Friday, June 3, 2011

On Hold But Not Over Yet

The first half of this year is nearly gone.  


I have (obviously) severely neglected this blog over the past few months as I've been devoting so much of my time to other endeavors. 


However, I'm not ready to close it down completely. 


So, for now, In The Process is on hold. 


If anyone is still reading, let me invite you to see where I've been and to join me at that address... http://connectingcoordinates.com/

See you there!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

I Want That Job - Or Do I?


On a trip to Nashville, TN, I went with my sister, Kari, to her workplace. She works as a tour guide at The Hermitage, homestead of Andrew Jackson, the 7th U.S. President. During the busiest season, 400 to 1,200 people per day visit this historical landmark. I was intrigued by her job and wished I had one like it.

How fun it must be to bring stories of history to life, I thought.

School kids come to get an experience of U.S. history they can’t get from reading a textbook. Families create vacation memories while gaining a new understanding of early America. And people from all over the world visit on the recommendation of friends and family who have shared their ventures.

I thought to myself, this is the job I want. 

Unlike the confines of a grey cubicle, a day’s work wouldn’t get boring. Meeting new people each day, from so many different places, must be an interesting and even exciting way to make a living. Where meetings, office politics and meaningless projects sucked the life out of my soul, I saw this occupation as freedom from all that.

“I had 110 guests take the wagon ride yesterday,” said Mitzi, Kari’s colleague, while waiting to start the first tour of the day. One by one, patrons surrendered their tickets and climbed into the wagon.

“There’s 8 of us, we’re part of ‘The Vacation Club’. We came down here from Michigan,” said one man from the group of retired folks with matching maroon shirts. A mom and her two young kids sat near the front, the best spot to hear the narration and a man carrying a camera around his neck with a lens to rival the paparazzi took the last seat.

As Mitzi began the tour, “The Vacation Club” kept talking. Mitzi spoke louder and tried to engage them in the story she was telling but the group kept chatting with little consideration for the other guests trying to pay attention.

It was then that I saw how working as a tour guide might not be the job for me. If I had to give the same spiel 8 times a day, everyday, I’m pretty sure it would get boring.  Although meeting a variety of people would be fascinating, for an introvert like me, expending that much energy interacting with the public everyday would leave me drained and just as exhausted as my days in a corporate cube. It looked glamorous from a distance but up close, it was still work.

So, at the end of my own visit to The Hermitage, it’s clear, I’m a better tourist than I would as a tour guide.

Is there a job you thought you wanted until you took a closer look?

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

In Search of Coffee: Nashville


I’m afraid I’ve become an addict but I don’t think I’m the only one.

Without coffee I crash by 1pm and only a nap will get me through the day. Not to mention the raging headache that reminds me when I haven’t tended to my caffeine fix.

When it comes to coffee, I wouldn’t say I’m a snob but I do have certain tastes that I prefer. Although I like Starbucks’ sugar-laden drinks, the price keeps me away and when it comes to their straight up coffee, I find it too strong. If we’re talking about franchise coffee, I will choose Dunkin’ Donuts over Starbucks any day.

That said, it’s more satisfying when I can forgo the corporate chain altogether and, in Goldilocks fashion,  find a cup of java that’s not too weak, not too bitter, but just right. 

I found the following local java huts on a recent trip to Nashville, TN. I might add that my favorite was Bongo Java East.

CREMA – Hermitage Ave. (downtown Nash)
·         Price: Average – med. hot coffee $1.80 w/ tax.
·         Taste: Strong flavor but not bitter. I needed an extra Splenda.
·         Service: As you would expect – got the job done, nothing spectacular.
·         Atmosphere: Cozy, warm décor – no free tables on a Sat. am. – free wifi. 
·         Parking: There is a small parking lot on the side however, on a Saturday morning, it’s not enough.

Overall: Thumbs Up

 ********

PORTLAND BREW – Eastland Ave. (East Nash)
·         Price: More than Average – med. iced coffee $2.00+
·         Taste: Strong and bitter – couldn’t doctor it up enough to finish it
·         Service: Not helpful – bad customer service
·         Atmosphere: Open space including a loft but has a cold feel to it – free wifi
·         Parking: On the street

Overall: Thumbs Down

*********

FROTHY MONKEY – 12th Ave. South
·         Price: More than Average – med iced coffee $2.59
·         Taste: Great full flavor – but not bitter
·         Service: Friendly and fast
·         Atmosphere: Lots of space including booths, tables and couches – free wifi
·         Parking: Street parking in front and a small lot behind the building

Overall: Thumbs Up

********

UGLY MUGS – Eastland Ave. (East Nash)
·         Price: Average – 16 oz. hot coffee $1.64 w/ tax
·         Taste: Strong and bitter
·         Service: Very friendly and helpful
·         Atmosphere: Large open space – kids play area – free wifi
·         Parking: Plenty of parking in lot

Overall: Thumbs to the side

******** 

BONGO JAVA EAST – South 11th St. (East Nash)
·         Price: Less than Average – 20 oz iced coffee $1.86 w/ tax
·         Taste: Great flavor – the perfect blend
·         Service: Friendly, fast and engaging
·         Atmosphere: Café setting – good amount of seating - free wifi
·         Parking: Street and small parking lot

Overall: Thumbs Up  


Where have you found good coffee while traveling?

Friday, March 4, 2011

Measuring The American Dream


40 degrees and windy, the air coming off the water makes it seem colder than it is; it’s too chilly to get out of my car. I come to the beach when I need to think. The water slaps the shore; so vast and strong, it extends beyond my view and yet it stays contained within its boundary, coming and going by the timing of the moon. It reminds me that I am a small piece of a much larger picture.

I was 13 when I left the United States for the first time. My parents took my sisters and I to Belize by way of Mexico. Looking back, it seems strange. I didn’t know anyone else whose parents had taken them on an international fieldtrip.

We didn’t get on a plane and fly across country lines; we crossed borders in our tan 1983 Chevy Suburban; driving from Colorado to Belmopan. We didn’t stay in hotels either. My brave parents, 3 sisters and I slept in the truck under the flickering streetlights of any gas station or market we found when it was time to stop for the night. One night in a parking lot, as we lay on top of the folded down seats, quietly tucked under blankets, a hostile drug deal took place outside the window. Wide-eyed and on edge, I don’t think my dad slept at all that night. However, I don’t remember ever being scared in this foreign land. We played in black sand and azure water as we made our way down Mexico’s gulf coast and found an RV campground on a lush piece of land at the water’s edge in Chetumal; a town on the Mexico-Belize border.

In Belize, we stayed with family friends who were living there at the time. They took us to a wildlife refuge and the Mayan ruins. We crossed the Mopan River on a wooden, hand-cranked ferry. We ate creole food, fresh pineapples, mangos and bananas, drove through the humid jungles and waded through the panhandlers in Belize City. We went to an indigenous church in a primitive cinder block structure and listened to the native music, largely influenced by Bob Marley. I was immersed in this unfamiliar society and I was intrigued. This was the first time I saw another culture first hand.

There’s an awareness that comes from seeing how people live in nations that aren’t as developed as our own. It sparks a seed of compassion for those who struggle to survive under the thumb of poverty. It calls for gratefulness and an outlook that shifts away from excessive reaching to consume. That fieldtrip was the gateway to my worldview being expanded beyond the typical American dream. I came back to the states one month later having experienced more than just a family vacation. 20 years later, it’s still with me; maybe more so now.

Staring at the receding tide, I ponder the years between here and there. A lone barge is making its way up the Long Island Sound. With lights on, it turns and appears to be moving head-on toward land. The course correction I’ve recently made to my own life looks to some like I might run aground as well.

Chasing corporate success and the applause of those who ask what I do for a living squelched the life I truly wanted. It left a hole on the inside that kept leaking from the bottom. Trading in padding my net worth for the less tangible ‘fulfillment’ and ‘meaning’ appears irresponsible. It’s illogical.

If the American Dream means gaining prosperity, success and a richer, fuller life, whose measuring stick do we get to use?

Thursday, February 24, 2011

3 Ways To Reignite Creativity


Winter is my least favorite season. Its shorter days, colder weather and extra layers of clothing tend to constrict my creativity as much as my blood vessels. If I’m not careful, winter will put me in a funk. Here are some ways that have helped me stay creative:

1. Do something spontaneous
I am a creature of routine. I get a method in place and if it works for me, I stick with it. The problem is that routine also bores me. One summer, I got an idea to take a road trip. The next day I put a few things in a bag, grabbed a friend and drove to Florida. For a venture closer to home, I have been known to get in my car and drive just to see where I end up in two hours time. Doing something spontaneous is great way to break the same ol’ - same ol’ grind.

2. Find a challenge
I enjoy things that provoke my mind but when I’m stuck, my mind doesn’t fire on all cylinders. Since being unemployed, I have done more cooking. I’m the girl that does quick and easy meals like spaghetti or tacos and brownies from a box. Recently, I added chicken parmesan to my collection. When I feel bogged down, doing something new or finding a new solution gets my brain revving again.

3. Clean out the clutter
When I get in a rut, I start to feel suffocated like a butterfly in a mason jar. I can see the blue sky but I keep bumping into constraints. A few weeks ago, I went through every box in my storage closet and filled 3 garbage bags with junk that I’ve been holding onto; some of it for 20 years. Interestingly, the space I created in my closet helped clear out space in my mind as well. New ideas formed and I found motivation for following new possibilities.

Whether it’s a season, a job or some other thing that makes you feel stalled out, you can get your stride back just by doing something off the beaten path.

How do you restart creativity?

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Savin Rock And A Soggy Sock

Splash!

Looking at my phone to see what time it was became a puddle-skip fail.

The first day of 50 degree temps in the northeast brought a full parking lot at the Savin Rock boardwalk. The cement path stretches alongside 1.6 miles of West Haven, CT beach that was once the home of New England’s Largest Amusement Park.

Melting piles of dirty snow dripped into the Long Island Sound signaling spring to stay for a while. The grassy park that saw 50,000 people each weekend in the late 1800s, now displays picnic tables waiting for visitors to share a lunch.

“Excuse Me,” I said as I sped past two ladies walking their sweater-wearing lap dogs. They kindly stepped aside.

My view caught the movement of a mom with three young kids sitting in a beach chair while her little ones shoveled sand into their buckets. They played at the edge of Liberty Pier where 10 cents would buy you a ferry ride to the east side of New Haven in 1870.

A grandfatherly old man with a tree-branch cane took two startled steps to the right as I went around him. He was shuffling past the swing set. It sits on the spot where The Thunderbolt, an 85-foot high roller coaster screamed over the water in the 1920’s. Children of his generation would have been found on the carousel or ferris wheel; in a funhouse or an arcade. Now, those men gather for a game of bocce ball or horseshoes. The Great Hurricane of 1938 destroyed the theme park attractions of their youth.

On a steady pace, I nodded to the Latino man on a bench. He didn’t move or divert his gaze. Mesmerized by the Spanish sounds coming from the radio next to him, he stayed fixed on the slapping surf.

The warmth of a mid-winter day reminds those with cabin fever that summer dances will soon return to the center square at Savin Rock. The rides and hotdog stands are gone; the magic shows and cockfights have disappeared. West Haven’s landscape has been transformed but the spirit of recreation continues to be handed down, steadfast as the incoming tide.

On this pleasant day at the Savin Rock boardwalk I got more than a jog in time... I also got a soggy sock.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Rejection Is God's Protection


I’ve been unemployed for several months.

Prior to this stint of joblessness, there were few things that stirred up anxiety like being out of work. Of course I like being able to go to the beach in the middle of the day or take a two hour walk without worrying about getting to the office on time but financial strain and looking for the right position and going on interviews are things I could do without. In my world, looking for a new job ranks up there with falling from the sky in a crashing plane. The fear grips me in irrational proportions.

Much of my anxiety surrounding the process of finding a new job has been based in aversion to rejection and lack of confidence. The antidote for those things can often be found by simply doing more of that which one feels unconfident about. In my case, send out more resumes, do more interviewing and embrace the process so that fear is dispelled by the reality that it isn’t as scary as it seems. In turn, that builds confidence. 

When you turn on the lights, you find there is no boogie-man in the closet.

After months of being asked about my strengths and weaknesses and how I handle difficult coworkers I don’t get sweaty anymore. The heart palpitations and dry mouth have all but disappeared. Although the job search is still not something I love, the nervousness has been greatly reduced and the fear of rejection virtually doesn’t exist.

I still don’t have a job but maybe that’s an air horn in my face trying to tell me it’s time to change direction.

Sometimes it’s a gift when things don’t happen the way we think they should.

Sometimes the career path we end up on is as complicated as our relationships and like relationships, sometimes we stay in a job or a field of work that is just okay because it’s comfortable and we’ve invested so much time into it even though we know it’s sucking the life out of us. We are afraid to let go of something that pays the bills but causes despair and talk ourselves out of reaching for what we love because we might go broke.

Maybe a closed door to a fulltime corporate gig that would offer financial security but would squash my soul is really an open door to keep plugging away at a dream I’ve been putting aside for years. Maybe I will go broke and lose everything but maybe that’s the path that will open to the meadow of a more meaningful life.

When all our efforts don’t add up maybe it’s because, as I heard Katy Perry say recently, rejection is God’s protection.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Hope Unashamed


It knocks unexpectedly and whispers into raging silence.
Hope offers subtle surprises.

Paralyzed by all that isn’t right in the world; when I don’t know what the next step is.
Hope sets the frozen in motion.

Bubbling up when every day has been the same for months and time is not my friend.
Hope changes the overflow.

There’s a seed on the inside that sprouts joy in the face of impossible odds. There’s an intuitive knowing that something good, right and true is coming even though it isn’t yet revealed.
Hope reverses doubt.

I don’t know what to do with it or how to manage it but instead I let it sit beside me; a companion that gives me strength.
Hope lights a dark night. 

Monday, February 7, 2011

Forbidden Flames


Sometimes we choose someone or something even though all we know and every piece of sound advice goes against it. A decision made in the face of good judgment is the equivalent of a raging forest fire that can’t be contained. It’s not a birthday candle confined to a one-inch wick or a sparkler that fizzles after a minute or two. Once it starts, it’s rarely stopped before it runs its course.

The consequences are known in advance but it’s the fraction of a percent that this time will be different that sets the pursuit ablaze.

When the fuel has run out and icy water has doused the embers, it’s black. The heart is charred like Yellowstone Park in 1988. It takes time and seasons filled with sunshine and raindrops to grow back but it will. Just as fire in nature scatters seed and has a strange way of planting new life at the same time it is delivering death so also the heart will find new strength from the bowels of a complicated situation. All is not lost. It looks that way. It feels that way. The eye sees only filthy soot but underneath, there is a channel of redemption stirring.

The blemish becomes a beauty mark. 

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Bring Me Your Love


In celebration of “love month”, Elisa Doucette over at Ophelia’s Webb is hosting a series about love from all kinds of angles. This is her second year doing a love anthology and I.love.it.  

The series is called Pas de Deux, a ballet term which means “a dance for two”. Each day of February features a different writer’s perspective on love. 

I'm over there today so click over to "Bring Me Your Love".  

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

What Happens When You Put Away The Bottle

I drank one last beer on New Year’s Eve.


The next day was the start of my hiatus from booze for an undetermined period of time. I did this one other time and it lasted until my birthday in mid April. It’s a challenge (I love a good challenge) and it’s healthy (I need to be more healthy) but my determination was about to be tested in a big way.


Jan 2nd I was in a car accident.


I went to meet a friend for lunch and noticed that the interstate was a parking lot. The traffic wasn’t even crawling; it was at a dead stop. I rerouted to back roads but everyone else had the same idea. The 6-mile trip took 1 hour and 15 minutes. Finally, just one block from my friend’s house, a car ran a stop sign, through the intersection smack in front of me. There was no time to stop and I T-boned them in the passenger side. Clearly at fault, they fled the scene before I could speak with them. I jumped out of my car to get the license plate number as they drove away. I called the police. Somehow, my front license plate came up missing in the commotion. TWO HOURS later, an officer showed up for my statement.  Happy New Year.


It was more of a hassle than anything. I called my insurance, set up a time to take my car in and began the process of dealing with one of life’s annoying misfortunes.


The next morning, I had a bonafide pain in my neck. I picked up a rental car, braved the DMV for new plates (which is a tribulation in itself) and saw a chiropractor for my neck pain. Then, the news came that the repairs to my car were extensive and would take 2 weeks to complete. Lovely.


A few days later, my cell phone committed suicide. It jumped from my pocket, head first into the toilet. I grabbed it out as fast as I could but it was lifeless. I did my best to revive it with rice to dehydrate and a space heater to warm it but it was gone. A comical finale. Even so, a new one would be sent overnight.


But overnight it snowed. A lot.


20 inches closed down every airport in the northeast and I was without a phone or text messages for the next 4 days. I have no landline so during that time, email was my only mode of communication with anyone until…


My email went down.


In 11 years of having the same email address there’s been two or three times that I haven’t been able to access my account. The downtime has never lasted more than an hour or two. This time, my email was completely down for 36 hours. What are the chances?


After 2 weeks, the car still wasn’t fixed. It was going to be another week. Still driving a gas-guzzling Ford Taurus courtesy of Enterprise, I tried not to get worked up. At least I had wheels in the mean time. At least I was ok. Things could be worse. The police report from the accident was released. The PD traced the plate number of the car at fault but the plates were fake. There was no way to find them or hold them accountable for the damages. Awesome.


And it kept snowing.


6 snowstorms hit the northeast in rapid succession like leap frogs. In the month of January it snowed 16 of 31 days and blasted the state with a total of five feet. The last one dumped 16 inches on my sidewalk in 8 hours. The piles of snow on yards and street corners and parking lots are well over my head… and right now; it’s snowing yet again.


In the middle of the last big bad snowstorm, the insurance man called to say my car was finally done. After 3 weeks, I was so happy to finally get my car back.


Hold on, not so fast. 


A once over revealed two gouges on my car that weren’t there when I took it in to be fixed. My car wasn’t done after all. Thoroughly frustrated, I wasted a trip to the dealership and left with an approximate timeframe of another day or two before they would be able to repaint those two spots. Did they think I wouldn’t notice??


Not to be outdone by the external forces of stress, my body took in a raging sinus infection causing my head to wish for decapitation.


Finally, on January 31st, my car was returned to my possession but not before it failed the emissions test. It’s a 4 year old vehicle for heaven’s sake, how is that possible? As it turns out, not driving it for 4 weeks is the culprit of one more hurdle. Just add it to the list.


So far, 2011 has been a bad time to scale back the drinking because right now, that’s all I want to do.


Nevertheless, the dry endeavor continues because after all, what is perseverance without opposition? 


However, a little less opposition would be nice. 

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Just A Reminder


Hey you! Yeah you!

I see you trying to hide. I see you trying to do it all by yourself. Your shoulders are tight with knots from pulling those heavy pieces of your past. You don’t want to be an imposition. You don’t deserve the help. That’s what you tell yourself. You want to prove that you are good enough to hold up your end of the bargain. You don’t want any favors. You don’t want to owe anything to anyone. You could never pay them back. They say the borrower is a slave to the lender. You don’t want to be anyone’s slave. You’ve been taken advantage of. You fear taking advantage of someone else. You stay out of sight. You do what you can but it’s never enough, not in your eyes. You’re lost inside. Spinning in circles, looking for something that will make you satisfied with yourself. You should be farther along. You should have a plan and be able to figure out the next step. It floods you day and night. The more you try to find the answer, the next step or the strength you have lost, the more overwhelmed you become. “I’m not worth it”, you say.  “I’ve spent my life wrongly and anything right in me that others see is a sham”. I know how you feel. You wonder how anyone could love you. You don’t love yourself. It’s written on your face. You run when things become more than you can handle. You hide when the answers are hard too face. You hate that about yourself but you’ve never dealt with hard things head-on. You find the quickest way to dodge a bullet. You side step the truth as if avoiding it will make it go away. You haven’t done the right thing. You know it.  You’ve hurt the ones you love. You don’t know how to fix it so you don’t acknowledge it. You pretend it isn’t there. Still, on the inside you roll in disappointment and wade in regret. You cuddle up to inadequacy and bed down with self-hatred. Shame is the blanket you that keeps you down.

But…

Don’t you know that you are enough? It’s all an illusion; those things in your head. You can fight back. You must throw off shame. Believe that your mistakes are meant for learning and growing but you are not a mistake. All the stuff that others think, it doesn’t matter. You won’t be lost without your pride. Your walls, I know they provide a place to hide but it’s a false sense of security. You are the strongest when you trust and are open. Stop looking around at others for validation and stop trying to stuff yourself into the box in which they live. Who says that you should have already reached that line in the sand? “They” are not you and you are not “they”. That is ok. Believe it. Believe that you are loved exactly as you are; with all your flaws and all your failings. Believe that what you have to offer is unique and no one is more qualified than you. Believe that some days others need you and other days, you need them. It’s not a slave-master thing. It’s a give-and-take-friendship thing. Let go of the past. Let go of disappointment and regret. Their comfort is like a boa constrictor. They are squeezing the life out of you but you have the strength to cut them loose. Stop punishing yourself for all the ways you think you don’t measure up. Open your eyes and see the value of who you are. You deserve to live. You are worthy of love. 

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

The Blizzard


I’m not talking about the comforting ice cream treat known for its gravity defying deliciousness.

Unfortunately, this is not that kind of blizzard.


  Connecticut



When there's two feet of snowflakes, whipping wind and nose-numbing temps that's when I wish I was on the equator with 'The Blizzard' in a cup. 

Saturday, January 1, 2011

The Year of Miracles

mir·a·cle[mir-uh-kuhl]
–noun
1. an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.
2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.
3. a wonder; marvel.

I don’t know about you but I need a miracle; more than one, actually.

There are things in my world that keep blinding me with a flashing sign that says, “impossible”.

There are things that keep telling me, “Give up. It doesn’t matter. Things will never change.”

There are things that haven’t changed in all my adult years.

There are things that I’ve come to accept and things I have stopped fighting for. 

There are things that I have lost hope for and there are things that have grated my faith into a pile of dust.

So, this year I need miracles.

I need to find hope and faith again.

I need a work of God that is beyond my human powers and in 2011 that’s what I’m asking for and that’s what I’ll be looking for because in the words of Reepicheep, "All's not as lost as it seems".