#365Gratitude Day 303: Ingress Progress

Last night this happened. 

I'm level 8. In Ingress parlance that means I've got my training wheels off, I'm wearing the big boy underpants, running with the big dogs now. 

There are PLENTY more levels to go, but they're MUCH harder to get.  

Now I'm ready to go play at anomalies, which are like nerd sporting events. 

The best part of this whole thing is that my wife Missy is even further along than I am, and even more into the game than I am. I love love love sharing this with her. It's fun to do this as a team.  

She's my best friend. We're just the same pair of shmoopy lovebirds we've always been. We leave each other shower love notes like this: 

I think having shared interests, shared passions, isn't just good game play, but good relationship work. Leveling in ingress is strengthening my marriage as crazy as that sounds. 

I am so grateful that my awesome, funny, sweet, charming wife shares my dorky passions.  That's the very best achievement unlocked. 

#365Gratitude Day 302: Taking Stock

Yesterday I got in a case of diapers AND some new pull-ups.

I feel so fortunate that I'm in a place in my life situationally, emotionally, financially, and sexually that this is just a regular part of my life. 

It's great that I can have a stock of diapers, great that I am often required to be in them by my loving wife, great that I can afford to make them a priority, great that I can openly have such a stock in an easy to get to place in my home, and great that they're just a normal part of my every day life. 

How's that for taking stock of things? 

#365Gratitude Day 301: Galactic Insignificance

So my day was going really pretty well, until about three hours ago when all at once it turned into a giant cluster fuck. 

The application I was working on suddenly didn't work in a way that was utterly inscrutable. What's more, the part that broke had exactly zippo mcnothingpants to do with what I had been working on. 

I got stressed out.  I asked $friendly_coworker for help, and he genuinely tried to help me, but none of his advice panned out for me.  

So I did the "nuke it from space" option, and blew away everything I had been working on that day, to the point of utterly rebuilding my development client. Those who do dev work know, this is a big deal. 

No effect. Same problem persisted, but only for me.  

Great. I sought advice from someone else, still no joy. 

Hours later, Friendly and I figured it out. It was because of something HE had done.  

I twiddled some things, rebooted, and VOILA!, everything was aces.  

Except I had thrown away my day's work.

I was feeling totally crushed and retreated to the sweet embrace of my Twitter feed when I saw this retweeted gem:

"About me: I'm enjoying a vacation as an alive person on Earth in between my multi-billion-year segments of nonexistence"

All in one fell swoop, the absolutely minute, minuscule, irrelevancy of my stress, situation, and setback were driven home to me.  

Millions of years from now, or millions of light years from where I'm sitting, what just happened to me is utterly meaningless.  

It's as ridiculous as getting upset when you go to the beach because a particular grain of sand you were looking for isn't there. 

My stressful moment is GALACTICALLY INSIGNIFICANT.

At the time it didn't feel that way.  But even now, just minutes later, as I age beyond it, I can see that that is so.  It's blissfully liberating.

One day, in a galaxy far from here, beings may come to exist who have no idea that I ever existed, and may never, as I will have long since perished. 

Weird as it sounds, I'm grateful for that 

#365Gratitude Day 300: Catching a Twain

I was doing some writing on the train this morning, and thinking about a famous quote by Mark Twain.  He supposedly said, "Write what you know."

It's taken me the better part of 30 years to understand what he meant, and absorb the importance of it, as an author.

When I write characters, experiences, plot details, humanizing aspects to the people and situations in my books, I do so following this important, possibly most important rule about writing.  

WHAT I KNOW is the way I feel when I'm sad, angry, happy, turned on, or curious.  But it's about more than just me.  An enormous part of knowing is being an observer of others.  

I also know the hundreds, maybe thousands of tiny little details in the endless variation of how people I know act, and react.  I'll take my friend Aiden's gender fluidity, my brother Spacey's firm, quiet resolve to learn something, my wife's delighted laughter and excitement, my friend Moliére's anticipation of finding new joys and tap into them.  I mix and match my memories of people, and the things which inform them.  

In a very real way, I've come to understand that writing fiction is a form of emotional alchemy.  You beg, borrow, and steal from your own life and that of everyone around you.   

Just this morning I was working on a character in a Littleton back-story of sorts.  He's a womanizing, misogynist, breast-obsessed judgmental asshole.  Lucky for me, I had a few jars of experiences with just such a person saved up, back in the memory store room.  I uncorked them, and poured them into this character, and worked up a nice good froth of healthy dislike for him.   

I'm grateful I figured out how to write what I know. 

#365Gratitude Day 299: Tickling? Kill me.

I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts this morning, The Morning Stream, episode 699.

Scott's sister, Wendi, who's a therapist, was on discussing the Gamer Gate thing. Really worth a good listen.  

Wendi and her family are living in Sweden lately, so these segments often end with her teaching the guys some funny thing about Swedish.  

Today's funny thing is that the Swedish word for "tickle" is "kill".

I think that's fricking hysterical. I'm grateful I learned it and that now you have too.