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“The Grey Boy” – End of the Day for September 25, 2014

September 25th, 2014 Comments off

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The Grey Boy

By Douglas E. Welch

The war had ended only months ago. 1865 would be a year of peace after four Aprils of war. The boys, made men, were riding the trains home.

Joshua Farmer sat at the rear of the passenger car. No one sat next to him, even though it was crowded. He was an island of grey in a sea of blue. His grey, Confederate uniform was tattered and dirty but his head was held high.

The other soldiers in the car had spent many hours murmuring and gesturing amongst themselves. Joshua could hear the anger in their whispering voices. He had faced many fights in his week-long journey home.

The fanfare at each station increased the further north they traveled. Bands of every shape and size played marches and the crowds cheered as each man disembarked from the train. Joshua hunkered down in his seat, wrapping a worn blanket around his shoulders to hide the grey uniform from the onlookers. He feared they might pull him from the train and harm him before he made it to his own hometown.

The train and its passengers were following the same route that President Lincoln’s body had traveled in his funeral train. They traveled in the opposite direction though, away from Illinois, “The Land of Lincoln” and into Ohio.

Joshua had begun to recognize the city names they passed in the last several hours. Several more and he, too, would finally be home. He held no expectations of cheering crowds for him, though. He had made plans to slip off the train quietly and make his way to his house as quickly as possible.

[Unidentified soldier in Confederate uniform and snake belt buckle with Enfield rifle and saber bayonet]  (LOC)

Night was falling and that was to his advantage. He would be harder to spot in the lamp and torch light of the station crowd and the general commotion would cover his exit. There would be no one at the station to meet Joshua. He had warned his mother and sister to stay away in case there was any trouble at the station. They had suffered enough over the last four years.

The train followed the flat farm fields with their wooded fence rows. He saw buggies filled with torch bearers racing the train to the station. Shouts and whoops resounded to and from the windows of the train as they caught sight of familiar faces.

The train halted for long periods at the larger cities of Mansfield, Bucyrus and Crestline. Finally the train moved onto Joshua’s town, New London. He had seen much in the 5 years he had been gone but very little would he want to remember. Joshua only wanted to see home. The home he had dreamed of every night during the war.

The conductor called “New London. Next stop, New London.” A few men, maybe 10 or 20, gathered their haversacks and hats and looked out the windows for familiar faces. Final good-byes were exchanged with many promises to stay in touch. Joshua made his way slowly towards the rear of the train. He planned to exit at the door nearest the caboose to conceal himself as much as possible.

The train slowed to a stop. Its arrival shrouded in a cloud of steam. The local band struck up “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” How foreign it sounded to his ears after years of hearing little but the strains of “Dixie” played innumerable times by countless people. Many of them who no longer walked the earth.

As the crowd cheered and crushed toward the train, Joshua slung his blanket tighter around his shoulders and stepped off the car. The train was too long for the small station at New London. The platform did not reach its entire length. The last few cars were left to empty along the coarse rock of the rail bed.

This was to Joshua’s advantage as he quickly walked to the high weeds surrounding the tracks, slipped down the small embankment and began walking the dirt streets home. He left the main street, lined with lamps and clogged with traffic and made for the darkened side lanes toward his family house. A few noted his departure but to his relief no one followed or shouted.

The streets were much busier than normal. Buggies and wagons rolled by, packed to bursting with happy families. The one saloon in town roared with a noise like Satan himself was the proprietor.

Ahead, a substantial frame house appeared in his view. A lamp stood in the window, looking more welcoming than Joshua could have ever imagined, although he had thought of it a thousand times. He quickened his step and was soon passing through he small gate. He approached the door, knocked, placed his hand upon the latch…and entered.

Inside the door, to the left, in a small parlor, sat Joshua’s mother in a rocker by the fire. She did not rise to greet him but sat, quietly sobbing, with tears streaming down here face. He went to her kissed here tears and kneeled at her feet.

His sister, Julie, threw her arms around him from behind and cried against the scratchy coat of his uniform. They cried together, all three of them, for many minutes, his mother running her fingers through his long unruly hair.

The door opened and Joshua’s father appeared. He was a large man with a shocking head of white hair. His eyes met Joshua’s and burned with some deep anger or hurt. He grunted a greeting and went immediately into me kitchen. 

Joshua found his father sitting before the fire, holding a small photograph, his head hanging low. Joshua had feared this meeting but knew it had to be settled. “You must go,” said his Father. “You are still my son but I cannot look on you without seeing your brother. You must find your own lodgings tomorrow. You can no longer stay here.”

It was Joshua’s brother Jeremy, in the photo. He had been lost early in the war at the First Battle of Bull Run.” He had only found out himself a few weeks ago when he was able to receive letters from his mother. It was useless to argue. His father might eventually forgive him but the pain was still to strong.

Joshua prepared himself a bath and sat long in thought until the water was cold. He washed and shaved properly for the first time in months, slowly returning to some semblance of his former self. He had lost much weight during the war and looked sickly yet from the diseases he had suffered. Still, dressed in his old clothes again, he thought there was still something of the old Joshua left.

He had just settled down in his favorite chair before the parlor fire when he heard the rustling of people on the street in front of the house. He pulled aside the curtain and noticed several people gathered at the gate. His father was talking with them. He seemed agitated and his gestures became more and more angry.

Joshua stood in the front doorway  and  inquired what was the matter. As soon as he did he heard the men cry, “Johnny Reb, go home!” and “You’re not wanted here.” Joshua’s father told him to get back in the house and turned on the men. “Leave us be,” he said. “We want no trouble and you are drunk. Go home and sleep it off before someone gets hurt.” Some of the men carried torches and others still carried their rifles and side arms. Most were still dressed in their blue Union Army uniforms.

An officer, in a grand dress uniform, stepped forward and calmed the men around him. He talked in hushed tones to Joshua’s father who alternately shook his head and nodded. There seemed to be some negotiation happening although Joshua could not hear them talk above the noise of the men who still stood around, grumbling to themselves.

Eventually, the office turned to the men and shouted, “Let’s be off to more celebrations my good men. We have won a victory. Let us remember the celebration and forget the tragedies. Come along and I will buy the next round to your health, if you will drink to mine.” With that, the men gathered together and lifting the officer to their shoulders, carried him off towards the saloon.

Joshua’s father returned and said, “They were ready to take you off and lynch you tonight. I don’t know what you were thinking. You should have never come back. Thank goodness Major Johnson intervened. Otherwise we would have had a fight on our hands. You owe him your life. They might even have burned down the house. You have to leave soon. There will be others and we will not be so lucky next time.”

As the long night passed more people gathered outside the house. Dawn came and the former soldiers were joined by women and children who came to see “The Grey Boy” as they had come to call Joshua. They couldn’t imagine a rebel in their midst and thought of him like some circus curiosity.

More catcalls came and young boys peeked in the windows until chased away with a brandished cane. The town constable had been called but instead of dispersing the crowd he joined it. Hurling catcalls with the others. Joshua knew something had to be done. He had traveled all this way only for a chance to rest but now he saw that even that was impossible. He was putting everyone at risk.

As quickly as he could, Joshua began to gather his belongings. He had had a traveling trunk before but that was lost during the war. He had only an old, small suitcase and he filled it to bursting. His mother and Julie assisted him while still pleading for him to stay and crying his shoulder. He offered soothing words but was determined to go.

After an hour or so he was prepared. A bundle of food was added to his baggage and he moved towards the front door. As soon as he appeared the crowd sprang to life shouting hurtful things and flinging old fruit and other garbage at him. Fortunately, the trip to the train station was a short one as he was followed by the mob, growing stronger as they traveled through the center of town. He feared he might not make it and be hung from a tree, like he had seen done to slaves in the South.

Joshua had planned his departure to match the train schedule. Not long after he arrived the train appeared. He quickly boarded and tried to stay hidden from the crowd. Even though he was leaving, the crowd seemed to be placing the entire blame of war on his shoulders. Shouts of “murderer” came from those who lost sons in the war. The guilt he felt would never disappear and this made him feel it even more keenly.

At last, the train left the station, bound for Cleveland. There Joshua could become anonymous. He could hide from his history there, if not from himself. The cries and shouts slowly died and he moved to the window once he thought it safe. As they approached a crossing outside of town he saw a wagon waiting to pass. As he got closer he saw his mother, sister and yes, his father watching the train. He caught their eyes and raised a hand as the car passed, never knowing when he could see them again. Four years of war had ended but it would be many years before the wounds of war would heal.


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Friends after 50 – End of the Day for September 24, 2014

September 24th, 2014 Comments off

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I have noticed a trend happening for years now, but it seems to have accelerated lately. We once seemed to have a large groups of friends — real friends, too — not just acquaintances. Our parties were full of people who we really liked and it never seemed any trouble to have someone over for dinner almost any time we wanted. Over the years we also had several younger or at least single, friends who became part of the family for a while, spending large amounts of time with us and almost feeling like siblings or sometimes, older children, more than just friends.

Each year, though, our friends have peeled off one by one. Having children was one of the first big changes that broke us apart. As we well understood, children take a lot of time. While we all turn our focus inwards when our children our young, we made conscious efforts to find time for ourselves and our adult friends whenever we could. Several friends became non-blood relatives to our child — the uncles and aunts that he knew better than he knew his familial aunts, uncles and cousins. Other friend virtually disappeared. Beyond the occasional holiday newsletter — or Facebook message today — we hardly knew them anymore. Now, most of our children are old enough to have their own lives, but we’ve lost touch with our friends. Joseph is off to hang out with his girlfriend most weekends, so we have plenty of time, but very few people to spend that time with.

I can understand this in many ways, but it certainly doesn’t make me happy. I have seen my own friends, especially make friends, fall off, one by one. Now Rosanne and I have several “couple” friends and she has quite a few girlfriends she can hang out with, but I really don’t have any close male friends I can just “hang out” with. Now, let me be clear, I am not always the best person at hanging out, but I don’t think I drove them all away with my behavior. I don’t have the typical male interests like sports, cars or bar drinking, so this might have something to do with it, but as far as I know, those aren’t the deepest interests of many of my friends, either.

Basically, what I am trying to say is that, after 50, life can get a bit lonely. Everyone is so tied up with their own lives an the space for others in those lives is limited, if not nonexistent. I try to put together events and give people excuses to come out, even for an hour or two to share time with us and others, but inertia is a strong force and can often keep us in our chairs on most evenings. I know that feeling myself and this somewhat drives my efforts. I spend so much time at home — both “at home” at “at the office” that i NEEd to get out on occasion, even if just going to the local coffee shop. 

O am very thankful for the few close friends we have these days. Were it not for them, we might not do anything at all. There is one particular couple we can call spontaneously and, more often than not, they are up to do something — even something small like dinner or just hanging out watching a movie for the evening. I appreciate them more and more every day. They — and others like them — are our family now, being so distant from most of our blog relatives, We have had to develop a “family” of our own over the years and it is a bit depressing to see if getting smaller and smaller. I don’t’ see a way of correcting this trend, o I’ll just have to deal with it, I guess, even if I don’t like it.


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Motivating the unmotivated – End of the Day for September 23, 2014

September 23rd, 2014 Comments off

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We all have those days. You have a lot to do, but are unmotivated to do any of them. One of those caught up with me today, but at least it gives me something to share. The most important thing to do when you have one of these days is do — something. Anything, actually. For me, I finally got my day going by cleaning up all the dishes in the kitchen sink and counter. Once I got moving on this task, it got me moving onto other things. At the end of the day, it was time to cook up some jambalaya for dinner and this gave me another boost too keep me moving through the evening.

I have talked about the importance of inertia before and I don’t think it can be underestimated as a life hack. Get moving, in any direction and you will almost assuredly keep moving onto other tasks. In my case, doing something physical really helped to give me a break where I didn’t mind coming back to the computer when I needed to.

For me, all good productive days are made up of a mix of tasks as well as frequent breaks. These aren’t long breaks, just 5-10 minutes, but they let me come back to a task, or start a new one, refreshed and reinvigorated. Thankfully every day doesn’t require such motivation manipulation, but it is good to have these tools on hand when needed. You can never be sure when you are going to have one of “those” days. 


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My most unlikable trait – End of the Day for September 22, 2014

September 22nd, 2014 Comments off

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 We all have something about us we dislike, be it physical, or in my cases, psychological. I have several issues, but one that bothers me, as much as it probably bothers others is complaining. Yes, i am a complainer. I’ll complain about the heat the noise, the guy who cut me off, the oaf that couldn’t be bothered to park in a space instead of in the driving lane and a hundred other things. I feel a bit like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory sometimes. As that character is written, he is psychologically and physically unable to NOT say things. There are times I feel that same pressure. I know I shouldn’t say something, but it burns within me, bubbles up and simply pours out, not matter how much I might want to, intellectually, keep it in.

I am also “blessed” with a demeanor that shows everything on the surface. If I am upset, it is clear to even those least observant of interpersonal queues. Of course, this then leads to the question, “What’s wrong?” which brings forth the complaints. Ick. I wish I were different sometimes, but I also understand that 50 years has not been a long enough time to change this behavior. I often say that if someone is doing something obnoxious, then there must be some reward in it for them. For me, the only reward I can find is in purging these complaints, and the stress they bring, from my mind and body. I carry stress along with me wherever I go and sometimes the only way to relieve it is to, well, relieve it. I complain. I whine, a bit, even when I know there is no practical solution. In fact, though, I know there is no solution. I just need to relieve the pressure that is inside me.

I harbor a deep-seated belief that living with me can be a big pain in the ass sometimes. Sure, I can fix things, teach things, be empathetic and caring, but to get those good traits you have to put up with all the bad, too.This can make me feel outright guilty sometimes, when I know that I am being troublesome, bothersome, depressed, moody or otherwise. Sometimes the only way i can relieve people of my troublesome side is by putting distance between us, both physical and emotional.

Being as empathetic as I am, I sometimes have to distance myself from disturbing emotions or situations that anger me. I internalize them and, in the worst case, they can burn me internally. I can be dragged “down the rabbit hole” so quickly, so i have come to recognize these potentially damaging situations and avoid them Here is a hint. If you ever see me leave a room during a conversation, and not return immediately, I am in avoidance mode. I am removing myself from the situation because I can start to feel those easily recognized tingles of emotion and fear. Here at home I sometimes have to ask my family to stop discussing a particular topic, if I find that it is upsetting me. Thankfully I can do this in a family environment, but it would be considered unacceptable and even obnoxious in public.

So, I think tonight’s essay falls into the category of self-diagnosis a bit. By writing about things here I try to gain a little bit more understanding of them, if not control over them.


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Endings and beginnings – End of the Day for September 21, 2014

September 21st, 2014 Comments off

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Lots of “endings” this past week. I am hoping that that opens up some new mindshare — as well as a little time — for some new beginnings. While endings can be quite emotional, beginnings can be downright scary. There are so many unknowns when you start something new. What do you NOT know? What are you missing? What don’t you understand completely? Don’t kid yourself. No matter how much research, planning and thinking you may have done, there will still be those things can catch you off-guard without warning — and then make your life REALLY interesting. (LAUGH)

Part of new beginnings is discovering what you want to do next, of course. There are so many possibilities in the world and it can be quite difficult to chose among so many possible futures. For me, I always start with those things that interest me most or seem to fulfill my basic inner desires most. I could work in a thousand different areas, but like everyone, some of these are much less appealing than others. You might as well start with the things you like. Why do something you don’t like, if you have other opportunities?

Douglas E. Welch Speaking at Tuesdays with Transitioners - 05

As always, several of my new beginnings have something to do with education. I like learning new things and i love teaching those things to others who really want to learn. I would have a big trouble teaching people something they are forced to learn, but if they have the desire, I feel that and give as much of myself as possible. This was one big reason why I never taught computer classes for a training company. Having been in some of those classes myself, I understood that most of the people where there because they HAD to be there, not because they WANTED to be there. I found that to be a soul-sucking environment for the instructor and nearly useless for the student. There as to be some desire, some interaction and most mutual interest in learning to be effective.

One interesting, if unpaid, thing I am doing is mentoring some seniors from Joseph’s high school about careers, technology, etc and anything that helps them prepare their required senior presentations. As i  have often said, teaching, explaining or simply discussing something with another person forces your to learn more and better formulate your own ideas, so you can better communicate to them. If you truly want to understand something, try teaching something to others. This process quickly turns up missing knowledge, missing skills and missing thoughts. Even if you are just beginning to learn something, try teaching it to someone else. You will be surprised how well this helps you understand and retain what you are learning.

What new beginnings have entered your life lately? How are you dealing with them? It scan be scary but also, very, very exciting!


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The sociopaths among us – End of the Day for September 20, 2014

September 20th, 2014 Comments off

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One day of driving around Los Angeles is enough to convince even the most loving person that most people in the world have simply stopped caring for anything but themselves. It isn’t just driving, of course. You see it in every event, every day. It ranges from the relatively small annoyances of people parking in the driveway, standing in front of the door you are trying to enter or taking forever to decide their order at Starbucks to the relatively large offenses of lying, cheating stealing and worse. Spend one typical day and you can find yourself wondering, out loud, about the state of humanity.

That is not to say, of course, that any of us are perfect, but for the most part, we try to be the best person we can be. We may cut someone of on the freeway, but we probably feel bad about it. Others don’t feel bad. Heck, they’ll quickly place the blame on you for being in the wrong place, going too slowly or any number of other non-offenses. The truth is, your simple existence annoys them, and there aren’t any easy ways to remedy that. If i make a mistake, I feel bad about, try to rectify it and — even more important — try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Some others can never do this, though, because they don’t even realize they did anything wrong. How scary is that? How frightening is it to be surrounded with thousands of sociopaths who see other people as annoyances, encumbrances or worse. It certainly makes me think twice before shouting at someone in public or otherwise expressing my displeasure with their behavior.

Now, I don’t believe these sociopaths make up any sort of majority in the world, but rather that there actions so annoy us, so offend use, so anger us that they have an outsized effect on our lives. We have to face their anger, their violence, their stupidity as well as our own recriminations when we make a mistake — and even when we make no mistake at all. I know, for me, trying to avoid or deflect this anger — from so many people and so many different angles — rapidly wearies me to the point where I don’t war to deal with anyone for any reason any more. I want to lock myself away rather than spend another minute dealing with their problems.

Identifying the issue, though, yields no easy solution. We seem to be growing more sociopaths with every passing day. There seems no escape from these antisocial, sometime criminal, always offense people who lack any sense of moral responsibility beyond what they want, they need and they desire. I know you have people like that in your life. I sure do in mine. I can’t count anyone close to me as a sociopath, but I seem to meet them on the street, on the bus, behind the wheel, behind the counter and, especially, in positions of power (even minor power) every day.

I am guessing that brighter minds than I might have a place for addressing this issue in society. I started poking around in the research, and while I see many papers acknowledging the increase in sociopathy and its effects, I don’t see many offering any ways of curbing. This is a bit scary when we see such high impacts in your lives and those around us every day.

Articles:


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Organization is so important and so few people have it – End of the Day for September 18. 2014

September 18th, 2014 Comments off

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Let me be the first to say that I am not perfect when it comes to organization. In fact, I think that there are many people better organized than myself. Unfortunately, there are a ton of people much less organized, too. I run into every day. Their disorganization causes a rippled effect on everyone around them. A contractor takes longer than plant because they didn’t pick up the parts (or the right parts), arrives late because they weren’t sure where they were going, has a conflict with another appointment, whatever. Suddenly, their schedule impacts mine in a huge way. What I hate the most, though, is that these people often have no idea the wrench they have thrown into the organizational “works” of everyone around them. They might even curse themselves for being disorganized, but never notice the time and energy they have cost everyone around them.

Yes, unforeseen circumstances come up every day and often through our own organization out of whack, but far more damage is done when we don’t make any attempt to foresee where things might go wrong. Here in LA, traffic is a common excuse for being late or otherwise disorganized. Surely, though, anyone who has lived in LA for more than a week knowns that traffic is bad and subject to sudden changes. This is why I use tools like Waze to keep me informed of any trips I am taking and any traffic that might effect that trip. It really isn’t that hard to do and, even someone who doesn’t want to use technology can and should build din buffers for traffic. Still, so many people don’t and I can say for myself, it frustrates the living daylights out of me. Traffic, along with weather, having gasoline in the car, having money in your pocket and otherwise being prepared are easily foreseen, easily managed, and provide major enhancements to your level of organization. For your own benefit, and everyone around you, please make an effort to foresee and control the things you can, so you only have to deal with the unforeseen.

Treo - Photo-A-Day for Nov, 6, 2006

I could almost understand the levels of disorganization I see if we were still living in the world of paper Filofaxes, calendars, landline telephones and such, but most of us have an amazing organizational tool right in our pockets, if only we would use it. My iPhone 4S (and my Palm III, Handspring Visor, Palm Treo before it) have allowed me to be more organized than I could possible be otherwise. My calendars alone (3-5 shared calendar with Family, Business and Life calendars) would be nearly impossible to manage otherwise, Today, though, I know immediately when Rosanne or Joseph adds or changes something in our calendars and I can react accordingly. Life would be much more difficult without this one tool, Add in all the communications and information features of my phone and I have an amazing tool that helps me be much more productive than I could be otherwise.  If only others would see the power they carry around and put it to use more.

Organizing those things you can foresee and using the tools you have at hand can help you deal with the unforeseen much more gracefully. Do yourself, and everyone, a favor and spend some time organizing so you can better deal with the chaos that is bound to occur.


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Learning how to “Be Water Wise” at the Metropolitan Water District – End of the Day for September 17, 2014

September 17th, 2014 Comments off

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I was invited down to the Metropolitan Water District offices at Union Station today for a blogger event to introduce us to their new BeWaterWise.com web site and conversation advertising campaigns. The web site looks good and has a host of resources for anyone interested in more information about our extreme drought here in California and how the MWD is providing incentives to consumers to save water in a variety of ways.

This includes rebate programs on home fixtures and also funding for lawn removal so that homeowners can replace them with less thirsty, yet still beautiful alternatives. We have had 4 homeowners in our own neighborhood make use of this program alone and we recently replaced both toilets in our home with more modern, lower water usage units and will soon be applying for rebates on those.

I’ll be sharing more from the MWD and BeWaterWise.com in the future, especially via A Gardener’s Notebook, but wanted to share a few pictures from today.

Bewaterwise header

Be Water Wise kickoff 01

Displays of California Friendly® plants for a lawless garden

Be Water Wise Kickoff 02

Be Water Wise Kickoff

Pamela Berstler, Green Gardens Group, presents on the California Friendly® Landscape

Be Water Wise Kickoff 04

em>Bloggers listen to California Friendly® Landscape presentation

A few widgets provides by BeWaterWise.com


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Shedding old things – End of the Day for September 16, 2014

September 16th, 2014 Comments off

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Looking back over the last several months, I have come to think of this as a time of shedding. From getting rid of old cruft around the house to removing a bit o the cruft from my life and mind, we have all been shedding something. Joseph is rapidly shedding his childhood and turning into a young man. Rosanne is shedding one career and blooming into an amazing academic career (along with several other related ones. I still feel that I am mainly still shedding my old life, my old career, my old ideas, my old feelings, but I am not yet sure what I will become in the next few months or years.

Eucalyptus bark

I said it out loud again, after not saying it for a while, but my surgery 2 years ago, while not really life-threatening in any way, knocked me for the biggest loop of my life. While I may have recovered, and improved, physically, mentally I am still a bit of a mess. It set into motion a great many large changes in my life and I am till trying to sort things out. As often happens, I feel stuck only with so many things I don’t want to do, but don’t yet know exactly what I DO want to do with my life. Some days this feels frightening. On other days is feels depressing. On still others it feels filled with untold possibilities. I’m never quite sure what day I am going to wake up to from one moment to the next and often find myself traversing all possible emotions in the course of a day. I can feel quite wearing to live in this way and, honestly, sometimes I just feel — tired.

I can imagine, and sometimes hear, from my family that it drives them a bit crazy, too. Their never sure which “Douglas” they are going to face each day and it adds a bit of conflict to our lives that we really don’t need. Life could certainly be worse in many, many, ways, but you can only face the trouble you have and sometimes they can feel a but overwhelming,  even if others don’t find them that troubling.

One side effect of all this is that I often have to force myself to do things, even if I don’t much feel like doing them. My brain isn’t always the best at choosing what is good for me so ‘fake it till you make it” becomes my modus operendi. Tomorrow  is one of those days. I have been invited to an event at the Metropolitan Water Distract which will provide a bunch of information on the drought for my gardening blog. I know it will be useful, but facing the heat, the transit ride and the return home doesn’t thrill me at all. Still, I know, intellectually, that I need to do this. That dichotomy, that mental battle can defeat me sometimes, as it did with 2 other events this week, but I can only take each day as it comes.

Hopefully, by tomorrow night I’ll have some new content for the blogs and one more successful day under my belt. I’ll let you know.


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End of project blues – End of the Day for September 14, 2014

September 14th, 2014 Comments off

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After spending all day out in the heat for the last 3 days — I am burnt to a crisp. No actually sunburn, but I am whipped. In Italian, on would say distrutto. I feel like I need to spend the next week in an ice bath and sleeping. Another couple days of 100º temps coming but then finally a bit of cooling towards the weekend. It will be most welcome.

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As is always the case at the end of any project, it is time to reflect and wonder what to do next. Whether it is the end of a run with a play, completing a big business project or, as it was today. wrapping the shooting on a student film there can always be a bit of a let down. We used to call it “The Blue Funks” among my school theater friends, but I am sure there are many names for it. You have spent so much  time and focus on a project, it can a bit hard to readjust and re-enter the day-to-day world. Tomorrow will be that day for me as I struggle to get back on track and into my “normal” life again.

Did I learn anything from this experience? Oh yes. I’ll be using it as the source for some upcoming Career Opportunities columns elsewhere here on the blogs. Anything that pulls you out of your routine is a great source of new ideas, new thoughts and new material for all the other projects in your life. You just have to capture those thoughts and ideas so you can put them to use over time. You’ll never be able to use them all at once, so you need to write them down — either handwritten, electronically or both, so you can return to this well of ideas again and again in the coming weeks.

Now that this post is done, it is time to think about what the next step, the next post, the podcast, the next bit of work will be. I have so many options to chose from!

Night all!


Previously on End of the Day:

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