Another Year Older

Birthdays…

So it came to pass that I am a year older, not really a year wiser, and for all the hub bub I feel… about the same.

The last few weeks had seemed rough, dark, not quite so happy. I felt old. I figured it was the approached of the dreaded birthday. I’m not sure why it was dreaded, but it was. The feeling grew heavier and heavier with each passing day, each second that ticked closer to that fateful day was like the tolling of some horrid bell.

Only then did I realize that it was not the impending doom of my birthday which had had worn me down till I was but a nub of myself. I didn’t feel old because of another year being tacked on. I had felt old all these weeks because my imagination had seemed to forsake me. As a painter, an aspiring writer, my imagination had always been there for me. It was a close friend, a confidant, a secret love, and it had vanished. I looked at clouds and merely saw water vapor hanging in the sky, I saw no patterns forming the hidden faces of wood nymphs and ancient tree spirits in the leaves and bark of the forest trees. My imagination had left me to wander, and without it I was lost. I blamed my birthday for surely getting older meant sooner or later you must give up your imagination, you must give up the thoughts of fancy that delighted you in your youth.

Then suddenly the day before there was a change in the breeze, a shift in the winds of my mind. A light switched on in my brain, and the darkness vanished. I found myself humming, and then whistling, and finally singing with all my might. What was I singing you might ask? Well, I was singing “I won’t grow up” from Peter Pan. I found it odd at first that I would have such a tune in my head. I hadn’t seen the movie in years. Why then did the song find its way to the surface of my brain on this the day before my birthday. The answer is really very simple. I needed it. I needed it then more than ever before. I was forcing myself to grow up, with all the dieting and have to’s and schedule of this and that, and it was my minds way of bringing me back, of reminding me that I don’t have to grow up if I don’t want too.

Then just like that, my friends were back, I could see the smiling faces in the leaves and the bark, I could see the hungry dragons flying in the clouds. My imagination had returned. Although in hind sight it had never left me, I had left it. The world had been so dark without my dear friend and now it was light again. All because I accepted that I wouldn’t grow up. Another year meant nothing. It was a day in which to celebrate, to rejoice at staving off old age. You are only old if you believe you are old, if you let others believe you are old.

Say no, stay young, keep the wonder of a child. Remember your oldest friend, it was there for you before you could even know it was, and if you call, it will return. Let your imagination run away with you for a bit. Look into the clouds and see what you find, see how many goblins you can see hiding in the patterns of your bathroom tile. What is their story? You might be surprised to find you feel much younger when you dust off your old friend.

A little bit o' happy

It is back. My dream, my vision, my ambition. Today I will reread all I have written thus far, and perhaps even begin upon a new expedition into the dark and oft perilous world I have begun to create.

I spoke with someone today, someone I had not spoken too in some time. It was for lack of a better word, enlightening. I said something to him, which upon reflection, I needed to apply with the utmost haste to my own life. I told him "You have to be happy for yourself, and cannot let others affect your happiness." Simple words really, but each day we all let so many outside forces determine if we will be happy. Shouldn't we be the judge of that? Granted, occasionally we all need time to feel sad, or mad, or just plain down. What would happiness be without those to make it all the brighter? What is crimson or sapphire, if all the world is in shades of grey?

As of late I had felt myself... dwindling, as it were. My mind drifted from project to project, never settling on any one thing to do, never getting excited about anything I did. I thought it was just a down day, clearly it would go away. I forced myself to move on, to smile the smile, walk the walk. Each day became much like the one before it, all fading into nothing, nothing accomplished. Then I realized I had let others affect me to such an extent that I was no longer in control of my own happiness. I had let missed plans, broken promises, and unreliability, all affect my happiness. I was lost, a ship being tossed along the waves like Neptune's plaything. I had to find my way back to land, to set my feet once again upon solid ground.

So as of now, I take back my happiness. It is in my keeping. I will smile because it is what I feel, and not that which I should do. I will write, because I want to, because I want to see my world come to life, because I want to show myself I am good enough to do this. Not for anyone else, not for those that have doubted, not for those who may have at any point naysayed, but for me. I do what I do for me. Until I can be happy for me what good am I to those around me?

In the end, we are all in charge of our own happiness, outside forces come and outside forces go. You are the one true constant in your life. If you are as lucky as I am, you have found your soul mate and you have one other constant on which you can rely. In this ever changing world, only you can make yourself happy. So be happy and make your happiness all your own.

State of Mind

I woke up this morning determined, my mind sent, every fiber of my being focus, ready to face the day and make it bend to my will. I was ready, despite a rather poor night sleep, I was awake and ready to show the world who was boss. I was going to write some of the finest chapters the world had ever seen (or at least that I had ever written). The world within my book would have new life breathed into it this day, and the characters would dance along the pages flowing from my finger tips as they clacked along the keyboard.

Then I got some news which I hadn’t been expecting. Nothing that directly affected me, but it had impact. It stopped me dead in my tracks. And I was disappointed, not in myself, as I said the news didn’t directly involve me, and it had taken place a short while back, so it wasn’t even as if it was fresh news, hot off the presses. I was disappointed in someone else, someone hundreds of miles away, but even hundreds of miles away the news of what had happened, what they had allegedly done, hit me like a brick wall.

Like that my state of mind, which had been so fierce, so focused, like a tiger on the hunt, was shattered. I was a kitten trapped in a tree, the world laughing at me from far below as gravity threatened to toss me to the ground. Sure I could land on my feet, but it was so far, it might hurt. My thoughts scattered, wandering to and fro, still wanting to make the most of the day, but now thinking of the other person, wanting to give them a good swift kick on the backside, shake some sense into them. But knowing that they are hundreds of miles away and not even having a way to reach them, that all such thoughts would be in vain and should be tossed into the ether.

So here I sit, my mind torn in two, trying desperately to regain its focus, and knowing that until I do, I am in no state of mind in which to work on my beloved project. So there it must sit, waiting for me to return, knowing I will, once I have collected my thoughts and can give it all the attention it so truly deserves. Writing must be undertaken in the right state of mind, or what chance do the characters stand, how many would fall needlessly in battle as your mind struggles with itself.

I understand so much more since I started this endeavor. So many things are based on a state of mind. A state of mind which we have so little control over, and is in a constant state of flux. So now I am going to sit, to drink my lovely coffee beverage, and think. Think of ways to return to my previous state of mind, or at least some semblance thereof.

Customer Service...

Does anyone else remember a time when Customer Service used to mean more? Not just putting people on hold, and repeating the same things over and over again, but actually doing something to serve the customer. When people went out of their way to try to make sure every customer was, not only satisfied with the service they received, but downright happy with it. What happened to those days? When did the bare minimum become enough?

As a person who hopes to one day co-own a game store, the lack of customer service in the world lately boggles my mind. Everything from wait staff neglecting tables, to no one asking if they can help in a store, to customer service people on the phones being just plain unhelpful. The concept of customer service, what it really means, is dying, the final pitter patters of its frail little heart are quickly fading away. What has caused this atrophy in the desire to help?

There was once a time when the customer was always right, and maybe that's not entirely true. (I know people who could really milk that one for all it's worth.) Now it almost seems as though we have gone to far the other way, the customer is never right. (No one says it, but come on, we have all seen it at least once.) What ever happened to a happy medium? Maybe the customer is right, unless they're a complete tool.

Why is it so hard to get people, who get paid to help, to help? If I give you every 99% of the details of my account information, why can't you reset an email address for me so I can access my account? If I'm at your table, and it's not busy, why aren't you at least coming over when you can see me looking for you? If I'm pacing in a store, obviously trying to find something, why are you walking right by without asking if you can help me find something? These should be common sense things.

Customer service is such an easy way to make sure more and more people come to your place of business, or buy your product, or order your service. So when did customer service go out the window in place of whatever is easiest?

For anyone in the customer service industry, or in any industry where they may interact with customers, I really hope you are the exception to what seems to be the rule as of late. Only you know if you are, but please, I beg you, as a consumer, take pride in what you do and ask yourself each and every day if there is anything more you can do to help? We need you to save customer service.

Recharge

So I realized something quite interesting over the last few days. How important it is to take time to recharge your batteries. No, not real batteries (although I guess those are important too). Rather, the invisible ones, the ones in your mind and your heart and your spirit. The batteries that so often, in the hustle and bustle of things, seem to run down and be forgotten about.

I have spent the last week forcing myself to sit in front of a computer, willing my fingers to type, to work on a story that I know is inside me just waiting to come out. In a weeks’ time, I have managed a paragraph. That is dismal by pretty much every standard out there.

Now, I have a theory on this, I hadn't realized my batteries were low. Between running kids around, last minute changes to plans, every day things that need to be taken care of, and way too many late nights (trying to figure out why I couldn't come up with anything to write) my batteries had drained down to an abysmally low level. Then, on top of it all, since I was trying to force myself to write something that just wasn't there at the moment, the writing was turning into work, not fun. And we all know that work can be a horrible 4 lettered word sometimes.

I realized this afternoon, as I was sitting behind my computer desk once again trying in vain to write, but with my chin resting on the window sill, staring longingly out the window into the yard beyond, that I didn't want to be cooped up inside at a desk when this is the first beautiful Monday we have had in god only knows how long. I realized that it was time for a change in perspective. I would still try to write, but I would do it on my terms. Out came the laptop, and my trusty jump drive, and I was off to the hammock. Within 30 minutes, only 30 minutes, I had over 1000 words filling the screen which had previously been threatening eternal blankness. I had recharged my batteries. I had found what I needed to do for myself, to appease the creative muses and lure them once again to my side.

Will this work every time I am at a loss? I highly doubt it, that would be far too easy. But it worked this time, the words flow once again. I can write my story, I can write this blog, I feel like my old unstoppable self, ready to take on the world. Ok maybe not the whole world, but at least a chunk of it.

No matter how busy your life gets, no matter what you HAVE to do. Take a few minutes and recharge your batteries. Change your perspective, do something a way you wouldn't normally do it, mix things up a bit. You never know it might be just what you need...