both a tool and a pleasure, and, since college (or so), a stumbling block.

I think about coffee daily, many times daily, over and over. Why? I think I like it. I think I need it. I think it will help me. On the other hand, I think I don't like it. I think I need to stay away from it. I think it will make things worse. Daily I decide, exhaustively, over and over, if I will have it or not. I make rules about how much to have, how often. Then I decide over and over again how to follow them, to what extent.

See, for me, there is no "I'll just have one cup of coffee per morning". That doesn't work for me. If I'm going to drink it and feel ok, I need a little more than yesterday. Each day, a little more, or it doesn't reach the point of being enjoyable and feeling normal. I quickly start to get to where I feel bad if I don't have any, in all kinds of ways, and as the threshold of "enough" coffee creeps higher, drinking that much makes me feel unwell too. Furthermore, I lose the ability to tell if I'm tired or just behind on my caffeine intake. I feel confused and grouchy and, often, in physical pain.

Then, withdrawal. Ouch ouch ouch.

So yes, coffee is a powerful force in my world. I am easily drawn in to the shadows and illusions that it generates. Happiness? Yes. Feeling of being not tired? Thanks, coffee.

I think it's safe to say that I spend a lot more energy on this drink than any drink really deserves.

I know there are people who stumble to the coffee in the morning, drink their cup(s), and are then ready for the day. They are at peace, and even happy, with their habit. Maybe that will be me some day, but now, it is not. I have trouble even isolating what the variables are, especially now that I figured out that drinking coffee makes me groggy the next day. Seriously! How does that help?

Another problem is that coffee doesn't always seem to help me like it generally used to. Or at least, sometimes it doesn't make me happy. Instead it makes me edgy, and then really grouchy when it wears off. But only sometimes.

Why does it have to be so confusing?

This had gotten so bothersome in the past week or so, that I seriously considered calling it quits. No complicated rules about "I can have a moderate amount once every third day" or whatever. Just no coffee. Would it help? Or is coffee really good for me, as I used to think (sometimes) and as some studies seem to show?

But now that I like it again, maybe I won't entirely quite after all. Maybe I'll work my way back to one of my complicated schedules.

Sometimes I just don't know what to do with myself.

Noise.

Lately, I feel like I can't get away from noise. It's everywhere; it seems like everything in my life is so loud, at work, at home, in between. Even things I like, that I would never want to get rid of, are kind of loud. And there is always some kind of sound around. Usually, there are many.

Today, during a break at work, I took a short rest in the marketing storage room, one of the quietest places in my life. I could still hear the noises of the building and the city, though they were muted, and also a loud ringing that seemed to be in my ears that I'd never noticed before. Is it always there? Is it always there when it's less loud than usual? I don't even know.

In the past few weeks I've been especially struck by how loud cars are! I haven't thought about it much before, maybe because I've always been around cars. But man! Those things are loud, and dirty.

Then there is another kind of noise: the noise of facebook. How I love facebook, which has gotten me in touch with so many people.....kind of. It is such a strange medium, facebook. I want to look at it and think that I am keeping up with people I care about, but I can't remember all I read, and afterward my brain has this splintered, unfocused feeling. And then, I go back to do it again, very soon. What if someone gets engaged, and I miss it? Does anybody else have this experience with facebook? It's so wonderful and strange a thing.

And of course I make my own noise, mental noise: over-thinking noise, or being irritated noise, or being confused noise. Not always, but much more than never.

These are just some examples. I feel like it's wearing me out, in some way. I really think I'd like some quiet. Outer quiet and inner quiet. I don't know where to find it, though, in the middle of the city. Or anywhere else. I imagine the wild has its noisiness, too, what with rustling leaves and chirping bugs and other lovely things like that.

It sure would be nice to stumble across an empty concert hall right now. I'd love to sit there, still and quiet for for some time, and then, perhaps, get out my tuba and play some long tones and other nice things.

poetry

I was remembering:
I used to come up with poems, while walking.
I can't even remember why I stopped
or when.
Is it my blunted memory,
no longer powerful enough
to remember the lines?
Is it the noise,
the roar of the city
and the clutter in my mind,
and the infinite distractions
carefully crafted
by marketers of every kind?
Or maybe my life is insufficiently tragic
for poetry
now that I am happily married.

Did I write a poem today?


Well.

If so, it is not a very good one.


Maybe the problem is that I know I don't have the time to properly edit them and want to spare myself the pain of poor poems!

People on the phone are crazy!

Where I work, I answer the main phone line. Often the callers behave in ways that make no sense to me. Sometimes they are are all weird in oddly consistent ways, too! I find it surprising and interesting, because I guess I'm secretly a psychologist of some sort.

Here's an example. When they ask for a something that’s handled out of our corporate headquarters, such as warehouse space or human resources, I always say, "That’s handled out of corporate headquarters in Eden Prairie, would you like the number?" and they always say, "No. Could you give me the number?" It’s so weird! It’s like my mouth isn’t saying what I think it’s saying, or it’s impossible for everyone to hear me say that because it’s just so unexpected, or something! (Does that ever happen to you?)

I don’t really mind. I just think it's so odd! I'm surprised every time (though I guess I should be used to it) and sometimes I have to restrain myself from saying something like, "I just offered to give it to you and you said no!" Instead I just say, "Of course, it is: " because that is my job. And then I chuckle to myself, because that is what I do.

Don't be cynical!

Don't be cynical! Work hard, be kind, and amazing things will happen.

If you don't happen to know, that's roughly what Conan O'B. said toward the end of his last appearance as host of the Tonight Show. I like the message. It seems wise and good.

light and delicate

...cut your attachment to the earth and like unto the essence of the spirit become ye light and delicate. Then with a firm resolution, a pure heart, a rejoiced spirit, and an eloquent tongue, engage your time in the promulgation of the divine principles...

When I was pregnant with my first child, I gained a lot of weight, and got very, very tired. The simplest little thing - climbing a single flight of stairs, or walking to the kitchen to get myself a cup of water, or, heavens forbid, bending down around that huge belly to tie my bootlaces (which was actually quite painful) - became a challenge for which I had to psych myself up and, truthfully, avoided if possible. I was neither light nor delicate and I engaged in rather little. I even got boots with zippers instead of laces.

During that time, and since then, I experienced a similar heaviness of spirit. Initially, I think it was related to the physical exertion and sleep deprivation that came with that particular pregnancy and built up with the months and months of sleep deprivation that followed, but I think it then became a habit that I've been needing to recover from. Things have been harder and slower for me to do than they probably should be, and I've been discouraged. I'd go so far as to say that my spirit has been downright muddy.

Ye are even as the bird which soareth, with the full force of its mighty wings and with complete and joyous confidence, through the immensity of the heavens, until, impelled to satisfy its hunger, it turneth longingly to the water and clay of the earth below it, and, having been entrapped in the mesh of its desire, findeth itself impotent to resume its flight to the realms whence it came. Powerless to shake off the burden weighing on its sullied wings, that bird, hitherto an inmate of the heavens, is now forced to seek a dwelling-place upon the dust.

Fortunately, in recent months, I've been feeling a lot better, and I think this is a really good time in my life to focus on being lighter and more delicate, and just not bothering to be bogged down all the time. I'm tired of it. Maybe I'm over-interpreting, I don't know, but it's working well for me right now as a concept of general self improvement. I've been thinking about it in ways like:

• If a thought of "ugh, do I really have to do that?" or a feeling of laziness comes, I'll cut it off and replace it with just doing the darn thing! There is usually no need to waste time waiting a few minutes, remembering, forgetting, remembering again, dreading, or wondering "why me?"
  
• If I start to feel overwhelmed by the multitude or magnitude of tasks at hand, figure out if any of them are actually urgent, and if so do those. If not, just pick one and get started, and don't bother with fretting about excessive and unnecessary prioritizing, which (for me, these days) wastes valuable time.
  
• If I start to worry or get annoyed about something that doesn't matter, just stop.
  

A friend of mine recently facebooked an article that seemed relevant. It says that if you're merely tolerating something, it is taking valuable time and energy away from what you love. So you should either choose to love it or say "no" to it. I'm not really up for a huge change right now, but I think I can apply the concept in ways to help my current project. I can think about getting rid of obnoxious things in my life, or if I can't get rid of them, really appreciating them instead of being all bothered.


I am still trying. I have a long way to go. I know I will be coming across much more mud and mire, and with my luck this will be happening before I even get rid of all I've got already. I am excited about this, though. I really feel like I'm getting lighter on the inside, and it is making it easier to do things and be even and happy. I can also still see a lot of mud on me, and that is ok. I am up for shedding that too. (Hopefully!)


Here is the rest of the quote about the bird:

Wherefore, O My servants, defile not your wings with the clay of waywardness and vain desires, and suffer them not to be stained with the dust of envy and hate, that ye may not be hindered from soaring in the heavens of My divine knowledge.

And, just because I like to cite my sources (even though it's just a form that I am borrowing), and, of course, since it's a good point:

When a thought of war comes, oppose it by a stronger thought of peace. A thought of hatred must be destroyed by a more powerful thought of love.

My Hair

I'm secretly vain. There, I said it. For much of my life my strategy was to try to look nice without looking like I tried, because I didn't want to care, or at least, I didn't want people to know that I cared. Now that I've been in a professional arena for a while, I do want to look like I'm trying to look good, because that is the professional thing to do, but not, you know, because I didn't look good anyway. I'm just adding some nice polish because I am that awesome, and by the way, might deserve a raise. Or something.

I've felt a little better about my secret vanity since it came to me one day that beauty is a virtue. Of course! But still, I think I should be happy either way. Wouldn't that be better?

My hair has a surprisingly, and somewhat distressingly, big impact on how I feel. Maybe this is common, I don't know, but it is sure true for me. If I think my hair looks bad or weird, it can a serious social and emotional handicap for me. I think I'm finally starting to realize that, when my hair is having a good or a bad day, week or month, I don't look as different to other people as I do to myself, which is helping me with the old philosophy of "Just smile and act like you look great!" which I've noticed working really well for others in the past. But still. It's there, at the corner of my mind. Distracting.

I recently got a new haircut, with bangs. Among my haircut experiences, it is most similar to the home haircut I used to get when I was in the 4-7 age range, which is saying something, because the cuts are not really that similar at all. Pretty much every day is a big improvement over the state of my hair just before the recent haircut (which was just before Christmas), which is good, but it seems like it is different every day. It's funny, because it's making me feel a little confused! Today it looks pretty good, but nothing like it did when it looked pretty good last week! And some days in between it looks weird, or frumpy, or...just weird. It's like a little tiny identity crisis. Just settle in to one of the good-looking looks please!

You know, hair tends to drive me crazy anyway. I don't like finding it places. I don't like mine long, and anything shorter than long gets complicated to organize. Honestly, I think hair may be more trouble than it's worth and I wish that really short, maintenance-free hair would become stylish, though I'm not willing to be the leader in that trend. Not yet. We'll see, I guess.

Ok. I guess that's enough about my hair. It's funny that of all the things I've been thinking, this is the one I've managed to post about.