Sunday, July 26, 2015

Perils of Imagination

Often I am guilty of paralysis by analysis. Especially when I don't understand why something happened. I ruminate, obsess, analyze and breakdown every single moment, sentence, action or inaction. The brain begins to spiral and then I'm stuck. Frozen blue screen of emotion, rational and motivation.

It sucks. And so I have found that I need to distract or derail my runaway train of thought. Activity helps. Music helps. Media helps. People help. 

At times when a train of thought is too powerful, too out of control to try and stop the only chance I have is to pull out my six shooter fire ahead and hope I can divert the train on to another track. Many times I fail. Now and then it succeeds. Today that is how I met Amelia. 

Amelia Danforth is a 28 year old from Minneapolis. Two years ago, she left her first job in Architecture and Design to launch her own think tank with three other individuals focusing on sustainable designed low income housing that addresses the generally poor quality of materials used in low income housing and the lack of renewable energy used to power the facilities. 

Six months into the project Amelia and her partners received a substantial grant from EPA to develop a plan for solar powered gardens retro fitted on the roofs of several low income housing communities. The deadline for the project is in two weeks and while they have a presentation ready, Amelia worries that the shortcuts one of her partners, David, has added into the project are overly optimistic and doom it to failure. The birth of this project, after nearly two years of labor, is near but potentially precarious.

The stress tends to weigh on Amelia's slender shoulders. Her height, while never imposing at 5'4", seems slightly less due to the weary posture. She still carries herself with the natural grace of a the dancer she was in her youth. The days of dancing were before she took the weigh of the project and in a way, the word, on her shoulders. Amelia saw the big picture from a young age and always had her eyes on the larger goal of community. She was destined and determined to do more, to be more. To make a difference. 

When I saw her at the bank as I do often lately, I could see the stress evident on her face. She keeps her face short and manageable, not so much for fashion but for easier mornings. And since she often sleeps in her office it's easier to deal with in the office sink when it's short. Her simple white blouse could easily be confused for a t shirt at a glance but the detail and grace of the sheer shoulder panels gives it a more feminine feel. The necklace that she always wears was apparent. A long chain with a large locket or broach. There is something classic and familial about the necklace, it as the heir of a family heirloom and when she speaks of stressful things her hand naturally and absentmindedly holds the broach or amulet in her elven hands. The black thick glasses could be assumed hipster or trendy. In fact they are like many things in Amelia's life, with our purpose. Thinner frames tend to break when dropped or rolled on while sleeping on her office couch. 

There was a startlingly aura of strength, anger and pain the reverberated from her as she sat waiting for the bank manager. I come to the bank everyday to make a deposit and before this week had only seen her occasionally. But this was the 4th day in a row she was waiting for the manager. Last Monday, she noticed an irregularity in the think tank's financial and began to investigate. At first she assumed it was a banking or accounting error. As she learned more from the bank and her other investigations, she knew it was much more than a simple error. 

Maybe it was the week of stress. Maybe it was the impending deadline. Maybe it was the fact they screwed up her coffee for the third day in a row at the suburban drive through shop she hit just before the bank. What ever it was, she poured it all out to me, a slightly familiar faced total stranger, when I made the mistake of simply asking in the classic Minnesotan way, "How's it going?" 



All that from a picture I see in the bank almost every day. An amazing powerful imaginary woman. Pure Adam imagination run wild. 

I'm glad to have met Amelia and I can't wait to hear/write more of her story. 

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