Looking for Beauty

Today on my morning walk, I was listening to a TED Talk listed under the broad category of Beauty that centered on happiness and how humans related to this particular feeling.  As TED products go, this one was middle of the road for me in terms of inspiration, but the speaker did address an interesting result from a study associated with happiness in relationships. Apparently, one of the conclusions of the study was that it took five positive comments for every one negative comment for people involved in a relationship to characterize that relationship as happy. The speaker's thesis was that this skewed result is due to the fact that we, as humans, are hypersensitive to negative input as a survival mechanism. This survival technique was really very useful out on the plains 10,000 years ago, but it is less valuable now when physical survival is not nearly the front and center concern that it once represented.

Later during the walk, I was talking to Rory, and he suggested that he'd awakened and was a bit down in the dumps. We talked about that for awhile, and eventually, he got around to asking me one of his standard questions in the wee hours before twilight. "What are you looking forward to at work today?"

I've been doing the same job for about two years now, and the bulk of my actions are mostly associated with keeping bad things from happening. It's important work, but if I'm honest, it's not very inspiring work.  It is the day to day attention to detail that I'm pretty good at executing.  It'a also a far cry from what I'd characterize as being an exploration, experiment, or adventure. I've known periods where all of my existence seemed like one, two, or even all three of those things. Those periods were both exhilarating and intensely rewarding. Working the problems using my wits, knowledge, and sometimes brawn (such that it is) and dexterity against unknown odds in the face of uncertainty is what I always imagined I was training to do when I was growing up.

Alas, things aren't always high adventure, but right now the truth of the matter is that I'm not going out of my way to look forward to much of anything at work. The things I look forward to facing are the walks, the learning through reading and listening to smart people, jogging, creating something new, experimenting in the kitchen, etc. My work now facilitates my ability to do the things that I look forward to doing.  I do look forward to getting out on a ship underway for trials and any opportunity to travel, but that's about it as far as work is concerned.

In response to Rory's question, I asked him what sort of beauty he expected to encounter today. He said, "Good question. I don't think I've ever put that much thought into that before. I'll have to think about it."

Moonset on the Anacostia

Since I started walking, I think about encountering and appreciating beauty on a regular basis now. The recognition of beauty started slowly at first over a year ago, but I've found that once I started observing it all around me, it was almost impossible for me to not approach the observation and appreciation in a deliberate manner.  I find that unlike the speaker suggested in the TED Talk, I'm less sensitive to negative situations, and I'm more attuned to positive circumstances. Looking for beauty has changed the way I view the world and my life is much better for the happy accident that evolved into a deliberate seeking of the goodness that flows all around us.

Sunrise over the Anacostia

Today I saw beauty in the moonset and sunrise over the Anacostia River. I also saw beauty in the architecture, air, dogs, fellow humans, and some pretty sweet cars in between these two events during the course of my walk.

I even recognized beauty in the chuckle brought on by a joke, and the happiness shining from the face of a newly married bride and groom as I ground out the pedestrian (no pun intended) task of oiling the gears of the bureaucracy to make sure they kept grinding along.

I don't know what I'll encounter tomorrow, but I am looking forward to and seeking the beauty.

Wanderlust

Today, I finally had a good opportunity to capture a photo of Jeff Koons' stainless steel statue titled "Kiepenkerl" which is on display near the Jefferson Drive entrance to the Smithsonian Institution Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden.

Kiepenkerl by Jeff Koons

This statue is based on the Travelling Peddler statue in Munster, Germany which was originally cast in 1896, destroyed in 1945, and subsequently re-cast and on display contemporaneously.

I've always been struck by the way this sculpture seems to capture a bit of the wanderlust that my walking allows me to experience.  The historical peddler in northern Germany served as an intermediary between the city and the countryside bringing wares for sale in his pannier as well as letters and news from the surrounding countryside.

It actually took me quite a while to dig up any real information on this sculpture, and that surprised me a little.

I was also once again treated to a glorious sunset with the Anacostia River in the foreground.

Anacostia River Sunset

Today, the new residential building that is quickly rising out of the river plain across from Nationals Stadium appeared to be a raging conflagration or the collar on a brightly burning torch.  I remain in awe of the fact that (so far) no matter how many times I've been the witness to similar events in similar locations, I still find the differences and beauty of each of these moments compellingly moving.

Another Day of Surprises

I'm beginning to think that I'm going to have to come up with a new topic, or at the very least, a new series of titles.  Needless to say, today once again did not turn out as planned.  That "unique" event associated with a helicopter and the U.S. Capitol I told you about yesterday.  Well, it appears it is not so nearly as rare as I imagined, since it happened again this morning.

Helicopter on the Capitol Plaza

As I was being shooed away from the scene of what I later learned was the second of two days of emergency response drills, I decided to exercise just a tiny little bit of civil disobedience and question the Capitol Police Officer who was doing the shooing.  When I asked, "Why can't I walk through the plaza?" in my normal fashion I was initially responded to with a shrug and vague arm waving in the general direction of the helicopter.  Since the rotors weren't turning, I sensed no immediate danger and said, "I can see the helicopter, but I want to know why I can't walk toward it.  I don't think asking why is an unreasonable request."  At that point he started moving in my general direction giving every indication that I might be on the receiving end of some zip cuffs rather than an answer, so I skedaddled. 

None of that was what I expected when I woke up this morning, but the little jolt of adrenaline it caused was a welcome boost of energy, and I didn't end up in zip cuffs.

During my lunchtime walk, I was minding my own business when a series of relief sculptures caught my attention and brought my mind back to my freshman and sophomore years in college.

A Midsommer Nights Dream Relief Sculpture

Back during those heady days, "Doc" White, with his unique perspective and teaching style that challenged us pie eyed freshman to challenge our assumptions and start seeing our circumstances for what they were rather than swallowing the narrative that was being fed to us had me convinced that it would be a good idea to double major in English as well as Mechanical Engineering.  That coupled with the fact that, had I been successful, I would have graduated with a B.S. in English made it seem like the pursuit might be worth the work.

That notion was soundly removed from the list of some of my other ambitious goals when I encountered the last of the "Four Horsemen" of the Mechanical Engineering Department as my Dynamics professor.  I'm not sure what he was professing, but let's just say that I was near the top of the class with an exam average that was hovering around 65%.  It was tough, and the amount of reading and writing for my "extra" English classes was consuming vast quantities of what I liked to call time.

Before dropping my pursuit of a B.S. in English, I did work my way through two semesters of Shakespearean studies.  I learned among other things that Bill S. was a rabble rouser and bit of a rogue, inventing new words from thin air and then weaving them into a bawdy verbal "tapestry that was brilliant in color and blinding in intensity" (Patrick F. McManus, whom if you haven't read his short stories, I highly recommend them).  Bill S. was also a man of the people writing plays to entertain.  Through all of that he became a giant of English literature and culture to the extent that the Folger Shakespeare Library is a prominent landmark along the walking route that I frequent.

I didn't expect that a landmark I pass every day would evoke this kind of freewheeling mind dance, and I don't know why it triggered it today.  I also don't know if I made the right decision some 22 odd years ago in applying most of my focus on the Engineering trade rather than the study of literature.  What I do know, is that my life and my walk today were richer for the fortunate synchronicity of both of those events separated by a two decade time gap.

I'm grateful for "Doc" White and the impression he made that I fondly remembered today.

Slow Golfers Crossing

Today was a less than productive day on the "way I'm currently earning my living" front.  The relative unproductiveness of the day can be directly tied to a degree of inflexibility in certain bureaucracies that I had not personally encountered in quite some time.  Be that as it may, suffice it to say that if you ever find yourself in being an employer, it probably is not in your enterprise's best interest to create obstacles in getting your employees to work.  I'll have spent over a day and a half trying to solve a relatively simple problem that probably could have been handled much more efficiently.

It's interesting because I believe that the universe is in general conspiring with us to help us be successful, and today was one of those days where it didn't really feel that way.  A friend of mind is fond of saying that the lesson will be repeated until it is learned.  While frustrating, today's activities MAY have been a not so subtle message that I may be engaged in the wrong kind of work.  It's a bit early to tell, but that notion bears careful consideration going forward.

Even though the day did not progress as hoped and expected it really was a good day.  During the first segment of walking that I finally got to much later in the day than I had planned, I stumbled across the following sign.

Another message from the universe?

Was the universe sending me another message?  If so, what was the key point?  I believe this may have been another message from the unimaginably powerful energy flows that all empirical evidence suggests are trying to help me along in my journey. 

The key in this sign is the caution or supplication to taking it slow.  It's interesting because it is clearly a message to machine driven non-pedestrian traffic.  My walking, and the golfers' progress may appear to be slow from the perspective of a vehicle, but I wonder if that perspective is whence we should be taking our cues.  Actually, I really don't wonder about that at all.  I've come to believe that life moving at the speed of a car is a life that is somehow a little more sterile than a live lived from the perspective of the pedestrian on foot.

I've walked quite a few miles over the last 11 months, and I've discovered things in places that I'd previously considered familiar that I wouldn't have observed nor experienced at vehicular speeds.  I'm sure I've even seen these things before, but without the plodding pace of the march, I was unable to truly observe them.  A little after seeing the sign in the picture above, I came across this vista.

YP Boat Basin at Naval Support Activity, Annapolis, MD

I've been past this location a number of times in a vehicle and even several times on foot at a jogging pace.  I'd never, until today, really observed the view.  Today I did see and had the time to observe.  It was a fantastic perspective for a number of reasons.  Principally for me, it allowed me to regain some serenity from the perceived troubles (some First World Problems).