Day 83 (Or: Stop! Collaborate and Listen!)

When in doubt, don't - Benjamin Franklin
When in doubt, do it - Oliver Wendell Holmes
When in doubt, tell the truth - Mark Twain
When in doubt, eat chocolate - me.

Into every life, a little doubt must creep.  A little:  "What the hell am I doing?"  A little:  "What the hell are YOU doing?"  A little: "FOR THE LOVE OF CORN, WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"

When this happens to yours truly, I have a tendency to slide down a long slippery slope (lined with razor blades) of whininess, crabbiness, over-perfection, and ironically - avoidance.

Advice:  STOP!  Collaborate, and listen!  (Vanilla Ice - good in coffee, and good for a bit of comic relief...and...good for soothing a doubt riddled soul?)

Stop!  Hold it.  That's right, don't just gaze down the gaping maw of doubt, being ever drawn forward toward the things that might not even need to be asked, let alone have an answer.  Just check yourself before you wreck yourself, will you?

Collaborate! Good.  Now that you've pulled yourself back from the precipice, let's just see if we can put your head back on straight.  Let's get on that collaboration thing. I'm not sure what Vanilla Ice meant by "collaborate" (he goes on to describe how he "flows like a harpoon"...what a maniac), but what I mean when I say it is:

• (1.) Friends are important, and they're really good at helping one get to the heart of the matter (even when we don't want to go there) - it's an even better experience when there's chocolate involved.  
• So (2.) get with somebody else, get out of your own head, stop being so stinking self involved - give something, do something for others, be something other than what you're doubting.  It helps.  
• (3.) Testing?  TESTING!  So...are you really in the rut you thought you were in?  Did you find something better to focus on?  Did you decide that you're sort of all right in a funny sort of a way?  Excellent.  That's as it should be.  You're awesome.  We're all awesome, really.  Even when we're full of doubt.  
• Because (4.)  Doubt is an important part of the human process.  We question, and we solve.  That's what we do.  Drowning in doubt is one thing, but a healthy dose of doubt can nudge us toward something incredible, if we let it, if we don't dive face first into it, but instead gently take it in.

...And Listen!  Little doubt worms won't become big doubt worms if we ask ourselves daily what/who/why we are, and then answer...and then LISTEN.  Free journal (write and write and write), draw, intentional breathing, yoga, be with it.  IT being the question and the answer.  Listen to yourself, listen to friends, listen to the QUESTION in the doubt and the ANSWER in the dark.  It's all there, and these smaller questions, answered daily, are the key to living.

If Vanilla Ice says it's so, then it is.

Day 83 Down, 917 to go.

Day 77 (Or: Earth Without Art is Just "EH")

I'm an artist. Sort of. I'm an aspiring artist? A wanna-be artist? A pseudo artist? Hmmm...

Okay. Maybe it's not fine art, but I do occasionally produce drawings/paintings/design/collage. Never sold any of it (other than monkeys). I do sell my design capabilities (as in...interior design, web design, graphic design - at Leckenby Co.), but never art. Yet.

I don't exactly have plans to become a visual artist, although I definitely have plans to continue artistically living my life - viewing, creating, appreciating, befriending... BUT! I live in this delightful artists community, where you can't swing a dead sable without hitting an artist or an aspiring artist, and as it happens, one of my besties runs a cooperative gallery.

THAT means that I get to shmooze with local artist appreciators, rub elbows with several seriously talented fine artists, and help disseminate art in the world. Generally.

Last month I started helping my friends on Gallery Walk night (the first Saturday of the month, new shows debut, artists are available for discussion, and generally, art is celebrated with food, wine and good company), and now, on the first Saturday of each month, and in particular, Day 77 of One Thousand Days, you can find me at The Red Raven Gallery, helping my friends Laurie McClave, and Sarah Fitch to make the world more beautiful and interesting.

Hints, should you wish to enjoy/partake of/or serve at a gallery walk:

1. Although gallery walk is known as a bit of a walking booze fest, never serve more than two fingers of wine, as you want people to be precisely smashed (not overly, and not underly) in order to effectively help them to appreciate/buy art.

2. By god, you'd better know what you're talking about, or believe that you know what you're talking about, or have an intention to know what you're talking about, if you want to talk about art.

3. Take that last little hint and stuff it in the toilet, because EVERYONE, and I do mean everyone, has something important to say about art. That's why there IS art. To get us thinking. And even if all you have to say is: "That looks like my cat!", it's a valuable assessment, in my book.

4. Do not - DO NOT - be a snob. Damnit. Yuck.

77 down, 923 to go.

Day 71 (Or: More About The Hood!)

Day 71, Continued!

Just in case you haven't already seen the ream of pictures and information from the Boy-Child's and my house building adventure, you can check out the loveliness here!

Highlights:

Day 52 (or: I've been Called)

Alright.  Hold onto your hats, because it's about to get a little weird up here in the blog.
Woo-woo weird. 

But life's like this sometimes, and one of the things that I've realized, slowly, since letting go of The Bad Relationship, and Corporate Life (alright - both of those things let go of me, but who's counting?), is that there's a message in the silence, in the moments in between.  We can listen to those messages or we can ignore them, and on Day 52 of One Thousand Days, I chose to listen.

Okay.  That last paragraph was only slightly woo-woo, but NOW it's going to get positively bizarre, so I really can't blame you if you want to skip down the page a bit.  Here's what's been going on:  I belong to a fellowship (read:  "church"), where I have been a volunteer youth educator on and off throughout the years, for various ages of kiddos.  This year, I agreed again to be an educator for the Middle School kids.  Ever since I made that agreement, I've been having all of these near-ESP-ish moments of synchronicity, in which someone repeats something I've been thinking on for a day or so, or I dream something that then happens the next day, or my thoughts settle on something that eventually is reality within the week. 

If you read through that paragraph, I TOLD YOU SO!  Weird.  Eventually this strangeness convinced me (hold on to your boots!) that I was being "called."  Called to be involved with the kiddos, and specifically involved with the kiddos QUUF in my sweet little home town. 

So I offered myself (weird ESP story and all) to our "church" Youth R(eligious) E(ducation) Director, and came home with the promise of more Middle School Madness than is healthy for any sane person (as I've demonstrated here, my sanity may be in question, so I'm PERFECT for the job!), and a craft project!  I LOVE CRAFTS! 

Day 52 of One Thousand Days, I'm going to put together the scrap book for the Youth Coming of Age program my son (that's him in the upper-center of the photo, below) and about 15 other kiddos went through last year.  Hurrah!

52 Down, 948 to go.

Oh, and I fluffed up the logo...it's not drastically different, but it's different!

Day 45 (or: Walk it, Baby, Walk it!)

Yep.  It's valentines day again.  Can't seem to avoid it.  At least once a year, inundated by pink, and red and sugar and mooshy love. 

Meh.  Forget that.  I'm'ona eat steak, drink bloody mary's and shop.

And once again pledge to walk to raise awareness and funds for the National MS society.

In April, darling child and I will be walking in the area "walk" with our friend the who shouldn't be suffering from this terrible illness on the "Sole Sisters" team.  Nobody should be suffering with it.  Least of all, someone who's spunky. 

Day 45 of One Thousand Days, I do exactly what I was doing about a year ago on day 28. I pledge to walk.  Want to join us?  Or fund us?  Or point and laugh at us?  Just click the links below to check out the possibilities.

45 down, 955 to go.  

Day 42 (or: Garden Party with The Soprano's)

I have a brand new obsession:  The Soprano's.  I'm currently beginning season 5, and haven't been able to put a finger directly on the appeal of it.  But boy is it appealing.  Goombas...Goomas...Italian food and a whole heck of a lot of moral ambiguity.  Or straight up moral ineptitude.  Take your pick.  Either way, I'm loving it, and am relishing spending the Holy Day immersed in the disgusting under-belly of New Jersey in my own living room, no less.  Heaven.

But the REAL good things that were the bulk of my work today, involved coordining soccer snacks, hot drinks, canopy for a cold game, coach gifts, kid gifts, and working on a gift certificate for my church's annual service auction and dinner.  My "service" being a garden party hosted in the gorgeous garden made possible by said church.  My beautiful yard was made possible by my fellows at church (more than 30 of them) who, 2 1/2 years ago, came to the house with cuttings, clippings, snippings, bulbs, seeds and divisions from their own yards. 

My first spring in this home was a constant surprise, watching things I didn't know were there coming out of the ground, watching cuttings grow by leaps and bounds.  My yard, which is one of my very favorite things in my life, is entirely the result of the love from my church.

Day 42 of One Thousand Days, I made my pledge of $200.00 in service to my fellows.  Lovely fellows.

42 down, 958 to go.

Day 23 (or: of Swastikas and Lollipops)

Just because I love contradictions. Nothing as wonderful as the opposites that exist in our world. Earthly opposites, political opposites, legendary opposites, philosophical opposites, emotional opposites, intellectual opposites. I am fairly skilled, I must say, in holding on to two opposing ideas. You can frequently find me play devil’s advocate (much to the annoyance of those who spend any appreciable amount of time with me), and pointing out the dualities that exist in the world around us.

Today, as a major departure from swastika dealings, I went to a Unitarian planning meeting to begin planning a middle school retreat weekend. A weekend which will be complete with snacks, and outings, and field trips and dances and scavenger hunts and capture the flag, and girls sleeping in one room and boys sleeping in the other. So wholesome. So innocent. The planning meeting was attended in equal numbers by youth and by adults. The youth, rather than swearing and being petulant, couldn’t stop with the effusiveness (seriously! And adults just indulged them in their effusiveness, no doubt thinking that it was a wonderful thing). I was actually stunned into silence by the complete oppositeness of the kind of planning and dealings that I have at “church” and the kind of planning and dealings that I have every day at work. Silence. Me.

At one point, one of the young-uns was dismayed by the “offensive graphiti” in one of the places the kids were hoping to visit. “We’ll have to cover it up before we can enjoy ourselves.” She said with youthful innocence. Cover it up! Cover what up (I query with a bit of rascally devil's advocacy, knowing precisely what things we'll be covering up)? Swear words? Graphic depictions of body parts? SWASTIKAS? The things that appear every day in the coffee-house I work at? Those things? So in essence, one group of kids I work with is expressing their angst by making raw depictions of the world they inhabit, and the other group of kids I work with is busy covering up all that angst and living brightly in the world of possibilities they see.

Now, don’t get any ideas here. I’m not expressing preference for one group of kids or the other. I’ve already said that I love teenagers, and I mean it. I love all flavors of teenager-ness. I’m just noting the complete and total contradiction. And loving it.

Day 23 of One Thousand Days I embraced the differences in this crazy world and switched gears from swastikas and swear words to lollipops and loveliness. Helping a different group of kids build their capacities and find their way in the world. And what a wild world it is that we live in.

23 down, 977 to go.

Day 22 (or: Swastikas? Really?)

Intriguing title, no? Here’s the story: I work for a non-profit youth resource center and coffee house. Very alternative. Very non-traditional. Very unconventional. Very cool. Very troubled and messy and loving and brilliant. LOVE these kids. So incredibly There and Out There with it all. I tend to adore teenagers for just such reasons. They’re completely messy intensity makes me happy. But, unfortunately, they like swastikas (I’m taking some artistic license here. Really, probably only one or two of them like swastikas, and "like" is probably a bit strong, given the penchant for feigned ennui so unfortunately abundandtly inherent in all things young adult). They like to tag swastikas. And they like to paint soap swastikas on the floor in the bathroom. And they like to use a pencil and oh-so-softly carve swastikas into the soft wood of the counter tops in our lovely coffee shop. And apparently, they like to do swastika-esque things in other places around town as well.

Are they Nazis? No. Are they hate-mongerers? No. Do they indulge in white supremacist thought processes? Gee, I sure hope not. And I’m pretty sure, no. Are they expressing themselves? Yes. Is it a fairly harmful way of expressing themselves? Oh yeah.

As with anything Kid or Human, when one person expresses onesself, it can, in some cases cause a complete hurricane of backlash. And in this case, the semi-drawn out appearance of swastikas in our beautiful coffee shop caused some angst among staff. And staff (kid volunteers, for the most part) figured they might be able to address things fairly well, and they were right. Someone suggested that we invite the community who may be the most affected by a swastika to be a part of the Solution For Swastikas, and that’s when things got really big. This very small town has a loving and involved Jewish community, who lovingly (and at times fearfully) helped get some really incredible stuff going on at our coffee shop and in our community in response to the appearance of swastikas.

That was a really long and drawn out (I’m sorry, Holly) explanation of what led to what I’m doing on Day 22. Day 22 of One Thousand Days, I made spaghetti for 3 adults and about a million kids as a non-intense way of having a conversation about symbols and hate and where these things come from and what we do about them. The first “thing” in a series of “things” (including a showing of a movie at our local theater, a “primal scream” event, a series of rap sessions, an art installation and a open theatrical dialog) that will address hate, symbols, free speech and several other complicated things about the world we live in.  Day 22 should probably count as several Days, given the amount of involvement it's taken to get to this point. 

Did I mention that I have seven followers now? Hi Shelley! And a friend stopped me on the street to say she'd read the blog and found it amusing.  And I got my first comment from someone I don't even know.  Apparently I've found my calling.  Boy, what a responsibility, all this Living Up to My Potential business.

22 down, 978 to go.

Day 10 (or: We're into the double digits, lets eat!)

Today marks the first milestone for One Thousand Days. I’m into the double digits! Which means that I’ve got 990 days left, or that I’ve accomplished %1 of my commitment. Cool. I’ve been a bit more than worried (as you might have been able to tell from previous posts) that I’d poop out and this would be a terrible flop and Holly would be beating me up for being lame. But in those 10 days, I’ve done good for my family, for the earth, for my town, for my soul, for the kiddos I work with and for my friends. I’ve been able to hone in on what I’ll be doing in these One Thousand Days (make small commitments, long term commitments, commitments to others as well as to myself), and most importantly, I’ve been able to stay away from the bad relationship. For the most part. He’s managed to sneak back in through the cracks (cell phone – couldn’t block him), but I’m kept from behaving badly by remembering the positive things that I’m doing, and being responsible to them. Constantly.

On my 10th day, I can’t help thinking about what it will look like on my 990th day. Will life be significantly different? Will the good that I’m doing have any impact on anything other than my own life? Will it even have impact in my own life? Where will I be in 990 days? My son will be a teenager in 9th grade. My yard will be established, the trees might be taller than the house and the gardens will be producing food and flowers. I will have passed my 40th birthday, and my 20-year high school reunion. My mother will be 77. Will I be a college graduate? Will I still be overweight? How many more wrinkles will I grow? And will someone who deserves me love me?

On Day 10 of One Thousand Days, I acknowledge my milestone and look forward to what comes. And I throw a potluck for volunteer staff and board of directors of the Boiler Room, the youth coffee-house and resource center where I’m working right now. This potluck wasn’t my idea, it was our volunteer coordinator’s idea, and a GOOD one! These volunteers give their blood (doing WAY more than One Thousand Days of good), sweat and tears to a place that is home to them and to many others. They deserve so very much more than just a potluck. But then again, there will be MY spaghetti! And I make a mean mean spaghetti. Yum.

10 down, 990 to go.

Day 6 (or: Shhhhh! Don’t tell anyone, this is easier than it looks!)

Day 5 update. Note to self: When Observing an Eco Sabbath, make sure that you haven’t been sick in bed for four days while the house is falling apart around you. Cleaning is an interesting project when you have no electricity. Especially when cleaning laundry on which cats have taken over (what is it about the laundry pile that makes it seem like an ideal toilet?). For the most part, we were appliance/lights/heaters/car/phone free yesterday. Except for the washing machine. And there were some very lovely side effects, too. If I hadn’t had to spend 5 hours sweeping, dusting, mopping, cleaning, it would have been a very restful day. It began with a candle-lit bath, which was utterly relaxing and indulgent. Yes, I know – the hot water heater. But I think I can make an exception for the water. It might be another experiment for one of my Days to completely deprive the family. What would it be like to have NO resources in our lives? Boggles the brain.  And probably worth at least a days worth of devotion from me and mine.  At least.

And since I spent all day yesterday cleaning, why not just continue the trend and share it with others (do you detect the overwhelming joy, er, sarcasm?) Day 6 of One Thousand Days, thank goodness I work for a non-profit youth resource center and coffee house (the best, least expensive cup of coffee in town), The Boiler Room. It makes doing good things so easy. And when I say easy, I mean to say readily available. Nothing about my work is easy, but I digress. Today, along with several kids, and the board member who dreamed it up, I cleaned up the block where the business “lives” in our little downtown. Found: crazy colorful broken glass behind the art gallery, a portion of a dollar bill (why would someone rip up a dollar bill?), several “Broken Spoke” stickers (the new bike store in town – nobody told them stickers were a bad idea) tagging the transit stop, a Frisbee, and 10 pounds of cigarette butts (oddly enough, the bulk of which were NOT located around or near the teen hangout. Hmmm.)

Tonight I’m crawling home at 7:45 p.m., and I’m overwhelmed, and I’m tired and a little dizzy still, and I’m really glad that I wrote most of this in the morning before I went to work. Why does Day 6 feel like Day 554? I have to take this minute to acknowledge that I really want to call the bad relationship up and just be cuddled for a while. Because in truth, none of these good things have cuddled me yet. I can’t imagine why not. I’m really a neat person. Oh, there’s a bit of a warm and fuzzy going on, but nothing I would call truly comforting. Which is such a selfish and terrible thing to say. I probably should have saved that for Day 328. But it is Monday, after all, and I am human. On Mondays. Between 7:42 and 7:58 p.m.

6 down, 994 to go.