Counting On It

60 Seconds in a  minute/ 60 minutes in an hour.
3,600 seconds in an hour/ 24 hours in a day.
86, 400 seconds in a day/ 7 days in a week.
604, 800 seconds in a week/ 52 weeks in a year.
31, 449, 600 seconds in a year.

That's what my mind has managed to boil my existence down to at this moment.

31, 449, 600 seconds in a year. I can not add seconds to the regular 365 days a year. If I live the entire year from beginning to ending, I can not actually reduce the number of seconds. The question is never really in how many seconds I have left to use in my lifetime of seconds, minutes, days, weeks, years, but rather how did I spend that exact factual numbered supply? I actively control or affect the latter.

As a person, I describe myself as passionate, on fire, shaking and baking, busy, invigorated, optimistic, emotional, loving, driven, tenacious, forgiving, intelligent, motivated, inspired, always learning, dynamic, curious, open, tender, giving, serving,  full of gratitude. I know that list is not focussing on grammar or form.   It is more important to me to spit a whale out of the pit of my tummy right now than it is to make it come to sense to anyone, but me!  I need a moment of my own clarity and understanding. I'M WORKING ON IT!!!

I've prayed about it.  Meditated. Read material. Written. Practiced free-writing just prior to this stint at the computer. I've slept on it, dreamed of it, or tossed and turned over it.

The concept of  free writing is something that results in  several thoughts tumbling from me at once. Today, I looked "free writing" up online again and chose an educational, no frills site. Then I decided to follow their format. This included setting a timer, not stopping, not editing, not judging, and choosing a topic to write about. In my own off beat sense of humor?  I chose "Free Writing" as the topic. Why?  I was curious what would come up?

I am into the details of how and why.  That is a bit annoying at times like free writing, praying, meditating, etc.  I know why I do this.  It came up several times this past week.  I heard myself saying in my head, or even muttering out loud, "Damn! I was set up to fall short on this.  That's going to show as a "fail".  Fail is an angry word in my vocabulary. I HATE TO FAIL.  If you do this, Jan, you will fail." 

I have had a lot of exposure to old concepts that came to me in fresh ways this past 11 months.  Some of it is so simple, it was hard. Some of it was hidden among the stuff of life.  Some of it I  was conditioned to get over it, move on. Some of it, I just accepted, tired of bucking the flow upstream. Some of it, habit or traditions held me bound.  Some of it religion or dogma put fear in my spirit and I stayed shy away from either the Unknown, or the unsafe.

 Some of it was brand spanking new to me, some of it I just kept pushing back, staying in my roll with the flow mode that gets me through all kinds of life drama or issues.   That last one, rolling with the flow, is a survival tool I've had to engage, seems like all my life.  Just get through it, move on, and hope I learned a thing or two?

As a person, I get very uptight thinking that I might fail, and it sometimes causes the very thing I am worrying over.  The concept I recognized this year was "what you reflect out of you, is what you attract to you." Even as I type this, my stomach is roiling, my jaw is clamped,  my hands keep clenching, my posture is slumped and my eyes keep drifting off screen.


  The day is beautiful in Central Florida, but my focus is lax and I think it keeps trying to protect me, to push me back just under an alarming level? The fact I can't focus even is ticking me off, and I see I am going in circles. "Failing" again. This time to sort out or stay on a topic.  Just as I wrote that?  I huffed an angry growl that would have smoked my laptop into an incendiary heap of smoldering ash if I was a dragon. UGH!  I have been in and out of that stage of an aggravated huff for quite a while now!!!

Here is a bit of my shot gun spray of angst. Some of it came out in my free writing exercise.  As I wrote most of it? I noticed myself pushing my way through to humor. That's another survival tool. If you can laugh about a situation? It may not be as bad as you once thought, it might relax if it is bad, and you can definitely ease up and get into the "roll with the flow" stage if you can laugh about it.


  As I was free writing? My mind was still so uptight, it kept telling me "you can't edit it , per the "RULES", so don't screw it up the first time to begin with.  Just keep it light, so you can keep moving. Don't get serious or grey. Don't fail this too, Hooper!"

hmmmm... is that a sign of something more deeply ominous?  All week I referred to myself by an old name, my maiden name.  Hmmm?

To free write? I paid careful attention up front to "get everything right". I located looseleaf paper. I found me a lid to a storage unit to use as a desktop. I found the timer function on my EVO and even restarted it. I wanted to set it for ten minutes, but I got edgy that pushing the start took up my seconds. So I actually set it for 10 minutes, 30 seconds, to give me time to turn and address my paper.  I fidgeted with the Sirius Xm selections.


  I love classical and symphonic music, but I found myself grooving to the beat. If anything had voice? I was straining to decipher it. I settled in with cool jazz, only every 5th song or so has any lyrics to it. The station is called Watercolors, and when I think of that word, I think of light shades of blue, watery, mixxing and fading across a clean canvas. Beginning to drip, swirl, tilt.. blend.  That seemed a good moodsetting  for writing.

  Finally, I stopped all that bustle and I truly did the three deliberate, slow breaths that I learned this year. What a gift!

I didn't have a pen on hand that I like.  I am adamant to write with blue ink when it is for personal or pleasure use.  And I don't like the pen to be smooth grip, or medium point.  The only blue pens on my truck now are slick bics or a Pilot knock off with a broken plastic sheath.  So the pen bent at the tip, wobbling as I wrote and I kept noticing it. Annoyed.  Wow.  I am really cranky, lol.

I chose the topic Free Writing because just those words make me smile.... okay, they make me grin and internally giggle.  I feel the corners of my eyes crinkling and my heart gets skippy in a happy beat.  This is a result of when I first "discovered" the term, I asked three people I trust to tell me what all the buzz was about.  And all three of them laughed at me, or should I say, with me? I was sheepish to ask. They all three got sparkles of good humor, that radiated out in their reply.  I can not rein in a a goofy giggle in my heart to think of the phrase "free writing". So I chose  a subject that both infuriates me and makes me laugh. That's a typical experience right now, in the exact SECOND I am living.

Whew, that was wandering.  My mind is doing a lot of that drifting stuff lately. ANYWAY!  What I came up with in the free writing exercise in ten minutes was just exactly how much TEN MINUTES costs or affects. And YES!! That is my anxiety!  That is my "fail". That is what is twisting and turning me into knots.  As I defined it in my ramblings today, this ten minute exercise is JUST ANOTHER item to add to my "Things To Be Done" list. 

Ten minutes by itself is a small number. That's only 600 seconds out of a year.

But when the "LIST" keeps tacking STUFF on every day?
Or when items really should be given more than ten minutes to be adequate?

I'm overwhelmed and out of time before I begin.

I failed.

Sigh.....

10 minutes to pray.
10 minutes to breathe.
10 minutes to meditate.
10 minutes to read.
10 minutes to write.
10 minutes to exercise.
10 minutes to love.
10 minutes to serve.
10 minutes to give.


Many of those on that list above should have 30-60 minutes- EACH AND EVERY DAY!!
Yet, just at the bare bones? Before breakfast or a shower?  It's already 90 minutes, or one and a half hours of my exact 24 hours a day.


Each advocate says their exercise is the one necessary to be life-changing or meaningful. As it all adds up, I feel the weight of my shortcomings on my soul. I feel the strain to add even one more routine to my unstructured work and lifestyle.  See? In doing the exercise, I almost talked myself out of doing, while still in the process of doing it.

Confused yet?  Here's another one for you.  I am not into jokes that find their humor in degrading or injuring another.  One of the rare exceptions so far, has been an NPR Radio show on Saturdays called, "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me."  I find it to be funny, a bit risque, and yet, somewhat a funny way to present portions of truthful events.  I live in a technical era that offers so many ways to get the gratification I search for.  If my laptop internet streams too slow for live-streaming?  If SiriusXM doesn't have it?  The new Android most likely has it somewhere.



  My EVO has an application called "Tune In Pro" that allows me to search and tap into live streams of radio WORLDWIDE. I can listen now, record these to listen to later, fast forward, rewind, etc.  I can search by title of a program, local station, genre, or just by letting the Android tell me what is on. Over 5,000 options.  By the way, even for a multi-tasker like me? That is 4, 999 more radion stations than I can enjoy at one time!

I knew August 20, 2011 was Saturday.  Where was my NPR radio show?  I made it my agenda to LAUGH dammit.  Man!  I ended up being thwarted in every corner and aggravated at trying to find what I put my hopes on to make me laugh!  Aiyiyiyi!

 The program is contingent upon good cell phone signal coverage.  And my opinion? Sprint has the absolute lousiest coverage of all the providers!  As I drive on my job, I am forever having to reboot my Sprint computer aircard for my laptop and my cell phone to get back in the stream.  How annoying! 

If I am recording on Tune In?  Well, it gets a burp in the stored program every time I lose signal or have to reboot.  Yesterday? I swear it seemed like every time it was a punchline to a joke, or an answer to a question? A wrinkle in time and I lost signal!!!  Grrrr.

So, I had a brainstorm!!!  This is at least a nationwide NPR program.  I could find it in, say, Pacific time zone and program it to record for later.  Meanwhile, I stumbled upon podcasts of "Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me" with weekly dates up to August 13th.

FINALLY!!! This is where I found humor to make up for the humorous radio I was being gypped of!  Here is my punchline - " Next week's podcast will be last week's broadcast copy of today's show."

I simply need to be patient 604,800 seconds until this time next week, to hear today's show.

It failed to humor me then, that all of the podcasts are new material to me, since I just discovered them yesterday.

To sum this all up, as I can feel my steam is seeping out?  The "Do XXXXX or you will fail, Jan" comes from my work on my job as a truck driver.  It was when I was a lease operator and my aggressive driver manager pushed his equally aggressive driver (me) to succeed in the business model. 

450 miles a day or you will fail, Jan.

750 miles on Monday, did not excuse a 350 mile day on Tuesday. To the pair of us?  I had shown I had the potential for a 750 mile day each and every time.

It also goes back to a phrase I heard all through my growing up years. "You are falling so far below your potential. What a waste."... well, somehow, that didn't motivate me to "SHOW THEM",,, it eventually came to, "Well, FINE, I won't fricking ever be good enough anyway, so I aint gonna bust a gut trying this time either."
 
Today, I refuse to fall into that trap or lie!!!

I end up leaning more to the "450 miles a day or you will fail" mentality.

Push myself to my edge, then tomorrow? Strive to BETTER MY BEST.

This can be a powerful tool to spur me onward.  Right now though, it is making me tired to my core of always falling just short of the mark I set in my own path.  Especially since I do not control many aspects of trucking business. 

The only parts I do control? MY alarm clock, my calendar, my time spent attending to the driving, the fewer, shorter stops better.

I am watching my life pass by at 62 mph in a huff of sick diesel fumes.

Currently, I have an agressive driver manager again.  This man does not believe he needs to consult me when he plans my loads. He expects me to go when and where I am told, when he tells me to do so.  This grates on my every last nerve.

I am an intelligent, thinking, rational human being and I can choose when and where, how and what route to go,,, as long as the WHY is covered,,, which is simple - safe! on time! pick up and delivery! professional, attentive customer service at my own HIGH STANDARD.

The driver manager discovered I will run my heart out.  So he has gotten a bad habit of planning me back to back, grueling, very tight deadlines that "rescue" loads and drive his/my miles up per week.  It pays to have me on a fleet.  It pays me to have a manager like him behind me. Together? We are killing my desire to keep going on!

This week?  I pushed HARD out of the gate!  Almost immediately, circumstances caused me to sit 20 hours UNPRODUCTIVE, then "help me out",,, so I ran hard and furious to back his play.

Got to the next one? He has booked me back to back, no wiggle room. I had better plan on a tailwind to push my truck 63 mph, and not drink any water that day.

Get almost to the destination (projected on time, btw) and he slings me to rescue another driver's load, who is already TWO fricking hours late.

I have remained in that 1-2 hour late status the rest of the week.  You can't make it up.

i am failing at my job. Just as I failed to not overthink free writing. Just as I failed to see how in God's green earth I can add ONE MORE 10 minute routine to my day!!!!!!!!!!

Will I get relief?  COUNT ON IT!  Will I perservere? Yep!  Will I get righted and get on top of my own work ethic? You bet your A$$.

Right now? I have 100 minutes. That's  6,000 seconds left before I have to blast off on a Sunday to commence today's effort to catch up from the hell hole of "failures" of last week.  How I spend that finite, exact, specific allotment of "time"?

Is up to me.

Getting off the computer to find a way to raise my emotions, my vibrations and my attitude?

Count on it,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~