Tuesday, April 24, 2018

he's the type of man that makes coffee nervous


Sometimes those that some find formidable, I find endearing.
A friend recently commented that one of the parents I know has quite the reputation.
M: "He's the type of man that makes coffee nervous. Just the way he carries himself and those striking blue eyes."
JNET: "I watched him do a staring down contest with his daughter. They were good."
The man strikes fear in a lot of people but not his family and not his friends. At first I thought he was a military man simply posturing out of habit. Nope.
He reminds me of my mom. (Sorry, mom, in case you're reading my post. But you really knew how to play the Chinese tiger mommy SOMETIMES.)
Some people are simply born the way they are, spilling out into the world to be lightning bolts. The smart ones know how to temper themselves while the not so smart ones isolate themselves burning everyone in their path not understanding how to bring balance to relating.
Because of my mom, I find some people that make coffee nervous... endearing.
The common thing they are trying to smite is what they perceive as weakness. I've had my share of staring down contests. Good lightning people don't really want to burn you. They test you to own the moment and not give up so easy. They will love your fiercely and not give up. And yes, they may be annoying being sparky here and there.
You give up too fast, you lose control of your life. You lose control of life, you stop learning. Be a student in the school of life always.
Thank you, Tiger Mommy....in case you're reading this. :)
JNET
PS. In case you are wondering, I discovered the dinosaur house while out on a walk in my neighborhood. I have goofy neighbors!

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

i collect my good memories


My mission is to collect my good memories.

Who will remember the good memories for me?

I frame my memories and let them surround me like the gallery of photos kept on my tables and shelves. I love seeing the photo displays when I visit my friends and my students. Everyone has happy stories. No one displays the ugliest and saddest moments on top of the piano or on the walls. And yet, some savor sad times like choosing black jelly beans from the candy bag. Some people are into that flavor.

I have a collection of bad memories that I am exercising selective amnesia over. They bubble up sometimes. Maybe because I need to learn; glean something yet. Most of the time, I manage to be sensible and not go for a replay. Seriously, if you've sat down to an awful movie that made you realize you lost time you will never regain, why watch it again? That's how I see rehashing bad memories.

I remember a coach once had me take pause when we made a certain breakthrough. She asked me to describe my feeling over the achievement and be present to it. Time seemed to stand still. She was teaching me a lesson on gratitude though she didn't spell that out for me. It was a lesson to experience the moment broadly. It's the difference between looking at a painting versus really looking at the brush strokes and allowing the moment to be amazing.

I made this dragon with my cousins and a dozen new friends we met one particular vacation day. This dragon lifted us from the misery of heat rash we were suffering from. It took us a while to physically acclimate to this place we were born from but had been away from for so long.. Mentally, we wrestled between being petulant and cheerful and managed to not ruin the vacation. We created loads of good memories.

I create and collect my good memories. I hope you have an expansive happy gallery of your own. 

JNET

Monday, April 16, 2018

the lucky day I said no to the lady in a fur coat

1a7def4b-a018-4e0c-ade4-0772e8fc97b2.jpeg

I went down my Boston memory lane and remembered a wonderful day I'd almost forgotten.
We arrived to Symphony Hall late but the box office was heaving. It was a premier show featuring a celebrated opera singer. Our friend had left tickets at will call but for some reason, we never got to will call. I just remember the shuffle of people. A woman in a fur coat approached me and offered to sell me her tickets. I said no thanks and found my fancy ticket scalper amusing.
Soon after she left, a man approached me.
XYZ: "Are you a student?"
My backpack and lack of formal wear might have clued him on. This was my normal symphony attire. I sat in the house during the free rehearsals as well as attended the occasional concert.
XYZ: "Today is your lucky day. My daughter got accepted to college and I'm leaving the concert early to celebrate with her. You and your friend are my guests."
We followed him through the crowd, through passageways. It happened fast and like a dream. When we finally reached our seats, I found we were on the balcony just over the percussion section. We were looking at the conductor's face and not his back. Conductor Seiji Ozawa!
I never caught the man's name who graciously gifted two students that night with amazing balcony seats. He disappeared to celebrate his daughter's college acceptance. I write this story to never forget good people are in the crowd. Out of chaos; wonderful things come. I send my thanks to the universe for this man and the memory.
JNET