There are moments when I am going through my day and I think I am merely a bit player in my own life, following a script that was written long ago. I find that thought interesting, especially when involved in a painful conversation, or receiving advice from someone about something.
Occasionally I find myself wondering, if the whole situation whatever it is, was contrived for the sole benefit of the other person and I am cameo in the scene? Have they lived all these years and lived through untold trials and tribulations waiting for this moment to enter my life, and tell me in a few seconds, something that I need to hear, but keep choosing not to hear?
In other circumstances when life becomes difficult, I wonder if I spent my life and went through all my life experiences to enter someone else’s life with a different way of approaching a problem? Perhaps, my ‘different way of approaching a problem’ contributes to more frustration on their part. Maybe the interaction was contrived to make this one day even worse than it would be had I not appeared in their day?
Before I learned, or perhaps understood that the type of people I would normally have problems with will keep showing up over and over again until I see myself in them and accept them; that without fail, these same types of people showed up over and over with nothing better to do than frustrate and make me miserable.
Now that I am (mostly) beyond that way of thinking about why they were always in my life, maybe it is now my life responsibility to enter into the life of others and frustrate them with the way I act. Maybe myself and others like me are constant problem in their lives, bouncing from one situation and conflict to another, causing stress in the lives of others without realizing it.
 If I know the answer to that question, I am am not aware at the moment that I do know it. I do know that knowing that life is a long series of challenges and conflict since I was born is enough to know at the moment. Whether I would become bored, or not with my life if I was not challenged on all fronts, is not really that important any more.
It is much more fun to take each day as it is, and know that some days are better than others. In the end of my life there is no prize given out, or listing of where I finished in comparison to whatever imaginary group I was being compared to. Often, we tend to forget that thought.
At the end of my life, if I am fortunate not lose my life in a split second accident, there is no prize given out at that moment for how I lived my life. There is no one standing by with a scale measuring how I handled each life event, good or bad, and rating it against an imaginary group.
What is real is the knowing that life is not stagnant. Because I have worked towards a goal for an hour, week, month, or lifetime, does not mean I am entitled to always see the fruit of my labor. What I am entitled to is knowing what I did or did not do.
Knowing that I accepted change, struggle, and adversity for what it is. Change, struggle, and adversity are benchmarks in any life. Because of them I know I am alive, and taking responsibility for my life and how I live it.
It is not hard to live life going which ever way I am moved by the winds of those around me. Though that is not living life, that is going through the motions of waiting to die. I prefer to live my life as best as I can, and take responsibility for myself and my actions.
It is knowing that I did the best I could with what I had to work with that is important. Living my life the best I know how, like my future death is not a team event.
I share my life with you and those around me, but I am the only person living my life. In those instances I may wish to live someone else’s life if only for an instant, it is up to me to do the best I can with what I have to work with. Unfortunately what I have to work with is not always what I would prefer. That’s life.
I was listening to music today and this song played. Whenever I hear this song, I always feel so sad for Janis when she sings it. Whether the song is about Janis looking back, or she was tapping into some very deep feelings of someone around her, I do not know. What I do know is as I listened to it again I thought about how we treat people who are not as pretty as we are.
A very successful and famous singer, and songwriter named Janis Ian wrote a song that swept the nation in 1975. If any other songs, except for a few Country and Western broken heart songs ever came from so deep down in the heart and expressed such raw emotion, I have not heard it. The emotion and desperation, and the ugly truth of life as it is, is captured in the words of Janis’ song.
Here is a short excerpt from Janis Ian’s song, ‘At Seventeen’
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
I remember in my young and single years, I would be strolling along a sidewalk, or walking in a store, and I would be attracted by some woman’s hair. I would stroll behind her at some distance thinking about how beautiful her hair was. While doing that I would usually be working up the courage to tap her on the shoulder and speak to her. After all she had to beautiful, who else would have hair that shimmers and tumbles across her shoulders?
Most of the time, probably because I was shy, with no effort on my part, the young woman would turn to look at something that caught her eye. Maybe she sensed someone was looking at her, and wanted to see who it was. Faster than the urge hit me to talk to her, the urge would leave me. She would have bad acne scars, or something else detracting from her perfect self that I had built up in my mind.
It was one of those things in my life I did not like in myself. I worked on this flaw deep inside of me. It is quite hard to see some people as real people, and not see them as most people, which is completely ignore them. This time, after Janis Ian finished her song, and before I started typing, I wondered in the space of a few moments how many opportunities I passed up before I changed myself.
 I am not sure where the behavior comes from. Almost without exception we all share this same behavior flaw. We don’t see people who are too fat, skinny, crippled, or otherwise not normal by common standards. For many of those people we choose not to see, invisibility has been their life.
Some of these people have put up barriers of their own for protection. Perhaps due to years of pain from thinking someone really wanted to talk to them they build walls. I know one person who I see almost daily, and they rarely turn around when I call their name. I usually have to tap them on the shoulder to get their attention if they are not facing me. Who would be interested in them after all?
I find that like anyone else, they are only people trying to live their life as best they can. Occasionally someone may mistake interest in them for something more, especially if it is someone of the opposite sex having the interest. Someone is paying them some attention, maybe the first and only attention in months. What would you think if after months of invisibility someone showed an interest in you? It may be awkward to define the relationship as friendship, or as an acquaintance, but that awkwardness lasts only a few moments for you. For the other person, it lasts a lifetime.
One more snippet from, ‘At Seventeen’
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me.
We have enough isolation in our lives without building more barriers and pretending one or two people we see every day are invisible. By making certain people invisible to us, we make ourselves invisible too. I don’t know how you feel, but I prefer not be invisible to prevent a moment of my attentions being misunderstood.
I was at the grocery store, and a most interesting thing happened. It is January and cold, yet one little girl of (I think) five years old turned it into June for a minute or two. I had finished collecting the few items I wanted, and made my way up front to check out.
In front of me was a young woman with two little girls, the five year old and a younger girl of perhaps four. The three of them were ahead of me, standing around the cart, waiting for their turn to check out. Suddenly the girls, in a flash of impulse saw the flowers for sale display a few feet away.
The flower stand was circular perhaps and eight foot circle, and composed of four tiers with the fourth tier a circle large enough for a single container holding three small bunches of flowers. The stand was filled with flowers, either no one could afford them, or it had recently been restocked.
The little girls kind of skipped and hopped over to the flower stand. The youngest girl was content to stare at one section, admiring the colors and moving a few feet to repeat her observations. The older girl however had a completely different approach.
 The older little girl was looking at all the flowers, re-arranging the their positions in a sequence that appealed to her sense of where they should be. After she finished moving the flowers around she started taking out loud to individual flower bunches and telling her mom to look at how pretty each bunch was. Almost laughing, she would pick up a bunch of flowers, say something to each bunch of flowers, and put them back in the container they came from.
The younger girl bored of the flowers, and went back to the cart, and sat on the bottom. Her shoes were worn, and a few sizes too big for her tiny feet. She didn’t seem to notice though, so I think she was used to hand me downs, fitting correctly or not. I then noticed that no one in the small family of three were dressed very well. All their clothes were well used and more than a little worn.
The older girl, was absolutely bubbling by now, flitting about the flowers, taking them off the stand, hugging them, saying something to them and putting them back. She reminded me of a honey bee collecting pollen, or a humming bird sucking up nectar. She was lost in a her own little world she had created with nothing more than a stand of cut flowers in a grocery store.
The magic of her enthusiasm over the flowers pulled me in, and I asked the Mom if it was okay to give the little girl money to buy a single bunch of flowers to bring home. The Mom was not sure how to respond and mumbled something that did not sound like a firm no.
I gave the little girl five dollars and some change to make the tax on the flowers at four dollars and ninety-nine cents a bunch. I was called to another register and it was time for me to check out. I paid my bill, and left the store, wondering if the little girl had bought her Mom, her Sister, and herself fresh flowers to take home, or did she decide to save the money and use it for something more important like proper fitting shoes for her sister.
I would like to think her Mom told her to pick one bunch of flowers for herself. If so, when they wake up tomorrow morning, the flowers will be there there to bring a little sunshine into their lives. It does not take a lot of time, effort, or money to make a positive change in a life.
Sometimes I feel like the last person in the world who is not on some social networking site. Every now and then I get offers or invitations to join a social networking site. I think about it, kick it around in my head for a few days and decide I really do not care to share my whole life with the world.
I now remember that is not completely true. I did open and account on one site. They did not seem to be overly concerned with who I really was, so I made up some information for the site and created an account.
I kept it active for about six weeks, and then let it die a slow lingering death due to inactivity. I am sure by now it has passed into the great data collection point in the sky and made it into a non important database.
It is not that my life is anything more special than anyone else’s life, or I am a fugitive from justice trying to evade capture and incarceration. I prefer to have my life be my own as much as possible.
 Sharing information or pictures about what I am doing or have been doing is a fun idea, but I find I can do it quite well using email, or a phone call. Both of them to me are a little more personable, than posting on a site and checking back to see who if anyone has visited and looked at what I put up there.
This week, the subject came up again, I had an invite from a long time friend to join him on facebook. This time I actually thought about it, and did a little checking on the net to see what I could find. I had heard all these wonderful stories about meeting old friends, catching up with schoolmates, etc.
I went to facebook’s site to check it out, that seemed the most logical. At first glance it looks like an official government site, conservative and blue. I was surprised that there were no sample accounts to see – unless I signed up for an account. If you are like most people, that did not slow you down. For me it sent up red flags of caution and fireworks of concern.
I decided to check out some facebook pages, and could not look at any. To even have the opportunity to look at a facebook page, I have to have a facebook account. Hmmm. I found that interesting. I did find these bits of information clicking on the policy link at the bottom of the web page:
- Consent to Collection and Processing in the United States. By using Facebook, you consent to having your personal data transferred to and processed in the United States.
and under statement of rights page, number 13. Amendments…
- “We can make changes for legal or administrative reasons upon notice without opportunity to comment.”
You also may want to read the second to last paragraph of the about page. The paragraph starts with:
- “Examples of the types of information”
Still on the fence about whether to join or not, I thought about facebook videos. It seemed logical that someone made a video of, on, or about facebook. I googled facebook, clicked on videos, and found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
It was not quite the pot of gold I expected though. Here are a few youtube links I watched. I have no idea whether they are accurate or not, nor do I know anything about them other than I watched them.
- What is facebook
- Facebook pwnd
- Facebook: What they really have one you
Facebook and other social networking sites may be wonderful, and I may be too cautious and overly concerned with my private information. It is one thing to know there is a lot of publicly available information on anyone. It is quite another to put so much information in one place.
In facebook’s, and other social networking sites defense, I imagine they are trying to provide a service, and make a few dollars along the way. Who can fault that? The policies they have in place are the most responsible policies reasonably possible, I am guessing.
You, of course will have to decide for yourself, as always, what is right for you and your use. My opinion on this matter is obvious, I choose no thankyou.
It is almost the day of thanks in America. Thanksgiving is one of many days when I really look for those things I am thankful for that I may not think about often. It is good to be thankful for health, wealth or sustenance and family though there is so much more to life than that.
In my life, I have a lot of coincidences. How these coincidences come about is another matter, and not my intent here. A most recent example is a book I was looking for that I purchased and read a few years ago. At the time the subject matter was a curiosity for me. Now a few years later life has worked itself around to where the book is worth a re-read for me. I could not find it. I checked my bookshelves, I checked the books that I had placed in a box, put away for some future time and date. The book was nowhere to be found.
I decided I had lent out the book, or it grew feet and walked out the door. I thought I would try the library for a copy when I found time. I came home from work one day last week and there was the book next to my computer desk chair. All I can think of is my two cats for whatever reason were playing or searching for something in the area and pushed it out from its hiding place while on their quest. I am grateful for coincidences.
I mentioned in a previous post(s), but I spent some time in the military over seas. One Holiday in particular stands out in my memory. It was cool damp winter night and I was in a gate shack, the lone one man team on a deserted stretch of flight line. Around the middle of my duty the food panel van arrives. I thought a nice hot turkey dinner was on its way. I could not quite identify what it was I ate, but it was not hot, barely warm, and tasted pretty bland. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself until that spring when I overheard some visiting Army guy talk about his cold canned rations that comprised his Easter dinner a week earlier while he sat in a wet hole that passed for a bunker. Listening to him improved whatever it was I ate that holiday night immensely. I am thankful for having the opportunity for hot meals whenever I am hungry.
When I left the military in the early nineties, I was viewed by some as little better than a pan handler who saw the light and became a responsible citizen.
These days many people taking time from their lives to thank returning soldiers for their sacrifices. I am thankful that todays soldiers are recognized for the sacrifices they make and have made so our life can continues in whatever manner we deem right for us. I am thankful for the reception veterans receive these days. I am thankful for their sacrifices too. Unless you have served and gone over seas, it is hard to understand the price our folks in the service pay why we go on with our lives.
 I am thankful for those people who have lives filled with struggle and tragedy. They not only show me how to thrive and survive my own struggles, but also show me no matter how bad things are life could always be worse. Some people live their lives with emotional, physical, and other forms of debilitating problems and they learn how to succeed in spite of their handicaps. I am thankful for the depth and quality of their spirits to never give up.
Last, but not least, I am grateful for emergency services. The policemen, firemen, emergency room people, and utility workers. They venture where few mere mortals want to go. If ever I need their help, I am thankful in advance that they will do everything in their control to help me, not knowing anything about me, and not caring because I am a fellow human being. If ever I could feel empathy and passion as they do.
One last thought, if it were not for all the people who donate their time and energy, I would be writing this in a paper journal. I am thankful they have their passion. I am thankful you took the time to read this.
I am in Austin this week on a work related trip. A work related trip means a budget trip. There is not a lot of money budgeted for entertainment. For low budget entertainment I like to get out and about, relaxing in my walking shoes.
For me being out of town without a lot of cash is easy. I like to walk. If given the choice when out of town if something is in walking distance I walk there instead of drive.
Walking gets me out of my hotel room for a longer period than driving somewhere close will. A few minute drive can become a thirty minute walk. Two thirty minute walks to and from where I am going to have my dinner means an hour or more of my evening is taken up in an enjoyable way.
What is a walk like in a strange place? I have taken more than a few, so I will share a few stories. Walking in some places was not the best decision I could have made. Walking in other places has been a unique experience. Generally an hours walk around the area I am staying is fun and relaxing.
 I once wandered lost in the streets of an American ghetto. I was followed for about twenty-five minutes by three young men, who could not quite bring themselves to bother me, but followed me in case they had the opportunity. I was lost and it was not fun. In Israel I walked as a tourist in places where no tourist should have been walking. People were being kidnapped, and buses were blowing up. Most people with me thought it was too risky to be out and about and they stayed in their rooms, very bored. In one small town where I stopped for a night, I watched porch lights come onm heralding the direction of my walk. Porch lights lit my way for almost a mile before I returned to where I started. I was impressed with the speed of the telephone and the power of a stranger in a strange town.
Some trips like this one to Austin are very good. Today I went on an hour stroll along the infamous Austin river walk near the South Congress Bridge. I watched people jog and walk by. People cruising along on bicycles from one place to another. People walking in groups, and people walking with their dogs.
I had a interesting chat with a homeless man who had the motor portion of a ceiling fan. He was trying to turn it into a generator for his personal use. While he tinkered with the motor pondering possibilities, he shared some of his life with me. I never would have had that chat from my car or room.
I walked my way back to the South Congress Bridge, and asked around for a salad bar within walking distance. There happened to be a salad bar of sorts about eight blocks up the street. I walked hearing bits of conversations in dialects I never heard before. Possible they are tourists like myself, or perhaps business people working hard on closing the deal.
During my walk back, homeless people were staking out their sleeping quarters for the evening. The incongruity of skyscrapers worth untold millions with homeless men and perhaps women sleeping in their daytime shadow was a study of contrasts.
I arrived back on the South Congress Bridge in time to observe the nightly flight of approximately 750,000 bats starting their nightly feed. While waiting for the flight, I chatted with people standing next to me about traveling, they gave me their impressions of their Jerusalem visits. What a small world, a stranger on a bridge having been to Jerusalem too.
Over all, getting out walking, listening, and talking to complete strangers is a thrifty and enjoyable way to pass part of an evening. Walking in some neighborhoods is indeed risk taking at its best. For most walks however, being out and about on foot is enjoyable, and a stress reliever. Use common sense, leave your valuables and extra money in your room, and get out and see what the locals take for granted.
If you are fortunate, you will get the kind of comment I did last night when I wandered too far from the beaten path. A car slowed, a window came down, and a womans voice said, “You lost”, and she laughed. I turned back the way I came knowing the next vehicle to stop may not be so friendly. If you are not that lucky, you may get a little nervous. Use your head and don’t stray any farther away than you have already. Head back to where you started and walk in a different direction.
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