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Philadelphia Row is a term used, not only in Philadelphia neighborhoods, but elsewhere to refer to orderly rows of regularized housing.  
But there is nothing orderly or regular about any of the goings on in a Philadelphia Row.


READ SOME FICTION

Introspection and Value

5/21/2014

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Putting together a resume and asking others to take a shot at the skills making one a potential valuable part of their organization is, in a word, exhausting.  It is exhausting emotionally and intellectually. 

My therapist revealed to me that I have a difficult time both with people unable to see my value and also noticing it.  I want to be recognized for the job I do, but without spotlight.  In other words,  I feel when I deserve accolades  I have the expectation to receive them with discretion.  

And it occurs to me now that with these two very different ideas, I subject myself to teetering in the middle - and mediocrity is something I cannot stand in the least! 

So, I'm looking at the things I have done in my life and putting it on paper for others to see with the intention of pointing out the exemplary job I've done.   It's complete boastful exposure.  But if I don't highlight my best work and demand value, no one will see it and give it to me.  

I have this askew expectation that I will be treated fairly without demanding it until the situation is so far unbalanced, I'm gasping for air as others are holding me under the water so they may float above me.  

And in looking at this resume - this snapshot of what I have achieved in my life, I beat myself up for not having more - not having more financial, emotional and intellectual stability.  I beat myself up for not having a stronger foundation and a greater voice because somewhere, I feel like there is a match to the efforts I'm putting in to my life.  But then I'm reminded of the unbalance wanting accolades with an unannounced discretion.  And that's not how it works.  If one wants to achieve greatness, they need to have a grand and mighty voice and presence.  But also, they must be strong enough to receive and display the honors bestowed upon them for such exemplary behavior.  Without having the strength to receive these valuable things, there is a diminished value set upon the worth of oneself.  And when one does not feel worthy, one cannot be worth anything to others. 
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Kintsukuroi

5/20/2014

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Kintsukuroi is the art of lining broken things with gold to show the beauty in the broken bits. The things that tear us apart truly make us grow.  

In Reconstructing Edward, I wrote about this process with something physical and I hope that my Edward understands that although he did not fall to pieces, he was pretty broken just walking around this world.  

I have done my fair share of tearing things and people to pieces.  I'm not sure I've ever gotten out the gold and epoxy to repair anything I have broken.  It is in my nature to leave the wreckage and move on.  I think it is because I'm grasping on to my own broken pieces and trying not to lose any more of myself.  

Last night, I needed the cracks and defects of me to be stuck together.  I found the gold lining and the glue right on my sofa.  It was unexpected and truly made me shine from within. 

Today, I'm trying to not be so broken, but that's not really how broken works.  The word vouchsafe is defined as giving freely and taking gladly.  Perhaps today, I will just try to keep the word vouchsafe in my thoughts and take what is offered to me and give what I can - even if it is broken pieces of me.  

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Knowing the Janitor

5/17/2014

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The last post from me was a struggle.  I attended my daughter's graduation and felt full of words to share.  However, by the time I got to a computer, my brain had filed away everything I had wanted to share in the recesses of my memory.

It has been my experience that my memory works with pin pricks and gaping holes.  I remember a scant bit of something - an aroma, a color in my periphery or a word without knowing the voice OR a flood of every detail and hours of replay footage distracting me from the matter at hand.  Nothing in between.  

So, here is a look into the the pin pricks of my memory: 

During the graduation, it was said to know both the president and the janitor.  After sharing his anecdote about the hard work he did and milestones leading to becoming the director of a prestigious dance company, he reminded us to remember those things that bring us to the place in which we find ourselves at the very moment we reflect on our past.  His advice was to know both the president and the janitor; because knowing the president of the dance company provided him with the opportunity, but knowing the person with the key was as important.  

Now I must admit that I'm not sure if he was being metaphoric or literal.  Like I said in my previous post, I had a ton of stuff I was trying to remember for later use and then my memory stuffed away the information without letting me explore the depth of the words.  

This morning I have to get myself to my office to clean up a mess that happened months ago.  (It is the nature of my job.)  I have no recollection of the things that happened to make the mess, but the mess remains and must be cleaned up.   In other words, I haven't a clue where to begin.  Honestly, this is the last thing I want to do with a sunny Saturday; but there is no more time for me to push the mess aside and pretend it does not exist.  And I am hoping the pin prick of memory opens wide to help me in sorting through it.

I've heard in my life, there is nothing so messy it cannot be cleaned up.  However, when you're in the mess, it's a pretty daunting task to begin that first sweep.  But knowing the folks who can help you clean up is a pretty big deal.  Knowing the president who may walk in with accolades that encourage folks to be a greater part of the organization is great; but knowing the janitor who may walk in and help you sweep up all the messes made along the way is the key that provides strength to keep going.
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Little Pomp and Much Circumstance

5/16/2014

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Graduation season brings with it inspiring adages and anecdotes about looking forward and the fortunes on the horizon for graduates.  We all are subjected to the positivism.  And for a moment, there is a feeling that anything is still possible in our lives.  

But earlier this week, during the most lively and enjoyable graduation I have attended to date, there were two things that struck me as truly inspirational.  And, it was messages that seemed contradictory to all the other messages I had ever heard in my school career and in the experiences I have had as a parent with children in school.
  
First, an alumnus spoke and said something very simple in his message.  To paraphrase, things are not easy sometimes.  The objective of his message was to encourage the graduates to receive support when they need it and offer support for future students through the alumni society.   He said that when he was sitting in the chair waiting to receive his diploma fourteen years ago, he felt lost.  All around him people were telling him that he was on the brink of success.  He told the crowd today that he realized then he most certainly had not been on the brink of success.   He was in fact on a long winding path to success and was not sure if he had achieved success still today.   Second, receiving an honorary doctorate from the university, another guest speaker spoke of his success with another perspective.  In all the milestones of his life dating back as far back  as he could remember, he felt he was a success. 

Speaking from experience, I know more people who had felt uncertainty before graduation than those who felt sure the work they had been doing would be the foundation for their careers.  

The second speaker had so many inspirational phrases and messages he was sending out, my head was trying to take note of his words so i could remember them later and then he said the thing that sunk in and stuck with me.  You can't look forward.  You can only look back.  

Two very odd messages during the pomp and circumstance of sending younglings out into the world with little to no experience and the expectation to take on the world with verve.  

First, it's a long and winding road for some... and success is unknown.
Second, you only know what you have done, not what you are going to to.

In the past year (perhaps four?) I've undergone some pretty heavy changes in my head culminating in this desire to pursue writing.  It's something that I have always done and have never felt my efforts to be successful.  But I don't know what is going to happen, only what has happened.  

So, I'm on this long and winding road - some days ready to give up on everything and other days ready to take on anything that comes my way.    





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Short Story

5/3/2014

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my life is a short story; the kind with distracting vignettes set on the page for the reader to forget the purpose and the objective of the tale.  i walk through my days hoping there will be the enlightenment at the end to bring all the pieces together with clarity.  my fear is that it will be something that needs to be read over and over before the merit of the story is found tucked away in the words and i will neither have the time nor energy to review the events providing illumination to the value.  
perhaps it is the coffee that is the thread between the panels of this banal quilt of my stories, from the first cup i ever enjoyed in a crappy diner on cottman avenue before i knew that rye bread could be toasted, to the cups every now and then that make me catch my breath when it is brewed with excellence?
i saw yesterday a note that required i write a short story.   but my memory does not reveal the reason why.  i can recall the parameters and in all honesty, i have no idea where to begin this one.  if truth be told, i had thought about taking something i previously written and clipping it enough to meet the requirements.  still cannot remember the reason why i was reading i have to prioritize and complete an anecdote of less than 5,000 words in the next two weeks that is neither a part of a bigger story, nor featured in any other media.  ??
and at this point i know that whoever is reading these words understands that this is one of those vignettes that distracts from the work that should be coming from my fingers.  
today the sun is shining and there is a breeze blowing.  i'm completely broke (financially) and broken (emotionally).  i feel like the only way to stick my pieces back together is with the golden rays of the sun and just keep truckin'  
today, i'm going to live the short story instead of writing one and hope that in the end i can remember why i drew the picture of whatever i encounter today on the page. 

  
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    When Sevy realizes the pharmaceuticals keeping their bodies young are weened from those deemed to have exhausted their usefulness, he believes he must delve into the purpose of this synthesized society believing it is not much different than the life he lived on earth. 

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    Esther Elizabeth Buck 

    i'm halfway through my life with the stifled stories stirring.  i should have done it earlier, but i am on the
     write path finally.

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