Reaction Time

I used to feel a lot of anxiety about situations that seemed beyond my control. It was overwhelming. Recently, however, through the process of growing up and learning to relax, I've learned just how in control I really am.

Maybe I can't control what is going to happen to me when I step outside my door (especially when it involves other people) but there is one thing I can control- my reaction. It's been this strange liberating revelation for me- realizing that it's not what happens to me that matters, but how I react to it.

I can relax because I know I react well, with grace and class, to most situations. In the event of one where I won't react so well, I make sure that I communicate with the people around me if the situation can't be avoided.

This blog is a reaction to my life.
It's my choice to publicly react to the experiences of my life, both positive and negative.
Because it is so public, I'm also allowing you (my faithful reader/person who googled "Durkheim" or "strippers in Lawrence") to react to my experiences as well.

I value your reactions. I respect your reactions.
All I ask from you is that you do the same.
Thanks. =)

A Moment of Zen, brought to you by Pier 1

(Disclaimer- This blog is in no way affiliated with Pier 1 Imports. The views expressed within are solely my own...but if my blog makes you want to buy something, I'm more than willing to sell it to you!)



I had my feet anointed today.

No, no sinful women or long hair this time around. Rather I was moving these cute little reed diffusers from one shelf to another when I dropped one. Before I knew it I heard glass break, the scent of Spiced Pear filled the air, the floor was slippery and the caustic fragrant liquid was eating through the soles of my shoes. Ugggghhh.

For some reason lately my anxiety level has been a little elevated. I felt the all too familiar stress-tears well up in my eyes. But my manager, Heather, simply laughed, threw the broken diffuser away and grabbed some paper towels. What could have been a bad situation was quickly diffused (ha ha!) by a wonderful joy-filled co-worker. They're just things...insignificant in the long run.

It got me thinking about my materialism. I joke that everyday that I walk into the store, I spent my paycheck before I get it. I mentally spend it on dining room tables, sofas, dishes, candles and stem-ware...oh the stem-ware!

I believe it was Tyler Durden who once said -"The things you own end up owning you". So I took advantage of a slow day customer wise to reflect on why it is I find myself wanting all these things.

I realized it isn't the things themselves that I want. I know that having things won't make me happy, but it's the potential for situations I see myself in with the things that makes me happy. I want the experiences that go along with the possessions, to have the opportunities the things afford.

Allow me to clarify-

I see myself throwing dinner parties with close friends with fun plates and classy stem-ware. Vegan manicotti and a nice red wine perhaps? Maybe some homemade sushi and miso soup.
I want companionship and thought provoking conversation.

Not to mention all the Buddhas, which make me laugh at the absurdity of paying $150 for an image of someone who swore off his princely life and possessions (and it doesn't even look that authentic).
I want to surround myself with reminders of peace.

And as for the candles...well...I see them lit in intimate situations. When the second bottle of wine is open and the conversation is really good.
I'm craving and clinging to sensual pleasures...sue me. I never said I had this non-attachment thing down. ;-)

So maybe that's how I'll justify my work- I'm not selling things, I'm selling experiences.

Regardless, from now on I will take my time and use both hands when it comes to handling reed diffusers and life experiences. Things will break, life will go on and I will smell like Spiced Pear for the next few days.

Life is good.

PS: If you want to indulge my materialistic side, I'd absolutely love a picnic basket! There's one at Pier 1 called "Zen" (oh the irony) that I crave and cling to everyday. Come on, it's not a possession, it's an experience!