Strange

Saw a friend in Irvine that I only speak with a couple times a year, and see maybe annually. I've had such great conversations with people lately when saying goodbye that it makes me wonder if I'm making the right decision.

How would I ever know?

Mania

Energy needs to be focused to be properly utilized. Without a conduit and a direction, it is liable to leak everywhere and eventually disappear. This is why some people who excel in school find themselves completely lost once they graduate, if their next step is not clear.

I spent a good chunk of the day reveling in air conditioning on a very hot day and watching my brother's pet rats run through their cage with manic energy. It's exhausting to watch, especially when I'm trying my best to conserve energy so as not to warm myself to an unbearable temperature.

Sometimes I feel that same mania coursing through my mind. It's largely a product of anxiety mixed with optimism. I could go to Switzerland, or maybe British Columbia might be nice; I should clean the entire house and hang the curtains that've sat in the corner for months; I want to bake all the things; it'd be nice to be a concert pianist, maybe I should do that: the world is out there ready for me to take what I can and be all that I can and what do you mean I have to calm down and go to work tomorrow in order to pay my bills?

It's manic energy and sometimes I suspect that it's the opposite of motivation. Motivation is more stable, it's more focused, and it's more effective. That mania isn't even motivation to the extreme--it seems to be a mental reaction that I have to freedom.

Being caged sucks. It's very restricting to have barriers and limits, to want and need to push against them with all your might in order to feel some semblance of freedom. But think back to the pet rats. Their cage is a safe place that they crave, especially when they feel overstimulated and just want to go home. If we take them from their cage and place them onto the floor of a wide-open living room, the opportunities are endless. Yes, they still have limits, as they can't very well fly around the room, a piece of cardboard or solid furniture stops them, and sudden movements are terrifying, but the choices are endless. Should I go this way or that? Do I want to hide under the couch or sit out in the open? Do I want to be in this box or in that box? I want my cage back!

There's a phenomenon called the Paradox of Choice (which itself is being disputed by scientists about whether or not it exists, but plenty of anecdotes certainly support the theory), that asserts that if there are too many options, it becomes increasingly difficult to choose among them. I experienced this earlier today in the deodorant aisle of the store: Dove, Mitchum, Secret, Toms, unscented, blueberry blackberry, fresh, revive,  etc, etc, etc. It was, quite frankly, overwhelming, and I got the same kind I just ran out of, despite the fact that it wasn't my favorite. The choices were simply too much--it was easier to stick with what I know.

In my mania, I recognize this same paradox. If I'm free, I can go anywhere and do anything, tethered only by my financial and intellectual limitations (not to mention workplace skills). If I'm caged, say, in Los Angeles, or in a specific industry, my options are more limited, but I am able to focus so much more clearly. This is not to say that the end-result or goal is necessarily more or less appealing than what it would be were I to be fully free, but, that focus is there. The energy is focused, and I am not as manic.

This focus is important and I am currently searching for it. I need to escape my mania.

The Negative Side of Negativity

Everyone complains.

I caught myself complaining about difficulty I was having with a project at work by saying that the day was terrible and the project was terrible and everything was going wrong. After I'd made my case, I realized that it wasn't just the frustration talking. Actually, I quite enjoy a challenge, and I'd only become upset with my inability to solve the problem quickly. I wasn't having a bad day, but I was in the habit of having bad days, and framed my current complaint in that same language. All in all, I'd actually had quite a good day, all things considered, but I wasn't used to looking on thinking of my day that way.

I'd fallen into the habit of complaining.

But I'm not that far gone. My preferred adjective of choice is awesome, and I'm a big fan of happy emoticons, particularly ones that seem to confuse other people :_D <@:_D

I have a couple friends who have fallen into the habit of complaining to such an extreme that I cannot remember the last time that I heard a positive (non-sarcastic) word from them.

Blind optimism can be as annoying as perpetual pessimism, but it's striking how much your approach to life can influence your mood and the way you relate to others.

Probably the saddest story that I know is the way my Grandmother cannot go five minutes without criticizing or complaining about someone or something. I can't count the number of times that I've gone to a restaurant with her only for her to ask to be moved because the vent is blowing on her (this happens every time without fail), or hear how the hostess sat us too close to the kitchen, etc. I once watched her loudly berate her 92 year old husband for improperly recalling his own age.

I complain a good deal. But I recognize the pessimism within myself, and I strive to overcome it. The positives in life are everywhere, and I never want to be too blind to see them.