Resolution Bandwagon

Last Updated (Tuesday, 30 November 1999 00:00) Written by Megan Whitney Tuesday, 12 January 2010 03:08

Happy New Year!  2009 was wonderful to me and I’m so grateful for every person that crossed my path and everything that happened.  2010 promises to be just as amazing, and then some!  To make sure I live it up I’ve decided to jump on the resolution bandwagon. (I know, a bandwagon, that’s so unlike me!  But if anyone wishes to send me a pair of Vibram Five Fingers I will gladly accept and run in them.  Thank you.  J)  Below is a rather extensive list of my resolutions.  Wish me luck!

I Resolve To:

Be Positive!

Know that everything will work out, always.

Be compassionate.

Connect with as many people as I can.

Give.

Publish!

Join a writer’s workshop.  (If you know of any in the Austin area let me know!)

Do something I’m good at everyday.

Do something I love everyday.

Celebrate my successes.

Learn something new everyday.

Continue to move outside of my comfort zone.

Whatever your resolutions may be for the upcoming year I wish you the best of luck at fulfilling them.  Have a wonderful new year!

One of my favorite quotes:

Last Updated (Tuesday, 30 November 1999 00:00) Written by Megan Whitney Tuesday, 12 January 2010 02:46

Everyday, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to be alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it. I am going to use all my energies to develop myself, to expand my heart out to others; to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. I am going to have kind thoughts towards others, I am not going to get angry or think badly about others. I am going to benefit others as much as I can.

Compassion Project

Last Updated (Tuesday, 30 November 1999 00:00) Written by Megan Whitney Wednesday, 02 December 2009 05:25

Something has been bothering me.  Last Monday a couple came into Beets and gave one of my coworkers a card about compassion.  They have a site, www.AvatarResults.com, the purpose of which is to “increase the amount of compassion in the world” through “compassion exercises.”  Now Nicki, my previously mentioned coworker, is one of the most understanding, caring, and compassionate people I know.  So, when I said, “that’s something I need,” in reference to the card, it through me off when she responded in a matter of fact way with “yeah, you do.”  Of course I meant what I said, and I still mean it—we could all stand to be a little more compassionate; so I shouldn’t have been surprised by her reaction.  But I was, and my surprise made me realize something.  I go around spouting a philosophy of compassion:  Go Vegan!  Sweatshop Free’s the Way to Be!  Buy local, volunteer, give homeless people your extra food… but does that make me a compassionate person?  Do I try to be understanding?  Am I really aware when the people around me need help, and do I really help whenever I can?  How can I be this amazing, compassionate person when an even more amazing, compassionate person can’t recognize me as such?

            As I went about the next few days trying to be compassionate I happened upon this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u20vVbhpM50.  In it Srikumar Rao talks about a “me-centered universe” in which each individual thinks about their lives by asking, “How does this affect me?  Will it lead to my personal happiness?” The best way to achieve this happiness we all seem to seek, according to Rao, is to align ourselves with doing something for the greater good rather than just the greatest good for the individual. 

            I couldn’t agree more, and as I thought about how I got stuck in this uni-verse of mine, something became very clear.  It wasn’t my fault.  I didn’t get stuck here I was put here, condition to be this way.  Society preaches the idea that you have to help yourself before you can help anyone else.  It’s funny to think about everyone who has told me that, particularly on my last road trip with Kiley. 

            When we would tell people our story, that we dropped our lives to drive around the country trying to make an intimate (don’t misread that word) connection with people on a one-on-one level; so many people would say that what we were doing was admirable then, inevitably, put us down.  “You don’t have money saved up?  You don’t have jobs?  You have a dog with you?  How can you pay for gas, feed yourselves, feed the dog?  You can’t help anyone, you can’t even help yourselves.”  That was the sentiment everyone put out, but who did these people think they were, darnit?  Aside from a few very successful, yet irrefutably selfish people in our lives (I want to take a second to point out that I am not referring to my incredibly generous and ever encouraging aunt, thank you for everything… ever, Aunt Sharon), the bulk of these nay-sayers were the even more successful, uber-me-centered and consequently very wealthy people of Scottsdale, Arizona.  With the exception of our time with the amazing Foster family who took us under their wing, we were starving and homeless in Phoenix and yet somehow we always seemed to interact with individuals who were far from it.  Very few of those individuals helped us, and while the ones that did went above and beyond; looking back now begs the question: at what point has one helped herself enough to be able to help others? 

            Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t looking for handouts we were looking to connect with people and, if we could, help them in whatever way they needed it most.  The thought of others not even offering us words of encouragement, let alone food or shelter, didn’t bother me until I started writing this blog. 

Perhaps I’m being too hard on them, though, perhaps I’m just trying to distract from my own inadequacies when it comes to compassion.  What I do know without speculation, however, I want to reiterate: we can all stand to be a little more compassionate.  We need to begin to open our eyes and notice when we need one another. And the best help we can give is to show how much we care.  I don’t mean how much in terms of how much money we donate, how many things we can give; I mean how much of ourselves we can give.  A human connection, knowing that someone else cares and thinks you matter; that’s what people need. 

            I guess I can’t be mad at Nicki for pointing out that I don’t try as hard as I could to be compassionate, I can only be grateful for what she made me realize.

Coffee Shops, Computer Chargers, and New Homes... Oh My!

Last Updated (Monday, 23 November 2009 05:11) Written by Megan Whitney Wednesday, 28 October 2009 01:21

            Seriously, where are all the good coffee shops in Austin?  I have come across nothing but sub-par joints with bad coffee, bartistas who are rude and don’t ever give you what you ask for, and sad people who are trying too hard to be un-Texan.   Fair Bean buzzes with negative energy and suffocates me every time I walk in, Bouldin is dirty and filled with chatty people who sit around and do nothing but complain, which quit honestly rubs off on me; I’ve been to some others but they’re obviously not memorable.  The only place I actually like is Coffee Bean and they’re a chain.  At least they don’t burn their coffee.  Perhaps I just miss the coffee shops of yor.  Henry’s, Aimee’s, La Prima Tazza… but those are from times long gone, and though I loved them all dearly—except Aimee’s, I know they’re not where I belong. 

            So, where do I belong?  If I’m counting down the days until I’ve been here a year, why even stay that long?  Why not just move on now?

            Unfortunately what was lacking in life was my computer charger, it went all some-lucky-girl-got-the-guy-who-was-shooting-blanks on me.  I suppose these things weren’t made to last longer than their warranty.  Needless to say I made my way to Best Buy to best-buy a new one.  I did not get the best-deal, and I wondered what kind of profit HP turns on a simple computer charger.  Of course, Best Buy also has to turn a profit and in turn my profit drops $87 in the red.  It just didn’t seem right that I was paying so much for something so little.  Does HP really need to charge that much for a charger? 

            Anyway, all week I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly it was that was bothering me so much about Austin.  It’s a great city with great people.  I mean, sure they try a little too hard to not be Texas (but who can blame them) while still trying to profit any way they can on “liberal” “progressive” things that are “green” or “eco-friendly” ;at least they’re trying to do some good in the process.  I like it here, I do.  I like my friends, I like my job, and I like my gym with all its really hot trainers.  So, what the hell is wrong with me? 

            It took a new friend to help me realize: it’s not home and I haven’t been able to make it my home.   First it was the boy’s home filled with his books, his movies, his pillows.  I just had a suitcase.  And when it wasn’t his home anymore I was just a stranger wondering around in a strange land, the Land of Oz.  (Keep up folks, read my excerpts from the 6^th and Oz project I’m working on.) 

            So, here I am, a Dorothy lost in someone else’s Oz, looking for my way back home.  For almost two months now I’ve been trying to bring myself to give the boy back his books and his movies and his pillow.  Yesterday I finally did.  Well, Sasha did.  I was going to do it, but I couldn’t.  I don’t know if it was just too hard or if I’ve already moved on, I’m ready for something else, someone else and I didn’t want anything getting in the way of that.  I’m not sad about anything that happened.  Actually, I’m grateful.  I couldn’t have moved to Austin without him.  But I CAN live in Austin without him.  It’s my home too now.  I don’t miss him, but at times I do wish what could have been would have gotten the opportunity to be.  I didn’t move here for him, he just happened to give me the fastest and easiest way out of Kansas.  I’ve been operating under the assumption that he was the scarecrow, the tin man, and the cowardly lion helping this Dorothy find her way back home; but now I think they’re still to come; waiting for me on the horizon, beckoning me with every storm cloud that rolls by, every rainy day.  Or maybe, and this is the way I really like to think of it, maybe I’m all of them--Dorothy and the whole crew--and I can find my way home on my own; the boy was just the tornado that  swept through the prairie and carried me somewhere over the rainbow.  I was already displaced from my home; maybe the tornado brought me a little bit closer to finding it again. 

            Oh, and one good thing about Fair Bean:  Very attractive owner.