The Little Things

I know it's not considered cool to show emotion these days. When you start dating someone or when you're applying for a job, or hell, when you're walking down the street by yourself, you're supposed to keep your cool. Not show your hand. Maintain a poker face.

I say, screw that.

One of my favorite things about myself (that I'm pretty sure is a result of my acting training) is that I feel things and that I allow myself to feel things. Feeling things is fun. It's great to be happy, it's useful to be sad, it can be cathartic to get really angry for a short while. And I love that I'm the sort of person who lets herself be affected by things. Even the little things. Especially the little things.

There have been some seemingly minor things in my life lately that have been bringing me immense joy and I want to take a moment to acknowledge them. Mostly, they have to do with the people around me choosing to invest their time and energy in me and then letting me know that not only do they not regret the investment, but feel that they have received a significant return on investment by doing so. I know, I know, it sounds so clinical when I say it that way, but I think we're all used to the level of anonymity I like to maintain in these posts. What I mean is that I feel appreciated in my personal and professional lives at the moment, and that the simple kindness of these people letting me know I am appreciated in actions and in words moves me to tears sometimes. Usually when it would be really inappropriate to start crying. But I love that the impulse is there.

So my advice to you would be this. Find one small thing in your life that makes you happy. Put your music-listening device on shuffle and let your smile take over your face when your favorite song comes on when you weren't expecting it. Let yourself take thirty seconds in the middle of your work day to think about how you can make best friend or lover smile that day. Treat yourself to your favorite sandwich. Forget about everything else you have to do and just enjoy playing catch or tug of war with your dog for a few minutes. Find one small thing that makes you happy. And revel in that joy. Treat that small thing as if it were the most important thing in all the world. Because it is. For you, in that moment, all you have to do is feel joy.

Once you master that, you'll be amazed at how easy it is to find joy when you need it. And how easy it is to give to others, too.

February 14 - The Dreaded VD

Valentine's Day. No, I'm not diseased, I'm just bitter.

Actually, not all that bitter. My dear friend had a baby boy this morning, and I'm kind of over the moon for her and her family. They've been waiting for this blessing for a really long time and I'm so excited that they finally get to say hello to him. I can't wait to meet him! Which means a trip to Texas, which is warmer than Chicago, yes?

So last year I had a Valentine and this year I do not. Things happen. But I would like to fill my blog with love today for not quite a something, not quite a someone, but for a place full of things and people that always brightens my day. There is a Vietnamese restaurant right near where I work that may be my favorite restaurant in Chicago - Saigon Sisters. It is the kind of place I have started visiting too frequently but I don't really care because:

1) The food is delicious. Seriously. I do not have words to describe the deliciousness so you'll just have to trust me, but every time I go in there, my meal is absolute perfection whether I'm dining in or doing carry-out.
2) There is more than one thing on the menu that I can eat. This might not sound like a big deal, but for a vegan surrounded by chain restaurants that typically only have one thing I can eat (usually sans any real form of protein), this is a huge deal for me. I like having options, and there are at least three, maybe four things I can eat at Saigon Sisters. It makes me feel "normal."
3) The people who work there. The gentleman behind the counter and I have the lovely sort of relationship where we chat when he's not busy. He told me a couple of weeks ago that he thought of me while he and his husband were having a Torchwood marathon, and when he asked about my weekend last week and I told him I had a big audition coming up, he remembered it and asked how everything went when I was in there this week. Again, this may not seem like a big deal, but as I often deal with people who yell at me on the phone for things that aren't my fault or can't seem to remember that I'm vegan (even though they make fun of me for it on a weekly basis) when it comes to ordering group lunches, to have this man who has no real motivation for being kind to me be kind to me...it makes my day. Granted, he's probably kind because I'm in there a lot and he would like to make sure I continue to dine there, but he goes above and beyond the normal kindness shown by restaurant staff. And he is not the only one. I am always greeted by name when I go in there by at least two people, if not more. If the owner is in, he'll come over, shake my hand, and ask how my mom is doing. When she and I dine there together, we get star treatment even though we've only been in a few times. It is just a really quality group of people who work at Saigon Sisters and they are at least half of the reason I eat there as often as I do. (The other half is the food. Seriously, I don't have the words to contain all of that delicious.)

So I would like to ask this restaurant if it would be my Valentine today, for always feeding me well, and for always putting a smile on my face. Thank you, Saigon Sisters. Keep on doing what you do, and all of your patrons will continue to adore you as I do.

September 22 - Humanity

I went to the drug store today to get trash bags and toilet paper. As I was standing in line to pay, there was an older gentleman in front of me finishing his transaction. He moved his items out of the way to make space for me to set mine down on the counter. I thanked him. He continued talking to the cashier, a young woman who obviously knew him as a store regular. She played along in the friendly-but-maybe-glad-when-he-leaves kind of a way. The older gentleman brought me in on the conversation, something about telemarketers. I sort of mumbled a response, and the man stayed almost long enough for me to finish my transaction as well, not really talking about anything special, just sort of chatting. As he left, he thanked me for talking to him instead of running away. "People do that, you know. They run away. So thank you for talking to me," he said. 

Now, I don't know this man's story, but he broke my heart in the store today. Maybe he was married for fifty years and lost his wife recently, so his trip to the drug store on Sunday mornings to flirt with the cashier is the only real human contact he gets anymore. Maybe he has a fantastic group of friends who meet twice a week for dinner and cigars. Maybe he has seventeen children buried under the floor in his basement. Whatever his story, a mumbled conversation about telemarketers while standing in line at the drug store meant something to him today. Meant enough that he thanked me for extending the most basic human courtesy of not running away when he spoke to me. Whatever the story that led him to feel the need to say thank you for that...it broke my heart.

As you go about your day, I would ask that you keep this in mind. What acts of basic human courtesy, kindness, or grace are you passing up because you can't be bothered? What kind of beauty and human connection could happen if you just took a moment and resisted running away? And which option makes you feel most human?

August 12 - Mondays

I will admit that I am angry and bitter today. I know many of the reasons why I am angry and bitter, and I know that most of them are constructs of my own imagination. Most of them are things I can do something about, too, though one giant one is going to take a while. It's kind of stunning to me how this one bad thing can infect so much of the rest of my life until I end up walking around feeling like I am, in general, an angry and bitter person, because I'm pretty sure the opposite is true. Following days like this, where I become afraid that I am, in general, and angry and bitter person, I usually end up overcompensating and going overboard trying to prove to the people around me that I am not a bitter and angry person, that I am in fact nice and caring. My efforts often meet with little reciprocation, though, so the bitter and angry me has decided to not go that route today. I am, instead, going to allow myself to be better and angry for a bit. And then I am going to mention three things today that brought me joy.

1) I saw a rainbow.
2) I'm wearing a skirt that is so old the elastic in the waistband is completely worn out and it makes me feel like a 1990's slacker.
3) I listened to Frank Turner songs on my way home from work and his song "To Take You Home" reminded me that there are things in this life so beautiful that my face is too small for the smile they inspire. I'm okay with having this problem, though, and I will never stop trying to smile big enough to show my love.

Happy Monday, everybody.

June 17 - It's Not All Bad

I don't even remember exactly why now, but as I was walking up to my building this morning, I was thinking about gun control in the United States, and how ridiculous it is. Maybe it is because I heard about the 10-ish fatal shootings that happened in Chicago over the weekend, some involving teenagers. And then the internet meme ran through my head saying how one terrorist plane crash means we all have to take our shoes off at the airport, so how many school shootings will it be before we have reasonable gun control legislation? And I started to think about the people who feel they need guns to protect themselves and their families, and how they quote the Second Amendment whenever they can, even if they don't full understand it and most likely can't quote it verbatim. (I can't quote it verbatim, either, but if someone wants to take away my right to own a gun, I'm okay with that. I don't want one in the first place.) And that train of thought lead me to the fact that we are a country that lives in fear, almost all of the time. If we're not afraid of terrorist attack, we're afraid the crib we bought will end up suffocating our children, or that eggs will make us all keel over from heart attacks and soy will make you grow man boobs. We're afraid of the bugs that eat our crops and the pesticides we use to keep bugs off of our crops. We're afraid to talk to our neighbors and we're afraid we're going to die alone. We're afraid that someone out there somewhere has more stuff, or has better stuff, or is more comfortable with his stuff than we are. We're afraid to say things out loud that need to be said like, "I love you," or "You are important to me," but we shout racial epithets at comedians who haven't even made it to the punchline yet. We're afraid if we dress too sexy, we'll be "asking for it," but if we don't dress sexy enough, nobody will want it. We're afraid of cholesterol and radiation and global warming. We're afraid of genetically modified foods and we're afraid our kids will be kidnapped and never found again unless we put microchips in them. We, as Americans, are afraid of everything. I sort of think a capitalist society breeds a culture of fear - if we're not afraid of things, how can we be convinced to buy that which we don't need?

But then, I made it into my office and checked my email, and there was a note in there from a complete stranger. I know this one was intended for me, because the title was "The Hamburg Demos," which was the title of a demo CD I put together sometime around 2004-ish that a few people picked up here and there. If I listen to the tunes now, they strike me as young and immature, and severely lacking in instrumentation - it's all just my voice and a guitar - to the point where I can barely listen. So I don't. But this stranger, this man I've never met, sent me an email to thank me for the disc. He doesn't remember where he got it, but he rediscovered it recently and said he has been listening to it on repeat. He said it is helping him through the mourning process of the loss of a long-term relationship, and he told me I have a lovely voice. He said he hopes I'm still making music.

You know that feeling when your heart wells up in your chest and radiates a brilliant bright gold light because there is just too much love in there for it to be expected to stay within the confines of your rib cage? I felt that this morning, and every time I reread that email. This stranger, this man, thought enough of my music that he put aside the random fear that goes along with reaching out to someone you've never met to say something nice. Thank you. Thank you for that email.

And you know what happens when we put fear aside and say nice things to each other? We make people smile and we make ourselves feel good. The whole world isn't violence and guns - there is a lot of beauty to share out there, too. So go be nice to somebody!

Love your faces.

April 23 - Thank You

I was the recipient of a random act of kindness from a stranger today. I don't know what motivated the act, but I thanked the performer of the act several times as sincerely as I could for the act. It wasn't anything big or life-changing, but still. It was a random act of kindness that should not go unnoticed or unacknowledged.

Thank you, woman I don't know, for your generosity!