Waiting For That Rocket

So. I signed up for #nanowrimo the other day.

For those unfamiliar with it (which I imagine are many of you), #nanowrimo is National Novel Writing Month. The idea is that participants churn out 50,000 words over the course of the month with little regard to editing and just focus on getting the first draft of their novel done.

Writing a novel is something I’ve wanted to do for a while now. I love to write and I think I do it well (feel free to agree :)) so I do believe anything I do will be at least passable.

But (come on – you know me, you knew there was going to be a but) I’m scared witless.

1. My attention span is not so great. Fifty thousand is an awfully large number to stay focused for.
2. When it comes to my writing I have pretty high standards. Spelling, grammar, word choice, organization. These are all high priorities.

I know that #nanowrimo is about production, not content, but I can’t help but wonder how I’ll keep my ADD and OCD in check for an entire month.

So. Today I’m supposed to meet with a woman from the Big Offices Down the Road about why I volunteer. The meeting was supposed to happen 45 minutes ago (according to what I put in my calendar), but I completely own that I may have gotten it wrong based on the fact she’s not here yet. Since she’s not here, I’ve decided I’m going to write about why I volunteer and maybe then I’ll have a coherent thought when I eventually DO meet with her.

So. I try and do a lot in the community. I’m on the planning committee for the Greater Portland Relay for Life. I also take every opportunity to do trail maintenance through work. These activities really only fill a small hole in the need that overwhelms our communities. So. Why do I do it?

One: my parents raised us to give back whatever we could to the community. They have both been active in Rotary for years, participate in whatever philanthropic or volunteer activities through Church, friends, family, and schools they can. They taught us that giving back to the community does not always have to be about money. Time is sometimes an equally valuable resource for an organization.

Two: I have so many blessings in my life. A job I love, friends and family who love and put up with me, and more than the minimum when it comes to material possessions. With all this…Good…around me, who am I to keep it to myself?

Three: People need help. Whether it be cancer survivors/caregivers, folks who don’t have access to trails, or folks who need the services of the United Way, it’s within my power to give (albeit not much) so why wouldn’t I give all that I can?

Four – and perhaps most important: It’s fun. I get to be a part of something huge (Relay) and play in the mud (trail maintenance). The warm and fuzzies are not to be underrated either.

I don’t have a witty and/or brilliant close. Just an entreaty: take stock of what you have in your life. Think about what you wouldn’t be able to do without the help of others. And pay it forward. It sounds trite, but we should never take for granted all that we have, and we should always think about how many people have so much less. It’s our obligation as human beings to do all we can to help.

What is mundane? And why does it have such negative connotations?

My life does not involve jet setting, parties, fame or fortune, but so what? Every day is different than the one before. I’m constantly challenged by my work. I get to give back to my community. I am surrounded by some of the most supportive people I have had the privilege of meeting.

There is nothing “mundane” about my life. Thanks, Rob, for making me think of this.

PS Please remind me of this post next time I’m bemoaning not having a life ;)

I have already at least tried to establish that I am an incredibly associative person. “How to Save a Life” by the Fray automatically transports me to the days following Calvin. “River of Dreams” by Billy Joel now makes me think almost exclusively of the early days of Bard Coffee. “Stretch” by the Ryan Montbleau Band reminds me of going to the driving range with AM, DB and ER.

These are all songs that I have learned to anticipate. I know when I hear those songs I’m going to think of those events.

The toughest part of having so much music coursing through my memory is when I’m caught by surprise.

For years I couldn’t listen to “Run” by Snow Patrol because of the memories it represents/-ed. I have of late been able to reclaim that song, but sometimes those memories come from left field.

I was not expecting to think what I thought. I was not expecting to feel what I felt. And I certainly was not expecting to cry the tears that I cried.

Maybe someday the shock will fade. For now, it’s just on to the next song.