Dying a little

Okay, the good news is that I made it to Seattle with nary a scratch. Okay, there were no scratches.

Everything went off smoothly just as I'd planned...repeatedly. This, of course, reinforces the behavior of plan, review the plan, review my review, adjust one finer point then review again. Enact plan. Review. Continue enacting plan. Pause to make sure I'm not missing anything. Finish plan. See. Easy. Right?

This morning, however, started completely average...then stayed that way.

I've not been back in Seattle for three months so the things that used to be important to me were not kept up with. This isn't a bad thing. It's just different. What is interesting, however, is how different the world looks when you've stepped away from it for just a short while. Yes, it truly is the small things.

In no particular order:

I needed to update the Apply OS, iTunes, Microsoft Office and various Adobe applications. My wife...alas...does not practice good computing hygiene. That was at least a 45 minute love fest of download, install, check then update the update. 

While I did this I went through the mail. Geeze. It must be the end of the year as I have a handful of new credit cards to activate. Sheesh. Also, insurance statements, bank statements, various other important docs that needed to be read and shredded or carefully kept. I'm not going to lie...I'm not the greatest filer in the world so this isn't such a big deal. I do, however, have not one but two copies of Gameinformer to read. Yay!

Cobwebs. See, when I step out for a smoke I would, for three minutes, take a broom and dust them away as my wife is, it's fair to say, not a fan of our arachnid friends. I always kept up with them when I was here but now that I'm gone there's no one to do that. It's the little ways I tell my wife I love her that I don't think about and that go unnoticed. 

The office desk is "crufty." See, no matter how clean you are your office desk will get ucky with dust and hand oils. It's just the way it works. I didn't make the rules. Knowing this, however, I was always good about cleaning the desktop. Again, it's a personal thing that has value to me and me alone. When it doesn't happen, however, it's symbolic of a passage of time. The desk is, literally, a place I touch every day.

Lastly, the coffee pot. You see, once you make a pot of coffee, you have to clear out the old grounds and, on occasion run a pot of water through it just to keep it fresh. As my wife barely has time for one cup of coffee in the morning she never uses the pot and chooses to use the Keurig instead. This is fine but, it is my unfortunate job to say, the coffee pot is now dead. Apparently the last round of coffee, three months ago, was forgotten. The thick layer of caked on mold over the spent grounds and the mold that grew in the water reservoir is beyond repair. Let us take a moment and honor the life of a fine coffee pot. We'd gotten the pot as a wedding gift and as such used it almost every day for over three years and sometimes more than once. I don't think the pot owes the world anything but, again, it is symbolic of time passing and the world changing.

I know there's at least one of you reading this and thinking, "really? THIS is what passes as thoughtful introspection these days? Why am I reading this?"

More importantly, am I reaching for something to write about or does it have value?

The answer is that I believe it has value because it truly is the little things in our lives that define us. Whether it is an updated computer, mail, cobwebs, crufty desktops or gunky coffee pots these touch points in our lives, when they go untouched, highlight where we live. I live on my computer and the communication capabilities it provides. I love through my mail for the important documents I must have. I live in the garage, at the desk and through coffee. These are where my life touches the physical world. 

If you had asked me, three months ago, where the world and I crossed paths I'd have not thought of any of these things. Well, I'd have thought of the computer.

This all makes me wonder if I can purposefully change where I touch life. Can I, with this knowledge, change my habits, my smallest habits? Do my small habits hold the bigger pieces of my life together? 

The other point this highlights is that we all touch the world in different ways. I've lived with my wife for something like four years. In returning home I can see how her touch points in life that I'd forgotten about have resurfaced. There are different things in the freezer and refrigerator. Things "we" didn't buy but that she clearly wants or needs. How she lives her life alone after four years with me isn't drastically different than when I met her. That person, that individual, isn't gone. She just puts her away so that we can be "us." Is it the death of her individuality or the absence of us that hurts more? As with anything, it depends.

I've fallen in love with her all over again because I love where she touches life. 

Times are difficult right now for many families. There are a lot of folks, like us, out there doing things they never thought they'd do to get by. There are people who are changing their "can't" and "won't" to "must" and "will." 

To not take advantage of the bad and see the world in new ways is to squander an opportunity to remember exactly "why" we live our lives the way we do. "Why" we choose our spouses, "why" we choose to have kids and "why" we love them. Every challenge has a lesson, we just have to lift our eyes from our tasks to learn it.

Sometimes it's in our absence that we see our contribution to the world.

Maybe we need to die a little to recognize our lives.

Life doesn't fret itself

As I've mentioned before, I'm a neurotic traveller.

For example:

Today I'm flying to Seattle.

That would seem like a simple thing but I have to, somehow, get to the airport.

Options:

• Walk to the Marta (which is about a fifteen minute walk) then take the train to the airport. Cost: $2.50 ($5.00 round trip)
• Take a cab to the airport. Cost: $40 ($80 round trip)
• Drive to the airport and park in an independent parking lot. Cost: $78.00 - $210.00
• Park at the airport. Cost: $180

I think I'm going to just walk it. Saving $73 - $205 is too good to pass up.

Okay, that's solved...now to pack.

As I'm going to Seattle I have clothes there so I don't need to take anything.  Yay! Just my laptop! However, from Seattle I'm making a stop in Denver for work. Hmm. Two days of clothes for work: slacks, button down shirt, tie and jacket. Dammit, now I have a bag.  It's a carry on but still that's a pain in the ass. Add that to the fact I'm going to walk to the Marta I really don't want to be the guy dragging his luggage along behind him on the highway. Hmm. Maybe I just fold well and see if I can get my clothes in my computer case then Iron when I get to Denver. That sounds good.

What to do with the fish?

They're not my fish, they came with the condo.

Do I have someone come by and feed them? 

Internet research says they should be good for up to two weeks! Well, hell yes. That was easy to solve as I won't be gone that long.

What about the condo itself? Should someone come by and check on it?

Nothing in it is mine so I guess the answer is no, I don't need to mess with that. Easy one.

Okay, well how about "when" to get to the airport.

Let's see, the flight is at 6:50p and I want to be there two hours early so 4:50p. The train takes an hour so 3:50p. I need to walk to the train so that's 3:20p. I need to swing by the office and run a couple of errands that won't take an hour but we'll give it an hour anyway so 2:20p. I need to shower, dress and pack but that'll only take an hour so 1:20p. What else do I need to do? Hmm. Let's get started at 1p just to be safe which will allow me time for "oops."

Alrighty!

That was pretty easy.

But first I need to recheck my boarding pass (name/flight time/etc.) Do I have my ID? Money for Marta? Crap, I'd better empty the milk in the fridge, take out the garbage, make the bed, vacuum, pick up a couple of things. Geeze. I'd better get started at noon. Oh, I need to charge my phones and my eBook reader. Crap. *long pause* Okay, everything is charging now.

I need to remember to take my chargers for the phones...oh, and my personal laptop from which I'm typing.

Let's see, anything else?

Now you may think this isn't too bad but I'm going to run through this two more times before 1p and even then while I'm in the midst of it I'll be constantly doing the math in my head, rechecking my figures, going over and over things to make sure I didn't miss anything.

The up side?

I don't typically have any issues when I travel. I'm never "that guy"...you know...the one running through the airport trying to make his flight.

I guess, for now, I'm good.

Wait.

I didn't check the weather.

Crap, I didn't check to see if the flight is on time still given the hurricane.

Well...off I go. Life isn't going to fret itself.

Call me in three months

Vortex.

There's a word for you. 

Vor...

...Tex

Vortex.

Mentally I play with words sometimes because alone they sound...interesting...in separate parts they're interesting but as a word...as a word...they explode.

Vortex is a word primed to explode.

A vortex is:

"A place or situation regarded as drawing into its center all that surrounds it." Thank you Wordnik!

Fine...there are other definitions but the most useful one for my purposes is this one.

Right now I feel as if my life is heading into a vortex...then...it will explode. Not explode in the destructive sense...explode in that "tons of stuff is changing" sense.

Everything I've been, that I'm doing, that I could be...or should be...doing is being pulled into one specific moment where I fly back to Seattle to see my wife and from there we will be in the proverbial eye of the storm. Sounds ominous doesn't it? It would be...except I'm immune to the vortex. Say what?

I've not been back to Seattle for three months. Three months is symbolic. It's a season.

My wife and I agreed when I came to Atlanta that we'd wait three months before looking around our worlds and making the next decision. Well...it's now three months and...well...it's time to make the next decision. Shouldn't there be an accompanying musical score? Something suitably dramatic please.

It's interesting. Three months ago we were in a fundamentally different place in our lives. We knew, however, because of our experience that any decision made three months ago would be or could be made differently after three months have passed. Guess what...the world is a different place and we have different decisions to make. How did we know? Seriously? Have you been reading this blog?

Don't get me wrong. The decisions aren't bad. It's just that in waiting we've given the world some time to cook. We've given our lives some time to massage out the kinks (and massage in some new ones.) What? We're supposed to think that once we've overcome one challenge that another wasn't waiting for us? Get real.

In the background, slowly whirling, slowly coming together, was every decision we needed to make, every decision we made and every decision we were going to make. The vortex is pulling it all together now.

Three months ago I was a different person in a different position. Not eminently...not preternaturally...no...just different. I have a peace now that I've not had historically so the vortex doesn't draw me in as it once did. I choose to step into it because it's where the answers lie not because I have no other place to step. It doesn't phase me. The vortex whorls around me but I can look at it dispassionately and see the answers that lie above and below.

Wait.

Don't read that as anything bad with regards to my relationship with...well...my wife. I dig my wife. I'm keeping her. Thank you very much.

No. This is all that, "where am I going to live," crap. "How are we going to do it," crap. This is the administrativa of life. It all has answers. The answers are...we're going to live somewhere and we'll do it somehow. We have the ability to make it happen so...it's going to happen.

Right now we have choices so we're going to allow the vortex to spin and see what it wants to decide then we'll respond appropriately. We're in the unique position of deciding what we want to do on our own terms then compare that against the vortex and see if it makes sense.

Sure, the vortex is trying to make rules and create situations that are challenging but we can step back...no...step back a little farther...farther. Okay, pretend someone is trying to take your family picture at Niagra Falls...yes...that kind of disconnection...that kind of distance.

We can step back and look at where we are practically and logically. There's no emotion involved in making our decisions. The vortex may be writing the rules but emotionally it is what it is. There are things we can change and things we can't. The things we can't change we'll deal with and the things we can we'll manage.

But the vortex continues to eat...

I've had the opportunity to talk with some folks recently and the words I hear are, "I can't" or "I won't."

Really?

Here's the deal...the world is changing for them whether they like it or not. They can either dispassionately look at it as an opportunity for adventure or they can choose to ignore it. Maybe they can ignore it and they'll do fine. That's their choice and their world, but this "can't" and "won't" mindset is born of too many years of sameness. They're too comfortable.

They don't want to hear what I have to say about that.

Am I right in what I'm saying?

Oh...fuck no.

Everyone's lives are different. 

"I can't" and "I won't" are infuriating words for me because people that use them tend to change only in response to the world changing and only when they're forced to change.

I used to use those words as well so I know what they're thinking.

Hopefully they won't have to test your commitment as I have.

Being in charge of our lives means we don't use words like "can't" and "won't."

Being in charge of our lives means that we dispassionately weigh the value of what is possible versus what isn't. I'm sorry but "can't" becomes "will" when the ability to continue to eat is involved. Am I being dramatic? Mayhap I am but I'm not being more dramatic than when we wrap ourselves in "can't" and "won't."

Some folks are choosing to fight the vortex. Maybe they'll win. I'm not in charge of that. Fight it little fighters. Fight your brains out. No one wants you to win more than I do.

What I'm getting at is that because I've fought my "can't" and "won't" I'm in a position to not fight the vortex but to ignore it. Like a super power. I've been mutated by change (yes...the third arm is doing fine, thank you.)

I, however, reserve the right to not be emotionally distraught when the world turns and poos on folks who let change happen to them.

Yes, I know, I'm a dick for not feeling an emotional twinge when someone has to give up something they love. Yes, it's horrible. Sure...sure...your world is turned upside down. Oh...no...trust me...I get it. Hey, whatever works for you. I'd be happier if you proved me wrong...but experience tells me I'm right.

Hmm....

I sound awfully self riotous right now don't I? Pretty full of myself. That's unfortunate. I don't mean to be. How does one share their experience without coming across poorly? Dang it...add that to the list of things I need to learn.

It's a fair assessment. I do feel a bit more experienced as of late but hey...I've still got a lot more to learn than I know.

Tell you what...you fight the power your way and let me know how it turns out.

I'll be waiting.  We'll talk next season.

Life doesn't happen

So, I was sitting on the couch this weekend doing absolutely nothing when the strangest thing didn't happen.

I didn't hear a loud crash outside so I didn't run to the window to see what wasn't going on!

I was absolutely not surprised to see that a meteor didn't unexpectedly completely flatten my car!

Well, I wasn't completely astounded by this utterly strange occurrence that didn't happen.

As I wasn't looking at a completely destroyed car I didn't throw my hands in the air and cry out, "why not me?"

Unsure of what not to do next I didn't jump on the internet and search for meteor removal services.

Strangely enough I didn't find one nor did I call to talk with someone. A strange girl with an odd accent didn't answer the phone nor did she take all of my information.

Satisfied I had everything well in hand I continued to rest on the couch.

When the Meteor Recovery Vehicle (MRV) and a boatload of cops and TV crews didn't show up I wasn't surprised. No cop named McDavis interrogated me for two hours for insurance fraud and I didn't have to sign any paperwork. Once I didn't explain that it wasn't my fault a three ton meteor didn't flatten my car MdDavis didn't shake his head and say, "I suspect you're right."

No MRV team circled my car assessing the damage and how to remove the giant rock.

I wasn't fretting or pacing as they did this nor did I call anyone I knew to tell them what didn't happen.

It wasn't soon revealed to me, however, that it wasn't my car that wasn't crushed by a meteor but my neighbor's car that doesn't look exactly like mine!

Well, as you can imagine I didn't run out to the other parking lot to see that my car wasn't damaged nor was I overjoyed that I didn't have to buy a new car or file a claim against my insurance.

Whew. What a crazy that wasn't. 

I wasn't totally exhausted and didn't sleep like a rock because of it.

Ah, life, sometimes you don't happen.

Dave says it's art

Is technology the end of creativity?

Not for the creator. (I'd cite that but I can't say as I've seen anyone use it that I'd credit. Therefore, I'm taking credit for it.)

We are one of two things. We are either builders or we are consumers. We write music or we listen to it. We write books or we read them. (I come back to this at the end so...be patient. The payoff is worth it...I think.)

Some of us do both but to do both well is rare.

It is, by all accounts, far more difficult to create than to consume. (Again...I'd cite this but...well...DUH.)

Perhaps it is an undiscovered law of nature that consumption, no matter the medium, is easier than creation.

Fire consumes...for example. Easy. One match and that which is there is no longer...well...there. Or to be philosophical about it...there's no there...there. (Wow...another one...I'm on a roll...cite schmite...)

According to Michael Crichton, "Creation is an act of sheer will." I'd credit that better but it's from Jurassic Park.

I forget the author that said, "It's easy to write. You just stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead." Sorry whomever said that. I didn't write it...I just kept it. (Nevermind, I Bing'ed it. It was Gene Fowler and the quote is, "Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form...")

(Here's where I break from my initial idea...)

There are no new colors to discover. I think that's a fair statement.

There are, however, colors to discover that completely and utterly symbolize this exact moment. This is the right time for that color. Who is going to find it first? I'm sure there's a design axiom for that.

No, not letting that thought go so easy...hang on.

It's not that just any color of red will do right now. It's exactly the right color of red such that when you see it you will fall to the ground on your knees and weep because it is so true. 

There is a musical tone that will do the same and a scent and a taste. There is a shape, maybe just a brushstroke that so captures this moment in time that it will become "forever" and it will be revered. It's not that anything is new. We're not talking about the discovery of "blue" we're talking about the use of THAT blue right NOW...exactly as it needs to be. It's a color, scent, flavor or shape that leaves us wondering if our lives were complete before we experienced it.

Hyperbole? Hardly. Do you have to be a particularly sensual person, that is to say a person in touch with their senses, to "get it?" No. 

Our lives...our moments as a culture rush like sparrows completely undirected and yet directed at the same time. We're all doing something "like" everyone else and in that moment when we all converge there is a perfect bit of art that whelms us. 

In the 80's it was Nagel. Oh...come on...you know it's true. His art defined the 80's.

There was Anne Geddes who defined the 90's Target crowd. What? Like you DON'T know what I'm talking about? Please.

Starbucks wins out in the 2k's...which...oddly...is more symbolic than it deserves to be. Starbucks isn't evil. They make coffee. It's decent coffee and a nice experience. It's a return to the coffee house culture. That's not all bad. Whatever. Shoot the guy that's popular, that seems to be the fad. (And yes I know it's not "art" in the traditional sense...but the orchestration of Starbucks is...art.)

I'd talk about the 60's and 70's but then there'd be a religious war and no one would win so we'll skip those.

Now we've all retracted into our little micro-holes...we're breaking away from the "common experience" to "find our own way." How west coast of us. How quaint. Organic this and farm raised that. Replenishable (a word my dictionary doesn't recognize...go figure) something else. Being poor and money wise is as fashionable now as pissing money away in the 80's was. Now we look for that cute iconic art piece that symbolizes our uniqueness and rejection of commercialized art. What we end up with looks exactly the same.

It doesn't matter. Creation is so challenging when someone gets it right we all flock to it like the sparrows to their leader. We can try not to. We can "fight the power" but in the long run we all suckle from the same tit. Keep fighting the power my friend. You'll win...eventually.

Hmm...where'd this soap box come from? 

As a culture we have a "common experience" and as such there are colors and sights, sounds and tastes that define each moment in which we live. The lead sparrow (I'm sure the little dude has a name...let's call him Dave) Dave is going wherever he likes and doing what he likes in response to those urges while a trainload of sparrowkin follow him. 

Is it that Dave has the answer or that he's just THAT in touch with the world? Is it always the same Dave or do the sparrows follow a different one when they're tired of the first Dave? Maybe the Tipping Point by our friend Malcolm Gladwell has the answer.

It's not what's new that is the answer, to be honest. It's those who make sense of the possibilities. It's those that take what we have and re-form it into something greater. 

(Here's where I realize that my opening is not where I landed.)

I'm nowhere near where I started. Shit.

(See.)

Okay, long story short this is where I started...

A buddy of mine sent me this link (http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/)

Punch in the first address you've ever lived (provided Google has a street view of it and blah blah blah technical crap) and watch. If you picked a good address you will be...well...amazed. The layers of music...art...technology and personal involvement are...amazing. It is...to me...symbolic of where we are in our digital and emotional lives. Shoot me for being a sap.

That's where I started. I was whelmed by the creativity.

Maybe this entry came together as it needed to. Good art makes us wonder around and explore our emotions and our lives. Good art launches us at our emotions and our beliefs without concern for damage.

This set me off...therefore...it's art.