My Year of Hopefulness - A New Lease on Life

Today I went into my old apartment for the next to last time. I was there with the insurance adjuster and the movers. I marked what things I hoped they could salvage, they boxed it up, and took it away for cleaning. At first it was a routine exercise though I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up a little. It's a difficult thing to see all of your belongings damaged, things you worked so hard for, things that have sentimental value, things that connect you to people you love and times long ago. The severing of that tie, despite its materialistic nature, can be hard to bear.

The dry cleaners were supposed to be scheduled for today as well but there was an appointment mix-up so I'll just meet them tomorrow. They'll be there at 10:30 tomorrow morning and once that piece is done, I'll close the door for the last time on an apartment that I had high hopes for. I imagined dinner parties with friends, out-of-town guests, a little dog livening up the place. I'd be cooking in my eat-in kitchen, writing away. It was to be a little den of creativity for the next year. Instead it taught me the lesson of a lifetime - how precious and short every day is. We so often live close to the edge and don't even know it. One minute, I'm writing on my computer, buying iTunes songs ('Landslide' by Fleetwood Mac was downloading at the time the fire broke out), and then my kitchen floor is crackling and heaving the next moment. Life's funny that way. So unpredictable.

At 1:00 this afternoon, I signed the lease to my new apartment and by the kindness of the building managers I can move in immediately. The building was designed by Emery Roth, a renowned architect, whom I'd never heard of until this afternoon. He lived in the building for many years, just down the hall from me, in a 9-room apartment (much larger than mine!). He designed many well-known iconic residential structures in New York City including the El Dorado, the San Remo, and the Warwick Hotel. His firm, Emery Roth & Sons, continued on long after his death and designed many well-known New York City buildings including the World Trade Center (a little spooky that on 9/11 I'd sign a lease at a building designed and inhabited by the man whose firm designed the World Trade Center), the Bronx High School of Science, and the Hemsley Palace Hotel.

As the leasing VP if my new building said, "it's almost as if you were meant to end up here rather than your other apartment." At first I thought she was just saying that to make me feel better. Now, I'm wondering if there's more to her comment than just that simple, surface sentiment. According to Wikipedia, "The extensive architectural records and papers of both Emery Roth and Emery Roth & Sons are now held in the Department of Drawings & Archives at the Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library at Columbia University." Once I am settled in, I will have to pay that library a visit. There's some kind of story here, and now that the wheels of my mind are turning this way again, I know I'm well on my way to being my old self again, with an even greater appreciation for life and all of the mysteries it holds.

The photo above is not mine. It depicts the San Remo designed by Emery Roth. It can be found on Wired New York, an on-line community created by Edward Sudentas for people who love New York City art and architecture.

My Year of Hopefulness - Stepping up and out

This week I got approval and funding for a project that I've been pitching for a year. A solid year of effort, and beating a drum that most had no interest in hearing. For the past year, I've felt alternately foolish and hopeful. One minute I thought I just didn't get it, couldn't see past my own stubbornness. The next minute I'd think, no, it's everyone else who doesn't get it.

I now realize that it wasn't a matter of people getting it; it was entirely a matter of timing and circumstances. I wanted an idea to flourish ahead of its time. Had I gotten approval a year ago for it, the idea would have crashed and burned, no doubt about it. And then I would not have only felt foolish - I would have looked foolish, too.

The universe tries to protect us from ourselves. It throws down roadblocks to test our passion and perseverance, and also to give the rest of the world time to catch up with us. At the time that I first developed the idea, I didn't see it that way. I was so willing to toot my own horn, thinking that I knew something others around me didn't. In reality, the universe was saving me from me. It's a difficult, necessary lesson to learn; when the path is cluttered with resistance, it really is best to wait it out with quiet strength.

This is not to say that we should all zip it and go stand in line waiting for our turn. I still maintain that it takes the ability to step up and out for an idea we believe in that really creates progress. However, the next time a project is not going exactly according to plan, I'll have more patience with myself and with those around me. If the idea's a good one, it's time will come. Perhaps not on the schedule I'd like, though at the time when it has the greatest chance to not only survive but thrive.

My Year of Hopefulness: You get more of what you already have

I've recently been reading the work of Gretchen Rubin, a lawyer turned writer and happiness researcher. She started a blog call The Happiness Project in preparation for her book of the same name that is due to hit shelves in January 2010. Because of my own interest in the subject, I've started following her writing regularly.

Last week, Gretchen published a post about life's cruel truth: you get more of what you already have. It got me thinking about how we always want something our of reach, something that's different than what we have, though not necessarily better. And it's never enough. We want more money, more notoriety, more free time, more love, more, more, more. As Gretchen points out, though we keep striving for something new and different, we end up with more of what we've got.

Luckily, this principle can work in our favor as well. I've found this year that by seeking out something hopeful every day, I'm finding much more hope than I ever thought I'd have. Once I had a little bit, I was able to gather more. I'd notice hope all around me, just by the being more aware of its presence. It's always been there - I just wasn't paying attention. It's lmost as if a little hope is a magnet for more hope. Happiness, love, friendship, luck, and karma work this way, too.

Turn the tables, and we'll find just as many examples that work against us. Anger begets anger. Sadness begets sadness. And so on for things like frustration and disappointment.

So the choice is ours for the making: do we want to feel hope or despair? What is it that we want to attract to our lives? It is possible to think ourselves into luck and good fortune. It's just as easy to turn the tables and make a mess of our lives. Yes there are always outside influences beyond our control, but our lives are largely what we make of them.

One of my mom's childhood friends tells a great story about a trip she and my mom took to New Orleans when they were in their early 20's. A fortune teller on the corner asked them if they'd like to have their fortunes read to them. Without missing a beat, my mom responded, nicely, "No thanks. I make my own fortune." That statement holds more truth for all of us than we realize.