5 Dirty Words

Caught your eye, didn’t it? I know it caught mine. And no, it’s not what you think.
Like most Portlanders I tend to have an eye toward conservation: I take public transportation to and from work, I combine trips when I’m out driving around, I recycle, I even compost.

In the first part of May, MINIGirl and her family took a trip down to Southern California so I had the opportunity to “sublet” her parking spot in the garage next to our office building for a week. In the two and a half years I have worked in that office I hadn’t once driven myself to work. In fact I frequently extolled upon the virtues of taking MAX to work daily, and for the most part those still hold true.

After the week was over I gave MINIGirl her parking pass back and went back to my daily commute on Max. I hated it. I’d had a taste of freedom and now I was locked back in to the schedule that the MAX set for me. So I began to think to myself: “What if I drove to work everyday?” But logic hits me upside the head noting all the money I save by taking the MAX, and how virtuous for the Earth it is. So I quietly take my seat on the MAX and contemplate what another few months of light rail commuting would mean.

In between podcasts I looked up at the posters that line the walls inside the car and I see one from TriMet: “5 Dirty Words: POLLUTION. Fact: 4.2 tons of smog-forming pollutants are avoided every day by leaving our cars at home and riding TriMet.”

GUILT. Pure and simple. How selfish of me to want to shave ten to fifteen minutes off of my commute home and contribute to global warming.

If you would like to read the rest of TriMets 5 Dirty Words look here.

MAX Annoyance

Normally I like taking the MAX to work. It's usually consistent. I know if I get to my station at a certain time I'll get a specific train and get to the office on time if not early. But in the last two weeks it hasn't been the max that has been the cause of irritation, but people on the MAX. It causes me to wonder if there’s such a thing as common courtesy any more, or if people’s own needs and wants come before doing something kind for someone else. Does the golden rule no longer apply?

Just this morning I was sitting playing with my phone, listening to music, generally entertaining myself during the thirty minute ride in to down town. This woman was standing, holding on to the bar behind me and repeatedly elbowed me in the head, so many times in fact I was beginning to wonder if it was accidental.

Last Friday on the way home we pulled in to a stop that many people get off at in order to catch a bus. A kid (I use this term lightly as he was probably 15 or 16) instead of waiting for all of the people to offload before he got on pushes through with his muddy bike hitting me and a few other people putting the bike on the rack.

On the Monday prior, usually a busy day for the light rail system, an older frail looking gentleman climbed on to the train. He looked in the priority seating area for a seat, which common courtesy and general concern for another person would have dictated that one of the six people in these seats should have offered him their seat, but none did. In fact, they all seemed to purposefully avoid eye contact and hope that one of the other passengers would give him their seat. Finally a man standing nearby asked one of them to give up their seat and they did so. That shouldn’t have had to happen.

After riding mass transit to and from work for over two years I still appreciate the system for it’s finer points, but there are days when I just shake my head and can’t believe what I’m seeing.

MAX Quiet

I've written about taking the MAX to work every morning before but this morning as I was waiting for the train I couldn't help but think of the different feeling each MAX station has depending on its location etc. Recently I've started using a station that is probably about two minutes closer to my house but before a major intersection that drives me crazy during the rush hours. As I was looking around this new to me station I couldn't help but feel that it was so much more remote and secluded than the others I'd been to and I think that's partly due to the protected wetlands on the west bound side and the undeveloped field on the east bound side. The other station a little further up the track feels much more urban has parking lots and buildings on both sides. Personally I prefer the new station because of its remote feeling. This morning the fog nestled itself neatly among the trees of the wetland and at the furthest edge of the field making the station feel quiet and encapsulated and so much further from the bustling city that I am going to be taking the train to.

Jesus and Buddha walk into a bar...

I was thinking this morning on my walk from the MAX station to work about a conversation I had with one of my coworkers about two weeks ago. I happened to mention in passing friendly conversation that I was a Religious Studies minor in college. Typically I’m reluctant to mention this fact to people, especially coworkers, considering it is a touchy subject for many and I don’t think it is very appropriate to discuss religion at work. In fact, it just may be against the law. Actually, I don’t really remember what brought it up but what I do remember is the conversation that ensued.

A little background on me: I was raised in a Christian family, and was quite active in the church up until I went to college. My beliefs went through an adjustment period as I grew and changed and came into myself as an individual. Hubby’s family is, for the most part, Jewish with the exception of Hubby’s Mom who practices Bon. When asked, I typically respond that I am a Buddhist because the majority of what I believe is encompassed in Buddhism. I’m not going to get in to the deep recesses of why I believe what I believe, suffice to say that it is my choice and I have put A LOT of thought in to it.

Let’s get back to where this all started - that conversation. What it came down to was me trying to explain to her as how I viewed the Buddha in terms similar to Christianity. Somehow, I managed to end up comparing the Buddha to Jesus. This may seem to be a strange bridge but allow me to explain. Christians generally believe that Jesus came to earth as a means by which God could save the sinners from Hell. Similarly, Buddha found a way to escape Hell – in Buddhist terms this would be continual reincarnation and the suffering that is life – and shared. That is not where the similarities end. Both taught to love, be kind, be spiritually faithful, and one can escape from Hell. Now, to clarify, I’m not saying that the Buddha is “the savior” in the same respect that Christians consider Jesus to be their savior. Buddha (which means the enlightened one in Sanskrit) would be more of a prophet or a teacher, the one that figured out the key to enlightenment for the everyday practitioner (or Average Joe Buddhist). Buddha came in to the world as a Hindu and didn’t necessarily intend to start his own religion. Similarly, Jesus was raised as a Jew and probably had little intention of starting his own religion either – he was sent to put people on the right path.

I realize that comparing Christianity to Buddhism may seem like comparing apples to a prickly pear, but my personal understanding is that most religions when you take away the dogma all come down to two things: answering the question of powers larger than us as humans, and being a good person.

As ShoeDiva would say: “I’m just sayin’…”

The Guilty Conscience Strikes Again

I’ve written about this before – but I think it is a common topic among writers – finding inspiration. I have been so busy traveling for work lately that I have all but forgotten about my blogging duties. That could be just an excuse, but I’ll never tell if it is or not. Technically, I’m already doing better about my blogging consistency than I was last year and that is probably a good thing. I think I have subconsciously committed myself to posting to my blog at least once a week whether it’s a second hand article or I’m just “phoning it in”, and when I don’t I feel guilty. So I suppose that’s where blogs like this come in.

On my commute to work this morning I spent some time on the MAX thinking about what I should blog about next. I don’t want my posts to be too garden-centric, so I ruled that out. I don’t want to post about work or traveling for work, although that may come up at a later date, I’m tired of thinking about it right now. But again I come back to feeling like I’m writing for an audience and not for myself. In reality I should just be writing about whatever I want to write about and not what I think people might want to read. So, I guess ultimately this blog post is just going to be two things: me feeling guilty for not posting, and me not knowing what to write. Maybe I should just take the advice of my college professors and all of those years of participating in NaNoWirMo and just sit down with the intention to write and something will be produced. Lovely, I’m sure that will be incredibly entertaining.

I don’t know if anyone that I don’t know is reading this or not, but if you are reading this and would like me to write about something feel free to leave a comment. Cheers!

At Your Administrative Assistance

I was talking to OfficeNinja on the MAX ride home the other night and we were discussing various projects we were helping out with in the office. She, being OfficeNinja / the in-house go-to when things need to be done, and me, being the Gatekeeper/Assistant at Large, get quite a few projects from various people in the office. What brought up the upcoming part of the discussion was a result of me overhearing someone that I had helped with a large project of theirs talking about said project. I proceeded to tell OfficeNinja about my frustration with not getting any credit for helping out or contributing to the projects, just contributing to someone else’s glory or “the greater good”. I’m fine with helping out on a project, don’t get me wrong, it is a part of my job after all. The part I’m frustrated about is “all the guts, none of the glory”. I suppose that just means I’m annoyed with being a measly assistant instead of a mover and shaker in my company.

Previously I had been happy not to have the responsibility (and the hours) that those positions required, but now I really want to do something other than entertain interviewees, transfer phone calls, and do someone else’s work. Perhaps a lot of the enjoyment I got from working this job previously was a result of me working at The Bank and allowing myself to screw up enough to get fired and send myself into a depression. I liked only taking responsibility for the simplest things – answering the phone when it rings, signing for deliveries, checking the mail regularly, typing up meeting notes coherently, etc. After a year in this position it seems like child’s play now. Maybe that’s just a sign that it’s time for me to move in to something more challenging. Don’t get me wrong, I love working at The Company, always have. There’s a great energy here that would be difficult to find elsewhere. So my goal is to get another job within the company – something that doesn’t require a MBA – and see where it takes me.

Spare A Quarter?

As I mentioned in my previous post I am now working downtown. It’s interesting how different “the city” is from out in what may lovingly be considered the suburbs. This has become blaringly apparent to me in the over six months I have been working in the heart of Portland’s downtown.

One major thing that I notice daily, and hope to avoid more often than not, are the panhandlers. Technically they aren’t doing anything wrong as long as they don’t interfere with the “progress” of the pedestrians (the same goes for those trying to get petitions signed and handing out pamphlets) but realistically what do they expect from us, the passerby? They probably know that they aren’t going to get hundreds of dollars especially since a majority of the passersby do so regularly. The panhandlers I pass regularly have found comfort in front of a Rite Aid store that is almost to the MAX stop, so I am forced to walk by them every day in my best attempt to get home.

There are those that my heart breaks for, those I am annoyed by, and those that I wish would just go away.

My heart breaks for: the man who sits in a wheel chair on the sidewalk, no matter the weather, every morning with a small sign that says “I need money for the basics: Rent & Food.” He looks to be a veteran and not capable of doing much else to provide for himself. I would much prefer to buy him a cup of coffee or a sandwich than just give him some spare change and hopes he will get by.

Those I am annoyed by: He is an older man with a long beard and leather jacket. He looks like an old biker type to me. I am pretty sure he is not homeless since I have never seen him with any type of belongings other than what he is wearing. His position floats so I can never be sure as to where or when I will run in to him, but I seem him at least once a week. His standard greeting is an overly enunciated: “Spare a quarter?”. Something just bothers me about his demeanor and tone of voice. I suppose he’s much more abrasive than I expect a panhandler to be.

Those I wish would go away: There’s a group that looks to be in their early twenties that always have a beautiful and well behaved pit bull with them. This group varies between talking amongst themselves with their collection hat set out on the street to asking the passerby for money and then yelling something to / at them after they walk by without responding to their request. I’m pretty sure that this group has chosen this way of life, which makes me feel even less like tossing them a quarter.

I have nothing against these people, or panhandlers in general, but I think I have become hardened to their presence because I am guaranteed to encounter at least one everyday. I don’t want to feel like they are just taking up sidewalk, I feel badly that I have lost my humanity toward them and a part of me wishes that I could help them out and give them what they really need and not just a quarter. The reality is though that I know I can’t give them what they need; perhaps even they don’t know. I can barely give myself everything I need right now. Call me cold hearted if you will, but I realized not to long ago that I would quickly make myself broke if I gave a quarter every time to each panhandler that asked.

Driving Me Crazy

Since starting my newest assignment a little over a month and a half ago in downtown Portland I have experienced a new joy: our light rail system, lovingly called MAX (Merto Area Transit).

At 7 in the morning I leave my house, still encased in the morning darkness of early fall, I have an easy drive with nice light traffic. The opposite is usually the case once I get on the train. The start of the week is normally fuller than the end, but by the time I get on there is little chance of me getting a seat let alone finding an open wall to lean against while I read. It pleases me from an ecological sense that so many people take advantage of this form of transportation rather than driving to downtown.

My choice to take the MAX every day instead of driving was both ecological as well as economical. I'll be honest, it's more so the latter if one takes the following into consideration. Gas is now at $2.95/gallon and the drive is 10 miles each way, parking downtown can be a little stressful to find first of all and can cost upwards of $10 a day, taking all of that into consideration driving myself downtown could get expensive really quickly and I would like to keep more of my paycheck. At $2.05 per ride (less if a monthly pass is purchased and you ride the MAX more than 37 times in a month), and for me a three mile drive to the station, the exchange is well worth it.