I was given the role of dropping off a long-term friend at the airport yesterday. Have you ever been in that position? It simultaneously makes you sad and happy. Happy, because you are handed the position of being the last person your friend sees, yet sad, because as your friend wheels her suitcase into the automatic doors, you are handed a lonely car ride home. But okay, please ignore the sappy sad vibes here, for that the point of this entry here today. The reason, is because I noticed something. I noticed something while we were approaching the curbside.

We've all been there, trying to spot the sign for the proper airline, while maneuvering around parked vehicles, and managing to avoid the cars merging their way out of the airport abyss. As my friend and I did this, I took notice to the pedestrians. And not to avoid hitting them, necessarily, ha. But I just just noticed them. Noticed how many embraces were taking place.  Noticed the waves. Noticed the smiles. And... it dawned on me.

The drop-off area may be the sole place where that much appreciation for an individual is expressed. Think about it. In one space, consistently, by a such variety of people.  People of every age and of every connection.

It may be the happiest place on earth. Okay, indeed debatable.  But if you want to be reminded of how much love is indeed shared in the world, take note of the surrounding families and friends at the airport drop off the next time you go. Just sayin'.

Love,
Jayme

So, most of us can say that we have gotten advice about adulthood at one time or another. We are warned that friends will get jobs and start to move away, budgeting will fall unto our shoulders, dating will be slightly reckless and confusing, and cooking for one is harder than it sounds. However.  There was one phase of adulthood that no one told me about. It has caught me off guard, and it is here to stay.

Adults, are now peers. 

Okay, yes, simple statement. It doesn’t sound like it has much weight. But, allow me to explain why this simple statement has blown my mind recently.

ALL our lives, we have been surrounded by people in our age group.  School classes, sports teams, after school activities are made up of groups with an adult figure in charge.  They were the ones with the rules. The teachers. The moms and dads of our friends. 

We did not hear about their financial issues, their marriages, their divorces, or their insecurities.  That was private and/or filtered ambiguously through conversation.

Though, I have technically been an adult since my eighteenth birthday, it wasn’t until this year that the age boundary became obsolete.  Personal life is not filtered amongst co-workers thirty years my senior. I hear of their hurts, their joys, their sexual histories, issues with their kids.

And it has me not knowing how to react.  My instincts tell me that I should not hear this stuff.   I guess there is no such thing as a kids table anymore.

In a way it is a beautiful surprise. It’s as if we can all finally be vulnerable with each other. And I have a feeling some beautiful ageless friendships will grow from this.

So it goes... crowding thoughts begin to take on new colors, shaping distractions behind your eyes.  The light rays peeping through your blinds have officially begun to lose their ambiance. They are now, your enemy. You know your to-do list could weigh heavier than your pen.  What's worse is when the to-do list is pretty absent of deadlines, ahem, such as my own. The result: trading dance partners between anxiety and relief, consistantly.

This, is a failing nap. Arguably one if the worst feelings in the world. When gaining energy even proves unproductive, it’s easy to feel like you're officially riding in the caboose of the productivity train.

Lately that caboose has been hard to escape. Have you ever had so many things you want to do or try, that you kind of forget what you want to do and try? It sucks. You have dreams and pursuits, but getting a manual on how to reach them is out of the question.

I guess I am discovering how hard it is to balance dreaming and living.  Living out any dream is not a piece of pumpkin pie. Refusing a mundane adult life is definitely no crème brulee.

But that’s the beauty of it, or so let's hope. One thing is for sure; it might be time to minimize naptime.

This will probably make you realize how random my mind can be. But, (deep breath) I am going to come out with this thought anyway.

So, picture grass coming up through concrete. This typically translates to a couple different thoughts:

    "That's ugly.  It should be mowed, asap. Or, the area I am walking in has higher     chances of being "sketchy," most likely."

Well, what occurred to me (as I was walking, clearly a day when I did not have much else to think about) is WHY don't I think of this as:

    "Holy crap, these fragile blades of grass just broke through fricken concrete. What     are the chances. That is beautiful."

If you think about it, they worked super hard to get there. They fought against the odds to grow there. I mean, I can't even break through concrete and here those green little guys can do it.

Okay, yes, I know I have thought a little too hard about this, but here is my point. This is an example of how a change in perspective, brought beauty out of ugly. We have the power to alter "ugly" situations into "beautiful" ones very simply. Yet so often we do not even think to do so.

The next time you walk by some grass growing through concrete, my hope is that you are reminded of this.

Best,
Jayme

   

It is not often that you are handed the opportunity to share your life story to unfamiliar eyes.   Well tonight, I did. Recently, I began volunteering for an amazing faith-based organization that works with highschoolers.  And tonight, was my night to let them in, about myself.  To who this Jayme person is that comes to their group meetings every other week. 

In preperation for this talk, I decided to write it on note cards. That way, bam, the chances of getting side tracked or nervous would be less. Well, whoosh, it is weird writing your life out on note cards.  Bulleting out the instances that shaped you. The things that you hide from the average person.   Things that you even hide from yourself.  

It emptys you – in a good way. As you enunciate every piece of your story out loud, it gives shape to the roller coaster that is your life. But this time, the twists and upside down loops are suddenly not as scary.  

I hope everyone gets the chance to bullet-point their life on a pair of 3x5s.   

Cafe tables are interesting.

If you think about it, those spaces between two chairs have exchanged countless conversations. Harbor countless thoughts.

..Of sincere hurts perhaps. Maybe even unexpected joys; savored or since forgotten. 

I'll find my eyes recall certain tables and what memory was had there. Suddenly jealous of the new people sitting there. Stealing the table that held a boy I felt some love for, or the girls I admired, or stranger filled wisdom. 

The tables that hurt, I remember the most.

As I sit nestled in the corner of this cafe, finding myself desperately wanting to offer some "paradigm-shift" phrase to this screen, all I can think of is how it felt being the subject of that classic over-the-counter smile, that just handed me my tea. 

Okay, that smile couldn't have been that frustrating. For all I know, that could just be how she smiles. I am just, well, in a bad mood. Yep, Jayme Markus in a bad mood. Whoosh, that took me an awful long while to say. Why is it so hard to admit such a simple emotion? Because it's not on the menu for a productive, perfect day? Well, sorry "restaurant of happiness," I am not hungry right now.

Okay that restaurant analogy did not make sense. No matter. What ever. I've admitted my emotions. And I don't feel that much better, but my day feels a little more honest.  A little more honest and hence, better. Better than it was 17 minutes ago, at least.

I guess all I am suggesting is when we are not feeling "okay" we don't have to be okay. Maybe then our days will look a little more honest. Less fake. Less over-the-counter smile-y.

How's that for a paradigm shift. 

I kind of hate how the word "citizen" has a political feel to it. Why? Because things within a political context usually shut people off, and spurs defensiveness and uneasiness.

But it is true. We are each a citizen. Together, of the world, even. This notion boggles me. Maybe because by nature I am a rather passive person and have a knack for avoiding controversial topics of conversation. The idea of word-fully disagreeing with an individual's opinion (and heaven forbid a political opinion) is enough to make my underarms begin to perspire. But all-be-it, the truth is I am tired of being a "subconscious" citizen; hearing about the world, its strife, and its victories. Big or small. I want to be a conscious citizen.  

We are already citizens, but it is so easy not to act like one.
 
The website that spurred this "citizen" awakening in me is Amnestyusa.org. They have a page where you can submit your opinions to the correct political department/individuals (worldwide) that have the current connections to perhaps help something to happen. This might just be the ticket, to scratch at the conscious citizen within.  

I encourage you to check it out:
http://www.amnestyusa.org/take-action-online/page.do?id=1031043

"Love will never separate a man from his personal legend." -Paulo Coelho

The quote above taught me a valuable lesson today. While reading a book of Paul Coelho's quotes at the laundromat down the street, I had what seemed to be endless time to ponder.  As my clothes spun around and around, it became clear to me  that most often, I find myself putting on blinders when it comes to love . "Love." As if to somehow, indefinitely, try to protect my heart from meeting the wrong person.  Of course, when someone comes your way, this becomes an issue.  Suddenly, guilt manifests itself all to easily as you take your guard down, in fear that you are investing feelings in someone that, in the end, will probably not be yours. 

But what then, when mutual feelings do happen? With a fascinating individual that enters your life. When their very presence shapes you.  Kick yourself consistently with the idea that they could not be right for you, not be right for your path? Sure makes the experience more stressful. 

Paulo Coelho describes your path as your personal legend.  The legend being the story that we each live out.  In the quote above, he assures me that love, in its true being, will never separate us from our personal legends. The experiences had between you and an individual may end, yes. But do not regret the lessons had. Do not question if you are off your path when experiencing love, because that, child, I guess is impossible.