La Dolce Vita

Anticipation by Karla Bogard

Yesterday was wonderful.

My parents and I went to San Francisco and braved the cool breezes with the help of strong, hot coffee (I think I could live somewhere cool…but all of my money would be spent at quaint coffee shops!). We shopped in Noe Valley at Cary Lane where I picked up a gorgeous backless dress, plus a scarf I donned immediately. Lunch was at a Peruvian restaurant where I ordered the most amazing omelet stuffed with fresh veggies. In the afternoon, we visited the Legion of Honor and saw Artistic Luxury: Fabergé, Tiffany, Lalique. I fell in love with a bauble or two. Then it was time to refuel with treats at Kara’s Cupcakes (try the Fleur De Sel – a chocolate cupcake filled with caramel and topped with ganache frosting!) before heading across the bay to meander through Sausalito. We concluded our day with delicious Italian food, and today, I am dreaming of Italy.

We leave June 20 and I am nearly bursting with excitement. My nails are freshly painted the color of the Mediterranean Sea, and the afternoon will be filled with sunning by the pool. Summer is finally here.

Stand Up

Initiative – an introductory step or act; leading action; readiness and ability in initiating action; enterprise; one’s personal, responsible decision

Recently, I realized that I place an incredibly high value on initiative. The relationships in my life that have fallen by the wayside all share a common trait: a lack of initiative. While I am certainly guilty of failing in this area, I most often find myself as the introvert leading most of the action in my relationships. I’m not entirely surprised – after all, I’m also Type A and incredibly goal-oriented, so if someone isn’t meeting me halfway, I jump in and make up the difference.

The knowledge that many people in my life take almost no initiative frustrates me to no end. I’ve tried the aggressive approach (leading all the action myself) and the passive approach (waiting to see how much time will pass before the other person reaches out). Neither has been successful, and as I’m well aware, the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing with the hope of a different result.

Instead, I’m going to start a new thing. Instead of acting passive-aggressive, I’m going to take initiative for the sake of my relationships, and model the way I want to be treated. I’m also going to openly communicate my desire for mutual initiative. Finally, when others do reach out, I’m going to set aside my introverted nature (which sometimes cripples me with inaction), and take the time to respond. I’m crossing my fingers, and hoping and praying for improvement in this area. I have a few emails I’ve been neglecting, so to get things started, I’m going to take the time to acknowledge them this morning.

In some ways, I hate stumbling upon books that I love. While I enjoy becoming deeply engrossed in a piece of literature, a sense of loss always follows the conclusion. My experience reading The Piano Teacher last week was no different.

Janice Y. K. Lee’s first novel is breathtaking. A former editor at Elle, she skillfully intertwines the lives of Hong Kong elite with British expats both during and after World War II. Lee’s language is beautifully sparse, and none her characters are particularly likeable, which makes their idiosyncrasies all the more intriguing.

In 1951, Claire Pendleton travels to Hong Kong with her husband Martin, an engineer. She is hired as a piano teacher by Victor and Melody Chen, a wealthy Chinese couple, and quickly finds herself more at ease in the stifling humidity of China than she ever was in her predictable British life. As she emerges from her shell and begins an affair with Will Truesdale, the Chen’s driver, the story returns to 1941, when Will was head over heels for the Eurasian Trudy Liang. The women are opposite in looks and personality–”Claire, with her blonde and familiar femininity, English rose to Trudy’s exotic scorpion”–yet both pique Will’s interest.

While the chaotic Japanese invasion and occupation of Hong Kong also play a central role in the novel, Lee’s rapidly disintegrating characters are most engrossing and make this a piece worth reading (I foresee Keira Knightley as Claire in the inevitable film adaptation).

My Personality: ISTJ

I’ve mentioned before that I’m an ISTJ (Translation: Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging). I’ve taken the Myers-Briggs assessment a few times, and my results have remained consistent.

From the various profiles I’ve read online, I identify most closely with these characteristics:

-ISTJs often give the initial impression of being aloof and perhaps somewhat cold. Effusive expression of emotional warmth is not something that ISTJs do without considerable energy loss.
I’ve always thought of myself as guarded and reluctant to open up. While I enjoy people and relationships, I’m more likely to have a few close friends that I can trust and be vulnerable with than a large group of acquaintances that drain my energy.

-ISTJs are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially when the second parties don’t keep their commitments.
Because I’m such an advocate for quality time, I become frustrated when family members or friends blow me off for a “better” activity/outing/experience that came along, and change our previously made plans. I understand that I need to be flexible–after all, life is far from perfect or constant and people can’t always follow through with their commitments. However, I strive to be consistent with the people in my life, and I place a high value on the reciprocity of that quality.

-ISTJs will work for long periods of time and put tremendous amounts of energy into doing any task which they see as important to fulfilling a goal. However, they will resist putting energy into things that don’t make sense to them, or for which they can’t see a practical application, and they prefer to work alone.
When I believe that my role is crucial to a project and I can clearly identify the relationship between effort and reward in taking on the task, I’m extremely goal-oriented and driven by the desire to succeed. Because interacting with people does involve energy loss on my part, it’s much easier for me to work alone on projects than collaborate and be bogged down by input and opinions from others (I guess this explains my affinity for tennis and running–I’ve never been much of a team player).

-ISTJs are likely to be uncomfortable expressing affection and emotion to others.
I have a hard time verbalizing affection because I’ve always secretly believed that showing my emotion means revealing a weakness. I’m much more apt to express myself through cards or e-mails (If you know me at all, you know this is true).

-ISTJs have one character trait which puts them at a definite advantage in terms of career success – perseverance. An ISTJ can do almost anything that they have decided to do…an ISTJ will do best in a career in which they can use their excellent organizational skills and their powers of concentration to create order and structure. When you challenge me, you bring out the best in me and I rise to the occasion. Nothing stands in my way when I’m determined to succeed–I will lose sleep, work unceasingly, and tap into my abilities to concentrate and get the job done. I work best under pressure, and though I prefer an organized work space, I can also push past distractions when necessary and accomplish things in chaotic environments.

I believe that our personalities can change over time and be shaped by our life experiences. I also know that when I read ISTJ profiles, I find myself nodding my head in agreement, and feeling affirmed as I see myself reflected in the lists of characteristics and paragraphs of analysis. While I may not be an ISTJ forever, I definitely am one right now. Knowing this truth helps me understand why I react to situations the way that I do, and why I’m drawn to certain activities and not others. I’m not perfect and neither is my personality, but knowledge brings power: the power to change, the power to improve, the power to mature.

Benefits of Confession

Confession is not easy for me. Admitting that I’m not perfect, relinquishing my pride, and asking for grace fills me with anxiety. However, I also know that when I experience freedom from that anxiety, I can breathe again. God is gracious enough to reach out to me when I’m treading water and set me on a solid rock.

I was browsing through the Facebook albums of an old friend this morning. I remembered our friendship that ended because of me, and hurtful words of judgment that I expressed to her years ago. Simultaneously, I remembered one of my dreams: that there will never be anyone that I put up walls with or am unwilling to talk to. I was overcome with a rush of conviction, and realized that I never apologized to her. I never admitted that I was wrong, or that I had failed in compassion.

This article by David Barshinger reminded me of the the benefits of confession:

Confession makes us real. It stops us from creating a web of lies to cover up our sins, and allows us to acknowledge our shortcomings to ourselves and those around us…

Confession sometimes heals relationships…When we confess our sins to a person we’ve wronged, that humble action opens a door for a softening of heart and a reconciliation that transcends pain inflicted.

Confession saves us from greater sin. It stops sin in its tracks and makes us face the consequences of our sin and see the consequences of further sin…

Confession confers God’s forgiveness. As Ps. 32:5 states, “I acknowledge my sin to you, and I did not cover up my iniquity; I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,’ and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.” When we stop pretending we’re innocent and admit our failures to God, only then can we experience the cleansing and healing of forgiveness.

I confessed, and I know that her response is now out of my control, but I’m thankful that God moved my heart toward obedience and stripped away my anxiety in the process.

Quench My Heart

I am obsessed with music. I’ve only mentioned it once or twice: here, here, and again here. Being at a Dave Matthews concert is one of my favorite things in the world.

So, it was a surprise when iTunes wasn’t open on my computer this morning, and I had to launch it myself. Clearly I haven’t listened to enough music lately.

Luckily, I know just the thing to pull me out of my despondency: Two Step, circa 2003 from The Central Park Concert. Enjoy!

Winter Wonderland

The bright sun coruscates with lustrous light.
Youngsters laugh and play, relishing the frost.
Snowflakes fall quickly down in open sight.
Mild terrain stretches endlessly, embossed
With layers and layers of white veneer.
Amid the bliss, time stands fixed; unchanged
Despite sunshine’s wane and day’s disappear.
Peace fills the air as nature is arranged.
Yet restfulness is brief, tranquility
Short lived, as life threatens to intercede.
Reflections eclipse all stability
And mar the joy, committing a misdeed.
For nature’s sanctuary is fleeting,
Enduring until the mind’s defeating.

Onward, Upward, Forward

We have chosen hope over fear. -President Obama

Um, where do I sign up?

Wanted: Island Caretaker

Location: Australia

Pay: $100,000

Glimpses of Greatness

A man stood inside a Metro station in Washington, D.C. and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Many minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the bucket and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32 mostly in coins. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

The violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the most celebrated musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written on a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the D.C. Metro, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and with tickets averaging $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell incognito concert in the D.C. Metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the lessons from this experience is:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the most accomplished musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

(Ed. note: I received Joshua Bell’s album Vivaldi: The Four Seasons for Christmas, so this story fascinated me when I read it this morning on another blog.)