Still Waking Up

Welcome to 2007, my Year of the Empty Sink.

Lately I’ve been enjoying cleaner environments. The clutter on the floor of my car is gone. Garbage gets tossed out right away. If there are things in my closet that I don’t need any more, they go too. When I see something that needs doing (such as a sink full of dishes), I used to resist it, wander away, and do something more entertaining for a while. “There’s always time tomorrow,” I’d say.

Not any more. Today I have today. I live in the present. I’m tired of having a sink full of dishes and a desk full of paperwork. This year, I get things done, and then I put them away or throw them out. This year, I live in a clean and orderly environment. I have space to move around. The clutter is gone. This year, there is room for creativity.

With that said, I have a dining table (with chairs) and a computer desk for sale. They have been here for too long. They are still good but I don’t need them any more. If you need furniture, drop me a line. Leaving a comment works too. I moderate all comments, so if you don’t want the message posted, just say so, and it will be just for me to read.

So, what are your resolutions? This is your Year Of The ____.

I didn’t go home this Christmas. Part of the reason is that I just wanted to stay in Calgary and take a break. Part of the reason is that I don’t even know where home is any more.

I left home in 1992 to go to university. I went back home several times a year while I was at school. Then in 1996, my parents sold the house in Hawkesville and moved six hours away to start a new life and new careers in a field that they love. A young family with young children moved in. That was ten years ago.

About eight years ago I went back to visit a friend that I’d grown up with. Together we went back to my old house, and since everyone knows everyone around there, the new owner gave me a tour to show me all the renovations. They had left nothing untouched. The house was bigger in every direction. None of the rooms were in the same place. My bedroom walls were knocked out, and a bathroom took its place. The stairwell was changed. The only part I recognized was the dining room floor, and that’s just because they hadn’t gotten around to refinishing that yet. I could still see the scratches in the hardwood where my family had dragged our chairs back and forth for 20 years.

That was eight years ago. I still dream about being back there. Often I realize it’s a dream, and I just look around remembering how things were, realizing full well that none of it exists any more. Occasionally I’m back there and I don’t realize it’s a dream. Sometimes I’m almost a kid again.

A year ago I went back to visit family and friends in the area. I borrowed the family car and drove through Hawkesville. I stopped and talked with my former neighbours across the street. Then the front door of my childhood home opened, and two strangers came out. It was the woman who had given me the tour 7 or 8 years prior, and her teenaged daughter. I’m not sure if the mother recognized me or not. I nodded in their direction while continuing my neighbourly conversation, and they kept walking.

At that point, I realized that my old home was not only not my home any more, but it was really, fully, someone else’s home. And that other children had grown up there. It was their childhood home, too. Well, not ‘too’. Just their childhood home. Not mine. No one else’s but theirs.

How do I say this without sounding ridiculous? Of course it’s obvious that someone else had grown up there. A young family with young children move into a house, and ten years later, voila, other children have grown up there.

But it’s not fair! My home has been taken by strangers! I have nowhere to go back to! I’m just a vagrant adrift in the world. Other people have a childhood home and I don’t.

It would be different if I had a real home of my own today. I have an apartment that I’ve been renting for the last two and a half years. It’s my “home” in a way. It’s where I live. My stuff is here. I’ve made it my own. But I won’t be here forever. I have no family here. It’s just my space. And I’ll probably move out and buy a place in a year or two. But even then, I don’t know if I’ll have a “home.”

I think I miss my childhood home because I have no other place in this world that even comes close to being my home. I don’t even really want to go back there. Last time I drove past it, I felt nothing for it any more. But it still haunts my dreams. The way it was. The only home I’ve ever had.

Some day, some Christmas years from now, I’ll be able to go home. I’m still waiting to see where that will be.

Hm. What to do, what to do…

Here I am, 33 years old, and I’m still wondering what to do. I have a job that pays well, and a comfortable lifestyle in a wonderful city (even if it is a little cold). It’s not that my job sucks. The company treats me well, and there is always an interesting challenge to keep me busy. But my destiny is somewhere else.

The trouble is, where? Am I even on the right path? Am I going forward or am I on a detour? Without knowing the destination, then any path will do, right?

I have a few hints about what I’d really like to do with my life. I am a talented writer and business professional. I’m funny. I’m smart. I ask good questions. I help people think through their own issues (even though I seem to be stuck in my own). I have a good sense of spirituality and what it means to be human.

Then I take a look at career options for people like me, and I cross them off the list one at a time:

Stand-up comic: Only a handful of comics make any money at all. The rest make just enough to supplement a part-time job. Besides, I think I’m a better writer than speaker.

Actor: Ditto.

Writer: Mostly ditto, except I’m a good writer. When I take the time to do it.

Guru: Hmmm… Will you be my disciples?

Everything I’m really good at and enjoy, pays next to nothing for most people who follow those dreams. It pays really well for Stephen King and Jerry Seinfeld, but not so well for the rest of us.

Other career options are ones I’ve thought of, that pay well, but somehow turn me off: Psychologist, Journalist, Copywriter. Not my thing.

And so, here I am a confused 33-year-old, still plugging along in mediocrity. I surf the internet and play Civilization for fun. Instead of igniting my passions and entertaining the world, I entertain myself with books and movies. Facing the obstacles in my path to greatness just seems like a lot of work.

On the other hand, I’ve already come a long way from where I was a few years ago (broke, unemployed, severely depressed, hopeless). If I keep making progress a bit at a time, there’s a chance I’ll get somewhere. In fact, I’m already moving forward in many areas.

Okay. Here’s a bio for a dream:

Craig Martin is an internationally acclaimed speaker and writer. He has performed in three movies: OUT OF STATE (2006), FROM THE HIP (2009) and LAST WEDNESDAY (2010), as well as co-writing THE GATES OF HELL (2012) and DRESS IN LAYERS (2013). He founded the non-profit microlending group Investors Without Borders long before his first million. He is still on his first marriage and is the proud father of two. His first book, Funny You Should Say That, sold one million copies in the first 6 months of publication. His second book, To Infinity and Beyond! is due out in January 2015.

Sometimes I get a little uncomfortable around people who are different from me. It’s not that I don’t want to be around them, or that I think less of them, it’s just that I’m trying to figure out how to relate to them. If I have a lot in common with someone, it’s relatively easy – I just treat that person the way I would want to be treated, and everyone is happy. But what about someone who is different?

The Golden Rule says that we should treat others the way we want to be treated. A friend of mine is a customer service consultant, and he turns that around a bit – treat others the way they want to be treated. And when you’re around someone that you don’t know, how do you handle that?

For example, I haven’t spent very much of my life around gay men (that I know of). So when I’m talking with one, what do I say? How do I relate? Am I homophobic for being uncomfortable or uncertain? I could just assume that he wants to be treated a certain way based on my preconceptions of how a gay man would want to be treated, but then most of the time, that means supporting gay stereotypes, and who wants to be treated as a stereotype?

My next-door neighbours are from Russia. My neighbour down the hall is from Sudan. The Sudanese guy drives a cab. (Ooh, stereotype!) He drove me to the airport once, and we chatted. I was “uncomfortable” with him, because I didn’t know him and wanted to figure out where he was coming from. I was trying to figure out how to relate to him. I was not avoiding him and I didn’t think less of him for being African. It was not a bad discomfort. It was the kind of good discomfort you might feel being invited to a really fancy home for a really fancy dinner party, and you want to make sure to use the salad fork for your salad and not the seafood fork. It’s a different environment requiring different behaviour.

I want to do what’s right. I want to treat people the way they want to be treated. (Unless the guy’s a real jerk, but that’s another story.) And because of that, I’m uncomfortable around people different from myself – which makes me a chauvinist or something.

Comments?

I just finished watching a video of a show I recently did with my improv group. Wow, do I ever look weird on camera. I got a very different perspective on my stage presence. Some hints to myself for potential improvement:

1. Work out more, buddy. Your shirt was taking up too much room on stage. It would have been okay if the video was shot in widescreen, but unfortunately it was made for TV.

2. Less blocking, more flow. I noticed that Jay, especially, is very good at taking a cue (“offer”) and running with it. The others were pretty good too. I was pretty good at throwing ideas out there, but I could have given more energy back to the offers being sent my way.

For those not familiar with improv theatre, I’ll explain. To make an improv show interesting and fun, everyone has to keep up the flow of responding to each other’s ideas. Because there is no script, it’s all about building an idea on the spot. So if Jay says, “Hey, let’s go to the park!” the most improv-friendly thing I could say is “Ya! That’s a great idea! Maybe we’ll bump into those hot girls we saw the other day.” Respond positively, and build on it.

The wrong thing to say – and there is such a thing as right and wrong with improv – is, “Na. The park is stupid. Let’s do something else more fun.” And stop.

That last line is called “blocking.” (Not to be confused with “blocking” in mainstream theatre, which refers to the placement of actors on the stage.) In improv theatre, “blocking” is when you block someone’s idea and stop the flow. I never intentionally did this, but it happened when I didn’t listen properly to what the others were saying. Perhaps I was too busy in my own head thinking of something clever on my own, instead of taking the offer (the other guy’s line) and building on it. I didn’t exactly say ‘no’ directly. But there were a few times when I simply didn’t respond at all to what someone else was saying or doing, and I headed in a different direction entirely.

All that said, I had a great time doing the show, and I’m looking forward to more improv shows in the new year.