Given that I've been an avid journal keeper for over four years now, I never feel the need to share anything personal on The Choir. However, I've recently been inspired by the way that Thought Catalog (http://thoughtcatalog.com/) shares deeply personal and relatable messages in such an impersonal, unassuming way. And after the day I had yesterday, I feel the need to share my personal key learnings in the most general way possible too. Interestingly enough they fall into one category: we're all clueless.
1. You think you know what you're doing until you get smacked in the face with the fact that you don't. No matter how much experience you have with a certain type of person, project, vessel of communication, there's really no mastering of anything. Circumstances always get in the way. Other people, projects, forms of communication get in the way. And then, regardless of how much control you are capable of taking over a situation, your control can easily be lost.
The takeaway? I have been trying to master the art of keeping calm and letting things work out for a while now. But having recently tiptoed a little too far over that line, I have seen why my psyche has always kept me naturally anxious. While it's great to be able to keep collected in moments of stress, it's essential to never overestimate the power that you really have over a situation. Always expect that the worst can happen. Always anticipate that, no matter what you do to prevent it, the worst will happen.
2. True friendship is more obvious than you want to believe. So often we find ourselves making excuses for people who half-ass their relationships with us. It's because we enjoy their company, we have history, or simply because they're there. But then they don't call. They don't carry their weight. And you're left wondering, how are we friends and yet they can't have the courtesy to make plans with me until 5 minutes before? How are we friends and yet I feel like I can't text them, call them or ask them to hang out whenever I want? Or the best - this person is annoying me. They are supporting me in decisions that are destructive of either myself or people I care about. They are molding my thought processes to suit their needs from me right now, not my needs for me for the rest of my life.
The takeaway? If you're asking yourself these questions or realizing these things about these people that you have so conveniently labeled as friends, then maybe the word 'friend' should be reconsidered. I wish that there was a middle-ground word like "friends with benefits" or "main squeeze" that applied to the friend world because there has to be something between acquaintance and friend. There has to be something that defines that grey area where frustration, secrecy, exclusivity, selfishness and annoyance seep in. But regardless, I know who my friends really are and who they aren't. I know who I can communicate with freely without being self-conscious and who I can't. And you do too. Think about it.
3. And finally, the kicker. The one thing that has been nagging me since around this date 5 months ago and has materialized in more ways than I'd like it to. People are disappointing. People will disappoint you. And no matter how long you know and love them, no matter what they have said to or done for you in the past, no matter how many heart strings and memories pull you back into believing that they are truly good, but they're just lost... there is nothing that can change this. And I don't just mean friends, lovers or families. Bosses and colleagues can do this too. People let other people down all the time without even an inkling of accountability and the person who is the newest or lowest on the totem pole inevitably ends up being the one who feels the guilt.
The takeaway? If you know what I mean by this, being let down in a variety of settings, then you know the first step to moving past it is managing yourself. Remain self-aware. Keep in touch with your role in certain situations. Don't lose sight of what things you are responsible for, but also don't let yourself fall into that bottomless pit of unwarranted guilt dug only by the greatest disappointments in people we care about, trust and believe in. Love, loss, wins, failures - these are all two way streets. But traffic doesn't always happen in both directions at once.
4. I know I said number 3 was the last one, but I can't help myself. While I was studying in London, I took a yoga class at my gym and the instructor said something I'll never forget. She told us that she knew we were in pain at some points during the class and that it was okay to feel and recognize pain. But at the end of the day, it was up to us to choose whether or not we were going to react to it. We could feel the pain and fixate on it and act on it by inevitably falling to the ground and giving up. Or we could feel the pain, acknowledge it and persevere. In all situations, it is essential that we feel the way we feel and acknowledge the way we feel. But that anxiety, emotion, anger, etc. that acts like a parasite on our conscience is the product of a reaction to, not an acknowledgment of, things that we have experienced. Happiness and peace with a situation does not come from dwelling, exploding and bursting into flames. Happiness and peace comes from a recognition of tension followed by, in time, movement onward.
The takeaway for all of this, as I forewarned, is that we are clueless. But we don't always have to be. There are so many signs in our daily lives screaming at us to make decisions, change decisions, disconnect, reconnect, take accountability for ourselves, and LEARN something from these years and years of being tortured by life's twists and turns. And I know it sounds so much easier said than done, but if I have the time to realize these things from past experiences while still getting punched in the face by new ones, then I know you can too.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
We are the lucky ones.
Our grandparents remember where they were when they heard about Pearl Harbor.
Our parents remember where they were when they heard about JFK's assassination.
We remember where we were when we heard about 9/11.
All of these were pinnacle, jarring moments in contemporary American history. They were memorable because they meant something more than loss of life or war. They were occurrences that shattered our sense of security, our symbols of freedom or strength or power. That, in a way, is why I think I will always remember where I was when I heard about the passing of Steve Jobs. Not the complete details of the time or place or people I was near like I remember from 9/11. But where I was both in my life and in my extremely distant relationship with him.
In part, I'll remember where I was with Steve because my respect and admiration for him had recently reached its peak. Just a few weeks before, I was reading Wall Street Journal and Daily Telegraph feature stories made up of Steve's many unintentional mantras and isms. In fact, I finished my third journal from college life, a symbolic step of transition into my big girl shoes, by transcribing several of those quotations in the back. My emotional investment in him had been growing exponentially since I got my first Mac product probably a decade ago only to reach this expected and yet still horrible loss.
I've always been fascinated with Steve Jobs because he was a renegade and he made products that we don't just want, need or use. They are products that we cohabitate with, that are fully integrated into our lives in a way unlike any other:
The iPod is where many of us go to escape or distract ourselves; It's where we go to listen to music and books, to free ourselves from reality even if that reality is just the banging of our feet on the pavement during a mid-afternoon jog.
The MacBook and Powerbooks and the rest of their families, they've fed our curiosity, efficiency and creativity. They've made our lives easier and enabled us to be more complex.
The iPad - where do we even begin? Do you remember how the bloggers were snickering at how mesmerized everyone was by it? Do you remember how they made fun of the name and questioned its relevance? Today, our doctors use them, our President uses one, and as I write, education institutions from pre-kindergarten to graduate schools are using them. They have changed our world.
And sure these are just products. Just things. But each of them embodies the same values that made Steve so successful and great. The same values he espoused and lived for. The same values that he wants us to live for too.
This brings me to my other point. I will never forget where I was when Steve Jobs finally succumbed to pancreatic cancer. I will never forget how perfect it was. I had been talking so much about how much I had grown up in the past few months. You know - the new city, the new job, the new friends and new responsibilities. I had been so wrapped up in how scary and challenging it has all been and how I have consequently become more adult and more myself because of it. But then Steve died. This man, this spirit who has unknowingly carried the torch for my evolution into the best version of myself, was gone. And I couldn't bare to hear the news even though I had never met him. I was overwhelmed with sadness and in a way I felt lost.
It was a ridiculous reaction for someone so adult to have. But almost 24 hours later, I'm realizing that it's because I know in my heart that I'm not all the way there yet. I've read his words, I've internalized his lessons and I've let him inspire me. But I'm not all-the-way Steve. I have been so impacted by his passing because I thought I'd be able to pull myself together before he left us. I thought that he would leave and I would be okay with the world because I knew that at least I had come to embody his view of the ideal being and the ideal life. But I was wrong, so I've taken it upon myself to look at it all from a different perspective.
Steve's passing came at the perfect time because it was right about when I was getting complacent. When I was starting to look away from myself and back at my external circumstances, forgetting that it's my responsibility to be who I am and become the person I know I should be. I wish that I could honor Steve's death by revamping my collection of Apple products so I can further evangelize his genius to the masses by flaunting his gadgets. But unfortunately, I only have enough money to my name to split the cost of a pre-ordered hard copy of the Steve Jobs biography with my dad. The good thing however is that I don't think that's necessarily what Steve wanted me to be doing anyway.
Steve wanted me... he wanted all of us to be the branches of the tree he so humbly planted in our minds and in our hearts. He wanted us to share the love, the curiosity and the intellect for betterment and advancement, not just for the sake of knowing and doing things. He wanted us to live the same values that his brand embodies, but instead of in the technological landscape, he wanted us to do it in the rest of the world. He wanted us to be more than good, more than great. He wanted us to be extraordinary. And not because he was overly optimistic, idealistic or stuck in clouds of riches and fame. It was because he knew that he was just another guy with creativity and ideas, who was unique because he was bold enough to implement them. And he was so humble that he told us that if he could do it, we could do it to.
You got to where you were because you took the time to know yourself. And every day, you challenged the person you were in the moment to become the better version you knew you could be. We know you felt lucky for how much you were able to accomplish. We know you felt lucky for how people welcomed you, your ideas and your products into their lives. But, Steve, we are the lucky ones. We are the ones who you welcomed into your world and we will forever be compelled to be better because of it.
Thanks for everything.
Our parents remember where they were when they heard about JFK's assassination.
We remember where we were when we heard about 9/11.
All of these were pinnacle, jarring moments in contemporary American history. They were memorable because they meant something more than loss of life or war. They were occurrences that shattered our sense of security, our symbols of freedom or strength or power. That, in a way, is why I think I will always remember where I was when I heard about the passing of Steve Jobs. Not the complete details of the time or place or people I was near like I remember from 9/11. But where I was both in my life and in my extremely distant relationship with him.
In part, I'll remember where I was with Steve because my respect and admiration for him had recently reached its peak. Just a few weeks before, I was reading Wall Street Journal and Daily Telegraph feature stories made up of Steve's many unintentional mantras and isms. In fact, I finished my third journal from college life, a symbolic step of transition into my big girl shoes, by transcribing several of those quotations in the back. My emotional investment in him had been growing exponentially since I got my first Mac product probably a decade ago only to reach this expected and yet still horrible loss.
I've always been fascinated with Steve Jobs because he was a renegade and he made products that we don't just want, need or use. They are products that we cohabitate with, that are fully integrated into our lives in a way unlike any other:
The iPod is where many of us go to escape or distract ourselves; It's where we go to listen to music and books, to free ourselves from reality even if that reality is just the banging of our feet on the pavement during a mid-afternoon jog.
The MacBook and Powerbooks and the rest of their families, they've fed our curiosity, efficiency and creativity. They've made our lives easier and enabled us to be more complex.
The iPad - where do we even begin? Do you remember how the bloggers were snickering at how mesmerized everyone was by it? Do you remember how they made fun of the name and questioned its relevance? Today, our doctors use them, our President uses one, and as I write, education institutions from pre-kindergarten to graduate schools are using them. They have changed our world.
And sure these are just products. Just things. But each of them embodies the same values that made Steve so successful and great. The same values he espoused and lived for. The same values that he wants us to live for too.
This brings me to my other point. I will never forget where I was when Steve Jobs finally succumbed to pancreatic cancer. I will never forget how perfect it was. I had been talking so much about how much I had grown up in the past few months. You know - the new city, the new job, the new friends and new responsibilities. I had been so wrapped up in how scary and challenging it has all been and how I have consequently become more adult and more myself because of it. But then Steve died. This man, this spirit who has unknowingly carried the torch for my evolution into the best version of myself, was gone. And I couldn't bare to hear the news even though I had never met him. I was overwhelmed with sadness and in a way I felt lost.
It was a ridiculous reaction for someone so adult to have. But almost 24 hours later, I'm realizing that it's because I know in my heart that I'm not all the way there yet. I've read his words, I've internalized his lessons and I've let him inspire me. But I'm not all-the-way Steve. I have been so impacted by his passing because I thought I'd be able to pull myself together before he left us. I thought that he would leave and I would be okay with the world because I knew that at least I had come to embody his view of the ideal being and the ideal life. But I was wrong, so I've taken it upon myself to look at it all from a different perspective.
Steve's passing came at the perfect time because it was right about when I was getting complacent. When I was starting to look away from myself and back at my external circumstances, forgetting that it's my responsibility to be who I am and become the person I know I should be. I wish that I could honor Steve's death by revamping my collection of Apple products so I can further evangelize his genius to the masses by flaunting his gadgets. But unfortunately, I only have enough money to my name to split the cost of a pre-ordered hard copy of the Steve Jobs biography with my dad. The good thing however is that I don't think that's necessarily what Steve wanted me to be doing anyway.
Steve wanted me... he wanted all of us to be the branches of the tree he so humbly planted in our minds and in our hearts. He wanted us to share the love, the curiosity and the intellect for betterment and advancement, not just for the sake of knowing and doing things. He wanted us to live the same values that his brand embodies, but instead of in the technological landscape, he wanted us to do it in the rest of the world. He wanted us to be more than good, more than great. He wanted us to be extraordinary. And not because he was overly optimistic, idealistic or stuck in clouds of riches and fame. It was because he knew that he was just another guy with creativity and ideas, who was unique because he was bold enough to implement them. And he was so humble that he told us that if he could do it, we could do it to.
You got to where you were because you took the time to know yourself. And every day, you challenged the person you were in the moment to become the better version you knew you could be. We know you felt lucky for how much you were able to accomplish. We know you felt lucky for how people welcomed you, your ideas and your products into their lives. But, Steve, we are the lucky ones. We are the ones who you welcomed into your world and we will forever be compelled to be better because of it.
Thanks for everything.
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