In the age of big box stores, chain restaurants, and strip malls, it’s getting increasingly difficult to find and hang onto a sense of community. When my son was born, I knew that I wanted him to experience my hometown in a way that would foster a sense of appreciation and loyalty and make him feel compelled to fight for it one day.
And so we avoid the chains and shopping centers as much as we can. We spend our time and money instead in downtown York, an area that has overcome much but still has far to go in its renaissance.
I often say that witnessing downtown revitalization in York has been like being underwater and watching air bubbles rise toward the surface. It feels like there are more and more bubbles all the time, and they’re all about to break the surface at once. And we’re fortunate to have a front row seat. I have sat on boards and committees for organizations and projects that address needs and issues relevant to the City, and the downtown district in particular.
And much of our free time is spent just hanging out and enjoying all the downtown has to offer. We have been unaffected by the concerns and misconceptions that keep many people from visiting downtown (crime and lack of parking are two of the biggest perceived barriers; neither have ever presented a problem for us).
When my son pulls up a stool at Mezzogiorno inside York’s Central Market House, they bring him his usual drink without him having to order. Other customers greet him, ask how basketball is going this season and whether he’s started piano lessons yet. When we’ve finished eating, we stop at some of his favorite market stands, if not to purchase anything, at least to say hello. We catch up with friends and acquaintances, and a few of the homeless guys who we know from the time they spend in the market, the library, and one of our favorite downtown parks. Then we meander around the block, stopping by some of our favorite shops, where everyone greets us by name. This does not happen when we run errands in the suburban shopping centers. Ever.
Having a minor league baseball team in town has further strengthened the familiar, neighborhood feeling of our downtown. The staff greets us – again, by name – when we enter the stadium, and we run into tons of people we know while we walk around the concourse. We purchase a partial season ticket package each year, so we’ve gotten to know the people who sit near us, as well. I love the social interaction I get from the ballgames, without having to sacrifice family time. And having a home team to root for does wonders for bringing a town together.
We come downtown for special events like outdoor concerts and the annual holiday tree-lighting ceremony. We go to shows and film screenings at the Strand-Capitol Performing Arts Center. We volunteer to help install mosaic murals, plant flowers, clean up litter on sidewalks and in parks, and serve occasional meals at the Rescue Mission.
With limited time and financial resources, it’s important to us to buy local and support these businesses and community initiatives that have brought meaningful interactions and depth to our lives. I have built both powerful business relationships and lasting friendships through my love of downtown York.
I believe in our downtown - and in its potential - and will do what I can to help it, in my own small ways, to grow and flourish. And I know that one day, whether he lives here or not, my son will continue to support downtown revitalization, too.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Things I've Learned: Prelude to This I Believe
I'm hoping to post here at least once a month. A little more often at first because I'm excited to have an outlet like this. As much as I love to write, I have always had a hard time journaling consistently for any length of time. So this may give me a way to keep up with it. I'll start out slow. I've got reminders set on my calendar for monthly posts, just to make sure I don't let too much time go by in between.
My plan is to start with a series of essays about things I believe in, things that are of paramount importance to me. I enjoy listening to the This I Believe essays on NPR, and the blog will serve as my own spin on that theme.
But for now, I'd like to share my list of Things I've Learned, which I originally posted on my Facebook page some time ago. Hope you enjoy them...
So here are a few things life has taught me. These are things I learned the hard way, presented here for you in hopes that you may find something useful so that perhaps you may avoid "the hard way." They're my general rules (well, guidelines, really...I've never been one for rules), the things I try to keep in the back of my head at all times to minimize frustration, heartache, and annoyance.
1. Never date anyone with a nickname that includes the word "crazy."
2. Protect your ears and eyes. This includes wearing earplugs at concerts and sunglasses during the daytime.
3. Wear sunscreen.
4. Moisturize. Every day. If you doubt the value of this advice, take a look at my father's face. I'm a believer.
5. No matter how hard you work to always do the right thing, the course of your life can still be dictated by the consequences of someone else's actions. Do not let this discourage you from doing the right thing anyway.
6. Spring for better seats whenever possible.
7. Splurge on good shoes.
8. Always send a note.
9. Never buy a brand new car. It just doesn't make good financial sense.
10. Know when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em, when to walk away, and when to run.
11. Look people in the eye. And not just people you know - the cashier at the grocery store, strangers you pass on the street, everyone with whom you interact. See how it changes things.
12. Do not let the time or geography that stretches between you keep you from letting someone know when you're thinking about them.
13. Shave your legs, on account of You Just Never Know.
14. Be particular. (This is an official maxim of the Sweet Potato Queens. If you are unfamiliar with the Sweet Potato Queens, shame on you. Go read their books. Thank me later.)
15. Do not try to "potty train" your children. This advice (which was given to me and I heeded when Carter was little) will save a TON of grief and aggravation for both you and the child. They'll do it when they're ready. Have you ever heard of a 30-year-old who was still in diapers? Relax.
16. There is no substitute for good company. Be very picky about whom you choose to spend your time with. It is better to be left alone than to be left with just anyone.
17. Practice conscious gratitude. Always.
My plan is to start with a series of essays about things I believe in, things that are of paramount importance to me. I enjoy listening to the This I Believe essays on NPR, and the blog will serve as my own spin on that theme.
But for now, I'd like to share my list of Things I've Learned, which I originally posted on my Facebook page some time ago. Hope you enjoy them...
So here are a few things life has taught me. These are things I learned the hard way, presented here for you in hopes that you may find something useful so that perhaps you may avoid "the hard way." They're my general rules (well, guidelines, really...I've never been one for rules), the things I try to keep in the back of my head at all times to minimize frustration, heartache, and annoyance.
1. Never date anyone with a nickname that includes the word "crazy."
2. Protect your ears and eyes. This includes wearing earplugs at concerts and sunglasses during the daytime.
3. Wear sunscreen.
4. Moisturize. Every day. If you doubt the value of this advice, take a look at my father's face. I'm a believer.
5. No matter how hard you work to always do the right thing, the course of your life can still be dictated by the consequences of someone else's actions. Do not let this discourage you from doing the right thing anyway.
6. Spring for better seats whenever possible.
7. Splurge on good shoes.
8. Always send a note.
9. Never buy a brand new car. It just doesn't make good financial sense.
10. Know when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em, when to walk away, and when to run.
11. Look people in the eye. And not just people you know - the cashier at the grocery store, strangers you pass on the street, everyone with whom you interact. See how it changes things.
12. Do not let the time or geography that stretches between you keep you from letting someone know when you're thinking about them.
13. Shave your legs, on account of You Just Never Know.
14. Be particular. (This is an official maxim of the Sweet Potato Queens. If you are unfamiliar with the Sweet Potato Queens, shame on you. Go read their books. Thank me later.)
15. Do not try to "potty train" your children. This advice (which was given to me and I heeded when Carter was little) will save a TON of grief and aggravation for both you and the child. They'll do it when they're ready. Have you ever heard of a 30-year-old who was still in diapers? Relax.
16. There is no substitute for good company. Be very picky about whom you choose to spend your time with. It is better to be left alone than to be left with just anyone.
17. Practice conscious gratitude. Always.
I Don't Know How She Does It
OK, so here we go...first post.
Thought I might start by introducing myself, by way of explaining the name of this blog.
I've got a lot going on. I have a...shall we say, precocious ? 8-year-old son, Carter. I have a full-time career. I am a part-time student. I am active in my community. And recently, to help pay the bills, I've had to take on freelance copy writing, proofreading, and event planning projects. I've also made a commitment to attend these crazy yoga/pilates core & strength classes at least once a week in an effort to incorporate some exercise into my mostly sedentary life (the doctor says it will help combat stress and anxiety).
So, yeah, I keep pretty busy.
People are constantly asking questions like, "how do you do it all?"
I have always been baffled by these questions. How do I do it? I dunno...I just do.
But 2008 was an extremely difficult year. I had some major life changes to deal with, while trying to hold it together for Carter's sake and simultaneously keep everything afloat. It took a tremendous amount of effort and left me exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I am not exaggerating when I tell you I spent every evening of almost the first six months of 2008 sitting on my couch, crying and staring at the wall (OK, well, crying and watching VH1 reality shows...don't judge me).
I started to think about that question: "how do you do it all?"
And I started to doubt myself. Suddenly it felt like too much. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe one person couldn't do that much. So I cleaned house (not literally. I'm allergic to cleaning). I resigned from nearly all my volunteer commitments, no matter how important they were to me. And I continued to lie on the couch. Life had slowed to a barely-moving pace to which I was not accustomed and all that was left were the issues I had to deal with, like it or not.
In 2008 I was stripped down to the very core of who I am. The proverbial push had come to shove and I got a good, hard look in the mirror. And you know what? I feel really good about what I found there. My beliefs and values were tested and did not waver. And while a brief moment of self-doubt made some room for me to process what was going on in my life, I won't ever doubt myself again.
I began to emerge from the darkest, most difficult time of my life, slowly, cautiously.
About halfway through the summer, through a serendipitous chain of events, a group of acquaintances launched a series of get-togethers. We'd been discussing an impending Monday and how we weren't looking forward to it, rarely looked forward to any Monday. This led to the idea of creating something special we could all look forward to on Mondays, taking away the doom-and-gloom stigma Mondays always seem to have. Thus was born the "Monday-Schmonday" parties of 2008.
We would get together at a different person's house each week. Everyone would bring something, and we often had a theme (Ooooh, I just love a theme). In addition to a core group of committed participants, there was a rotating cast of characters who would attend based on the location, date, etc. We represented a broad range of ages, backgrounds, and lifestyles. It was a perfectly magical mix of people. We would sit around in backyards and on patios and eat and talk about nothing and everything and we would laugh...a lot. Carter and I bonded very quickly and very deeply with our Monday pals. I was grateful for the Monday parties while they lasted (we abandoned them when summer ended and the weather turned cold) because one of the primary lessons I learned this year was to be very picky about who I spend my time with. I had also become hyper-sensitive about surrounding Carter with people who would be good role models, showing him, by example, what it means to be kind and compassionate and loving. They became extended family to us, lifting us up during a very difficult time.
And this was to be my re-entry into the world. My coming-out. I emerged a little worse for the wear in some ways, but certainly stronger, and with a crystal-clear understanding of who I am.
As the leaves started to change and my tomato plants died off and everyone put away or covered up their patio furniture for the season, we all agreed to go on Monday-Schmonday hiatus and resume the fellowship once the warm weather returns in the spring. I hope we do.
Carter went back to school. He signed up for sports. He begged for music lessons. I took a deep breath and faced the fall semester. I planned programs and events for work. I took on freelance projects. I agreed to chair a committee. I registered for yoga at a new studio downtown. Life returned to its normal level of craziness.
How do I do it all?
I had a mantra I repeated over and over to myself throughout 2008. It was a difficult year, and every time I felt like I couldn't possibly take any more heartache, couldn't possibly accomplish all that needed to be done, every time panic started to settle in, I would stare it down and remind myself that people go through worse all the time and they come out just fine. You get through it, you do it all, because you don't have a choice. There's nowhere to go but straight on through.
Straight on through....
Straight on through....
Thought I might start by introducing myself, by way of explaining the name of this blog.
I've got a lot going on. I have a...shall we say, precocious ? 8-year-old son, Carter. I have a full-time career. I am a part-time student. I am active in my community. And recently, to help pay the bills, I've had to take on freelance copy writing, proofreading, and event planning projects. I've also made a commitment to attend these crazy yoga/pilates core & strength classes at least once a week in an effort to incorporate some exercise into my mostly sedentary life (the doctor says it will help combat stress and anxiety).
So, yeah, I keep pretty busy.
People are constantly asking questions like, "how do you do it all?"
I have always been baffled by these questions. How do I do it? I dunno...I just do.
But 2008 was an extremely difficult year. I had some major life changes to deal with, while trying to hold it together for Carter's sake and simultaneously keep everything afloat. It took a tremendous amount of effort and left me exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I am not exaggerating when I tell you I spent every evening of almost the first six months of 2008 sitting on my couch, crying and staring at the wall (OK, well, crying and watching VH1 reality shows...don't judge me).
I started to think about that question: "how do you do it all?"
And I started to doubt myself. Suddenly it felt like too much. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe one person couldn't do that much. So I cleaned house (not literally. I'm allergic to cleaning). I resigned from nearly all my volunteer commitments, no matter how important they were to me. And I continued to lie on the couch. Life had slowed to a barely-moving pace to which I was not accustomed and all that was left were the issues I had to deal with, like it or not.
In 2008 I was stripped down to the very core of who I am. The proverbial push had come to shove and I got a good, hard look in the mirror. And you know what? I feel really good about what I found there. My beliefs and values were tested and did not waver. And while a brief moment of self-doubt made some room for me to process what was going on in my life, I won't ever doubt myself again.
I began to emerge from the darkest, most difficult time of my life, slowly, cautiously.
About halfway through the summer, through a serendipitous chain of events, a group of acquaintances launched a series of get-togethers. We'd been discussing an impending Monday and how we weren't looking forward to it, rarely looked forward to any Monday. This led to the idea of creating something special we could all look forward to on Mondays, taking away the doom-and-gloom stigma Mondays always seem to have. Thus was born the "Monday-Schmonday" parties of 2008.
We would get together at a different person's house each week. Everyone would bring something, and we often had a theme (Ooooh, I just love a theme). In addition to a core group of committed participants, there was a rotating cast of characters who would attend based on the location, date, etc. We represented a broad range of ages, backgrounds, and lifestyles. It was a perfectly magical mix of people. We would sit around in backyards and on patios and eat and talk about nothing and everything and we would laugh...a lot. Carter and I bonded very quickly and very deeply with our Monday pals. I was grateful for the Monday parties while they lasted (we abandoned them when summer ended and the weather turned cold) because one of the primary lessons I learned this year was to be very picky about who I spend my time with. I had also become hyper-sensitive about surrounding Carter with people who would be good role models, showing him, by example, what it means to be kind and compassionate and loving. They became extended family to us, lifting us up during a very difficult time.
And this was to be my re-entry into the world. My coming-out. I emerged a little worse for the wear in some ways, but certainly stronger, and with a crystal-clear understanding of who I am.
As the leaves started to change and my tomato plants died off and everyone put away or covered up their patio furniture for the season, we all agreed to go on Monday-Schmonday hiatus and resume the fellowship once the warm weather returns in the spring. I hope we do.
Carter went back to school. He signed up for sports. He begged for music lessons. I took a deep breath and faced the fall semester. I planned programs and events for work. I took on freelance projects. I agreed to chair a committee. I registered for yoga at a new studio downtown. Life returned to its normal level of craziness.
How do I do it all?
I had a mantra I repeated over and over to myself throughout 2008. It was a difficult year, and every time I felt like I couldn't possibly take any more heartache, couldn't possibly accomplish all that needed to be done, every time panic started to settle in, I would stare it down and remind myself that people go through worse all the time and they come out just fine. You get through it, you do it all, because you don't have a choice. There's nowhere to go but straight on through.
Straight on through....
Straight on through....
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