Now I've Seen (or Heard) It All

Under the category of, "I've-lived-in-NYC- 22 years-what-haven't-I-seen?' I am pleased to announce that it happened last night on the Amtrak home. Train travel this week has not been pleasant. It began with the horrible commuter train crash in Washington DC, a 4.5 hour trip home Tuesday night (30 minute delay on Amtrak and no-signals on the "F" train), and ended up with what I had hoped would be a quiet ride home last night.

I was on the 5:55pm (Washington to Boston), which moves a bit faster and has more of a 'business suit' crowd. I was able to find a seat to myself and comfortably settled in with my Subway tuna sandwich and Cool Ranch chips (recommendation: put the chips in the sandwich...it's noisy, but yummy!)

Footnote for my techie friends: at least 1/3rd of commuters are now using netbooks on the train, versus full-scale computers.


About 30 minutes into the ride the woman ahead of me, who has been on the phone since I got on the train, begins shifting the conversation. To phone sex. Interesting. Not quite as interesting when you can only hear one side of the conversation. Still...interesting. Now...she was speaking quietly and using an appropriate phone voice, still....

I'm not sure the guy she was talking with (yes, I figured it was a guy through the types of questions she was asking!) was any more comfortable than I was. I learned he'd never done this before ("your first-time, huh? That's ok, I'll help you through it") and I think his comfort level was about equal to mine because after ten minutes to talk she couldn't get him to go any further (for my sports friends: I'd say they were stuck between first and second and he was caught in a run down).

It eventually ended with her saying things like, "so you don't want to tell me that," "why can't you say that?" and "fine, I'm ok with that," then the call ended. I guess she wasn't so 'ok with that'. Poor guy.

I must say...commuting life does have its' moments!

Watching Your Feet

Have you ever watched children when they first learn to walk? They watch their feet. I suppose it's part of being amazed that they can be used for something more than kicking. But I wonder if it's also part of being cautious. If you watch your feet while you walk, you tend to walk more slowly and intentionally. Most of us look down when we're walking down stairs. But we don't look down when we walk around in life. Why? Are we not worried about falling?

When children start walking they begin slowly...watching their feet.

Then they gain momentum and begin moving faster and faster... they look up, begin giggling with enthusiasm and then...crash!

Up again...watch the feet...slowly...a little faster...faster...giggle...look up...laugh...engage everyone around them with eye contact...crash!

I think there's a lesson here. I think we were meant to walk slowly...and watch our feet. But we're human and we love to move fast and laugh and experience the thrill...and the crash.

The White Noise of Life

The white noise of life has infiltrated my mind. I know things I want to sit and focus on...things I want to do...but clearing away the "noise" of life is the challenge.

How do you do it? Really? There are thousands of books written on the subject. I've read 83.4% of them (I got interrupted during the last one).

How do you do it? Prioritization? Life interruptus happens - someone has to do the laundry!

Do you let things go? I repeat...someone has to do the laundry!

Do you try to do it all? Well...I am writing my blog while doing laundry....

What is urgent in life? What is critical? What matters?

What I want to do...what I'm called to do...what I do

Discerning among these can rattle the mind. I don't yet believe I've aligned all three. For instance, right now I want to write. I feel full of stories and not enough time to get them out.
What I'm called to do....hmmmm...I think it has less to do with one's occupation and more to do with how one lives their life.
And what I do? Interestingly enough, I find myself focusing less on the outcomes and more on how I do my job.