At 8am (when I started this), it was a brisk 53 degrees and sunny. I had already gone out to have some breakfast and had taken a short walk around the neighborhood. From the window in my hotel room, I could see the sun hitting the Golden Gate Bridge and the mountains beyond. It also lit the top of the lone palm tree that’s found a way to flourish between the backs of the buildings.
I was very tempted to walk to the waterfront after breakfast or go for a run, but I remembered that I’d be walking a few miles to an apartment showing, and probably a few more miles over the course of the day. My thinking was that after the apartment, I’d walk through Golden Gate Park to the beach and then back to my hotel – which would be 12 miles round-trip. At first, that seemed like a lot, but then I remembered that this was race weekend in Philadelphia and that a half-marathon, which I’ve run, is 13 miles.
My thoughts in the morning were split between how I’m often trying to control my environment to create ideal outcomes for the future and how two decades of conditioning have made it difficult to break old habits and establish news ones.
Control
A lot of odd, if not useless, thoughts have come up as I’ve tried to settle in and choose a place to live. They’ve ranged from the practical (does the place have on-site or in-unit laundry, what’s the parking situation, how walkable is the neighborhood – coffee shop, bar, park?) to the semi-practical (how accessible is public transportation? – this is only semi-practical because I don’t have a job and I don’t know where I’ll be publicly transporting my ass on a semi-regular basis) to the very impractical (if I live here would I be willing to date someone who lives across the bridge or in a different part of town? Is this hill too steep to walk up or down if I’ve been out at a bar? Is there a place where I can run?).
To some degree, all of these considerations are about trying to influence and/or control my future happiness. I don’t want to pick a place to live only to find out I hate it or it’s very very very inconvenient.
What I easily, and often, forget is that I (and people in general) tend to adapt to current circumstances. In Philadelphia, I stumbled upon Bishop’s Collar which became a regular hangout for my girlfriend and I. In State College, I discovered Otto’s where I met a great group of guys who became good friends. I’ve taken jobs that had long and tedious commutes (1.5 hour train rides to New York City, 45 minutes drives to Broomall and to Altoona). I’ve met and dated women (and even got engaged to one) who lived a solid 45-minute drive away. I’ve adjusted to, learned from, and even enjoyed some or all of those things. I also tend to forget that there are dozens of other factors that I can’t control for or figure out until I actually live somewhere (decent neighbors, quiet-ish neighborhood, quick repairs, mice, roaches, etc.) Even great places in great locations have some uncomfortable and unanticipated issues.
Generally speaking, I think this dithering over where to live (and it’s only been a week), this trying to make the best choice for my future happiness, is a little tied to this week’s theme of comfort zones. Our comfort zones are those places in life (geography, experiences, jobs, relationships) where we feel safest and most in control. I want a place where I can settle into a routine (or a few routines) – especially in those moments when I most need a routine. The coffee shops and bars are where I get some reading time, social time, and people watching time in. I’d like to find a place to run where the scenery is interesting (I’ve loved the canal path in Yardley, Kelly Drive in Philly, The Marina here, and the Mississippi in Memphis – I kinda hated the suburban neighborhood in State College). The dating thing… well, commuting sometimes became an issue – who drove to see whom type of stuff. I think more than anything, I’m looking for a place that won’t be a barrier to fulfillment and joy. If I’m too far from the things I like, I’m less likely to go out an enjoy them. Without access, my comfort zone will shrink to the size of my apartment. Part of why I wanted to move here (and to a city) was to get out of the rut I felt I was in while living in central Pennsylvania (and some of what I felt living in Yardley).
I’ve looked at half a dozen apartments in a few different neighborhoods. All of them seem serviceable, and most of the neighborhoods have some, if not all, of what I’m looking for. I’m trying to acknowledge that this isn’t a big deal and that I’d probably be better served not trying to optimize outcomes. The worst that happens (because I know which neighborhoods to avoid) is that I’m mildly miserable for a year.
Conditioning
That second thing I was thinking about in the morning was how I’m finding it difficult to work at night – even on personal projects (though I am finishing this at night). I find it harder to exercise later in the day, harder to read or write, harder to do just about anything other than go have a drink and unwind. Even in my current state of not having anything from which I desperately need to unwind… I find it harder to look for jobs and apartments in the evening. Once four or five o’clock hits, my mind and energy enter shut-down mode.
I’d like to change this – or at least modify it. It’s not terribly convenient to have certain hours of the day off-limits to productivity. Perhaps I’m not being entirely fair in that assessment. I like to explore and do things at night like go to shows and dinners. If I’m going to socialize, I like to do that at night as well. Those activities are, or should be considered, productive. They lead to different types of growth and they provide the outside stimulus for poetry, paintings, and understanding (or at least observing) the human condition. But when it comes to “getting things done” like writing poetry, editing, submitting, or doing “serious work,” the hours after dinner are not my best hours and because daytime hours have been devoted to exploring neighborhoods, looking for apartments, and looking for jobs, I’m finding that I’m not doing some of the other things I’d like to do (also, I’m probably a little over-stimulated by newness).
I’ve been trying to think about why this perceived inability to work at night is a thing. Perhaps the problem is one of imbalance – too much stimulation and seeking during the day. But, as best as I can tell, I think it’s a matter of conditioning. I’ve been trained over the course of twenty years of professional experience that quittin’ time is when I yabba-dabba-do, slide down the brontosaurus tail, foot pedal my stone-age car home, and get to relax. And one thing I’ve really grown to enjoy over the years are the moments when I get to turn-off, tune out, and relax.
But I don’t think it’s just work that has been part of the training/conditioning. For those of us who like to eat, I think we associate our evening meals and weekend meals with a type of luxury that we don’t typically afford ourselves during the days of the work week. Lots of people (in America) skip breakfast and have a quick lunch on the go or eat at their desk. Evening, and the evening meal becomes a threshold of sorts. It marks a transition from being on deadline to having time to ourselves and with the people we care about. I know I’ve put a premium on that time of day – which is why I think I struggle to break those old habits and mindsets and develop new ones.
By the time I got back from my long walk today, all I wanted was an early dinner and a nap. The weather was amazing, the park was both massive and impressive and at the very end, it opened up to an ocean view. I sat on a bench by the ocean for a bit and then hoofed it back to my hotel. I was glad I spent the day the way I did. I like seeing the different neighborhoods, trying out different cafes, and I love the sunshine. I don’t know what it’s like back in PA, but October/November are usually the beginning the six-month cold and gray season in State College.
I’m anxious (in the excited/good way) to get on with a few things and establishing myself somewhere. I’m looking forward to cooking again. I’m looking forward to setting up my own space that’s bigger than a hotel room (though some apartments aren’t much bigger). I’m looking forward to finding some work, getting new colleagues, and learning new things. And maybe… with a little stability, I can shake of my desires for control and shake loose my conditioning.