Rich or Stubborn?

Snarky attitudes don’t only come from a wealthy background. I find myself on a high horse when I feel a moral push and occasionally shout when the spirit moves me to do so. A friend suggested his co-worker, who tends to get bossy and high-pitched when she does not get her way, has a holier-than-thou position because she is confident she doesn’t really need the income. Her family has enough to feed and clothe her for decades so she has the wealth shield of protection behind her roar. I disagree since I get disenchanted with a system and blare my discontentment. As an employee, the Dog House is a commonplace spot for me. I have tamed the reactive beast in the past eight years or so, yet hardly accept the fact that a disingenuous boss/company/system immoral directive be swallowed without complaint.

So, what is it that gives us the guts to defy an order, to stand up to someone or something when we vehemently disagree?

The Snack Pusher

“Don’t do drugs,” I holler at her as she rounds the corner from airport security to the gate, waving goodbye and blowing me kisses. Glad I pushed umpteen bags of snacks into my child’s luggage before she left the country.

She made it to Izmir! Several delayed flights and one missed connection, a long hike from the airport to the Metro Station and a bit of confusion about which station to hop off to catch another route further south. More walking ensued, with too many bags, a plea for assistance with the Security Guard, who does speak English, at the Main Entrance to Yasar University. He eventually tracked down a gent (after about 100 phone calls) to help Taelor get the keycard and escort her to her room, even chivalrously assisting with her bags. The dorms are like a “fancy, fancy hotel” and she has the room to herself, for the time being.

I was concerned my young lady would be nervous yet she assured me, she was certain it would all work out in the end, felt relaxed and even happy. I was relieved to communicate with my Valentine, through Facebook this afternoon, and know she is finally in her new spot.

Now I can relax, eat my box of dark chocolates and watch a movie. Ain’t Valentine’s Day grand?

Flight Path

February 13, 2014

Random packing is a problematic method. Tossing things into the suitcases willy nilly creates chaos and confusion upon arrival, especially when determining what one will need for a five month excursion. Fifty pounds doesn’t amount to a lot of weight when taking into account hefty school supplies, liquid skin care products, standard gifts, variety of fashionable shoes, and necessary creative accessories. Not to mention the heartfelt anxious sentiments that take up excess space.

Air Canada flight was delayed coming in so the departure time was pushed half an hour later. Connection in Toronto Airport, with a stopover at Customs, appears to be very tight. Numerous texts flew back and forth, sending compassionate messages regarding the not-so-laughable situation. “Communicate the concerns to the flight attendant and know this is all a part of the adventure to Izmir, Turkey,” I jot to her.

In less than 24 hours, she should be in the dorm room with the three flights, two metro stops, a direct path to the security guard at the Main Gate on Yasar (sounds like Yashar) University Campus, a phone call to the contact person, to direct her to her space and settle-in, behind her.

With tax returns, FAFSA application glaring on her To Do List, she has much to accomplish in the next few days, prior to orientation starting on Monday. Let the brisk wind be at her back.

A Day of Vigor

February 12, 2014

Victory, vamp, vivacious, vivid, vibrant, vacillate, very, vengeance, vigorous, comes to mind long before Valentine’s peers ‘round the corner. Red jumps out to scowl at me from every angle, once I leave the premises. My recollection of a wonderful “V” Day goes way back to sixth grade when a classmate sent a torn red heart cut-out that had “Pala is my Valentine” in squabble letters.

Mrs. “B” told me her great grandson, a nine year old, asked his mother if they could stop by the store on the way to school to get a dozen roses, one for each girl in the class. He thought they deserved more than just a homemade valentine. When his mom told him just how much that effort would cost him, he choked and decided he might be able to do that for the girls next year.

I recall the struggle to get Taelor to keep cutting the jagged hearts, until she had enough for all of the kids. There were many years when she started picking and choosing who would merit a valentine…”No, not him!!” Many lessons on compassion and goodwill came from this particular holiday.

Crunchy Takes the Lead

February 11, 2014

I spotted a jar on the sidewalk in the dark of night. Knowing me as you do, I surely picked it up to toss it into the sack I carry along for garbage and recycling discovered on my treks ‘round the neighborhood. Turns out, it is an intact jar of Jif, extra crunchy. Who says life on the West Side is boring and non-productive.

A client posted a slandering comment about me, my businesses and character. Every time I saw the post or even thought about it, I felt devastated and uncertain, unhappy and clammy. Not certain why one ugly statement about me, my services and where I put myself out in the world could take me down to the small nub of skin at the end of my nail. Yet it does. The one raw point, like a fallen tooth and the tongue pokes through a gaping hole, as a reminder that something is amiss.

Checked the site to be sure my rebuttal is posted today and low and behold, several others left gracious and admiring comments about me, my work, contribution and savvy. Brought crestfallen tears to console my spirit. The world is a better place with my team, homies, peeps, sisters, and clan members. It can be a cold world yet the moment I step out and share versus withdraw and hunker, I am reminded that the village we live in is powerful, hungry for giving, being one and at cause, in action for change.

Turkish Airlines representative sent me to the Transportation Agent for Istanbul’s Airport since she could not help me find what I need. The male service worker was not very friendly nor open to stepping outside of his box to assist me with information regarding the Izmir metro or airport services. I found a resource, after much searching (thank goodness for Google,) and created a strategic map for Taelor to circumnavigate the rail system and gleaned specific stations for departure and arrival. I hope this provides the confidence she needs to get on the plane in a few days and land in Turkey with a lovely smile and a lotta luggage.

Winning Worms

February 10, 2014

A friend just murmured “Happy Valentine’s week!” and I decide to treat myself to breakfast out (not outdoors, in a restaurant) tomorrow. It has been a long time coming. I will order all of the sides whose pictures appeal to me, drink gallons of caffeinated coffee, and have red devil chocolate cake for dessert, no matter the time of day.

I welcome and honor stressful situations. Power and courage appears when I am stepping into anxiety or angst. How can I know just what I have to offer if I stick to the same old patterns, my identical way of being in the world? Can you grow without the sticky places in life. Is it probable that I understand my limits, boundaries and uncover skills and talents without pushing aside the barriers. I doubt it.

The Farmers Market planning meeting is always a pin prick scene for me. I constantly tear down the reinforcements, put up screening and temporary plastic sheeting, poking the ways of doing business, and calling people (including myself) on their smallness. I believe sustainability has to come from a strategic idea, with a budget and plan, not just some floating iridescent figure appearing and scaring the heck out of everyone somewhere in the distant future. Not certain if I will continue hawking maple syrup, perhaps I will raise red worms, the humus they produce or steep tea from their excrement. Since I will be out of the country for three solid best-selling weeks, I may have to consider the reliability of the sales crew at the community table. Difficult for me to hand over the reins to just anyone.

Well Well

February 9, 2014

Where in my life do I have one foot on the gas and the other on the brake. It appears my philosophy is to gas, gas, gas and then brake, gas, turn and brake, make a U turn and California stop at the light and veer right. Once I make a decision, I usually never go back. If I am headed down a path and run into a road block, I become desperate to find a way through versus turning around and going back the way I came. Biking down the coast from Astoria to San Luis Obispo quite a number of years ago is case in point. During the summer, a season of road construction, I despised having to turn around, head back up hills, due to a dead end in the pavement.

Heading to the Black Sand Beach in Brasil, my daughter, boyfriend, and his son were following a path that had been washed-out by a flood. I was convinced we could push through the tall grass and come out safely on the other side. I dropped four feet into a massive hole while the rest of the crew stood peering down at me from the ledge and laughed at my silliness. It took me a good while to tramp down the greenery, climb out of the hole and proceed to the shore. We had to turn around, which broke my heart and pride.

Taelor told that story often and with relish. So much so, she believed she was the one who fell a body length into the deep well.