Fender Bender Vs. Trail Mix

Such-A-One came to my soccer game this week and afterward when we were walking out to his truck, we saw someone back their Jeep right into his truck.  We were only about 10-15 feet away and I kept thinking as I saw it getting closer and closer to his truck, “Oh, they’ll stop.”  Only one second before  the impact did I gasp.

Then… CRUNCH.

Do you want to know what Such-A-One did?

He went, un-offended, to the passenger side of his truck and got his bag of trail mix.  That was his first instinct… trail mix.

He did then take a look at the damage (which was minimal to none), calm the poor kid down who had hit the truck, and send the kid on his way… all while he munched his trail mix.

I told him afterward that I liked how he had handled it, i.e. without getting mad.  He seemed to think there was no other way of handling it.  But why would there be when you have TRAIL MIX?

Yes, Be My Friend

By my own admission, I’m quite the introvert.  I haven’t always made a lot of effort to make new friends.  Most of my friends from college were from the soccer team, and not necessarily people I ever spent time with outside soccer.  But it just happened, that by the time I was done with my four years there, I’d spent enough time with them that I considered them friends.  They became friends by default.  (That’s not to say they aren’t important to me, even now, years later.)

But I have made way more of a conscious effort to invest in friendships the last year or two since I moved here.  My best friend told me a couple months ago that she heard somewhere that 20% of all the people we meet, we immediately really like.  Then there’s another 20% that we immediately really don’t like.  Then 60% of all the people we meet, we are indifferent about.

There are a few people who I’ve met this year, who I know are in my top 20%.  People that as soon as I spoke to them, I knew I liked them.  Like, my friend’s old roommate (and that friend).  And my co-worker and his wife (my yoga instructor), who’s house I was at on New Year’s Eve.  My office coordinator.  I didn’t talk to her for like a year after I technically met her, but as soon as we started talking, we connected – and I use that word with holy reverence.  My friend from NoVA. And then two more people this past week.

All people who I met and just felt.. Yes, be my friend!  I welcome your presence – in any capacity – in my life.

So, even though I’m a newbie to the whole making new friends thing, I found that it actually strikes me quite well… I like it.  It’s like every friend is a whole new world unto themselves, a world not born to me until I met them.

 ~~~~~~

Each contact with a human being

is so rare, so precious,one should preserve it.

~Anais Nin

~~~~~

A Need to Know

My mother says this to me sometimes… I have a need to know.

I thought of it today while I was in my favorite bookstore.  It started out that I went there with three books, Imogene (a.k.a. Sexy MacBook), and my iPod.  That was all.

Well, there was also a light sweater, because I sometimes get cold when I’m there, my purse (which is pretty cool; I like to carry it around), my cell phone, my keys (the only thing in either hand; they were in my right), and a few other miscellaneous things, which I’d tossed into my computer bag.

None of that is terribly important, withholding the bit about my walking in with three books.  Three books that I wanted to read, no less.

If you’d like, you can ask me if any of those three books got even cracked…

…

You can ask, but the answer is no.

Because I walked in… my shoulders relaxed a bit… I scanned the new title rack… walked past the Nook guy into the fields of gold aisles of books.

And I was in my zone.

It’s really not a “zone” at all though, because I manage to see all the titles that I want to read, no matter where they are in the store…  I can just feel them beckoning to me.  It’s less like a “zone” and more like a flood gates opening.

I walk into the store, scan the new titles, go past the Nook guy, and

the flood gates open.

I have a need to know.

I want to read anything and everything all at once.  It’s truly a wonder that I only walked out of there with only two additional books.

The greater majority of my life I probably operate with a certain element or feeling of confusion. That slight sense of not understanding or not having quite enough information.

When I walk into my bookstore I feel all those same things, but also a drive to uncover all the secrets, the jewels of information, the pieces of information that will help me put together a semblance of understanding and find a resting place for some of my confusion.

It’s like when I walk in, my confusion becomes less overwhelming to me, because there’s Me.  My Confusion.  And Answers.  Three separate entities.  And all three are more manageable, because for once, their identities are not getting confused with one another.

I am not my Confusion.  My Confusion is not my Answer.  My Answer is not Me.

I’m not trying to make this sound like a “spiritual” experience, a kind of be-all-end-all-here-are-all-the-answers-type thing.  Because as many gems of understanding as I find, I also get a thousand more questions.  It’s not a one-stop-shop.

More like an archeological dig.

I can only uncover one stone at a time, one stair, one wall, but I feel – in my “need to know” – that each little piece brings me that much closer to maybe someday stepping back and seeing what I’ve been uncovering.  Like a castle, maybe.

That’s how I operate in my bookstore… like I’m on a dig. Bringing books in with me is of little to no use.  They are at least rocks I know how to uncover, i.e. read the book.  When I walk in there I see all the rocks I haven’t even started uncovering yet.  Or have started, but want to keep uncovering.

I walk in and I want to dig forever.

However, one cannot dig forever.  So I’ve finally put down my leaf trowel and brush, and come to tell you how today’s dig went.  Tomorrow I will dig a little with my best friend.  We will talk while we work and before the day is over we will put down our digging tools to note with pleasure that we see more of the castle than the day before.  We will sit down and lean back against our castle wall to relax and just enjoy each others company.

Forgive

*Picture found @ Miss Anna Kay (see blogroll).

What’s Going On Here!?

I just re-took the Myers-Briggs!!  Now I’m an ISFJ!!!!  What the heck!!!  What’s going on here???  I AM SO CONFUSED.  LOL.  I mean, I didn’t even rig my answers to come out a certain personality type!

Here’s what *they* think I am though (I’m not convinced it’s “right”)………

~~~~~~~

Qualitative analysis of your type formula
You are:

• moderately expressed introvert
• slightly expressed sensing personality
• moderately expressed feeling personality
• moderately expressed judging personality

~~~~~~~~

Guardian:  Portrait of the Protector (ISFJ)

We are lucky that Protectors make up as much as ten percent the population, because their primary interest is in the safety and security of those they care about – their family, their circle of friends, their students, their patients, their boss, their fellow-workers, or their employees. Protectors have an extraordinary sense of loyalty and responsibility in their makeup, and seem fulfilled in the degree they can shield others from the dirt and dangers of the world. Speculating and experimenting do not intrigue Protectors, who prefer to make do with time-honored and time-tested products and procedures rather than change to new. At work Protectors are seldom happy in situations where the rules are constantly changing, or where long-established ways of doing things are not respected. For their part, Protectors value tradition, both in the culture and in their family. Protectors believe deeply in the stability of social ranking conferred by birth, titles, offices, and credentials. And they cherish family history and enjoy caring for family property, from houses to heirlooms.

–>Wanting to be of service to others, Protectors find great satisfaction in assisting the downtrodden, and can deal with disability and neediness in others better than any other type. They are not as outgoing and talkative as the Provider Guardians [ESFJs], and their shyness is often misjudged as stiffness, even coldness, when in truth Protectors are warm-hearted and sympathetic, giving happily of themselves to those in need.

Their reserve ought really to be seen as an expression of their sincerity and seriousness of purpose. The most diligent of all the types, Protectors are willing to work long, hard hours quietly doing all the thankless jobs that others manage to avoid. Protectors are quite happy working alone; in fact, in positions of authority they may try to do everything themselves rather than direct others to get the job done. Thoroughness and frugality are also virtues for them. When Protectors undertake a task, they will complete it if humanly possible. They also know better than any other type the value of a dollar, and they abhor the squandering or misuse of money. To save, to put something aside against an unpredictable future, to prepare for emergencies-these are actions near and dear to the Protector’s heart. For all these reasons, Protectors are frequently overworked, just as they are frequently misunderstood and undervalued. Their contributions, and also their economies, are often taken for granted, and they rarely get the gratitude they deserve.

My Better Half

I AM GOING TO SEE BEST FRIEND R THIS WEEKEND!!!!!!!!!!!!  I CANNOT WAIT!!!!!!!!

I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD BE SO BLESSED AS TO HAVE A FRIEND…

~  AT WHOSE HOUSE YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME  (EVEN LAST MINUTE)

~  WHO WANTS TO SEE YOU AS MUCH AS YOU WANT TO SEE THEM

~  WHO KNOWS YOUR WHOLE STORY AND STILL LOVES YOU

~  AND IN WHOSE PRESENCE (AND ANTICIPATION OF SUCH) YOU FEEL…

UTTER JOY.

I Think About This All the Time

Taylor-Johnson Temperment Analysis.  Another fascinating psychological tool.

The T-JTA measures 9 personality traits and their opposites:

• Nervous ↔ Composed
• Depressive ↔ Light-Hearted
• Active-Social ↔ Quiet
• Expressive-Responsive ↔ Inhibited
• Sympathetic ↔ Indifferent
• Subjective ↔ Objective
• Dominant ↔ Submissive
• Hostile ↔ Tolerant
• Self-Disciplined  ↔ Impulsive

You’re Really Nice-Looking

I was reading Best Friend R’s blog t’other day and ran across these questions…

What social rules do I play by and wish others would to?  Which ones of these do I want to discontinue?

I have been pondering them and have had one recurring thought about social rules…  I wish it was okay to tell people when you think they are good-looking.  Like, anyone, even people you just met.  Or haven’t even met yet.

For example, there’s a guy who works at the local rec center where I take my clients.  The first time I met him I thought, “Wow, he’s really nice-looking.”  It’s wasn’t that I had one ioda of interest in him, I just thought he was nice-looking.  I even debating saying that to him, because I knew I could say it totally professionally so that he wouldn’t be creeped out.  But I didn’t say it, because it’s not completely socially acceptable.

Since that time though, I have continued to debate (in my head) this issue and have decided that I’m going to tell more people I don’t personally know that they’re nice-looking (if in fact, they are).

Let it be written…

How I Feel About Getting Lost

As a matter of fact… I love it.  Almost any time.

The only time I’m not as fond of it is when I’m with someone else who doesn’t like to be lost.

Today I got lost in Washington, D.C.   It was great.  I dropped off my two dearests at IAD (Dulles International Airport) and then attempted to get myself home.  However… in that process I somehow got myself in downtown Washington, D.C.

I was formerly just traveling happily on my way, suspecting that I might be going in the wrong direction (I was).  The sun was shining.  My radio happened to be off.  I was thinking.  Concertedly.

Then I was at looking at Washington D.C.  First that one lake.  Then the Lincoln Memorial.  Then the Washington Monument.

I was traveling on the right road, just going the wrong way, so I thought maybe I could just exit and turn around.  Well, I had two opportunities that I could have done that.  But I missed them.  So I just let myself get into the jumble of downtown D.C. and followed completely random cars in front of me, just so I wouldn’t accidentally go up a one-way.

It was semi-fun, semi-exciting, semi-nerve-wracking.

I love D.C., it’s really beautiful.  I love the architecture, the cars, the people, the city, the history, the politicians.  It’s just so cool.  I almost took an exit that went to Pennsylvania Avenue.  (I’ve never driven myself to the President’s house.)  Instead, I traveled around all the “little” streets.  Looked at all the old buildings.  Followed whatever car was in front of me.

My windows were down.  The sun was still shining, like a big smile-y face.  It was all “wrong,” but nothing was going wrong for me.  I was using my freedom.  Going with the wind.  It was an adventure and I had no idea when it would end, if I would get home in time for my appointment with my client, where I would end up, or (specifically) where I was.

I just blew along with it.  Rode my freedom.  My singleness.  My life.  Sailed along in my private adventure.

And it carried me around the capital of my home country.

Some people complain about getting lost.  They feel it’s bothersome… they are out of control and don’t know when they’ll get it back.

But that’s exactly what I like about it.  That I have no idea when I will be back on familiar territory.  I love that it’s so unknown and it’s totally up to me to figure it out, or go with it, or whatever I want.

It’s not so different for how I like to think about life… that I don’t know what’s coming up next.  What’s behind me is sometimes confusing.  Sometimes good.  And it can matter as little or as much as I want it to in regard to what happens next.

I don’t always know how I got to where I am.  But that doesn’t always matter.  It doesn’t mean I can’t go forward.  It doesn’t mean I didn’t learn things on the way.   And it definitely doesn’t mean I’m not more alive now for having taken a road less traveled by.

Eventually, as I kept following whatever car was in front of me I somehow circled all the way back around… ending up – by complete chance – on the road home.

I confess to being slightly sad when I realized that I knew where I was.  But then I thought… well, as far as maps go I’m not lost anymore, but that doesn’t mean I know the way I’m going in life.  Or where I’ll end up.  Or how I’ll get there.

You’ve heard the saying, “Not all who wander are lost”?   Well, I have my own version…

Not all who wander are lost.  But some are.

I want to be lost.  I prefer it.  And since it’s up to me… I’d just as soon blow through my life lost and cash in every opportunity for adventure that I possibly can.  And who knows? …

Maybe that will make all the difference.

Michael Scott’s Secret to Happiness

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/reel-therapy/200909/the-office-the-secret-michael-scott-s-happiness