Off to check the mail box!

Waiting.  I suppose I have never really been very good at this art. 

There was of course a time when some waiting was wonderful. Though I can pretty much say I have grown out of this phase of enjoying the concept, as a child, I can remember there were times when waiting was rather tantalizing.  I can almost feel the trill of excitement, the goose pimpling running up my arms as I waited in anticipation of whatever it was that had me on my toes in expectation.  Perhaps it was waiting for my Dad to come home when we had something planned, like building the club house.  I don't think we ever finished that project, but I do remember having a lot of fun working on it.  Or perhaps it was waiting for Mom to come home after we had just finished reading something for one of her classes and I knew she would need to start something new.  She always had the best things to read and if I wasn't a total pain she read them to me before bed. There was any number of things that could set one to waiting with breathless anticipation when I was a child. 

And of course there was the waiting that was incredibly tedious.  The waiting for summer to finally end so I could get back to school.  I know most of you will never admit this, but its true, that last couple of weeks was harsh.  I was simply re-hashing what I had been doing all summer.  I was straining at the bit to get back to school and see everyone that I had not seen  during the break.  Sure, summer was fun, but after awhile the long days all became the same and what I looked forward to was the change to the rhythm of fall and of school. I was definitely not good at waiting for this. It took forever for those days to pass.  Waiting in line for anything that I did not want to come to pass, like doctor's or dental visits those times were also difficult.  I am pretty sure just about everyone is a wiggler when it comes to these.

Funny, but now I find it much easier to sit patiently in the waiting room for the doctor or the dentist than I do for just about anything else in my life.  I guess we have gotten very used to a world where information comes to us at hyper speed, so waiting for someone to drop you a line, send you a quick hello or even to get something in the mail, seems like torture.  It is almost painful to open the email account and not find the message there.  And worse yet is the temptation to open the account repeatedly throughout the day - after all - email is practically instant - so I could have only just missed the missive I am waiting for - and then I would have been waiting for no reason.  Of course opening up the box to find the item having not arrived is even more disappointing the second, third, fourth and so on time around. 

I have discovered that I am truly not good at waiting.  I get rather pissy about it in fact.  It takes all of my will to not send off messages to those with whom I think I am corresponding and ask when I can expect them to GET WITH THE PROGRAM.  But I do manage, as some how I understand that it is my impatience and my issue, not theirs.  They are not trying to keep me waiting, they just have things to tend to, and I will be dealt with in good time.  So I push it down and try to put my doctor's office calm in place.  After all if I have learned that fidgeting there will only rumple the magazine, then I should be able to control my irrational bursts of feeling neglected by the mail gods when the communications I seek are neither electronically delivered nor revealed through the U. S. Postal Service.

So if you are at all like I am, and over accustomed to the idea of instant communication gratification, and occasionally beset by disgruntlement with those who are not instantly providing such gratificiation, take heart - You are not alone and take heed - Patience is indeed a virtue that not only patients should practice..........

Just thinking out loud .................. and hoping to find the humor in it..........

Off to check the mail box!

Sing it With Me

When you close your eyes do you see - rows of numbers -  like corn growing for miles along stretches of Illinois roads? Or do you see serene lakes with the shimmer of the sun setting, casting a soft golden glow on the rippling waters?

Can you shift from one vision to the next when your mind is vexed from too much time with tables of figures and indexes that have become a jumble?

I am finding as the days get longer and the lists of numbers appear to get longer and more complex that they flow inward - requiring that I focus to clear my mind and find that inner space of calm and serenity.

It is difficult to make quality personal decisions when caught up in the pace of the world.  Hard to choose well about diet, exercise or sleep.  Hard to open yourself to dialogue that is not centered on keeping up with the demands on your time.  The hour glass seems to spin faster, as if the grains that mark the flow of time have gotten finer and can slip more quickly through making minutes seconds and hours minutes.  Time  that is such a precious commodity is lost and as we all know  - we cannot get it back.

Yet even knowing this, I find myself driving harder, and closing off more in an effort to accomplish the magical feat of getting the job done.  Turning more and more inward, and finding less and less to  turn to as the numbers begin to fill up the space.

And today I just had to ask - what do I see when I close my eyes? And could I control that image anymore?  I don't want to be that person who has no vision beyond the slim tunnel of my job.  yet in this time and place I feel as if that I am becoming just that.  A very limited human.  And not much being in that life at all.

So I think, that workload or not , I needed to take the time out to express a bit of what I see and feel - and perhaps uncap what I am holding in - To free my vision again - and make myself open to more than just the numbers I am drowning in.

I hope that for those of you who live on the accelerated path of professional life - you will recognize the danger of which I write.  And that you will also take a moment to breathe.  To slow down - even if it is only long enough to recognize what you are doing.  It may be enough to help you find your way back to yourself - Well at least after busy season..........

To all the work-a-holics that I have known before.........Time to come out from behind that door.....

Sing it with me now................

Road Trip Deceptions

I have spent so much time alone in the last couple of days.  It is amazing how little I note the time that I spend by myself.  Yet truth be told, I spend quite a bit on my own.  With the boys grown, they come and go - birds on the wing so to speak.  I can never really know for certain when they will light upon the doorstep and stay for a few hours, days or minutes.  I travel quite often, and in this, I am never quite alone, and yet am almost always alone.  I do not frequently travel directly with anyone.  Though I usually meet quite a few people along the way.  That is, perhaps, one of the most enjoyable aspects of traveling.  Yet I am in truth alone.  Responsible always for myself.  Contained entirely, neatly within my personal package.

I drove yesterday - from noon to after midnight, listening to a book on CD, watching the mountains turn to cities, than to farm fields and then to small rural towns and back finally to cities again.  I found the silence in my head very soothing.  Typically there is a lot of chatter going on upstairs.  The narrator took up the space, leaving my thoughts no room to interrupt.  It was extremely pleasant.  If you ever need a vacation from yourself, I highly recommend this therapy.  You will be tired, but you will not be stressed at the end of the drive.  Your mind is just emptied of everything but the story.  Though I should note that is very important to A) pick a good author and B) make sure the narrator has a voice you can listen to for 12-14 hours.

In any event, my drive was fairly uneventful.  I noted that there are quite a lot of white and off-white or silver cars on the road now.  That many of the newer cars are in bright colors.  That truckers still drive as if they are the only vehicles on the road for the most part.  And that it is a pain to drive in the rain through construction - which of course is everywhere this time of year.  But other than this what I noted most, is that I felt sort of calm and numb.  The emptiness was very soothing. 

As I pulled into the driveway I sort of felt a bit of regret.  The book was not yet over, but my drive was.  I felt as if the trip should have continued until the book wrapped up.  That somehow it should have timed itself for my delivery home - like a well made movie - delivering me to my doorstep for the final shot.  Instead, I drove to work today in the melancholy afterglow of the book as it continued, reminding me that there was a road out there somewhere that would lead me away from the mountain of work that waited for me and the hours upon hours I would spend at my desk for the next several weeks.

I have another CD to go before the book is over - so I will be continously reminded of the open space and the hum of the engine and the sweet release of nothing more than road in front of me until the book comes to its conclusion.  I thought perhaps I should let it go.  But then, I always finish a book once I have started it.  And of course - being tantalized each morning and each night is not such a bad thing afterall - it can remind me that there is a light at the end of busy season -

And there is - as I will be taking the same drive fairly soon after the buttons are pressed. - Odd the way the world works - wrapping itself back around? 

My what wonderful webs we weave - when it is ourselves we choose to decieve..............

Its a long way from here to there and longer to get back again

So a funny thing happened the other day. 

I was peacefully minding my own business, just enjoying the view from the balcony of the hotel room I had just checked into.  It was really quite lovely, a small lake (man made obviously as it had a couple of rather beautifully lit fountains springing up in random colors), surrounded by the golf course that ringed its edges and highlighted by the husky depths of shade that the moonlight cast upon the water.  I must say that I really enjoyed the view.  I probably would still have fond memories of that view had I not turned around to discover that I was locked out on the balcony with nothing but my empty bottle of beer.

I can only assume that you have canoodled my conumdrum given that I have mentioned that I was enjoying the view from my balcony.  It is not like I was locked out on a patio.  I was indeed locked out on a small space suspended many (many) feet in the air, below which was indeed patio graced rooms and the lawn which had moments ago been such a nice feature - what with the walking path that ran through it so conveniently located just beneath my window - within a stone's drop.

As my phone was sitting with everything else on the desk in the room, I had very few options.  As I saw them I had specifically three.

One, I could stand out there and wait until someone came down the path and wave and scream until I got their attention and hope that they would fetch security to rescue me.  I could also hope that this would not prove to be anyone I knew, as the purpose of my visit to this establishment was grounded in visiting with quite a lot of folk that I did indeed know, this did not seem likely.  Further, I had retired rather early for my group, so I anticipated I would be out there quite some time, beer-less.  Not good.

Two, I could try to sleep in one of the un-padded iron chairs on the balcony with the mosquitos enjoying their late night snack (me) and hope that in the morning I could catch a staff person making some sort of rounds and that I would be rescured in time to make my duly required meetings, etc.

Each of these required someone on that path helping.  One required a painful night and no guaranty of morning rescure, let alone timely rescue.  I was not fond of either option.

Three, I could climb over the barrier between the balcony units and try to find someone at home and ask for help.  This seemed reasonable enough.  I opted of course for three as it had the great value of providing immediate action and potentially more immediate relief.

The unit to the right yielded no one at home.  I could not go further because this ended in a drop down to a ledge about 2 foot wide and five foot across before another balcony was available.  This not seeming like a great idea, I went back over and tried going left.

Hmmmmmmm.  No one home at door number two.  Up and over again to the left and no one home at door number three.  Which brought me to.........yep.........another ledge.  However this time I could actually see a TV flickering in the room beyond the ledge.  So I was back to option number two above or the ledge. 

I choose the ledge.  Over the rail I went, holding on to the rail with one hand and balancing against the building with the other as I stepped down the two feet to get a foot hold on the ledge.  Then I walked over as calm as I pleased (or as I could) and pulled myself up and over onto the balcony.  Praying that the TV was not a trick to make housekeeping think someone was there I turned my back to the room (just in case privacy was required) and knocked with the back of my hand.  It took a  couple of tries but finally the person inside figured out where the sound was coming from.  Curiousity one out over safety and they answered the balcony door. 

I was a bit shocked (completely ashamed) to discover that the door I had knocked on belonged to a VIP member of my group - but well hell by then I just wanted off the damn balcony.  They let me call security and I scrammed out of the room as fast as I could.  I called later to thank them for the rescue and thought - well Thank Goodness That's Over.

Some thoughts just get you in more trouble.

The next day I had a call that took me well past time to enjoy the group lunch - which was laid out quite fantastically beneath my balcony along the walkway and shore of the lake.  I decided that I would use my rental car and drive out to get a bite before the next appointment and began to look for the keys as the last call was wrapping up.  They were not in my bag.  They were not in my jacket.  They were not in my folder.  They were not on the floor.  They were not in the hotel room anywhere.  They were not on the way to the car.  They could not be in the car because the car was locked and I would have needed the keys to lock the car. Which only meant one thing...................

They had to have been in the pocket of my jacket when I went on my ninja balcony adventure the night before. OMG....................Back to the room and back to the balcony - where I discover much to my chagrin that they are still breaking down from the luncheon.  I check my watch.  If I am to have any chance of getting out to get something to eat I have to find the keys in the next 15 minutes.  I have not eaten breakfast and I did not eat dinner the night before.  This is a time for action.

I poise myself at the edge of the balcony to the left and wait until the two gentlemen are turned away and make a quick leap over to the next one (almost landing on one of their iron chairs).  I stroll over to the far left corner of this balcony and try to nonchalantly take up the same pose I had before, hoping they won't notice I have changed locations.  One glances up but seems disinterested and moves on, as do I.  I am up and over and onto the next balcony in a flash.  I rush over to look at the ledge, and of course, there they are - the keys - right next to the balcony of my rescuer - just sitting there as if they did not belong in my pocket.  I pause, look to see if anyone is checking out my cat-burglar cum-ninja act and see no-one looking my way and go over the side again - this time in bare feet.  I get the keys and discover that getting back on that balcony is much harder than coming down to the ledge.  I press onward and get a bit of a sliver in my toe for my efforts but manage to get onto the balcony without either being seen or falling off.  I think the latter is the greater achievement at this point but was rather proud of the former at the time.  I make the two successive leaps and then smile like an idiot at one of the workers before I disappear into my room to get the sliver out.

And so I can say with all confidence my friends that I have indeed learned that it is a long way from here to there and sometimes it is even longer to get back again........................

Practice your ninja skills on the ground..................

Rock Steady

R