Tag Archives: Introspective

Moving: A Lament

Things like packing your apartment to move your life up the East coast have a strange way of causing sentimentality. That is, the process of packing, of knowing that the apartment we’ve lived in for four years won’t be our home any longer. Of course, you know that when you move into an apartment, and it’s not like I’m feeling any sort of overwhelming separation anxiety or anything, but…

When Karen and I moved into our current apartment from the first one we rented together, I had odd moments of sentimentality. More so this time, though, because there have been some really incredible things that have happened in this one. Foremost on that list is that this is the apartment to which we brought our daughter home after the miraculous event of her birth. I think what concerns me the most about this is that she’s showing some anxiety as the familiar melts away and is replaced by ever-growing stacks of boxes in preparation for this weekend.

The last two weeks have been the process of saying goodbyes for both of us. Last week I was struck quite profoundly by the appreciation shown to me by my colleagues as they treated me to a goodbye lunch for work. The process of making arrangements to stay in touch with others (I’ve even caught myself using Facebook more frequently…and I never thought that would happen), and bidding farewell to places we frequent and to our faith community, have been a strange mix of liberating and sad for me.

Oddly, I’ve felt disconnected at times. That disconnection has made me think that, had I the opportunity to do some things over from the past four years, that I would. Karen and I made the decision to distance ourselves from the faith community that had been our home for some time because we found ourselves in a different season of life. During our previous move, we were overwhelmed with friends giving us assistance. Now, we’re working to get people to come help us. That’s quite a difference. We drifted away from the group of friends with which we were close due, in large part, to my wanderlust. I have a good case of it, and it has both served me well and brought me grief in the past.

I have images that I can recall too quickly of those that I’ve alienated because of the pressing, almost illogical need I feel at times to move on to a different place geographically. I don’t always regret moving forward, but I regret the way I’ve handled that movement with certain people. I’ve been left without people that I think would have become great friends or colleagues, and I’ve grown hopelessly distant from friends that were close at one time, but are no longer in contact with me.

I hope that I’m not so old that I can’t change that tendency. I don’t think I’ll ever change my wanderlust, and I’m honestly not certain that I want to. I can change the level of intentionality with which I approach keeping in contact with others, though, certainly now that carrying out that intention is easier than ever before.

There are things that are simultaneously exhilarating and frightening about the fact that we will live in a different state next week. I can’t wait to experience the different culture in a new way, because, although we’ve frequently visited the area to which we’re moving and I already know it well, I’ve never lived there, and that is a much more intimate knowledge of a place. Changes in place are a welcome, wonderful thing for me. I hope that it is for my family, also.

And I hope that I manage to stay in touch with the friends we leave in this place, as well.

Boston, Here We Come

In the interest of keeping in check with the goals that I set in my obligatory New Year’s goals post, I am  about to make a carefully calculated, really big, and more-than-a-little scary dive into changing careers for my day job. I’ve made my living in various aspects of behavioral health for the last eleven years, with some writing and other projects thrown in to keep life interesting. While I’ve worked very hard to incorporate creative elements (mostly theatre) into my work, I need something that will allow me to be more creative during the day, in order to keep the creative juices flowing at night for my writing. Also, health care is becoming a difficult arena to navigate, and I’m essentially being forced out slowly due to credentialing requirements with which I no longer have the motivation to keep in step.

So, the career change is about to happen, by way of a few months of very specific skill training. I’m about to turn my geek-self from being a hobby to being a living in the realm of web development. In order to acquire that training, we’re re-locating to the Boston area next month.

This is exciting and scary, because the financial investment is not a small one, but Karen and I both love Boston. This will be a good move, I’m convinced, and now the proverbial cat is out of the bag and I can stop dropping cryptic hints in my posts.

I don’t plan for this to change the topics that I write about here, except that I will now have a whole new spectrum of inspiration from which to draw.

So, the next few months are going to be really interesting! The next phase in the adventure begins in August!

A Theatre of Memory

A few years ago, Karen and I were on vacation, and she took me on a tour of her alma mater. I remember that being the most special of times, because seeing where she had studied and grown as a woman during those formative years helped me to know her better. I loved hearing her adventures and tales of that time of her life.

This past weekend, we were visiting family out of town, and I decided spontaneously, as our anniversary fell on the weekend and because we were in easy driving distance to my own alma mater, to return the favor. Off we went for the quick tour.

Oh, how that campus had changed! I have read about various changes in the alumni magazine, of course, but to see the changes for myself…which were so drastic that I had difficulty navigating around the campus in the car…was simultaneously wonderful and disquieting. New buildings existed, and locations that I thought that I remembered (like the student center) had been re-located to the new buildings. Streets had been turned to sidewalks, and hillsides to streets. Then, however, I found our way back to the fine arts building…the building in which I essentially lived for most of my four-year education. The fine arts building was notoriously confusing, and we used to joke that one would occasionally find the skeleton of a freshman that never made it out. All that said, though, I found my way around it with ease. And, while were on an unofficial visit and thus couldn’t get access to the main theatre stage on which so many of my designs came to fruition, or to the studio theatre where I directed my first scene, the memories of that building were overwhelming. I learned theatre there, as I learned other disciplines.

Moreover, I learned life there.

Beyond the blissful nostalgia, though, is a forward-looking effect of considering where our daughter might go to school one day, what disciplines she will study, and what career(s) she will choose. This is so important to think about, because my four years at that school shaped my perspectives and my life in so many ways, just as Karen’s four years at hers shaped her…and yours shaped you.

One of the major changes that have occurred at my alma mater is that the technology building adjacent to the fine arts building has received a complete make-over. I love that the two have always been connected, there…literally connected, as in a hallway from one building opens into the other. Many of my fellow theatre students (mostly scenic design students) would migrate over periodically to take architectural design courses. I love how the arts and technology meld together…you know, interdisciplinary studies again. This is really important to me now, because it is shaping an upcoming move and career change, as well as future research interests.

I want our daughter to have a lucid connection between things in this way, to see life holistically, not in compartmentalized fragments…something I have learned to do myself all too recently, and that I wish that I had done all along.

Being a father has taken my looks backward at life, and pointed them forward in an odd and interconnected way. It’s still sort of strange, honestly, but I’m loving every moment of it.

Curmudgeon

Every now and again, someone brings up my actual age and I become a bit surprised. I think that this is mostly because I don’t feel nearly as old as I am. It’s not even that I’m old, per se, just…well, a bit more chronologically advanced than you would imagine at first blush.

Normally, the fact that I don’t perceive myself as being as old as I am is a good thing. There are times when I should be more conservative with things than I am because of my age, but in general my self-perception treats me well. Where I actually feel my age, more often than not, is in the fact that I’m a bit of a curmudgeon at times.

Well, let’s just be honest: I can be cranky.

Of course, I’ve given up negativity for Lent for two consecutive years now, and that has helped a great deal. Karen even acknowledges that I am much more intentional about being positive about things. She points out, though, that if certain hopeful events that are drawing near on the horizon were removed, I would be back to being cranky again.

Of course, if you remove our hope, anyone can become irritable. You know…in my defense…

The reason that this is ricocheting about in my brain is because I often catch myself considering topics to write about here, and one of two things happen: either the topics are something that frustrate me or that I want to disprove, or else it’s a more neutral topic that I have difficulty writing about without sounding negative.

In short, I don’t want to sound or be negative in my writing all the time, because I’m really not such a negative guy. Well, at least not in my own self-perception.

About two years ago, I tweeted about how excited I was about something. A close friend replied with a remark indicating how happy she was to see a positive tweet…the unwritten message being that this apparently didn’t happen very often. I took that to heart. I cut back on my news reading, because it tended to make me frustrated. I tried in general to distance myself from things about which I have difficulty being positive.

That’s a trend that is continuing, and a move that will be happening very soon will assist me in that process. In the meantime, I’m going to keep trying to not be so negative. Because, being curmudgeonly is fun and all…but people tend to not want to hang around you for long.

Uneventful Events

There’s a lot to be said for relaxing…even when the relaxation is sort of forced on you.

Perhaps I’m beginning to feel as old as I actually am, but lately I’ve noticed myself being quite tired in the evenings. I refuse to accept the fact that I could be transforming into a morning person, so something else must be at work. I’m beginning to suspect that I simply can’t keep the schedule that I used to. Or, perhaps it’s been the heat wave that’s been oppressing the South East with 100 degree temperatures for over a week. I think I’ll blame it on the latter, but whatever the case…I’ve gotten home in the afternoons frequently of late, and all I’ve wanted to do is take a nap.

Karen and I survived the destructive storm that rattled our area last weekend largely without incident (although when our fourth floor apartment began moving as our building swayed, I did get nervous for a moment). The most significant thing that we suffered…and this is absolutely insignificant compared to most of the rest of our city, mind you…was that one of the household Macs didn’t make it through the flickering power unscathed. As it has been in for repairs this week, I found myself without everything that I needed to keep up what had been an excellent pace on the novel…while I have working backups of the actual manuscript, I don’t have easy access to the outline until we have that computer again. So, I’ve sort of had a forced break from working on that project.

Of course, there are at least three other ideas for projects that I could have started, and didn’t, because I found myself enjoying taking a breather. Suddenly freed from self-imposed deadlines that had to be altered due to unforeseen circumstances, I’ve spent more time reading and watching some television that I’ve been meaning to see. More time was spent staying at home with our daughter and having friends and family who were without power for days on end come over to soak up our air conditioning and do laundry.

Being forced out of my to-do-list and deadline obsession was actually quite refreshing for a week. We even re-scheduled a trip for this weekend to stay in and take care of other things that need to happen before the move. I’m bummed to be behind on the novel, but I’ve enjoyed taking a break this week.

I hope your weekend is cool, storm-free, and relaxing.