It's again a nice day, and the words keeps coming, haunting me like the wind flowing through the cracks in the windows. I have a deadline tomorrow. I like traffic lights! Except when they are red.
I'm recuperating a bit from a stomach bug (ice cream and lemon beer do not mix) after going on a long 20 km bike ride last evening. It could be I was just a bit dehydrated, eh? The headache is gone and I can still sit and type. I have the most comfortable bike seat, so my bottom feels pretty good. It's these small things in life that make life bearable and help us go on.
Might end up working pretty late tonight. My partner is off on a company BBQ, and won't be back until late either, so it's all good. Procrastination is a process too... just a negative one that builds anxiety. I swear though I write better when I am under some time pressure. Maybe once I sell my book and give it to the editor / publisher (not necessarily in that order of course), and they give me tons of corrections with a deadline then I'll be clearer. No no no, IT has to be wonderful before that... work work work.
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Aim and Process scratch work
Hi!
Today I am putting together some general notes on "process" again. Over the next few days, I am going to do a bit of scratch work for a test sample writing assignment I have to do for a client. So why not work out some junk here, I say. You all are my guinea pigs!! Bwaaah!!
The assignment bugs me a bit: "identify and illustrate a process you have used to solve a specific problem". Questions like the ones below have been bugging me (within the context of "The Process of Re-inventing Myself"):
Process ==> how to reach aim
Re-invention ==> change from one aim to another more "loftier" aim; gear changing -- not necessarily just making new wheels
Myself ==> knowing who I am and what I can meaningfully achieve in the time frame I have set up in the process scheme
Map ==> Contextual solution (framework, frame of reference) i.e. is your past woes plaguing your current or future context?
Change context ==> work from a different map an alternate reality, think different
What I am mainly doing here is trying to change my view of life and frame of reference. I think this will make the process and shaping into a hopeful author much easier and smooth. This could take years!! That's okay, I am cultivating patience. Liking the garden I grow now...
Today I am putting together some general notes on "process" again. Over the next few days, I am going to do a bit of scratch work for a test sample writing assignment I have to do for a client. So why not work out some junk here, I say. You all are my guinea pigs!! Bwaaah!!
The assignment bugs me a bit: "identify and illustrate a process you have used to solve a specific problem". Questions like the ones below have been bugging me (within the context of "The Process of Re-inventing Myself"):
- What is a process?
- What are some examples of processes that are used to help solve problems?
- Why use a process? Or is it one and the same to say how to get from "A" to "B"?
- Are some of life's problems just so indeterminate and so undefined that no solution or process will ever really cover them adequately?
- Isn't it all how you define it?
Process ==> how to reach aim
Re-invention ==> change from one aim to another more "loftier" aim; gear changing -- not necessarily just making new wheels
Myself ==> knowing who I am and what I can meaningfully achieve in the time frame I have set up in the process scheme
Map ==> Contextual solution (framework, frame of reference) i.e. is your past woes plaguing your current or future context?
Change context ==> work from a different map an alternate reality, think different
What I am mainly doing here is trying to change my view of life and frame of reference. I think this will make the process and shaping into a hopeful author much easier and smooth. This could take years!! That's okay, I am cultivating patience. Liking the garden I grow now...
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Writing Prompt #6?
I lost track of how many writing prompts I've posted here, so today I will start with the arbitrary number SIX.
WP: Create a character based on your first grade teacher
Janelle Cassin looked over the hard-worn library book she found sitting on the school steps, held delicately in her hands. She knew who the book belonged to, but she did not want to push the boy. She did not want to push the mother either, for his mother should teach David how to take care of his books that do not really belong to him. Janelle thought sweetly of David, who although a bit of a bully on the playground, remembered to respect his teachers and do what he was told. Lately, David appeared distracted and forgetful in class, and Janelle could only wonder what happened at home. Janelle met his mother a few times, but not enough to really understand what was going on in that woman's head. Why couldn't his mother help him understand why library books need to be cared for? Janelle shrugged it off and continued up the steps.
As she walked into the building as the bell rang, some of her children were singing her song:
"Mrs. Cassin is our leader
she tells us what to do
where ever we go we tell her
and she loves us too."
She puts the dilapidated book on her desk. Now only if she could get her boyfriend to sing the same tune. Her boyfriend seemed lately a lot like 6 year old David, getting forgetful and leaving things that are not his in bad shape, out in the elements to get destroyed. No matter, Janelle had to focus now on her kids, she'd deal with her boyfriend later.
....
WP: Create a character based on your first grade teacher
Janelle Cassin looked over the hard-worn library book she found sitting on the school steps, held delicately in her hands. She knew who the book belonged to, but she did not want to push the boy. She did not want to push the mother either, for his mother should teach David how to take care of his books that do not really belong to him. Janelle thought sweetly of David, who although a bit of a bully on the playground, remembered to respect his teachers and do what he was told. Lately, David appeared distracted and forgetful in class, and Janelle could only wonder what happened at home. Janelle met his mother a few times, but not enough to really understand what was going on in that woman's head. Why couldn't his mother help him understand why library books need to be cared for? Janelle shrugged it off and continued up the steps.
As she walked into the building as the bell rang, some of her children were singing her song:
"Mrs. Cassin is our leader
she tells us what to do
where ever we go we tell her
and she loves us too."
She puts the dilapidated book on her desk. Now only if she could get her boyfriend to sing the same tune. Her boyfriend seemed lately a lot like 6 year old David, getting forgetful and leaving things that are not his in bad shape, out in the elements to get destroyed. No matter, Janelle had to focus now on her kids, she'd deal with her boyfriend later.
....
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
adrenaline
Last Saturday we went to an amusement park. Rollercoasters, water rides and very expensive junk food was the fare. It was a bit rainy but not painfully so. We didn't have that many long queues to stand in, I think our longest was perhaps 35 minutes.
What amazes me is the adrenaline and fear I felt on going on one of these blockbuster rides, designed to emulate what it might be like to be a race car driver. The highest drop was of 73 meters, and the fastest speed was about 130 km/hour. Yeah. My feet didn't touch the bottom of the carriage, and at many points on going from fast up to fast down, my bottom was no longer touching the seat. I was weightless for a few milliseconds, which was a calming and soothing feeling compared to the rush of going down and speeding around the corners.
Why do we subject ourselves ON PURPOSE to fear and adrenaline? I think it is to help train us in real life when we are in stressful situations. Heck, if you can handle up to 4-5 G and travel a little over a kilometer in less than 90 seconds, you can handle big-wig meetings and other situations with a calm reserve.
Fear is good sometimes!
What amazes me is the adrenaline and fear I felt on going on one of these blockbuster rides, designed to emulate what it might be like to be a race car driver. The highest drop was of 73 meters, and the fastest speed was about 130 km/hour. Yeah. My feet didn't touch the bottom of the carriage, and at many points on going from fast up to fast down, my bottom was no longer touching the seat. I was weightless for a few milliseconds, which was a calming and soothing feeling compared to the rush of going down and speeding around the corners.
Why do we subject ourselves ON PURPOSE to fear and adrenaline? I think it is to help train us in real life when we are in stressful situations. Heck, if you can handle up to 4-5 G and travel a little over a kilometer in less than 90 seconds, you can handle big-wig meetings and other situations with a calm reserve.
Fear is good sometimes!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Flaws
Writing Prompt: character flaw: generosity ---
Diane put the gear shift down as she maneuvered the rental sports car down the steep slope towards the coastline. The US Route 1 coastal road was tricky driving, but she loved the challenge. She also loved spending her more than generous advance from her number #1 client on her first weekend getaway in over a year in Northern California. She had left the office early this glorious late May Friday afternoon so she could pick up the convertible. She would try to make it up at least half way towards Tahoe City and the lake by dinner time. But first she'd take the drive up to Point Reyes National Seashore, and enjoy the winding roads with the salty ocean breezing by on her left. Then she'd turn inland at Tamales, back towards the highway. She could be in her cabin around sundown, 9 pm, she thought, thinking of those sparkling waters and off in the distance the mountains. She was on top of her world, California dreaming, and enjoying her new found freedom as a freelance consultant.
Her cell phone rang. Diane woke from the road and hesitated briefly before looking at the phone on its cradle. She had splurged on all the latest gadgets for her phone and transfered them to the rental, and could use the hands-free. She grinned at the thought; the purchase was one of her earliest struggles as a freelancer with spending money on technology. She struggled in the beginning, but now fully understood the principle you had to spend money to make money. She slowed down, let a few cars behind her pass, and answered the phone. Lo and behold, it was her #1 client! Diane smiled into the rear-view mirror.
The smile quickly turned into a frown as it seemed her client was very upset and frantic. Her client seemingly was stuck in Sacramento. Could Diane come get her? Diane listened patiently to her client while trying to work out calm thoughts and logistics in her head. A personal issue had put Diane's #1 client in an awkward position. Matters got worse when she was trying to get out of the situation, her client's purse was stolen as she was walking to the taxi station. At least she had her cell phone sensibly clipped to her belt, like the other male executives at her company. Lose everything else, even your mind, but be damned if you lose contact or communication capability.
Diane would go. She reset the GPS in the convertible to Sacramento instead of Point Reyes. It could wait. Her client could not. Diane sighed heavily, and regretted taking her client for granted earlier, the advance was almost like a blackmail to be at her client's beck and call. With a heavy heart, she knew would not make it to Lake Tahoe by sundown. Perhaps if things go well and Diane can help patch things up, her client will from now on be loyal, less nit-picky, and actually listen to Diane and take her expertise into account. Diane would try harder to see through false generosity. The lovely coastline drive would have to wait for Diane, until next year.
***************
"Some people think any sign (or any presumed sign) of weakness or human error/frailty must be rejected--not just the flaw, but the entire human. It is like dismissing Martin Luther King, Jr. as something less than laudatory because he committed adultery.
It is not simply judgmental, but a fatal flaw in one's own objectivity. Because no one is perfect. If we try our best every day to make the world a little bit better...that's all we can ask of ourselves."
- Skin-to-Skin, May 8, 2008
Diane put the gear shift down as she maneuvered the rental sports car down the steep slope towards the coastline. The US Route 1 coastal road was tricky driving, but she loved the challenge. She also loved spending her more than generous advance from her number #1 client on her first weekend getaway in over a year in Northern California. She had left the office early this glorious late May Friday afternoon so she could pick up the convertible. She would try to make it up at least half way towards Tahoe City and the lake by dinner time. But first she'd take the drive up to Point Reyes National Seashore, and enjoy the winding roads with the salty ocean breezing by on her left. Then she'd turn inland at Tamales, back towards the highway. She could be in her cabin around sundown, 9 pm, she thought, thinking of those sparkling waters and off in the distance the mountains. She was on top of her world, California dreaming, and enjoying her new found freedom as a freelance consultant.
Her cell phone rang. Diane woke from the road and hesitated briefly before looking at the phone on its cradle. She had splurged on all the latest gadgets for her phone and transfered them to the rental, and could use the hands-free. She grinned at the thought; the purchase was one of her earliest struggles as a freelancer with spending money on technology. She struggled in the beginning, but now fully understood the principle you had to spend money to make money. She slowed down, let a few cars behind her pass, and answered the phone. Lo and behold, it was her #1 client! Diane smiled into the rear-view mirror.
The smile quickly turned into a frown as it seemed her client was very upset and frantic. Her client seemingly was stuck in Sacramento. Could Diane come get her? Diane listened patiently to her client while trying to work out calm thoughts and logistics in her head. A personal issue had put Diane's #1 client in an awkward position. Matters got worse when she was trying to get out of the situation, her client's purse was stolen as she was walking to the taxi station. At least she had her cell phone sensibly clipped to her belt, like the other male executives at her company. Lose everything else, even your mind, but be damned if you lose contact or communication capability.
Diane would go. She reset the GPS in the convertible to Sacramento instead of Point Reyes. It could wait. Her client could not. Diane sighed heavily, and regretted taking her client for granted earlier, the advance was almost like a blackmail to be at her client's beck and call. With a heavy heart, she knew would not make it to Lake Tahoe by sundown. Perhaps if things go well and Diane can help patch things up, her client will from now on be loyal, less nit-picky, and actually listen to Diane and take her expertise into account. Diane would try harder to see through false generosity. The lovely coastline drive would have to wait for Diane, until next year.
***************
"Some people think any sign (or any presumed sign) of weakness or human error/frailty must be rejected--not just the flaw, but the entire human. It is like dismissing Martin Luther King, Jr. as something less than laudatory because he committed adultery.
It is not simply judgmental, but a fatal flaw in one's own objectivity. Because no one is perfect. If we try our best every day to make the world a little bit better...that's all we can ask of ourselves."
- Skin-to-Skin, May 8, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Doors
This morning, I spent some laughable minutes watching my cat trying to open the bedroom door. She spies it, judges the height, is focused and ready with her hindlegs haunched, and then, boiiing! Up!
She jumps up and clasps the handle with her front paws, and just for a minuscule of time, she is actually hanging on to the handle. Letting her weight and gravity bring the handle down, she tries to open the door. Back on the ground, she gives the door a gentle push. This has worked before. Unfortunately for her this time, the door is locked. After a few tries, she attempts to jiggle the key with one outstretched paw, but to no avail. Poor kitty doesn't know yet how to turn the key the right way. She really wants to sleep on our nice comfy and clean bedsheets, away from the other noisy cat. She'll come back and try later. Perhaps the door will be unlocked then.
Sometimes I wonder if I am not a "kitty" myself, trying to open a door that is locked. I am trying to figure out as well how to to open my own doors, sitting comfortably in front of my computer. How do I turn the proverbial key? Why do I desire to open a particular door more than another? Aren't there just more doors and jumps and keys to find and figure out how to open?
Watching Kitty door opening is a lot like watching or playing a video game. For example, Crash Bandicoot, my nephew's favorite. There are all sorts of things and doors and tricks you have to figure out how to play to get more points, to win. It is just fun playing the game. Sometimes, it is enjoyable to watch him get a bit frustrated when he can't jump over the bridge or whatever it is to get to the next level to get some diamond or clue. But it is cute, his frustration, because he is learning. (No I am not a sadistic aunt who enjoys seeing beings frustrated and denied because they don't know how to "open a door"or "jump").
That is what is so amazing for me. We are all on different parts of the learning spectrum, some of us have clearly mastered "jumping" and "turning keys" to open doors of opportunities for themselves, and some have clearly not mastered it and are still frustrated, and have feelings of anxiety and nervousness because of this repeated denial or rejection. What I am trying to say is that, no matter where we are on this spectrum, we have to feedback -- help those who haven't mastered, and learn from those who have.
Try another door. Try another key. Try another angle to jump. Change your motivation. Change what you want and need. Just don't ever give up!
However, I can't stand those masters of "jumping" who say "Just Do It!" or "it's easy once you know how". The simple knowledge or ability is clearly not enough, and it actually may differ from person to person. It takes time, it takes patience, and it takes lots and lots of experience to know thy self and to know why we are trying to open particular doors. Perhaps once we know this why, the solution (i.e., the key that opens the door) will come to us much more easily, or we will decide consciously to seek another door, as the reasons are no longer compelling enough.
"Because I can" is not a rational reason. Doors are there, obstacles are there for a reason, but we may not know why all the time. And perhaps that is for the best, as we keep on learning...
She jumps up and clasps the handle with her front paws, and just for a minuscule of time, she is actually hanging on to the handle. Letting her weight and gravity bring the handle down, she tries to open the door. Back on the ground, she gives the door a gentle push. This has worked before. Unfortunately for her this time, the door is locked. After a few tries, she attempts to jiggle the key with one outstretched paw, but to no avail. Poor kitty doesn't know yet how to turn the key the right way. She really wants to sleep on our nice comfy and clean bedsheets, away from the other noisy cat. She'll come back and try later. Perhaps the door will be unlocked then.
Sometimes I wonder if I am not a "kitty" myself, trying to open a door that is locked. I am trying to figure out as well how to to open my own doors, sitting comfortably in front of my computer. How do I turn the proverbial key? Why do I desire to open a particular door more than another? Aren't there just more doors and jumps and keys to find and figure out how to open?
Watching Kitty door opening is a lot like watching or playing a video game. For example, Crash Bandicoot, my nephew's favorite. There are all sorts of things and doors and tricks you have to figure out how to play to get more points, to win. It is just fun playing the game. Sometimes, it is enjoyable to watch him get a bit frustrated when he can't jump over the bridge or whatever it is to get to the next level to get some diamond or clue. But it is cute, his frustration, because he is learning. (No I am not a sadistic aunt who enjoys seeing beings frustrated and denied because they don't know how to "open a door"or "jump").
That is what is so amazing for me. We are all on different parts of the learning spectrum, some of us have clearly mastered "jumping" and "turning keys" to open doors of opportunities for themselves, and some have clearly not mastered it and are still frustrated, and have feelings of anxiety and nervousness because of this repeated denial or rejection. What I am trying to say is that, no matter where we are on this spectrum, we have to feedback -- help those who haven't mastered, and learn from those who have.
Try another door. Try another key. Try another angle to jump. Change your motivation. Change what you want and need. Just don't ever give up!
However, I can't stand those masters of "jumping" who say "Just Do It!" or "it's easy once you know how". The simple knowledge or ability is clearly not enough, and it actually may differ from person to person. It takes time, it takes patience, and it takes lots and lots of experience to know thy self and to know why we are trying to open particular doors. Perhaps once we know this why, the solution (i.e., the key that opens the door) will come to us much more easily, or we will decide consciously to seek another door, as the reasons are no longer compelling enough.
"Because I can" is not a rational reason. Doors are there, obstacles are there for a reason, but we may not know why all the time. And perhaps that is for the best, as we keep on learning...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Plodding along
It just feels like plodding along today. Writing and writing. What I do in between inspiration... the other 99% of the time is just pure "work" (hardly working having fun!). But it is in the sense the words come, but aren't coherent, or consistent yet in voice or theme.
Getting to synthesis, i.e. when I am really cooking is taking a while. I feel like I am just a simmering pot, a watched one at that. Will I ever be done??? Ah Tom Petty said it best, "the waiting is the hardest part".
I like slow-cooked foods they seem tastier or less tough to swallow. All this talk of food, none of this talk of writing. Remember how we brought up the concept of linear processes and recipes? Well here we are again, full circle. This is the strangest pot of non-linear stew I've made. Well there are thankfully lots of variety in my kitchen, and mostly healthy. Mostly!
NOTE: I have progress to report. I've put together realistic scenes probably for the first 2/5 or 1/3 of the scenes that will be needed for the novel. These scenes will help me considerably, and are better than the outline (spider gram) I had so far, which didn't really do the job for me.
Have a bit of business work and helping out friend for the next two or three days, but then I plan to get my other writing organized and cleaned up, with a publication strategy and plan. Woo hoo! I definitely need to do this before mid-May. That would be a good Mother's Day present, eh??
Getting to synthesis, i.e. when I am really cooking is taking a while. I feel like I am just a simmering pot, a watched one at that. Will I ever be done??? Ah Tom Petty said it best, "the waiting is the hardest part".
I like slow-cooked foods they seem tastier or less tough to swallow. All this talk of food, none of this talk of writing. Remember how we brought up the concept of linear processes and recipes? Well here we are again, full circle. This is the strangest pot of non-linear stew I've made. Well there are thankfully lots of variety in my kitchen, and mostly healthy. Mostly!
NOTE: I have progress to report. I've put together realistic scenes probably for the first 2/5 or 1/3 of the scenes that will be needed for the novel. These scenes will help me considerably, and are better than the outline (spider gram) I had so far, which didn't really do the job for me.
Have a bit of business work and helping out friend for the next two or three days, but then I plan to get my other writing organized and cleaned up, with a publication strategy and plan. Woo hoo! I definitely need to do this before mid-May. That would be a good Mother's Day present, eh??
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Sorry!!
It's been a busy week or two since my last write on this here blog. Got a bit of a headway on the book thing, went to a workshop on Developing and Understanding Plot, and feel like I have to re-write everything I already wrote. Which actually is a good thing.
Will put up a reading list shortly too, have a place mark for it. Books I am reading or think will help me in my endeavor to re-invent myself or become a writer.
In other news, the science and health business writing is starting to take shape. So hopefully in a few months it will look like 30% science (including marketing), 30% creative (including blogging), and 30% personal time for me (including sleep!) , and 10% for everyone else ;-)
My friend's son turned 1 years old today! What a great birthday party! I wonder how much the kid will remember? I guess it is just association with happy feelings. Oh that boy looked so happy!!!
Will put up a reading list shortly too, have a place mark for it. Books I am reading or think will help me in my endeavor to re-invent myself or become a writer.
In other news, the science and health business writing is starting to take shape. So hopefully in a few months it will look like 30% science (including marketing), 30% creative (including blogging), and 30% personal time for me (including sleep!) , and 10% for everyone else ;-)
My friend's son turned 1 years old today! What a great birthday party! I wonder how much the kid will remember? I guess it is just association with happy feelings. Oh that boy looked so happy!!!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
I've won the lottery
Today's feature is about winning the lottery and what it means:
I heard a story about a 25 year old Welsh man who won 2 million (pounds or dollars I am not sure), who after two years of relaxing, decided to go back to work at... McDonald's. He says McDonald's makes him happy, and "there's only so much relaxing you can do!" Good for him. Of course we don't know if or how he spent all that money or if he still has some left, but he is young, and apparently couldn't find a better job with his previous qualifications.
In a way, I have won the lottery too. I asked myself this, when I had the decision of one of three options:
1) improve my average job performance in the short-term and continue with the 3 month plan of unpaid leave, with the expectation that I'd be back at high performance levels,
2) quit immediately, or
3) get fired
what would I do if I won the lottery (say 2 million dollars)? What would I do if I wasn't afraid? What would I do if the money (or legal permission to stay, or having the less than my ideal boss, or less than my ideal working conditions, etc.) didn't matter?
By asking these questions, I found out I didn't enjoy my work and environment enough to stay, short-term or long-term. It wasn't only the high pressure, demanding nature of the job that got to me. I just didn't care about the work. If the money didn't matter, and I know what I know now, I would no longer choose to work there. If I wasn't afraid of what would happen to me, I would simply quit.
Obviously, when I first took the job 2 years ago, I chose to work there, and it was really great for a while. I really loved it. But after two years, things changed for me, within me, and around me. Now, when faced with the choice, I couldn't pull myself together in the short-term to truly pull off Option 1, and I didn't really want to deal with Option 3 on my "record" so to speak, so I had to choose Option 2. Clear as crystal.
I know now that I can carve out work for myself on things I do enjoy, and freelance & consult for work when I need to pay the bills. I am highly qualified, have paid my dues in that line of work, and I no longer need to be stuck doing something I didn't truly enjoy doing.
I am enjoying life and my work now. I now have the time to pursue my hobbies and fulfill my dreams of being an author of essays and novels. Maybe I am not that young anymore, but I am not scared or afraid, and I have a little faith left in my back pocket...
So, what's stopping you from dreaming your dream?
I would go even one step further and challenge everyone to find what makes you happy and do the things you love as if the money didn't matter. Of course, it helps to pay your dues and get the qualifications you need, to say be an astronaut for example. You have to develop coping strategies to deal with all the crap people throw at you, from strangers and even your own family, and believe in yourself, and have faith that you know you are doing the right thing for you.
I contend that people who work that hard to be an flight pilot or an astronaut or doctor or lawyer are not doing it for the money. (If they are, they are insane). They simply love it and it shows through the people who love working with them.
There is absolutely no reason today why a situation that brings disappointment and unhappiness can't be changed. None, not age, not gender, not where you live or your genetic pre-dispositions. Don't play the victim, "woe is me", it is just boring. It just requires total commitment and resolve to bring about the changes that are needed in you (mostly, I would say your attitude) to get to where you want to be.
Are you loving it??
Tomorrow, I will write about "Process Development: The Stages"
I heard a story about a 25 year old Welsh man who won 2 million (pounds or dollars I am not sure), who after two years of relaxing, decided to go back to work at... McDonald's. He says McDonald's makes him happy, and "there's only so much relaxing you can do!" Good for him. Of course we don't know if or how he spent all that money or if he still has some left, but he is young, and apparently couldn't find a better job with his previous qualifications.
In a way, I have won the lottery too. I asked myself this, when I had the decision of one of three options:
1) improve my average job performance in the short-term and continue with the 3 month plan of unpaid leave, with the expectation that I'd be back at high performance levels,
2) quit immediately, or
3) get fired
what would I do if I won the lottery (say 2 million dollars)? What would I do if I wasn't afraid? What would I do if the money (or legal permission to stay, or having the less than my ideal boss, or less than my ideal working conditions, etc.) didn't matter?
By asking these questions, I found out I didn't enjoy my work and environment enough to stay, short-term or long-term. It wasn't only the high pressure, demanding nature of the job that got to me. I just didn't care about the work. If the money didn't matter, and I know what I know now, I would no longer choose to work there. If I wasn't afraid of what would happen to me, I would simply quit.
Obviously, when I first took the job 2 years ago, I chose to work there, and it was really great for a while. I really loved it. But after two years, things changed for me, within me, and around me. Now, when faced with the choice, I couldn't pull myself together in the short-term to truly pull off Option 1, and I didn't really want to deal with Option 3 on my "record" so to speak, so I had to choose Option 2. Clear as crystal.
I know now that I can carve out work for myself on things I do enjoy, and freelance & consult for work when I need to pay the bills. I am highly qualified, have paid my dues in that line of work, and I no longer need to be stuck doing something I didn't truly enjoy doing.
I am enjoying life and my work now. I now have the time to pursue my hobbies and fulfill my dreams of being an author of essays and novels. Maybe I am not that young anymore, but I am not scared or afraid, and I have a little faith left in my back pocket...
So, what's stopping you from dreaming your dream?
I would go even one step further and challenge everyone to find what makes you happy and do the things you love as if the money didn't matter. Of course, it helps to pay your dues and get the qualifications you need, to say be an astronaut for example. You have to develop coping strategies to deal with all the crap people throw at you, from strangers and even your own family, and believe in yourself, and have faith that you know you are doing the right thing for you.
I contend that people who work that hard to be an flight pilot or an astronaut or doctor or lawyer are not doing it for the money. (If they are, they are insane). They simply love it and it shows through the people who love working with them.
There is absolutely no reason today why a situation that brings disappointment and unhappiness can't be changed. None, not age, not gender, not where you live or your genetic pre-dispositions. Don't play the victim, "woe is me", it is just boring. It just requires total commitment and resolve to bring about the changes that are needed in you (mostly, I would say your attitude) to get to where you want to be.
Are you loving it??
Tomorrow, I will write about "Process Development: The Stages"
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Orange Juice
Fresh orange juice in the morning is super. I just wish it also had caffeine. That would be something, to combine the yummy taste of OJ with the power of coffee. It would help cut down on the consumption of liquids in the morning, just in case you were stuck on the train for an hour or so.
I hope you enjoyed the series on "The Woman with Half a Smile". It was about 2500 words, and had only 5% passive voice. Which is pretty good for me, as in my previous life, all I wrote in was in passive voice. I want to clean it up and see if someone is interested in publishing out there in the big blue marble, but not so stressed about it. It was more a practice exercise for me.
Let's see, progress? The home writing office is taking shape. It's still a colossal mess with papers strewn everywhere and bags needing to be sorted. The publication plan is still a bit a ways off (target April 30), and the book is culminating slowly like a mild tropical storm (target full very rough draft 1 August) Also, I have lots of essays and smaller things started, but many miles to go before they sleep: they need to be finished, polished, incubated, shared, re-written, and finalized.
Getting resources together seems to be difficult, but it may be I haven't tried hard enough yet. I am still pacing myself, and this week is still considered a vacation / testing ground week.
Next week, the real jobs begin! Of course if you feel like commenting at any time feel free to do so by pressing the comments button (looks like a little envelope I believe).
Catch up more tomorrow,
TheWriterEngineer or TheEngineerWriter (feeling a bit dyslexic this morning, need more coffee!!!)
I hope you enjoyed the series on "The Woman with Half a Smile". It was about 2500 words, and had only 5% passive voice. Which is pretty good for me, as in my previous life, all I wrote in was in passive voice. I want to clean it up and see if someone is interested in publishing out there in the big blue marble, but not so stressed about it. It was more a practice exercise for me.
Let's see, progress? The home writing office is taking shape. It's still a colossal mess with papers strewn everywhere and bags needing to be sorted. The publication plan is still a bit a ways off (target April 30), and the book is culminating slowly like a mild tropical storm (target full very rough draft 1 August) Also, I have lots of essays and smaller things started, but many miles to go before they sleep: they need to be finished, polished, incubated, shared, re-written, and finalized.
Getting resources together seems to be difficult, but it may be I haven't tried hard enough yet. I am still pacing myself, and this week is still considered a vacation / testing ground week.
Next week, the real jobs begin! Of course if you feel like commenting at any time feel free to do so by pressing the comments button (looks like a little envelope I believe).
Catch up more tomorrow,
TheWriterEngineer or TheEngineerWriter (feeling a bit dyslexic this morning, need more coffee!!!)
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The Woman with Half a Smile: Part 3
Coping: On and Off Sick Leave
After her boyfriend left for work in the still early March morning of wintry darkness, the weary now half frowning woman dragged herself out of the shuttered bedroom. Somehow she managed to fall asleep last night in her clothes, she must have been really tired, she grumbled. She only vaguely remembered her boyfriend stopping to put eye cream in her bad eye this morning. She felt her face, the eye patch was still there. Sighing heavily, she noisily padded over to the living room in her pink slippers, not paying attention to where the cats were. Thankfully they managed to avoid her steps. They sensed she wasn't to be toyed with this morning.
Her computer, with its pulsing soft white standby light and mirror-like screen, beckoned to her. She patted it sadly as if it was a forelorn lost puppy, unable to find its owner and go play. Doctor's orders, she said and then briefly stopped to wonder if she really said it out loud. The past two days were somewhat challenging -- she didn't feel good enough to go out to meet or call on friends, but she was trying to keep herself busy by NOT watching tv, reading, working on the computer -- so she sometimes talked to herself out loud. She felt like she was going a little batty being alone in the apartment with only two cats, stewing in her own juices.
This morning, she had to go to the eye doctor by herself. Should be an adventure she drudged. In the afternoon she scheduled a hair cut appointment as a reward. Getting going in the morning, however, still proved to be hard for her, half paralyzed face or not, older and wiser or not. She made herself a breakfast of cold cereal and soy milk and checked that the cats had enough food. She went back in to the living room and plopped on the sofa, pushing the sensible cats off. She ate and stared at the dormant tv.
After finishing the cereal and leaving the rest of the milk, placing the bowl on the floor for the cats, she finally got up to raise the blinds in the living room. Sideways and driving, blotchy white flecks flew past the window and collected on the railing of her balcony and last year's dead plants. She took a deep breath, and completely inside, smiled; this was the first snow she had seen all winter. Even with one good eye, she could enjoy the sight of the lightly frosted trees on the other side of the street, the white capped cars down below. She stepped out on to the balcony, still in her thick pink slippers and let the small sharp ice pieces hit her face. It felt good, but it was cold! Refreshed after a few seconds, she scurried back in and started to get ready for the rest of the day. Quickly she thought, as even the public transportation might be slow and caught off guard by the white surprise. When she finally was ready to leave the apartment, she caught the sight of her two cats ardently watching the sky and the snow, from the safe warm distance of the window ledge. Heartened and refreshed, the new events helped remind her that she was still blessed with so much.
When she came home after the day's appointments, she called her boyfriend. In the end, it was a good day, she relayed to him, even though she was dragging in the morning. He laughed and tried to tell her how sleepy and grumpy she was this morning while he was trying to get her up and out. Nevertheless, he would be home soon, and she hoped he liked her new haircut and color. The patch was still there but somehow she minded less today. With the images in her head from the morning's snow over the city and the silhouettes of her ponderous cats looking on, she couldn't help but smile a nice reddish beet purple feeling all over and inside. She started to prepare dinner, and was glad to be on the way to being fine.
The following week, she was back at work, half days. The doctor had asked her to take it easy as the strain on her eyes was significant, as she was really using only her good eye to see on the computer and read. Her left eye did not completely close yet, and the patch would have to stay on another week, at least. Her eye at least felt less dry and itchy. The alternative to the patch would not have worked for her, she was squeamish about eye drops and every half hour would be impossible!
She started to feel small twitches or ghosts in her muscles on the left side of her face. Things were progressing slowly, but the woman with half a smile on the outside knew now that, however physically she might look, she could always be smiling inside. No one could take that away from her, she knew what she knew now so thoroughly and believed it. Only she could make herself better now. She would think positively no matter the circumstances. Only the good stuff from now on, she thought happily.
After a strange week of not working at all, to working only 50%, she was actually glad she had Bell's Palsy when she did. Her clients didn't seem to mind and her work colleagues seemed also happy to take up the slack. The illness made her job of handing over all her projects actually much easier and faster -- perhaps painful, like ripping off a bandage -- but it was necessary.
The truth sometimes does hurt, and she knew that quitting was the right thing to do to be true to herself. She just needed an extra push to remind her how blessed she was already with or without gainful employment. The Palsy did that. Strange but true. she thought, as she sent out her last good bye email. She stopped by her boss's office and recounted her outstanding projects and to whom she left in charge, as well as how she was coping with the facial paralysis. A few more doctor's appointments, neurologist, and eye doctors, physiotherapy, but no, still no definite cause could be found. That's okay, she smiled as plainly as she could to her unbelieving boss, as somethings happen for a reason even if we don't understand what those reasons are. We go on and survive and thrive, that's life.
That's life!
After her boyfriend left for work in the still early March morning of wintry darkness, the weary now half frowning woman dragged herself out of the shuttered bedroom. Somehow she managed to fall asleep last night in her clothes, she must have been really tired, she grumbled. She only vaguely remembered her boyfriend stopping to put eye cream in her bad eye this morning. She felt her face, the eye patch was still there. Sighing heavily, she noisily padded over to the living room in her pink slippers, not paying attention to where the cats were. Thankfully they managed to avoid her steps. They sensed she wasn't to be toyed with this morning.
Her computer, with its pulsing soft white standby light and mirror-like screen, beckoned to her. She patted it sadly as if it was a forelorn lost puppy, unable to find its owner and go play. Doctor's orders, she said and then briefly stopped to wonder if she really said it out loud. The past two days were somewhat challenging -- she didn't feel good enough to go out to meet or call on friends, but she was trying to keep herself busy by NOT watching tv, reading, working on the computer -- so she sometimes talked to herself out loud. She felt like she was going a little batty being alone in the apartment with only two cats, stewing in her own juices.
This morning, she had to go to the eye doctor by herself. Should be an adventure she drudged. In the afternoon she scheduled a hair cut appointment as a reward. Getting going in the morning, however, still proved to be hard for her, half paralyzed face or not, older and wiser or not. She made herself a breakfast of cold cereal and soy milk and checked that the cats had enough food. She went back in to the living room and plopped on the sofa, pushing the sensible cats off. She ate and stared at the dormant tv.
After finishing the cereal and leaving the rest of the milk, placing the bowl on the floor for the cats, she finally got up to raise the blinds in the living room. Sideways and driving, blotchy white flecks flew past the window and collected on the railing of her balcony and last year's dead plants. She took a deep breath, and completely inside, smiled; this was the first snow she had seen all winter. Even with one good eye, she could enjoy the sight of the lightly frosted trees on the other side of the street, the white capped cars down below. She stepped out on to the balcony, still in her thick pink slippers and let the small sharp ice pieces hit her face. It felt good, but it was cold! Refreshed after a few seconds, she scurried back in and started to get ready for the rest of the day. Quickly she thought, as even the public transportation might be slow and caught off guard by the white surprise. When she finally was ready to leave the apartment, she caught the sight of her two cats ardently watching the sky and the snow, from the safe warm distance of the window ledge. Heartened and refreshed, the new events helped remind her that she was still blessed with so much.
When she came home after the day's appointments, she called her boyfriend. In the end, it was a good day, she relayed to him, even though she was dragging in the morning. He laughed and tried to tell her how sleepy and grumpy she was this morning while he was trying to get her up and out. Nevertheless, he would be home soon, and she hoped he liked her new haircut and color. The patch was still there but somehow she minded less today. With the images in her head from the morning's snow over the city and the silhouettes of her ponderous cats looking on, she couldn't help but smile a nice reddish beet purple feeling all over and inside. She started to prepare dinner, and was glad to be on the way to being fine.
The following week, she was back at work, half days. The doctor had asked her to take it easy as the strain on her eyes was significant, as she was really using only her good eye to see on the computer and read. Her left eye did not completely close yet, and the patch would have to stay on another week, at least. Her eye at least felt less dry and itchy. The alternative to the patch would not have worked for her, she was squeamish about eye drops and every half hour would be impossible!
She started to feel small twitches or ghosts in her muscles on the left side of her face. Things were progressing slowly, but the woman with half a smile on the outside knew now that, however physically she might look, she could always be smiling inside. No one could take that away from her, she knew what she knew now so thoroughly and believed it. Only she could make herself better now. She would think positively no matter the circumstances. Only the good stuff from now on, she thought happily.
After a strange week of not working at all, to working only 50%, she was actually glad she had Bell's Palsy when she did. Her clients didn't seem to mind and her work colleagues seemed also happy to take up the slack. The illness made her job of handing over all her projects actually much easier and faster -- perhaps painful, like ripping off a bandage -- but it was necessary.
The truth sometimes does hurt, and she knew that quitting was the right thing to do to be true to herself. She just needed an extra push to remind her how blessed she was already with or without gainful employment. The Palsy did that. Strange but true. she thought, as she sent out her last good bye email. She stopped by her boss's office and recounted her outstanding projects and to whom she left in charge, as well as how she was coping with the facial paralysis. A few more doctor's appointments, neurologist, and eye doctors, physiotherapy, but no, still no definite cause could be found. That's okay, she smiled as plainly as she could to her unbelieving boss, as somethings happen for a reason even if we don't understand what those reasons are. We go on and survive and thrive, that's life.
That's life!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The Woman with Half a Smile: Part 2
Coming to Terms with It
After a full day of feeling sorry for herself alone and stewing in her thoughts, the woman with half a smile picked up the phone and made a mental list of who she should call and in what order. She decided to call her sister-in-law first, but no one was home. She left a message, trying to code it a bit, so that if the kids were there listening when the answering machine sputtered out her voice, they wouldn't worry about Aunt Tiny being sick. She remembered only then her brother was away on business. Just as well, she thought, as her sister-in-law was better at comforting her now, and she'll know how to react, she's a PA.
Trying her best not to over-exert her healthy half of a smile, Aunt Tiny laid her head back down on the couch and thought about her brother's family and the happy times they shared. Her nephew would be seven years old soon. She made another mental note to find out exactly when her nephew's birthday was, as her mind seemed to be flooded with other junk at the moment. To think back when he was a baby, how she savored the smell, the tender touch, the weight of him in her arms as she sung a lullaby to him in the nursery rocking chair. Amazing how in seven years, the bundle of love has grown to develop dreams and wishes and fears of his own, fluidly and without strain. From the outside, his fears may seem temporary and ever changing as the sculpting of a fairly new river bed, downpouring from a fresh source. These childhood fears, if strained and not seen with love, can become fixations and have a lasting permanency, she thought. He'll be alright, she brightened, he will not be like me.
She then tried to reach her good friend who lived an hour away. Stuck at home with a 6 month old baby, her friend was there for her and did all the talking and soothing. There was nothing else anybody could do. She only had to do what the good doctors said, and everything will resolve on its own. There were homeopaths and other kinds of therapists, her friend let her know if she wanted to go and believe in them, they could help her. Trust and belief, in the end that's what it is all about, she thought, half unblinking and staring out the window as she rehashed what had happened -- all of it -- all of the past 9 months to her friend. How she lost her trust in her work and boss, and could only have so many commitments. She chose herself, her health, and her only love, over those "mad people". Her friend agreed, having met the boss once or twice, that she had her priorities straight.
Relieved and still twiddling with the plastic bubble -- the foggy and sticky eye patch -- encompassing what seemed like the entire left half of her small face, she went over to hug her boyfriend. He was cleaning and tidying up something what she couldn't see very well. "What was that for?" he asked. "For just being here," she beamed. I am so blessed, she thought, with a warm pink glow overtaking her. "It's time for us to go to the clinic get your eye checked again, I want to make sure you know how to go on your own" he replied calmly, his large gray, cerulean eyes smiling. There never was such a more beautiful and nameless color, she thought.
After returning home from the hospital for the second time, she finally reached her sister-in-law. Her sister-in-law confirmed everything she heard, and also told her how not uncommon it was, that her mother had it too recently. Her story told yet again, the woman with half a smile felt tired from another long day it seemed.
The most curious thing was something her sister-in-law said, after she had told her that the doctor gave her a 100% sick leave note for one whole week. "Yes, that's not a bad idea. You may be feeling a bit self-conscious, and have to come to terms with it..." Self-conscious she was, she felt that on the bus back from the hospital, everyone was staring at her, wondering what contagion was under that horrible putrid-looking eye patch. But come to terms? What?
After almost a half day of not having self-pitying feelings, the woman did not understand why she had to come to terms with it, but was curious anyway. They told her it shouldn't be permanent, and perhaps some discomfort will come with doing normal daily things like eating, looking at the computer or TV. She was unbelievably grateful for not having to go to work and deal with the workload and clients, but what would she do with herself? She planned getting her hair colored and cut with her wonderfully gay hairdresser, a nice total body massage, going to the gym, sleeping lots, playing with her two cats. Surely that was enough to keep her mind off of it and not have to deal with the consequences of having half your face paralyzed?
Next: Coping -- On and Off Sick Leave
After a full day of feeling sorry for herself alone and stewing in her thoughts, the woman with half a smile picked up the phone and made a mental list of who she should call and in what order. She decided to call her sister-in-law first, but no one was home. She left a message, trying to code it a bit, so that if the kids were there listening when the answering machine sputtered out her voice, they wouldn't worry about Aunt Tiny being sick. She remembered only then her brother was away on business. Just as well, she thought, as her sister-in-law was better at comforting her now, and she'll know how to react, she's a PA.
Trying her best not to over-exert her healthy half of a smile, Aunt Tiny laid her head back down on the couch and thought about her brother's family and the happy times they shared. Her nephew would be seven years old soon. She made another mental note to find out exactly when her nephew's birthday was, as her mind seemed to be flooded with other junk at the moment. To think back when he was a baby, how she savored the smell, the tender touch, the weight of him in her arms as she sung a lullaby to him in the nursery rocking chair. Amazing how in seven years, the bundle of love has grown to develop dreams and wishes and fears of his own, fluidly and without strain. From the outside, his fears may seem temporary and ever changing as the sculpting of a fairly new river bed, downpouring from a fresh source. These childhood fears, if strained and not seen with love, can become fixations and have a lasting permanency, she thought. He'll be alright, she brightened, he will not be like me.
She then tried to reach her good friend who lived an hour away. Stuck at home with a 6 month old baby, her friend was there for her and did all the talking and soothing. There was nothing else anybody could do. She only had to do what the good doctors said, and everything will resolve on its own. There were homeopaths and other kinds of therapists, her friend let her know if she wanted to go and believe in them, they could help her. Trust and belief, in the end that's what it is all about, she thought, half unblinking and staring out the window as she rehashed what had happened -- all of it -- all of the past 9 months to her friend. How she lost her trust in her work and boss, and could only have so many commitments. She chose herself, her health, and her only love, over those "mad people". Her friend agreed, having met the boss once or twice, that she had her priorities straight.
Relieved and still twiddling with the plastic bubble -- the foggy and sticky eye patch -- encompassing what seemed like the entire left half of her small face, she went over to hug her boyfriend. He was cleaning and tidying up something what she couldn't see very well. "What was that for?" he asked. "For just being here," she beamed. I am so blessed, she thought, with a warm pink glow overtaking her. "It's time for us to go to the clinic get your eye checked again, I want to make sure you know how to go on your own" he replied calmly, his large gray, cerulean eyes smiling. There never was such a more beautiful and nameless color, she thought.
After returning home from the hospital for the second time, she finally reached her sister-in-law. Her sister-in-law confirmed everything she heard, and also told her how not uncommon it was, that her mother had it too recently. Her story told yet again, the woman with half a smile felt tired from another long day it seemed.
The most curious thing was something her sister-in-law said, after she had told her that the doctor gave her a 100% sick leave note for one whole week. "Yes, that's not a bad idea. You may be feeling a bit self-conscious, and have to come to terms with it..." Self-conscious she was, she felt that on the bus back from the hospital, everyone was staring at her, wondering what contagion was under that horrible putrid-looking eye patch. But come to terms? What?
After almost a half day of not having self-pitying feelings, the woman did not understand why she had to come to terms with it, but was curious anyway. They told her it shouldn't be permanent, and perhaps some discomfort will come with doing normal daily things like eating, looking at the computer or TV. She was unbelievably grateful for not having to go to work and deal with the workload and clients, but what would she do with herself? She planned getting her hair colored and cut with her wonderfully gay hairdresser, a nice total body massage, going to the gym, sleeping lots, playing with her two cats. Surely that was enough to keep her mind off of it and not have to deal with the consequences of having half your face paralyzed?
Next: Coping -- On and Off Sick Leave
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
And Still...
Exhausted today, and still I must write. I love it. I was up late last night helping my partner with booking our mini-vacation to Barcelona, and writing... and got up again this morning to do more writing. It feels so nice.
When tension has stored in a spring for so long, it is always the same amount of energy that is released, irrespective of how long it has been since one has set the tension, assuming the conditions are the same (heat, friction, no damage). But we are different, thankfully, from a coil of iron. It seems when that tension is released, so much rush of energy comes off, as if you didn't realize that the crank was turning and turning, making the tension stronger. The conditions are for the most part different from whence the tension started, and when the tension is released. Exhaustion and drained feeling (tension gone) is balanced by the energy benefits of true relaxation.
It is full steam a head for me now, that the spring is relaxed ready for the next work. Nothing can stop me. Sure I will do small projects here and there for money, but with the loving support of my partner and the prudent smarts of Yours Truly of having saved so much money over the years, so the "starving" artist will not be too bad off. But somehow, to write something someone else would want to read and enjoy, well, one has to be "starving" just enough to make it work... it is Murphy's law.
I quit my day job. Bold. Crazy. But it was something I had to do. To be true to myself, to be honest and be able to write clearly, keep the well fresh for me. It's a bit selfish, but who said the process of re-invention of yourself could be self-less? By definition, it is what it is.
And still through it all I can connect again, to my garden to my home, to the universe and other people. This will be fun, and challenging, like I have never had a challenge before.
Later this week, I will unveil my "Publication Strategy" if you will. A roadmap which will keep me motivated and honest, Dear Reader! Hope you agree, and help me see it through its rightful course, what ever that may be.
When tension has stored in a spring for so long, it is always the same amount of energy that is released, irrespective of how long it has been since one has set the tension, assuming the conditions are the same (heat, friction, no damage). But we are different, thankfully, from a coil of iron. It seems when that tension is released, so much rush of energy comes off, as if you didn't realize that the crank was turning and turning, making the tension stronger. The conditions are for the most part different from whence the tension started, and when the tension is released. Exhaustion and drained feeling (tension gone) is balanced by the energy benefits of true relaxation.
It is full steam a head for me now, that the spring is relaxed ready for the next work. Nothing can stop me. Sure I will do small projects here and there for money, but with the loving support of my partner and the prudent smarts of Yours Truly of having saved so much money over the years, so the "starving" artist will not be too bad off. But somehow, to write something someone else would want to read and enjoy, well, one has to be "starving" just enough to make it work... it is Murphy's law.
I quit my day job. Bold. Crazy. But it was something I had to do. To be true to myself, to be honest and be able to write clearly, keep the well fresh for me. It's a bit selfish, but who said the process of re-invention of yourself could be self-less? By definition, it is what it is.
And still through it all I can connect again, to my garden to my home, to the universe and other people. This will be fun, and challenging, like I have never had a challenge before.
Later this week, I will unveil my "Publication Strategy" if you will. A roadmap which will keep me motivated and honest, Dear Reader! Hope you agree, and help me see it through its rightful course, what ever that may be.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Thunder Road
1976 - Bruce Springsteen
He was so young and brash and unafraid. He lept across the stage like a madman, saving everyone's soul that night. Many of us ask, instead of "what would Jesus do?" it is now, "what would Bruce do?" Have fun, enjoy life, believe in yourself, and dream baby dream....the money will follow your success. And you can survive and thrive on much less for longer than you think.
Thunder Road. The song always brings tears to my eyes. To me, it's about escape on one hand, on another, it is about commitment to yourself and the one (person, thing, ideal) you really love, to pull out of the town full of losers, and win, on your own terms.
No retreat, no surrender. Bruce always makes me feel like I am ready to grow young again. And dream. So what does this have to do with re-invention? Well, you can't throw out the baby with the bathwater so to speak. You have to be grounded in commitment, one constant that doesn't change. For some, that is prayer to a higher being, for others it is in themselves and their ideas, values and beliefs. Not to sell yourself out, or if you have a bit, to go back and re-gain the commitment you had when you were young, unafraid, and brash.
Soul searching is great, but the road is better. Get out there, do things, see what you like and what you don't. Sure its bittersweet when one road doesn't work out, but you've got to remember you've learned something about yourself. And that's fantastic, its your gift to yourself, its your duty to yourself to learn which road is right for you, and follow your heart until you find your dream.
Hope you all have some thing you can be grounded in, that helps you when you are out on that road of discovery, of life.
He was so young and brash and unafraid. He lept across the stage like a madman, saving everyone's soul that night. Many of us ask, instead of "what would Jesus do?" it is now, "what would Bruce do?" Have fun, enjoy life, believe in yourself, and dream baby dream....the money will follow your success. And you can survive and thrive on much less for longer than you think.
Thunder Road. The song always brings tears to my eyes. To me, it's about escape on one hand, on another, it is about commitment to yourself and the one (person, thing, ideal) you really love, to pull out of the town full of losers, and win, on your own terms.
No retreat, no surrender. Bruce always makes me feel like I am ready to grow young again. And dream. So what does this have to do with re-invention? Well, you can't throw out the baby with the bathwater so to speak. You have to be grounded in commitment, one constant that doesn't change. For some, that is prayer to a higher being, for others it is in themselves and their ideas, values and beliefs. Not to sell yourself out, or if you have a bit, to go back and re-gain the commitment you had when you were young, unafraid, and brash.
Soul searching is great, but the road is better. Get out there, do things, see what you like and what you don't. Sure its bittersweet when one road doesn't work out, but you've got to remember you've learned something about yourself. And that's fantastic, its your gift to yourself, its your duty to yourself to learn which road is right for you, and follow your heart until you find your dream.
Hope you all have some thing you can be grounded in, that helps you when you are out on that road of discovery, of life.
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