childhood dreams :: interview with tanner

[note: for those of you who don't know my brother, tanner, he is a 24-year-old imagineer for walt disney. his dream, since i can remember, has been to design rides for theme parks (which i've learned is different from rides built for amusement parks). his dedication has both inspired and irritated me. his ability to be technical and creative simultaneously confused me. but as i watch him create moments for others to experience joy - even if it's just for a few minutes strapped to the seat of a roller coaster - i am reminded that this is what it looks like to see someone else living the life they were meant to live. and for this, i am annoyed by his brilliance. so without further ado ... i introduce tanner ... undoubtedly one of the most intelligent and focused individuals i know]

interview:
K: What is your first memory of loving the process of creating rides? Do you remember how your passion evolved?
T: In 4th or 5th grade, my best friend Keith Mehner and I drew a layout of an imaginary roller coaster. He liked NASA and I liked roller coasters, so the roller coaster was themed like a space mission with a shuttle as the ride vehicle. The coaster had a launch at the beginning, a slingshot around a planet, and even a portion where it jumped the track to hop over an asteroid. Who knows what else was on that drawing, but it was the first time I remember role-playing as if it was a real job to design rides. I loved that it had a theme (that the roller coaster elements went through motions to represent events in the story), and I love that I did the drawing with a friend (I have always found more energy and creativity in coming up with ideas as a team). The passion for roller coaster design evolved into a passion for rides, and then for theme park attractions in general. I learned about how stories were the foundation of theme park attractions, and how a ride or show can deliver a message or tap into emotions.

K: How does dreaming about your 'dream job' look now that you have the one you've imagined for so long?
T: Reaching my dream job (or at least my dream workplace) quickly forced me to step back and re-evaluate my core dream. What about this job did I dream so much about? Am I really doing what I dreamed about now that I'm here? I find that no matter where I am, I continue dreaming about a more specific vision. It took a big vision to get me here, and now I dream in more specific and focused visions.

K: What has been most rewarding or even exciting for you ... the pursuit or the actual life within the dream?
T: The season you are NOT in always seems to be more rewarding. When I was pursuing, it felt like the job would be more rewarding than the chasing. Now, I look back and daydream about memories of the pursuit. But there is no doubt that the actual life is just as rewarding. It is very exciting to be able to ride around in a vehicle and suddenly flash back to a time when I saw pictures of Imagineers testing vehicles and dreamed about this day; or to walk through the empty Magic Kingdom at night and flashback to a time when I dreamed about roaming through the parks on vacation. Reaching a milestone in the career dream gives you the chance to enjoy the memories AND enjoy creating new visions.

a side note from tanner ... must read! :)

An attempt at a summary...
I'll try an analogy that may be helpful... I think chasing a career dream is a bit like seeing a beautiful, exotic car pass by and running after it. You chase it because it looks cool, and if it's fairly exclusive, you probably won't have another chance for it to come around again. You run hard enough to catch up with it and you jump in. It's an immediate change. It's a bit more relaxing because all of a sudden you don't have to run anymore. Things slow down for a minute. You enjoy it. Then, after a minute, you realize that in all your time chasing a good-looking car you didn't spend much time thinking where it was heading or where it would take you if you got in. So, now you are in the car. You start thinking about the interior of the car that you've never seen and wondering if it's nice enough inside to stay for a long ride. You look around and wonder if you'll get along with the other people in the car with you. You have to figure out where you hope the car will go now and how you can get the others in the car on-board with that vision. You're not in this on your own anymore. It involves more relationships now and more politics. And from the inside, it takes energy to remember what was so good-looking about the car when you were chasing it. But that doesn't take away from the reward of being inside and on your way to exciting new places.


thanks to tanner for his example of living within your dreams and how to keep moving forward.

i'm back ... sort of ...

i haven't been writing consistently for one major reason: i've had far too many things preoccupying my time (and mind) to spend any extra effort over analyzing my life and plunging myself into the dark pits of angst over this thing or that.

i know you're disappointed since this blog has probably been such a source of daily inspiration to you. (note extreme sarcasm)

and instead of boring you with daily workplace drama or business tid-bits that i've come to realize aren't as universally tantalizing as i would hope (mainly in order to justify my own enthusiasm for such topics), i'm going to begin another 'series.'

(can you tell i've had entirely too much caffeine today already?? note my poor grammar, most notably the run-on sentences)

i digress.

this new series, inspired by a lovely little tune playing in my local starbucks this morning, will be about dreams. childhood dreams specifically ... and how they never really die.

i'll be introducing you to my grandpa krenzer, my mother, my brother tanner, and a host of other people who remind me that maybe there really is something to our childlike ambitions. maybe ... just maybe ... they're worth revisiting for a chance to reconnect with who we were meant to be ...

meetings

a few thoughts on meetings/business from "death by meetings," by patrick lencioni:

why we go into business:
to engage in discussions where you can use your analytical skills, your experience, and your intuition to solve a big problem.

common issue:
we get so off track with what's going to happen next quarter or next year that we don't really come to any conclusions about what we should be doing next week. or even tomorrow, for that matter!

thank you mr. lencioni. these two comments alone reminded of me of why i'm passionate about my job and why it infuriates me to be here. good reminder that it's my responsibility to create spaces conducive to real growth and movement in an organizational setting.

morning text

i have a sore throat. which progressively worsened from 3 p.m. yesterday to the time i woke up this morning.

i realized that kissing vince until i'm better wouldn't be an option because neither of us can afford to miss work right now. which then sent me down the path of hysterics.

my mind automatically jumped to outbreak. remember that movie? and i started playing out my morbid death while (not-so-ironically) my throat began to hurt even worse.

in a cold sweat, i texted vince:

me: if i were quarantined, like in outbreak, would you get in the plastic bubble with me or stay outside?

vince: i'd get in! i love bubbles. haha

that's why i'm marrying this man.

invincible

i just found out today (on facebook no less) that a guy i used to play in a band with was found dead in his home this morning.

usually hearing about deaths brings up the conversation that life is short. that we should seize the day. that you never know when your last breath will be.

which is all true, but not super fitting of my feelings right now.

right now i feel an overwhelming amount of guilt. confusion. and, not gonna lie, a little bit of fear.

guilt because i shouldn't have lost contact with him when i knew things had a tendency to get dicy in his life. sometimes it's just easier to pull the distance card and settle for a few facebook chats here and there in exchange for a real conversation beyond superficiality.

confusion as to how it got to this point when things seemed to going better for him ... no thanks to those of us who abandoned him when things got a little sketchy and complicated.

and fear because ... well ... this reminds me of how much i try to hide from in order to keep things less messy in my life. it reminds me that i avoid the difficult conversations with people i care about in order to maintain my existing approval rate. it reminds me that sometimes you have to choose to love people no matter how it seems.

because right now ... i'd rather he had known people were willing to fight for him than to have ended this alone.

for those of you who DID choose to stand by him and love him ... thank you for keeping him around long enough for me to have experienced some of his best moments.

who you are

a lot has been happening lately ...

but what i've noticed is that i'm more energized.

that's the beauty of having the opportunity to exercise your talents and show people what you're capable of.

you just feel more alive. awake, seemingly for the first time in months ... perhaps years.

i wonder how much different the world would be if we were all given a chance to be who we were created to be?

dear los angeles ...

at first glance you weren't as welcoming as i'd hoped. i guess i imagined you to be more like your more sophisticated brother, new york.

but you just aren't. you're dirty. noisy. busy. fully of cars. and traffic. and ... millions of pretentious film students.

when i first met you, i swore i would never revisit you messy awesomeness and most certainly would check you off the list of places to live.

i was wrong. and i'm sorry.

when i came crawling back to you a little more than three years ago (remember that? my utter desperation? my sense of hope? my willingness to give you another chance because ... let's be honest ... you were my only option for a change of scenery?), i found a place that made my heart flutter.

i think you know what i'm talking about. there is this night club in the center of your city that has been the catalyst for transformation to people all over the world ... including myself.

out of it pours the music of people who have a story to tell. the melody sweeps through the empty streets of downtown and into the souls of the broken.

songs that have been carried to forgotten lands starving for hope ... for something to believe in.

these songs have become letters. letters to be addressed to the people of your city, but ones that we've come to find resonate with all of humanity.

this nightclub is where a group of people gather to listen to what you are trying to say and meets with the sole purpose of having a meaningful conversation back.

this nightclub is the hub of a movement. a place where nearly every corner of the world is represented. and those representatives, myself included, spend only a few months breathing in your smog, fighting the traffic and calling your people our family before we're calling ourselves angelinos.

so, los angeles. i'm here to tell you that i get it now. i get that you were trying to tell me something all along ... that there is much more to you than what meets the eye. and i want you to know that i'm here to stay.

dear los angeles ...

at first glance you weren't as welcoming as i'd hoped. i guess i imagined you to be more like your more sophisticated brother, new york.

but you just aren't. you're dirty. noisy. busy. full of cars. and traffic. and ... millions of pretentious film students.

when i first met you, i swore i would never revisit your messy awesomeness and most certainly would check you off the list of places to live.

i was wrong. and i'm sorry.

[but just for the record, can we both admit you don't have a the best track record for first impressions? great. thanks]

when i came crawling back to you a little more than three years ago (remember how desperate i was? how hopeful? how willing i was to give you another chance because you were my only lead at a new life?), i found a place that made my heart beat faster than i ever knew possible.

a cup of sugar

i borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbor friday. actually, it was a half cup of sugar, but that's really beside the point.

i'm not sure what was more startling ... the fact that i was baking on my day off, or the fact that i stepped into one of the biggest cliches in the book.

i always wondered what it would be like to be able to borrow a literal cup of sugar from a neighbor. in my entire 23 years of living in kansas, i never did it. perhaps a lawnmower or vacuum, but never a cup of sugar. and those exchanges never really got me past the front (or garage) door. but at least i knew i could ask without feeling awkward or intrusive.

this situation however, called for desperate measures. (ha ... measures ... get it?! ... ok)

as i was pouring all the ingredients into my mixing bowl, i began feeling a little overwhelmed that my ipod dock seemed to be in a full on battle with the noise coming from the busy los angeles street below my loft. and within minutes, i felt like my day off was being invaded by noise and clutter that i hadn't invited. my simple and unassuming task of baking a batch of cupcakes for a fourth of july party now became a full blown mental marathon. i started whisking in anger and sadness that not one ounce of quietness or a friendly exchange had been a part of my day.

until ... i realized i was a half cup of sugar short of making this a worth-while endeavor.

i panicked.

and then i remembered seeing a neighbor pulling into the parking garage the same time i did a few hours earlier and thought, "maybe she has sugar."

so i texted her and asked if i could borrow a cup of sugar.

she said, "come on down!"

with a nerdish grin as if i had just been chosen to be on the price is right, i grabbed my measuring cup and heading down the elevator. she was on the phone when i got there so we exchanged smiles and mouthed a few words to each other as she listened to the person on the other end of her blue tooth. when she handed back the measuring cup, she mouthed, "are you sure that's all you need?" and i mouthed, "yep. that's great! thank you (with overly animated facial expressions)." we hugged and i headed back to the elevator.

when i got on the elevator, three other people were inside already and i found myself spewing the words (with surprising glee), "i borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbor!!"

the couple in the elevator just looked at each other like they shared a mutual feeling of my insanity and the other girl just smiled. when the couple left, the girl next to me said, "you actually know someone in this building that you can borrow sugar from? it sounds like such a cliche."

and while i said, "yes," with a proud smile on my face, a part of me actually felt bad that i practically live on top of hundreds of other people who are craving someone to know in case they need something ... whether it's a cup of sugar or just a friendly chat over a cup of coffee ... that i turned around and said, "my name is krysta. i live in apartment 413 if you ever need to borrow anything."

[note: sometimes (a lot of times) the things in my head are so real that i actually thing they happened. such is the case with what i said after saying "yes." i'm really hoping i told her my name and apartment number, but because i'm not super quick on my feet and the elevator door was closing on us ... i'm willing to bet that i didn't. which brings me to the life lesson here ...]

i don't know if i'll ever see her again, but there are three things i learned from that very brief exchange.

1. we all need community. all of us.
2. i need to be far more intentional about creating space to connect with the people around me.
3. i need to stock up on sugar ... you know ... just in case.