ordinary miracles of San Jose
Hello everybody! A lot of things on my mind today, as usual. I wanted to follow up on my blog from last week (check it out if you didn't get a chance to yet), by zeroing in on point number five on the Heart Feeling List. As a refresher, the essence of point number five was "make an effort to look for one good thing in your day every day." I really and truly made an attempt this week to do that, and I think it helped my heart. It's an incredibly healthy practice that I want to keep doing, simply because it helps with perspective and presence.
You see, I am a planner. Not just a regular, "I'm pretty organized and have good time management," but a planner. To the extent that nearly every minute is scheduled in my brain to ensure that not a single moment is wasted. It is for this reason that I have an extremely hard time relaxing or ceasing to be productive when I know there is something left to accomplish or check-off my list. My thoughts are constantly running, trying to deduce the most efficient and the most pleasurable way to get everything completed. To give you an idea of the way my thoughts travel on a daily basis every day, here are my thought processes from last night:
"Okay so I'll wake up at 7-no 7:30-no 7 so that way I have time to run and get back at 7:30 and then I won't shower because I showered yesterday but in that case if I don't shower I can wake up at 7:30- I'll get back at 8 and then I'll eat oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow because I had Honey Bunches yesterday and I need to eat that banana or maybe I should have toast because my bread is going to go bad- no I'll eat oatmeal- then I can make it out the door by 8:30, well it'll probably be more like 9, and I'll get to the coffee shop by 9:30 which will give me a good two hours to blog and maybe I'll just tell them I'll be late so I have a few extra minutes to write and I shouldn't get a croissant but I'll probably get one anyways but it's hard because I don't know what I'm having for lunch so I can't plan accordingly with breakfast...."
And, because that was just really fun, here’s an excerpt from a typical day at college:
"okay two hours of piano, then I'll stop by Sam's and get a tea because I can't keep my eyes open, then class for an hour and a half and then- oh shoot I forgot to bring exercise clothes, DARN IT- I'll have to race back to my room and change and- oh Mom is calling me- okay so now I have to practice an extra half hour because that took longer than I thought, wait so I'll go exercise and then go to Workout- thank God Workout is today, and then I think it's Mac and Cheese for dinner so that will be great and I'm so glad I had a salad for lunch- and then that will give me like thirty minutes to do homework before rehearsal which is not enough time, I should've woken up earlier when my alarm actually went off..."
and so on, literally not stopping until my head hit the pillow.The minute I complete one task, it's on to the next thing, making sure it all gets in. I've been doing this since middle school, so if plans get changed, it's not a giant deal because the running schedule shifts and re-arranges like clockwork, allowing for the change and (usually) still fitting everything in nicely. (Minus the one time I had a panic attack at a rehearsal for my high school’s production of Mary Poppins- see photo- because I was called when I didn’t need to be and sat, unproductive, for three full hours and promptly burst into tears). This is why if you are one of the saints who lets me verbal process to you, I love you because being able to vocalize my plans out loud is incredibly helpful to the calm the cacophony always and eternally running through my head. This is also why I lose my belongings every minute because there is just no room in there for keeping track of my stupid water bottle! Thus, routine is really helpful for me in being present, because when my brain can rest assured of the way the day is going, I have more space for actually looking at and hearing what's around me.
The problem? When you move states, your routine goes straight down the drain. And it's okay for a little while, because you just keep telling yourself "it's okay- we are in transition" but then you slowly, wobblingly, must try to assemble a new routine. I'm in that time right now, and it's exhausting. I sat down outside church yesterday- thirty minutes early, which is infuriating because that's thirty minutes of wasted time- and attempted to journal. It ended up being just a lot of random sentences about how my chest felt all fluttery, and how weekends are stressful, etc. And then I realized my jaw. Was so tight. I had been clenching my jaw all day long as I buzzed around, checking things off my list like the Productive Mad Woman of San Jose.
But then! After this very weird vomit journal that made no sense, the pastor preached on being present in the season of life you are in. About not wishing you were in a different season, about being present by not living in the past and not constantly planning the future, but being exactly in the season God has placed you in. Contentment and patience, my two struggles, and being in the season where I ought to be. Which all felt very apropos, given my tight jaw and sprinting brain and fluttery chest.
In Workout, we talked a lot about being present, because it's just about impossible to act if you are mentally somewhere else. The sermon reminded me of something my professor used to say: "sometimes you get to Workout and you haven't taken a real breath all day." This was nearly always true of me. Eventually, I improved significantly in my ability to slow down and breathe, to be "in the room" as we called it, fully present and centered. But since being in San Jose and out of routine and not-yet-comfortable, I've kind of lost that ability to take a real breath, to cease for a moment, to let down and be.
Back to what I said at the beginning about Point Number Five on the Heart Feelings List. Although I'm not going to list out for you the good thing in every day, I am yet again going to make another list. An Ordinary Miracles of San Jose list. Three things about this list: First, the whole "Ordinary Miracles" title comes from the song by Sarah McLachlan I LOVE by the same title that I heard on the Charlotte's Web live action soundtrack. I used to sing it at age eleven or twelve (?) as I cleaned my room, and the whole idea has really stuck. Second, I was reading a blog newsletter written by two fellow-Workout-grad-women (http://www.synchronized-swim.com, they're great! look 'em up!) and they ended with a list of "things they love this month," which got me thinking about the same idea. Third, thinking of the One Good Thing reminded me of a self-portrait project I did in my directing class a year ago. I created a five minute theater piece that was to represent the essence of who I was (am) as a person, and for a portion of the project, I listed out what I called ten of my favorite "ordinary miracles" that I pulled from a list I had in the back of my journal- a long list entitled "Things I Love in Life." I remember that project fondly, and it's one of my favorite things I've ever made.
SO! I present to you this week, my Ordinary Miracle list. An attempt to breathe, an attempt to slow down, an attempt to be present in the new place I am, despite the lack of routine. I've started the list with some of the miracles I had in my project, and then the following are things I've been loving/thinking about/noticing since being in San Jose. Many of my lists I write in my journal (and believe me I have a LOT) include the subtitle, "to be added to." Because as you look, more and more seem to come.
ORDINARY MIRACLES OF SAN JOSE: (to be added to)
The poem “No Coward Soul is Mine” by Emily Bronte
Making jokes at the same time as my dad
Driving in the rain
The way milk looks when you pour it in your tea
The way washcloths feel on your fingers when you get them wet
Sunsets that stretch all the way around the sky
Coffee smell that reminds me of my grandma
Laying on my back and looking at the lights before doing a play
The tingly feeling when you move your fingers and toes after they’ve been still
How you can smell the ground after the snow melts
The way Mom says “oh for my word”
The breeze that blows in my window and over my face when I lay in bed
The way the grey sky breaks up and the blue sky peeks in every morning
An invitation to a movie that feel like an answered prayer
A new love of classical music, specifically piano concertos, Tchaikovsky 6, and the Bach cello suites
Driving on the free-of-traffic back roads to work that feel like a secret passage way
Smiles, eye contact, and willingness to connect from a student
The middle berm on the highways that is covered in bright flowers and trees
My yoga instructor who genuinely thanked me for coming to class and asked to know my name
Fresh peaches off the tree in the backyard
Harry Potter audiobooks narrating my drive to work
The weird and lovely process that is making new friends (you just… pick a person and decide they will be your friend!)
Wearing my own clothes that make me feel beautiful and like myself
Mary Oliver’s ability to write poems that encapsulate exactly how I feel
Bible verses that I’ve heard a million times that suddenly mean something (more on that later)
Everyday rituals like putting on lipstick that remind me of old acting work and being brave
The way the California sun is hot but the air is still cool and refreshing
Walking through the high school campus and feeling grown and purposeful
Getting mail!
The hummingbird that drinks nectar from the flowers in the front yard each night at dinner
And more to come. Bless you all, friends. I wish you lots of breath and loose jaws, and I miss you today and every day.
-Alyssa