US Open: Prologue

I'm about to embark on an adventure which I suspect will be made more enjoyable by the work I've been doing: two days at the tennis US Open, my first time watching live, professional tennis.

I have no expectations. I've had a non-attached perspective to this trip, which was made evident when other people started telling/asking me about how excited I am about it. I hadn't really been thinking about it that much, which has allowed me to avoid the unpleasant limbo of not being in the present because I'm focused on what is to come, and enjoy a more even-keel mood. Since I don't really have an expectation, I expect that I will "go with the flow."

I am confident. Three words: New York subway. (First time on my own.)

I am self-reliant. This entire trip is my decision. Not to downplay the support I've received from friends, it would be entirely different without it. But nonetheless, I saw an opportunity to do something I wanted to do and I'm doing it. It's not a big deal, but I need to recognize that my decision to do this was completely independent from anyone else. No one asked me to go; I'm not going for anyone but myself. AND, I need to recognize that this is separate from how the trip actually turns out. There was a time that, if I took a trip like this and didn't enjoy myself, I would blame that outcome on the fact that I did it independently from others, and therefore shouldn't do it again.

I will enjoy the moment. A break from my "self-work," to be, and do.

I am doing this for me. I play tennis because it's fun. Not because I have a specific goal or feel any obligation. I enjoy watching tennis, but of course, it's not quite as fun as playing. ;) There was a time when I thought, "oh, I shouldn't go to a tennis tournament because I don't belong there. I don't know enough history of the sport, I don't know many of the players, and I'm not a good enough player, myself." But then I realized, I go to football games. I don't play football, and I don't even enjoy watching it all that much. My (il)logic broke down pretty quickly at that point.

As I may have eluded to before, tennis is the first sport I've enjoyed. Having only started a year ago, I may have "found my sport" later than most people. So what? From my perspective, tennis is my sport. Just because I don't have a long history with it doesn't mean I should downplay my enthusiasm or suppress any sense of belonging. However, it also doesn't necessarily mean that there is some connection to all other tennis fans. Which I state only to exemplify another generalization that's bad to make, not to point out a false motivating factor.

Delicious Defeat

Being new to a sport I care about, nothing could have prepared me for the unexpected outcome of a competition. Experience is everything.

I was challenged to play a set of tennis, and lost 6-1. Although I would have liked to win, it wasn't a big deal for me because I didn't really have anything to lose. But the effect of losing so badly was one of the most emotionally confounding I've ever experienced. In fact, two days later, I'm still not sure how it's going to affect my outlook.

Is it time to set a goal? This can motivate my continued improvement, which will provide more enjoyment the better I play.

Should I just give up? I'm well past my prime, and there will be a limit to how well I can play. If it's not good enough, there's no reason to continue.

Or should I just linger somewhere in between, hitting a ball around with the couple of people who would do so? As with all things, this arrangement will come to an end, so I should enjoy it while I can.

I guess time will tell because the answer will only come after taking things day-by-day. I'll just go with the flow and play if I want, when I can. Now that I've had a small taste of the bad stuff, I'm more experienced than I was, for whatever that's worth.

My Blog's New Look

I've further customized my blog which basically entailed picking a different Blogger template and replacing some images. And I needed help doing it, so I can't take all the credit. But, it looks more like I want it to, and that's what's important. I hope you like it, too. :)

On the Path to Happiness

This is a living post that will be updated and linked as appropriate.

Current goals

• Lessen the emotional (especially negative) effect others have on me
• Maintain a more steady, even-keel emotional state
• Be more self-reliant

Realizations

• People can be fundamentally VERY different.
• Comparing myself to others is detrimental.
• Rejection isn’t always rejection.
• I’m responsible for my own happiness.
• Just because something is socially expected, that doesn’t mean it’s the best thing for me.

Processes

• Self-acceptance
• Grief of loss
• Non-attachment

Accomplishments

• Stopped seeking parental approval
• Leaned to embrace imperfection

It Just Might Work

Over the last few years, I’ve studied the Enneagram in an effort to learn more about myself and my interactions with others, because I believe that what I learn will help me become a happier person. I have also sporadically kept this blog for over a year, and today it dawned on me that it’s the most logical venue to chronicle my growth, going forward.

Relevant bits:

• Grew up as an only child in a rural area.
• Enneagram type, instictual variant, level of health: 1w2, sx/so/sp, many days 3-4
• Parents’ Etype: Mom – 9; Dad – 8
• Husband’s type: 9 (wings are close; suspect more 8 than 1)
• MBTI: mostly ISFJ
  

Disclaimer: I will attempt to keep things as relevant as possible without implicating other people. It is never my intent to offend or hurt anyone. Also, nothing should be “read into” anything.

Test Ride

I went on a 24-mile bike ride yesterday and I'm not ashamed to admit that I only made it all the way back on sheer will. My legs haven't been that tired in a long time, but I'm happy I did it. My longest ride before yesterday was 16 miles. I was interested in riding my bicycle to work once in a while, so this was also a "test ride," to determine whether the roads and trails I chose would be suitable.

Overall, it was a pleasant ride, the temperature was about 84 on the way out, and got down to 77 when I got back. It was starting to get dark and although out on the open road it wasn’t so bad, it was a little too dark in the shade to see well. I enjoyed sensing the sudden fluctuations in temperature as I ride through downdrafts, and the smell of different trees and plants was refreshing. Riding at sundown was a treat because I saw and heard things I wouldn’t have earlier in the day. In the last sliver of sunlight I saw numerous near-horizontal spider webs expertly spanning the distance between trees, like ephemeral hammocks. Frogs and crickets began their music to which the flights of fireflies seemed choreographed.

One

Obsession Calm
Frustration Peace
Longing Bliss
Sorrow Forgiveness
Pressure Freedom

Dæmon

I'm really looking forward to this movie. I'm glad they're keeping the dæmons. :)

Click on the link in the animation to give me your opinion of me. (It's anonymous, quick, and you don't have to register or anything.) Check out the website if you want to get your own.

A friend shared this story of the name Arion.

I bought tennis shoes

A friend’s enthusiasm, a coincidence, and whim serendipitously merged into a moment that would bring happiness that I couldn’t have suspected. Having swatted at a fuzzy ball only a few times in my life, I lacked the basic knowledge of the game of tennis, therefore any real interest. Just recently, someone defined tennis as a game where two people hit a ball back and forth until someone misses, and although I cannot accept that as even the most basic explanation, there was I time when I could. Ironically, the person who said this enjoys watching Nascar, which is just a game where people drive in a circle until they crash into a wall. ;)

I started playing last summer (from not being able to keep the ball in the court), and I began tennis lessons this week, so it appears I’m committed on some level to improve my game. Perhaps it’s just my “interest of the week” considering how quickly I bounce from one thing to another, but I’m not going to let that stop me from enjoying it as if it’s something I’ll stick with for a long time. Next post: I'm a scuba diver!

Solo Trek

Yesterday's 15-mile ride was my first solo trek. I covered new ground with the Audubon loop, riding across the Schuylkill River (along Rt. 422), and taking the bike loop in Valley Forge Park.

Valley Forge Park map (PDF):
http://www.nps.gov/vafo/planyourvisit/upload/park%20map.pdf

It was quite an enjoyable ride, and to be honest, part of the excitement was exploring new areas. I didn't look at a map ahead of time, and happened upon the bridge that crosses the river. I didn't know what was on the other side, but I knew there was only one way to find out. (Okay, I cross that bridge every day in my car, but I wasn't keen on mingling with traffic since I wasn't wearing a helmet and wanted to stick to bike paths.) As I was deciding to go across, another biker* approached me and asked how to get onto the bridge. I pointed out the way and followed him across. The bridge was interesting, as it is barely wide enough for two bikes to pass each other, and it felt precarious being wooden and high above the river. (Not to mention the cars zooming by just on the other side of a chain-link fence.) The guy met up with buddies on the other side, and I continued toward Valley Forge Park.

I entered Valley Forge Park near the Visitor Center and chose to go South for no particular reason. Mind you, it all makes sense now, but at the time I was just riding with the assumption that at some point I would either double-back or loop back around. I didn't want to double-back, but I didn't want to tire myself out, either. It turned out well though, because I eventually stopped for a map at Wayne's Woods and decided to finish the loop. So I made my way North, then turned back East. I had ridden 10 miles at the point where I passed the chapel. I was glad I went clockwise at that point because the last "leg" was beautiful. And since it went gradually downhill and relatively straight, I got up to 26.9 mph (had I been watching my speed instead of where I was going, surely I would have punched it up to 27).

I was charged from my adventures for the way back home, and arrived back at the car after a total of about 1.5 hours of pedaling. My bike computer doesn't include stops in the trip time, so actual time gone was probably closer to 2 hours. I definitely want to take that route again.

As I was loading my bike onto the car, a park ranger (nametag "D. Smith") asked me about my ride and explained the plans for widening the bridge that crosses 422 at Trooper Rd., and “re”building a bridge next to it. According to him, the second bridge (right next to the current bridge) will be a two-lane bridge open to vehicular traffic during rush hour only and restricted to bicycles/pedestrians the rest of the time. Also, they are going to add TWO lanes EACH WAY on the existing 422 bridge for a total of 4 lanes each way during rush hour. He said the timeframe was probably 4-5 years. You can also see where there was previously a bridge, indicated by the roads that dead-end where they reach the river, and possible pylon remains in the water.


* I used the term "biker" as opposed to "cyclist" to differentiate between mountain biking and road cycling. The person who approached me was clearly a mountain biker as he was covered in mud. And he was riding a mountain bike. :)

Best Birthday Ever

Last Wednesday was a beautiful, sunny 72 degree day. This was the first year that daylight savings time changed earlier, so the day also offered more sunlight after work than those the week prior. It was the 34th anniversary of my birth.

Tom and I played tennis, I with my new tennis racquet he surprised me with on Tuesday.

We went out to dinner at my favorite Mexican restaurant, and I was surprised by four of my friends who were waiting for us. My friends are awesome. They even pitched in and bought me a new Trek 7200 hybrid bicycle! I just picked it up last night after getting it fitted and "souped up" with things like a computer to track speed, distance, etc.

We took the bikes out for a ride today. Then we played tennis. And it was wonderful.

It's about time we learn

Each person is responsible for their own happiness.

Something isn’t best solely because it has always been done.

Change starts from within.

Identifying the best purpose for what initially seems undesirable will help us open our minds.

First and foremost, we have to be happy as individuals, alone—only then will intertwining our lives be fulfilling.

If we trust in and depend on ourselves, individually, to discover and provide for our needs and wants, we can depend on each other for support, without overburdening.

Authenticity

Far too often have I taken cues from those around me to determine what I think, say, and do, rather than my own personal expression.

Therefore, I've been trying to figure out who I am and what I want. This is not a selfish quest any more than it's selfish for a tree to extend it's branches toward infinite sunlight and therefore provide oxygen to it's Earthly cohabitants, albeit a less than conscious effort.

How can I say to someone that I need to figure out who I am? Especially to someone who thinks they know? I've said that I want to "be me", but this implies that at times I'm not "me", which is absurd, since I'm obviously no one else but myself.

I think that my authentic self is buried under years of influence, and that all of the "issues" I'm trying to resolve in myself are just manifestations of incongruency between my authentic self and how my conscious mind, under consideration of external influence, has directed me. So, when I say I want to "be me", I'm saying that I want to shed the extra layers of expectation, fear, and self-judgment and doubt that strip me of my confidence that I'm thinking, doing, and saying what is true.

Perhaps then I will have something as purposeful as oxygen to offer those in my life.

Ungrounded

Post assertions of lofty positive promises from Impetus, I have been uncomfortably ungrounded. In the beginning, it wasn't too bad. I was just disconnected, left with what little inertia remained from tentatively thrusting myself into feeling again. I tried to embrace the period of not being on a path, to be open to my spirit's true expression. However, after a bit of time, the cloudy veil started to lift, and I realized I was definitely not where I wanted to be. I imploded under the instant bombardment of questions. What does this mean? What do I do? Should I change? What should I change? How do I change? What are my options? What do I want? All of which had the same answer: I don't know.

My overarching sense was one of nakedness. Vulnerability. Many a blog post were started during this time, but none survived the collapse of aimlessness that seemed to permeate my every moment of existence. Thankfully, I wasn't (and am still not) hopeless, partly because I know that there is a process to re-evaluating and changing direction, and I've been working on my patience with myself. Also, I've been actively addressing some things that I knew needed attention, so haven't been completely without purpose.

I'm starting to consciously let go of my doubt and discomfort so that I can can receive the answers to my questions. Similar to the philosophy that you will only find what you're looking for once you stop looking. Mind you, this is all easier said than done. Instead of a graceful transition onto a more enlightened path, my natural tendency to rely on external forces results in anguish as I struggle between what I know and what I let myself believe. I have to contend with extreme characteristics from both ends of my personality to find the balance between my faith and my fear. Internal and external. Self and others.

Mantid

A couple of weeks ago, one of my cats (Tiki), brought a praying mantis inside to play with. Fortunately, I noticed before any real harm came to the mantis, and was able to return him to the outdoors.

I believe the one pictured here is male, but that's only based on a childhood memory I have of reading that they were all green when young (nymphs), and as they matured, only the males would turn brown. However, since there are many species and therefore many colors of mantids, I'm not sure how accurate that bit of information is.

This visitor reminded me of my fondness for mantids. It reminded me about how excited I was to find them when I was young. I think they appealed to me mainly because they are relatively large and can move their heads (one of the few insects that can) so there is a connection as they follow your movement with their heads and eyes. Sometimes, I trapped them and provided houseflies so I could observe them prey on live insects. The speed at which they grab their victims and eat them is fascinating to watch. I also remember enjoying how they mimic leaves in a breeze as they sway back and forth on a branch.

After admiring this one, I carried it outside to one of my plants, and it kept flying onto me while I was trying to photograph it, but with some coaxing, it sat still enough for me to grab a couple of shots.

Felinity

I feel great compassion for all animals, and don't like being labeled specifically like "cat person" or "dog person" because those types of labels connote a dislike of the rest as opposed to an increased appreciation of the one. That being said, this post is a tribute to the things I appreciate about cats, specifically those currently in my family and those who have passed. I had to take Majik to the animal hospital this morning for a urinary blockage; so far he is doing well, but I miss him already, and want to acknowledge what I appreciate about him and his kind.

I love falling victim to the "second- or third-kitty" syndrome as I end up napping after cuddling up to sleeping cat(s) in the middle of the day. I love the there's-no-place-I'd-rather-be look they make with their eyes. I love how soft they feel. I love their safe and tranquil purr.

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting on our sofa next to my husband with Majik in my lap. We were both petting him, and he was returning our love in the form of trust, purrs, relaxation, and peace. While sitting there, I said "people who don't like cats have never experienced moments like this."

Trust

I've always thought of myself as a trustworthy person, but pretty much took it for granted when people opened up to me. That was in college. I felt like the dorm counselor because so many people came to me for my perspective on things. Since then, being eschewed from the safe confines of educationland, I see how little people trust others. Granted, there are those who have an easier time at it, and I still fall into the end of the spectrum where I trust too easily.

My point is, as you wouldn't have been able to guess from the above paragraph, that being trusted is a gift. Especially from those at the more conservative end of the trusting spectrum. So, this post is a reminder of how feeling accepted, valued, and trusted shouldn't be taken for granted.

Pressure

I was transported back into grade school Saturday when some friends came over to play tennis. I began to carry the level of confidence that comes with being one of those pathetic "last ones picked." I will always blame inability to physically perform under pressure for being picked last. (When there's no pressure, I'm often quite impressed with what I'm able to do.) And, despite how much I got yelled at by teachers and classmates when I missed a catch, kick, or throw, I believe the greatest pressure came from within myself.

So, even though there was no "picking" involved in playing doubles, points were. So if my partner maintained a good rally only for me to ruin it, I felt like I was letting the world down. This is not just the common disappointment most feel when they don't perform the way the mind says, but the unproportional kind that further degrades my self-image. Fortunately, this was all in my head, which means it's thoretically in my capacity to do something about it. The other good thing about it is that I'm (mostly) surrounded by people who don't contribute to the pressure, if not help reduce it, which is probably why I was able to see where the pressure comes from.

How I became this way is a whole other story.

If

I recently re-read a recounting of my husband's car accident. Unlike last time, I didn't cry out with tears of rage, nor were the pangs of misplaced guilt as severe.

How can such little things have the power to change so much? A split second of time. A scoche of an inch. A two-letter word. If.

How can such a little word bring so much sorrow and pain, yet also so much hope and joy?
It partners with our choices and possibilities, and stays with us after the pieces fall.
It is what allows us, with time, to appreciate good fortune, heal from our wounds, and gain wisdom.

Before we were married, I asked him whether he would change anything in his past if he had the ability. I was upset when he said "not one thing", but eventually realized he had the wisdom to understand how such a little thing would change so much; and what would happen if he did go back and change one little thing?

Delight

Okay, maybe this title would better serve a more agreeable experience, but hey--life's short, and there are many words.

Yesterday, upon opening my car door at the end of a work day, I noticed a tiny spider suspended in the center of the space in which I would be sitting. I gently sweeped my finger several inches above the spider to pick up it's silk and transfer it to a large tree that was closeby.

It's probably worth mentioning at this point that I'm generally comfortable around insects, at least until they are found crawling on me without my permission. (And I'm wary around stinging insects because I'm very allergic.)

As I watched the spider land on the tree, I noticed how the tree's bark was so perfectly, randomly segmented into a beautiful mosaic of puff-pastry-like layers of variegated browns and mottled, lichen greens. The trunk of the tree too large to close my arms around.

Just as I was turning away, I sensed movement on the bark. Upon closer inspection, a piece of bark was moving as if something were beneath it. Nay, it a piece of bark with legs!

I picked up some loose bark on the ground to urge it into a little bag I had to take it home and
investigate.

Delight? Sure! I'd never seen or heard of an insect like it! And I'm always amazed by nature's ingenuity, and this was definitely an example! Just the night before, I saw a television program
about animals that drastically transformed themselves through their lifecycle. This insect turned out to be a brown lacewing larvae; a.k.a. "Aphid Wolf", due to its beneficially carnivorous
nature, and "Trash Bug", due to its practice of attaching debris to its back, including carcasses of insect victims, to protect it from larger predators.

I set it loose among my plants because it will find food there until it makes a cocoon, and maybe I will see an adult lacewing someday.