Ralph Waldo Emerson

where i’m at

I’m surprised y’all are reading me, honestly. Lately it seems I only write crazy dialogues with myself, or I preach — to myself. I’ve always believed people are more alike than different (culture is extrinsic rather than intrinsic, at least initially), and so it is perhaps validating if you can relate to my absurdity. But . . . Really — I’m sorry.

That adult-child piece, though — the idea that when we were kids we thought adults had things all figured out . . .

Oh, honey.

As I have aged, life has (sadly) gotten more rather than less complex. This is of course inevitable as a person assumes self-reliance in adulthood, but I sometimes wonder if the modern world and its Internetopia hasn’t exaggerated this complexity. Now not only am I aware of what was once the “Great Unknown,” the Great Unknown is also available at the opening of an Internet browser. I can access the world with my fingertips.

And not only that, as an adult, I’ve become increasingly aware of the world within. We are emotional creatures with the capacity for both great love and great darkness. The things that make us “us” start when we are young, but it is as we grow and grapple with our genetic and cultural makeup that we can make decisions about who we will become. I myself have struggled with feelings of inadequacy. Why? Many reasons, but it is up to me to determine what to do with those feelings. I have one life to live. Why should I spend mine trying to meet others’ standards?

This is where that “why” I’ve mentioned comes in. If I am tuned into my own values — the morals I learned as a child and the passions that make me “me” — and if I listen to my gut on a daily basis, then I should have nothing to apologize for. I’m me, and I’m on a journey. If you’re not interested in joining the ride, then please, move along. (Easier for a “pleaser” like me to say than do!)

I didn’t make it to my trash clean-up this morning. I wanted to — both for humanitarian and social reasons — but I’m realizing that sometimes it’s okay to take a day off. I needed to write this post as much as I need to think. And to breathe. I hope that, wherever you are, you’re taking a day off and taking care of yourself this weekend, too.

 

 

wherever you are

ladder4..
What do you do? What do you want to do?

If you’d have asked me that question in college, I’d have given you a blank stare. I loved to write and read; Dr. Haluska’s were my favorite classes. I was decent at editing, I knew, and okay at writing. There is always room to improve, though, and how many people actually make it as authors?

In short: I had no idea.

I got lucky, though, and landed a copy-writing internship straight out of college. It was at a publishing company, and it was here that my first job was born. I was good at what I did, and my editors loved me. But that didn’t mean I wanted to be a copy writer forever . . .

After a year and a half, I returned home to California where I worked as an ophthalmology tech, a job I hated but desperately needed. Shortly thereafter, I received the opportunity to teach in Asia — first in Taiwan and then in Hong Kong. Those experiences changed my world, and most days I long to go back. It’s been freelance writing and teaching and tech writing since then, however, and I must say: I’m grateful for each one. My “career” thus far has given me insight into far more walks of life than many can claim — and that’s a good thing.

ladder5Why? you might ask, to which I’d reply, Why not? How could it possibly be bad to be able to relate to more people around you?

Not only that, good can be done everywhere. I still think of little *Lacy, in whose classroom I was an assistant last year. She’s a big second grader now, and I wonder, Does she remember me? I miss her little-girl giggle and grin. Working with people who’ve only been around just a very few years is one of the best things I ever did. These days, at the Water Agency, I help facilitate public projects aimed at helping the greater good. Pictured in this post are before and after photos of a dam the water agency built last summer to protect fish in the Russian River. People aren’t the only ones being affected by California’s historic drought.

And it all leads me to believe that whoever you are, and wherever you are, you can make a difference. You don’t have to be in a service job to help others. You don’t have to give all of your time and money to charity (although doing so never a bad thing). You don’t have to be a pastor or a teacher or have ten titles behind your name to make a difference. Life starts now, not at some distant day in the future when you’ve got everything “all figured out.” And every day counts. Sometimes all it takes is a smile or an encouraging word to turn someone’s day around — including your own.

The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Be a rainbow is somebody else’s cloud. — Maya Angelou

*Name changed

fishladder

A fishladder!

the kindness . . . quota?

“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears.”
― John Lennon

“The best way to cheer yourself is to try to cheer someone else up.”
― Mark Twain

..
motherteresahelpingI’m listening to the radio on my drive home tonight and a prerecorded host message comes on between songs. “Here at Radio 94.7, we think Sacramento is pretty awesome. But what if every person in Sacramento did just one random act of kindness per month? How awesome Sacramento would be then? If everyone did that, Sacramento would be, like, the most awesome city in the whole country!” (Or something to that effect.)

And I was like . . .

Well, okay. First things first: Random acts of kindness equal good, so — yes, intentions are good — and effort does count, so — “Yay, 94.7.”

But then I was like . . .

“Per month?!” Whoa, people. Let’s not aim too high here . . . Continue reading →