I sit here and wonder why I'm here. Not purpose. Just an answer. I see people dying, crying, laughing, and living. I wonder if I'm part of a problem or part of a solution.
I'm living, I think. But I see sadness around me. I can't fix it. I'm not sure I want to. The feeling pulls me under like a drowning person.
I'm having fun, I think. But I see others having fun and it looks nothing like mine. And I wonder when did I stop wanting to do those little things. The ones where we would go for a walk with no destination.
There was freedom in that life.
I'm free, I think. But I look at all the work I have to do and wonder if it matters. Others get their work done and still seem free.
I'm richer for it, I think. But I look at my bank account and it doesn't make me laugh or smile. It lacks the memories I yearn.
I'm tired, I think. But I take a long nap and I still feel the same.
This hallowness that I try to avoid appears on my wife's face when she smiles.
I'm a disappointment I think. But mom calls and tells me I'm smart and awesome.
Thank god for moms.
Friday, January 18, 2019
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
Rendezvous points, stashed cache, mission impossible.
As they left the hotel, Mommy punched in the coordinates of the destination into her phone. It was 8:40 and the meeting was scheduled for 9:15.
Umm, the GPS is saying we're 28 minutes away. Not including finding a parking spot and traffic. I thought you said we were 15 minutes from the rendezvous point.
Oh, oh. We may miss this meeting. We've hit stop-and-go morning traffic. Are you sure we're going the right way?
That's what the phone is saying. If we miss the contact, we'll have to reschedule, which means our 2.5 hour drive last night was for nothing.
I know. I know. It doesn't seem like we're going the right way. Damn this traffic.
You need to get in the middle lane. We only have 15 minutes to get there and the GPS says we're still 26 minutes away.
What? We've been driving for 20 minutes and we've only gone 2 minutes according to the phone?
Um, yeah. You need to get in the middle lane.
It's too late! I can't get in the middle lane. I'm forced to go right.
But you need to get in the middle lane.
Fuck the middle lane, I'm going right.
Where are you going? You can't do a U-turn here?
I just did. (As the tires squawk a little).
Where are you going?
I'm going the way I know how to get there.
We're going to miss the meeting.
As the van screeches through lights, turns and traffic, the quiet family arrives at the rendezvous point at 9:18.
Get out, get out. Go to the rendezvous point. I'll find a parking spot and join you afterwards.
Which building is it?
That one right there.
Which building is it?
That one right there.
It doesn't look like the right building.
It's that building right there. I remember from the last time we were here. I gotta go. Get out. Get out. I'll meet you upstairs.
Ok, kids. It's time to get out.
Where are we?
It doesn't matter. You have to get out while daddy parks the van.
Get out. Get out. Go. Go. Go.
The van darts away from mommy and two confused kids. Daddy finds a parking garage next door to the rendezvous point. He parks the car on the sixth floor. Goes to the elevator and pushes the third floor to the Pedway. He walks 300 metres on the maze of over street walkways to arrive at the rendezvous building. The meeting is on the ninth floor.
The ninth floor has marble from floor to ceiling. Right at the entrance to a windowless door is mommy and the two kids.
I'm sorry I told you the wrong building.
I know. Did you bring your cell phone?
Umm, yes. Can't we bring it in?
No. Can you go back to the car and bring my phone too?
I don't think I have a choice.
No, you don't. We're not allowed cell phones in here.
Ok. Give it to me.
Daddy goes back to the elevator down to the 2nd floor. For some reason, this building's second floor connects to the Pedway on the same level as the parking garage's third floor. He walks 300 metres to the parking garage. Goes up the elevator to the sixth floor and walks to the van. Upon arriving at the van, he stashes two cell phones. He wonders if cell phones aren't allowed, maybe his Fitbit won't be allowed too. So instead of taking the chance, he takes off the Fitbit and stashes it with the phones. He walks to the elevator, goes down to the third floor, walks 300 metres on the Pedway, takes the elevator of the building next door to the ninth floor. He gets out on the marble cavern and rings the doorbell. Instead of the security guard, his wife pokes her head out the door with a sly smile.
Do you still have your Fitbit on?
No.
Oh. They don't allow them either. Can you bring mine back to the van?
I don't think I have a choice. Give it to me.
Mommy's Fitbit comes in two pieces. One piece is a rubber band. The other is like a little microchip. Daddy contemplates hiding it instead of going back to the van? There's a plant there. Could he hide it in the plant? Daddy decides the risk isn't worth it, so he enters the elevator, goes down to the second floor, walks 300 metres in the Pedway, goes up to the sixth floor at the parking garage, walks to the van and places mommy's fitbit in the same place as the other stashed electronic gear. He locks the door and walks 50 metres before he thinks to himself. Maybe the automatic car lock won't get past security. He walks back to the van, removes the key from the chain, takes off electronic car starters, door locks and adds it to his cached stash. He walks back to the elevator, goes down to the third floor, walks 300 metres in the Pedway, goes up to the ninth floor into the marble cavern and rings the doorbell. A young man who probably doesn't have public hair comes out. He asks Daddy to empty his pockets. He's passed the first level of screening, now he has to go through a metal detector.
Empty your pockets into this tray.
Ok.
What is this? As the pubic hairless security guard gives Daddy the stink-eye.
Umm. Chapstick.
We don't allow that here. You'll have to bring it back to your vehicle.
You're not kidding are you? Daddy doesn't have his Fitbit and he's not willing to do more steps for nothing. Everyone knows chapstick has been used to infiltrate customs in communist China. So no wonder, it's on the banned list of this low level secure office.
The only other option is to throw it out. There's a bathroom in the hallway. Take a left when you leave this room. The bathroom is on the right a few doors down.
Ok.
Daddy's friend gave him this lip balm. She makes the stuff and although not nearly as expensive as a Fitbit, Daddy is willing to lose it. But the cheap side of him doesn't want to throw out a perfectly good stick of balm. There's always the plant he could hide it in. But, wait a minute. What about the bathroom. Michael Coreleone hid a gun in a bathroom. Could Daddy sneak a stick of lip balm in the bathroom fit for Ethan Hunt from Mission Impossible? He opens the door. Then realizes, it's a bathroom. Not many worthy hiding places in a public bathroom of the ninth floor of this government building. Especially not something you'd want your lips on.But wait. The counter is made of metal. Is there a lip under the counter? Daddy runs his hand under the counter and finds the metal has an inch of extra coverage perfect for storing small things like Fitbits and lip balms. No one will ever find or see this while at the rendezvous, he says to himself.
After stashing his contraband, he swaggers back to the door with the buzzer. The young buck with a bully club opens the door, pleased to hear the illegal item has been discarded.
Come on in.
Beep.
Are you wearing a belt?
Yes.
Could you please take it off?
As if Daddy had a choice. He takes it off and places it on the conveyor belt.
Alright, come on through.
Beep.
Oh, shoot, the shoes, says the baby faced man child, shaking off his mistake pretending to know what he's doing.
Do I just take them off and put them on the conveyor as well?
Yes.
As Daddy goes through the metal detector, he notices two things. The young security guard has perfectly shiny shoes and his bully club has hockey tape on the handle partially worn out. Does he practice swinging this club on his mom or has he used this equalizing stick on contraband carrying daddy's with lip balm?
You're good to go. Pick up your things at the other end of the metal detector.
Thank you.
It's 10:15 am. A good hour after the rendezvous. The meeting was conducted under normal conditions with no awkward "you're late" stares. After the meeting, Daddy scooted into the washroom, ran his hand under the sink and found his perfectly in tact Eclair Lip Balm. The cache was retrieved. And another impossible mission was completed. No one died, as usual. But if looks could kill, Mommy would have to answer some questions.
Umm, the GPS is saying we're 28 minutes away. Not including finding a parking spot and traffic. I thought you said we were 15 minutes from the rendezvous point.
Oh, oh. We may miss this meeting. We've hit stop-and-go morning traffic. Are you sure we're going the right way?
That's what the phone is saying. If we miss the contact, we'll have to reschedule, which means our 2.5 hour drive last night was for nothing.
I know. I know. It doesn't seem like we're going the right way. Damn this traffic.
You need to get in the middle lane. We only have 15 minutes to get there and the GPS says we're still 26 minutes away.
What? We've been driving for 20 minutes and we've only gone 2 minutes according to the phone?
Um, yeah. You need to get in the middle lane.
It's too late! I can't get in the middle lane. I'm forced to go right.
But you need to get in the middle lane.
Fuck the middle lane, I'm going right.
Where are you going? You can't do a U-turn here?
I just did. (As the tires squawk a little).
Where are you going?
I'm going the way I know how to get there.
We're going to miss the meeting.
As the van screeches through lights, turns and traffic, the quiet family arrives at the rendezvous point at 9:18.
Get out, get out. Go to the rendezvous point. I'll find a parking spot and join you afterwards.
Which building is it?
That one right there.
Which building is it?
That one right there.
It doesn't look like the right building.
It's that building right there. I remember from the last time we were here. I gotta go. Get out. Get out. I'll meet you upstairs.
Ok, kids. It's time to get out.
Where are we?
It doesn't matter. You have to get out while daddy parks the van.
Get out. Get out. Go. Go. Go.
The van darts away from mommy and two confused kids. Daddy finds a parking garage next door to the rendezvous point. He parks the car on the sixth floor. Goes to the elevator and pushes the third floor to the Pedway. He walks 300 metres on the maze of over street walkways to arrive at the rendezvous building. The meeting is on the ninth floor.
The ninth floor has marble from floor to ceiling. Right at the entrance to a windowless door is mommy and the two kids.
I'm sorry I told you the wrong building.
I know. Did you bring your cell phone?
Umm, yes. Can't we bring it in?
No. Can you go back to the car and bring my phone too?
I don't think I have a choice.
No, you don't. We're not allowed cell phones in here.
Ok. Give it to me.
Daddy goes back to the elevator down to the 2nd floor. For some reason, this building's second floor connects to the Pedway on the same level as the parking garage's third floor. He walks 300 metres to the parking garage. Goes up the elevator to the sixth floor and walks to the van. Upon arriving at the van, he stashes two cell phones. He wonders if cell phones aren't allowed, maybe his Fitbit won't be allowed too. So instead of taking the chance, he takes off the Fitbit and stashes it with the phones. He walks to the elevator, goes down to the third floor, walks 300 metres on the Pedway, takes the elevator of the building next door to the ninth floor. He gets out on the marble cavern and rings the doorbell. Instead of the security guard, his wife pokes her head out the door with a sly smile.
Do you still have your Fitbit on?
No.
Oh. They don't allow them either. Can you bring mine back to the van?
I don't think I have a choice. Give it to me.
Mommy's Fitbit comes in two pieces. One piece is a rubber band. The other is like a little microchip. Daddy contemplates hiding it instead of going back to the van? There's a plant there. Could he hide it in the plant? Daddy decides the risk isn't worth it, so he enters the elevator, goes down to the second floor, walks 300 metres in the Pedway, goes up to the sixth floor at the parking garage, walks to the van and places mommy's fitbit in the same place as the other stashed electronic gear. He locks the door and walks 50 metres before he thinks to himself. Maybe the automatic car lock won't get past security. He walks back to the van, removes the key from the chain, takes off electronic car starters, door locks and adds it to his cached stash. He walks back to the elevator, goes down to the third floor, walks 300 metres in the Pedway, goes up to the ninth floor into the marble cavern and rings the doorbell. A young man who probably doesn't have public hair comes out. He asks Daddy to empty his pockets. He's passed the first level of screening, now he has to go through a metal detector.
Empty your pockets into this tray.
Ok.
What is this? As the pubic hairless security guard gives Daddy the stink-eye.
Umm. Chapstick.
We don't allow that here. You'll have to bring it back to your vehicle.
You're not kidding are you? Daddy doesn't have his Fitbit and he's not willing to do more steps for nothing. Everyone knows chapstick has been used to infiltrate customs in communist China. So no wonder, it's on the banned list of this low level secure office.
The only other option is to throw it out. There's a bathroom in the hallway. Take a left when you leave this room. The bathroom is on the right a few doors down.
Ok.
Daddy's friend gave him this lip balm. She makes the stuff and although not nearly as expensive as a Fitbit, Daddy is willing to lose it. But the cheap side of him doesn't want to throw out a perfectly good stick of balm. There's always the plant he could hide it in. But, wait a minute. What about the bathroom. Michael Coreleone hid a gun in a bathroom. Could Daddy sneak a stick of lip balm in the bathroom fit for Ethan Hunt from Mission Impossible? He opens the door. Then realizes, it's a bathroom. Not many worthy hiding places in a public bathroom of the ninth floor of this government building. Especially not something you'd want your lips on.But wait. The counter is made of metal. Is there a lip under the counter? Daddy runs his hand under the counter and finds the metal has an inch of extra coverage perfect for storing small things like Fitbits and lip balms. No one will ever find or see this while at the rendezvous, he says to himself.
After stashing his contraband, he swaggers back to the door with the buzzer. The young buck with a bully club opens the door, pleased to hear the illegal item has been discarded.
Come on in.
Beep.
Are you wearing a belt?
Yes.
Could you please take it off?
As if Daddy had a choice. He takes it off and places it on the conveyor belt.
Alright, come on through.
Beep.
Oh, shoot, the shoes, says the baby faced man child, shaking off his mistake pretending to know what he's doing.
Do I just take them off and put them on the conveyor as well?
Yes.
As Daddy goes through the metal detector, he notices two things. The young security guard has perfectly shiny shoes and his bully club has hockey tape on the handle partially worn out. Does he practice swinging this club on his mom or has he used this equalizing stick on contraband carrying daddy's with lip balm?
You're good to go. Pick up your things at the other end of the metal detector.
Thank you.
It's 10:15 am. A good hour after the rendezvous. The meeting was conducted under normal conditions with no awkward "you're late" stares. After the meeting, Daddy scooted into the washroom, ran his hand under the sink and found his perfectly in tact Eclair Lip Balm. The cache was retrieved. And another impossible mission was completed. No one died, as usual. But if looks could kill, Mommy would have to answer some questions.
Friday, January 11, 2019
Souls, stress and searching for answers
Hey how are you doing?
What a coincidence? I was just thinking about you yesterday. Sorry, let me stop the book I'm listening too.
What book are you listening to?
Journey of Souls by Michael Newton.
What's it about?
It's actually about interviews with clients under hypnosis who talk about their previous lives.
That sounds kind of odd. You're not listening to a business book?
I don't just listen to books to learn about business. I try to learn about life and some series of unanswered questions. I'm trying to look at business from a different angle. It's giving me a different perspective.
What's it got to do with business?
Answers to problems can come from the oddest of places. I believe if I stay well rounded, it will help me with my search of those solutions.
Oh. I never thought of books that way.
How are things with you?
Very good. Our business doubled in the last year. I have employees now and I'm working non-stop.
Are you happy where things are going?
Umm. Yeah.
Doesn't sound convincing.
Well. It's stressful with all these people I'm responsible for. I have to always find them work and there isn't enough work sometimes.
Oh. Well are you more profitable this year than you were last year?
Probably not.
Right. I understand the stress. But are you doing what you want?
What do you mean?
In your day to day routine, are you doing what you want or are you doing things you don't want?
I refuse to work 16 hour days. But there are days I have to do a bunch of paperwork and put invoices into the accounting software.
Are you aware that bookkeepers are not that expensive?
Yes, but the problem is to find a good one. I've had a few and they have never worked out.
I understand. But just because you haven't found a good one shouldn't mean you should stop looking for one.
And then I have another person to pay...
Yes, and you remove some of the stress and to do's off your list.How do you manage your stress?
Um, ah. I just work through it.
I've been stressed and coping is not easy when you're in the middle of the stress storm. However, when things calm down a bit, my advice is to remove yourself from the problem. If it was my problem, you wouldn't get stressed out.
No, not at all. Because I wouldn't own it.
Exactly, and right now you own the stress. What if you could decide that you do not own the stress, just like you don't own mine?
I can't. I have roles and responsibilities. I do own it.
I know. But did you ever think that you allow yourself to own it?
I can't help but think about the worries everyday.
Check your thinking on this. I get stressed all the time. My easiest way to reduce it is to burn it off on the treadmill. The physical stress of running overwhelms the mental stress.
Doesn't it come back?
Yes, but it feels lighter when it does. I'm no psychologist but I believe mental stress is caused by fear. And as long as I'm afraid of something, the stress keeps popping its ugly head up. Until I deal with that fear, I can't completely remove the stress. I've closed, sold and started businesses because I wanted to relieve the fear.
What would you be afraid of?
I'm afraid all the time. Probably the same types of things you're afraid of maybe on a lesser degree. Let me share something that helps me. Most things we're afraid of will never happen. Wherever your fear lies is where stress is nesting. Ask yourself if you'd be ok if your fear was realized. If the answer is no, then you should stop doing what you're doing. It's not worth the consequences. If the answer is yes. Then no matter what happens, you'll be ok. If you will be ok, then keep going and stop worrying.
That makes a lot of sense. I have to go. I'll let you know how it goes.
Great. Good luck. Keep your head up. I hope you can realize your greatness as easily as I see it in you.
I'm glad I ran into you today.
Me too.
What a coincidence? I was just thinking about you yesterday. Sorry, let me stop the book I'm listening too.
What book are you listening to?
Journey of Souls by Michael Newton.
What's it about?
It's actually about interviews with clients under hypnosis who talk about their previous lives.
That sounds kind of odd. You're not listening to a business book?
I don't just listen to books to learn about business. I try to learn about life and some series of unanswered questions. I'm trying to look at business from a different angle. It's giving me a different perspective.
What's it got to do with business?
Answers to problems can come from the oddest of places. I believe if I stay well rounded, it will help me with my search of those solutions.
Oh. I never thought of books that way.
How are things with you?
Very good. Our business doubled in the last year. I have employees now and I'm working non-stop.
Are you happy where things are going?
Umm. Yeah.
Doesn't sound convincing.
Well. It's stressful with all these people I'm responsible for. I have to always find them work and there isn't enough work sometimes.
Oh. Well are you more profitable this year than you were last year?
Probably not.
Right. I understand the stress. But are you doing what you want?
What do you mean?
In your day to day routine, are you doing what you want or are you doing things you don't want?
I refuse to work 16 hour days. But there are days I have to do a bunch of paperwork and put invoices into the accounting software.
Are you aware that bookkeepers are not that expensive?
Yes, but the problem is to find a good one. I've had a few and they have never worked out.
I understand. But just because you haven't found a good one shouldn't mean you should stop looking for one.
And then I have another person to pay...
Yes, and you remove some of the stress and to do's off your list.How do you manage your stress?
Um, ah. I just work through it.
I've been stressed and coping is not easy when you're in the middle of the stress storm. However, when things calm down a bit, my advice is to remove yourself from the problem. If it was my problem, you wouldn't get stressed out.
No, not at all. Because I wouldn't own it.
Exactly, and right now you own the stress. What if you could decide that you do not own the stress, just like you don't own mine?
I can't. I have roles and responsibilities. I do own it.
I know. But did you ever think that you allow yourself to own it?
I can't help but think about the worries everyday.
Check your thinking on this. I get stressed all the time. My easiest way to reduce it is to burn it off on the treadmill. The physical stress of running overwhelms the mental stress.
Doesn't it come back?
Yes, but it feels lighter when it does. I'm no psychologist but I believe mental stress is caused by fear. And as long as I'm afraid of something, the stress keeps popping its ugly head up. Until I deal with that fear, I can't completely remove the stress. I've closed, sold and started businesses because I wanted to relieve the fear.
What would you be afraid of?
I'm afraid all the time. Probably the same types of things you're afraid of maybe on a lesser degree. Let me share something that helps me. Most things we're afraid of will never happen. Wherever your fear lies is where stress is nesting. Ask yourself if you'd be ok if your fear was realized. If the answer is no, then you should stop doing what you're doing. It's not worth the consequences. If the answer is yes. Then no matter what happens, you'll be ok. If you will be ok, then keep going and stop worrying.
That makes a lot of sense. I have to go. I'll let you know how it goes.
Great. Good luck. Keep your head up. I hope you can realize your greatness as easily as I see it in you.
I'm glad I ran into you today.
Me too.
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