Losing (My) Control Over Things…

I am what I am...
I am what I am…

I tend to treat my emotions like I play poker: conservatively. I do the same thing with cognitive dissonance. Perhaps it’s part of my “nineness.” I am happiest when everything is in balance and at peace. (Is it ever?) When peace and balance is broken, I have three stages:

  1. Ignore it until it goes away.
  2. If it can’t be ignored, fix it.
  3. Explode.

My capacity for stages one and two has a pretty high bar. My goal is to be as zen as possible. In seminary I learned some skills; how to see myself in others and to see others for themselves; how to choose between judgment and compassion; how to (try) and let go.

Boom.
Boom.

These have all served me well over the years. However, the problem is when stage three is reached: the explosion. Too much pressure over time without release ends badly for all involved. Usually it’s just a little thing that sets off the explosion; in this case it was fruit flies.

Full disclosure: I harbor a deep seeded dislike and fear for 99.9% of insects. (.1% reserved for butterflies) However, I have a healthy respect for what they do for the ecosystem. If given the choice I just gently remove them from my vicinity instead of killing them. A face full of fruit flies is not so much a choice as it is born from a sub-circle of hell.

Just one more little twist should do it...
Just one more little twist should do it…

Before the explosion, there was the buildup.

Our house was broken into. You can read all about that here.

We’ve been hosting a friend over the last few months. I love him like a brother and am blessed that we can help out. Heather and I have a policy that we share what we have with our loved ones. The challenge is that having a long term guest breaks our routines and strains some resources. Plus he has a cat.

I understand that pets are, emotionally, like second children. I look at our own dog Leia and couldn’t imagine life without her. A second animal in the house takes some getting used to. She is a great little cat; but being a cat means she abides by her own sense of behavior. It means new boundaries and adjustments, like making sure she doesn’t sneak outside or eats the dog’s food.

We found out the dog has fleas.

Truth.
Truth.

Then there’s the household chores, work, etc.

The list goes on ad infinitum. I can usually shoulder most, if not all, of it under normal circumstances. What changed is Seattle’s weather. Most notably, it’s warmer and drier than normal weather. This caused allergy season to go from “normal” into “extreme.” Last year, I had very mild allergies. This year, I have been a miserable wreck. Constant sinus misery is my kryptonite: it completely breaks my calm and collected self. It causes my dissonance meter to malfunction and small things suddenly become BIG things.

death to the human!
death to the human!

So when I picked up the kitchen compost and a bunch of fruit flies exploded in my face, I exploded. All over my poor wife. It’s because she was there and because she’s emotionally available to me. This wasn’t a “break all the things” and “somebody call the police” breakdown. It was more of a seething, rolling, uncontrollable wave of frustration. The more I tried to hold back, the angrier I became. She was afraid I was going to hurt the dog. (which I would NEVER do no matter how angry I was) But I can understand how scary it must be to see me lose it.

Done.
Done.

In the moment, all the little things that cause me irritation and annoyance became targets. I blamed myself, my wife, my friend, the dog, the cat, and everything else I could for not doing enough to make things “perfect.” The emotional volcano had erupted.

And it kept on erupting. I had no control over it. Every time I would try and relax and take a step back, I would just get angrier. The catharsis had to run its course. I had to just BE angry. So I was… for 24 hours. I didn’t tell my wife I loved her, I couldn’t stand the thought of talking to friends. Truthfully, I was not myself.

Finally I was able to just let go and be normal again. Part of it had to do with me finding some allergy medicine that worked. The other part was making a difficult but conscious effort to just calm the frak down. Then I was able to make up with my wife, get some chores done and work on feeling balanced. Eventually I felt more in control of my whole situation.

If only it were this easy.
If only it were this easy.

The reality is most control is an illusion. I just need to find better, more constructive ways of dealing with irritations. I need to deal with issues head on instead of letting them build up. I need to mitigate my emotions rather than keep them dammed. I have to accept I am a work in progress and pay better attention to the “under construction” signs.

Taking some (camping) time out…

Yay camping!
Yay camping!

Heather and I just took some time out to go camping. It’s an activity we both enjoy. It gets us out into nature. It allows us to spend some time with each other without being distracted by technology or chores. Plus we have some really great camping equipment. All this is a recipe for a good time. Our destination: a three day trip into Olympic National Park.

Nature Heather loves nature!
Nature Heather loves nature!

 

 

On reflection, we completely over packed the car. I recently learned an important rule of packing; when you finish, go back and take out half of what you put in. I’m going to abide by this from now on. Thankfully we didn’t have to hike into (and out of) our camp site. We decided to camp on the beach right outside of La Push, WA. We had never been to the Olympic Peninsula and wanted to see the Pacific Ocean.

Why to they sparkle...
Why to they sparkle…

 

Quick note: Apparently La Push (and nearby Forks) were the settings used by Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series. Consider yourself warned.

Happy Subaru is happy!
Happy Subaru is happy!

Sparkly vampires aside, the five hour trip from Seattle was beautiful. We took the northern route, which included a ferry but cut a good hour (and 100 miles) off of the travel time. I highly suggest this option; there is something about traveling along a coast that makes time go by quickly. It reminded me of the PCH, with twists and turns along tall cliffs and sporadic beaches. Once again, the beauty of Washington State keeps on upping the bar.

I would definitely do this again!
I would definitely do this again!

After a slight 15 mile detour (I misread the map) we arrived at our campsite on First Beach, hosted by the Quileute tribe. It took about 20 minutes to get set up. Thankfully the weather was mostly cooperative and we were able to get the rainfly up just in time for a brief shower. The weather for the trip called for scattered showers and temps between 55 and 65 degrees. This may seem to be a bit miserable for a camping trip but it wasn’t that bad. Olympic National Forest is primarily a temperate rainforest, which means that it’s just part of the experience.

Justin is such a fungi! (lulz)
Justin is such a fungi! (lulz)

The first night we enjoyed a walk along the beach, homemade brew from the cooler, and an unexpected fireworks show due to a wedding being held nearby. The next morning, we made coffee, bacon and eggs. After fortifying ourselves with camp food, we headed off for Third Beach. It’s a three mile round trip hike to a beautiful beach of driftwood and sand enclosed by cliffs. I took time to go agate hunting and Heather gathered up debris from the Japanese tsunami.

The ocean is mighty!
The ocean is mighty!

 

 

 

 

We then went to Rialto Beach. This site offered a much longer coastline (and much better agates) but was more crowded by tourists. After another three miles of walking, we took a break for some lunch (sandwiches) and returned to camp. The weather was much warmer with sunbreaks so I laid back for some reading. Heather took off to explore more of the beach to the south. When she returned I unloaded our firewood, dug out a fire pit and got some coals going.

Crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside...
Crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside…

We took another walk along the beach, giving me the chance to scale a rocky pier out into the bay. When we returned to the tent, I put more wood on the fire and we prepared foil packets of ribs, onions and potatoes. Sealing them up we put them in the coals and 45 minutes later enjoyed a delicious meal accompanied by some Chilean Carménère wine. Dessert, of course, were smores! Well-fed and well boozed, I passed out in front of the fire, only to be roused by Heather to come to bed.

So many sea stars! (NOT starfish)
So many sea stars! (NOT starfish)

The next morning the wind began to pick up which caused us to break camp earlier than planned. This gave us a chance to get a head start to visit the tide pools at Second Beach. This was overall the best part of an already beautiful trip! We timed everything perfectly to arrive right at low tide, giving us access to some great beachcombing and (gentle) marine life petting. Two hours later we began the trip back home.

Heather at the Washington State Capitol building!
Heather at the Washington State Capitol building!

 

We decided to take the southern (and longer) route back to Seattle. Heather wanted a brief stop in Olympia, WA so she could see the Capitol building. Taking advantage of the stop, we had lunch at the Fish Tale brewpub, connected to Fish Brewing, and consumed salmon and chips with gusto! Unfortunately we didn’t time our return trip very well; we ran into 5pm Seattle rush hour traffic.

Remember: beer is a key part of any successful trip!
Remember: beer is a key part of any successful trip!

 

 

 

Overall, this was an amazing (and overdue) trip. Heather and I made the commitment that from now on, we will use her birthday to do some camping in different parts of Olympic National Park. My only regret is that we couldn’t make it into a week long trek. There is so much more to see along the Olympic Peninsula, I suspect we will never exhaust its sights and wonders.

Why we (should) celebrate Memorial Day

Happy national grilling day!
Happy national grilling day!

Yesterday I was shopping in our local grocery store. The shelves were lined with American flags. Signs shouted discounts on hot dog buns and grilling supplies. Cakes were decorated with stars and stripes. Everything shouted, “America, f-yeah!” Now buy all the stuff!

This isn’t surprising. However, I can’t remember Memorial Day being so consumerly coopted like 4th of July, Halloween or Christmas. The day was always set aside to remember men and women who died for our country. Its meaning should be immune from our usual gluttony and debauchery. It is a “memorial” rather than a “celebration.”

Every time I see this I am moved to tears
Every time I see this I am moved to tears

Memorial Day serves as a reminder to me; that people routinely give their lives serving community and country. I want to believe this ultimate price was paid, not so I could have a three day weekend, but so I could live in peace and freedom. It is inspiring, humbling, and motivating. It is in many ways sacred.

Our military men and women have high ideals to live up to. They are Christ figures: called to serve others before they serve themselves, to protect human life and dignity, help the weak because they are strong, and perhaps have to die so others may live. It is not an easy job and comes with a heavy burden of responsibility and commitment. They must live the life of a hero.

What inspires you?
What inspires you?

They inspire me to do the same. I may not be called to military service; that ship passed me by. But I can still live my life by the ideals I like to believe these men and women died for: justice, liberty, and freedom in the spirit of community and country.

This does not mean the selfish, Darwinian freedom of the anarchist or the libertarian. It is not inspired by the justice of the dictator or the divine ruler. It is not motivated by the liberty from responsibility or duty. Memorial Day reminds me to be the same kind of servant leader the best of our military men and women are. In service to ALL Americans, wealthy and poor, strong and weak, educated and simple.

Sacrifice as an ideal..
Sacrifice as an ideal..

This means making willing sacrifices for the good of my community and country. Volunteering my free time rather than sitting in front of the television/computer for hours every day. Being frugal with my resources; living simply and in balance with others and with the environment. Giving away my excesses to those who are struggling. To be compassionate to the stranger and respectful to others. Finally, being willing to die so that others can live in peace.

Not in vain; your sacrifice meant something to me.
Not in vain; your sacrifice meant something to me.

This is what I believe our military service men and women are called to do, and I am inspired to do the same. This is the United States of America I believe in and that I want to protect. A nation of people who are servant leaders, inspiring the rest of the world, not to be better consumers, but to be better citizens and neighbors. Call me naïve, idealistic or crazy. But if Memorial Day serves as a yearly motivator not to take my own freedom and liberty for granted, and pushes me to be a better human being and citizen, then maybe we need a little more naivety and idealism and a little less hot dogs and grilling supplies.

(Maybe) Not giving into hate…

Have you seen one of these men?
Have you seen one of these men?

Last week our home was broken into. The thief/ves stole all our electronics (laptops, tablet), a watch Heather’s father gave me, and Heather’s grandmother’s pearls. Oh, and my gym bag. (again) Our dog was safe and sound. There was no damage to the house. As far as burglaries go, our robber/s were pretty courteous. Cleanup was minimal; the only lasting impressions being dust used for taking fingerprints (almost impossible to remove­–they don’t tell you this on CSI) and overwhelming feelings of vulnerability and violation. The scariest part: they left the kitchen carving knife on the dresser in the master bedroom as if to say, “We could have killed you if we wanted to. Don’t worry, be happy.”

True story.
True story.

My last blog post dealt with the rear of our car being smashed in. This latest event was far more intimate and expensive. I had taken the last week off of work as a little staycation in which to relax, catch up on some reading, play some games, and decompress from an overwhelming Spring. Instead, I spent it dealing with insurance agents, reporting serial numbers to manufacturers, looking into ways of tracking down stolen technology, and being obsessed with home security. I found it to be just as stressful as April, in which I helped execute a 1600 person 3-day conference, and not as rewarding. Not only was I violated and stolen from, I was robbed of my vacation.

NO!!!!
NO!!!!

I was not expecting so many conflicting emotions. All that was taken from us was “stuff.” (not something I am a fan of) But it was more than physical objects; a sense of security and safety was stolen too. Photographs and documents are gone that will be impossible to replace. I am struggling with letting these things go, refusing to believe I will never get them back. Why can’t I be the man willing to let go of material possessions­–why am I deeply injured by their loss?

Additionally, my mind has been obsessed with “what if”.

“What if we had been home?”

“What if they had killed the dog?”

“What if they steal our identity?”

“What if they come back?”

Am I becoming a Republican?
Am I becoming a Republican?

I don’t like leaving my house to run an errand only to have my mind occupied with whether or not our house is being broken into again. It’s maddening and I don’t know how to make it stop. All I want to do is sit in a corner with a shotgun, making sure intruders stay out. I know this is impossible. Heather and I have lives to live; friends to see, birthdays to attend, places to visit. I feel held hostage by an obsession to protect what is mine. I feel powerless to lift this dead weight in the pit of my gut when I lock my front door.

Yeah, my law is looking pretty good right now, isn't it sukka?
Yeah, my law is looking pretty good right now, isn’t it sukka?

Finally, I have been indulging in feelings of revenge and vigilante justice. This is not me. I believe in a fair and just democratic system and rule of law. I want our penal system reformed to be more rehabilitative rather than punitive. I want to be compassionate and enlightened in how I respond to people who hurt me. I want to turn the other cheek; I want to forgive.

Yet, I put a knife on my nightstand. I’ve daydreamed of catching the criminals and making them pay. I’ve fantasied about finding them and hurting them badly. More than once I reveled in cutting off their hands in some reenactment of Babylonian law. This event brought out dark desires that sicken me as much as they excite me. I never thought I would crave to hurt a human being so viciously and be willing to reject all my high ideals and humanity to make up for $3000 worth of stolen “things.”

Yoda says not to give in to hate... and Yoda's cool, right?
Yoda says not to give in to hate… and Yoda’s cool, right?

I am not the first person to go through this. I know my emotions will fade and life will return to normal. I have learned to be more mindful of my family’s safety and security. I hope to accept the loss as a lesson in humility, letting go and overall forgiveness. Yet, I don’t know how long the feelings of bitterness and revenge will last. I don’t know how long I will sleep with a knife by my bedside and wake in the middle of the night wondering if somebody is walking uninvited in my home.

I hope not long.

Violated in the rear…

Poor little Subaru...
Poor little Subaru…

Last weekend our car was vandalized. At 6:00pm on January 26th, some friends and I walked into the Jolly Roger Taproom in Ballard. Within 40 minutes the Subaru’s rear window was smashed in. The only thing taken: my gym bag. Items inside the bag: decrepit sneakers, sweaty clothes, 1 pad lock, headphones. Bastard deserves the reeking odor inside for violating my Outback in the rear.

I don’t care who did it or why. I only hope they get caught. Heather and I have the resources to take care of the damage. The cost of the rear window was $1000. Our insurance paid half. Many families cant afford an emergency repair like that. For us it was an expensive inconvenience.

Phoenix Jones, where were you when I needed you?!
Phoenix Jones, where were you when I needed you?!

Just for the record, we are definitely not rich. Just frugal and lucky.

Everybody deals with being violated differently.  I was calm and collected. My wife wanted to cut a sukka. I did entertain the thought of contacting local super hero Phoenix Jones. It might help to get a little vigilante justice out of my system. Then I thought better of it. I’m not as tough as John McClane or crazy rich like Bruce Wayne.

Don't mess with these vicious vigilantes!
Don’t mess with these vicious vigilantes!

Besides, late nights in the cold and rain may be great for Batman. I prefer a warm bed and a sexy wife. So if it’s a toss us between getting my Charles Bronson on or curling up with the wifey, the wife wins every time. Which means that I did my civic duty: I told the restaurant manager about the incident, filed a police report, called our insurance, and then scheduled a time for the window to be fixed. Net loss: $500.

I am now even more wary about where I park my car. Not that hyper vigilance is 100% asshole proof. But it helps. Don’t park your car at the beginning or end of a row. Make sure it’s parked in a well lit, visible area. Keep valuables out of sight. Invest in a good car alarm.

These are things I knew already but just didn’t think about until somebody smashed in my car window to steal a sweaty gym bag. I’m just happy they didn’t take the ipod in the front seat…

Learning how to share all over again…

Share all the tools!
Share all the tools!

One of my goals for owning my first home is to keep it free of stuff. This includes the garage. Unfortunately, the garage is already filling up with things. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, living spaces seem to follow the same rules. However, Heather and I found a remedy for our unnecessary accumulation: The NE Seattle Tool Library!

I didn’t know what a tool library was until my wife enlightened me. It’s a common place where people donate tools for public use. Not just hammers and hand saws, but power tools and plumbing supplies and electrical equipment. A whole garage full of crafty goodness, plus a bike repair station and in house large equipment woodworking area. All for a yearly membership fee of $20!

It's like a free hardware store!
It’s like a free hardware store!

It’s based off of the premise of shared resources. Home improvement equipment can cost on the upwards of thousands of dollars. Not to mention the amount of space tools take up gathering dust when not being used. Let’s be honest, unless you’re a hard core manly-man who lives and breathes Home Depot, you might pull out a cordless drill twice a year to do an odd project. Or an emergency comes up and you run down to Ace Hardware for $400 worth of supplies that you may never use again. Very inefficient and wasteful!

Work on your bike at the bike station.
Work on your bike at the bike station.
Shelves of crafty items!
Plenty to choose from at the tool library…

If the community comes together and pools its resources, suddenly you have a plethora of equipment that can be checked out and returned with a common storage space. No more cluttered garage and unused items. Beyond just things to use, there are instruction classes and an information library. Everything you need to repair your sink, sand your deck, or build that brand new arcade cabinet you always wanted! Everyone wins!

This is a big push towards a shared resource economy. Another similar idea (and one that may be implemented at the tool library) is time banking, where people make agreements to share skills. A doctor trades 1 hour of medical service to a family for 1 hour of childcare. A plumber trades 1 hour of plumbing service to a carpenter for 1 hour of carpentry. The importance isn’t on profit but connection.

Ridesharing, couchsurfing, and community gardening are all ways that people across the U.S. are coming together to form closer, more sustainable relationships. It’s an extension of the commons… a public space that is a resource for the whole community and is taken care of by the whole community. A reverse on the trend of resource hoarding; taking as much as you can as fast as you can before someone else can take it.

Come visit the NE Tool Library today!

Heather and I recognize that we have more space than any two people really need. In order to be responsible stewards for this space, we’ve decided to make our space productive. By converting our yard into a growing area, we can produce food not only for ourselves but friends and neighbors. We are constantly on the lookout for ways to be more sustainable and sharing oriented in our new home ownership!

If any of this sounds awesome, look around to see if there are groups and organizations nearby engaging in resource sharing. If not, start one! All it takes is a few people deciding to share with each other to get the idea off the ground.