Tag Archives: beginnings and endings

Meandering

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When I have something that I need to get done because of a deadline, either my own or required by something or someone else, I can find so many other things to do instead of what I need to get done.  It isn’t a matter of procrastination, which is a different form of avoidance.  An example….I wanted to write this blogpost an hour ago.  Instead I agreed to watch a show on television.  I don’t watch television because I don’t have the attention span unless there is something else I need to do.  Mind you I never sit idle.  I worked all day at one job, drove to the cleaners, and then to the second job.  I left work and headed to the gas station.  I let the gas tank get to a pretty precarious level and then I fill it. I was putting that off but I don’t like to challenge myself in that arena.  I drove home, parked and came upstairs and began baking a cake and biscotti.  While I was in a flurry of activity, I had started writing in my head.  Translating that into actual virtual writing took a bit of time.

Sometimes, I make a list and count the items and then organize them by importance.  Sometimes I decide to alphabetize the list and then list them in reverse importance.  Sometimes I write the list backwards (sdarwkcab) just to put off what I need to get done. Several months ago,  I had a report due that was required by an attorney.  It was important to my client.  I hate writing reports.  Instead that day, the spices in my cabinet caught my eye, actually both eyes.  I realized, with horror, that some of them might have expired.  I realized that I might have duplicates and could throw out the old ones.  I did a google search and found out which ones lose their essence first and the shelf life of others.  So for those who didn’t know this, some spices last four years but others only 1-2.  Saved you a google search. You’re welcome.  I took all the spices off the shelves and out of the drawer.  I would agree that I have a lot of spices.  I then cleaned the shelves, sorted through the spices and did the discard and then reorganized them both by height and alphabetically.  It’s not a waste of time, even though to the untrained eye it might appear that way.  I felt better, and the report then was written.

In many ways I am a point A to point B type of person.  I live with a point A to point S and back to point J and then possibly to LMNOP.  He is a  meanderer.  I have learned to slow down and take the long way.  The first time we drove a long distance I was sure that I was going to celebrate a couple of birthdays during the time we were on the road. It just seemed so long and winding.  I was waiting for the destination, per usual.  Then I started to pay attention to realize that there were a lot of back roads and alternatives that my FHB knew.  We ended up where we wanted to go, albeit slower than I might have considered.

Writing tends to be where I meander.  Baking is as precise as I get with good results.  Writing requires having blind faith in my own ability to let the words lead me to a satisfying end.  Knowing when something is done is also a skill both in writing as in baking.  To go off half-baked would leave some hungry for more or dissatisfied, and would make me seem flaky.  I’m done.

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Missed Perceptions

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The expression “I was waiting at the airport when my ship came it” comes to mind.  The last Monday in July and I had a lot of places to go and subsequently a lot of time to channel my ADD (maybe ADD-H)  and consider all the things I didn’t do and whether opportunity knocked and I was in the basement and whether it really matters or is part of the big, gigantic plan from the universe.

If you take a good look at the railroad crossing, you will notice the gates(not sure if that is the technical term) are going up or going down. I am sure if you are a train person or have a trained eye (sorry), you can assess whether the train was on it’s way past or had already passed by.  Time is up.  The train had passed and I missed it.  I was looking forward to seeing it rolling along and counting the cars.  By the time I got to the point where I had to stop, I realized that I didn’t actually  know if it was coming or going.  Then, please follow this very circuitous train of thought…. (sorry about the puns …I must have taken an extra Vitamin B obnoxious), did it matter in my life, at that moment and would it matter.  I quickly determined that lots of things may present themselves at any given moment,  but we don’t necessarily avail ourselves of them.  When I was in middle school (which in New York City was called a junior high school) we had choices about which high school we might want to go to.  Several of the magnet high schools required an entrance exam.  I was allowed, by my parents, to take the exam for the High School of Music and Art, not to be confused with the High School for the Performing Arts (of “Fame”).  I applied for the Arts program and I was accepted.  It was not in a good neighborhood in Manhattan and bordered Harlem. It was the 1960s.  Someone was murdered in that neighborhood, shortly after I got the acceptance letter, and that dream was dashed.  My parents worried about the commute and rightfully so, I can say in retrospect and yet, maybe my “destiny” might have taken me on another path.  Oddly enough Paul Stanley of “KISS” would have been a classmate had I attended and then more oddly, Bruce Kulick another short term member of “KISS” was a classmate at the high school I ended up attending.  I didn’t really like the band so I guess it is of little consequence.

Ending up in Massachusetts has hardly been the end of anything.  It was the beginning of finding out what has unfolded after 41 years of moving out of “The City”.  It has all the components of a wonderful story with romances, successful and failed, parenthood,  and grandparenthood.  It encompasses learning what my curiosity about people would lead me to professionally.  It showed me how to move, and move again and then again, and how to pack up memories but discard the ones that I don’t need to dwell on.  It showed me how to forge new friendships, and to let go of others that did not endure.  It’s hardly a  “Tale of Two Cities” though it did have the best and worst of times.  It was about understanding being patient when a train goes by, because it wasn’t my train.

The end of the alone part of my day landed me at the beach at three in the afternoon.  I knew that as I arrived, people were packing up to head on their way.  I waited patiently for the stragglers to leave.  I was alone with the beach and a few seagulls.  I used to get angry at my parents for bringing us to the beach on Long Island late in the day, long after the concession stand closed, and long after the crowds had left.  By the time we got there, we missed the action, but the beach was deserted and it was ours as far as the eye could see.  I think they knew the secret of timing for the right reason.  The beach will be there long after we are gone. Nature, the equilizer, that calms even the most ADD of us.