David’s new school has a school-wide meeting every Monday morning. During these, they discuss school-wide issues. Last week, it was talking about school rules. This week it was about good wolf vs. bad wolf. Here’s the story copied from their speech:
An old Cherokee chief was trying to teach his grandson about life. He said, “A fight is going on inside of me. It’s a terrible fight between two wolves. One wolf is evil. He’s angry, envy, sorrow, regret, arrogance, self-pity, resentment, and ego. The other wolf inside of me is good. He’s joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, kindness, empathy, generosity, and truth. This fight is going on inside of me and inside of you as well. It’s inside every person.” The grandson thought for a moment and said, “Grandfather, which wolf will win?” The grandfather said, “Whichever one you feed.”
When we are angry and mean and we think unkind thoughts, we feed the evil wolf side and it becomes stronger. But when we’re kind and thoughtful, we feed and strengthen the good wolf side. We should try to make our good wolf side stronger. Since the grandfather says the wolf we feed gets stronger, we want to feed the good wolf side and starve the evil wolf side.
This got me thinking about my goals for this year. One of my goals this year was to be free of my past and the things I get hung up on. Stop worrying constantly and start appreciating the good things around me.
I think the Good Wolf and the Bad Wolf analogy applies to the way we look at life, too. I know that on my rough days, I look around and only see the bad things about my life. I see the piles of dishes in the sink or toys on the floor. I see where I’m failing or where I am not doing enough. It’s a dark day so everything I see is dark. I look for the bad.
And then there are those wonderful days where I feel really happy. All I see is the good stuff. No one can knock me down. I love my kids, my house, my husband, my life. I feel on top of the world and super-duper lucky.
Both of these days exist but they are rare. Most of the time life is just ordinary. I am not in that bad place but I am also not at the top of the mountain. And since these kinds of days are way more frequent, I think what I do on these kinds of days is what matters most.
It is on these kinds of days that I need to feed the Good Wolf of my life. Not just be kind to others but also be kind to myself. And positive about my life. I’ve learned that the same situation can be seen from many points of view. And the trick to happiness is looking for the good. For example, I can whine about how I have to get up at 5:30 to exercise or I can feel good about having some time completely to myself. I can stop taking the family photos because my hair isn’t colored, or I can just focus on all the smiles in our eyes. There’s always something to pick on if you want to be negative.
And there’s always something to smile about if you look for it.
That’s one of the reasons I do the gratitude journal every day. It forces me to take a moment and notice the good in my life. Every single day. And realizing that there’s something good every single day is very powerful. It makes you appreciate your life on an altogether new level.
I think “looking for the good” is one of the biggest changes I can do to actually feel happier. Maybe it’s called being optimistic. But when I think of words like optimistic or pessimistic, I think of the future. Like how you think the future will turn out. Looking for the good is all about the present. Looking at a situation right now and seeing the good in it. Seeing the magic in it. Figuring out what works (and not what doesn’t.) I do think this is a characteristic and something I can nurture in myself (and my kids.)
When David came home and told me about this story, he said he wants to add two more wolves “Happy Wolf” and “Sad Wolf” and they’re not fighting each other, he said. So you can feed the sad one every now and then but that you should try to feed the “Happy Wolf” more often. I like this because it shows that both happy and sad feelings exist and are legitimate. While it’s realistic to think we can work to be good most of the time, it’s unrealistic to assume sad feelings won’t ever exist.
But it is possible to feed the happy wolf more. It is possible to look at the good in things. Sometimes you have to search really hard but almost always there’s something you can find. And, like most things in life, the more you try, the easier it gets.
You just have to choose to look.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately again and like before I originally thought these would end up as individual posts but I can’t seem to find the time (or more like motivation) to sit and write it all out so I am going to try this quicker version instead.
Here are part 1, part 2 and part 3.
14. Looking for the Quick Fix. This, too, has been on my mind a lot lately. We seem to have grown into a society of people looking for the quick fix. Learn Japanese in 24 hours. Become a master programmer in a week. Blah blah. These are not possible goals. Things take time. Dedication. Work. Becoming a master takes time. To me it’s a contradiction in terms. Trust me, I’d love to wake up tomorrow morning and be a master artist. Someone who can draw beautifully. But it’s not going to happen. Most of the people you see as “overnight” successes are people who are obsessively putting time and effort into their passion. Painting night and day. Writing for hours on end. Drawing again and again. When I study a new language I study for about 4-5 hours a day for months! Months. Gladwell famously mentions in his Outliers book that you need to dedicate 10,000 hours to something to master it. Break that down. An hour a day would get you 365 hours (ok 366 on leap years.) at that rate, you’d reach 10,000 in 27 years. If you do two hours a day, it’s still going to take 13.5 years. And when was the last time you put in two hours a day, every single day, into anything? I am a big proponent of “what you pay attention to blossoms.” And attention = time in our society. There are many things that are faster today. Like finding the meaning of a word or the original book a movie is based on, etc. You can google just about anything. But you still can’t shortcut life. If you want to be a good artist, writer, sports player, musician, programmer, physicist, you name it, you need to put in the time and the effort. Not just empty time either. Meaningful, purposeful time. Studying it, observing, growing, learning. I truly believe that. When I get frustrated with my sketches and how elementary they look, I remind myself I’ve put in maybe 10-20 hours so far. That’s 0.2% of 10,000. I’ve got a long way to go. Sometimes I need more perspective to bring me back to reality. It’s always about perspective. It also reminds me that where I spend my time matters. Very much.
15. Internet and blogs have brought real value into my life. I know it’s fashionable to bash blogs as a waste of time People who’ve inspired me despite not knowing them or ever having met them in person. There are people out there who share and I read and I get inspired to try things in my own life. Sometimes I succeed and discover something I never knew before or find a new passion. Sometimes it doesn’t work out but I am still thankful for having tried. But there are people who’ve tangibly changed my life. Heather is the reason I bought my first digital SLR. It prompted Jake to teach me more about photography. The camera led me to my first business. It brought on a passion I didn’t even know I had. I’d liked taking photos before but nothing like this. I learned so much about photography. Discovered a true love. I might or might not scrapbook my whole life but I will always take photos. It’s my passion and I put the hours into it, but Heather was the person who opened that world to me. She triggered it. Just by being herself. I am so grateful. Ali has inspired me in many ways but the most significant one is December Daily. Because of that album, I now always plan a million activities for my family during December. It’s become a tradition and something we all cherish so much. We owe so many of our adventures to this. So many amazing memories we will now have forever. December Daily is what triggered that for me. Ali’s pages and point of view also helped me look more closely at the everyday moments in my life. Tell our ordinary stories. This, too, has changed my life. It’s like getting to look back up on the “good old days” while they are still happening. It increases awareness, gratitude, and joy. Cathy, too, has changed my life. She is the one who triggered my “getting healthy” goal this year. Yes I am doing all the work but the trigger matters. The Nike+ made a tangible difference for me and I read about that in Cathy’s blog. Seeing her transform gave me hope. And now I have lost over 24 lbs in six months and I am the smallest size I’ve ever been in my life. More significantly I exercise every single day. With the exception of a brief hour with Heather, I’ve never met these people. We don’t regularly email or chat. But they have tangibly changed my life. If that’s not real value, I don’t know what is.
16. Self-conversation matters. I recently finished Christy’s amazing she art class and it made me realize something. As I watched her paint and stamp, I heard her say “oh that’s cute” or “i love that” often. I noticed that even if she made a mistake, she wouldn’t beat herself up about it. She’d just work with it, around it, or try to fix it. She was easy on herself. She enjoyed the process and was generally happy. When I create art, that’s not how it goes for me. I generally beat myself up a million times. I feel like I’ve ruined the piece a good ten times. I have to stop myself from stopping and chucking it away. I feel like it’s all just proof that I suck at this. It’s like I am waiting all along to be proven right that I am no good. Isn’t that terrible? Watching her made me realize that I’ve noticed others be positive, too. People enjoy the process. They build themselves up and see possibilities. I need to focus on that. Focus on patting myself in the back, cheering myself on. Being more positive. Feeling like I can do this. And giving myself permission to learn. To explore. I talked a lot about the “little girl” in my Finding Your Way class at BPC. The little one that lives inside each of us and the one who’s full of energy and hope and creativity and ideas. The one where most of the good stuff comes from. I feel like when it comes to art and mixed media I squash mine a lot and often. I am not kind to her. I need to work on this.
and there we are. that’s what’s on my mind lately.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately again and like before I originally thought these would end up as individual posts but I can’t seem to find the time (or more like motivation) to sit and write it all out so I am going to try this quicker version instead.
Here are part 1 and part 2.
9. My kids can teach me so much. I’ve noticed a lot of things my kids do that I can learn from. For example, my little boy is very persistent. When he doesn’t know how to do something, he keeps trying and trying and trying until he gets it. More significantly, he doesn’t beat himself up each time he fails. He does sit there and bash himself when he stumbles and falls. He might cry if it hurt, but he doesn’t act like “I can’t believe i fell again! I am such a moron.” He gets up and runs again. And again. He also eats what he loves first. He doesn’t save it for last like I often did. I’ve learned over the years that if I save my favorites to last, I end up eating everything even if I am full, which is not good. My kids are not afraid to ask for help. They do like to do some things by themselves but they also feel comfortable asking for help. They don’t worry about looking stupid or being judged. They just know they can get it done better or faster or more correctly so they ask for help. They know it’s a part of the learning and growing process. They communicate. Often and clearly. They tell me what they are thinking and they are persistent I listen. They also teach me to have more fun. They spend their time doing what they love. If something starts to get boring, they move on and do something else. I tend to spend a lot of my free time doing things I’ve told myself I should do. There’s balance here of course but I do need to spend more time enjoying the moments. There’s no saying how life will turn out, might as well have a bit more fun while I can.
10. The Switch. I’ve learned, over time, that I have a switch inside. I tend to be really nice and kind to most people. I assume the best of them etc. etc. I’ve had many people be mean to me over the years. But I don’t mind the obvious mean people. What I do mind is people who are subtly mean. Who start taking advantage of me. Who end up being two-faced and unkind. I am not sure how and why it happens, but I tend to assume the best of a person until one day they do something (often something seemingly small) that makes me realize how they’ve really not been nice all along and sort of been taking advantage of me little bit at a time. Or just that they are not actually nice. And then the switch flips and I can never see this person in the same light again. I am hurt and broken inside and there’s almost nothing they can do to get me out of that bad place. It takes a long time to get there but once I am there, it’s like I can’t get out. Now everything that comes from this person is filtered through my negative opinions of him/her and I assume the worst and I assume unkindness. I think both are flawed. No one is nice all the time and no one is mean all the time. People are human. I think when I look up to someone, I often make them bigger than they are. They are almost sure to fail me. So I do need to watch for that. But I also need to pay more attention so before it even comes to the switch point, I can reach out and communicate or slowly distance myself so that the switch never comes on. This way, I still have a chance to cool down and see things without positive or negative filters.
11. Looking for the Good. I know I’ve talked about this before. But I always come back to it. Especially when thinking about #10 above. I have a way of getting to that bad place. Thinking everyone hates me. Hating myself. Crushing myself with my own judgements and words. Reading into everything everywhere and making it about me and about how I am failing at things, failing the people I love. I can go on and on. I’ve learned over time that most of this is a reflection of how I feel about myself. My default place is the insecure place where I need affirmation and support. However, there are times I feel in my element. I feel strong. Comfortable. Then I see things more positively. So I am making a point of looking for the good lately. I am trying to remind myself. Just like the practice of gratitude, looking for good in your life, in people’s words and actions changes my minutes, hours, days and life. If I feel lost, I try to play with my kids who, I am so happy to say, are joyful little boys. They remind me that life is beautiful. They laugh at the sound of music and make silly faces. So I am going to make a point of looking for the good. Choosing joy. I seem to need regular reminders. But that’s ok. I will remind myself again and again for as long as it takes. Because this is important.
12. Rest and Restoration is Important. I am not good at slowing down. I like being busy. It makes me happier, more productive, more fulfilled, etc. But I also am learning to appreciate the value of rest. For me, it’s not as related to how much I did as much as it is about my stress. I could do a lot of stuff but not feel stressed out and so I don’t need rest. But if I do something that really stresses me out, has me on an edge for days, I invariably need to rest. I need to restore all that energy I spent. I need to go back to my place of happy, relaxed comfort zone. If that means I lie on the couch and read that’s ok. The thing I do often is that I beat myself up for not doing the items on my todo list during these times and then I don’t do them anyway. I just make myself feel bad. So instead of doing something I might enjoy, I punish myself and tell myself that if I am not doing this item on my todo list, I should not get to do this other fun thing. Instead I do nothing. I waste the time altogether, whining and feeling tired. What a waste. I’ve decided that during these times, I will give myseld permission to just do something I love. It might be reading for a whole day or just sitting and playing legos with my sons. It might be spending the whole day on pinterest. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as I am choosing it and I am not beating myself up for it. Anything that helps me rest and restore the energy is ok to do. Some of my best ideas come when I let go and relax fully (just like some of my best ideas come when I am working hard. Extreme situations seem to bring forth creativity for me.) So here’s to letting myself rest without scolding myself.
13. Passing Judgement. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. I wonder why we’re do wired to pass judgement. Where does that come from? How does that protect us? How does it help you to bring someone else down? Why are people mean? I know there are times people are jealous and let that seep out with mean comments. But why? How does it make me feel better to say something mean to you? If I have no money and can’t go on vacation, then I see that you’re going to Hawaii and I say something like “It must be nice to be able to go to Hawaii.” That made you feel terrible but how did it help me? Do I get some kind of a physical release or a happiness boost from having torn you down? I truly don’t get it. Genuinely. I can understand the instinct behind jealousy. I can understand the curiosity and wanting to know about someone else’s drama. What I don’t understand is how making them feel bad actually help you feel good. I have personally experienced how helping someone can make you feel good. It can lift you up. Does hurting someone also lift you up? For me, it always makes me feel worse. Like a crappy person. And now I’ve made them and me feel bad. What’s the point of that? I am not being flippant here. I swear I don’t get it. I would love some explanation on this one. I am not saying I am always good but I do try not to deliberately break people. I genuinely feel good for others when they reach their dreams and goals. I don’t think their success makes mine any less likely. On the contrary, I now see it as a reachable dream. Sure I feel jealous sometimes, frustrated, wonder why not me, etc etc. I’m human. But I don’t think that making that other person feel bad will actually ever help me feel better.
there you go. a bit of what’s on my mind. more coming next week.
Here’s a continuation of Random Thoughts I’ve been having lately. You can read part I here.
Here we go for more random:
5. Don’t believe what you see on TV. Ok this one is a complete side note but a few weeks ago, Jake and I went to the movies and there was this one scene were two people were having sex for the first time (with each other, not ever) and suddenly one said she only had 45 seconds and the other said “no problem” and so within that time, they both finished at the same time and it was implied that it was magnificent for both. It was a Thursday night and the theater was mostly empty. At the end of that scene, one person in the back shouted “Yeah Right” and everyone began to laugh.(sarcasm anyone?) Because, of course, it was so beyond unrealistic. It was almost ridiculous. But at the time, you didn’t really think about it. You were caught up in the scene. And this is so common in media these days. Giving us messages of “typical” marriages or relationships or intimacy. It makes everyone feel like they must not be the norm. They must be failing, messing up. Like how if you’re not a size 2, you’re fat. Consciously or not, we’re receiving these messages and trying to measure up. I think it’s terrible and wish they would stop feeding us these made up lies. I think if we all spoke the truths a bit more often, people could connect better and in general feel less messed up.
6. I’m Bad with Transitions. When I was at the airport for CHA, I noticed that I am bad with transitions. Sitting there and waiting for the plane was stressful because I kept wondering if I would get to carry my bags on and be able to fit it and who would sit next to me and on and on. I do this quite a lot. When I am on my way to something or somewhere I am often anxious and worried. Once I get there, I adjust and I am almost always ok. It’s the unknown that throws me off and brings in stress. I know this is common with kids and parents often have routines for transitions. Like going from dinner to bedtime or play to naptime or school to home etc. Maybe I need routines for my transitions too. More prep time. Maybe it will reduce my anxiety. I think it’s worth a shot. So for the next month or so, I will pay attention to when anxiety arises and try to see if it’s something I can establish a routine around. If you’ve done this, I would love advice.
7. Worry Lists I worry often and a lot. From huge things like something happening to my family to tiny things like oversleeping or doing some art badly. Worrying is a constant on my mind and takes up more room than I’d like and I often look for ways to get rid of it. I’ve mentioned the God Box idea before which I think is wonderful and I will do it. But I wanted more, so while I was flying to CHA, I decided to try something new. I sat down and brainstormed a long list of everything I was worrying about at that very moment. Big or small. Every single thing. Then a week later, I went back and wrote whether that item happened that week or not. And if it did happen, what consequences that brought. Were they as bad as I had imagined? Some of the items are long long term like something happening to one of my kids. For those I just check if something happened to them that week and then they go on the list again the next week. For others, they are short duration and get completely resolved that week. Like a meeting I am worried about. The meeting comes and goes and it’s over. So I can permanently get rid of that one item. The idea is that if I see week after week that a high percentage of my worries do not come true, maybe I will calm down more, worry less. If I see that nothing happened to my kids 98 weeks in a row, my senses of statistics starts kicking in and telling me it’s ok to worry a small amount less. Maybe. I figure it can’t hurt to try, right?
8. You’re not that special. Just like I am done with sarcasm, I am totally over the attitude of “i won’t do it cause everyone else is doing it.” People who don’t go to a place, listen to a music, read a book, etc. cause others are doing it drive me insane. What makes you so special. Are you above and beyond all normal people? Here’s a quote I found on Amy’s friend’s site that I love:
Andre Dubus III, author of House of Sand and Fog, another OBC selection responded to Franzen with, “It is so elitist it offends me deeply. The assumption that high art is not for the masses, that they won’t understand it and they don’t deserve it – I find that reprehensible. Is that a judgment on the audience? Or on the books in whose company he would be?”
This was in response to Franzen’s snubbing Oprah for picking his book. But I love this quote. What’s wrong with masses? Why are you so superior? I just don’t get this. Truly. I like the music I like and the books I like. Some of them are popular and others aren’t. This doesn’t make me less or more special. It just makes me, me. I feel that as long as you’re authentic to you, you’re special. And if you stay clear of everything “the masses” like, you can easily miss out on some wonderful things. Seems plain silly to me.
There you go. A bit of a brain dump for you. I have one more thing to write about but that’s for later. This one’s too long already and I am sure you’ve had enough of my thoughts for today.
So I’ve been carrying these thoughts around for weeks now. Some of them for months and I originally wanted to make a post for each but I’ve quickly realized that it will never happen. I will postpone it forever. So ,instead, I’ve decided to write paragraphs for each and clump them together. This might be one post or if it’s too long two, three posts. I will just write until I have nothing more to say or I am tired. I hope this doesn’t annoy you. They are not in any order at all.
1. Your Words Come True. Henry Ford said, “If you think you can do a thing or think you can’t do a thing, you’re right.” I think this statement is very pithy. It shows the power of your thoughts. Regardless of facts, your thoughts play a big part in the outcome of your actions. I firmly believe this holds true of your words, too. If you say you can’t do something, you likely cannot. But the power of words go even further because since they are often outwardly expressed, they end up affecting others around us as well and they start to believe what you say. If you say “I’m fat” enough times, people around you start seeing you as fat. If you tell someone you’re dumb, they stop thinking otherwise. I promise you, it works consistently. The number of times you need say it out loud might differ but words are powerful. They convince people eventually. So it’s better to say things that are empowering instead of defeating. Even if you don’t think you can do it, you can say “I can try.” or “I can give it my best.” That’s what I do with the exercise. I tell myself that I will give it all I have. That I can do it. I don’t always believe it, but I say it anyway. So this is for you, and for me, to remember that words have power. What you say comes true. It’s a way of calling things to yourself. So why not call the best?
2. Being Busy is not Always Bad. I always favor a long todo list. I like being busy and I like doing doing doing. For a while, I worried that this was my way of avoiding some deep issue. That I wasn’t ok to stand still and I would break down if I did. Or something. I am not sure what but it had me worried. And then I had a bunch of time off so I slowed down. A lot. I realized that not having much to do or not doing much didn’t cause me to breakdown. It caused me to be lazy. I sat on the couch and moved very little. I read. I wrote. I watched TV. But overall, I felt sad. Empty. Like I didn’t really have a purpose. I like having purposes. I like a schedule and todo lists. I like deadlines. I like getting things done. Not because I am running away from something but because I love the feeling of accomplishment. Even finishing a tiny task makes me happy. Rearranging my table. Finishing a layout. Whatever it might be. So I decided to stop worrying and feeling bad about who I am and what I do. I can sit still and read for hours and it’s great, but being busy is not bad. It’s who I am and I’m all about embracing who I am these days. So there we go.
3. I am not Fun.Here’s another one I’ve clung on to for years and years. I am not what you’d typically consider to be a fun person. I don’t dance, drink, do drugs, or go out partying. I talk a lot. (A lot!!) but I am much more of a 1-1 person. I prefer deep, authentic conversations. For the longest time, I felt bad about not being fun. When I saw people with lots of friends partying or having fun, I felt envious. But then I forced myself to think of what I am. I am authentic, reliable, loyal, kind, patient, and loving. Helpful. Genuine. I will do anything for the person I love. I read a lot and have a wide range of interests so I can talk about most subjects and have a wide variety of friends. So I don’t drink with them or go dancing. But I am me. And I am here. I think it’s time I made peace with that instead of desperately wishing I was everything I am not. Being consistent, dependable and loyal is nothing to sneeze at in a friendship. Right? They will just have to go drinking with someone else.
4. Sarcasm. I am so so done with sarcasm. I never got it. I think it’s a way to be mean without getting in trouble. It sounds mean, bitter and sometimes even nasty. What’s the point? I think it’s completely overrated. I’d rather have a kind, genuine friend who’s happy. Any day of the week. So if your thing is being sarcastic, I am letting you know now, that I am not going to respond to it. I will not feed it. I refuse to be a part of it. I think it’s destructive. And mean. There, I said it.
More coming next week.
I live with guilt twenty-four/seven.
No matter what time of the day or week you catch me, I can list five
things I feel guilty about. There are the typical things like the
chocolate I ate a few minutes ago, or the exercise I didn’t do, or the
emails sitting in my inbox. Things that are common to everyone’s life.
Things that make up New Year’s resolutions that never get met. They are
such shared experiences that books are written about them, careers are
made trying to monetize them, and they even have Hallmark cards about them.
`
These pangs of guilt live in the surface of life. The place where you
know it doesn’t much matter if I ate chocolate half an hour ago or end
up a size smaller or bigger next week. I know that the inbox will fill
again. I know that the friends will forgive me, and often will be too
busy to write back themselves. All it takes to fix these things is
admitting that while I would love for these issues to disappear, I don’t
really want to do the work or sacrifice they will need.
And then there is the big stuff. Spending time with family vs working
all hours of the night. Snapping at my husband when I’m pissed at a
coworker. Ignoring my kid because I am too tired and don’t want to deal
with whatever small thing he’s frustrated about right then. There are
the things that make you pick sides. Living in America vs being near my
family. Working vs staying home with David. Things that don’t come with
right answers. Things that a lot of work might not make go away. Things
that are not obvious.
Those are the cases where I wish someone would pull me aside and tell me
the secret answers. I know that guilt is a wasted
emotion. Yet, I can’t help it. I don’t want to have to sacrifice one
for the others. I want to know that I can love my son and be there for
him without taking the frustration out on my husband. I want to spend
time with the things I love and my son and get my work done. I want to
do a good job of it all.
I think that’s why I take so many pictures of David: to prove I was
there. I saw those moments, I experienced them. The funny thing is, the
camera is the reason I don’t end up experiencing them. Capturing the
moment and being in the moment are mutually exclusive. At least for me.
As much as I love the photos, I end up missing out in a bigger way.
Each time I am in one place, doing one thing, I am feeling guilty about
not being in the other place doing the other thing. Guilty that I am not
at home feeding him. Guilty that I didn’t go to work early and finish my
overflowing task list. Guilty that I am reading when it’s one of the few
hours in the week I get to see my family.
My new plan is to put a stop to all the guilt. Life’s too short and
maybe I could see more of David if I didn’t work so much. And maybe I
could be more successful at work if I didn’t have a family to go home
to. And maybe I could spend more time reading if I didn’t have either.
But I do. And I love all of them. And I can enjoy all of them. If only I
can enjoy the moment I am in instead of the one I’m not getting to
experience.
We pick sides all the time. And I am picking mine. I will have it all.
Maybe not simultaneously, maybe not even in equal doses at all times.
But, even the small doses can be magical if I stop worrying about where
I am not and instead enjoy where I am.
In 1999, I bought a small fighting fish to accompany me at work. The little blue fish would sit in his cage and I would sit in mine and we’d go about doing out business of the day. Every now and then I would tap his tank, which is too big of a word for the tiny cup he lived in, and he would attack my pen like his life depended on it. He never quite reached my pen; he couldn’t figure out that there was a plastic layer between him and the pen. I would be gone for the weekend, sometimes for three days, but he’d always be there to greet me when I got back to work. I wasn’t very happy with work those days and it cheered me up to have something wating for me when I got there.
The day before I left for Tokyo, I brought the fishie home, so Jake could take care of him while I was gone. I woke up the next morning to find him floating on the surface. I figured my friend didn’t want to be a burden to anyone or didn’t like the idea of not seeing me for six months, the scheduled duration of my trip. That was the only way I could stop myself from being sad about having lost my friend.
My first week at work here, in San Diego, I dragged Jake to a pet store and bought another fighter. I had had my old one for almost a year and remembered his generous companionship and easy care. I took my fish to work and fed him daily and tried to talk to entertain him. “Here you go birdie,” I’d say each time. I have had a bird for the last eight years and am so used to feeding him that I would say the words before I thought them. After a few weeks of making the same mistake, I decided to name my fish “Birdie.” This way, he wouldn’t get offended at my mistake.
Birdie kept me company during long nights at work and came home with me at the end of November, when I started working from home. I put him in front of the balcony so he could watch the palm trees and enjoy sunny San Diego. In the last two weeks, Birdie kept staying at the bottom of his tank. I tried to entice him with food or with clean water, but he would appear momentarily before he sunk back into the bottom of the tank. I knew something was wrong but I had no idea what to do. I just hoped, like me, he was a bit gloomy and would go back to being happy soon.
This afternoon, my little fighting fish, Birdie, died. I’ll miss you my little friend.
There are days when something tiny throws off the whole balance of the day. And you can’t even tell why, when, or how it began. Days when an unreturned email means much more than the fact that the person was too busy. Days when a small rejection becomes personal. Days when all color seems to drain from the world and everything is seen through blurry eyes. Days when the ones on your side don’t know what they’re talking about and those on the opposite side have it right. When a miniscule hiccup on the road becomes a full blown hurdle. Enough reason to stop trying. Days when you feel it’s easier to give up or give in. When you want to go to sleep just so you can wake up to a new day and hope it will be better. When all possibility out of this one is already drained out.
Today is one of those days for me. Here’s to wishing tomorrow looks better.
The first call came Friday night around 2a.m, I think. All I remember is the phone ringing and my not being able to tell if it was real or my dream. When I answered it, I was so tired that it took me several minutes to recognize my mom. “Don’t be scared,” she said, which is the way we always start a conversation if bad news is about to follow. She continued to explain that two major synagogues in Istanbul were bombed, but that I shouldn’t worry because they were all accounted for and alive. Jake’s brother, who moved to Istanbul a week ago, was also safe and sound.
I got up and read about the events in all the papers I could find. I read the Times and CNN and several Turkish papers and then I went back to sleep. The next morning I talked to my mom again. She said both synagogues had Bar mitzvahs scheduled and my parents were invited and had decided not to attend. Otherwise, they would have been in the synagogue at the time of the bombings. I asked if they knew anyone who was affected. A friend of mine’s fiancee’s brother, she said, was a guard at the synagogue and only 19. He is no longer alive. Another friend’s mother was taking her granddaughter to school, Both dead.
Last night, my cell phone rang around 3a.m. I had told my friend Tara, who lives in Ireland and was working on a college application which was due today, that she could call me if she needed a last look before she sent her paper in. So when the call came and I saw a long number on my caller-id, I assumed it was she. But it was my mom again and she started with, “Don’t be scared,” again. She said “Bad things are happening here and I don’t want you to be worried. We’re all fine and at home, I am still looking for Jake’s brother, call his parents.” I told her that I didn’t want to call them unless we knew he was okay so could she please call me back. I went back to bed with my cell phone. She called back in fifteen minutes and said she had found him and he was okay. I called my father in law, read some of the web sites and went back to bed. I was to wake up in two hours and report to a twelve-hour workday. I had an 8A.M. meeting that I still hadn’t fully prepared for. Sleep must have eventually come because I remember looking at my clock around 4:50 and then again at 6:15. Right after I arrived at work, my mom called again and said that they were all at my sister’s and very shaken but alive.
I remember the Tuesday morning of September 11th clearly and how thankful I felt that my dad was able to reach us before the phone lines went dead. In the twelve years I have lived in the United States, I have never had to wake up to the phone calls I have received in the last week. I am not sure how many more of them I can take. I am even more scared of the possibility that after another such horrible incident, they might not come. Moving back home has crossed my mind more often this week than ever before. I know that I can’t protect them if I am there but at least I can live each day with them and be there. I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense but I genuinely don’t know how to deal with this situation.
It also made me think a lot more about the insignificant worries that get in the way of my living my life with joy and how perspective only comes with tragedy. I am not naive enough to think such events never occurred before but I do know that they have suddenly become a lot more prominent in my life than ever before and I haven’t fully figured out how to cope. Not that I want to learn to cope with this.
This is a shot taken outside the building where I work at 3:30pm today.
The fires have been burning for three days now. When they started, up north, on Saturday night, we had no idea. We were entertaining twelve people down by the pool, having bbq and enjoying the hot tub. Sunday morning, Jake woke up to find some ashes on my bikini, on the balcony, and we could smell quite a bit of smoke. We figured it must be a small fire down the street. Jake went to get some bagels and the New York Times and told me to turn on the TV. By this point, hell had broken loose.
I don’t know many people in San Diego, yet. I called and emailed the one person I knew in Scripps Ranch. She had taken her cats, a few belongings and evacuated her house just in case. I told her she could come here anytime and asked her to keep in touch. Everyone else I knew seemed safe and sound in their home. We had out of town guests who ended up spending most of the day holed up with us. The restaurants shut down, the air smelled too bad to take a walk. People called with rumors that they were evacuating our neighborhood. I kept wondering if I should pack up. I couldn’t even figure out what I would take with me if the situation arose. The experience of being glued and horrified by TV brought back unpleasent memories of September 2001. The more I watched, the more depressed and scared I became.
The fires are still raging on. The quality of air declines every day. Cars are covered with ash and it’s pointless to try to clean them. Today, I watched the sun set behind a wall of dark smoke. The sky was black and the sun firey red. The word eerie comes to mind.
I know that I am incredibly lucky to still have my house and my job and my loved ones. I know that the fires are moving the other way and the chances of anything hitting my home are reduced. Yet, I still feel uneasy.
The sky isn’t supposed to be red or black in the middle of the day.
“I know you were very nervous, but you really need to watch the right turns,” she says, looking at me. At least, I think she is looking at me; I can’t see her eyes behind the mirrored sunglasses.
I never learned to drive until two weeks ago. In my native country, you need to be eighteen to take the driving test and since I was already in the US for college, I never took the test at eighteen. The summer of my twentieth birthday, my mom asked the driver to give me some lessons and made me work for the written test.
The written exam is very complicated in Turkey; you have to answer questions about traffic, engine and first aid. The driving exam, on the other had, is a joke. You get in their car, go straight, make a U-turn, pull over and you’ve passed. It’s not a huge surprise that Istanbul is full of bad drivers. Before the exam, the driver and I practiced a bit and I drove on my own around the block one time.
So, at twenty, I had a license. I went back to college in Pittsburgh and did not drive. I graduated and moved to New York City and continued not to drive. When we decided to move out of the state, seven years later, we bought a car and I promised Jake I’d drive as part of our all-summer cross-country trip.
And I did. I drove for twelve hours on my first day. The car was swerving a lot, but mostly under control. At the end of the day, my muscles were tight from stressing and my hands hurt from gripping the steering wheel. I drove several more times during the trip, in the farm roads of Texas and highways of Montana. All in all, I drove maybe for ten days.
California State allows a foreign licensed person to get a temporary license until she passes the driving test. I took the written exam with Jake and scheduled my test for two and a half weeks later. I told him that I would do the driving since I needed the exercise and I almost killed us on the ramp to the highway.
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I met my husband in October of 1994. We quickly became close friends, mostly due to one fact: we had tons of fun together. We spent more time laughing than anything else. We talked for hours.
Almost nine years later, he still makes me laugh more than anyone else. I still prefer his company over any alternative. Many fights, many sad times and many tough times later, he is still my best friend.
A few months ago, I was looking for a book called “Important Questions” which contained a list of questions couples should ask each other before they decided to wed. I felt the idea was good but it would never work. People tend to lie in an effort to appear what they wish they were over what they really are. Thus, either party would answer untruthfully and the exercise would be pointless. Who would honestly say, a month before they marry their partner, that they might leave him or her if he or she gets fired. I think the answers can only come with first-hand experience. This is where dating for eight years comes in handy: chances are you’ve already lived through most of the questions. I know we have.
My love and I just celebrated our one-year anniversary which feels funny since we’ve been together about nine years. Do we start from scratch just because we now have a wedding date instead of a “dating date”?
We spent every minute of May together, most of those minutes in a car or in a tent. Amazingly, we still have much to talk about and he’s still my favorite person.
I love you, baby. Happy Annivesary.
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projects for twenty twenty-four
projects for twenty twenty-three
projects for twenty twenty-two
projects for twenty twenty-one
projects for twenty nineteen
projects for twenty eighteen
projects from twenty seventeen
monthly projects from previous years
some of my previous projects
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