Today...

I am sitting alone in a Corner Bakery booth, ear buds firmly in place, Mason Jennings drowning out the many conversations taking place around me. In my hand, alternates a red pen and a fork, taking bites of pasta in between essay comments and grading.


I have a lovely seat by the window that frames the courtyard containing seasonally decorated trees. It’s quite picturesque really – there is just enough of a breeze that the rustling leaves create a subtle, almost star-like twinkling effect with the white lights.

In contrast to my rather gloomy Saturday, tonight I do not feel lonely or lacking. There is no melancholy, no invisible weight, no real longing aside from the wish that these essays will magically grade themselves. No, tonight, after a long day of kids, meetings, grades, lectures, and tests, I am at peace. Tonight, sitting here in my corner of the world, I am content.

Therapy via Blog

Mental Health Days. Have you ever taken a mental health day from work? I am not ashamed to say that I have. In fact, most of my "sick" days are of the mental health variety- that breather I need in order to get my priorities back in order, to refocus my lessons and my motives for teaching.

I took such a day today, except today is Saturday – no kiddos, no lessons, no commute to call in sick from, so you may be wondering from what, then, did I take a mental health day.

I have been quite moody lately. Not in the sense that I am snapping at people or throwing random tantrums. I have, though, been a bit self-pitying. I am usually good about fighting this melancholy that comes along, but today I called in. I did not reason it away or seek outside stimulus to, at the very least, distract myself. Nope. Today, I breathed deeply this melancholy and let myself feel the full force of its almost tangible weight.

I am sure there are many, many arguments as to why this is a stupid and possibly psychologically damaging practice (which is why I normally do not do this), but today, I did not have the energy to fight it. Nor, quite frankly, did I have the inclination to find the energy.

I ignored my phone, my email, and my better judgment and wallowed in my onset loneliness/heaviness. I allowed my over analytic mind to critique all my shortcomings, question my decisions, and steal what little motivation I had in me. I indulged in Del Taco, baked brownies, and watched tv via Hulu pretty much all day. I should feel awful about this. I don’t. I called in sick. Yes, from life.

I am realizing that my melancholy is like the flu. I feel achy (emotionally) and it gets worse before it gets better. Though I wallowed today, my fever broke. I am not fully recovered; however, I can say with certainty that I am on the road to recovery. I took a break from my hulu marathon to browse some art bloggers sites, which got me drawing and even feeling a little inspired.

It may sound small but this is the equivalent to taking that first shower after being in bed for a couple days. That refreshing feeling, as if the last few days of blah are circling the drain, never to be seen again.

Just Be

Whilst (yeah, that’s right, whilst) driving to work on Friday, I did something I never, ever do: I turned off the radio. You heard me, off, not down, but off. I am a fiend for sound – music especially, but I’m not opposed to talk radio either. In fact, Damien Rice is serenading me as I type this, but I digress.

It started with me being tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally, so I turned down the radio and said a very exasperated “Lord, I need something.” I did not specify what that something was because I didn’t quite know. I am blessed, so very blessed, but I have been feeling as though I am missing out on something- oh that elusive something.

When I did this, I turned the radio completely off in order to focus a little more. I’m pretty sure it was right after the “Lord, I’m just… done” lament that “Be still and know that I am God” popped into my head, and I was immediately a little more settled. This lasted for a good two seconds before I realized this is not what I am good at, this being still thing.

Even when I am being sedentary, I am not still per say. Regardless of my activity or inactivity, my mind is usually racing. I’m sure I am not alone. If over analyzing were an Olympic event (albeit a really, really boring one), I would be the Michael Phelps of the event. Even as I was trying to “be still” in my car, the idea to write this down was streaming through my brain. Ironic, right? It is not that I am not content with my own company; it’s just that the hamsters that keep my brain going never seem to need to rest. Pesky little things really.


This is the hamster in my head, keeping my brain on a constant loop

Anyway, I am trying to practice being still. I figure I can give this a go during my commute. I have heard many people say that one cannot be still while driving, but I am thinking this would actually be good for me. I obviously have to focus on the road, which will take enough of my attention to allow me to just be. This is the plan. Wish me luck.

In Praise of Vinyl

Before the modern conveniences that deliver music through cyberspace and MP3 players, before Compact Disks, before cassettes, before eight track even (now I’ve lost some of you, but stay with me), there was vinyl. Some of you may not be familiar with the record: a wonderful compacted circle of vinyl that fills the room with whatever song that has been pressed into its grooves.

Personally, I have a very modest collection of these throwbacks. Cultivated through garage sales and thrift stores and whittled by various moves, the collection I have now is one of those things I cannot image getting rid of. There are times I think that I do not need these records (those rare moment of logic I experience). In fact, I have most songs on my ipod, and let’s face it, I listen to that more than any record I own. I mean, it’s not as if I can strap on a record player as I work out or hook one up in my Jetta, right? So why do I keep my records?

The answer is quite simply because I love them. Many people mock the record for its scratched effect and white noise that it creates, not to mention many of the song mixes are laughable by today’s digital standard, but these are the reasons why I love records.

I love the absence of auto-tune, digitally adjusted guitars, drums, and basses, and perfectly balanced sounds. Although I know much planning and work went into making these vinyl fossils of music, the lack of polished audio perfection gives them a raw, almost spontaneous feel. A feeling that if I were magically transported to a Glen Miller concert, it would sound exactly like it does on the record.

Perhaps my imagination runs away a little too much, but I also get the idea that the artists and engineers had to be more creative in translating the sounds they heard in their heads to what could actually be recorded.



Brian Setzer paid tribute to Sun Records by recording from its early catalog of songs and using the same techniques as they used. I thoroughly enjoyed reading about his experience of recording in a bathroom or singing into can in order to achieve the sound he was after. I suppose I assume all artists had to be so inventive during the reign of vinyl.

Somehow records make me experience the act of listening to music more.

Getting back on track

Write about a “plate of sunshine”:


I once had a plate of sunshine, but I ate it.


Okay, so that was short. So…what to write, what to write? My brain is rusty, my fingers fumbly, my soul anxious for words, for expression that I want to unfold. But why? What is this thing in me that needs to write, to make electronic expression of my thoughts, emotions? Is it odd or ironic that I find it impossible to put that desire into words? Ha! I am speechless over my need to speak. Hmph. Either way, I found myself searching through prompts and came across the above and, well, you see how far I got.

A few images come to mind in the “plate of sunshine” vein: sunshine snacks on a plate, pancakes with cut strawberries outlining it sugary perimeter, sugar cookies with yellow sprinkles, or even just a plate full of food that was made with cheery disposition. I even had a weird image of me on a plate due to a nickname I had a lifetime ago. But, like I said, my mind is a bit rusty, so the images stopped there – no story or even funny little anecdote.

I think, no, I know I forget that writing is not just a talent, it is a discipline. I have some incredibly talented friends, some who write enrapturing novels and others who write beautiful songs, and I allow myself to be lazy in writing because it seems as if it comes so naturally to them. This is not to say that they don’t work, I know they do. Nevertheless, there does seem to be this mystique around their creations that I seem to fall so short of in my own writing. And so, instead of practicing, I shrug my shoulders and say “you either got it or you don’t” and let myself off the hook.

However, I do believe it is time that I am honest with myself: I could be a lot better if I were more disciplined. If I treated writing like any other skill, I could grow it and strengthen it. I must also admit however, that there is a bit of fear there as well: what if I’m wrong. As long as I don’t push myself, I can use that as an excuse. The silly (and sometimes pathetic) notion that if I don’t try, there’s no way I can fail. It’s science after all, and you can’t fight science, right?  No more.  Today is the day it ends and I get crackin'.

To all those that encourage this little literary release of mine, thank you. I will now do my part and be more diligent in honing my skill…and this time, I mean it.

Staying Positive

Blessings are those things that make life worth while, yet they are also those things that we can overlook or  easily forget, especially those small blessings that fill the spaces between “major” life events. I know that I am guilty of focusing on the task at hand or the latest thing to go wrong (which is even worse) instead of keeping my mind on the good things that happen. I have an FB friend who continually posts “Stay Positive” and even went so far as to explain that it wasn’t just a flippant saying but truly a way of life.

This is my dad and me staying positve.

When I am faced with seeing things positively or negatively, I generally feel that things will work out and that, in the end, the good outweighs the bad. I must confess, however, that this school year, I have found that I am loosing sight of the big picture and am allowing myself to indulge in wading in the negative side of things. A puddle of pessimism if you will, which, left unchecked, will grow. Here I am, checking myself. And not in that downward spiral being negative on myself for not being more positive kind of way, but in the truly staying positive with real life evidence to back it up kind of way.

This idea of literally counting my blessings has been rolling in my head for a bit now and his reminder of lifestyle over tagline boosted me to create a list of blessings. The idea being akin to daily bread, you know, as in “give us this day…” and focusing on the small, could-possibly-fall-through-the-cracks kind of tidbits that I am privy to on a daily basis. Although it is true that there will be days that I am bowled over by Heavenly favor (which really, shouldn’t I be everyday when I actually consider all that God has given me), the main focus of this “track” sheet will be to remind myself of the good things, even on the days that feel like they are plotting against me.

So, I've decided to have this open for viewing. I strive to be Pathologically Optimistic; the daily posts will be similar to the “high/low” game, you know, without the low. I hope you enjoy and feel inspired to do something similar. I would also love if you shared your highlight of the day with me.

An Open Letter

To Those Who Create:


Thank you.

For your bravery and generosity to share a piece of yourself, thank you. For your words, songs, images, thank you. For your inspiration, thank you.

There are so many distractions and stresses in this world, it so nice to be reminded of its immense beauty. Sometimes the beauty is from the ashes, but there is beauty just the same. Other times it is a matter of capturing a moment of pure bliss that reminds us of the capacity for joy in life.

It is a brilliance to see this yourself, and (as corny as it may sound) it is a gift when you let the world in on your view of things. Whether that perspective is melodic or seen through a viewfinder, it is unique. It is art and, more profoundly, a window to the artist.

So much is told about a photographer by the focus of her photos, her portfolio. What an insight song lyrics can give to a your history and philosophy. How telling it is that you can write about stories and observations that add laughter to the lives of your friends (and subscribers). I am blessed to have so many selflessly creative friends who put it all out there. You expose so much of yourself in the quest to share your creations and that is down right noble.

It is not an easy thing to put your work out there, so, once again I thank you.

Sincerely,
One Who Has Been Inspired

PS. I know the 'thank you' is a little vague, but follow the links to see, read, listen to the details.