Vocab: A Lost Art?

I've always loved vocabulary - savored it, enjoyed it, played with it (straight up DORK). Unfortunately, since the days of high school and college vocab enhancing activities have dwindled away, I'm left feeling like a child looking to a teacher for answers. Isn't that counterintuitive? I always thought that later in life, in the professional world, I'd be surrounded by people who enhanced my vocab and my grammar. Instead, I find my conversations in the workplace progressing more like this on a daily basis:

BOSS: "Can you forward that e-mail to Sally and I?"
ME: (slightly dismayed, as she has ASKED me to correct this mistake, and I've explained the rule about 100 times. *Sigh* it has apparently not sunk in yet) "Do you mean Sally and ME? Again, just take the other person out of the sentence to determine the correct pronoun".
BOSS: "Haha yes. Sally and Me. Thanks."

Gone are the days that I can practice using those mellifluous words on people who not only appreciate, but understand what I'm saying...ambrosial, burgeon, evanescent, ineffable, nefarious, sagacious. Now, this is NOT to say that I've mastered the English language. In fact, my grasp of the English language is tenuous at best, with my mother gently pointing out scenarios where I may understand the definition of a word, but not the nuance. Well, my mother isn't here, so who's going to correct me?!

I'll keep my rant short, but I feel as if I've lost half of the knowledge that I worked so hard to attain throughout my education. Those fun days of running through stacked index cards, begging me to learn their definitions, are over a decade gone. In fact, if I didn't mind having an allergy attack, I would pull the stack out of the tack-thin rubber band that's holding them together in some corner of the basement and breathe new life into them.

I have to end this blog now, as I'm at work, and technically should be doing or learning something. My boss is calling me...

BOSS "Kristen, can you invite the other Managers and I to the meeting?"
ME: "Managers and...oh NEVERMIND!"

Keeping my Heart in SF

Sometimes I still can't believe that I've lived in San Francisco for 5 years (California for a total of 7). In 2002, I moved out to the West Coast to attend grad school in San Diego; what an absolute culture shock that was! Coming from Boston, San Diego epitomized a lifestyle counter to anything I'd ever experienced. Don't get me wrong, I lived in the lap of luxury in my aunt & uncle's guest house in an esoteric gem of real estate (see Forbe's "most expensive places to live in the USA...Rancho Santa Fe".) Despite the inherent beauty and serenity of that sleepy Ritz town, something was always missing for me.

There were some nights that I cried myself to sleep, yearned to be back East, and longed for the culture that I'd left behind (Red Sox Fanatics, generations of local family ties, Cape Cod, red brick sidewalks, romantic winter fires, etc). It goes without saying that I missed my dear friends and family (I'd never lived more than 100 miles away from home), but there was more behind my discontent. San Diego was a veritable no-man's land to me - a big beach spread out community that stretched on for miles, with nothing reminiscent of a "real" city. Rather than being awoken by a cocophony of garbage trucks and garbage men tossing the recycling bins into the front yard afer disposing of their unwieldy contents, I was softly awoken by the cadence of birds gleefully chirping outside my window. There is an inexorable list of striking contrasts between West Coast Eutopia and East Coast "reality"...and I wanted was excited to leave...WHY?

All along, I thought I was going to return to Boston after grad school. Not only was there the draw of my (now defunct, thankfully) ex-boyfriend, my wonderful family and childhood best friends, but it was what I knew. Furthermore, I wanted to be in a "city"...one with politics, culture, education, diversity, art...LIFE. I had been to visit San Francisco once during the course of the 2 years I lived in San Diego, and I just fell in love with it right away. In addition to being the most beautiful place I'd seen, it had all of the components of a city I yearned for. As soon as I got my Master's Degree, a culmination of factors lead me to realize that if ever there was a time to move to San Francisco, it was then.

I packed up my car with every possession I could fit (see: cram), and hit the road for a 600 mile drive North to my next unknown adventure.
It was a bit of a bumpy start, given that I didn't know a soul in SF and I found a job that required me to travel every single week, however, I hung in there, having enough insight at the time to know that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel if I just gave it that shot. I have come to absolutely love this city like I was meant to be here. The rolling hills, the gorgeous bay, the temperate year-round climate, the unique architecture, the ecclectic culture; all of it lends itself to a life full of exciting things to see, learn and do. I have developed a wonderful circle of friends, my "West Coast family", found an incredible place to live, and savor each and every day I am fortunate enough to be here.

In Kurt Vonneget's famous 1997 MIT Address (that never really was - what a great hoax), "Sunscreen", he advises us to "live in New York City once, but explicitly leave before it makes you hard; momentarily live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.". Of course there are times that I am nostalgic for the East coast, and every so often I wonder if I'll end up back there. For now, however, I have not become too soft, and I am keeping my heart in San Francisco...

Law of Attraction

There is so much to be said about the law of attraction that I can't even begin to do it justice here. However, I do want to write about it a lot more frequently, as it is so relevant to everything I do, say, think or feel. If I've learned one thing at all over the past year, it is that the law of attraction is as real as the law of gravity. Time and again, when I put out positive thoughts and ask the universe for what I want, the universe listens and responds. I'll start capturing these events as they occur, but for now, my thoughts for the day will revolve around this quote from Abraham Hicks, a teacher I just recently got exposed to.

One of the primary LAWS of the UNIVERSE: "If all you did was just look for things to appreciate, you would live a joyous, spectacular life. If there was nothing else that you ever came to understand, other than just look for things to appreciate, it's the only tool you would ever need to predominantly hook you up with who you really are. That's all you'd need."

It is not necessary for even one other person to understand the Laws of the Universe or the process in order to have a wonderful, happy, productive Life Experience — you are the attractor of your experience. Just you!

The First Sign of Spring

It's finally here!! That much anticipated, highly coveted, first day of Spring. Now, living in San Francisco, it doesn't represent exactly the same thing it did growing up in New England, however, it is still my favorite time of the year. Everything just has a brighter aura...colors are lighter, faces are glowing, people are outside - living. Back East, mud puddles flow through the streets, children buy their first pair of white tennis shoes for the season, and green pervades once again; life slowly emanates from every dead branch that previously plagued us through the winter. As much as the New Year is hailed as the time of "new beginnings", spring seems to reinvigorate life, simply by being sprung.

For me, crocus will always mean that I can exhale...winter is over and the sun is enticing me to play, to shine, to live. Consistently, and as surely as the sun will rise, two tiny little crocus pushed their way through the hard soil outside my childhood bedroom window each Spring. At the same time every year, right around my Birthday (which falls at the beginning of Spring), I eagerly awaited the day that I could look out my window and finally see that single purple and single white crocus flourish from their bulb, leaving me tingling with sheer delight at the first sign of their arrival, skipping outside to greet them.

I find comfort in the fact that I could revisit my childhood home today and still see those hardy, beautiful beacons of life spring from the ground; as if we lived in a timeless world where nature soothes our souls and consistently reminds us of its resiliency. Whether spring brought with it a snow storm or the sunshine, somehow, those hardy little crocus never let me down. I am confident those beautiful flowers will keep up their miraculous cycle, and bring joy to some other lucky child, long after my time on this earth has passed.

Footprints in the Sand

One of my earliest and most salient memories has always had a profound effect on me. One beautiful spring day, when I was about 5 years old, I spent hours laboring over a puzzle on my bedroom floor. The puzzle was a photo of the beach at sunset, much like the picture above, with a poem written in cursive called "Footprints in the Sand" (see below). This poem has always tugged on my heartstrings, and it may be because I have such an intense memory connected to it to this day.

After immersing myself in this project for hours (or so it seemed, in my 5-year old mind), there was one particular piece that I could not find a place for - it simply didn't fit anywhere. In my final attempt at making it belong somewhere, I muttered out loud: "God, can you please help me find where this puzzle piece fits?" Literally, in that instant, it was as if some supernatural force picked up my arm and placed my hand exactly where it needed to be. I immediately found the spot waiting for that piece. I know this may sound like a corny and childlike fantasy, but it is as real today as it was when it happened 25 years ago. I ran upstairs, all out of breath and exhilerated, to tell my mother what had happened. To this day, that is the closest encounter I've ever had with a physical experience like that. While I am not religious, I am spiritual, and I believe that some higher power - the energy in the universe, perhaps, manifests itself in our lives in miraculous ways every single day.

On a final note, I recently discovered that the author of this poem, while "previously unknown", is actually a woman named Mary Stevenson. Ironically, my Grandmother's (who passed away in 2006) maiden name was Mary Stevenson. She has always been a very important person in my life, and I miss her dearly. It was touching to discover this connection just last year...a little message from sent from her from up above, maybe?



Footprints in the Sand


One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,
"The times when you have
seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you."

Mary Stevenson

Figuring this out

Throughout my life, I've periodically been determined to write in a journal. Despite my best efforts, I've remained diligent in documenting my thoughts for 2-week periods, at best, leaving the rest of the pages stark and empty. I've often wanted another outlet, an easier one, for capturing all my thoughts, feelings and reflections. This may be just the forum I've been searching for.

While many people create blogs to share and communicate, I haven't decided yet if I'll use this for anything beyond personal reflections. Much of what resonates with me on a daily basis comes out of listening to music, reading a poem or interacting with a stranger. I named my blog "Work in Progress" because I believe that the most desirable condition we can achieve is to recognize that we are all human, all flawed, and can continuously improve upon ourselves to become better versions of who we were yesterday, last week, and last year. In this funny thing called life, I strive to become a more enlightened, self-improved and introspective version of "me" every day.