Progress Cafe

There's a place on east 5th street in Austin called Progress Cafe where I used to go for an Eastside Latte and some light journaling.  This weekend the girls and I found ourselves in the center of Torino just a bit north of the 2nd largest piazza in Europe (Piazza Vittorio Veneto), where we found a wonderful 3-level establishment: top level is a restaurant, ground floor is a hip cafe, and the basement is a dance floor/cocktail bar.  The name?  Caffe del Progresso.  My trip to Caffe del Progresso didn't result in quiet moments of introspection with pen in hand, rather a solid hour on the dance floor rocking out to Italian '80s with a mojito in hand.  Nevertheless, this somehow got me to thinking about my own personal progress.

gotta write it out.

Today at lunchtime I took a break in the library and grabbed my journal from my bag.  I took time to survey the recent contents and noticed I've written more in the last 3 months than I have in the entire year.  I flipped back in the annals of my thoughts, preparing myself for the inevitable cringe that often accompanies the reviewing of old journal material (at least for me).  This time I surprised myself.  I came across an entry from exactly one year ago, to date.  November 22, 2009 at 12:28pm (yes, I add the time to the entries).  How weird is that?  Back then I was journaling once a month at best, and here I was, Future Me, staring at the ghost of one year past.

Rewind to November 22 of last year, imagine if you can a time when the Twilight series just reached that obnoxious peak in popularity, a time when we all worried we had swine flu - right about then.  I was sitting in Austin Java attempting to write out my frustration with my current situation and hopes for the future.  One year ago I was working at a diner serving fried chicken and milkshakes to patrons and wondering why something "just wasn't right" with me.  I was thinking about taking the GRE because I thought "I need to get it together" and do something with my life.  What was the right decision, and why couldn't someone tell me what to do?

The answer was there on paper the whole time.  "Part of me thinks that writing this down will give me the answer, when in truth this is just a semi-permanent version of my innermost struggles.  I need strength and resolve, a sense of confidence regarding my life.  I should do what's right for me - be alone."  

let the coffee and the ink flow.

The distance I was talking about in the last post is even more true now that I look at my journal.  Distance isn't just meters, kilometers, oceans - it's time.  Years.  It's also being alone, allowing yourself to breathe and think about what you want and need for yourself.   Here are the items I outlined for Future Me a year ago: "Things need to be clear, focused and with purpose.  No more distractions.  Only success.  I need to be happy with me and where I'm going.  I suppose that can be my first step." I find it interesting that though it took me some time to heed my own words, I ended up truly listening to myself and creating opportunities to be able to truly accomplish some goals.

A year ago I was writing about probably going to UT for grad school and that was fine.  But here I sit in a castle in North Italy writing a blog post about my life studying the arts in Europe.  I was searching for balance just one year ago on a professional and personal level, now I believe I've truly attained that sense of equilibrium.  One year and 70ish pages later in my journal, I'm there.  And that's true progress.