Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Need for Speed

Since I was young, speed always attracted me more than other “risky” endeavors. I wanted to fly down the alley on my bicycle, not pop wheelies or jump ramps. Just give me the wind in my hair and the road passing too quickly under me. For some reason, riding fast makes me feel more in control than navigating tricky obstacles. I always preferred running to more overtly technical sports like basketball or soccer. Granted, my affinity for more race-like activities probably owed itself in part to a general lack of coordination (required in most team-centered athletics), but there is something more to it.

In life, I want to retain some sense of control. I will make sure that the road ahead doesn’t contain any unexpectedly large potholes. I tune up my bike. I pick roads I’ve traversed before. And then, I go fast. I speed through it with the highest efficiency, nimble but safe. Once I know where I want to go and clear an acceptable trajectory, I take off, judging success by the swiftness of the journey to my anticipated goal.

Of course, in life, the ending location never quite matches my initial picture, and I often end up having to veer off my intended route. I am resistant to diverting from my original, carefully planned course. I sometimes don’t trust life to turn out okay if I don’t map it out and rush through it, even though I have accumulated years of evidence that things do work out. It’s like I think that that way to live life is to smooth out the path I desire and then hurry down it before the storms come and erode the terrain. How’s that for leaving no room for miracles?

Speed can be great. It’s fulfilling for me to drive my car as fast as possible down roads where one would be wiser to exert extra caution. But on the other hand, I don’t want to pass by the people who need help on the side of the road or never notice the interesting sights that abound in this world of ours. But if my velocity demands my total attention, I’ll never catch the beauty in the periphery.

Instead of flying down the alley, I’d like to take the occasional, random trip down an unknown path, where I can’t pedal quickly but might meet terrain that holds infinitely more treasure than the path I leveled for myself. It’s time to let life move around me and go with the flow instead of trying to direct every move. It’s time to work a bit at navigating challenging courses instead of improving on my latest time trial. Conquering technicalities can give the same rush as blazing speeds. Let it go.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Out of Whack

Can you remember times in your life when the universe seemed to align—when the world outside, the world inside, your body, and your desires all walked together in synchronicity? Now is not one of those times. Not for me.

It feels as though the world is handing me things faster than I can take them while my body aches for rest and my heart wants everything and nothing at the same time. When a few spare moments float to the surface, I like to sit and be quiet, asking for some direction, some peace about life. The truth is, I prefer a slower pace. When things move so quickly that I can practically feel the breeze their momentum creates, it’s time to take a step back. When my to-do lists grow longer and more complicated, I have to throw them away. I have to trust that the important things will rise to the surface.

However, this has always been difficult for me. Especially now, I genuinely want to accomplish every single task and aspiration I’ve noted on colored post-its and affixed to my coffee table/work area. So many exciting opportunities, interests, and burgeoning abilities to choose from. Can I find a happy medium between throwing in the towel and pursing these line items to the point of overwhelming my mind, body, and schedule?

The key is doing one thing at a time and remembering the downside of multi-tasking. If I’m doing three things at once, I’m doing nothing as well as I could. It’s often more efficient to tackle one thing at a time because my mind can fully focus on the task at hand and complete it far more quickly. I can apply this to small things (eating, answering emails, cleaning, and doing work for my job) as well as to the pursuit of large-scale goals.

For instance, I can decide to work on my website a little bit tonight. I don’t have to decide what my entire online package will be. I can just work on a single page tonight. If that’s too vague or too much, I can decide to exclusively find the images I’m going to use on a few pages and upload them. Instead of thinking about the friends/contacts/mentees/associates I need to call as a giant entity I care so much about and can so easily let down, I can decide to reply to one email or make one outreach call. Simplification is often key for me.

But still, my body, mind, and outside world feel all out of kilter. What does my soul think? Can it possibly draw these disparate pieces together? Can slowing down fix this issue? Perhaps not. I am learning so much in so many areas; maybe none of these parts of me know quite how to continue operating. I certainly can’t be the person I was before I gained the knowledge I’m now gaining. I can’t make the world revert back to how it was before I had responsibilities, opportunities, or various hardships. I must start walking from this point, even if everything else is out of step at first.

So I guess the essential truth here is to take one step at a time, in whatever I encounter or go through, in any area of life. Just keep stepping. And I guarantee that I will also be lying down, closing my eyes, and crying out for guidance in the stillness.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Our Little Worlds

Today, I listened to a story on This American Life about a woman who hd collected dozens of books over the years, all inscribed with dedications from loved ones. However, every dedication had been written in her own hand… and most were addressed from relatives who were no longer living at the time of the supposed signing. A mixture of thoughts came up about this. Certainly, a certain sadness surrounds her actions, but a hopefulness, too. Instead of pity or puzzlement, I primarily felt amazement at her creativity.

Personally, this sounds like something I would do. Why not imagine that people I once knew cared enough about me to give me books I truly would enjoy? Thinking of what they might say, what I’d want them to say, and the difference between the two would be very revealing. It is very revealing—an unanswerable quandary worth examining.

A second story concerned a woman who periodically quits whatever job she has in order to take care of her children, who she raises by herself. Sometimes, when she needs to return to work again, it takes months to find employment. She built a whole strategy behind looking for work, including how long to wait before she stops being picky and takes whatever job becomes available (60 days).

Do many people do this: quit jobs without having another one in their back pocket? It seems like an incredible feat to me, even though I realize that people do it all the time. It makes me wonder if I should quit my job, thereby pushing myself into a position where I have to make music, write, and be creative in other ways to make ends meet. Pushed myself into that corner strikes me as something romantic and exciting. I hope the creative juices would be forced out, and my energies could be channeled into areas I never considered before.

I have considered the quitting and blazing a new trail option many times. Just quit, I tell myself, and see what happens. I’ll have to pay the rent, so I will pay the rent. I’ll need to make money. But how? A way would emerge.

Will I one day be brave enough to step out on that ledge? Could I cope with a life without as much security as I have now? Part of me doubts it—mostly because I’ve proved how insane (for lack of a better word) I tend to become without external structures. It gets very difficult for me to live outside any set boundary or even to adhere a framework of my own creation.

Or am I not trusting in how much I’ve grown and my own abilities? What if I fully trusted myself? Do you fully trust yourself to live without a paycheck or a job to go to most days of the week? Many of you live that way. How do you feel about it? Where do your structures come from? Do you need any?

I have no idea how healthy my current thoughts and propensities in this area really are. One day, I will back myself into a corner if that’s what I want. But I’d rather find innovative ways to start shining right now, in the midst of my cushy bimonthly-paycheck-inclusive life.

But so much potential exists—in me and in every individual. How can we find the circumstances under which we will flourish and grow? Can we find the courage to look? Or will they come on their own? Is it about trying anything and everything? Is it about removing expectations and figuring out how to “show up” for life? What happens if we don’t “show up”?

Is the act of writing a dedication to yourself of the same value as a book inscribed with someone else’s writing? Is working creatively within the bounds you currently have equally important as reaching beyond boundaries and finding new places to thrive? I can only pray for avenues of expansion to appear and for me to have the motivation and bravery to walk down them. I pray the same for you.