I’ve been brainwashed (well, at least I’m pretty sure).
At some point in my life, unbeknownst to me, I learned stuff I did not even know I was learning (though I guess that is true for many things, but I am just realizing it now . . . yeah, no wise remarks, after all it was slow and steady that won the race, baby). I do not remember my parents (or any of my family for that matter) verbalizing any of this. I do not recollect discussing this with my friends. I know I did not learn this in school or at church. But somehow I know:
• That when I step out into the world, my actions do not only represent myself, but my family and (to some extent) all those who share my ethnicity;
• That just as my actions reflect on others, my family and other members of my ethnicity reflect on me and how I am perceived by the world; and
• That my ethnicity means Asian in general, and Japanese in particular.
When I look back, I know all this was somehow ingrained at a young age. It manifests itself in the following ways, which explains why:
• I cheer for the Asian person in most contests (Top Chef, etc.) Though I have also been known to cheer for the female (especially if it is in a male dominated field);
• I felt inordinately proud of Michael Chang when he won the French Open (and it’s not just because I have a crush on him that continues to this day…and no matter what you may have heard, I did not stalk him at the U.S. Open in 1999…);
• My heart fell(even more) when it was released that the Virginia Tech shooter was Asian, was slightly relieved that he was not Japanese, then went back down again wondering if people would even know the difference (which is shameful, I know. I’m not proud that these thoughts even crossed my mind.)
This indoctrination is very subtle; because in the ordinary course of my life, I do not feel the weight of my ancestors upon me. I do not feel the shame/disappointment/joy of my family. If my parents/siblings accomplish or excel in something, I do not feel the residual brightness fall upon my head. I do not think any thing I have done adds to anyone’s cache except my own (and to a smaller extent, perhaps to my parents).
I was born and raised in the United States. Raised in Christian church. I did not grow up hearing about ancestors or the “old” ways (except I knew my mom thought it was important to visit my grandparents’ graves. I just thought it was a respectful thing, but I see now it is also a cultural thing for her). I cheer for the U.S. during the Olympics, know next to nothing about Japan, can’t speak the language, don’t know the culture and am definitely more Euro-centric than Asian-centric in my thoughts and preferences (to this day my sister insists I should have been born into an Italian family; and there is some Italian family out there with some changeling that likes rice more than pasta, fish more than red meat and sushi more than antipasti).
The traces of these connections to my ethnicity and to group mores and ideals are faint, yet surprisingly tenacious. What on its surface looks almost wispily ethereal is anchored into a substantive foundation. And the reason why this came to the forefront of my thoughts? Because I read some guy’s blog.
He wrote about a particularly awkward and upsetting interaction with two men in Japan, seemingly yakuza types. Their exchange, which was written with humor, nonetheless embarrassed me because these men who acted so beyond the scope of appropriate behavior were Japanese. I do not know any of these people. Yet I felt responsible . . . so responsible that I actually apologized to this stranger (replied to his blog entry) about the behavior of two other strangers. That is not normal.
It’s surprising how deep-rooted these feelings of responsibility and ethnic representation are – that they do not even have to be articulated to take hold. Perhaps it is a secret government project using shame to control the masses: Japanese Mind Meld.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Engineers Rock My World
I love this video. These are my peeps! If I had any feel for numbers whatsoever, I probably would have become an engineer. I think I might be an engineer at heart (not by brain). Check this out:
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Dating Pursuits Part 2, Further Thought
After reading my last post, a female friend remarked that I had not addressed fear. Fear also seems to play a large part in why men do not take the initiative to ask a woman out. I can see that. We all fear rejection, ridicule, potential “public” humiliation (if you run in the same circles). We all have pride. Women get that. All of us have been rejected in some way, at some point in our lives…and it sucks.
Which brings me back to the point of my previous post. One way a man can communicate to a woman that he knows she is worthy to be chosen / pursued / whatever word you want to place here, is to overcome that fear and ask her out anyway. It tells her that he must feel it is worth getting rejected to have a chance with her. That’s a powerful step, which will (generally) cause her to reciprocate in kind. She will communicate to the man that she sees him as worthy / pursuable by being vulnerable and investing her time, energy, and feelings in him.
In fact, because women empathize with men regarding how difficult it is to ask someone out, we tend to accept behavior that we ordinarily would not. In intermediate school it would be the “head jerk.” Instead of asking a girl to dance, some guys would just go up to a girl and jerk his head toward the dance floor, turn around and walk to the dance floor. Even though I thought this was rude at the time (hello, they have mouths, can’t they verbalize?) no girl “rejected” that. She would follow him and when he turned around, she’d be there. We accept invitations so vaguely cobbled together that we’re unsure if we’re even been asked out, or so aggressive that the man comes across like a jerk that we know he is not, or so mumbled we can barely decipher what he is saying.
But this empathy can have a dark side that may lead to more miscommunication than spared feelings at some point.
What do I mean? If women do not want to go out with someone, we try to “let him down easy.” We know how much courage it takes; how it can make a person feel quite vulnerable and exposed. Especially if we already care about this person as a friend…we do not want to just shoot him down. So we end up making excuses like: (1) we’re too busy / not ready to date; (2) this isn’t a good time; (3) we are already seeing someone; (4) we already have plans for that evening; etc.
The problem is that these are legitimate excuses. So now the poor guy is in a quandary. He is left to wonder is this woman rejecting me but is trying to let me down easy (save my pride); or is it a legitimate reason, leaving the door open to future invitations?
Of course, I am speaking in generalities here…so here is something specific. I have done the “excuse” thing when I was younger. In my defense, it was the only way I knew how to be nice and say no at the time. (Saying no was a big deal in itself, as little girls are taught accommodating and saying “yes” to others are valued…but that’s fodder for a future post.) Frankly, I did not have the skills or the confidence to handle it any other way and I was too myopic to see how this could be confusing / frustrating for the guy. So, when a guy would vent his confusion / frustration, I would be at a loss thinking to myself, “Hey, I tried to be nice. Why are you being a jerk about it?” I would consult with my girlfriends who would be just as clueless as I and we would conclude that the guy was lashing out because of a dented ego.
Being older and somewhat wiser now, I can see how what I thought was a reasonable rationale at the time, really was unfair because of the inherent mixed message in my response. In college, I actually “made up” a boyfriend to get a guy to stop bothering me. (He was the type to ask out everyone. It’s just because I turned him down that he became more interested, it’s not that he was so into me.) I asked a friend attending a mainland college to pretend to be my boyfriend. And we wonder why men and women have trouble communicating?
Anyway, now I would handle it much differently. I would be honest and straightforward and nice. These things are not mutually exclusive; I believe they can work in harmony. I would say something like, “Thanks for asking. I am so flattered you would think of me, but no thank you.” I would say it sincerely and look him in the eye and make sure he understood that I thought it totally rocked and I am genuinely flattered that he asked, but it’s not going to happen. Very few guys would push for more of a “reason” after that.
That would work for guys who are asked out by women, too. No lying, prevarication or confusion. Just no thank you.
Let’s keep the lines of communication open, honest and flowing among men and women. If we keep maturing, learning and talking, who knows what may happen? Dare I say it…possibly…understanding?
Which brings me back to the point of my previous post. One way a man can communicate to a woman that he knows she is worthy to be chosen / pursued / whatever word you want to place here, is to overcome that fear and ask her out anyway. It tells her that he must feel it is worth getting rejected to have a chance with her. That’s a powerful step, which will (generally) cause her to reciprocate in kind. She will communicate to the man that she sees him as worthy / pursuable by being vulnerable and investing her time, energy, and feelings in him.
In fact, because women empathize with men regarding how difficult it is to ask someone out, we tend to accept behavior that we ordinarily would not. In intermediate school it would be the “head jerk.” Instead of asking a girl to dance, some guys would just go up to a girl and jerk his head toward the dance floor, turn around and walk to the dance floor. Even though I thought this was rude at the time (hello, they have mouths, can’t they verbalize?) no girl “rejected” that. She would follow him and when he turned around, she’d be there. We accept invitations so vaguely cobbled together that we’re unsure if we’re even been asked out, or so aggressive that the man comes across like a jerk that we know he is not, or so mumbled we can barely decipher what he is saying.
But this empathy can have a dark side that may lead to more miscommunication than spared feelings at some point.
What do I mean? If women do not want to go out with someone, we try to “let him down easy.” We know how much courage it takes; how it can make a person feel quite vulnerable and exposed. Especially if we already care about this person as a friend…we do not want to just shoot him down. So we end up making excuses like: (1) we’re too busy / not ready to date; (2) this isn’t a good time; (3) we are already seeing someone; (4) we already have plans for that evening; etc.
The problem is that these are legitimate excuses. So now the poor guy is in a quandary. He is left to wonder is this woman rejecting me but is trying to let me down easy (save my pride); or is it a legitimate reason, leaving the door open to future invitations?
Of course, I am speaking in generalities here…so here is something specific. I have done the “excuse” thing when I was younger. In my defense, it was the only way I knew how to be nice and say no at the time. (Saying no was a big deal in itself, as little girls are taught accommodating and saying “yes” to others are valued…but that’s fodder for a future post.) Frankly, I did not have the skills or the confidence to handle it any other way and I was too myopic to see how this could be confusing / frustrating for the guy. So, when a guy would vent his confusion / frustration, I would be at a loss thinking to myself, “Hey, I tried to be nice. Why are you being a jerk about it?” I would consult with my girlfriends who would be just as clueless as I and we would conclude that the guy was lashing out because of a dented ego.
Being older and somewhat wiser now, I can see how what I thought was a reasonable rationale at the time, really was unfair because of the inherent mixed message in my response. In college, I actually “made up” a boyfriend to get a guy to stop bothering me. (He was the type to ask out everyone. It’s just because I turned him down that he became more interested, it’s not that he was so into me.) I asked a friend attending a mainland college to pretend to be my boyfriend. And we wonder why men and women have trouble communicating?
Anyway, now I would handle it much differently. I would be honest and straightforward and nice. These things are not mutually exclusive; I believe they can work in harmony. I would say something like, “Thanks for asking. I am so flattered you would think of me, but no thank you.” I would say it sincerely and look him in the eye and make sure he understood that I thought it totally rocked and I am genuinely flattered that he asked, but it’s not going to happen. Very few guys would push for more of a “reason” after that.
That would work for guys who are asked out by women, too. No lying, prevarication or confusion. Just no thank you.
Let’s keep the lines of communication open, honest and flowing among men and women. If we keep maturing, learning and talking, who knows what may happen? Dare I say it…possibly…understanding?
Monday, April 14, 2008
Dating Pursuits, Female Perspective
In response to a conversation within his church body, a friend of a friend recently posted some thoughts about dating and relationships. Can I be more obscure? (My homage to Chandler). Anyway, it got me thinking about how men and women communicate (or fail to communicate, as the case may be). It all seemed to start from a joke that led to a female’s lament regarding males (Christian males in particular) not asking out rockin’ Christian females (her as an example).
At this point, I wish to pause in these proceedings to apologize for my…inelegance…in expressing my views regarding this topic. I swear, it would be better if we were actually having a conversation, but as it is…I am probably the only one reading this, so who cares?
This is not an anti-male/male-bashing post. On the contrary, I found the church discussion compelling, honest and much needed. There are so many resources dedicated to post-marriage relationships (i.e., how to keep your marriage alive), but not much about dating in the church (whether or not it leads to marriage, because where is it written that every single person wants marriage? Marriage is not always the endgame. I mean, many people are single by choice. It’s easy to hookup if you have no standards and just want to be in a “relationship,” just look at Jerry Springer and shows of that ilk…oops, sorry. Mini rant.) Anyway, it is like the church expects married couples to just pop up without having gone through the single/dating process. (Disclaimer, I know I am lumping all of Christendom together, which may not be fair, but I generalize to make the point that this is a neglected area in the church).
Ok, no more tangents for disclaimers or further explanations. Just assume I am coming from a good place, okay? Like those great episodes of Eli Stone say, “sometimes you just have to take things on faith.”
The male response to her lament seemed to be saying that they do not ask women out for one/some/all of the following reasons:
1. They were (not) taught what a healthy relationship should look like in their formative years (no one to model or teach that to them);
Response: Read, look around you now, seek guidance from spiritually grounded married men.
2. Insecurity (often based on some prior personal experience, or an experience of someone he knows);
Response: Put past experiences into perspective, pray, carry on/get over it
3. Happy with their non-dating, single state;
Response: Nothing. That’s awesome!
4. Only wants to date a person he thinks he may want to marry (rather than dating for “fun”);
Response: How are you ever going to know what you really want if you do not get some dating experience? Many times what one thinks one wants and what one discovers what one really needs are two different things.
5. They do not want to potentially ruin a great friendship if things do not work out romantically; and
Response: One of those risk vs. reward / balance sheet issues. If you are both of the same mindset, why not explore a deeper relationship? Nothing ventured, nothing gained…
6. They do not understand their role as “males” in that they have been given conflicting messages by women/society/media: (don’t) be macho, (don’t) be sensitive, (don’t) let your emotions show, (don’t) talk more about your feelings, etc.
Response: While I feel your pain, (most) women have somehow managed to meld traditional “male” and “female” traits successfully, why can’t men?
I am sure this is not a comprehensive list, but hopefully it is a good beginning. Many times these guys would appreciate it if the woman would make the first move. And that is fine. In fact, many couples I know were instigated by the female. I think this was part of what the original poster was lamenting about.
Women want to feel wanted. (I know men want to feel wanted, too…ah, wait, I said I was not going to get bogged down in disclaimers/explanations…grrr…). We want the man to make a conscious decision that he wants that particular female. We want him to choose, not to fall.
Let me explain. A lot of guys I know “fall” into their relationships. Either out of convenience or things just kinda worked out that way. Examples: everyone else in the group was hooking up, and there were just the two of them left, so he gets together with the last single girl. Or she is the one he doesn’t think will reject him, rather than she is the one he wants to be with. Or she was pursing him, so it was just a matter of giving in. Or they hung out together so much as friends, they unconsciously became a couple.
In any case, the male barely expends any serious effort. Of course, it takes effort to keep a relationship going and sometimes the female doesn’t expend any effort either and there are two sides (ack! I’m doing it again. Frankly I think it is inherent when one talks about this type of topic, one feels like one is walking on eggshells or in a minefield…oh! Or like diffusing a bomb. Heh.) Let’s try again…
In any case, the male barely expends any serious effort. Women want to feel chosen. Special. We do not want to feel like if any warm female body had been there, then said male would have been just as happy hooking up with that woman instead. Maybe it is because people generally treasure things (and relationships) that they had to work for. That they invested themselves in. That they had to sacrifice for. (I hate writing sentences that end with prepositions!) That some time and effort was expended into choosing and winning her…not like a prize or chattel, but that a relationship with her is worth fighting through your insecurities and battling past any other obstacles put in your path.
Don’t men want the same thing? To know the woman chose him specifically? Well, women tell men that kind of stuff. Women (in general) are more verbal and more willing to verbalize their emotions than men. How do men let women know? Through their actions. Which is why women want to be pursued. Not for the sake of being pursued, but because of what the pursuit represents: a conscious decision that this man wants a relationship with this woman because of who and what she is and can become.
Just don’t be all obnoxious about it.
(SweetlyDemure pauses for male groans and shouts of disapproval to die and for eyes to stop rolling).
Seriously, you can choose and pursue in a non-obnoxious way. In this circumstance, I do feel bad for guys, because you are taught to pursue and overcome and not let anything get in the way of what you want. Yet you are also told to respect women’s wishes and that being told, “no” once should sufficient. If you are unable to integrate both, then go with the latter. A woman’s refusal should be the end. If she is playing games with you, then I say it is her loss. Move on to someone who is not into that kind of game playing or at least is more self-aware. Trust me, we’re out there!
At this point, I wish to pause in these proceedings to apologize for my…inelegance…in expressing my views regarding this topic. I swear, it would be better if we were actually having a conversation, but as it is…I am probably the only one reading this, so who cares?
This is not an anti-male/male-bashing post. On the contrary, I found the church discussion compelling, honest and much needed. There are so many resources dedicated to post-marriage relationships (i.e., how to keep your marriage alive), but not much about dating in the church (whether or not it leads to marriage, because where is it written that every single person wants marriage? Marriage is not always the endgame. I mean, many people are single by choice. It’s easy to hookup if you have no standards and just want to be in a “relationship,” just look at Jerry Springer and shows of that ilk…oops, sorry. Mini rant.) Anyway, it is like the church expects married couples to just pop up without having gone through the single/dating process. (Disclaimer, I know I am lumping all of Christendom together, which may not be fair, but I generalize to make the point that this is a neglected area in the church).
Ok, no more tangents for disclaimers or further explanations. Just assume I am coming from a good place, okay? Like those great episodes of Eli Stone say, “sometimes you just have to take things on faith.”
The male response to her lament seemed to be saying that they do not ask women out for one/some/all of the following reasons:
1. They were (not) taught what a healthy relationship should look like in their formative years (no one to model or teach that to them);
Response: Read, look around you now, seek guidance from spiritually grounded married men.
2. Insecurity (often based on some prior personal experience, or an experience of someone he knows);
Response: Put past experiences into perspective, pray, carry on/get over it
3. Happy with their non-dating, single state;
Response: Nothing. That’s awesome!
4. Only wants to date a person he thinks he may want to marry (rather than dating for “fun”);
Response: How are you ever going to know what you really want if you do not get some dating experience? Many times what one thinks one wants and what one discovers what one really needs are two different things.
5. They do not want to potentially ruin a great friendship if things do not work out romantically; and
Response: One of those risk vs. reward / balance sheet issues. If you are both of the same mindset, why not explore a deeper relationship? Nothing ventured, nothing gained…
6. They do not understand their role as “males” in that they have been given conflicting messages by women/society/media: (don’t) be macho, (don’t) be sensitive, (don’t) let your emotions show, (don’t) talk more about your feelings, etc.
Response: While I feel your pain, (most) women have somehow managed to meld traditional “male” and “female” traits successfully, why can’t men?
I am sure this is not a comprehensive list, but hopefully it is a good beginning. Many times these guys would appreciate it if the woman would make the first move. And that is fine. In fact, many couples I know were instigated by the female. I think this was part of what the original poster was lamenting about.
Women want to feel wanted. (I know men want to feel wanted, too…ah, wait, I said I was not going to get bogged down in disclaimers/explanations…grrr…). We want the man to make a conscious decision that he wants that particular female. We want him to choose, not to fall.
Let me explain. A lot of guys I know “fall” into their relationships. Either out of convenience or things just kinda worked out that way. Examples: everyone else in the group was hooking up, and there were just the two of them left, so he gets together with the last single girl. Or she is the one he doesn’t think will reject him, rather than she is the one he wants to be with. Or she was pursing him, so it was just a matter of giving in. Or they hung out together so much as friends, they unconsciously became a couple.
In any case, the male barely expends any serious effort. Of course, it takes effort to keep a relationship going and sometimes the female doesn’t expend any effort either and there are two sides (ack! I’m doing it again. Frankly I think it is inherent when one talks about this type of topic, one feels like one is walking on eggshells or in a minefield…oh! Or like diffusing a bomb. Heh.) Let’s try again…
In any case, the male barely expends any serious effort. Women want to feel chosen. Special. We do not want to feel like if any warm female body had been there, then said male would have been just as happy hooking up with that woman instead. Maybe it is because people generally treasure things (and relationships) that they had to work for. That they invested themselves in. That they had to sacrifice for. (I hate writing sentences that end with prepositions!) That some time and effort was expended into choosing and winning her…not like a prize or chattel, but that a relationship with her is worth fighting through your insecurities and battling past any other obstacles put in your path.
Don’t men want the same thing? To know the woman chose him specifically? Well, women tell men that kind of stuff. Women (in general) are more verbal and more willing to verbalize their emotions than men. How do men let women know? Through their actions. Which is why women want to be pursued. Not for the sake of being pursued, but because of what the pursuit represents: a conscious decision that this man wants a relationship with this woman because of who and what she is and can become.
Just don’t be all obnoxious about it.
(SweetlyDemure pauses for male groans and shouts of disapproval to die and for eyes to stop rolling).
Seriously, you can choose and pursue in a non-obnoxious way. In this circumstance, I do feel bad for guys, because you are taught to pursue and overcome and not let anything get in the way of what you want. Yet you are also told to respect women’s wishes and that being told, “no” once should sufficient. If you are unable to integrate both, then go with the latter. A woman’s refusal should be the end. If she is playing games with you, then I say it is her loss. Move on to someone who is not into that kind of game playing or at least is more self-aware. Trust me, we’re out there!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Gifted Child
I am gifted.
No, wait. Let me be accurate.
I am extremely gifted.
Ahh…that’s better. I know it sounds like I am bragging…self-aggrandizing…hello, how does your head fit through normal-sized doors? But I’m not. Being gifted has very little to do with the person upon whom the gift is bestowed, but rather says more about the One giving the gift.
A true gift, in its purest sense, is given freely and without expectation of any return. Now some may expect various degrees of gratitude; others may expect reciprocation at a later date and still others may do it for acknowledgement by others or because it makes them feel good (Notice what a great person I am; I am so generous!) But it seems to me that when one is “gifting” another, those types of motives should not be present (insert rim shot here).
Let me list some of my many gifts:
· Born in the United States (I may have issues, but that is because I do love my country and want it to live up to its ideals).
· Born into a (loving for the most part!) middle class family (great childhood).
· Had opportunities to and received a quality education.
· Am free of student loans thanks to parents helping to fund the aforementioned education, which gives me the freedom to choose jobs that may not be financially lucrative, but are fulfilling and meaningful to me.
· Opportunities to travel the U.S. and the world and experience different peoples and cultures.
· Grew up in a church family where it was okay to make mistakes and try new things (they’d love you anyway) and stepping out in faith was encouraged.
· Enough discretionary income to indulge in things I love like eating out, going to movies, museums, concerts and the like.
And baby, that’s just the beginning. Already it’s an embarrassment of riches.
Yet, I like to complain…lament. (Luckily God still loves whiners). It just feels so good – cathartic, even. But like Los Angeles, it’s a good place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there (no offense to Los Angelians…but seriously, wouldn’t you rather live in the Bay Area?) Anyway, it is good to remind myself just how gifted I am. Akin to counting my blessings, I guess. But more than just counting good stuff, it’s my recognition of just how much (or rather how little) I had to do with all of this.
And if it ended there, well, hopefully at the very least I would walk around with a better attitude and perspective, but that is not enough. Those of us lucky enough to be extremely gifted generally have the resources and wherewithal to share with others. I think that is why I connected with Hillary Clinton when during a debate she spoke about being blessed and given so much that she is compelled to give back. It did not come across as a feeling of largesse (which to me connotes pompously congratulating oneself for doling out crumbs to others at one’s whim) or even noblesse oblige (connoting duty or requirement). It came across as an excitement to share.
It reminds me of a story a conference speaker told about working with Mother Theresa in Calcutta. It was the birthday of a young boy whom the speaker had befriended. Since it was wicked hot (all of a sudden I’m from Boston?) and the area was so poverty stricken, the speaker opted to buy this boy an ice cream cone in celebration. He said the boy’s eyes grew huge, and he immediately yelled, “We got ice cream!” Then the boy lined up his friends and excitedly announced, “Everybody gets a lick!” And everyone did.
That kind of innocent joy instinctively shared is what I’m talking about. You don’t think about how so-and-so never gave you candy when he or she had some…or that now there is less ice cream for you…or any of that stuff. He had an awesome gift and he was going to share it with others.
Why can’t I be more like that?
“Everybody, we got ice cream!”
No, wait. Let me be accurate.
I am extremely gifted.
Ahh…that’s better. I know it sounds like I am bragging…self-aggrandizing…hello, how does your head fit through normal-sized doors? But I’m not. Being gifted has very little to do with the person upon whom the gift is bestowed, but rather says more about the One giving the gift.
A true gift, in its purest sense, is given freely and without expectation of any return. Now some may expect various degrees of gratitude; others may expect reciprocation at a later date and still others may do it for acknowledgement by others or because it makes them feel good (Notice what a great person I am; I am so generous!) But it seems to me that when one is “gifting” another, those types of motives should not be present (insert rim shot here).
Let me list some of my many gifts:
· Born in the United States (I may have issues, but that is because I do love my country and want it to live up to its ideals).
· Born into a (loving for the most part!) middle class family (great childhood).
· Had opportunities to and received a quality education.
· Am free of student loans thanks to parents helping to fund the aforementioned education, which gives me the freedom to choose jobs that may not be financially lucrative, but are fulfilling and meaningful to me.
· Opportunities to travel the U.S. and the world and experience different peoples and cultures.
· Grew up in a church family where it was okay to make mistakes and try new things (they’d love you anyway) and stepping out in faith was encouraged.
· Enough discretionary income to indulge in things I love like eating out, going to movies, museums, concerts and the like.
And baby, that’s just the beginning. Already it’s an embarrassment of riches.
Yet, I like to complain…lament. (Luckily God still loves whiners). It just feels so good – cathartic, even. But like Los Angeles, it’s a good place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there (no offense to Los Angelians…but seriously, wouldn’t you rather live in the Bay Area?) Anyway, it is good to remind myself just how gifted I am. Akin to counting my blessings, I guess. But more than just counting good stuff, it’s my recognition of just how much (or rather how little) I had to do with all of this.
And if it ended there, well, hopefully at the very least I would walk around with a better attitude and perspective, but that is not enough. Those of us lucky enough to be extremely gifted generally have the resources and wherewithal to share with others. I think that is why I connected with Hillary Clinton when during a debate she spoke about being blessed and given so much that she is compelled to give back. It did not come across as a feeling of largesse (which to me connotes pompously congratulating oneself for doling out crumbs to others at one’s whim) or even noblesse oblige (connoting duty or requirement). It came across as an excitement to share.
It reminds me of a story a conference speaker told about working with Mother Theresa in Calcutta. It was the birthday of a young boy whom the speaker had befriended. Since it was wicked hot (all of a sudden I’m from Boston?) and the area was so poverty stricken, the speaker opted to buy this boy an ice cream cone in celebration. He said the boy’s eyes grew huge, and he immediately yelled, “We got ice cream!” Then the boy lined up his friends and excitedly announced, “Everybody gets a lick!” And everyone did.
That kind of innocent joy instinctively shared is what I’m talking about. You don’t think about how so-and-so never gave you candy when he or she had some…or that now there is less ice cream for you…or any of that stuff. He had an awesome gift and he was going to share it with others.
Why can’t I be more like that?
“Everybody, we got ice cream!”
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Dead Woman Walking
The other night I met a friend for dinner after work. After a nice meal and even better conversation, she had to go to a meeting, so we ended up going our separate ways. As my previous post indicates, I no longer drive to work…I catch the bus. So, after dinner I began walking leisurely to the nearest bus stop. It was about 6:30 p.m. so the sun was going down, but there was still a lot of light and the tradewinds were keeping things mellow and comfortable (love those tradewinds!)
So, (I tell myself), “Why don’t I walk until I get tired? I’ll get some exercise and then I’ll just jump on the bus the rest of the way.” Such a bright idea.
I start strolling…I even work my way up to a saunter at one point.
The first few blocks are fine. The wind is blowing, my feet are shuffling along. I look at the stores in passing. But then the inevitable happens.
First, my feet start hurting. Darn sandal top strip is rubbing roughly against the tops of my tender feet. Once I take notice of that, I perceive that the balls of my feet are also beginning to hurt. The left side feels like it is developing a blister; and the right side feels like a blister already burst; and the bottom of my foot is rubbing unrelentingly against sandpaper (aka my sandal).
I begin to think this was not such a great idea after all. Before starting an endeavor like this, I should have better footwear. My sandals are flats (I would twist my ankle if I wore heels…yes, I am that uncoordinated), but they do not provide any support for my arches and my feet in general. The straps keep rubbing, rubbing against my poor feet.
Next, I notice that my hip starts hurting. My left hip, especially. What am I, 80? (No offense to octogenarians…you all are probably in much better physical shape than I am.) I begin to think that my body is out of alignment. Perhaps I should consult a chiropractor. I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my legs is shorter than the other. This would cause my hips to be misaligned, right? Maybe if I fix my legs and hips, I’ll be more comfortable walking longer distances. That would be cool.
By this time, I have passed several bus stops. Several busses have passed by me. Something inside me compels me to go on despite how uncomfortable I’m feeling. My brain says, “You’re actually not that far from home. Just keep going.” Stupid brain. Doesn’t listen to my body.
Then I notice that the muscles in my calves feel like they are getting unnaturally tight. Pulling, pulling and my knees are feeling achy. I begin to ponder at what point do rubber bands snap and are my calf muscles like rubber bands? Ooh, and my Achilles feels really tight, too. How can I stretch it out without looking like a total weirdo while I’m walking down the street? Or can I just suffer thorough it?
Now my shoulders are aching (I’m carrying my work bag). I think it all goes back to one leg perhaps being longer than the other. Now I am totally misaligned. The wind continues to blow, but the sun has set along with its warmth and I begin to notice how cold it has become. I begin to hunch a little to take pressure off my shoulder and ward off a bit of the wind. I am walking even slower as all my aches and pains get incrementally achier and painier.
Now, my lower back begins to hurt. I am walking (if one can still recognize my plowing forward as “walking” at this point). By now my brain says it is silly to catch the bus because home is so close. Stupid, stupid brain. People with walkers are moving faster than I am, and while I notice, I don’t care.
Finally, I reach my building, a battered mess. I kick off the wretched sandals and see the angry red strips across my feet. I collapse on my couch taking inventory of my muscles and joints. Everyone is present and accounted for although they are either sore, cramping, agitated, cold, achy or any combination thereof.
Note to self: listen to body over brain. Brain is an idiot. Body is smart. Out of shape, but smart.
So, (I tell myself), “Why don’t I walk until I get tired? I’ll get some exercise and then I’ll just jump on the bus the rest of the way.” Such a bright idea.
I start strolling…I even work my way up to a saunter at one point.
The first few blocks are fine. The wind is blowing, my feet are shuffling along. I look at the stores in passing. But then the inevitable happens.
First, my feet start hurting. Darn sandal top strip is rubbing roughly against the tops of my tender feet. Once I take notice of that, I perceive that the balls of my feet are also beginning to hurt. The left side feels like it is developing a blister; and the right side feels like a blister already burst; and the bottom of my foot is rubbing unrelentingly against sandpaper (aka my sandal).
I begin to think this was not such a great idea after all. Before starting an endeavor like this, I should have better footwear. My sandals are flats (I would twist my ankle if I wore heels…yes, I am that uncoordinated), but they do not provide any support for my arches and my feet in general. The straps keep rubbing, rubbing against my poor feet.
Next, I notice that my hip starts hurting. My left hip, especially. What am I, 80? (No offense to octogenarians…you all are probably in much better physical shape than I am.) I begin to think that my body is out of alignment. Perhaps I should consult a chiropractor. I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my legs is shorter than the other. This would cause my hips to be misaligned, right? Maybe if I fix my legs and hips, I’ll be more comfortable walking longer distances. That would be cool.
By this time, I have passed several bus stops. Several busses have passed by me. Something inside me compels me to go on despite how uncomfortable I’m feeling. My brain says, “You’re actually not that far from home. Just keep going.” Stupid brain. Doesn’t listen to my body.
Then I notice that the muscles in my calves feel like they are getting unnaturally tight. Pulling, pulling and my knees are feeling achy. I begin to ponder at what point do rubber bands snap and are my calf muscles like rubber bands? Ooh, and my Achilles feels really tight, too. How can I stretch it out without looking like a total weirdo while I’m walking down the street? Or can I just suffer thorough it?
Now my shoulders are aching (I’m carrying my work bag). I think it all goes back to one leg perhaps being longer than the other. Now I am totally misaligned. The wind continues to blow, but the sun has set along with its warmth and I begin to notice how cold it has become. I begin to hunch a little to take pressure off my shoulder and ward off a bit of the wind. I am walking even slower as all my aches and pains get incrementally achier and painier.
Now, my lower back begins to hurt. I am walking (if one can still recognize my plowing forward as “walking” at this point). By now my brain says it is silly to catch the bus because home is so close. Stupid, stupid brain. People with walkers are moving faster than I am, and while I notice, I don’t care.
Finally, I reach my building, a battered mess. I kick off the wretched sandals and see the angry red strips across my feet. I collapse on my couch taking inventory of my muscles and joints. Everyone is present and accounted for although they are either sore, cramping, agitated, cold, achy or any combination thereof.
Note to self: listen to body over brain. Brain is an idiot. Body is smart. Out of shape, but smart.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
(Public) Travelin' Woes
I have been riding the bus to and from work for about 8 months now – ever since I changed jobs and my new position does not come with parking.
Reasons I hate riding the bus:
1. I do not like to wait; and I end up waiting a lot for the bus.
a. I seem to wait a lot longer on Mondays, although I have waited a long time on other days, too. My theory is that people call in sick more often on Mondays, so they do not have enough drivers to cover all the routes.
2. Which leads me to the second reason I hate riding the bus: they never follow the posted schedule, so I never know what time they’re coming. I try to plan it so I won’t have to wait, but alas, ‘tis not to be (apparently).
a. Sometimes if I leave my apartment at 6:45 a.m., there will be two or three busses before 7:00 a.m. Sometimes there are no busses during that time. It’s so frustrating. I could have slept for 15 more minutes!
3. The unusual and unpleasant smells (Hello people! Ever hear of using deodorant or not using so much cologne/perfume?)
a. Body odor: The considerate bus rider will wear deodorant, especially when riding the bus home after working all day. Sometimes when I’m sitting down, they’re standing above me holding the top rail…let’s just say I’ve learned the art of shallow breathing. The worst is when you cannot tell where the smell is coming from…just that it’s close. No matter which way you turn your head, there it is!
b. Cologne/Perfume: a little is okay; however, if a noxious puce cloud follows in your wake, you should not be in an enclosed area with a bunch of other people.
c. Other yucky smells: I’ve smelled urine on the bus. Made me worried about where I was sitting.
4. Bus drivers. Don’t get me wrong, most bus drivers are very good and will kindly wait while I run/walk to the bus so I don’t look like a complete idiot running after a bus that’s driving away. But some:
a. Drive really rough. So cavalierly that I’m bouncing, trying to stay in my seat or standing while teetering dangerously and desperately trying to hold on to a pole.
b. Have no concept of rain. Some bus drivers will just rip down the street, splashing enormous amounts of water on whomever may be on the sidewalk. Or, when the passenger gets off the bus, the driver will tear away, thus splashing the recently disembarked people.
5. Communicable Diseases. Not just others, I mean me, too. I got sick and had this cough that would not die. I hated standing over people and coughing all over them. I could imagine my cough spraying an invisible infectious mist over the poor passengers sitting below. Yuck. Or when someone behind you is coughing and sneezing and it feels like it’s all going right into my hair. Bleh.
a. Plus, when one rides the bus, one does not know if one is touching or sitting on something disgusting. For example, did the person who last held this pole wash his/her hands after using the bathroom and before getting on the bus? Inquiring minds want to know.
6. The weirdness. Now, some weirdness is entertaining and some are easily ignored, but some weirdness is well, weird. Disturbing, even.
a. For several mornings, there was this guy on the bus, sitting somewhere in the back cussing up a storm. I am not sure to whom he was speaking (himself, the other passengers, the voices in his head), but he sounded mad. He hissed out the swear words, so they were not really loud, which made it creepier in a way.
b. Once these two guys seemed to be acquainted. One got off the bus and words were exchanged. Soon, the other one got off the bus and they started throwing punches. They banged into the side of the bus while they were fighting and before the bus could drive away. It was kind of scary, even though it happened outside the bus.
7. The rudeness. Most bus riders are not rude. Some are clueless or don’t pay attention to their surroundings, but I seldom see any overt rudeness.
a. Some times people do not let the older riders sit. That kind of irritates me. They may be sleeping, talking to others, or just in their iPod world, but when a little old lady is struggling to hold on to the pole and her packages in front of you, offer her your seat!
b. Kids are loud. They shout, they talk on their cell phones and bang you with their book bags. (Do I sound like a crotchety old woman or what?)
c. People who refuse to move to the back of the bus even if they are causing severe sardine issues for those in the front.
d. People who block the door and are clueless when you are trying to exit.
8. Inconvenience/Lack of Freedom. It is difficult to run errands (groceries, library, bank, drop off or pick up things, etc.) on the way home or meet friends somewhere after work if one rides the bus. Not impossible, but inconvenient. Definitely less viable options. Especially when one is as lazy as I am.
9. Strangers falling asleep on you. Oh wait, that was me. My apologies to the guy I was sitting next to yesterday morning. I was just sooooo tired! I really did try to stay awake and/or upright. I was so embarrassed I did not even look at him, even as I got off at my stop.
Reasons I feel guilty for hating to ride the bus:
1. I care about our environment. I want to be a good steward of what God has provided. I should be embracing my foray into public transportation rather than hating it so much.
a. I want to tread lightly (i.e., not leave a huge, deep carbon footprint). But with the cost of oil and the fact that if I did drive to work every day, I would not be carpooling with anyone (and I am likely to be running my air conditioner), it is not exactly energy savings / low emissions time.
2. I am part of the proletariat not the bourgeoisie. Hating to ride the bus seems to distance me from my proletariat roots and makes me more bourgeois than I envision myself. Transportation of the people, by the people and for the people!
3. I am an advocate for public transportation. Our community cannot continue to sustain these lone car drivers. Plus, parking is generally a pain and one does not need to worry about it if one rides the bus. Basically, I am a hypocrite…which, by the way, is not something I want to be (e.g., Public transportation is good and necessary…for other people. As for me, I will drive my car). Bleh!
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