Well, I'm not sure what to say today, but it feels like I need to write something. I don't like a lot of the pictures I have taken over the past few days, so I am avoiding doing picture of the day posts. I also have to upload my pictures from my phone, which doesn't take much time, but I am using it as more incentive to do less...if that makes sense.
It has been nice to set an expectation and goal for myself to post at least once a day. Brian and I talked about coming up with three things that we could do every single day. It needs to be reasonable, obtainable, and sustainable. The list can include one goal for the mind/emotions, one for the body, and one for any other category. Since we are both in the midst of planning our futures and planning them together, it feels important that we don't get lost in the we-should-be-doings and the I-wish-I-hads. Having these goals helps us to feel productive, like we are working toward a larger goal. I have two right now: work out for at least 30 minutes every day and write at least one blog post every day. I am still working on a third.
What's great about blogging is that there is a way for me to write every single day, and I can catalog all of my thoughts and look back on them later. I like the idea of having a compendium of my own experiences at my fingertips. This process has also been therapeutic. At the end of this semester, I finished therapy with a counselor at Temple. We had nearly 50 sessions together over the last year and a half. I went in skeptical - I had a positive and so-so experience at Lehigh. The first counselor I went to after my mom died was great. He took another job though and I didn't go back until later in grad school. I was pretty indifferent in terms of my feelings about the second guy, and I just stopped going back after winter break.
This time around, my counselor was a woman about my age. She was in the midst of her training. At first, I was super uncomfortable, but as the sessions went on, I found that therapy did became a place where I could work through all the emotions and difficulties and good things any given week brought. When I brought up my blogging, we discussed the idea that it could be a great transition into another kind of therapy, the direction of which is entirely dictated by me.
I wish that I had understood much sooner that therapy is a good thing, something everyone should have the opportunity to do. I wish someone my age now had told me to take advantage of the free services that colleges offer. I would have gone as an undergrad if I could have grasped just how important it is to be able to talk to an impartial person and sort our the mess of ideas in my head. I learned a lot about myself over this past year and a half. So much has changed. I feel more capable of recognizing what causes me stress and how my system of dealing with stress may play on or be affected by the loss of my mom. There is still a lot to sort through, but it feels like now I at least have the tools to do the sorting.
Yeah, this is exactly why I don't want a big dog. They can be so sweet and loving and gentle, but they don't know their own strength and clearly when they get excited they turn into crazy monster dogs from hell.
These next pictures are way better. HOVER ANIMALS!
Date Taken: 5/25/12
Setting: Penn's Landing
Thoughts: Brian and I walked a bit to stretch our legs and get out of the apartment. Later, I found myself down by Penn's Landing after he had to leave for work. I saw some incredible beauty, in the flowers, in the long grass, in the water. For a while I sat on a ledge next to an inlet with my back propped against a large pole. I just sat there, letting my mind wander, enjoying the cool breeze coming off the water.
Since the inception of my picture a day project, I have been infinitely more attentive to natural beauty, yet I still feel consumed by a restlessness that I feel is somehow related to the quick pace of American life and the need to be constantly plugged in. It seems I can no longer lose myself in the dreamspace of my childhood, at least in that all consuming way I could before. I am restless, antsy. A sense of guilt runs through me as I think about all the things I should probably be doing instead.
If money wasn't an issue, I would probably find myself in my own darkroom, developing pictures I've taken. I would spend my days wandering around, taking photographs, interacting with people, then return to my darkroom for peace and privacy, giving in to my reclusive side. It seems like that would be a peaceful life, a satisfying life - to create art, to capture beauty where others had not thought to see it. Perhaps someday my darkroom dream will become at least a partial reality.
Date Taken: 5/24/12
Setting: Old City and beyond
Thoughts: I took a nice stroll through the city on this particular day. I had no destination in mind, no real purpose other than to get out of the apartment and get some fresh air. As I walked past this bird perched on a windowsill, I was struck by how close it let me get to it. These pictures are cropped a bit, but that bird really let me get pretty close. It was like that little birdie was striking poses for me, turning from side to side so I could admire it completely. I like that, perhaps subconsciously because I am rereading The Hunger Games and birds play such an important role.
As I walked, I took in the beauty of the day and just tried to capture small bits of it as I passed. There is history in these places, in the walls and windows, in the pavement. It is difficult to imagine our famous forefathers walking these same roads, or to think that a town crier probably delivered messages rather than the individual cellular devices we have at our disposal. Despite the fact that so much has changed, I suspect that the birds, the trees, the color of the day time sky, the shadows that play across buildings in the late afternoon sun are very much the same. These small things connect us to the past. I wonder if there will be any of these things left to connect our future to us.
Date Taken: 5/23/12
Setting: McGillan's Bar
Thoughts: I started this post the other day, and now I don't really want to write about this day at all. It was a great day - I got to spend time with Brian, walk around the city, eat tacos and drink beer at an interesting bar. But, I suppose that a consequence of writing on a delay and talking about past events several days later is that sometimes, I just don't want to talk about those days anymore.
Today, I spent the entire day allowing an email to annoy me. Having access to my email on my phone is great sometimes, but most of the time it just makes me reachable at all hours in all places. I have developed a habit of checking my email as soon as I wake up, largely because I was a TA for two early morning classes this past year, and I wanted to make sure I didn't miss any messages from the professors. I hate this habit. I am going to stop it.
I didn't even read the full email this morning, I just caught the first line and was disgusted. In the scheme of things, the line I read was fairly innocuous, but it pissed me off all day. I am tired of the fact that there doesn't seem to be anything sacred about authority anymore. I'm not saying we should ever question it, but why do people assume that they somehow have a right to question every single little decision that is made. If I ever did that to my coaches, they would have looked at me and laughed and told me to lace up my shoes because I was going to be running.
Sometimes, I wish it was that simple, that I could just be stone faced all the time and say, well you won't need your stick today, just bring your running shoes. There is a pain and anguish in running sprints... full field sprints...repeated full field sprints...in the heat of a summer afternoon on the turf. It is the great equalizer. It doesn't really matter how good you are at running, it is about not breaking mentally. It is a punishment that people fear and respect at the same time. It is a tangible and instant consequence for misbehaving, for being rude, for giving up and not trying. It is a message to a player and a team that if one person gives up, then we all suffer. It is a message that we all have a role to play and we damn well better get on board with that role. It is a message that we are adults now and mommy and daddy can't step in and make everything better.
I sometimes have a coaching fantasy where the players have left all kinds of trash on the sidelines. When they come back for the next session, each piece of disgusting trash is lined up in front of them and they run a full field sprint for each piece of trash. I know that is probably an odd fantasy. I think fantasy is actually too strong of a word. What I like about this idea is that it makes every single person on the end line responsible for mess, for the disrespect they show to the staff and the school and each other when they leave their garbage on the field like spoiled brats. It is my way of breaking down the bad habits and attitudes of superiority that people so often feel and in its place, building self respect and discipline and pride.
I want to use this ideology and this method in all scenarios, not just in sports. Running is a punishment that puts people in their place and makes them better at the same time - more humble, more mentally strong. I want so badly to just say, you know what, you're being insolent and selfish, get on the line.
Perhaps even in saying all this I am being inherently hypocritical. I can feel the tone of my own words oozing with disdain and a sense of superiority. Maybe I am a hypocrite, but I am a hypocrite with the decency to have some self respect. I am tired of rolling over and letting people walk all over me, while I sit there thinking I deserve to be treated as an inferior. I forget my own cunning, my wit, my ability to manipulate language. I forget that sometimes, I get to have things that I want without having to explain myself. I forget that I do things for other people all the time, almost exclusively at the expense of my happiness or comfort. Sometimes, I can't give in, even when a situation is silly or inane. Sometimes, I want, quite simply, for people to stop being so damn useless and lazy and pretentious and start actually contributing to society. That would be nice.
Date Taken: 5/22/12
Setting: Old City area
Thoughts: The more aware I am of wanting to take pictures of flowers, the more I realize that the city is full of all kinds of interesting flowers that have their own unique kind of beauty. I find myself looking closer at flowers as I walk through Philly...not like stop and smell the roses closer, physically closer. I am always amazed at the intricate detail, the vibrant colors and lines. The variety of colors has been particularly striking. Some are bold and lush, some are light and airy - they all have a fresh painted quality that makes them look unreal.
These particular flowers caught my eye because of the unusual light orange color, especially because it was set off by a deep purple at the core. The centers of these flowers are unexpected. They remind me of a disco ball or bubbling lava or a vortex entrance to another world. Perhaps, in their own way, these flowers are taking me to another world. Maybe this is an opportunity to gain back that childhood dream space I am craving. Perhaps I have been drawn to flowers in the past weeks because I am in need of time each day to simply be, to reflect on the little mysteries of life, to be lost in another world that is wholly unfamiliar but also exciting and full of possibilities. I still don't plan on ever growing any flowers of my own, and Brian knows that if he gives me a flower I will throw it to the ground and stomp on it, but they sure are nice to look at.
Date Taken: 5/21/12
Setting:
Thoughts: My dad was driving me into the city on this particular day. He pointed out the haze around the tops of those buildings. This picture isn't terribly profound, I just thought, like my dad, that this image was interesting, so here it is. I've taken pictures of this area before, I suppose it is nice to just see the same things in a different way sometimes.
Date Taken: 5/20/12
Setting: My dad's house
Thoughts: When I was little, I spent hours on end playing outside by myself. As an only child living on the outskirts of a neighborhood, I had to make my own fun. I would shoot baskets, push myself with a giant walking stick on the circle swing in the backyard, juggle a soccer ball, and rollerblade while shoot hockey pucks at the tiny wall between the garage doors. I would hit tennis balls at that wall, and later as an adult, I would hit field hockey balls into it. I even used to take golf balls and a club into the side yard and drive them toward the camp.
The funniest thing to watch was probably pushing myself on the swing. I would get a little stepping stool and the walking stick and go to town. It was a swing that had a small circular seat with a rope through it that was looped over a thick branch. It was the best swing. My dad made it for me and it was a blast to have someone grab the bottom rope and fling you around in a circle. I got pretty good at propelling myself with that walking stick.
I would always day dream in those long hours outside. I made up fantasy worlds in my head and would play them out, imagining characters, scenarios, and dialog. I even used to bring a giant stack of fake multicolored money from the board game LIFE and an old white cordless phone. I would pretend that I was independently wealthy, but fair.
Now, as I sit on the porch and look out at the backyard, I think about my parents watching me from the kitchen window. I think about the creativity and imagination I now have, born out of those countless hours playing sports and dreaming up other worlds. I think about my athleticism, perhaps made well rounded by the various sports I practiced alone and the ridiculous accuracy it took to not smash the windows on either side of a wall that was about the size of a twin bed. Don't get me wrong, I smashed a lot of tiles above it and several windows...but, in the scheme of things, not that many.
In some ways, I ache for that time when all I could see in front of me was the brisk fall air, a ball, and a wall. I miss walking inside to find my mom cooking something that smelled delicious. I miss driving to practices with my dad. I miss the way I used to yearn to be outside, to have space and time to let my mind wander. I miss the fact that I used to find playing outside a joy and now I have to remind myself to leave my room on days that I don't have any obligations.
There was something infinitely simpler about not just childhood, but a life without so many distractions, so many modes of getting information, so many channels to plug into. I imagine that every generation comes up against this nostalgic longing for the good old days and yearns for a simpler time. I know each age or era is in itself complicated, messy, not as good as we think it was, but I can't help but wonder if our latest technology has brought us to a place that we can never turn back from. Of course, inventions like cars, radio, and television shrunk the world, but the internet has sucked us in in a way that I don't think those other technologies were capable of doing.
I hope that as I continue to embark on a journey to simplify my life, I will regain that urge to find myself outside, mind wandering, dreaming up new worlds. I hope that I can empower myself with media and technology rather than letting it control me. It is a tall order these days, but I am hopeful.
Date Taken: 5/19/12
Setting: Laura's house
Thoughts: We were having a small baby shower for Rachel. Rachel and Laura have been my phd partners in crime. From the first semester, we clicked and found great resources in each other. The whole program is filled with people who genuinely want to help the people coming up behind them. It is a relief to ask someone's opinion and know that there is no ulterior motive behind their answer. I have asked many a person in my program for advice, and in particular, I have turned to Rachel and Laura to help me make decisions or to bounce ideas off of.
Laura and her family are moving to Wisconsin next year. I am sad to lose a member of our cohort and to see a third of Stelar (Steph, Laura, and Rachel...with our power combined, we are, Stelar...) head off in another direction. I suspect that these women will be in my life for a long time and that I will send them many an email as we all try to navigate life after a phd.
At the shower, we had a nice time with some other female members of our cohort. It is always nice to see each other outside of a school setting. Today was particularly special because we got to spend the afternoon with HoJeong's daughter. HoJeong is married to another member of our cohort and they have two small children. It amazes me how quickly this child has grown. She was born only just before our first semester of our first year began. Now, she is bouncing all around, crying, smiling, climbing, and laughing. She is a little person.
It was interesting to watch HoJeong with her daughter. I'm used to seeing Laura with her kids, and now I am used to seeing Rachel with a baby in her belly, but I so rarely see HoJeong outside of class that it was fascinating to see her as a mother. HoJeong is quiet, she is unassuming, but there is a fire behind her eyes that reflects a host of interesting life experiences. She held her daughter close as her daughter rubbed the sleep from her eyes and blinked into the sunlight. She was cranky, yet somehow HoJeong managed to make that pouty baby laugh and smile.
I took so many pictures of these two because I just think they are beautiful. Perhaps I am more keenly aware of mothers and daughters now that my own is gone. Perhaps the image of HoJeong's daughter pushing her tired face into her mother reminded me of how comforting it could be to hug my mom, or rather, to have her hug me, shield me from whatever person or situation was making me feel helpless or frightened. I think, most of all, watching HoJeong and her daughter, Laura and her daughter, and Rachel and her unborn daughter made me wonder what my future holds.
Having kids, well, it's a lot of work, work that is never done, work that lasts a lifetime, work that is often thankless and requires constant self sacrifice. I am certainly not ready for that now, but could I be in the future? The thought of a baby taking over my body is truly horrifying. It scares me to think of all the things that could go wrong for the baby at any given moment whether it is inside of me or out. I don't have a verdict yet, but I do know that if I could make a child smile the way that HoJeong gets her daughter to smile, all that work and fear would be well worth it.
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