Monday, June 29, 2015
Biking to work
Tags:
Biking,
Twin Cities
Today I biked to work.
This is not the first time this has happened. In fact, the past three years I've been biking to work. I work at a restaurant in Minneapolis, and parking in the city is ridiculous and never available and expensive when it is available. So therefore, bike to work, get some exercise, don't pay for gas or parking, save the environment!! etc. etc.
This job (unpaid internship) I currently have is Downtown, and is 5 miles further away then my other job, but I decided on biking there too (for all the same reasons). Obviously, I discovered several benefits to biking to work.
Most recently, I have discovered how awesome Minneapolis is. Didn't I know this already? Apparently not.
There is a bike trail that goes all the way from Hopkins straight through St. Louis Park, across Highway 55 along the light rail line and into the city like the string of a balloon. The bike path itself is nestled down beneath the city, unnoticed by the cars and busses crossing bridges overhead. There is a whole other community down there.
Along the trail there are murals, gardens, and little biker-friendly pit stops, even a bike shop with an entrance right along the trail. There are stop signs, little street signs and lane markers, benches and graffiti, groups of people playing guitars or smoking, picking up trash, waiting for the train. This whole little atmosphere I didn't even know about until I became a trail biker.
Biking this trail from the south side of Lake Calhoun into Downtown Minneapolis is like getting the grand tour of the city, from the poorer parts to the richest. Every few minutes, I feel myself entering a new part of town as I cruise by on wheels.
Uptown: hipster, coffee-shops, clothing stores, bars.
Lynn-Lake and Phillips: eat street, foreign foods/businesses, rich culture and rich smells.
Cedar-Riverside: Apartments, murals on every wall, warehouses emitting smoke, lots of people walking in work clothes.
Mill District and Downtown: where I get off the path. Construction, Metrodome, business suits, fast walkers, food trucks, etc etc
This city plays host to all types. This small but powerful cultural hub is bursting at the seams with uniqueness, I feel lucky to get to see it all from the "tourbus" I ride to work every day.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Upheval
Tags:
living spaces,
thoughts
Almost four weeks ago I graduated from college, moved out of my dorm and back into my parents house in a flurry of emotion and trash bags full of crap. That weekend was so overwhelming. I think dumped all my stuff on the floor in my room, had some ice cream and wine and fell asleep at 8pm.
The week that followed was when it all sunk in. I'm back in my old room full of old stuff from my childhood, most of which I didn't bring to college with me for four years. Every year I seemed to bring less and less stuff, and every year I would bring a bunch of bags home early of stuff I hadn't used.
I had so much crap I didn't need.
That week I went into full purge mode. I ended up throwing away four trash bags full of stuff from my closet and donating 10 bags to Goodwill. I put all my stuff I didn't need now, but thought I might need one day (pots and pans, bowls, microwave, you know) and put a small box in my closet. I emptied all my drawers, shelves, boxes and bags and edited my closet down to two boxes, my guitar and ukelele and a small pile of shoes.
That was phase one. I was throwing away boxes from high school, middle school and elementary school, full of stuff I didn't even remember or had no idea why I was saving. I was giving away clothes I hadn't worn in years or had forgotten about. It was the "I don't even know what this is I'm getting rid of it" phase.
Then there was phase two. That happened earlier this week.
This was the real thinker. It involved true pondering about the future: what do I really need, what are the essentials to living if I'm moving out soon? Do I really want to take this with me when I leave?
This was the clothes and shoes I was only keeping cause I felt like I should wear them, but never really did. This was the posters and books that I was mostly keeping for show. This was the fifth unnecessary mason jar or the box of tea bags I've had for four years that I felt like I should drink. Getting rid of these things was surprisingly liberating.
Once I got rid of clothes that I never truly liked, I realized I had so much to wear. Everything in my closet is something I have worn a million times, and liked. All my shoes are awesome. All my books and posters are pretty to look at or stimulating to read. And none of this is to keep for show, it's for me. It's mine.
Everything I own and will take with me when I (eventually) move out of my parents house is in my closet right now. It all fits into a small space. This is incredibly liberating: I can just leave, whenever I want. And I bet you all my clothes fit into one or two trash bags now, instead of seven.
The next phase I'm anticipating is the object-by-object analysis. While going about my life, I will notice more and more things that are unnecessary. I will ponder this bag for a week and maybe get rid of it, I will test out these shorts for a few days and actually decide how I feel about them. If I'm not completely taken, things will go. Steadily, one by one. Not in huge chunks like they have been so far.
Geez will this post ever end???
In conclusion, getting rid of crap feels good. I am now completely aware of everything I own, which has never happened before. I emptied and analyzed and I really own everything in my space. And one day when I have my own space, there won't be that random box of crap I don't recognize. It will all be mine.
It's also a metaphor, I decided. Getting rid of physical things from past lives feels like letting the past lives go, and the inevitable leaving of a physical space where I've lived for so long feels like releasing everything built up about that space and that life and that time. Not that I want to forget. I just want to leave the space in peace, bringing all my roots with me.
Empty rooms, empty heads, amiright? Former packrat turned minimalist, out.
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