On Feeling Things Hard

Posted on by

0

Lately, I’ve been feeling my emotions very intensely. And I kind of like it. I know it’s weird to enjoy being slightly crazy, but I just love FEELING. I feel everything so much and so hard. But I think it can be a beautiful thing – to feel so overwhelmed by the beauty in the world (I get this feeling a lot in the mountains) and so sad by all the struggle (I get this feeling a lot while traveling in developing countries).

I can tell I’m feeling when the checkers at the grocery store make me cry – I just can’t handle seeing old men checking groceries on a Tuesday night. I want them home, with families, in a comfortable, cheerful house. Doing what they want to – maybe watching TV, or eating a home-cooked meal, or laughing with friends and family. Anywhere but being 65 and working at Fred Meyer. This has happened to me since high school. I remember crying at the 2am Taco Bell manager, a balding 40-something working the late-night drive-thru shift. I couldn’t think of anything sadder than being a middle-aged Taco Bell manager, dealing with drunk teenagers on a Saturday night. The pain of his perceived life completely overwhelmed me. It hurts so much worse when they are kind.

When I finally got on an anti-depressant when I was 24, that feeling went away. It’s not that I stopped caring, but I stopped noticing. It’s funny – I was so worried about going on an antidepressant, because before I did, I felt that the world was a sad, dark, damp place and that if I got on medication it would mask that. The world would still be sad and painful, but there would be a veil between me and it. Instead, when the medication started working, I thought, “OH, so this is what normal feels like.” And it was true. I still had emotions, but they were more appropriate. I would feel sad if something was sad, rather than completely covered in sadness, like it was a heavy ocean moving above me.

Now that I’ve started feeling that way again, now that when I notice the stooped man working in the electronics section of Fred Meyer on a weeknight and think of the free $50 gift card to Sullivan’s Steakhouse that I won just burning a hole in my wallet, and wondering when that man last enjoyed a nice steak dinner out, I wonder if the antidepressant didn’t cover up the sadness in the world. How could I have stopped noticing things like that? How could I be so self-involved as to go about my business, never feeling the sadness of other people’s worlds?

To be fair, a friend pointed out that many people find happiness and contentedness with their lives and their work, and that I shouldn’t assume they are unhappy just because they are bagging groceries on a Thursday night in the middle of winter in Alaska. That they may lead very full and happy lives, and maybe they want to be there. That may be true, but I can’t help thinking that if that’s the case, then they are just simply not aware of how much else is out there. Maybe ignorance is bliss after all.

When the Universe Says Curry

Posted on by

0

Today I kept putting the question out: “What will make me feel better?” Usually I know the answer — get in the mountains, take a nap, phone a friend. Today the answer that kept coming back was: “make a curry.” I even found myself writing those words down. I didn’t really  understand it, but seriously — that answer kept coming and coming. Well, okay then.

I already had curry paste made, so it was to the store on my lunch break for soup ingredients. Of course Carrs didn’t have everything that I needed, so after work I tried a different store. I hate two-stop shopping. I was feeling a little grumpy and regardless of the fact that the universe kept telling me to make a curry, I didn’t want to. I was simply following instructions.

When I got home, I really just wanted to sit on the couch. It was dark out, my body still felt like it was weighted down with wet sand and I just wasn’t that hungry. But I’d made myself accountable and invited a friend over, and so I got to work. Mostly chopping bright red and green vegetables, but then slicing chicken, smelling the paste as it heated up in coconut cream, and darting back and forth from my tiny kitchen to the cookbook on my table.

At some point, I realized that the goal of making the curry was to keep me in the moment, and distracted from my own thoughts. The two trips to the store also kept me occupied and busy, and got me there to buy necessities I would have put off until my head felt back to normal.

A few hours later, am I feeling better? I think so. At the very least, my evening passed without me sodden on my couch with ruminating thoughts. I kept myself busy, I was able to feed a friend who is going through a rough time, and I ate fresh, good food.

It’s difficult to stay in-a-crisis depressed with that.

How to Win at Travel Conversations

Posted on by

3

I’ve spent enough time traveling to see people, often expats but certainly travelers (especially long-term ones), get territorial about a place or the experience of travel. It’s like there is intense competition for who has been the most places, who is a “traveler” and not a “tourist,” and who has the most experience in a given location. Many expatriates believe they know more than any other foreigners and have earned the right to condescend to anyone who hasn’t lived at least 15 years in a place, so they tend to win travel conversations. Other winners are long-term travelers, and people who have spent more than the average amount of time in a location. But anyone can win a travel conversation! Here are sure-fire tips for winning, no matter who you’re talking to.

Note: if you begin the conversation with the assumption that the other person has any travel experience or location knowledge, you’ve already lost.
• Start talking about a place before you’ve been asked, or even engaged in conversation.

• Be sure to mention either how long you’ve been in xx place, or how long ago you traveled there. Bonus points if you were there “before it changed” or “back before there were any tourists.”

• Talk about how much you hate Lonely Planet and other guidebooks.
• Pronounce cities with a local accent: if you’re American, you’ll say “Pa-ree” instead of Paris. Doing so shows that you can speak the language like a local or that you have a real insider’s view.
• List all the illnesses and diseases you’ve contracted – malaria, Dengue fever, eight days of barfing in Kathmandu: going through the shit makes you a winner at traveling.
• Complain about other tourists.
• Say you “did” a country.
• Allude to authenticity: you know the “real” wherever. The best local restaurants and bars, local people, etc. Be territorial about them; it’s almost as if you own them, after all.
Any other tips for winning a travel conversation?