I downloaded a tuning App to replace my warped metallic tuner. The one I have looks and works like a mini-harmonica. Pretty much as typewriter is to touch-screen.
One small step for woman, one giant step for…the same woman.
The world has been moving pretty fast for me: a spacecraft now rests on a hurdling comet, ebola is becoming old news, and Benedict Cumberbatch got engaged. I have mixed emotions about the last one. Side note: I had grand plans to savor the third season of Sherlock for as long as possible. As long as possible lasted 2 days.
I got to know one of the exchange students from Norway this past semester, and it will be weird to go back in January and not see her. We worked in a small group for the second half of the semester, and we had a lot of fun trying to figure out what to do as mostly-clueless therapists. Observation: when writing a collaborative report, brains will abort English mode after 6 pm, and be replaced by Norwegian or Chinese counterparts. Alas, semester 1 of year 2 of school is now complete, and I have no idea what to do with myself. Vacation: noun, synonym for “plan to accomplish too much then end up not accomplish much at all”. A perennial struggle.
I’ve also been binge-viewing Humans of New York. Either Brandon Stanton is an undercover hypnotist-psychiatrist, or NYC is filled with fascinating people, or I am doing a terrible job listening to stories of the humans around me. I know it’s easy to romanticize a place, or a period in time, when I am somewhere else, or sometime else, and I am sure nothing would be remotely romantic or exotic if I ever happened to be paying rent in NYC. In any case, end of the semester + HONY + feeling a bit anachronistic, and this poem came to mind:
De kommer mot deg på gaten, suser forbi med sykkel, ender opp i samme heis som deg, står og venter på gront lys i samme veikryss. De fleste har du aldri sett før, noen er bekjente, noen er dine beste venner. Sett ovenfra beveger vi oss som maur i mønster. Vi går de fastlagte veiene, på rad og rekke fra a til b med kanskje et stopp i mellom. Som i et kretskort, ferdig programmerte og forutsigbare. Og mens vi går der innestengt i våre rutiner og gjentakende tanker inne i hodet, passerer menneske på menneske, folk vi ikke ser, med hver sin unike historie og utrolige liv. Noen dager tenker du på en person en hel dag, og på vei hjem fra jobb møter du akkurat han eller henne. Vi kaller det skjebne eller intuisjon, en uforklarig sans vi aldri helt har forstått hva er. Det bare skjer tilfeldig, tror vi, utenfor vår kontroll. Men som små molekyler i vann henger vi sammen og binder hverandre til hverandre. Og mens vi renner der av gårde som en elv, ulenkelig knyttet til hverandre hvor hver lille bevegelse påvirker den andre og den andre ved siden av der igjen, så blir mønsteret både tilfeldig og opplagt på samme tid. Vannet renner en vei, men noen av menneskene vi møter kan plutselig forandre alt og sende oss i en helt annen retning. Da blir alle møtene vi går gjennom hver dag til potensielle skatter.
They come at you on the street, whizzing past on bicycles, ending up in the same elevator as you are, waiting for green light at the same intersection. Most people we have never seen before, some are acquaintances, some are your best friends. From above, we move like ants in a pattern. We are the established roads, all in a row from A to B with maybe a stop in between. As a circuit board, pre-programmed and predictable. And as we go, trapped in our routines and recurring thoughts in my head, passing human to human, people we do not see, with their own unique history and remarkable life. Some days you think of a person for a day, and on the way home from work happens to meet him or her. We call it fate or intuition, an inexplicable sense we have never fully understood. It just happens randomly, we believe, beyond our control. However as small molecules in water we hang together and bind each to each. And while flowing off as a river, unlinked, linked, each small motion affects the other and the other adjacent, to where once again the pattern is both random and fitting all at once. The water flows one way, but some of the people we meet can suddenly change everything and send us in a completely different direction. And all of the chance encounters we go through every day are potential treasures.
photo credit: Eric Whitacre