Actions

Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.
―William James


I subscribe to Real Simple's "Daily Thought" email. Every day, first thing in the morning, a quote like the one above wings its way to my inbox to amuse or inspire me. I loved this one, especially paired as it was with this picture (any subtle hints to my husband are purely coincidental), because it reminded me how often I take my own actions for granted. And it got me thinking; how would I act if I was always aware of the difference my actions could make? I tried this today and here's what I've come up with so far today:

• took a few extra minutes this morning to give my kitten undivided attention rather than shooing him from my computer's keyboard. Difference: It put a smile on my face and he seemed to enjoy it.
• took out the garbage and recycling in preparation for our trip. Difference: Now I don't have to ask my husband to do it tonight and I'll come home to a better-smelling apartment.
• sent an email out to my fraternity telling them my plans if elected president of the alumni association. This going to take a big belief that I can make a difference, because I want to implement some pretty significant changes.
• wrote back to some of the people who have emailed or facebook messaged me because I always feel a little odd when I write a friendly note to someone that goes unanswered. Difference: maybe I've averted a friend's sense of awkwardness at my non-response
• used my lunch break to get a bikini wax and pedicure in preparation for the beach. Selfish? Absolutely. Difference in my mood and sense of self: immeasurable (plus such a good feeling meant the woman who performed these services got a great tip).
• focused on my posture while walking today (my new dance teacher has me thinking a lot about this) Difference: I feel more attractive and more confident. This feeling will inevitably bleed into my interactions today.
• Responded with more friendliness and generosity of spirit to my typical customer service issues: people wanting free tickets, vendors wanting us to use their services, and complaining customers. Difference: Much friendlier responses than I usually get and potentially good karma for my company.

Something I'm noticing now that I'm reading through this is how dramatically my choices affect my experiences. Of course that's logical, all of our actions are going to affect us the most, and then those closest to us, and then those we encounter, and so on and so on, but it's nice to know that I'm not as much at the mercy of fate as I sometimes feel I am. Maybe I don't have the power to change the world today, but my actions can still make a difference to those around me and in my own life.

What would you do differently if you were more aware of the difference you make?

Letting the Music Back In

Hello music, it's me again.

I know I've left my Ipod dormant while reading on the subway in the morning. I know I haven't been putting you on when I'm lounging around the house or when I need a distraction at work, but I've had my reasons.

I've never been a music-in-the-background kind of girl. The concept of putting music on just to ignore it has always escaped me...what's the point? If I'm not singing or dancing along I have trouble putting it on (or maybe the reverse is true, I have trouble not singing and dancing along when I put it on). I never knew that the biggest sacrifice of giving up my car to live in New York would be the loss of the perfect, private space to blast a good song and sing at the top of my lungs. Now my life is often noisy and often crowded.

But I haven't been keeping you out to spare my neighbors or my husband or even because I'm too busy. The real reason I've kept you out is that I haven't been doing much for myself lately, and in my mindset of getting from day to day I've been missing the larger picture of what I need to be happy.

I need you, music.

And last week, I found you again. My friend encouraged me to go out for an audition for Candide at a locale theater troupe. I put off preparing an audition and almost didn't go, but at the last minute I pulled something together, marched out the door, and after three hours of listening to other auditions (and about 4 million renditions of "Poor wand'ring one"--all dull as hell) the music was flowing through me and the high E-flat I'd worked into the end of my piece happened effortlessly. By the time I got home, the floodgates were open again. I pulled out every musical theater anthology I owned and sang every song I knew until about 1am. I sang my husband to sleep, and then I kept going. I haven't gone a day without singing since.

Welcome back.