Zoomer Chronicles: The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as far that the passing there Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.                             I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled, And that has made all the difference.        Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken," Birches

     Today, Zoomer and I set out not knowing whether we would venture northeast, or southeast of Downtown St. Paul.
     Our rules???

     Few.  Discover how far out of Downtown St. Paul that we could travel safely.  Study the map long enough to have a general sense of the area, yet, not so long as to be convinced that there is nothing to explore--nothing interesting to discover.  Take no stupid risks.  Yet, have enough of a spirit of adventure to get out the door, and down the curb cut.

     Our supplies???

     Simple.  Purse with cell phone.  Detailed street atlas.  Headband.  Gloves.  Wheelchair blanket. 

     Today's starting point???

     West Seventh Street.

     Today's questions???

     Can I cross the Seventh Street bridge outside of Downtown?  If so, how far may I travel?  What may I find?  Will Zoomer's batteries discharge sufficient energy to power my adventures?

     Rules understood, supplies in hand, starting point established, and questions set forth, we are ready to go.

     Good.  The Seventh Street bridge has a sidewalk.  Good.  It is a busy street, but, most anything, short of a freeway is possible, right???

     Bridge crossed.  Now what???  Shopping establishments???  Nothing worth stopping for.  There must be something more along this main thoroughfare.  There must be.

     Go forth.  The Bruce Vento Regional Trail.  
     Hmmmm....


"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled, and that has made all the difference."

Zoomer Chronicles: Mapping Out a New Life

     Zoomer and I set out today to explore the southeast quadrant of Downtown St. Paul.  I am not delusional.  Downtown St. Paul, in toto, is small in geographic terms.
     St. Peter.  Wabasha.  Cedar.  Minnesota.  Robert.  Jackson.  Temperance.  Sibley.  Wacouta.  Wall.  Broadway.  Eleven blocks from west to east.
     Eleventh.  Tenth.  Exchange.  Ninth.  Eighth.  Seventh.  Seventh Place.  Sixth.  Fifth.  Fourth.  Kellogg.  Eleven blocks from north to south.
     Within these eleven west- to east-bound streets, and within these eleven north- to south-bound streets are a myriad of adventures.  The precise quotation escapes me,  yet, one sidewalk inscription said it best.  Essentially, it compared walking a dog with love.  There is a whole world out there to explore.  I will return to that quote in the sidewalk...once I remember its precise location:)
     Intersections.  Fifth and Sixth Streets are both parallel, and perpendicular.  I kid you not.  Twists and turns.  Light-rail transit construction.  I-94.  I-35E.  The Mississippi River.  These are the boundaries of Downtown St. Paul.  Yet, the question remains.  How far may I push the envelope--how far may I push myself beyond the geographic boundaries of Downtown St. Paul?
     This is not grandiose.  This is not the stuff of graduate coursework.  This is not the stuff of climbing the corporate ladder.  I achieved academic goals.  I worked in state government, a large corporation, and with an individual over a period of 27 years. Never did I approach the lowest rung on the corporate ladder.  That is the past.  Character building, to say the least.   But, that is the past.  It must be.  I cannot let any unharnessed frustration or anger steer me off course.  I may not know the direction I am to head, yet, I cannot allow any anger or frustration steer me off course from my journey.
     Now I am called to live a different life.  What does it look like? I am not sure.  We have a new map.  Now,  Zoomer and I must begin using it.  We must discover our new address.  That is my choice. Today. That is my choice.
     The geographic boundaries in which Zoomer and I travel are the framework of a different life--a life I am carving out for myself now, and for the future.  This is not brain surgery.  Yet, the only way I may know how to operate in this new life is to travel its arteries--breathe its air.  So desperately, I want to encourage friends and family to do the same in their varied lives.
      I do not have a vision for my friends, and family, any more than I understand what it is that I am supposed to live.  I do have faith in them--faith in their potential.  I do believe--understand--with every ounce of my being, that college graduation, release from prison, and unemployment are all times when lifework needs to be mapped out.
     Frustration--anger--channeled is a sign of hope.  Frustration--anger--unharnessed is a squandered opportunity.

Employing Yourself

     Today, unemployment--finding work--touched me. Not me, Patty Thorsen, but, rather, someone I know was thrown by the bureaucracy of unemployment benefits--how they are administered.
     I feel somewhere on the continuum with Guilty at one end, Gratitude in the middle, and Insensitivity at the other end.  How can I possibly offer the support, and encouragement a friend deserves?
     My guilt? I am not faced with the challenge--the stress--of finding, and keeping a job.  The unemployment statistics.  Job creation.
     Gratitude?  My pace is mine to set.  I am free from the expectations of others--arbitrarily-established benchmarks of performance.  Swimming is mine to lap up.  I awaken to no alarms--my bladder takes care of that.
     Insensitive?  Yes.  I fear I am insensitive to the challenges--psychological challenges--of pursuing and applying for work that is below one's gifts--below one's potential.
     I hear the self-destruction that, in the long run, well may erode the faith, and hope necessary to make the most of one's gifts.  Self-destruction found in job hunting is masked by outrage at the system, outrage at the plight that individuals without any resources necessary to find a job.
     Never would I have imagined that I would forget the years of unfulfilling work, the frustration of being underestimated.  Yet, nearly two years have passed since I made an unexpected exit from the full-time work world--an exit after 24 years.  Occasionally I dream that I am trying to get back to work, yet, I never make it.  In the dream, I wonder, "What is wrong with this situation?"
     I know that finding a job is not easy.  I understand that seeking job opportunities that are beneath one's gifts, and potential is a painful compromise--a compromise of conscience.
     I do understand that persevering those trying times is paying off now.  A stable income...not excessive, but, stable, and secure.  Retirement.  Pension.
     I know that I wanted no part of what I am saying now, when I was working full-time.  For that reason, I question the integrity of my prayer.  Yet, my desire that friends, and family, who are in this situation, invest themselves fully in creating their new lives.
    My prayer for anyone who finds themselves underemployed?
    May you pour the anger, hostility, outrage, and frustration into an earthen vessel that you store out of your sight--separate from the human being, who must be employed.
    May you relinquish the burden of civic responsibility, and advocacy for others with fewer resources while you heal your wounded self.
    Civic responsibility, and advocacy will re-form itself within your spirit, when you emerge from the chapter of unemployment, or underemployment.  Have faith.
    May you define compromise.
    May you make necessary compromises.
    May you continue the pursuit of a more fulfilling life--a fulfillment of your potential.
    May you give no one the satisfaction of knowing that you are the person they may imagine--a person of lesser potential.
     You are better than that.  You are worthy of the challenge.  You can and will surmount the challenge.
     Employ your gifts.  Present them to the world with humility, grace, and determination.

Zoomer Chronicles: Hometown Tourist

     Today, Zoomer and I have been exploring my home of 28 years--downtown St. Paul.  Zoomer took me to places here at home that I have heard about--seen on a map--but, never explored as I did today.
     When was the last time you explored the town where you live as a visitor?  Are there any plaques on buildings?  Have you read them?
      Some years ago, I did just that.  Although from then til now, what sites I visited--what the inscriptions said--have long escaped my memory.
     Life has given me time-- Zoomer has given me the energy--to acquaint myself anew with Downtown St. Paul.  It seems counter-intuitive to set out on an expedition without a destination--without an ETA.  Yet, that is precisely how my expeditions have proceeded.  I thought I had to have a destination in order to have an interesting adventure.  Quite to the contrary.  Am I aimless?  No. Quite to the contrary.
     Temperate weather for pedestrian pursuits in Minnesota is a rare commodity.  It is to be treasured--life, however imperfect it may be, is to be treasured.  So, I shall not squander the snow-free days shining on me.
     Goals??? Yes.  Identify safe curb cuts.  Gain confidence crossing intersections.  Find as many new routes for Zoomer and me to travel.  Zoomer bores easily.  She needs stimulation.  She needs challenge.  
     Today, Zoomer and I passed a new threshold--the Robert Street Bridge over the Mississippi River.  A plaque passes my eyes.  Joy the Joystick jolted us to a halt.  She called our eyes, and ears to the words etched in stone.
     Robert Street Bridge.  When did it open?  It opened on August 6, 1926, after a two-year construction period.  Nearby Shepard Road.  Was it named after anyone?  Yes.  George M. Shepard, who was the St. Paul Department of Public Works director from the 1920s to the 1950s.
     This is hardly vital information.  This is hardly worth losing sleep over not knowing.  Yet, it is an invitation to keep our eyes, and ears open for all life that crosses our pathway.
     Thank you Zoomer, thank you Joy the Joystick, for awakening me to what I overlook that is right beneath my nose.

Zoomer Chronicles: Leaving Home

     Zoomer is having problems leaving home.  I remember having problems leaving home as a child....going to camp....college....embarrassing to admit.  St. Paul was a half a world away from Golden Valley after all....well, OK, so maybe just half an hour by car.
    Zoomer is OK once she gets out of the door, but, it is getting out of the door that is proving challenging--leaving home.
    Hmmm....So, how can I pull her out of her shell, and have the door close behind her, so she will not chicken out and wheel back inside?  Hmmm....
    Aha! I've got it! This should do the trick.  An elastic therapy band secured by a fabric "door anchor."  Let's try....Buckle up, Patty, its the law.  OK. Cell phone in my purse for safety.  Bright orange flag topping Zoomer for safety.
     Ready?  OK. Tie the elastic band with two knots.  Put one small knot behind the door anchor.  Put the fabric door anchor around the doorknob. Tie the other end of the elastic band into a knotleaving a much bigger opening to insert my right hand loosely.
     OK.  Ready.  Set.  Go.  It works!
     Or, so it did for several weeks:)  Yesterday, the Yellow-Banded Bully took Zoomer and me for a ride.  He snapped on us.  I was not hurt.
      I really AM careful.  I swear, I am.  The Bully wouldn't DARE hurt me.
      But, the Yellow-Banded Bully DID get herself stuck arm-in-arm with Zoomer.  I have yet to determine whether it was just an accident, or whether it was a premeditated act of the Yellow-Banded Bully.  He may be a bully but, he will not Bully me.
     I'll show him.  You thought you were the only show in town?  Well, you've got another thing coming, let me tell you, Yellow-Banded Bully.  I have here Orange-Banded Butler fully dressed with the same door anchor.  But, my Orange-Banded Butler will serve me differently.  He will stand--or hang--at attention on the doorknob.  He will await the reach of the Ready Reacher to close the door behind Zoomer.
     The Orange-Banded Butler, and Ready Reacher will not let Zoomer, and me chicken out.  The Butler, and the Reacher are banded together ready to see that Zoomer and me dare the streets.
      Now that we are leaving home, where shall we go?  What shall we do?

What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up???

     Last night, a friend reminded me of the ever-present quest for a perfect job--a perfect life--abundant in fulfillment, and accomplishment, and free of frustration.  Oh, and could you give me meaningful days free of boredom, and monotony.
     To some degree, I live a life of luxury. Well...I could eat bon bons, if I wanted.  I have the time.  But, truth be told, that is not the life I want to live.  I do not have the responsibilities of a full-time, or a part-time employee, for that matter.  So, it is easy for me to make pronouncements about a perfect job---a perfect life.
     My struggle with finding the perfect job were put to an end with the failure of my body.  My mind-filled wish for the perfect job was no matter for my consideration.
     A perfect life???
     Hmmmm....I am still working on that one.
     Any delusion of keen listening--of being able to offer constructive suggestions solely by virtue of listening with a keen ear--were dispelled, when my conversation with my friend ended.
     What are my job responsibilities today?
I have tended to apologize for my current life, as compared to when I was employed by a large corporation.  I am not providing any quantifiable product or service to my "customers," in the lingo of corporate America.  So, what contribution am I offering?
     What are my job responsibilities today?  Who are my customers? What contributions am I offering. 
     Tending to the needs of my body.  Exercising it to make sure that I take the actions within my power to preserve this vessel I was given 51 years ago in the best condition possible.  I cannot take on responsibilities beyond my real or intended capacities.
     For many years, I have had a mutual understanding--offering--with a different friend.  Both of us serve one another as ceiling therapists.  This service is not daily, per se.  As a ceiling therapist, I have agreed to lend an ear, when the need arises.  My friend and I have committed a willingness to be available to do nothing more than listen, while my friend gets off her chest whatever problems, or situations are out of control.  As a ceiling therapist, I agree to pull my friend off of the ceiling after such overwhelming problems, or situations occur.
    At other times, I have served as a control panel specialist, when the need arises.  What? A control panel specialist.  I provide my friend with basic understanding of how to make the computer, most oftentimes the basic software applications sing as they are designed to sing.  Once again, my service as a control panel specialist is provided on an on-call, as needed, basis.
     I feel I am falling short of another job I have undertaken--a prison correspondent.
     I set high expectations.  I fail to give myself credit for what I am doing.  The same is true for volunteering that I am doing.  Yet, with my volunteering, I know that the sheer contact with people is tremendous.  That is the part of my job commitment to myself.
     So, does any of that contain a pearl of wisdom that I could have offered my friend last night?  I do not intend to present myself as some sage--some sole source of wisdom to my friend.  I knew most of what I expressed here last night.
     Yet, as much as I value words, I could not find the words to convey an oftentimes unattractive truth:  Life isn't perfect.  I couldn't bring myself to say, "The party's what you make it," as a travel acquaintance once said.  Both truths seemed to trivialize the desire of my friend to create for herself a life of service--grand service.
     For many years, I resisted sage advice my mother offered over and over and over.  "Focus on the positive, and ignore the negative."  I resisted her advice.  Though the first part, "Focus on the positive," made complete sense to me, I could not reconcile, "ignore the negative."  The "negative" that I was fighting was hurtful reality hurled at me repeatedly.
     It took me many years to understand a difficult, yet extremely valuable truth that I try to live by today.    
     Each problem--each situation--whatever it may be, has some lesson that it offers me to learn from.
     I have a choice.  Do I want to attend to the lesson--seek answers--or do I want to wallow in life's imperfections?
    My choice may be warped by the many years I have been in formal classrooms, be they pre-school, special education, the regular classroom, college, or graduate school.  Yet, again and again, I come back to my choice--I must attend to the lessons.  I must seek answers.
     Yet, who among us live lives of grand service--or grandiose service?
      Do we lose track of the gifts we have been given to offer, when we try to pursue grandiose service?
      Do we lose track of what good there may be in grandiose service, when we try to create it for ourselves?
      I don't know the answers.  Yet, I commit to seek the answers as a friend, as a daughter, as an aunt, as a sister, as a neighbhor, and as a seeker of truth, who has been blessed with an amazing worship community.

Zoomer Chronicles: Bridge to Exhilaration

     Zoomer and I are having a blast.  Saturday it was Lowertown Downtown St. Paul.  Sunday it was Lowertown and then along the south side of Downtown St. Paul following the Mississippi River for several blocks.
     Today, this weekend's confidence led me to a new direction--north to the Minnesota State Capitol.  The best days for my new expeditions are Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays.  With today being Memorial Day, the State Capitol was a fitting destination.  As the crow flies, the Capitol is several miles from me.  Yet, no crows fly over Downtown St. Paul.  We are not on their flight pattern.
     The rule of the day was light-rail transit line construction.  Many streets, intersections, and sidewalks were closed.   Yet, construction made the trip more of adventure than it otherwise might have been.
     Construction was not the only factor to take into account.  Curb cut quality--even terrain--was prime.  Traffic.  Oncoming traffic.  Any reckless abandon I might have felt was mitigated by one, two, or three cars, or trucks headed my way.
     I surmounted them all.  I turned on Jackson Street, said a prayer, and crossed the bridge over I-94....I made it!
     Now what???
     The State Capitol???
     Zoomer, do you have it in you? Can we surpass our past adventures???
     OK.  I am game if you are.  I know there is construction.  I don't know where.  I will navigate.  I submit to your power.