Rocking Chair Syndrome

“Worrying is like a rocking chair: you waste a lot of energy, but it doesn’t get you anywhere.”

I have this propensity to find myself spinning out of control when it comes to sitting around doing nothing — read: I can’t stand it.  There is this deep hatred for feeling like I’m not advancing my life in any way, shape, or form.

This feeling is not okay.

Not. Okay.

A friend once asked me, “What’s so wrong with being mediocre?”


I cannot exist if this existence begets mediocrity.

So, I learn.  I strive.  I constantly try to enhance my being in some way.  Am I succeeding?  Have I progressed beyond that mediocre state?  Did I start as mediocre, or, am I amazing and have the potential to be mediocre if I fail to keep up with my own amazingness?

These are the questions that engulf me as I fall asleep tonight…

We’ll see what’s on the other side of the darkness when (if) I wake up…

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Dark & Hungry…

Hidden deep inside all of us (or at least just me) is a driving force that makes you dark and hungry.

What are you dark and hungry for?

Success?  Happiness?  Love?

A friend of mine once told me (while enraged) that there is nothing so focusing, so utterly enabling as focused rage.  Sure, you’re not the nicest person, you snap at people, and otherwise normal politeness goes out the window to serve the focus — the end goal, however, with this “new power,” the world is limitless and things just get done.

So, I ponder about the “dark and hungry” beast that’s inside of me and what enables it to rear its ugly head.

It is this search that has led me down a somewhat opposite approach in life, straying far away from the “dark and hungry” and leaning more towards the “bright and satiated.”  But something is lacking…

A split in personalities one cannot continue.  A reckoning will commence (has commenced? is commencing).

The dark and hungry affords us the power to not be a doormat.  To stand up for what we believe in and just go get it.  We need the dark and hungry, but many times we are afraid of it; we fear its power.

Our greatest fear

I’m suddenly brought to an inspiring poem, by an inspiring poet…

Listen to the mustn’ts, child.

Listen to the don’ts.

Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossibles, the won’ts.

Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me…

Anything can happen, child.

Anything can be.

— Shel Silverstein


Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Buses and other worldly adventures

I ride the bus to work.

This statement has never sounded so much like a statement of adventure until I did so in San Francisco. I’ve lived in Brooklyn, where the subways are crazy, however, the buses are actually less crazy… Also, I’ve lived in Boston, where the craziness lives outside the buses, or around the buses. But here in San Francisco, the craziness lives on the bus.

First point of crazy — the bus stop:
Being a “green city,” San Francisco has opted for solar-powered bus stops with a cool [sic] retro wave design. This should be awesome! However, when it rains (and it does rain) this mode of shelter provides precisely none. Also, these “enclosures” are always filled with some remnant of vomit or feces. :-/

Second point of crazy — “move to the back!”:
There seems to be this irrational fear that if you move to the back of the bus you will not be able to get off the bus. Really?! There are doors from front to back, however, without fail there is always a call from the bus driver to “move to the back!” Many times people will shout back “there’s no room!” however, a small (to large) person (usually a man) will squeeze their way back and suddenly disappear into the place where there was no room, as if by magic.

Third point of crazy — anonymity:
There are so many people on the bus I ride to work — even in the wee hours of the morning (read 6am)!  However, even with the international symbol for “don’t talk to me,” (i.e. headphones) there really is a lack of privacy on the bus.  Makes sense, I imagine — a public bus!  But sometimes, when the bus is really crowded, you are sandwiched in like sardines against each other and any hope of any shred of a private moment has gone out the window.  And of course, in the back of your head you’re thinking, “Man, I bet there’s another bus like two minutes behind this one that’s empty.”  But the nagging feeling of just wanting to get where you’re going has you entrenched on this bus as a sardine.

Fourth and final point of crazy — the people:
There are so many different types of people who ride the bus.  Most of them are pleasant enough; most of them stand up from their seats when elderly people are nearing to relinquish their ever-desired seat to a person in need.  However, there are those few…  Those smelly, loud, obnoxious people who no one wants to sit by, or talk to, or even be with on the same bus (again, the nagging feeling has them entrenched).

With all these points of crazy, it’s a wonder that I don’t smile more often.  Because in all honesty — it’s hilarious!  It’s an ever-engaging, always impressive trip down coo-coo lane…

Key examples:

Today, the Fast Pass machine was broken, however, every single person had to try their card to see if it worked.   No, the person in front of you is not an idiot and does know how to put a card next to a machine in order to get it read.  The machine doesn’t work.

Two days ago, a man of whom I spoke earlier, (an undesirable) was moving along the bus annoying the passengers and making them get up and move with his loud yelling and awful smell.  He came to one lady who had headphones in and looked like she was just on her way to work in a nice little cubicle and attempted to get her to move.  But this lady just turned to him and … Out crazied [sic] the crazy!  It was epic!  I only wish I had the foresight to video record it.  Next time…

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,