Wednesday, December 19, 2012

For the strong women...

Riding the Loop every morning, I get the opportunity to see some common sites, and then the not so common ones, the brightly colored business men in their expensive suits, the massive amount of life through texting, the strangely adjusted college kids off to their big city jobs – all of us swaying, or just falling, to the movement of the not so smooth Brown Line. We all compete for our little private space on the train, we all want our little uninterrupted corner with no one’s armpit in our face, or ass on our cheek (if you get a seat) – we just want to make it to work, and do our job, and very rarely do we ever say hello or exchange smiles – we just look for that extraordinary sight, knowing that there is something of interest beyond our iPod or iPad or The Red Eye… This morning, and just about every morning and evening commute, I see the strong women boarding the train – the confident mothers carrying loads of groceries and pushing a stroller, the daily workers reading and writing emails, the high powered money brokers talking silently on their phones – all of them focused on the task at hand, not so distracted, some perfectly in order, others in the process of getting there, some, just there – The strong women are there – you see it and sense it in their eyes and the way they hold their shoulders high, and take command of their surroundings – you see the confidence they have- almost an aura of simple ease about them – and most of them are strong women – they move, like the train, along the tracks, but more gracefully, more aware, more ready to change directions when needed to do what needs to be done. Being blessed with a strong mother, sister, partner, makes me take note of all of the strong women. There is some hesitation when I notice them – I know that someone is counting on them, and you can see that they understand the responsibility – they know the price to pay for failure. I am not sure if this is something that women share, their joint responsibility and awareness that they bring life to the world – they can raise and feed their children, they can comfort the tired, they can make sense out of the driving confusion of a testosterone infused conference room. They don’t need to strap on their helmets, their sensibility is that of a cautious predator, and a subtle musician – the work is not work, it is another facet that they accomplish – whether that be parenting, coaching, comforting, leading, or driving the machine of business, and they gracefully attack and make simple work of those things. I cannot speak for all men, only this one, and I envy that ability to put the process in context. Perhaps that is something that the responsibility of motherhood creates, or something that the way men are raised or built or chemically made up, that separates us from them. There is grace in their actions and words. There is spirit in their touch and approach. There is fire in their eyes. There is soul in their embrace. They are the strong women. No matter what. They approach the diaper changes and mass layoffs with a vision, and for them, I am grateful, because there is comfort in their presence. Until next time… G

Monday, December 17, 2012

Managing backwards...

Winter in Chicago is probably not the best time to start dreaming of a vacation in the Bahamas, in fact, it is probably the worst time to start dreaming of anything, with the exception of making through the winter. Every step of my walk to the elevated stop at Damen is usually magically transformed into a step closer to making it to a heated train car, making it to the CVS for some gum and cigarettes, making it to the coffee shop where the barista doesn’t know my name, but knows I travel back and forth to Seattle or Florida at every chance I get. I always wanted to try the big city, and always thought that I would make it in the big city – and making it has different levels of complexity and accomplishment – but right now, that’s about the extent of what I am doing – I am making it because that’s all I really have as an option right now. Having a fourteen year old son puts things in perspective. Having a fourteen year old brain makes that even closer to the truth. Outwardly, folks would think that I am living the dream, and if I could see through my somewhat distorted lenses, I probably would think the same thing. Unfortunately, clarity of vision was never really one of my strong points – it was more or less a challenge to manage myself effectively enough to make forward progress without inevitably cracking under the weight of my past decisions. I constantly reinforce that to my son – but have a difficult time reinforcing to myself that those decisions are no longer there – they have been made, the actions have been done, and that I should not make those again. I make them again – just like a crackhead to a pipe – you can bet that odds are I am going to choose to not manage forwards, and manage backwards. Self help books are not useful when you don’t pay attention to what you read – neither or doctors, or counselors, or programs, or thinking about it – none of those are any good unless you actually choose to manage things around you. It’s really easy to give up – exceptionally easy to give up – trust me on that one – I have always found a way to give up, and just manage from crisis to crisis – instead of taking the route of the most resistance – and managing the way I look forward. There are beautiful things about Chicago – where I live, it is a quiet street, not too busy, with single family homes – they are decorated in the seasonal finery – summer decorations for summer, Chicago Bears flags on Sunday, Christmas lights shortly after Thanksgiving. There is a little grocery down the street where they know I want milk and two packs of cigarettes, there is Bobbie’s Runaway on the corner where I know I can go to hide, and not be a part of anything other than a cold Miller beer and some conversation about the weather – there are a million things to do, and a million places to see, and a world of history at every stop on the Brown Line. The truth is that Chicago is an open and friendly city – and as much as I try to take advantage of it, I also seem to be falling behind on taking advantage of it. I get plenty of time to think about it – and plenty of time to do something about it – but so far – not so good. Until next time.