Back from vacation, with my brain as slow as a lime in an oceanside cerveza. Only now can I see how much my mind works overtime. Like the 405 freeway every brain lane is full, with thoughts honking and swerving to pass each other, overloading themselves to get into that carpool lane and move.
But now, clear air. Wide open country lanes are few but free, ideas fueling the engine to get things in motion.
The freedom comes NOT from multi-multi-multi-tasking, not from getting it all done so that it would be all done.
From a skyward Seattle hotel room, I watch strangers walk in the rain, past a McDonalds drive-through painted into the parking lot like a toy playset. The gray and drizzly afternoon is filled with people going about their business. They move on, oblivious to the cartoon duck overlooking the “Duck Rides” touring company, an old relic now penned in by modern high rise buildings and greyish-green hills beyond. People on the way home from work, looking neither left nor right, not knowing who they walk amongst, stepping unconsciously from one block to the next.
I’m in the midst of a job change now after nearly 10 years, after somehow working my way into the Committed Club. You know the Club, you’re probably in it too. The Club is for people who go above and beyond, even when no one is looking, in order to please…. who exactly?
Even after giving notice, my manager is still pouring on the requests and I am still – still – trying dutifully to fulfill them, on my way out the door. But instead of writing about his high expectations, I once again have to own this – this is me and now that it’s happened in two significant parts of my life, it’s clear that I am the common thread.
Yet another strand to unwind from this spool of yarn deconstructing all over my floor.
I did the same as a volunteer. My organization of choice just happened to be the church. Now that we have attended a new church for a few months, Continue reading “Pleasing Others”
It’s time, again, to go out. Out beyond the known walls. This has meant so much more than a Sunday change. It’s about hearing new voices, meeting and listening to new people, reading new authors, engaging and participating: not as one with an agenda but as one who has a lot to learn.
I could have written this as a 21-year old finishing college, and I daresay I did. I went off my security grid and into a gritty part of LA, listening to lives as different from my own as I could imagine. Teens in the neighborhood didn’t give a damn about Continue reading “The Wall”