Sweet, sweet patience.
I attempted to write this blog three separate times today but every time, I was at a loss for what to be thankful for today. Sure, I found things to be thankful for, but nothing for which I was so thankful that I wanted to dedicate an entire day's blog to it and it alone. So I said to myself each time, "Well, the day's not over. I'll wait and I'm sure by the day's end, something will come forward." Et voila.
Today,then, I'm thankful for two things. 1) Patience, and 2) I am thankful for T-Mobile. They are always so splendidly helpful on a regular basis and that's something I really, truly appreciate. (Especially as someone who used to be a Sprint-subscriber. I experienced truly awful service during those dark days.) Suffice it to say that I'm very enthusiastic about my cell phone service provider. And suffice it to say that my heart just swelled to three times its normal size.
T-Mobile is running a promotion through part of December that offers it's subscribers free companion flights for renewing their service for two years. How amazing is that?! They just made my dream of taking a cross-country vacation to Seattle next year come true.
Spectacular! Thanks, T-Mobile!
Showing posts with label geography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label geography. Show all posts
26 November 2008
19 November 2008
On Flying Alone: Airplanes and Love Notes to My Multitudes
I love flying on planes and I love to do it by myself. There’s something that is always moving to me about being one of many ones. I mean to point out that so many people on planes are traveling alone.
I love to look at them all and wonder who they are and where they’re going and why they’re going there and if they’ll ever come back. I wonder if they’re going home or if they’re leaving and if they’re sad or they’re excited. I wonder if they’re going somewhere they’ve never been before and if they’re scared at all. I wonder if they’re starting over from the beginning or picking up where they left off. Will someone they love be waiting for them with a rapturous smile or will they be walking into a complete unknown when they deboard the plane?
I marvel at this sort of public anonymity. This no-questions-asked rhythm of coming and going. Leaving in a way that is so obvious, going so far away that you have to take to the air to do it. Yet giving no reason for your departure. Everyone is just going or coming and letting it be just that. It’s fascinating.
It occurs to me that I love to leave. I always like to imagine myself as one of the people who are leaving, no matter what kind of trip I’m on. Whether it’s a departure or an arrival. To me it’s the bravest travel there is. I’ve always been captivated by the idea of leaving all things familiar behind and going where I have never existed to anyone before. The slate is wiped clean and I can be a new person. I can invent a new me. Sometimes I like to retain a bit of the Old Jenny, the bits I really liked and the ones that are Me inside and out. But I like the idea of getting the chance to be something I’ve always wanted to be and not having to explain why I’m this way now. In a new place no one knows, I proclaim myself to be how I want to be. Sometimes I discover that how I thought I wanted to be isn’t really what I wanted to be and I return to the parts of Me that remain.
But even still, leaving is scary. It is a difficult process. I don’t meant to make it sound like it’s all fun and games. As a matter of fact, I don’t see it as a game, but as an undeniable duty to myself. There is certainly a struggle (metaphorically) to be met once I get where I’m going (geographically). But in the end, the geography is not what is important. It’s not the destination, but the journey. I find more of Me, a part of Me that I didn’t know was actually Me. This is the reward for this kind of lifestyle. Finding new parts of Me, my confidence grows and I feel more complete. I can state surely that This is Me.
Walt Whitman wrote, “I contain multitudes.” This is the basis for how I feel it necessary to live my life. So my mission is this: discover my multitudes, or as many as I can while the opportunity is mine.
Some notes, though: This is selfish. The way I think is beyond selfish, even. This isn’t something that has escaped me, unnoticed. Sometimes it hurts people, sometimes I ignore that I am not the only one who contains multitudes. I am transient and I don’t think of what my talk of leaving means to others. I don’t have a solution yet for selfishness, so I just want to acknowledge that I know it’s there. If you’re reading this and I’ve ever hurt you, I’m sorry. But there are those of you that take me as I am (I have 2 people in mind and I trust you know who you are). There is beauty and comfort in your roles in my life because I know that no matter where I go, I have never left you, and will never leave you. And no matter where you two go, you have never left me, and will never leave me. I said this recently in a spiel to one of you, but now let me say it to you both: You are Me. This is something I’ve discovered along my journey. You are each one of my multitudes.
Epilogue:
I have to say… when I started writing this post, I had no idea it was going to end up going where it went. But I’m glad it did. I think for the people who don’t understand the way that I think, it’s important to illustrate that leaving isn’t an attempt to erase the past or to push people away. In leaving, I think we afford ourselves the opportunity to find the truth, love and strength of our relationships, such that no matter where we go, we find we are never alone.
I love to look at them all and wonder who they are and where they’re going and why they’re going there and if they’ll ever come back. I wonder if they’re going home or if they’re leaving and if they’re sad or they’re excited. I wonder if they’re going somewhere they’ve never been before and if they’re scared at all. I wonder if they’re starting over from the beginning or picking up where they left off. Will someone they love be waiting for them with a rapturous smile or will they be walking into a complete unknown when they deboard the plane?
I marvel at this sort of public anonymity. This no-questions-asked rhythm of coming and going. Leaving in a way that is so obvious, going so far away that you have to take to the air to do it. Yet giving no reason for your departure. Everyone is just going or coming and letting it be just that. It’s fascinating.
It occurs to me that I love to leave. I always like to imagine myself as one of the people who are leaving, no matter what kind of trip I’m on. Whether it’s a departure or an arrival. To me it’s the bravest travel there is. I’ve always been captivated by the idea of leaving all things familiar behind and going where I have never existed to anyone before. The slate is wiped clean and I can be a new person. I can invent a new me. Sometimes I like to retain a bit of the Old Jenny, the bits I really liked and the ones that are Me inside and out. But I like the idea of getting the chance to be something I’ve always wanted to be and not having to explain why I’m this way now. In a new place no one knows, I proclaim myself to be how I want to be. Sometimes I discover that how I thought I wanted to be isn’t really what I wanted to be and I return to the parts of Me that remain.
But even still, leaving is scary. It is a difficult process. I don’t meant to make it sound like it’s all fun and games. As a matter of fact, I don’t see it as a game, but as an undeniable duty to myself. There is certainly a struggle (metaphorically) to be met once I get where I’m going (geographically). But in the end, the geography is not what is important. It’s not the destination, but the journey. I find more of Me, a part of Me that I didn’t know was actually Me. This is the reward for this kind of lifestyle. Finding new parts of Me, my confidence grows and I feel more complete. I can state surely that This is Me.
Walt Whitman wrote, “I contain multitudes.” This is the basis for how I feel it necessary to live my life. So my mission is this: discover my multitudes, or as many as I can while the opportunity is mine.
Some notes, though: This is selfish. The way I think is beyond selfish, even. This isn’t something that has escaped me, unnoticed. Sometimes it hurts people, sometimes I ignore that I am not the only one who contains multitudes. I am transient and I don’t think of what my talk of leaving means to others. I don’t have a solution yet for selfishness, so I just want to acknowledge that I know it’s there. If you’re reading this and I’ve ever hurt you, I’m sorry. But there are those of you that take me as I am (I have 2 people in mind and I trust you know who you are). There is beauty and comfort in your roles in my life because I know that no matter where I go, I have never left you, and will never leave you. And no matter where you two go, you have never left me, and will never leave me. I said this recently in a spiel to one of you, but now let me say it to you both: You are Me. This is something I’ve discovered along my journey. You are each one of my multitudes.
Epilogue:
I have to say… when I started writing this post, I had no idea it was going to end up going where it went. But I’m glad it did. I think for the people who don’t understand the way that I think, it’s important to illustrate that leaving isn’t an attempt to erase the past or to push people away. In leaving, I think we afford ourselves the opportunity to find the truth, love and strength of our relationships, such that no matter where we go, we find we are never alone.
12 November 2008
literally/figuratively
Cut to the first time since my last post that I've had an ounce of "spare time" for blogging. From where did this sudden appearance of spare time come, you ask? Why, none other than a 3 hour layover in Charlotte, North Carolina. Yes, it is already that time. I'm headed to Connecticut for the nuptials of Erin and LB!
So a lot has happened in the past month-ish. Not the least of which was my foray into "assistant" at the yoga studio. Chris is preening me to take over the Intro to Yoga classes at the studio. In a thrilling turn of events, Chris approached me and wanted to become my mentor. We're bartering, like in the olden days. I help her out around the studio and in exchange she is giving me the tools I need to become a teacher. And she as good as offered me a spot teaching at the EYC. I knew after all those medical bills and the car accident that my Karma was in need of some re-balancing.
In other exciting news, I may or may not have had my last day at CMC. I got a job at Starbucks and I found a ridiculously cheap housing situation for January. Things are good!
And now we find me in North Carolina (this airport, incidentally, has FIVE Starbucks inside its walls. FIVE!) Flying is so interesting to me. From the plane, looking down at the Earth, it felt like I was looking at all the best bits of our planet: the tops of trees (and jeeeeeezus, the colors of NC trees in autumn actually brought tears to my eyes), the rivers winding through the land, the hills, the farms. I know we all have to have places to live, but I couldn't help but think that it was too bad all of those neighborhoods had to ruin the natural art that lay before me.
The juxtaposition was obvious and ironic. The trees were so perfect, the colors so beautiful, so effortless. And then these neighborhoods, with their houses all identical, trying to be perfect, beautiful, effortless. Oh, how they'd failed. I wondered if everyone had a chance to change their perspective, if they'd see it too. If they'd see how silly and disorganized these neighborhoods were. They looked like dice in a game of Yatzee the way they seemed so carelessly thrown down across the land. I wondered if people might see how we, as humans, can be so silly and disorganized in our struggle against what is natural and good.
If everyone could just see the bigger picture (literally? figuratively?), how different would the world be? I know it's not possible to see the bigger picture all the time, but sometimes, in instances like these, you get lucky enough to see it for just a fleeting moment. It oughta be treated like a mile marker. Like, now I have a reference point and so if there's any readjusting I need to do to my plan, then I have to tools to do it.
Readjust what? What plan? How does this relate to me?
Okay, I haven't figured that out yet. I've been up since 4:10 am okay? I'm not quite prepared to answer my own existential-plane-inspired musings. The point is, I know where I am (literally/figuratively).
So a lot has happened in the past month-ish. Not the least of which was my foray into "assistant" at the yoga studio. Chris is preening me to take over the Intro to Yoga classes at the studio. In a thrilling turn of events, Chris approached me and wanted to become my mentor. We're bartering, like in the olden days. I help her out around the studio and in exchange she is giving me the tools I need to become a teacher. And she as good as offered me a spot teaching at the EYC. I knew after all those medical bills and the car accident that my Karma was in need of some re-balancing.
In other exciting news, I may or may not have had my last day at CMC. I got a job at Starbucks and I found a ridiculously cheap housing situation for January. Things are good!
And now we find me in North Carolina (this airport, incidentally, has FIVE Starbucks inside its walls. FIVE!) Flying is so interesting to me. From the plane, looking down at the Earth, it felt like I was looking at all the best bits of our planet: the tops of trees (and jeeeeeezus, the colors of NC trees in autumn actually brought tears to my eyes), the rivers winding through the land, the hills, the farms. I know we all have to have places to live, but I couldn't help but think that it was too bad all of those neighborhoods had to ruin the natural art that lay before me.
The juxtaposition was obvious and ironic. The trees were so perfect, the colors so beautiful, so effortless. And then these neighborhoods, with their houses all identical, trying to be perfect, beautiful, effortless. Oh, how they'd failed. I wondered if everyone had a chance to change their perspective, if they'd see it too. If they'd see how silly and disorganized these neighborhoods were. They looked like dice in a game of Yatzee the way they seemed so carelessly thrown down across the land. I wondered if people might see how we, as humans, can be so silly and disorganized in our struggle against what is natural and good.
If everyone could just see the bigger picture (literally? figuratively?), how different would the world be? I know it's not possible to see the bigger picture all the time, but sometimes, in instances like these, you get lucky enough to see it for just a fleeting moment. It oughta be treated like a mile marker. Like, now I have a reference point and so if there's any readjusting I need to do to my plan, then I have to tools to do it.
Readjust what? What plan? How does this relate to me?
Okay, I haven't figured that out yet. I've been up since 4:10 am okay? I'm not quite prepared to answer my own existential-plane-inspired musings. The point is, I know where I am (literally/figuratively).
19 March 2008
it's the thought
Well, it was a good and romantic thought I was having, when I thought I'd be better at keeping up with a blog the nth time around. It would have worked like in the past, perhaps, if all other variables were held constant. But that's not life, now is it?
So, in keeping with that, a lot's changed since March 1. First and foremost, there was the departure of Audra. She's gone to bigger and better things in Texas. I'm naturally very happy for her and naturally very selfishly sad she's gone.
Again I find myself pondering this phenomenon in my life that always has my best friends moving away. Holly. Erin. Laura. Audra. Le sigh. It's been so long since I've had a best friend conveniently close that I can hardly remember what it was like. But I guess that's just the times in which we live, eh? Everybody's global. Everybody's moving... And it was pointed out to me last night (this is such an easy point to overlook...) that I did some of that moving away myself.
Aaaah, touchée.
The other big news is the arrival of Lily, the kitty, into my life. She's been with me for almost two weeks now. She's a pretty great kitten; we have a swell time together.
Work's work. I've been relatively busy there lately, which I guess is a good thing. I learned the English part of the client that also speaks French. Now that I've had about a week to get used to their procedure, I think they're adding the French part in around Friday or Monday. That should be fun. I'm getting eager to start using the French. I think it'll make things more interesting.
Today and tomorrow are my days off this week and I've given myself a special project. It's called: make my apartment look less like a dorm room. Sounds fun, huh? I got me a little budget set aside for some bookcases, slip covers etc, etc and we're gonna nip this thing in the butt, once and for all. My other special project is to get a mini-garden started here soon. Or at least to get the things I need to grow something. I'm thinking cherry tomatoes. Or peppers.
Next exciting thing in life is that tomorrow my beloved Hodes will be in town along with Hilary Clinton. Whee! By great luck I'm off and I get to go with him to watch her speak. Chris even made us t-shirts! Mine says, "Hoosier President? Hilary 08". I'm so clever...
At any rate. Special project calls... Must be scootin'...
So, in keeping with that, a lot's changed since March 1. First and foremost, there was the departure of Audra. She's gone to bigger and better things in Texas. I'm naturally very happy for her and naturally very selfishly sad she's gone.
Again I find myself pondering this phenomenon in my life that always has my best friends moving away. Holly. Erin. Laura. Audra. Le sigh. It's been so long since I've had a best friend conveniently close that I can hardly remember what it was like. But I guess that's just the times in which we live, eh? Everybody's global. Everybody's moving... And it was pointed out to me last night (this is such an easy point to overlook...) that I did some of that moving away myself.
Aaaah, touchée.
The other big news is the arrival of Lily, the kitty, into my life. She's been with me for almost two weeks now. She's a pretty great kitten; we have a swell time together.
Work's work. I've been relatively busy there lately, which I guess is a good thing. I learned the English part of the client that also speaks French. Now that I've had about a week to get used to their procedure, I think they're adding the French part in around Friday or Monday. That should be fun. I'm getting eager to start using the French. I think it'll make things more interesting.
Today and tomorrow are my days off this week and I've given myself a special project. It's called: make my apartment look less like a dorm room. Sounds fun, huh? I got me a little budget set aside for some bookcases, slip covers etc, etc and we're gonna nip this thing in the butt, once and for all. My other special project is to get a mini-garden started here soon. Or at least to get the things I need to grow something. I'm thinking cherry tomatoes. Or peppers.
Next exciting thing in life is that tomorrow my beloved Hodes will be in town along with Hilary Clinton. Whee! By great luck I'm off and I get to go with him to watch her speak. Chris even made us t-shirts! Mine says, "Hoosier President? Hilary 08". I'm so clever...
At any rate. Special project calls... Must be scootin'...
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