As seen on Blue Plaid Shirt, these are my URL ABCs:
A is for And If You Did Know? B is for bbum’s rants, code & references C is for CSS Vault D is for Daring Fireball E is for Etherfarm F is for Forwarding Address: OS X G is for Grey Expectations H is for Hivelogic I is for iWalt » WEblog J is for Jason Santa Maria K is for Kottke L is for Loobylu M is for Manical Rage N is for Nick Finck O is for On A Long Piece of String P is for Playground Blues R is for Rands in Repose S is for Sarah Hatter T is for Thought Anomalies U is for Uber Design V is for Veerle’s Blog W is for What Do I Know X is for XLab Z is for Zeldman
I’m missing Q and Y.
On the eve of becoming homeless (as in no longer owning a house variety, not the living in the back seat of my car variety) I am struck by at least one positive thought.
This will be the first spring in several years I haven’t had to battle with Maple seeds. You know, those little one-bladed helicopter jobs that twirl their way to the ground every spring. These are great when you’re eight-years-old, but not as much fun when you come equipped with gutters. Or a pool.
With a gas-heated pool we were able to be open, up, and running in plenty of time for the yearly airborne invasion. Hundreds of new seeds every day. Thousands of them. And what the salesman didn’t tell you about your pool is that, among other things, it is a magnet for Maple seeds. They plug up the skimmer, and the pre-filter on the pump itself. For about two weeks it was a daily chore to fish several pounds of water-logged Maple progeny out of the pool and its plumbing.
Then about the time the assault from on high was finished, and the pool was really open for business; the gutters started sprouting. Yes - sprouting. Maple seed in water germinate quickly. One day your house looks well maintained and the next you’ve got TREES growing in the gutters. Out comes the extension ladder, the leaf blower, and a 100 feet of electric cord. Up to the roof you go for an hour or so of mucky fun.
But not this year. This year I am gutter-less, pool-less, house-less, and seedless.
My driver’s license expires in just three weeks and so this afternoon Michele and I ventured out in search of the Kansas DMV so I could start the process of getting a new one. Having now lived in several states as a licensed driver, I’ve been through the gauntlet of tests, forms, lines, et cetera several times. I was expecting to get the review booklet today in preparation for a written test later.
Like all driver’s license centers, this one was true to the bare cinderblock walls and massively uncomfortable plastic chairs motif. When we arrived there were about 9 applicants in line ahead of us; by the time we left the line extend out of the building and on to the sidewalk.
The surprise was that no test was required. I barely had time to fill out the $22 check before I was getting my picture taken. My new Kansas license will be in the mail in two to three weeks.
Easily the least painful driver’s license exchange I’ve ever been through. And, as a bonus, I still have my soon to expire Illinois license intact.
The event we’ve been waiting for since last spring is finally on the calendar.
12:00 PM (Central time) April 29, 2005.
This is the date and time of the closing on our house in Illinois. Yep. It’s sold. Just a few more items on the “to-do” list, and a few more days on the calendar and we rejoin the ranks of the non-home owners. Even though we’ve been living in this, ah, apartment for the past 10 months we still felt like home owners because we were still home owners.
And we had the mortgage payments to prove it.
Now that we are about to be free from this burden we both are feeling bittersweet. We know that Illinois isn’t right for us and yet we feel a sense of loss about no longer having any real home - even if it was in Illinois. We have no idea when (or really even where) we’ll have a home, a house again. And the sense of displacement is powerful at times.
So we will have a closing, and that will move us one more step towards closure.
I haven’t had the desire or inclination to post much here lately. The added stress of trying to limp along financially until the closing on our house, and worries over whether we’ll be able to move out of this apartment soon have taken most of the wind out of my sails.
We have a solid contract on the house in Illinois. That’s the good news. The downside is the buyer is unmotivated to close early. Initially their offer had a contingency - they had to sell their house first - and we were able to keep ours on the market. We got a second offer without a contingency and accept it immediately. The first buyer met the terms of the contract and removed their contingency. They then had a number of inspections completed and produced rather lengthy list of nit-picky details needing attention. We had the option of refusing to address any of the items but ethically and morally we felt we had to at least make a token offer. So we countered with a $500 refund at closing time. Much to our eventual dismay the buyer accepted our terms.
If I were buying a house that needed some repairs, even minor ones, I would want it sooner rather than later. Even without the repairs I would want possession as soon as possible. These buyers aren’t motivated that way and it appears we’ll have to wait until the original date, June 13th, even though the contract clearly states, “June 13 or earlier.” That means three more months of no month and no room for error. Yes there is an end in sight, but somehow that makes the payments all the more bitter rather then providing any relief.
We’ve been looking at maintenance free homes in the area and are finding several communities we like. It would appear that we aren’t the only couple in the world who wants a low-maintenance house. We’ve found one we really like but unless I can get the job I’m angling for, and get a sign on bonus too, I don’t think we’ll be able to move just yet. Living here in this apartment has been difficult at best. Neither Michele or I feel entirely safe or at home here. It’s like a Residence Inn with our furniture. Oh and noisy intrusive neighbors. If I never, ever have to live with a neighbor through a common wall or ceiling again, it’ll be too soon.
For a long time I was looking for anyway possible out of this mess. Even drastic approaches held some appeal to me. In my experience and estimation, talking about all the choices you have, even the foolish or offbeat ones, is the only way to completely clear the emotional table. Leaving some option hidden away is like leaving a wound untreated. It’ll begin to fester and eventually infect the whole body with its poison. Consequently I have talked, sometimes openly and sometimes obliquely, about suicide in the last year. It is an option. Not a good one, but certainly there. In talking about it and thinking about it I have been able to evaluate my life very closely and honestly. It has given me a lens I wouldn’t have had otherwise.
I am extremely fortunate to share my life with Michele. And no matter how rough current conditions maybe, I will always have her love and support. One of the factors that makes our marriage so strong is that she can be my hero, and I can let her fill that role when I need. We have both leaned on each other a great deal in the last 12 months. Another two or three will see the worst of the financial burden behind us and then maybe I’ll start to relax and enjoy myself once again.
For now, it is enough to make it to the end of the day without either going postal at work, or spending some quality time in the garage with the car running.
I find myself in a rather morose mood today. This in spite of a firm contract for our house in Illinois, and the discovery of some new housing developments here producing ranch style homes we like. Selling our old house and thinking about a new one seems like jumping through hoops to me. Jumping through hoops that someone else is controlling.
Lately it seems as if the cost of living, the emotional and spiritual cost, is far greater than the benefit it buys. I work, sleep, work again, cook, sleep again, and so on. Endlessly repeating the same activities just so I can be alive one more day. Just so I can lift the burden that my life has become. I am so very tired of all of the drama and turmoil. I am worn out from worrying and stress, and I am exhausted from trying to fit in and belong in a society that seems alien to me.
Losing my sister when I was twelve years old scarred me for life. It profoundly altered my understanding of our limited time here in this physical plane. When I look at the loved ones in my life today I see that I am fortunate beyond words. I have a loving wife who is beautiful outside and in. I share my home with two felines that return my love with joy and nonjudgmental love of their own. And after years of hard work on myself I finally have, and accept that I have, the best relationship possible with my family. I also see death. Baring a deliberate intervention on my part I will outlive all that I love and live for. Sitting here this afternoon I know that I will be alone at the end of my life.
So, what does it all mean? What is the purpose of living if in the end all you love dies; and you yourself pass on leaving a fading ripple on the surface of life’s water? I try to live for the moment, accepting the emotions and thoughts each day brings and releasing them as soon as they are past. But sometimes I get into a mood, and then all I can see is the darkness along the path ahead. And while I am not afraid of facing the darkness anymore, I am weary of facing it again and again.
My statistics page tells me that zanshin.net has been viewed just over 30,000 times since late September. I’m averaging about 5,000 page views a month.
That’s pretty cool.
What it doesn’t account for is the number of “page views” that are the result of referrer spambots. Even using the “rel=nofollow” tag convention subscribed to by all the major search engines hasn’t slowed the steady attempts to use my site for their slimy purposes.
Still 30,000 page views is 30,000 page views.
It has been one year since I lost my contract in Illinois. As I sit here this morning it is hard to believe it has been just a year. Seems more like ten years.
The past twelve months have been unbelievably hard for both of us. Depression has been our constant companion and nemesis. For every small triumph there has been a constant nagging feeling that we were just throwing bricks into the Grand Canyon.
Throughout it all we have had each other; and without each other Michele and I never would have survived this ordeal. Even today, with a contract on the house (87 days or less until it is off our backs), my career looking up, and Michele’s teaching taking off, it is hard not to feel a sense of loss. We are living in an apartment not a house. We have no savings left and will owe a considerable amount of money once the house is sold. We are literally starting over at ground zero.
Only, we aren’t starting over with nothing. We have each other, and we have a lifetime’s experience to guide us. Some of the lessons we’ve learned were costly and painful; but they were learned. We are older and wiser and focused on ourselves.
Personally I have come to realize that I have no control at all over anything. I can’t control my job, my family, even my wife is ‘beyond my control.’ However, and this is the important part, I can control how I choose to react to the stimulus’s in my life. For example, I can choose to be upset about happenings at work, or I can choose to be serene and not fall into the trap of thinking I can control what lies outside of me.
One the first postings I ever made to this site has been figuring prominently in my thinking lately. Our Four Agreements is my version of the serenity prayer. The last 365 days has been a post-graduate course in not taking anything personally.
366 days ago my world was safe and secure. I was unaware of the coming turmoil and stress. I don’t know what I would have done had I been given a chance to look ahead - knowing what was coming would have made this all the harder. Today I have no idea what tomorrow, or the next 365 days, holds for me. I can choose to dwell on the future and worry about it, but I know from this past year that all the worry in the world can’t control the world. Instead I choose to live in this moment; I choose to accept this moment for what it is and nothing more.
After months of no activity on our house for sale in Illinois we suddenly find ourselves at the center of a small “bidding war.” Last weekend we received an offer, and after a round of verbal bidding and counter bidding, agreed to a contract. The prospective buyers have to sell their home first, so the contract contains a contingency. The terms of the contingency allow them 24 hours to remove it should we get another offer.
Today we got that other offer. Its only for a few hundred dollars more than the original offer, but the closing date is sooner and this second offer has no contingency. To make the second offer extremely interesting it is from a long time friend of mine, a former work mate.
We accepted the second offer and immediately faxed back the paperwork to the realtor. She has informed the original buyers and we are now waiting to see what they’ll do. If they remove their contingency and go for a bridge loan we’ll complete the deal with them. If they back out, then my friend will get the house. Either way we get it off our backs.
By this time tomorrow we’ll know one way or the other.
Throughout our lives we encounter people and situations that alter us. Emotions, physical sensations, and thoughts all combine to leave new perceptions of the world around us. Over time our perceptions become a set of filters through which the real world passes before becoming our own personal reality. Obviously the oldest and perhaps strongest of these filters come from childhood. Your parents and immediate family members are the people you have the most contact with; and that contact comes at a time when we are un-molded clay, still pliable and unresistant to change.
From my life experience I have developed several filters that control how I respond to people who are officious and passive-aggressive. If the person I am interacting with is in a position of authority (real, or projected on my part) then the application of this filter is swift and often detrimental to my well-being. In other words, I revert back to the set of emotional responses and cognitive processes I had when the filter was created. If the filter was made at a time when you were healthy and stable, the result of its application will most likely be positive. If the filter stems from events when you felt out of control, or helpless in any way; its application will result in a return of those feelings. The filter I have developed for officious or passive-aggressive authority figures leaves me feeling invalidated, unheard, and angry.
I want to lash out at the person I perceive as treating me this way, when in reality I am reacting to the stimulus of the filter and not the person. Maybe the person is truly officious, maybe not. Only by stepping back far enough from the situation to see the filter and the person separately, can I identify whether they are truly the way I perceive. And only then can I choose how I wish to respond.
Like dark sunglasses protect us from ultra-violet radiation, our perception filters shade us from unwanted or harmful situations. Only by taking the sunglasses off can we see the real colors of the world around us. And only by carefully examining our responses to people or situations can we learn to identify our metaphysical dark glasses, so we can remove them and see the true colors of our own personal reality.