Today I went for a walk. I didnt walk on the path. I had no traceable route. I just walked. I didnt have my phone. I didnt even walk beside the path. I made my own. At one point I walked straight through a baseball field. I even crossed the street not at a crosswalk. Scandalous. I know.
This may not seem like a big deal. But for me, it was. For many reasons:
1. I was walking. Which, if you think about it, is a form of exercise. Which I don't usually do. But it is the 2nd time this week. Maybe we are on to something here...
2.) I went off the path. I have firmly held for a long time that paths are made for a reason. The distance is measured, so even if I dont know how far I walked who ever built the sidewalk would know. They would have it all measured and direct. But walking on my own path there was no distance measured. I could have walked 5 miles. Or maybe 1/4 mile. Who knows?! This is frightening and it happened.
C. No traceable route. I could have been murdered. I had no route. I didnt tell anyone I was going. I didnt take my phone. I was free from it all. Just me. (And the key to my apartment tied to my shirt, securely hidden.- well Im not a idiot!) More than a few times did the thought cross my mind that I could be kidnapped. But that was all part of the excitement.
d- I walked across a baseball field. This has always been a big no no. walk around, not through as to not mess up the field. I have respect for a good baseball field. Mind you the one I walked through wasn't nice, but conceptually it was wrong.
5. Jay walking?! Isn't that against the law? need I say more?
I have known for a long time now that I am, in fact, a little bit of a control freak. I rarely ride in the passenger seat, as I like to drive. I follow the rules, I'm hardly even ever rude to people. And if I think I am I apologize before they even know I was rude. I calculate risk in everything I do. I don't dream to big unless I put the dream in a realistic time frame from the start. I may be planning a big nice vacation, but I know it wont happen until 2016- if we save on schedule.
I make lists in my sleep. For everything. To be organized. And it still bothering me that I tried to go against myself and number the list above funky. I don't like it. But now I wrote about it, so I'll keep it. It now has a reason for being that way.
I met someone a while back. And the more I get to know this person, the more I realize how different we are. A recent conversation went like this:
friend "Hey. What are you up to today?"
Me "Oh, not much. Grocery shopping. Home. Dinner. What are you up to?"
friend "Not sure. Im thinking I'll go see a friend. Maybe get a tatoo. We'll see."
Me "A tatoo? Really? How fun! Of what? Where?"
friend "Not sure yet. I have a few ideas, but we'll see."
ok. wait.
Did you catch that? Maybe get a tatoo. Not sure of what. or where?! I have been thinking about getting a tatoo for over 10 years now and havent... for many reasons. (I can provide a list of reasons if you'd like.)
And this friend is just gunna go. Just waltz into a parlor close their eyes point to a body part and say what they'd like a tatoo of. (ok, maybe that was a bit dramatic.)
But it got me to thinking. I would really like to be more sporadic. More of a jumper than a calculated risk taker.
So today I did. I went for a walk. Craziness ensued.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Bookends
There are times in life that really make me think. Times where everything stands still and I am lost in the moment. I can usually count on these times happening at big occasions. Like weddings, when someone dies and in those few times I have seen a baby be born.
Always at the start of something new. The opening of a new chapter in life. Or the end of one. The bookends.
The bookends are important. They are the focal point in a glance. The way we judge books by their cover. If someone is born into an abusive family, mom is on coke, dad is deadbeat- then it is easy to view the life with sadness. Doom the life from the start. The bookends are bad, so the book must be. Where if someone is born into a right standing home, both parents are happy church goin folk- what a celebration of life! This child is destined to be great. Beautiful bookends.
But what about the stuff written on the page? The ups and downs the twists and turns the exciting parts. What about the stories that tug at your heart and wish you could solve all the problems?
There are times in our life when we have big choices to make. What we do in those moments how we handle ourselves is what shows our character, builds our character. Our choices show who we really are. Even if it is something we got ourselves into, there is a moment in time where we have to make a choice.
There was a time in my life where I was seeing a man who I really liked. He made me smile so much. We would make each other laugh. We could talk for hours. I learned so much from him. He learned a lot from me. We would go to lunch- and we never had enough time cause we were so lost in getting to know each other. He was older than me *cough*twicemyage*cough* but it was ok. I fell for him. Even though I knew it would never work. I enjoyed the mystery. The adventure. I even became good friends with his wife.
Donald Miller has a book on the elements of story. It is a really good book called "A million miles in a thousand years" In the book he talks about how we have to make things happen. We cant expect our life to be full of adventure and have great stories to tell when we are old if all we do is sit in front of the TV. We cant wait for our story to happen. If we want a good story then it requires an aspect of risk. It requires us to own up to the hard truths about our daily lives and make the difference.
Kind of makes me want to quit my job and move to Africa. Or New York. Scratch that- I would really rather not live in NY.
We have to make our story.
Im not good at being super transparent. Which is a good thing if you want to protect yourself and a bad thing if you want anyone to know the real you.
For example- the story of the man above. Raise your hand if you knew that? Very few. I dont know who reads that but you may still be in shock that it happened- or better yet, that I posted it on the interwebs.
Anyway.
I am a planner. I like to make to-do lists and do them, in order. I like to figure out how a person works and operates and then associate with them in a way where there are no surprises. I like to be in control. [this is not a good thing] So when things happen, when life happens and I am not in control. When I didnt plan far enough in advance. I freak out a little.
I shut down. I get introspective and wonder at what I am supposed to do. I try frantically to make a plan. My brain races. I get lost in myself trying to figure out the next game plan. I try to see the bookends. I try to figure out what the last chapter says so that I can get the story back on track. I blog to find out what I am thinking.
Right now I am at a loss. Here are the facts in list form:
Death in the family
Separation from family
New home
New friends [how to relate? how to get to know them?... more on this later]
work - what am I doing?
the list goes on, but I just got scared that someone might actually read this so I stopped.
Sigh. When there is so much going on in my head and heart how do I organize the information in a safe way?
I want to get it all out and then look at it and only pick up the good pieces. But its all apart of me so there is nothing I can really give up.
I am looking at the bookends of my life and sizing it up. My story may have to over compensate for the bookends.
How do I make the story good? How do I make it interesting?
And there, there is my fatal flaw. I really do live as though I am the one writting it. I think I can make it all well. Figure out the last chapter but I cant.
I just hope that I dont ruin too many other stories in trying to figure out my own.
Always at the start of something new. The opening of a new chapter in life. Or the end of one. The bookends.
The bookends are important. They are the focal point in a glance. The way we judge books by their cover. If someone is born into an abusive family, mom is on coke, dad is deadbeat- then it is easy to view the life with sadness. Doom the life from the start. The bookends are bad, so the book must be. Where if someone is born into a right standing home, both parents are happy church goin folk- what a celebration of life! This child is destined to be great. Beautiful bookends.
But what about the stuff written on the page? The ups and downs the twists and turns the exciting parts. What about the stories that tug at your heart and wish you could solve all the problems?
There are times in our life when we have big choices to make. What we do in those moments how we handle ourselves is what shows our character, builds our character. Our choices show who we really are. Even if it is something we got ourselves into, there is a moment in time where we have to make a choice.
There was a time in my life where I was seeing a man who I really liked. He made me smile so much. We would make each other laugh. We could talk for hours. I learned so much from him. He learned a lot from me. We would go to lunch- and we never had enough time cause we were so lost in getting to know each other. He was older than me *cough*twicemyage*cough* but it was ok. I fell for him. Even though I knew it would never work. I enjoyed the mystery. The adventure. I even became good friends with his wife.
Donald Miller has a book on the elements of story. It is a really good book called "A million miles in a thousand years" In the book he talks about how we have to make things happen. We cant expect our life to be full of adventure and have great stories to tell when we are old if all we do is sit in front of the TV. We cant wait for our story to happen. If we want a good story then it requires an aspect of risk. It requires us to own up to the hard truths about our daily lives and make the difference.
Kind of makes me want to quit my job and move to Africa. Or New York. Scratch that- I would really rather not live in NY.
We have to make our story.
Im not good at being super transparent. Which is a good thing if you want to protect yourself and a bad thing if you want anyone to know the real you.
For example- the story of the man above. Raise your hand if you knew that? Very few. I dont know who reads that but you may still be in shock that it happened- or better yet, that I posted it on the interwebs.
Anyway.
I am a planner. I like to make to-do lists and do them, in order. I like to figure out how a person works and operates and then associate with them in a way where there are no surprises. I like to be in control. [this is not a good thing] So when things happen, when life happens and I am not in control. When I didnt plan far enough in advance. I freak out a little.
I shut down. I get introspective and wonder at what I am supposed to do. I try frantically to make a plan. My brain races. I get lost in myself trying to figure out the next game plan. I try to see the bookends. I try to figure out what the last chapter says so that I can get the story back on track. I blog to find out what I am thinking.
Right now I am at a loss. Here are the facts in list form:
Death in the family
Separation from family
New home
New friends [how to relate? how to get to know them?... more on this later]
work - what am I doing?
the list goes on, but I just got scared that someone might actually read this so I stopped.
Sigh. When there is so much going on in my head and heart how do I organize the information in a safe way?
I want to get it all out and then look at it and only pick up the good pieces. But its all apart of me so there is nothing I can really give up.
I am looking at the bookends of my life and sizing it up. My story may have to over compensate for the bookends.
How do I make the story good? How do I make it interesting?
And there, there is my fatal flaw. I really do live as though I am the one writting it. I think I can make it all well. Figure out the last chapter but I cant.
I just hope that I dont ruin too many other stories in trying to figure out my own.
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