Ruminations of a Pier 1 Pirate

It isn't a good truck day at Pier 1 unless you come home smelling faintly of sewage...
Damn Lawrence sewer system...

Tonight at work I received the perfect opportunity to practice my new "Hey I remember you!" routine, and I didn't even have to pretend because my two of my favorite customers came into work. Interestingly enough, they both have purchased Buddhas from me and actually enjoyed discussing the characteristics of said Buddhas. One of them also happens to look rather like Sean Connery, but that's neither here nor there...

There's so much anonymity in our current culture. I'm guilty of enjoying it (putting on my dark shades and popping in my iPod ear-buds for the short walk to class lest I run into anyone I may know from high school) but maybe it's not all it's cracked up to be.

There's something to be said for walking into a store and having the sales associate know who you are and what you like. There's something to be said for finally feeling appreciated 6.5 hours into an 8 hour shift when a customer finally treats you like a real human being and asks you how classes are going.
Pier 1 might be a corporate store, but that doesn't mean I can't make it feel a little more personable.

In other news, Nate (my brother) and I might actually be the same person...at least when it comes to relationships. Go figure.

Start Where You Are

"Today was enough to make me completely not believe in karma."

That was my exact thought as I sat slumped in a chair in the back office of Pier 1, head and trashcan between my knees. I still had 6 hours to go in an 8 hour shift and I found myself throwing up the cantaloupe juice I'd consumed instead of an apple this morning.

I was only supposed to work 12-5 today, but one of our assistant managers decided to quit and not work her final two weeks. This was the particular assistant manager who I had covered for on numerous occasions, including one where I came in early because she had been throwing up all morning. I normally wouldn't complain, but the pain in my stomach and the burn in my throat made it hard not to think "This is so not fair".

A few hours later I took my 30 minute break and sitting balled up in the office chair focusing on my breath, I couldn't help but think of one of my favorite Buddhist authors- Pema Chodron. Ironically I'd flipped through a copy of O (Oprah's magazine) at Mark's parents' house during our strange estranging last weekend and read an interview that Oprah did with Pema. In that interview Pema talks about pain and suffering and how we desperately try to avoid it, to shut it out when what we really should be doing is the opposite.

"...not staying with the feeling cuts you off from your compassion for others, your empathy for others, and also from the largeness of your own heart and mind"

I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to stay with it. It started simple- I began to think about how many other people in the world were dealing with and have dealt with stomach aches. I thought about how many people are struggling with anxiety, how many individuals are mourning the loss of relationships and love, and I couldn't help but feel compassion grow within me.

Starting where we are, recognizing and fully being present in our own unique experiences allows us to reach outside of ourselves and connect to other living beings. But I also realized just how easy it is to do the exact opposite- to feel pain and cut other people off. I started to understand how people who abuse alcohol or drugs or food are desperately trying to escape an emotional pain and their resulting actions are so selfish. We're so bent on avoiding the hurt that we ignore the fact we're hurting those around us. We're face down and wallowing in the mud of our own self pity.

It hurt to admit to myself that I had been doing that in my relationship with Mark. I was so stuck inside my cloud of anxiety about my own life that I couldn't see much beyond my own nose. I wasted a perfect opportunity for healing, compassion and being awake and instead I chose to make myself and those around me miserable.

There's this trap I fall into whenever I start practicing compassion- I start to realize just how good I really do have it in comparison to everyone else in the world and I start to feel bad for any small amount of suffering I might feel. But tonight I realized that my suffering may be less (empirically speaking), but it isn't any less valid. I can't just wave it off as "Well at least I'm not starving to death" and try to push through and move on. Instead I need to feel it, to acknowledge it and allow myself to learn.

"This encounter, as unpleasant as I'm finding it, is unique. It's never going to happen again in exactly this way. And maybe I'm glad of that but I don't want to waste this moment because it's never going to happen again, just like this. You know, this is—this is the only time I'm ever going to experience this. So let's taste it, smell it. "

I survived my shift, ended my apple fast a few hours early with a lovely bowl of miso soup and now I'm feeling much better. Perhaps this was too personal of a story to be sharing in such an open forum, but I felt the need to post it because I think I only truly understand what it is I'm feeling and thinking after I communicate it with someone else. Maybe something I said reached out to you, maybe not...that's okay too. I just wanted you to know that tonight a lotus bloomed in my murky swamp of a self, and in a way it makes this whole painful experience worth it.

Only 48 Shopping Days Left...

We started playing Christmas music at Pier 1 yesterday.
(*BIG SARCASTIC SMILE*)

Since there are two different versions of "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" on the CD, I was lucky enough to hear it 6 times in my 8 hour shift. Oh and who doesn't love a disco version of "Do You Hear What I Hear" and a jazzed up version of "Jingle Bells"? It's novel the first two times...after that I really just had to stick my fingers in my ears.

Christmas Carols are like hymns to me...very rarely do I stop to actually listen to the words and when I do, I wish I hadn't.

I am now officially creeped out by Santa.
In "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" we learn that Santa "sees you when you're sleeping/he knows when you're awake/he knows if you've been bad or good/so be good for goodness sake". We give Santa this creepy god-like omnipotence, but just as I'm wondering whether or not Santa is sort of a representation for God I hear "Here Comes Santa Clause"-

Peace on earth will come to all
It we just follow the light
So lets give thanks to the Lord above
That Santa Claus comes tonight!

Oh yes...let's thank God that a creepy fat man in a red suit is going to magically squeeze his way down all the chimneys in the world and leave gifts while gorging himself on milk and cookies. Let's thank God for the spirit of consumerism Santa instills in us all. That's surely the way to peace on Earth. Ugh.

It's going to be a long 48 days!

If I ever have kids (as that is a potentiality I have) I'm not sure that I'm going to encourage them to believe in Santa. That's right, my kids will be the ones that make your kids cry in kindergarten when they tell the class Santa isn't real. But maybe I'm just bitter thanks to all the holiday cheer being crammed down my throat through the audio system. I'll get back to you in a few years. ;-)

Opportunity

Last night at work gave me the perfect opportunity to reach outside myself and practice compassion.

I was in a grumpy mood when I showed up for my 1-9:30 shift yesterday. I was going to grit my teeth and get it done, but I was going to grumble my way through it.

Things changed however when I realized I wasn't the only one having a bad day. My friends who were working that night were having it a lot more rough than perhaps I
ever have.

So I took a deep breath and took Thich Nhat Hahn's advice about intentional listening and deep understanding. I can only hope that talking to someone helped them to feel a little better, but I will probably never know. I do know however that it felt good for me to step outside myself and try to genuinely be there for another person. It's an amazing experience when time and the rest of the world slows down and you can mindfully be present with another human being.

I think the hardest part of understanding suffering is understanding (and more so accepting) that not only is the victim hurting, but the one who perpetrated the hurt is suffering just as much if not more so. We like to "otherize" people who hurt us. We don't want to understand or feel compassion for our enemies.

I like the quote on Kat's facebook profile- "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."

Another thought- Sushi four times in the past week. Not only am I spoiled, I'm probably going to get mercury poisoning.

Do you care for tea?
Clean cup, clean cup. Move down!

---EDIT---



Lindsey Dayafter got bored checking out churches and other serene places, so she headed to a place called "Lucifer's Nightclub" or something to that effect to get her groove on. I don't know how long I can continue with this Second Life experiment because I'm already tired of people propositioning me. Get a life people...sheesh.
Oh wait...

I'll be seeing youIn all the old familiar places...

First off let me say- I am not a big fan of "chick flicks". While I do watch them from time to time, I'd definitely prefer a good comedy or sci-fi flick.

However, last night I found myself watching the chick flick to end all chick flicks- "The Notebook".

I thought I could just blow it off, that it would be a nice way to end my weekend stay in Springfield and it would give Marko Polo some time to get some homework done...Nope.

Before I knew it I was sobbing uncontrollably and slow dancing with Mark as the credits rolled.
Damn you "The Notebook". Damn you.

I don't know what it was- my subconscious fear of getting old and senile, the beautiful tragedy that was the love story...who knows? The movie wasn't even that good!

What I do know, and what is good is the beautiful non-so-tragic love story that is my life. It's so wonderful to love without compromises and be loved in return for who I am (even if who I am means sobbing at a silly chick flick). Finally...Love- to be understood, supported and challenged...to feel renewed.

For the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.   -ginsberg

In other news-

Maitreya has come to Pier 1! Well Budai technically, but who really knows the difference anyway? ;-) While I'm still sad that I sold my favorite Amitabha the other day, it's nice to have a smiling face around the store.


Life is good. Very good.

Long Time, No Post

(Photo Credit: Marko Polo)

So apparently I made my Labor Day weekend last a week. Eh. I needed it.

My weekend spent with Mark and his family was great, especially in retrospect after having spent this weekend hanging out at the Pier...1 that is.

Last night at work was pretty awesome. I was the closing manager and the other associate on duty had never worked a real shift before. I became the goddess of my Pier 1 universe- selling things over the phone, training the new associate and keeping my customers happy. What an awesome experience! I was on top of my game and loving it. These are the nights I live for.

But the comfort and enthusiasm were short lived. Having left my little Pier 1 bubble where I "freakin' rule", I hit a wall when I came home and the panic quickly set in.

My life feels bigger than I can handle. There are only so many situations I'll face in my time at Pier 1 and I've been trained to know the answers.

Life, on the other hand, doesn't really come with that sort of training.
I have several important decisions to make in the next couple of years, and right now it's rather daunting.

So I'll take a deep breath, and take it 10 minutes at a time.

First decision to make (and trust me, this won't be easy) is what I should do my MA "area of competency" in...eeeek!

Religion in the Ancient Near East and Mediterranean
Religion in Asia
Religion in the Middle East and North Africa
Religion in Europe
Religion in the USA
Religious Ethics
Jewish Studies
Islamic Studies
Theories and Methods of Studying Religion

The possibilities seem endless. I'm leaning toward Religion in the USA or Asia but really I want put my emphasis in gender studies... Now if only I can figure out a way to roll all 3 of those into one. :-D

I'll keep you posted.

Truck Day Gives Me the Sniffles

No seriously! With all the dust in those boxes from goodness knows where, it's a wonder I haven't contracted SARS...yet.


















When I know I'm scheduled for a truck shift at Pier 1, secretly I'm excited. I will groan and moan with the rest of the staff about how much stuff we have to unload and the truck driver who sweats all over us and I will mutter the occasional "Where the hell am I supposed to put this?" but inside, I'm squealing for joy.

You see, truck days are like Christmas for me. I get to spend all day opening up boxes of merchandise, smelling candles and playing my favorite game- "Where Can I Hide This?". Occasionally I'm rewarded with something as quirky as these golden "Yoga Frogs". Oh Pier 1!

But materialism aside, I like being able to work at work. I like having boxes to unpack, heavy furniture to move and something to get done. I like being able to completely immerse myself in that work. Mindfully (not mindlessly) opening boxes and unwrapping things gives my mind time to rest and gives me the opportunity to be fully present in the moment. This, I realized to day, is the secret to not breaking anything. (I'm horrible about breaking things. It's a miracle I still have a job some days.)

Moments of enlightenment and peace come to me not through sitting, but through doing. (Peanut butter sandwiches) Maybe unwrapping small Buddha heads for 2 hours isn't exactly sweeping the tatami mats at a Buddhist monastery, but it's as close as I'm going to get. And I love it.

So if you come to Pier 1 to see me on a truck day, chances are I won't be at the door to greet you. I'll be in a back corner somewhere, gently unwrapping Crisp Bamboo pillar candles and smelling each one before I set it in the wall.

The Pier 1 Pirate Has Scurvy

Not really...but that just sounds so much more exciting than having heat exhaustion and really bad allergies oh and a touch of grumpiness.

I'm back from camp, I survived and I had a great time!
I'm bug-bitten and sunburnt, but for those kids...it was worth it.

I promise to blog about it soon, but I want to sit down and actually think it through. The transition has been a bit much to handle- going from chasing 8th graders around and then back to the crazy world of Pier 1.

I realized I needed a moment to think and process everything that happened.
I realized this as I awoke from my allergy drug-induced walking coma 12' in the air with a dining chair over my head.
I realized this as I broke some really pretty martini glasses

I need to slow down.
So, dear readers, allow me to take a breath and I will soon regale you with tales of eyeliner, 30 minute relationships, devil children, cheating and killer mosquitoes that you are anxiously awaiting.


PS: Guess who the new assistant manager in training is at Pier 1? Oh yes, that would be me. :-)
It's nice to finally feel appreciated!

Old thoughts for a new blog...

Thank you to those of you who responded to my last post. I appreciate your opinions.
A glass of Riesling and a few Pop-Tarts later and I fired off a reply to the email that was causing me the internal honesty debate. Perhaps I was too brutal, perhaps I was too nice. Either way I feel that my decision to be open about the situation will benefit everyone in the long run.

No more lying to boys. It's time to take my relationships more seriously.
I need another glass of wine.

Pardon me for a minute.

Meanwhile, back at the Pier 1 ranch...

Tonight, I became a Pier 1 pirate. My regional manager, store manager and assistant manager decided it would be a great idea for me to learn how to adjust the spotlights and hang graphic panels. So basically that involves me climbing to the "this is not a step" top of a 12' ladder with a screw-driver in my teeth to brave the red-hot light bulbs and try not to electrocute myself in the process.

Half way through the process I debated singing a few sea chanties just to pass the time.
Bad ass.

During one of my trips up the ladder I overheard my manager talking to the regional manager about how I might possibly be getting an assistant manager position at the end of the summer. Wow. Later, the regional manager complimented me on my willingness to work hard.

This is a throw back to a blog entry I wrote on my last blog (after Dr. Esposito complimented my beautiful karma), but tonight I was reminded just how nice it is to be complimented on my actions. It's easy to tell someone that they're attractive or that the outfit they are wearing looks cute. But beauty fades and clothes will be destroyed by time. Our actions, our karma...that's what lasts. That is what will endure.

I think I'm going to make an effort (again) to compliment others on their actions. Hopefully it will be as meaningful to them as it has been for me.

But if you'll excuse me, I have to go work on deflating my ego a bit.

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!

Step Back and Watch it Flow

This past weekend I took a trip to the Lake to go visit Mark. It was wonderful- the beauty of the lake, the joy of discussion and companionship, a chance to just breathe.

Being surrounded by nature and beauty and getting my feet muddy made me desperately miss being at camp. I feel almost useless this summer. Yes, I have a job at Pier 1 now (for which I am very very grateful)...but just how much am I going to change the world by selling people a $150 ceramic Amitabha Buddha that they think looks "trendy"?

It might seem strange- me, some sort of Buddhist-Christian "mutt" longing to be at church camp, but I'm a Martha. You know-

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" (Luke 10)

I enjoy making preparations, making sure things run smoothly. As much as they drained me, I loved those 10 hour days on the challenge course watching the kids have fun and learn and interact. I loved setting their campfires and tending to them while the camps worshiped. Hell I loved doing dishes!

I want to serve. It fulfills me.

But this weekend I realized that maybe it's time to let Martha rest for awhile. Maybe it's time to discover my inner Mary.

41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10)

It's time to sit and listen...to my friends and family, to those older and younger than me, to those who love and those who hate me.

It's time to listen to myself. To sit quietly and seek understanding.

To listen to God.

It's difficult to keep perspective when there is tragedy and sadness in the world.
But I was reminded this weekend that life really is good and I really am blessed.

Now all I need to do is learn to keep my mouth shut when others are talking...because I never know what amazing things they might have to say...