Choosing Joy

Life is a series of choices we make. Which road we select makes all the difference in how our lives are lived.  During the past couple of years, I chose to find a new path – that of joy over security - and it has really paid off. 

Over the years I’ve had some secure, high-paying jobs but I was never very fulfilled in the corporate world. When I had to leave my last full-time position due the health concerns caused by the stress of the job, I was determined to find a way out of the “rat race”. 

Several attempts at self-employment later, I realized I really had to buckle down and figure out a job that I’d be happy doing. I made a list of all the things I enjoyed doing – including eating – and one day while I was looking at the list I noticed talking, interviewing people and driving. It was like a string of plastic beads snapping together (remember those?) and I knew what I wanted to do – drive a shuttle. 

Simple? Yes. I thought of all the possibilities for shuttles – airports, hotels, car dealerships – and looked online. There were a few of those available for application online, but I had another idea. I got a printout of my driving record, updated my resume and wrote a cover letter. Then I put these together into packets and hand-delivered them to rental car agencies and car dealerships. I literally walked two auto-malls and on my second day out I hit the dealership where I now work. 

It was kismet! They needed a new shuttle driver and I needed a job I would enjoy and I have loved working there every day since.  I work four days – three 10-hours and one 8.5 hours – and have three days off. Each workday is an adventure, quite literally.

I drive people home, to work or to places of entertainment – like a casino, movies or the mall – while their vehicle is being serviced. About half the time, I go pick them up and return them to the dealership. This humble chore is, for me, an opportunity to get to know each one a little bit. 

Most of them have something interesting in their lives; a past, an occupation, a trouble they need to share with someone or they know a bit of history of the Roseville area. I’ve carried people who originated in The Netherlands, England, Nigeria, New Zealand, Columbia, Korea, Peru, Romania, Albania, Russia and many more countries.  I’ve also had a former locomotive driver, a lady bug wrangler (a gentleman who gathers ladybugs and sells them online), a professional harmonica player; and veterans of WWII, the Korean War, Vietnam, both Iraqi engagements and the Afghanistan conflict, of both sexes. 

I know during my trips with these passengers I am often able to make their day better, which is really my goal. Either we laugh together, cry together or are just reminded that we are all humans who need other humans. It is a great life and I find JOY continuously. 

And as a writer, I am doubly fulfilled because I find so many story ideas among these encounters.

The trip to this new phase of my life was painful. It involved a lot of failure and soul searching but in the end, I found a treasure by sticking – obstinately – to the idea that there had to be job I was perfect for out there and vice versa. Oh, by the way, I was nominated for Employee of the Month before I’d even completed my probationary period from a field of 300 employees. I didn’t win, but I really mean this when I say just being nominated was truly a great honor. 

Words to the wise: If you are not finding joy in what you do, begin to make a change and proceed until you do. It likely will not be a quick process, but in the end, you’ll be glad you did.

Just a Couple of Peasant Girls

It was a typical weekend evening on Sunday when Red and I began to discuss our taste in food and drink, as we sipped our Bloody Marys.  We’d been talking about chili, when we discovered…

Red: Oh, yeah. I love a big bowl of chili with some cheese and onions. 

Kathy: We both like chili, pasta, goulash, stew…

Red: You’re right. What’s that all about?

Kathy: Basically, we like peasant food. It’s not just about comfort food, it’s about a big pot of something, with the flavors all blended together. 

Red: You’re right again. And if it’s cheap to make, it’s even better! (she said with a big laugh)

Kathy: (chuckling, too) Yep, cheap is good as long as the quality is there. 

Red: You must have come from a long line of peasants! (mocking grin on her face)

I simply nodded my head and took another sip, thinking even my taste in alcoholic beverages was very basic. 

Kathy: I think that extends to wines and things as well. Frankly, I have no palette for fine wines. Absolutely none. 

Red: Me, too. A great wine is wasted on me. I can’t taste the subtle differences. If it tastes good, that’s enough for me. 

Kathy: Right! When you think about it, a Bloody Mary is really just a good old stew of a drink. I mean, there’s tomato juice and spices, a stick of celery, a couple of big olives if you’re lucky…

Red: Yep, and we do love our Bloody Marys, don’t we?

Kathy: We certainly do. 

We clinked glasses at that point and Red said it before I could.

Red: I guess we’re just a couple of peasant girls, aren’t we?

I nodded and smiled contentedly at her.

Mirror, Mirror…

Magical Mirror by *Ironshod on deviantART 

I fell in love last week. I had occasion to share a motel room in Carson City, Nevada with my mother and sister and shortly after checking in, I wandered into the bathroom to straighten myself up. 

There it was – a six-foot wide, sink to ceiling, mirror. I spied the woman staring into it and nearly didn’t recognize myself. I was gorgeous. If it was possible I would have dated myself.

Seriously, I looked a good 15 years younger, all pink and glowing. I spent that night and the next morning taking several unnecessary trips to the mirror, staring at my long-lost self. If only I could have taken the glorious reflection with me!

This has happened to me a few times, and I know most women will have experienced this – a reflection that is almost surreal. I don’t know if it’s lighting or mirror quality or both, but it’s a wonder. The last time I fell in love with a mirror I was working in a grungy little newspaper office and the shared ladies room was located in the motorcycle shop next door.

I made an inordinate number of trips through this establishment to visit my reflected self.  I’m sure it was noticed by the other employees and the shop’s owner, who looked good enough in his tight jeans to warrant an additional round of trips to the “other side.” Yes, I did meet all my deadlines, but not with any help from the mirror or Mr. Blue Jeans.

 

I returned from my trip on Friday and the image that greeted me in my little makeup mirror was a stranger to me. I’m not sure who that woman is in the little round thingie. Surely not me!

I’m craving a return to my mirror. Yes, it is mine. We have a special relationship now. What’s that you say? It’s currently fulfilling the needs of some other woman?!

 

No, no, say it isn’t so!

Rest, Relaxation and Adventure = Renewal

I began my first real vacation in three years a couple of weeks ago and it was absolutely wonderful. I’ve taken time off in the past few years, but nothing involving travel and adventure. I won’t let so much time go by again.

My daughter, Vanessa, came to visit and in the past that has meant the two of us staying in my tiny RV Wanda and going to the zoo or movies for fun. This time she had a full eight days to spend with me and I structured that time so that we did not spend a moment in Wanda, which was a blessing for me. I made a point to stay off the computer as well, with the exception of posting a few pictures on Facebook.

We went to Yosemite, spent a couple of days with relatives, and then we headed to Napa Valley and on to Ft. Bragg. We spent one night in Yosemite’s Curry Village and the other nights either with relatives or in motels, the last of which was the luxurious Westin on the Sacramento River. They have beds that a person could easily spend their lives in, plush to the max.

Getting to experience all this with my sweet kid was great. What I found was most pleasurable was being away from my daily experience, away from my home, away from the cares of everyday life. I escaped, for a while, the regularity of my existence and stepped into other worlds. We had more than one adventure; searching for a place to eat in Napa and stumbling on to Downtown Joe’s – excellent breakfast, sitting for a bit along a quiet portion of the Merced River as it ambled through Yosemite (pictured above), exploring the awesome Ft. Bragg Botanical Gardens, finding a world-famous restaurant - The French Laundry - and ecstatically photographing my chef daughter in front of it and among their gardens across the street.

Returning home was a jolt, but a day or so later, I was dog-sitting for my sister and found myself zoning out on their On Demand. Since I don’t have a television, I took the opportunity to watch Seasons 3 and 4 of the absolutely amazing Showtime series The Big C and every available episode of Storage Wars. I came away with a brain washed clean of all the realities of my own life, as if my mind was a giant blackboard and someone had taken a big eraser to it.

This two week period brought home to me what I’ve always known but sometimes forget to act on; that rest, relaxation and adventure are necessary ingredients to a sense of renewal everyone needs in life. It’s difficult at times to recognize how badly run down we are, especially if we don’t consider ourselves to be working at our full potential. That, in fact, can be even more stressful on a person than clipping along at a frenetic pace.

Last night, I ended my two weeks of self-imposed vacation, after spending an entire day watching Season Three of the FX show Damages on my personal DVD player. As soon as I mentally declared myself back from vacation, my mind started frantically working. I had several amazing ideas for books I’m working on and a new one. It was exhilarating.

All this from two weeks of escape from reality and one, only one, Bloody Mary!

Inspired by a Brave Dog

I took this picture on July Fourth. The beautiful white Labrador in it is Indy, my sister’s dog, and she’s blind. 

It’s probably not all that remarkable that Indy still swims, because she’s been kindly re-introduced to the family swimming pool. However, I felt a small thrill a year or so ago when she first began taking off from the steps obviously unsure of where she was going. Now she’s got a circuit from the steps and back, so she more secure of how to get out of the pool. 

That weekend I witnessed her jumping from the side of the pool directly into the middle of it with little more than slight hesitation and some vocal support from my sis. 

Indy leapt into the water, trusting that it was actually there, based entirely on her hearing. It was wonderful to see. She looked magnificent sailing through the air and landing in the pool. You could almost see confidence flowing through her when the wet confirmed what she believed, that there was water there all along. 

How many humans would do the same thing, in spite of actually being able to understand the words being said? Hell, we often don’t even trust when we CAN see the water and someone says “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

I hope as I continue on through life, the next time I need to jump blindly into something I think is there, I’ll have the memory of Indy’s bravery to spur me on.  I wish that for you too, dear reader.