Rolling Shelf

One project always leads to another, especially when you're ADD (self-diagnosed anyway).  I have accumulated a good bit of lumber in my garage from my periodic neighborhood raids on garbage night.  In our town the garbage collector will pick up anything and accordingly, that's what people put on the curb.  We also happen to live in a 50-year-old neighborhood so there is constant remodeling going on.  Which means I score lumber, plywood, hinges, etc.  I just have to pull a few nails out.  Do you know how hard 50-year-old rough cut pine is?  It's so well seasoned it's like oak.  

The future shelving location

At any rate, after several months of "lumber shopping" I've got a pile in my garage.  If I'm going to get the new garage door up, I have to fix the ceiling in the garage.  To do that, I have to move the pile of lumber.  To do that I've got to get some shelves built in the shop to hold it.  To do that, I've got to clear out the pile that's already in the shop.  To do that, the planets have to align... you get the picture.  Well, I have limited space in the shop and if I'm going to have a shelf that will hold any sizable weight, it needs support about every four feet.  That means I can't just slide 92" studs on the shelf from the side since there will be support beams in the way.  I could slide them in from the end of the shelves but there's not enough room in the shop to get a board to the end of the shelf.  But wait!  I can build a shelf that swivels on one end and rolls on the other so I can slide the lumber in straight from the door of the shop!  Enter five hours of work and a trip to Tractor Supply.

I came up with the hair-brained idea to use 3/4" galvanized pipe with floor flanges to attach the swivel end to the floor and ceiling joists above.  The joists are only six feet high around the perimeter of the shop for upper storage.  These are the parts I contrived for that end.  The tee fits into holes bored into two 2 x 4s that run the length of the shelves.

Lower flange with tee

Upper flange with axle

The lower flange bolts to the floor and the upper flange bolts to the shelves and then is clamped to ceiling joist by two notched 2 x 4s.  The other end of the shelf has two 150-pound casters screwed to the bottom at a slight arc to accommodate the swing of the shelf as it pivots.  I may end up swapping these out for 300-pounders depending upon how well these perform with a fully loaded shelf.  Being cheap gets me in trouble sometimes. 

Casters mounted on an arc

After assembling the contraption, this is what the ends look like.  

Lower flange assembly as pivot point

Casters mounted at rolling end

You'll notice I'm not exactly using choice lumber here.  It's the straightest stuff I had lying around.  To mount the top flange and "axle" to the ceiling joist, I cut a vertical notch out of the joist about half an inch deep.  I then screwed two 2 x 4s about eight inches long together and bored a 1 1/8" hole between them.  After they are unscrewed from each other, that leaves a trough in each one.  I used these boards to clamp the axle to the ceiling joist.  Neither the axle or nipple on the lower flange are screwed in completely so the joints pivot.  A little graphite should help them stay mobile.  Once completed, I was pretty proud of myself... except I forgot to screw the vertical supports to the middle of each shelf.  I'll go back and do that at some point.  Here's a video of the "finished" self in action.  

Backup video:  Rolling Shelf on Youtube

You'll notice there's not much lumber on the shelf yet as I haven't brought any from the garage in yet.  Man, I hope it's enough room or the wife's gonna make me get rid of some.  That's like deciding which child you want to keep. 

Compost Bin

The middle of September will make one year in our first house.  I got a little ambitious on a few projects and I stopped before they were complete.  Something "more important" or time sensitive always seems to come up and then I forget about prior projects.  

Remaining Spring Garden with Future Plot at Right

One project that has been ongoing since April is our small garden.  It's about a 15 x 8 plot near our back fence.  I got a little ambitious with that project also and planted squash, zucchini, chili peppers, jalapenos, okra, peas, lettuce, mescalin, watermelon, and cucumber.  I discovered that's a lot of plants in such a small space, although it didn't look like it when we planted it.  You would think that having grown up in the country I would have known not to do that but I guess ambition got the best of me.  The watermelon and the cucumber took over neighboring lawn real estate and the grass grew up through the vines.  Likewise, I failed to thin out the peas and we have vines the diameter of your thumb invading the yard too.  

When the intense heat of early August arrived the squash, zucchini, and watermelon gave up the ghost.  The watermelon was simply crowded out by the broad-leafed cucumber vine.  The cucumber was still producing but only in the yard.  All the plant in the bed had long since turned yellow.  So I pulled all of those plants up.  I also thinned out some of the peas that were shading the peppers.  What to do with all this vegetation?  We always threw it in a low spot in the back forty when I was growing up so tossing it in the garbage can somehow seemed a misuse of refuse facilities.  Ha... "misuse of refuse." 

Future Site of Composting Nirvana

So now I have a pile of decaying vines in the back corner of my yard along with the pile of sod I pulled up when I planted the garden and a separate french drain project.  The area was already littered with cucumbers and okra that I didn't pick in time.  What's more, it's one of those spots in the yard that grass doesn't seem to like.  I think there used to be a small storage shed there in the past.  So what better place for a compost bin?

Compost bin.  Hmmmm.  I have no drum, no barrel, no plywood I'm willing to part with.  How am I going to make this thing?  Well, Serendipity was smiling on me for no sooner than I wanted some scrap something or other for this project than a neighbor down the street tore down their old wooden privacy fence.  And when I say old, I mean this thing has Amish barns beat.  So I sheepishly drove up to the unsuspecting pile, jumped out in my deck shoes and an undershirt, praying that the owners didn't come out.  After having successfully imitated white trash (or was it an imitation?) for five minutes, I headed back to the driveway to begin assembly.  

Long Sides of Future Composting Nirvana

Thankfully, the fence was disassembled in sections so I figured I would use the best of these two or three foot sections to build the side of my compost bin.  The rotten ends needed some trimming off and some additional corner bracing added, but I've now got the two long sides together.  And then I got distract... bird!  

Now I'm yearning to get this project complete in time for our massive okra and pea plants to come down.  If it wasn't for the fact that I doubt our neighbors appreciate the sound of a Skill saw at 9:30 at night, I might have had it done already.  

Wood in the Truck Bed

You can see what I have done so far.  It's two sections about four feet long.  I'm not too worried about the gaps between the boards since I plan on piling everything in the middle and turning it periodically.  Given the minimal organic matter we will be producing (I think) a 4' x 3' x 3' box should suffice.  I plan on using the compost next season to amend a new bed I want to add next to our existing garden.  Here's the stock of fencing I snagged for the project.  I've got enough here for some flower bed projects and maybe a bird house or two.  

Sanford and Son's Garage

I just can't keep it in the truck forever.  That means I need to get my wood rack put back together instead of laying under my pile of scavenged lumber.  There's a wood rack in there somewhere. and reclaimed 3/8" drywall.  What was I thinking?  Then there's the pile of gravel in the corner to finish the french drain along the back patio.  So much to do, so little will power to follow through! Believe it or not, this used to look a lot worse, as it had a couch and wing-back chairs from the 70s in front of the drywall last week. 

By the way, given my level of expertise, the quality of materials I have to work with, and reverence with which I hold composting, I fully expect the project will look something like the following when complete.

Okra Akbar

Compost Nirvana Completion

After being sick for almost two weeks I finally got the the short sides finished and the whole thing assembled in the back yard. 

I think it turned out alright, even though I had to shimmy the front corner with rocks to compensate for grade change.  I figure I'm going to have to get a pitch fork to turn it when it comes time but there's not going to be a whole lot to turn.

I put the new compost bin to good use and put all my pulled-up pea plants in it.  They were still producing fairly well but they had taken over two-thirds of the garden and about several feet of the yard on each side.  Besides it's time to get my winter garden in the ground.  I'm going to try it all from seed this time.  Here's what it looks like, sans peas.

Myopothy (Forest for the Trees Syndrome)

It's amazing how profound one can become in the wee hours of the morning.  But then when dawn breaks those thoughts seem much less meaningful when there are deadlines to meet and coffee to be made.

It was dark in the living room and the only light was my desk lamp in the next room.  I was reaching for something on the end table and as I was looking at it I realized I couldn't see it any more.  I know where it was; I caught a glimpse of it as I came around the corner.  But when it was right in front of me it was blacked out.  Hmmm, a mysterious disappearing object.  Maybe it's the next SlapChop! 

As I looked away just a few inches, the object came into view again.  I could see it if I wasn't looking at it.  That's because of the way the human eye is built.  We have the amazing ability to see in daylight and at night.  Most animals do not have this luxury.  We can see in sunlight and dim light because the cones (color receptors) in our eyes are the most dense in the middle of our field of vision while black and white (night vision) is enabled by rods that are located more in other parts of the eye.  So at night, we have a small black spot in the center of our vision that we hardly ever notice until we are focused on a singular object.  That's because the cones can't "see" it.  When we look away slightly, we pick it up in our peripheral vision thanks to rods.  Ingenious.

Enough of the biology lesson.  I think our individual lives are often much the same way.  When we are focused on a task, we are said to "have blinders on."  When we are so emotionally involved in a situation we don't make rational decisions, we "can't see the forest for the trees."  When we are self absorbed and don't pay much attention to the needs of others, we "can't see past the end of our noses."  This list goes on.

We get so caught up in what we are doing at the moment we lose the big picture sometimes.  I am forced to have personal pow-wows with myself when my myopothy keeps me from seeing what's going on around me.  Likewise, I have to reprioritize when my current perspective leaves me a little blind.  Sometimes it's good to ask yourself, "how is what I am doing affecting others?"  How does my current situation fit into the rest of life and the lives of those around me?  Are there adverse consequences to others from my decisions?  Is this a task that can be put off until after I have dinner with the family?  Will I miss playing with my son in the living room floor if I stay later? 

I was looking for that "object" in the dimly lit room but it didn't come into view until I looked away just a little.  That's when it came into focus along with everything else around it.  That's when I saw where it belongs, and most importantly:  how to reach it.

Daddy is a Super Hero

© University of Kansas Medical Center

Dad is a bona fide hero (insert West Texas drawl here).  I didn't realize it growing up but it's true.  He has endured a lot for his family and with little thanks.  I'm a lot like him; in some ways good and in some ways bad.  But who doesn't have traits they would like to change?  Now that I've experienced the world for a decade or so and have faced many of the same emotional trials myself, I have an immense appreciation for Dad. 

You see, one very strong trait that we share in common is that we are both fairly high-strung.  We're both "Type A's" and we're both burnt-out perfectionists.  Despite being deployed to a war zone, being separated from my wife multiple times, and other stuff that really doesn't amount to much in the grand scheme, the most difficult challenge I have faced is anxiety disorder.  It's 4:00 AM and I still haven't been able to find sleep.  My heart is racing.  Finally I succumb to taking drugs and sit here to blog while it takes effect.  I hate the drugs but blogging is therapeutic - like journalling.  I hate being dependent upon a little pill to calm me down at night and massive quantities of caffeine to get going in the morning.  That's what my Daddy endured for decades.  At least I have access to modern medicine. 

I suppose Dad did too, in the way that medicine has always been improving over the last few hundred years.  Dad had access to fewer tools than I do now to help regulate anxiety, depression and circadian rhythm.  But there are two things he didn't have that I do: 

1. A broader knowledge of "alternative" therapies.  We know so much more about what makes the brain tick now.  We know we can alter brain chemistry simply by training it through techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.  I think the only solution in Dad's day was "psychotherapy," and who wants to be labeled a nutcase or bread basket?  
2. A broader acceptance of the illness that is anxiety.  It's incredibly common now.  I see it on the faces of the hurried down-townites, raised on video games and multi-tasking.  Bleh!  What a farce!  Information abounds on the internet about the condition and even psychotherapy isn't the anathema I think it once was.  

What a difference a few years makes!  Dad has been dealing with this his whole adult life and is just now finding some relief.  After experiencing it myself, I honestly don't know how he overcame such a seemingly insurmountable obstacle.   Maybe he is cut from a sturdier stock than I.  Maybe his hide wasn't tanned and softened nearly as much as mine.  Maybe he's a super hero.

Somewhere inside me there's a lot of him.  That gives me hope.  Hope!  How ironic to find hope out of his life of anxiety, not knowing what caused his bazaar symptoms, and thirty some-odd years of looking for the silver bullet.  But that's where the hope comes in.  He has struggled with fulfillment, achievement, providing for his family, and all with a brain-fog hanging over his head.  He has purservered in a way few people can appreciate.  It's like becoming a triathlete but your missing a leg. 

It's hard to appreciate what I'm trying to describe (inadequately, I might add).  Imagine you're a high-strung perfectionist with big dreams.  Those dreams never really die, they just metamorphosize into the next related dream.  OK, sounds normal for any ambitious soul, right?  Now overlay on top of that feelings of anxiousness, constant agitation, inability to sleep, incessant fatigue, insufferable brain-fog like walking through your day with blinders and, Oh, say, a tub of jello to look through all day.  Compound that with nagging self doubt, a need for constant reassurance despite pushing away those that love you, and the fear that this condition will keep you from providing for your wife and three kids.  Now layer on the physical effects like constant headaches and back pain that the chiropractor can never figure out, heart palpitations and a racing heart, the feeling that you are floating above your bed, and inexplicable tender points in your head, arms, and legs.   Imagine this is you and doctors don't have a clue what's going on and all main-stream tests come back normal.  Scared yet?  Now add the fact that he really didn't have a lot of hope for improvement.  I know he must have succumbed to blissful apathy at times, only to wake up the next day with a bigger task ahead of him.  I think he may have been too proud or maybe the thought spending the family's budget on therapy just didn't feel right.  I know he tried it a time or two.  We even had a family session in which I let my adolescent hormones get the best of me and it became a discussion about what's wrong with me.  Helping Dad was cast to the sideline.

I remember very vividly one night when I was about 12 years old and my brother would have been about 9.  After Dad came home he chastised us in a tirade about cleaning up our room.  He never laid a hand on us the whole time.  Mind you, I'm in no way berating my dad.  He strives for excellence in whatever he does, even today, although I think all he could really control at the time was how clean the house was.  We felt pretty bad about the state of disarray our room was in and after being banished to our quarters, we concocted a plan to make atonement.  We thought, "maybe we won't get in trouble for that." 

Maybe Mom scolded him.  Maybe once his blood pressure subsided he could think a little straighter.  One way or another, I will never forget what happened next.  We sheepishly snuck down the hall to the living room.  To our amazement, Dad was in his recliner - his head in his hands, sobbing.  I think he felt horrible about the tirade over a minor offense.  Maybe the day got to him.  Maybe a sum of days finally got to him.  Whatever the cause of his emotion, he was sorrowful.  We meekly approached him and as soon as we opened our mouths we startled him.  It was a look of despair, penitence, and deep anguish all in one expression.  Before we had time to get out our apologies he quickly knelt, embraced us in what seemed to us to be tree trunks of arms and sobbed.  He apologized to us more than we ever thought of apologizing to him.  That was the first time I remember seeing Dad cry.  

I often think on that incident these days.  It makes Dad human, vulnerable.  But at the same time he endured years of despair.  Years.  That's bravery in the face of uncertainty.  That's the hope I have for myself: endurance.  Striving to provide for a family that often didn't understand him.  That's such a lonely place to be, and  yet he pushed on.  I don't know if my parents ever talked about divorce over all those weary years but we never heard a word about taking the easy way out.  Neither did we ever suspect the inner turmoil from which he protected us.  He didn't give up.  I'm not either.

Through it all, he didn't give up, although I'm sure you would get a different story if you ask him.  He may see his search for contentment as a bane.  I see it now as the best choice he could have made - a change of pace I find so hard to institute myself.  Of course, there is a lot to be said about the strength and submission of my sweet Mother.  But that's a story for another time.

Interested in finding out more about anxiety disorders and depression?  This site is a great place to start.

Do I Love You?

Peaches,

You make me feel complete. More by an embrace with you than anything else. You were my first love and my first heart break. And yet you are the one that continues to complete me. I felt that first heart-pounding love with you as well as the enduring, life-long love. Since the puppy love stage has passed, it may not seem as intense as it was at first but it’s no less real and more resilient. In my despair the only comfort I can feel is in your arms. It is always soothing. Sometimes anger persists but with your patience it passes.

Do I love you? Yes. Am I “in love” with you. Resoundingly, yes.  I believe that for us, to love and to be "in love" is the same thing. It is often an affection (storge love) that arises by fondness and familiarity. It is sometimes familial love (phileo) as between family members. More often than not it is an agape love (caring regardless of circumstance). And we most certainly have an eros love, linked by intimacy.

If Love's a Sweet Passion, why does it torment?
If a Bitter, oh tell me whence comes my content?
Since I suffer with pleasure, why should I complain,
Or grieve at my Fate, when I know 'tis in vain?
Yet so pleasing the Pain is, so soft is the Dart,
That at once it both wounds me, and Tickles my Heart.
- Henry Purcell

We bring each other pain, yet we find pleasure in the warmth of each others' embrace. We are taken to the heights of bliss together and the abyss of sorrow together. We live the mundane together and cherish the sublime together. Am I in love with you? I must be, for I love you.

Do we really love each other so much we look for the betterment of the other, or do we love each other only to the extent we can please one another?  Do we simply want to gain pleasure out of our relationship; the “what’s in it for me” attitude?  I’m certainly not selfless, yet you provide a soft place to fall at the end of the day. 

I am committed to you and our love. I have made the choice to be with you for the rest of my life. Through richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, for better or worse. I do not believe that divorce is a compulsory option. I do not believe God intends for us to love someone only for a while, only to have us drift apart in a painful separation. If that happens it is because of the choice of the lovers, not due to fate. The illusion that there is someone else better suited for us than each other holds empty promises that can only leave us more tormented. Being released by paper from a marriage is a figment of our imaginations. How often do you see divorcees continue a relationship through casual means, bound together by their children, and continually dredging up pain? How often do you hear a divorcee admit the grass was not greener on the other side and they wish they had made the effort to remain in the first marriage. Moreover, divorce begets divorce. It is a fact in this country that many divorces are perpetrated by repeat offenders because the marital relationship is now disposable to these people.

How can we "know” when to cut the bonds and “know” when we don't love someone anymore?  The peaks and valleys of love can last for years.  Does a protracted valley justify separation, only to seek another partner to repeat the cycle? What kind of life is that? From butterflies in your stomach to separation and back again over and over? Why not just give up on that kind of “love?” It seems to me it’s not real love that person seeks, but someone to make them happy. This type of search will always leave you empty. Why? Because there is a direct correlation between how much effort you put into a relationship and how much pleasure you get from it. Once you decide you aren’t going to put any more into it, you won’t get much more out of it.

Through an almost involuntary process, I find I do not feed our relationship from time to time.  In those times I feel neglected because love is reciprocal.  Love is work. It is not always easy. It is not always pleasant. A marriage is not just erotic pleasure, nor is it just affection. A marriage is wanting the best for your partner. I must appreciate the fact that you love me and work daily to love you more.  Without you, I live in a fog and don’t know which way to go. Without you, the morning holds no joy. Without you, life has no support.

I truly love you and always will. 

Love,

me

Components of Religion

Emotion

These are the people that want to “feel” a connection with God.  Without the other components, these people search for emotional highs and the warm fuzzies when worshipping God.  They can become more concerned with what they get out of a worship service than what they give to God.  These people seek a religious experience and when they cannot replicate it consistently they may lose interest and fall away.  They need other people to validate their emotion and seek for others who also look for the same type of experience.  The emotional person often cannot be challenged for his views because their feelings “cannot be judged.”  This person is often over-accepting.  

Legal

These are the people that are concerned with doctrine and how God is worshiped.  Without the other components this person focuses only on the “letter of the law” to the exclusion of commands of service and love.  This person can become fixated upon how worship is carried out and is intolerant, and potentially vitriolic, of opposing doctrine.  Doctrine to this person is the whole of the religion.  This person often faithfully attends worship service and feels that having done so he has fulfilled his religious obligation.  This person is uncomfortable discussing emotional aspects of religion since it does not fit into his self-imposed regimen.  This person is often highly judgmental and may disassociate with others that do not meet their expectations.  

Service

These are the people that want to do good things.  Without the other components, this person wants to appear to be compassionate and often trumpets the virtues of loving his fellow man.  He can become obsessed with well-doing as a means of earning salvation.  This person is tempted to accept anyone who appears to work for the betterment of mankind, regardless of motive or belief.  Mission work and charity can be substituted for corporate worship and this person’s social connections to the church are through “programs.”  

Other components of religion could probably be identified but these are basic and others can probably be tied to these main categories.  Extremism results without a balance of each component.   Man looks for a simple answer or solution to his questions.  Therefore, he may identify with one component more than the others depending upon his individual personality to the exclusion of the others for the sake of simplicity.  It is easiest to accept one view than to work on areas when your are deficient.  

Regardless of the religious group, if someone is not working toward the center where each quality overlaps, he will not be pleasing to God.  Am I?

Yearning for the Simple Life

Do you ever get so caught up in what you "have to do" that you lose sight of what's really going on?  I get like that quite a bit.  It's as though I have tunnel vision for whatever I'm doing at the moment - like it's the most important thing going.  If I'm at church then that's very important.  "Man, I better be a good Christian!"  When I was in the Navy, advancement and career objectives were very important.  "I have to get that designation!"  If we are visiting family then that's suddenly vitally important.  "I have to keep in touch with everyone!"  But worst of all, when I'm at work I have to excel at that.  "I have to do a good job!" 

It's as if I'm obsessive.  OK, maybe I am... a little.  And when I'm at work I feel as though I have to keep everyone happy, even if that means spending less time with my family.  It's a curious thing, though, because eventually something inside me says, "Enough!"  The more energy I put into work, the more and more I need rest from my labors and at some point my mind shuts down and my body forces me to take a break.  It's as if the little man inside of me finally disagrees with what I think is most important at the time and he get's to focus on what he thinks is important for a while.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, I don't know which), he likes not earning a living way more than I do.   And he's winning a lot more here lately.

Lately I have been noticing more and more articles, emails, and news reels about people living a simpler life.  I guess the little men inside them are winning too.  I read an article just yesterday about a couple that live in a 400 square foot apartment and the wife has whittled her possessions down to 100 items.  So that's probably overkill in my opinion but the results are to be envied.  She is now a freelance writer, he is getting his PhD, they are now debt free and live happily on $24k a year.  A YEAR!  After emailing this article to a few people the same story pops up on the morning news.  Hmmm... This thing is catching on. 

Last month there was a very interesting article about a man who built a house in the back of a flat bed trailer.  His electric bill is something like $100 a year and his bed is a bunk over his kitchen.  And did you know that raising chickens and honey bees in your back yard is gaining popularity?  There's even magazines and journals dedicated to simple/small living.  Where have I been?  Oh, yeah.  I had my nose buried in the daily grind. 

Don't get me wrong.  The work isn't evil by definition - it's me that's the problem.  If I'm obsessed with success and improving my status then the job is no longer the way I support my family and how I find accomplishment, it's the green-eyed monster that fuels materialism.  That's not what I want for my children. 

So now when I go home (which may be at 2:30 in the afternoon) I find myself relishing the idea of watering the garden, working around the house, and cleaning out the garage.  Where did that come from?  I mean, I've turned into every adult I never understood!  After all, I've got high expectations for myself!  I'm going places!  Oh, yeah and I'll have my priorities straight too.  I think a lot of people have that unreasonable expectation as well.  After all, that's what we are taught in every Toyota or JC Penny commercial.  You can be busy, successful, have it all, and still have time for a neat house, good family life and dinner at the table.  Maybe I'm just not equipped to do all of that at the same time but more and more I think most of mankind is just not built to be this busy.  How am I supposed to relax when I've been working long hours, pleasing others, meeting career goals, and then trying to make family magic happen at home?  I'm wound up so tight by the end of the day I can't sleep!  Chances are, most people are too.  That's why the longing for the simple life is becoming more pervasive in our society. 

THE SEARCH IS ON
So now I go into work when I finally get up in the morning.  If I'm on a roll, I'll work until 7:00 or 8:00 pm but I'm just as likely (OK, more likely) to leave at 3:00.  I used to end my day by logging off the office servers and going to bed.  More and more, I end it by putting away whatever project I've been working on around the house.  I find myself surfing the internet for the best dates to plant my Fall garden instead of keeping up to date at work.  I recently came to the realization that it's OK if I don't make the kind of income I thought I would because it's not going to make me happy anyway.  I'm looking for ways to get rid of clutter around the house and limit the stuff I bring into it.  I want to sell the "cool" stuff I bought because I thought it's what I really wanted. 

Now I want a back yard hammock.  I want an herb garden and pecan trees.  I want a crisp and clean existence.  I want fresh tomatoes and watermelon.   I want to read fiction for it's own sake.  I want to meditate.  I want to mountain bike.  I want to sit by the water and soak up the sun.  I want to watch my son play in the yard.  I want to enjoy friends.  I want to grill steaks and sip iced tea. 

Now I understand what "decompression" is. 

I'm looking for simplicity.   I'm seeking contentment with what I have.  I want to be a better quality me instead of have better quality stuff.  I want to be seen as a happy person that's pleasant to be around instead of someone who has accomplished much.  That's probably the most poignant realization of all for me.  In my quest for happiness, I made myself unhappy.  In my search for status, I've become less valuable.  And all of it has made me a sour grump.  Who wants to be around that person?  So I've learned I need to be liked for who I am instead of what I have.  I didn't know that's what I was doing to begin with. 

It's like I'm performing surgery to separate Siamese twins.  I'm carving the anxiety-ridden status seeker from the satisfied inner self.  I just hope they aren't inseparably joined.