Unsent

The nice thing about going through a major life transition is that it provokes you to do a massive clean-up in all aspects of your life.

Wallets get re-organized.

Email boxes get streamlined.

Underwear gets triaged and replaced.

Kitchen cupboards get emptied and repapered.

Much has been done so far in the great sweep of winter 2009. I even got new pajamas. But the most entertaining part of this process (other than the retail therapy) has been finding unsent letters. Two so far in the last week.

The one I found in my email account was written at the end of a relationship, and it described my non-negotiables for future boyfriends. The tone was firm, but a little sad too.

The second, found in my draft blog posts, is a long tirade written after another man told me that men find me intimidating because I'm smart. It's fairly accurate to say I was angry in that one. *ahem*

I won't divulge the contents of these unsent letters, after all they were written for cathartic purposes. They were never written to be read. I only scanned them myself. It seemed almost too personal. Like I was reading the private words of another woman.

Nonetheless, I didn't delete them. There's no chance that I'll ever publish them, but I figure they'll be good reminders if ever I need them.

So do you have unsent letters? Why are you holding on to them? What are they an important reminder of?

I feel guilty. Can I bake you something?

In the past, whenever I lost it with a project manager (or two, or three... ahem), I would generally apologize the next day by making them the most delicious lemon loaf ever. Not only was it an effective way of saying sorry, but it also made them less reactive during my next (inevitable) temper tantrum over preposition use.

It's a damn fine loaf!

Since I only have three days remaining at 90 Degres, the guilt over leaving my darlings is heavy. I'm going to miss them very much. To show my love and appreciation, I baked them vegan gingerbread cookies (in the pic) and toasted coconut shortbreads.

I think they were well received.

So I quit my job today, Part deux

An obvious topic of discussion this week has been why I quit my job, some of the factors that led to the decision, etc. But the most remarkable thing to note is that - without exception - the reaction to my news was, "Congratulations!"

Every single time.

Friends, family, colleagues, yoga buddies and other teachers have all been unanimous in their excitement and support. At first, I worried that it was forced enthusiasm - that they were acting happy to keep me from freaking out.

But no, it's all real -- and it confirms my belief that this is the right move for me right now. So thanks buddies!

So I quit my job today

My friend Dina summed it up best, "A wise woman knows when to pick up her pencil and go".

Today, I officially handed in notice at 90 Degrees and negotiated my last day of work - Friday, December 18. Although I'm going to miss my coworkers, it was obvious to all that I was no longer engaged with my work.

The only thing I'm worried about is... who's going to water the plants?

What's next:

• Writing.
• More yoga teaching. A return to tango.
• Returning bravely to the freelance world.

Wish me luck!

Sharing some fun stuff

Sorry for the long silences recently - I've been very engaged in reorganizing my entire life lately. Have emptied the closets of doubts, triaged the obstacles and dusted off the self-confidence. But more on that later.

In the meanwhile, here's a little roundup of fun blogs, photographers and Twitter peeps that I've recently enjoyed.

Blogs

• Curious about the evolution of yoga? Go visit Roseanne on It's all yoga, baby. Not only does she write thoughtful commentary on how yoga is being interpreted today, but she also has links to the hottest yoga bloggers on the Web today.
• For those of you exploring your role as a yoga teacher, you may also want to pay Brooks Hall a visit.
• Waxing & waning is written by a young woman in Toronto. She doesn't publish very often - but when she does, it's usually heart-wrenching poetry that strikes chords in me every time.
• If you read French, check out Nicolas Ritoux's blog. He's currently travelling across Asia and publishes plenty o' photos.

Speaking of photos

• Thanks to Twitter, I discovered EvaBlue's photostream on Flickr. If you love music, check out the "Showcase" snaps. She's also one of the only people on Twitter with an "assatar".

And inevitably, we come to Twitter:

• ShitMyDadSays and ClientsFromHell are ongoing favourites. If you're not on Twitter yet, follows like this might convince you.

And one last thing...

• If you like listening to stories, subscribe to the This American Life podcast. Every week, host Ira Glass brings a series of stories told be real people revolving around the same theme. Last week they had this excellent segment on supernatural experiences with birds. Entertaining stuff.

That is all for now!

Social thuggery

The LA Times recently published a compelling piece of commentary by Amy Alkon. In it, she writes that screaming children, loud cell phone talkers, and other disruptive people are committing acts of "social thuggery" that "steal our attention" and "wear away at our patience".

Alkon does make some very good points and she exaggerates a few, but the 236 comments that follow the article fall on both sides of the argument.

It just got me thinking about an incident on the metro last week.

I was riding home on the orange line - running a mild fever and burrowing my head into my elbow to lessen the pounding in my temples. A young couple parked their monster-sized stroller right behind me. I wouldn't have noticed but their young son started screaming as soon as the train rolled forward.

Piercing, high-pitched screams that had me on the verge of tears -- and with eight stops to go.

It quickly became obvious to me that the child only screamed while the train was moving. The father's reaction? Negotiating with the two-year old. Other passengers on the train started to get twitchy.

Finally, the mother, who was sitting in a single seat nearby, stood up and brought her son a bottle of milk. There was a tangible release of tension in the car.

What if we occasionally stopped to observe the situation and assess the needs of someone other than our self? The father was embarrassed and wanted his son to stop screaming. He didn't really understand why the child was screaming. The boy's mother, however, was far more attuned to her son's discomfort and the discomfort of those around them.

Same thing with loud cell-phone talkers. Have you ever noticed that most of their conversations begin with, "Nothing much, just waiting in line for coffee." They're on the phone because they're bored and they don't really understand how disruptive their meandering one-sided conversation is disturbing the peace of others.

Observe. Assess. Act accordingly.

Maybe?

I love my mother a lot

I really do. I look like her side of the family. I inherited many of her traits. No one loves me more. She's always the first one to offer help - no matter how large the task.

Even if she throws out the occasional brilliant comment like - "Is it that you don't want a boyfriend?" or "Wouldn't it be great if you moved back home?" - she's still my mommy.

Yesterday night we were on the phone.

Ma: I was speaking to your Aunt Franca (in the photo) last Sunday . She was asking about you.

Me: That's nice. What did you say?

Ma: That you were busy at work, as usual. That's it!

That's when it hit me. My mother knows very little about my life. She knows the general outlines, but things that are important to me aren't important to her.

For my mother, highlights are health, employment, real estate, marital status, having children.

If I was to sum up my life, there would be a lot more to say:

• I write stuff. I make up stories in my head and I write them down and they're good.
  
• I really love teaching yoga and it's becoming an important part of my life.
• I have vast community of friends, fellow artists and colleagues who support, inspire and love me every day.
  
• I'm a good copywriter but am excited about transitioning into online community management.
• I love movies and music and dance - especially ballet, tango and contemporary.
• If I could do stuff over and pick a new career, I would be a dancer and dance for Hofesh Schecter.
• Nothing makes me heart beat faster than a smart boy with a nice pair of glasses.
• I'm becoming a fabbo vegetarian cook.

All of these small things make my life an endless source of wonder, but they only have minimal register with my mother. We are two creatures born in different times, with different experiences, but I still wish there was a way I could communicate even some of this to her in language she could understand.