Keeping Up

You could argue that life is about getting ahead. Or about accomplishing a lot. About doing good every day. Or about leaving your mark on the world.
 
The truth is, some days, life is just about keeping up. While in some areas, you can just go with the flow, sometimes, keeping up is, well, pretty important. For example--
 
1. Knowing what day it is. Even if you have a job that is virtually the same each day, there are any number of things that are NOT the same, so keeping up with the day of the week is pretty important. Is this the day when one kid has gym and needs sneakers and another has art and shouldn't wear that brand new shirt? Or is it the other way around? And is this the day with the early pickups or the late pickups? And more important, is it you doing the pickup, or someone else, a someone else who is only available on particular days? Ahh, keeping up.
 
2. Knowing what week it is. Is this the Friday you are supposed to be at a school parents' gathering? And, since, in your infinite wisdom, you scheduled certain lessons to be every OTHER week, is this an on week or an off week? Because even if you're sure it's Tuesday, not all Tuesdays are created equal. Keeping up...
 
3. And what time is it again? Can you make a 20 minute trip take only 12, when you are trying hard to keep up with work and keep up with family too? And is this a day when you can get away with an extra half-hour of sleep, or one when that half-hour will leave you irreparably behind for hours? Try to keep up.
 
So, while you can start out each day planning to do great things, for yourself, for your family, or for the world, at the end of the day, if you've kept up--been on the right day of the right week of the right month, and relatively on time--sometimes keeping up is more than enough.

Revolving Doors

As I spun through the revolving door in my lobby to run an errand, not an hour after I had spun through it coming home, I had this feeling of life being like one big revolving door. You see, most of the time, we think about doors closing--jobs ending, opportunities falling through--and doors opening--chances we get through friends, gigs newly discovered. In reality, though, it is all more continuous than that. Sometimes these things happen one on top of another, so that it feels as though we are always on the move. Rarely do we simply walk through a door to something new or stand outside the door that has been closed on us. More often, we spin through that revolving door, sometimes multiple times a day, each time emerging just a little different that we were the last time we went through.
 
Did you ever notice how fascinated kids are with revolving doors? Instead of just going in and out, you can spin to get where you want. And (if your parents let you) you can spin a little more on the way to getting there, just because. Who wouldn't like that? So, thinking about life that way--as more of the endless circle of the revolving door, rather than the absolute opening and closing of regular doors--makes things seem a whole lot more fluid (and changeable), and definitely more fun. When you go through a regular door, either you see the other side through a glass door or you see absolutely nothing through a solid one. And once the door is opened, you are there. But when you travel through revolving doors, what is on the other side is a little more of a mystery, and how quickly you'll get to it is up to you and how fast you spin. And, just as the kids have discovered, isn't that a much more enjoyable way to live?
 
In our busy lives, there will be many trips through the revolving door every day. Here's to enjoying what that revolving door--literal and figurative--has to offer us!

Fully Engaged

Yesterday, we attended a performance at my daughter's musical theater workshop. Halfway through the series of scenes and songs, it occurred to me that I was not photographing or videotaping any of it. For a person used to recording everything, whether on video camera or with just an iPhone, this was unheard of--what kind of parent am I? Yet, I found myself so caught up in the performance, I just wasn't thinking "record for posterity." And after a moment of "bad parent" pause, I was actually glad. Glad to be enjoying the performance rather than sweating the video quality. Glad to be watching singing and dancing full size rather than on a tiny video screen. 

There's nothing wrong with capturing life's every move on video. It's nice to be able to look back on things we might not remember so clearly or have a record of how kids, who grow so fast, used to be. What I discovered yesterday, however, was how nice it was just to be in the moment, appreciating what I was seeing without worrying about having that moment on tape (or memory card) forever (or worrying that the card would fill or the battery would die). So often, we are so consumed with the keeping that we miss the enjoying. So wrapped up in the technical that we miss the beautiful.

I will not be able to watch my daughter's performance again. I will have to count on my memories of that performance to take me back, and that's okay. I was there--not as a camera person, but as a fully engaged audience member. And sometimes, that's even better.

Hurry Up And Wait

To this day, I still remember a location shoot I went on years ago. Well, actually, I don't really remember the content of the remote at all. What I do remember, however, is  talking to crew members who were used to working on films, who were boggled by the pace we were trying to keep. In soaps, there was rarely time for countless takes or multiple setups for each scene. For me, anything even resembling that felt like "hurry up and wait." So, while they were frustrated by what seemed to be a quicker than normal pace, I was frustrated by what seemed to me to be a slower than normal pace. It's all a question of your perspective, isn't it?
 
Even now, I feel as though I live in that soap pace (production pace, that is. Not storyline pace). I want things to come together quickly. I want to "finish an item" and move on. I want to cover all the angles at once, not sit and wait while each one is studied individually. It makes for a hurried life--or an efficient one--again, all a question of your perspective.
 
Funny how, all these years later, what I felt on just a day or two of location shooting still rings true. If "the floor is ready," I want to get it done. If things worked reasonably well, I want to move on. I guess that soap pace never really goes away.

Yes

Many years ago, when I was interviewing for a job, I was told that, should I be hired, I should plan for my answer to any question to be "yes." Could we shoot something in a different way? Yes. Could I have all the camera people ready with their shots at a moment's notice? Yes. Could I block cameras for a scene I had never seen before (or one that changed completely from the one I HAD seen?) Yes.
 
I got the job, and I have to say, I found the "yes" directive one of the most empowering edicts I had ever encountered. Saying "yes" makes you try harder. Saying "yes" keeps the creative juices flowing. Saying "yes" makes you realize that you (and the people around you) are capable of a lot more than you might have imagined.
 
Both as workers and as parents, we are surrounded by the opportunity to say "no." "No" to things that are unsafe, "no" to things that are inconvenient, "no" when we just want to be in control.
 
Tonight, as I thought about that job, and perhaps in the spirit of Friday night, I tried out saying "yes." "Yes" to dessert, "yes" to a video, "yes" to trying a game. It was challenging, as it was when I started that job all those years ago. But it was also freeing. And satisfying. And joyful.
 
That day in the job interview, the question of whether I could handle always having to say "yes" was designed to determine whether I was right for the job. But these many years later, I am still motivated by that question, and that challenge. "Yes" may be harder to say than "no," and certainly harder to accomplish, but, in the end, "yes" takes you a whole lot farther.

Merry-Go-Round

As I find myself once again writing in the early morning because the previous day and evening have completely slipped away from me, I am struck by how quickly things in life can change. While it once seemed that sitting home unemployed (and being able to write at any hour) would never end, it is now hard to remember how I got through all those hours. While it once seemed that I had all the time in the world for coffees and email exchanges, there are days now when I can't even imagine sitting in a coffee shop, and my emails are less than three words each. While it once seemed that the people I used to see were my only pipeline to the world, being adrift in the world for that period of time has made me realize that my pipeline is much bigger than I ever realized.
 
My point here is not that I am busy. We're all busy, in one way or another. My point is that, whether you are happy or frustrated with your life, things can change. Things WILL change. While on a daily basis, it may be hard to see beyond the hours of that day, in the big picture, life is like a merry-go-round where the horses and the music change each time it turns. It may seem that you are only going in the same circles, but each circle is actually quite different, and each circle teaches you just a little bit more about what you enjoy and what you can handle.
 
So, on the days when I feel as though I just want to get off the merry-go-round, I remind myself how fast the music can change, and how quickly there'll be a new horse for me to try--whether I like it or not. And I decide to stay on this merry-go-round of life.

Lucky Half-Hours

Every so often, even in a very busy life, a person has a half-hour. A half-hour between drop-off and work. A half-hour, because suddenly, a meeting is delayed. A half-hour, because the bus or train gets you there quicker than you planned.
 
I used to think that those half-hours were an invitation to "play hooky," to do some window shopping--or real shopping, to stop for a smoothie. In general to do something "decadent" that, without that half-hour, I would never have the time to do. It was satisfying.
 
What I am discovering these days is that there is something equally satisfying about spending those half-hours accomplishing things that seem hard to get done in the rest of the time that you have, but that need to get done (preferably sooner rather than later). Not the "buy milk," because you will do that regardless, but the "make annoying insurance phone call," because you will try to put that off forever. Not the "write a note to the teacher," because that is a must, but the "buy stamps for the letters that will need to go out in a few weeks," because that will make life a whole lot easier in a few weeks.
 
Essentially, I have discovered that a little thought to filling some of those half-hours differently makes the rest of my hours more than just a little better. It's not that I will never "play hooky" again. It's just that sometimes, I find satisfaction in making my life more pleasant for the long haul, not just for the half-hour.
 
So, here's to having those lucky half-hours--as often as possible. And here's to all the different ways we can use them well!