The Genuinely Nice Bus Driver Who is Looking for Someone Nice

I wonder if the emotions we project are the
same emotions we get back, no matter what time or place
we are in at any given moment. 
(photo by Tameca L Coleman, 
found on Colfax, graffiti in chalk, Denver)

On my way home tonight, I was greeted by a happy and polite bus driver who complimented me on my smile and manners. I told him thanks and went to a seat. He seemed nice. This made me smile more.

We talked for the length of my bus ride home or rather, mostly I listened and answered when an answer was requested. He related that he was ex-military and had moved from the city of Lost Angels because he couldn't find women there who were anything but hostile and mean. He spoke of the '70s and of how women seemed to be different then, maybe even people generally.

"There was more politeness. People smiled more. They complimented each other," he said.

He then related that he had been on a search for a wife for many years. He hadn't found her yet, not even after having moved to Denver, a city which upon first visit he considered much more polite than L.A. His move was sixteen years ago, probably many years after he had first checked out Denver.

Today, two ladies on the bus, myself and a girl in her early twenties had shown the bus driver that nice people still exist. I was happy that I was not in one of my grumpy or despondent moods.

So, I continued to listen. He went on and related that even here in Denver, women had become a bit sour sometimes and though polite, often distant as if their politeness was a face that they had put on with their makeup.

I wasn't sure what to make of all this but I was reminded of a video I had seen, maybe a couple of weeks ago, of a Q&A section on an episode of Soul Train. It was from the seventies and it seemed that every person who had gotten up to the mic to ask the band questions was soft and well spoken and coming from a place of utter genuineness. Also, no one pushed to the mic but listened and waited gently. Of course, this was television. It may or may not have had something to do with it.

I remembered the Q&A session because to me, it was so different than the way I see people portrayed in media now, or even at my work as a barista. Often, it seems that people tend to be more direct in such a way that seems quite rude, even for us Americans. We live in a fast paced world with many distractions, interruptions, and much noise. Cutting through it all perhaps has become a necessity (?).

I wondered then, if it was just a different time. The episode I had watched looked like it was from the seventies. Everyone in the episode seemed to take great care not only in their speech but in their dress. Despite them all being on air, it really felt as if the people here were indeed more gentle somehow, even with all of the things that were happening during that time, historically.

Proof that sometimes I am maybe not nice. If looks could
kill, right? 

Then I tried to remember back to places I have lived and visited and it seemed to me that there were nice people everywhere, mean people, too. It didn't matter if it was on the East Coast or West, the South or the mid-states. It could be small towns or bigger cities. Still, everywhere I've been, over 3 decades and then some, places seemed to feature all kinds of people, mean, nice, and of varying degrees. It didn't matter where they were from.

People seemed to interact with others by way of whatever experiences and interpretations of those experiences that they carried. To me, this seems to point to something. Despite changing times, despite tumult, being held in comfort or harms way, depending on what and how people carried things determined whether they were generally nice or not. Sometimes that meant inconsistency as each day carried perhaps different stresses or boons. Further, whatever perceptions were received probably had something to do with it.

I'm used to tired and over-worked bus drivers who say nothing to their passengers and are sometimes very curt and mean if they speak at all (depending on the route and how much they have to deal with) so it was a nice surprise to me tonight to be received onto a bus where the driver was smiling and happy and wanting to engage with me, a total stranger! I was more than happy to have a conversation with him. It was so easy, and just because he smiled and engaged.

I'm Counting on My Word

Selfie with a blue Billie

Many years ago, I'd picked up Don Miguel Ruiz's book The Four Agreements. It was a recommendation from a friend, one which I deemed as a good one. The agreements were so simple and still quite powerful. Powerful enough even to write a song  melody and lyric based on the first agreement.

The agreement goes like this:

Be Impeccable With Your Word. Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

Lately, I've made moves to make room for the work that I want to do , as well as the collaborations that have been forming. I've decided to follow a best friend's advice, "Just Do You." That means despite certain opportunities that I may be shirking, I am turning in and focusing on the promises I have made to myself. I can't keep promises outwardly if I can't keep them with myself. I have been having a hard time consistently delivering the kind of work that the projects I love and want to support deserve and part of that is because I have not been working on consistent delivery in my own life.

I look around my little apartment and I see the writing which has been started and piled on the desk but not redrafted, let alone sent someplace or being read by anyone. It's collecting dust. The dishes are piled in the sink. The laundry is unwashed. The room is a mess. The bill collectors are calling. . . .

I was reminded then of the song I mentioned above and I imagined, for the first time since its creation, singing it to my self. I'm keeping my word because I am counting on it. How else can I be happy with myself? How else can I be a success? How else can I have plenty enough and more from which to give?

Just Do You

 I walk with an aim for no fear and with movement
towards clarity, true love, and equanimity.
Doodle heart by Tameca L Coleman.

One of my new friends in music, Ahmad JP wrote the following on his Facebook page today: 

I'd tell you a personal milestone but my path is irrelevant to your own. So, just keep doing what you need to do for you and reap what you've sown.

I was annoyed at first. I loved the message but at the same time, it grated on me. 

I felt, and mentioned on his page, that there is power in telling stories. I'm thinking of all the times in which I have read something that hit me in such away that either inspired me to keep doing what I was doing, or to at least keep putting one foot in front of the other, while realizing that perhaps some of my stories might do the same for other people, as well. 

But that's the thing. I was inspired to keep doing my own do. 

I also wrote this in response to his post: 

Of course, most of us are too confessional, way too self-important. Our stories could distract others from their own due. Thank you, therefore, for the reminder that there's a gift, sacred and true, inside each and every one of us.

All any of us can do is speak to our own experience and tell how we did what we did. How we did something may not be true for someone else. We can teach our way and while there is value in that, there's more value, perhaps in getting to that spot within where the ingenuity of one's own essence can be sparked. This is a self-empowered light and I believe, the most powerful motivation and the most productive action. 

Ahmad's quote for me was compounded when I'd called my best friend for a check in and some help today. I told her, in frustration, about all the projects I was trying to do. Most of the projects weren't even my own. And you know what she said? "Just do you." 

It's not a message that is new. My Stepdad always said something similar while I was growing up, "'Meca, just keep doin' what you're doin'." 

Truth. I mean, what else can I do? It's more than fair to give my ideas a chance. If you want to hear about it, we can share. I might want to hear about your way, too. We can have tea and share our adventures and know that as long as we are walking in line with our own inner light and compass, we are doing our do, honest and true. In the meantime, I'm doing my work and perhaps my friend Ahmad is right about it. My experience is my own and the work is most important. We all have our own work to do and the prospects of that are simply beautiful (!).

I'm layin' down some seeds, and cutting loose the chaff for real this time. 

Also, if the message wasn't compounded enough, another friend who is becoming dear posted the following video by India Arie. I hope that it inspires you. 

I Never Was One of the Cool Kids

What can I say? Old habits die hard.
The back of my arm is apparently a
pertinent extension of my paper planner.

I used to use my hand. It was always covered with notes. Someone told me it was low class to do that and bought me a little paper notebook. I never did get the hang of it. I forgot all kinds of things. I need to get back to left hand scratch pad for notes technique; works much better for me. --Archduke Griffith.

In a previous post, I considered image and how it was affecting my communication effectiveness. Writing on my arm was one of the things that kept coming up and that I'd mentioned in the post. 

I had a recurring experience at work in which, while talking with say, customers,  I would notice them get distracted by my notes. Some would make a joke of it and I would play along. Some others would lecture me about how gross it was, or how it was dishonoring my parents somehow. Others would just stop in disgust mid-sentence and move on (and some folks really didn't care, which was nice).

Today, there were so many things that I needed to remember and I was running around without a pad or pen (save for the sharpie I usually carry in a pocket at work), so I again wrote the list on my arm. 

Old habits die hard and today, I made no excuses for them. I giggled at myself and continued to get my stuff done.

While meeting folks part way towards what they need for communication in order to get the communication done in a successful manner is important, while understanding where they are, their culture, if you will, I believe it is also important to consider and respect your own needs. Today, I did this. What's on my arm would not have been remembered had I not found a method that worked for me. Had I been at a networking event, job interview, or family reunion, I might have been very thankful that today, wearing long sleeves would not have given me the profuse sticky sweats. It's Fall! Otherwise, being a barista who is bustling behind the bar with a sharpie and some stuff to remember, shouldn't receive the flack it's been getting from the customers on the other side. And if the flack comes, why should I worry about it? I'm learning what works for me and going with it, respecting where I am as I would try to respect where anyone else is. It's not getting in the way of my work.

For whatever that's worth. . . .  It's meant as no offence to anyone. It's really just a way for me to remember to get my stuff done. 

Also, you may disagree. I'd be happy to hear about it:

I'm Stepping Back a Bit from Many Things, and This is Why

sunrise: downtown denver

Over the last few days, I realized something about myself that maybe I've always known but was never really able to put into words. I have this tendency to fall in love with other peoples' dreams. I get high on others' excitement of their dreams and I want to see those things happen with them. I get carried away. I want to be involved and be a part of a team that sees those dreams to success. As a result of this, I add everything I can to those dreams, often multiple dreams of others at once, until I feel pretty depleted. Lately, I have been flaking out on many things (and by lately, I mean something like the last five years or more) and I have had to ask myself why the flaking happens.

see. i wasn't kidding. this is saved stuff to sift through and to work on.

I have boxes upon boxes of unfinished work of my own in the closet; recordings (scratch tapes, drafts, poem snippets, etc.), journals, parts of stories, images, and even more ideas I haven't even written down yet. I want to get in shape, be able to travel, and create something meaningful. I want a windowsill garden, and to take better care of myself. I want to create substantial means for myself, maybe even a name in music and writing, perhaps in some other areas, as well. I would love for the writing and music and other projects to bring in some of the means I seek.

The thing is, I have been giving away most of my time minus the time I spend making a small means and sleeping.

I had been doing a lot of unaccounted for free and gift-based work for some non-profits, friends, and other artists in social media management and consulting as a way to experientially learn the trade since about last winter. I called this my internship and I was pretty happy to do all that work. I learned a lot, gained some trackable results, and even gained some references, as well.  At some point, however, something in me changed. I felt that depletion I've mentioned. I felt a little used, maybe, a little taken advantage of as the demands of this work increased. I wasn't sure why I felt this. I'd chosen projects that I was really excited about, and I'd chosen people to work with whom I adored.  I wanted to give my all. Still, the depletion. I woke up mornings with dread and simply no longer wanted to do any of it, especially after I'd figured out just how much time I was giving.

some new work i have been working on. nope. you can't see it yet.

Two or three months ago, a dear friend gave me some tips on learning how to bill. I considered this the next step in my internship, as I wanted to figure out how to market the skills and knowledge that I had been accumulating, or at least keep track of my pro bono work for tax purposes. I took out a notebook and a pen at the beginning of the month and began keeping track. I logged the projects and the hours spent while learning about how much people get paid to do the work. I learned that while my paying job took up about 120 hours of my month (which barely sustains me at present -- last month I deposited my laundry quarters into the bank to barely make my rent) my unpaid work added up to just as much time, if not more. Further, I was paying some money out of pocket to accomplish certain things required of the volunteer and gift-based work.

What I was doing was not sustainable. While there are many things I want to support, I have to really pull back and pay attention first to my own needs. I have to figure out ways to self-sustain and better so that I can have more to give without depleting myself or pulling the carpet out of the role of any project I may be assisting or heading. Further, regarding my own dreams: How much should I give and for how long before I can finally sit down and get to my own dreams? I have work to do but it can't all be in giving it away no matter how much I love someone, their project, their goals, their agenda, their dreams. <3 br="">

Image (or when in Rome)

I hate to admit it but the way I dress influences my communication effectiveness.

It's not new to me that dress influences perceptions and can create barriers or openings to communication. For most of my life, I've taken a very nondescript approach to the way I dress. I have wanted to be approachable while claiming that I'm utilitarian (so as to not let on that I am manipulating my dress for the sake of approachability). My typical nondescript style of dress works for stages, working in coffee shops, working in offices, paying visits to important people, being a pedestrian, matching clothes in a pinch or in a hurry, and washing economically (always in cold!).

Lately, I've become a bit lazy about the way I dress, however. My typical nondescript dress has transformed, I suppose, into a bit of a rebellion where I let my clothes wear out to shreds. I pull my hair back in a messy little bun and wear my shoes into the ground. I even write notes to myself on my arm.

I've been reading a lot lately about effective communication. It's become important to be able to communicate with many kinds of people because of the different kinds of work I do and because of the many different circles I run in. In one of the books I have been reading (Say Anything to Anyone, Anywhere by Gayle Cotton), I learned that there are only two kinds of communication: effective communication and miscommunication. Dress can be a form of miscommunication. For example, if you want to connect with people and you are slovenly in an environment in which slovenly is not the norm, people may have already decided whether you are worth listening to or not. This could be a crucial thing in some cases.

I also learned that in order to effectively communicate, one must be proactive, which sometimes means dressing the part when in Rome (to your level of comfort, of course). If I want people to open up, perhaps I should take more personal care in the way I present myself. If I want to be taken seriously, perhaps I should nix the crib note taking on my arm and find a proper pair of shoes. If I go to certain parts of India, and I want to proactively communicate, it may prove helpful to dress in the native dress to show that I want to be active in that community. If I go to a rock concert, it might be a good idea to not wear my business casual meeting attire but perhaps instead, a rock concert t-shirt.

I feel that many friends will say that this is a load. I think I have been saying this, too. Why should I change to fit someone else's expectations? Lately, while at work or wherever I am, I have had this sinking feeling that I am not taken very seriously or that I am somehow unapproachable (see rebellion cribs above). I would love to be able to just talk with people without having to cater my dress to whatever environment I might find myself in. It does seem, however, that the world doesn't really work that way. A first impression in most cases can make or break us, open us up to new conversations and bring on some strikes that are difficult to remove once pitched. I have to be proactive if I want to make an impression and further, the way I dress is a sort of communication.

Furthering My Geekery in Music: Researching the Concept Album

because i have no records in the house, i'm posting an old picture of thrown away tapes
from umpteen million years ago

My friend Matt Channing and I talk  a lot about music ideas, history, and techniques in our band rehearsals for Month of Sundays. One of the ideas that keeps coming up is the idea of the concept album. We've been talking about the concept album, really, because we want to make one (or maybe more than one! who knows!).

I've found that I don't really know a whole lot about the concept album. I mean, it makes sense to create a slew of tunes and also related performances around a theme. I get all of that. I just have never really thought about the concept album in depth until round about now. I'm suddenly smitten and curious. As a result, I've decided to do a little research and make it collaborative and interactive to those who might want to participate. Here's the link should you want to read, conversate, contribute, or offer insights/feedback/comments/etc.
--->
http://researchtheconcept.blogspot.com/