Arrow highway, which runs right by my hours, is under construction. They are extending a rail line. This has been planned for more than a decade.
We knew it has been coming, but there are lots of meetings and some disagreement about exactly where it will be built. Some want it there; some want it in another place. But now, it’s being built.
Things have changed since the plan was first conceived.
After the lockdowns happened a year and a half ago, the downtowns in many cities are emptying. Those high-rise buildings with fancy lobbies, busy elevators and high rents are empty since people started working from home. This new situation has caused businesses to re-evaluate their office choices.
Do they need those offices? What is the right amount of space for what they need?
Businesses aren’t the only ones responding to the opportunity of the work from home revolution. What if my livelihood no longer nailed to a place?
The internet is talking about “the great reshuffle. I personally know several people who have made the choice to move from a place with expensive housing costs to a place that is more reasonable.
Things have changed since I made my plans. What am I spending my time and treasure on? Am I getting what I want?
Am I watching what is happening? Am I ready to take advantage of the opportunities that change inevitably brings? If I’m not ready I better get ready. The moment is NOW.
I can watch the construction on the rail line and wonder. I am fairly certain they didn’t change their plans when the world changed. Government projects are notoriously rigid.
The lockdown took a lot of things away. But like Pandora’s box it brought gifts. I can check my assumptions to see if they are still valid. What else is possible? If I push on old boundaries, it could be the walls fall down.
In a wide sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know
That I am… the luckiest
Last week I dropped my daughter off for her first day of Jr. high. She had gone through some agony to choose her outfit.
I remember in 7th grade I was not satisfied with the choices that I had. In my mind, I could have looked so cool. But the clothes I had couldn’t keep up. I landed on a signature choice: I wore different colored socks. I might even wear double slouch socks with four different colors. That was what I did with what I had. The Costco multipack of socks was squeezed of into an expression of uniqueness.
It’s been an elusive goal my whole life. How can I be special?
Life puts out cookie cutter molds and is not polite about making me fit.
Pull back your irrational curls. Lower your voice. Wait your turn. Keep waiting.
You have your place. Stay in your lane.
Yes, it’s nice to belong. It’s scary to stand out.
And yet I want to be seen.
It’s a human need. Kids will cry “Look at me!” And grownups want to find that one person in a sea of humanity. Like the Ben Folds lyric I have at the beginning, to see and be recognized.
You can see a sea. Look at me. See me.
Being subsumed in a group can feel like drowning, but I’m still alive. I’m still here. I don’t belong in anonymity.
No one does.
As much as I want to be seen, I want to see other individuals too. I want to hear your voices. You. Your voice.
That’s the moments I want to live in, listening and sharing. And the world I want to live in. What amazing things can we create together?
Maybe it’s easy for me to lend you a hand when you are too weak.
Maybe you can give me a hug when I need it. Hugs are highly individual.
We can remind each other of our humanity. And I will thank you for it.
It took me forever to finish college. That was the marked-out destination on the game board after high school as far as I knew. But life had gotten in the way and I could cross it off for forever.
In my late twenties I finally got back into a university and began to finish off the required classes. One of the classes was US government or something in that area. The professor was a hundred years old as far as I could tell, but he was so enthusiastic. He loved what he was teaching.
One class, he told us how he started college. He’d gotten in by mail, but he didn’t know how he’d manage to go to college and live.
So he got a suitcase and took—a bus? A train? to the university. He had no money and no place to live, but he was going to go to college. He knew he needed a job first thing. His plan? he walked along the streets of the college and stopped at every business asking for work.
He didn’t get a job that first day. He still had no money. And night came.
The was a park nearby with a couple apricot trees. He took his suitcase to the park and ate the apricots that had fallen from the tree. He slept in the park.
Next day he got up and kept looking for work. He hit the jackpot on the third day with a job and a place to live that came with it. He said he was pretty tired of those apricots.
Hell of a story. He went all the way through to be a professor.
Society was different a hundred years ago.
This last year I’ve been giving my daughter what I call “Independence training.” She’s 12 now. I want her to be able to face whatever life brings her and get what she needs.
I’ve taught her how to do laundry and how to make her bed.
Her favorite skill in the independence category is making ramen soup. She has determined her preferred ratio of flavor packet and water, and makes her own lunch frequently.
What with laundry and ramen soup, I told her she is well on her way to being prepared for college.
College is different in the 21st century. But challenges are always with us. I should probably think about what professor suitcase had and if it can be taught.
Some things change, but some things are always the same. How hungry am I?