The Gift of Giving

Happiness is a choice. Take it from someone who lives with depression that happiness is a choice. It might not be an easy choice, but it is one, nonetheless.

We, as a species, have developed strange concepts of what will bring us joy. We think that the more things we obtain, the more content with our lives we will be. Yet, people who's lives are consumed with the collection of things (I'm referencing hoarders) are some of the most miserable and dissatisfied people you will know. We assume that he who dies with the most toys wins; when that could not be further from the truth. It all lies in the experiences we have in the brief span that we spend on this planet - and the people we spend it with.

It truly is as simple as that.

This particular musing is sparked with the fact that I'm once again working retail during the holiday season. Work is rather chaotic at times and people collectively have much shorter fuses than they usually do. With Christmas being at the end of this week, there is an air of complete desperation in everyone that you come in contact with. Humans generally don't handle the rapid end of deadlines well and this is a big one. Yet, it's all in the pursuit of making others happy. Which, you would think would bring us joy in the act of giving; but we place so much importance on the items that we are acquiring that we forget about the whole reason of why we are doing it.

I've discovered that the older I get (and, really, I'm not that old), the less importance I have on acquiring things. Partially it has to do with how much I have moved in my adult life; but mainly it's because I have discovered that I get far more pleasure being with people than I do acquiring things. I'm filling my life with experiences, not stuff. And I am much more content in my life this way.

Something else that brings me joy is doing things for others. Taking care of people and their happiness. I am giving, sometimes to a fault, because I know exactly what it is like to go without. To be short changed by circumstances. So, if I'm in a place where I can help others, I will. I get fulfillment out of building others up, not tearing them down. And knowing that I gave what I could to ensure that their needs have been met.

Which is also why I treasure most those who do the same for me. Life is all about balance; so if I'm giving my all and getting nothing in return, I burn out and become resentful. As the saying goes, you cannot pour from an empty bucket.

Each person's journey is unique to themselves; as is what brings them the most satisfaction in life. Yet, collectively, when we reach our end, the only thing that matters most to ourselves (and those that we know), is how we treat one another. People think of their loved ones, not their bank accounts, on their death beds. They think of the things they wish they had done - not the things they wish they had bought.

So keep that in mind as the holiday season draws to a close. The one thing that your loved ones what most of is you.

Drawing To A Close

The beautiful thing about the past is that we can move forward from it. We can use the lessons that our mistakes teach us as a stepping stone to a better future. And we can use the pain of previous events to allow us to grow in full new directions.

As I'm writing this, it is almost three in the morning of December 13th. It is 12 days until Christmas and 18 days until New Year's Eve. Which means that 2015 is rapidly drawing to a close. This, as I have spoken about many times previously, has been a drastically difficult year for me. Health wise. Occupation wise. Relationship (both with friends and family) wise. Financial wise. I have been reminded of my own mortality. I have been shown time and time again that nothing is permanent. I have learned that not every opportunity that seems to be impeccable on paper is meant to be. But with every tribulation and trial, there has been room for me to grow and mature. I'm not as wise as I previously thought I was, but I do know that I am wiser than I previously have been. And, while I have suffered much, I have also developed equally so.

A very recent development with me is that I am now once again speaking with someone that I care deeply about. I won't go into details, but there was an incident last year in which I had my feelings hurt; and in turn, I hurt hers. She and I haven't spoken since; until very recently. And, while she hasn't outwardly said it, I know that she no longer trusts me. She has every right not to. And I know that the only way I can ever gain that trust back is to slowly rebuild it. There is also a massive body of water separating us now; which is honestly for the best. I cannot see her with any sort of frequency any more. There will be full weeks where we will not meet. Which is a polar opposite from before, when I would see her at least once a week. It also means that when I do see her, it's because I have traveled hours out of my way just to see her. Even if it is for only five minutes at a time.

I am an entirely different person than I was this time last year. Living in the shadowed wasteland of the city you have considered to be your home town does something to you. The place where you have grown most of your roots is rapidly rotting to the core. I spent much, if not all of last year in a constant shroud of deep-seated depression. The same goes for this year. In fact, it wasn't until I finally fully transitioned over here that the veil of suffering began to lift. Sure, I have had some setbacks (to put it mildly) since moving here; but I am overall significantly more happy than I have been in some time. More content with how things are. It helps also that I am back in the bookstore environment and working with an amazing team. I'm slowly beginning to make friends over here, as well. That alone has been more difficult; since free time has now become a premium.

There is another change that is happening. One of my best friends has been posting Buddhist stories and proverbs. The main focus of them is accepting circumstances just as they are. We human (and I am most definitely guilty of this) drive ourselves mad trying to find the "meaning of life" and all the events that happen within it. Yet, some times, things just are the way they are. Some things happen and we are not meant to know the meaning of them; if there is any at all. So, the teachings coupled with the slower pace of life and I am finally starting to find the calm I need. The serenity of the ordinary. I can actually be in the moment now and embrace it for what it is. And I am fully beginning to understand "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself."

I do not know what 2016 has in store for me - but I'm okay with that. I do know that it will be a year of writing. I have this year's NaNoWriMo project that I'm going to actually turn into a novel. The same goes for last year's NaNoWriMo project. I'm also going to be outlining and beginning a young adult fantasy series. Seven books in that is the goal. And, before the closure of next year, I will have my memoir not only written, but hopefully published. That particular project I will be pulling much from this blog; as well as the previous major blog that I have written. Plus other topics that I have yet to touch on. I am also hoping to do some traveling next year. It has been far too long and my wanderlust gnaws at me daily.

In closing, I have one thing I wish my readers to do: let go. Life is too short for grudges. Life is too short to stay chained to the past. Life is too short to limit yourself to conceived notions of perfection. Let go and start living. Because none of us truly know how much time we actually have left.

Wet.

So, the other night I rode in the back of a cop car. And I couldn't have been happier about it.

Let me explain.

It has been raining pretty much non-stop this month. Now, since it's December and this is the Pacific Northwest, that really shouldn't surprise any one. But we had a warm and dry winter last year; follow by a hot and dry summer. 2015 was one of the driest years on record, so all of this precipitation that we've been getting as of late is desperately needed. The flip side of all this is that the ground has been so parched that it's having a hard time retaining all the water that's being dumped on it. Trees are falling as well, due to the sudden over saturation of the soil.

I personally do not own a car. They're bloody expensive and need constant upkeep.  And, to be frank, I don't make enough to own one. So there's that. Normally, the metro system is pretty extensive; but now that I'm living in Kitsap County, I'm discovering just how limited it is over here. With all the faults of King and Pierce County's metro systems, you can still rely on them to get you from point A to point B at pretty much any time, day or night. That is not the case over here. By any means. Which brings me to the story at hand.

The metro over here doesn't run on Sundays. At all. Neither the buses or the foot ferry. It's as if they think that people only travel six days a week. Any way, so this particular Sunday, the weather is being particularly nasty. The power went out for about ten minutes; and that was me prior to going to work. My roommate was able to drop me off pretty close to work, but I still had to walk about seven miles from where he dropped me off to where I work. Which, actually, turned out to be serendipitous; as I was able to help out an elderly man who had gotten a flat on the side of the road because of this. The downside is that it was sprinkling when I began the journey, and full blown pouring well into the trek north. And, because I had to rush out the door, I neglected to grab an umbrella on the way out the door.

So, I was pretty damp by the time I got to work, but I was able to get a hot tea before starting, so the combined hot tea and hot store allowed me to dry quickly. I had previously arranged a ride home with my roommate, so I wasn't that worried about the weather. A non-issue. Since I was closing, I knew that I couldn't get a ride home with any of my co-workers (the ones working that night don't live anywhere close to me). And, due to the fact that I have a new phone and number, he was pretty much my only option for a dry way home.

As I was getting off, I noticed that I had a missed call from him. I called him back and he told me that he wouldn't be able to pick me up, due to his son already being asleep and he wouldn't be able to pick me up, after all. Now, as I had just gotten a new phone and had a rather small check, a taxi was not an option. Uber and Lyft are less expensive, but do not serve Kitsap. At all. A coworker of mine lives not far from the mall (I'm alone at this point) and she was one of the few numbers I had in my phone, so I called her. Unfortunately, her son was also asleep. Which meant I was out of options. Which meant that I now facing the reality of walking 20 miles in the torrential rain and steady winds. 20 miles. It's already been dark for hours and the deluge was not going to be letting up any time soon. I, in full honesty, was starting to panic. Seven miles was pretty miserable in and of itself. I was now facing walking almost three times that length in even more severe weather and with significantly less visibility.

Now, before I continue, let me clear something up. It wasn't the distance that had to travel that bothered me. I've done 20 miles many times before. I've also had to walk in worse conditions. There was the blizzard back in... 2008 (I think. Or 2009. I can't remember which) that I walked a couple miles in. And I walked many a time in the heat and humidity of Texas summers. The "issue" (if you will) I was having was that the weather was not only unrelenting, it was also affecting visibility. There also isn't much as far as cover for most of trip. At least ten miles of it being on the freeway...

I stepped out from where I was taking shelter, and was soaked almost immediately. I haven't even begun my trek and I was already wet. Livid with my situation, I posted on Facebook my circumstances, and then bit the bullet and started walking. I was barely out of the parking lot and drenched. The coat I was wearing is normally really good with rain, but with the sheer volume of water cascading from the sky, it couldn't keep me dry. The rain as it beat against my hood sounded like the rain drumming the roof of a tent. The wind was not relenting; but neither was I. As utterly mad as I was; I had no other way of getting home than my own two feet.

About a mile down the road, I get a phone call. I ducked under a tree to answer it and discovered that it was my mom. She saw my post on Facebook and was extremely worried about me. I told her what was going on; and she recommended that I call 911 and see if they could help me at all. Which was something that hadn't even occurred to me. I told her I would call them and had to hang up, due to the fact that even though I was under a tree, I was still getting saturated.

I continued my journey and I was able to make it another two miles before finding shelter in the doorway of a cafe. My mom had been trying to reach me to see if I had made the call, so I called her back to let her know I was okay and hadn't been able to dial 911 yet. By now, my phone was at 1% battery, so I hung up and made the call. As soon as the operator answered, I let her know it was a non-emergency and proceeded to tell her my plight. She informed me that they normally don't do things like this (due to being understaffed), but she would put it out there and let me know that I may be getting a call from the Sheriff's office. I told her that my phone was at 1% and she let me know she was putting it out there right away. I hung up; and about five minutes later, I get a call from an unknown number. I answered and it was indeed one of the sheriffs. He also reiterated that they don't normally do anything like this; but he was five minutes away and was willing to help me this one time.

Relief passed over me as I hung up. I called my mom to let her know and she was deeply relieved. I had to hang up, in case they called me again; and just after ending the call, my phone died.

The thunder started to roll at that point and it started to rain even harder. Ten minutes passed and a cop car came rolling up to me. He got out and had to pat me down before letting me in the vehicle. Asked me some preliminary questions and then he let me in. He gave me a brief lecture about how they never do anything like this because they're short handed. We made some small talk, as well. The trip still took about 25 minutes and when he let me out, I shook his hand.

So, my hat is off to the Kitsap County Sheriff's office. They truly go above and beyond. And in full honesty, the only people I was angry at this entire time was those who are in charge of the Kitsap County Metro service. This situation could have been completely avoided if they actually made their service accessible.

Oh, and one last thing: as of this writing, my boots are still soaked through...