these posts come from a wordpress blog I kept under a different name during the pandemic.
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I’ve been thinking a lot about minimalism lately. I think I am one. Not in an extreme “I want to fit everything I own in a backpack,” kind of way, but in a, “I don’t buy things that I don’t need,” kind of way.
So. I’ve been trying to form that lifestyle into a fully-formed idea of who I want to be, and how I want the world to be. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts on the topic, watched a couple of documentaries, and read my fair share of Reddit threads and blogs. I have learned that everyone and their dog is a minimalist. Not really. Not the way I think about it. A lot of minimalist content is just the purge part of the binge and purge cycle that is our cultural norm. Marie Kondo is a good example of this.
My other minimalist problem, is that there is no framework for what minimalism means in a community. It is such an individual way of thinking. It is so self-centered, that all of the content for people already living minimally is based around “how do I get my loved one to do it too?” As an individual they have run out of things to “de-clutter,” so they’ve moved on to “de-cluttering” others. It’s all wrong.
To me, a lifestyle choice should be centered around how to better live in a group. I want to be a minimalist so that I can reduce my carbon footprint, so I can increase the time I spend with people I care about, and so I can spend my money on the consumables that make life better for the people closest to me.
I guess I just want people to share more.
To put it simply, wait until the people who want to get off, get off. Stand to the side of the door, so that people can get off the middle. If people have to get off the train to allow others to exit, they have priority when getting back on the train.
If someone behind you needs to get off, you might need to get off. Don’t make someone shove past you. Get off, stand in front of the people trying to get on on the side of the doors, and then take priority once everyone who is getting off is off.
Above all. Don't stand directly in front of the door, staring so intensely at your phone that you can't be bothered with the fact that people are trying to get by you. I will deck you.
Say, out loud, as the train comes to a stop, “coming out.” Then get out. It’s your right to push people if you can’t get out.
Anyway. Here’s a pic of someone’s shoe on the train tracks. I wonder where the other shoe is.
This was written in a Lyft this morning, since the trains needed to stop stopping at my stop due to “police activity” up the line. Big city lyfe.
The fourth album of the Canadian indie rock band Metric, to be clear.
I remember listening to that album, my sophomore year of high school. Every Saturday I would get up before the sun, get on a bus and ride it all the way to whatever city I had a cross country meet in that weekend. When we got there, there was so much going on. Set up the tent, check the times, re-work your race plan, don't forget to drink water, and get a little bit of food down. And then we'd warm up. And I would plug in my headphones to "Fantasies," and I would listen through the entire album while I ran with my team. The ebbs and flows matched where I wanted to be mentally before the race. It builds and builds until "Gold Guns Girls" when I hit my stride. Then it would wind down for a few songs and stretch before "Stadium Love" would put me in just the right head-space to get started. And as the gun went off, and the adrenaline of the start would ware off, I would find myself beating my feet against the ground to the beat of one of the songs. I would try and pick an up-beat song with a fast rhythm to keep my feet moving faster, but some days were "Twilight Galaxy" days.
I bought "Fantasies" yesterday, and played it on my new turn table. That ritual, taking it out of the case, then the sleeve, dropping it onto the table, and dropping the needle, it brought me back to those race days of 2012. Ran or shine, cold or hot, I was running a 20 minute 4k.
Until yesterday, my look back at cross country was a love of the people. I had so much fun with those folks. We'd sing songs about spoiled milk, and had a million inside jokes. And even after a long race, they always were running along the track to cheer me on, even though I wasn't very good.
But I also learned a lot about myself running. It taught to ask for help when I needed it. It taught me my limits, and how far I was willing to push myself, and for what prize. Most importantly, it taught me how there is always something else on the other side of struggle, that that struggle will always be a part of me, and that a good album can help me through it.
Life reflects art. It's not just for paintings or Oscar-worthy movies, or songs. Anything that we create and share can be art, from bus bench advertisements to reality tv, to this crappy blog. And the reflection is in us, individually and as a society.
You are what you read, as proven by the successful polarization of the American political discourse, made by a few prolific actors on each side. You are what you see and hear, as exhibited by the fact the advertising works, no matter how we personally think it isn't working on us.
There is symmetry in everything we do. We reflect everything that we see, or hear, or spend our thoughts on.
I've been thinking a lot about the symmetry's in my life. What I am reflecting out to the world. Who are the people who influence the way I think. Where are the moments when I let my guard down and no longer think critically about what I am consuming.
And I don't think I'm happy with what I'm taking in. So I don't think I will be happy with what I'll put out in the future.
I'm not gunna watch The Bachelor anymore. Is what I'm trying to say. And I am going to start paying to not have adds on Spotify and Hulu.
I love my job. It's hard work, I have to do dumb stuff sometimes, and I occasionally feel a little directionless. But overall I love my job.
But other people, people who have the same job as me and who do the same stuff, but who have been there longer, don't seem too.
It's cool, we all have our opinions about our day to day, but I find it rubbing off on me. I tend to overstate the things I don't like, and downplay the things I do like.
I often find myself thinking of this period of COVID19 as a waste. Just a blank spot in the timeline for me, as well as others. We are just waiting for it to be over so we can so whatever we wanted to do before.
I recognize that I am lucky to just be waiting - to have a job and my health and the health of my loved ones. But that is not what this is about.
When we came into all of this, there was a moment where everyone thought "no more excuses, now you have enough time to do whatever you have been putting off." That went away quickly, because now we are all just trying to survive. But I think I am realizing, I never put off my ambitions. I always worked hard at the thing I wanted to do. Now I want to work on my personal life - and here I am, with all the time in the world to do anything else.
The stage of life I am in is one of exploration. I don't know who I am removed of the constraints that school put on me. I have more time and energy and money and less judgement than I have ever had in my entire life. No friends or family around to hold me accountable to who I was a month ago. I was loving my time with only Anith, who is happy to explore with me. I was in a moment of total exploration of who I wanted to be, and how I wanted to spend the valuable time I have on this earth. Was.
For 9 months I spend 4-5 nights a week out at restaurants and bars, comedy and drag shows. I was experiencing a new city. I was getting to the bottom of what I liked to do with my free time, with the first "free time" in my life. And now I am stuck, in the same place I grew up, with no exploration or growth. No self learning or internal exploration. I feel stagnant.