TORQOPIA - Abundance All Around Us: Two thousand seven begins

Well, it's the seventh day of two thousand and seven. Wassup?

I'll be 41 this year. Forty was fine; I don't like the look of 41. Maybe it's just that it's a prime... I don't like how indivisible it is. :-)

And had dinner the other night with my friend Bette who said that he prefers years ending in even numbers along with 0, 1, 5, and 9. That leaves 2007 out in the cold. On the other hand, Bette, a long-time curmudgeon (Hi, Bette!), seemed more upbeat than I did, so who knows?

Still, I think something shifted for me yesterday. I took some steps to bring some clarity to the murkiness of last year's career and financial choices. And somehow, things that had really been getting me down seemed a little less weighty. Nothing really changed except my perspective, which in the end, is probably the only thing that ever really does change.

I've been spending more time with old friends lately; I'm reminded of a great quote from Gail Godwin, the writer:

One is taught by experience to put a premium on those few people who can appreciate you for what you are.

Now I don't know if my old friends really appreciate me, but at least they've been around long enough to have at least made their peace with who I am.

MY FRIEND SHAYNE has been selecting an annual "theme for the year" for almost a decade. This year his theme is "Taking it to the next level." I've been thinking about what that means for me.

I'm finding myself feeling very "in between" these past few weeks: in between young and old. In between my software engineering career and the new one (life coaching and fitness training). In between the habits and pursuits of the past 14 years which have been so fun (though draining, too) and whatever follows when one finally moves on from the hyperstimulation of clubland. (Told Bette I was going to start the Post-Clubbers Club :-)

None of these transitions occur all at once. Or do they? In 2002 Bette and I were waiting for the airport shuttle outside of the Wyndham Palm Springs. It was New Year's morning, and we'd been dancing to Phil B. a couple of hours earlier; our plan was to catch him again that night at Mass in SF. I asked Bette if he had a guess as to how he would know when he'd been to his last circuit party. Would he know immediately? Would something so awful happen that he'd just never go back? Or would it only be in retrospect that he'd realize that he hadn't been to one in several years, and probably wasn't going again?

I don't remember if he had an answer; my guess was that something would occur and I'd make the decision not to go again. Now, five years later, I suspect it will be more of a gradual fade out, with the time in between growing longer and longer until, well, it just doesn't happen again. I had been planning to go to L.A. for NYE with Tommy and Ken this year, but backed out two days before I was to drive down. Instead I opted for a lavish dinner party followed by an all-night pajama party. Smaller events fit my mood better, and I didn't even find myself second guessing my decision at the last moment. Hmm.

I spent Christmas at Teddy's with old friends, and since then I've slowly begun to be reminded of the possibilities of life. I've lived in my apartment since March, but everything I own has been in storage in Portland. I finally scheduled a move date to get my stuff down here; I already feel more grounded. There were times in the past month that I really questioned my return to SF. Now I see that there was a lesson in coming back: I tried the old stuff and fell into old patterns; it didn't work out too well. I got, at last, that it's up to me to figure out what's next. I know a lot of people in similar situations: getting older, remembering the certainty of life a decade ago, now figuring out what to do going forward. Some of them seem to be doing pretty well, and I'm trying to learn from them. Others are floundering a bit; I'm learning from that, too. I lay in bed one night a couple of months ago, thinking that my life was in shambles. But in thinking about other people's lives, I realized that one could say the same thing about almost anyone. And as we say in the Wisdom Course, "this is what your life is like when it's working." :-)

TEN YEARS AGO I WENT TO PUERTO VALLARTA for the first time. My VP at Oracle had given the division a week off; James and I flew south for our first vacation together. Now I'm going back, in April, for nine days with friends. The accomodations are free; I'm using miles for a first class ticket. Doesn't get much better than that.

Ten years ago I also met Teddy, my Christmas day host. I know because I ran across some old emails while looking for something else. One was Bette's write-up of Gay Pride '97, which James and I missed as we were down in PV at the time. The other was written a couple of weeks later. The emails were interesting for two reasons. First, OMG, how did we ever live that way?!? How absolutely crazy! Nothing today in SF compares to the go-go-go environment of the mid- to late-90s. God, was it ever fun! But maybe too much fun, lol.

Second, the emails were interesting because here I am ten years later, still hanging out with many of these folks: Tommy, Bette, Michael, Madison, April, Pakalika, Teddy, Shayne...

Ms. Godwin was dead-on with her quote. All of you people from the Joy Luck/Universe days: thanks for being there then, for being here now, for trying to figure it out alongside me. Love you!