bigger picture

A point becomes a line

2011-05-17T12:25:00.000-07:00

We all have thoughts, ideas, feelings, opinions,
Impressions, actions and deeds --
Millions of them every day.

And I think we all have the desire--
Maybe even the need --
To share
At least 99% of them.

We want witnesses,
And sometimes we want witnesses with feedback.
We want to send our stuff out into the universe
And we want to think that someone is paying attention.

We need to beunderstood, encouraged, admired,
Corrected and mollified.
We need to be heard.

I See With My Eyes

2011-04-19T20:42:00.001-07:00

My PERSPECTIVE is my own.

It is not ordinary; it is not common.
It is, after all, born of a history that is neither ordinary nor common.

There are times that I think that my PERSPECTIVE has some value to others.
There are other times that I think my perspective is like an opinion -- everybody has one and all are equally valid and (in)valuable.

In my younger years I theorized that PERSPECTIVE was the element that made us as unique as snowflakes.
It was the key to connection, expansion and co-existence.
Consider:
Perspective can be shared and has the power to broaden another's horizons.
Perspective unexpressed, however, can frighten, anger and divide.
It is a gift to and from all of us.

It is for this reason -- and thanks to JB -- that I blog once again.

Peace.

Life More Abundant

2009-10-07T13:17:00.000-07:00

It rained a lot this morning
But the skies had cleared by the time I came outside.
The radio weatherman reported that the showers were gone for the day;
That the sun was out and – Watch out! Be careful! –
The winds would be picking up as the day went on.

I made my way to my bench in my park
And sat down to do my neck exercises
(With Fred Hammond playing in my earphones).
Now picture. My bench is at the edge of a concrete clearing
Among many tall and beautiful trees in my park.
When I look straight up (think neck exercise), I see
A big circle of blue sky surrounded by the tip-tops of trees.
When I look more forward at the tops of the trees
Across the clearing and in front of me, I see
More of the trees
Against a moving backdrop of white clouds
Quickly drifting across the quietly blue sky.
Then, suddenly, the wind picks up!
And the trees begin to sway and rustle and flicker and dance.

People, I can do nothing short of BASK!
Oh, the PRESENCE!!
In that clearing, looking up at beautiful sky
As trees bend over me in what seem like
Protective postures, I know that
“This is the day that the Lord hath made”
For ME!

How. Fun. Was. That!!!!!

Serena

2009-09-13T14:10:00.000-07:00

As a fairly avid tennis fan, I was offered condolences on yesterday as I settled in for a full day of tennis and encountered yet another rain delay. I smiled at the sentiment, but had no problem finding something else to do. Today, however, condolences are more in order. I am ailing – as the Serena Williams / Kim Clijsters U.S. Open semi-final match debacle settles into my consciousness.

It is not what happened that is making be ail. What happened was no more than an incident that took place between two, three, four, five or six people -- depending on how one looks at things. The 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6 people involved acted out their individual minds, beliefs, hearts and spirits – the good and the bad, the right and the wrong. They did it before tens of thousands of people and in front of cameras that immediately conveyed their images to millions more people. But it was only the 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6 people who were actually involved who created the incident, and I know better than to expect people to behave any differently from whom and what they are.

No, the thing that hurts me is that in tennis’ many public discussions, commentary and analysis that are sure to ensue, no one will defend Serena although her position and behavior was AT LEAST as defensible as any and all of the positions and behaviors of the other 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5 other persons involved.

No one in the booth or locker room will say, “I cannot imagine being called for a foot fault – mistakenly or otherwise -- in a semi-final match at deuce! That is unheard of in our sport! Had it happened to me, I would have been very, very upset as well. So yes, I can understand what happened with Serena whether I can condone her reaction or not.”

None of the commentators will consider the difference between Serena’s penalty and the penalties (or lack thereof) handed down to the many professional tennis players who have verbally abused referees (much less linespeople) as a matter of course. Neither John McEnroe nor anyone else will be heard on air saying, “I regularly behaved far worse, provoked by far less! Had I been called for a foot fault at a point in a semi-final as she was, I cannot imagine what I might have done or said! With all of my misbehavior, I was never penalized to the extent of losing a match! I would have been apoplectic! So yes, I can understand Serena’s reaction whether I can condone it at this point in my career or not.”

Comments and discussions such as the above may certainly be taking place in private and/or off the air. But the sport – the corporate sport of American tennis, its spokespersons, and much of its rank and file – will not express any such opinions publicly. The few within the ranks who might wish to do so will consider the (legal, financial, and peer) pressures involved – and try to be content with more private and personal conversations.

The party line will be:
“Of the two to six people involved, all behaved within the limits of lawful, acceptable and understandable behavior. Only Serena must be held accountable for any missteps here. Only Serena can be held responsible for this unfortunate incident.”

No producer, journalist or columnist will wonder aloud how often these “unfortunate incidents” – obscure rules, incorrect line calls, botched scores and bumps – revolve around Serena and/or Venus Williams. None of them will share any musings about how these sisters, who have brought untold numbers of fans and literally, billions of dollars to the sport would be feted if they were white Americans instead of Black ones.

No one in tennis will publicly give Serena her due as she steadily and methodically defeats all comers. She is a phenomenon, a great tennis player and, on many measures, the best female tennis player of all time. But the sport will never celebrate her that way. Her sport will never support, defend or celebrate her as it should. Her sport will never cease to criticize her even as they grudgingly give her some minimal credit for her skill, heart and victories.

As she did last evening, Serena will graciously congratulate her opponent, square her shoulders, lift her head, smile and wave to her fans, and stride off the court – alone. And those of us who know – those of us who identify – those of us not deluded or in denial or under illusions about what it is to be African-American in America – don’t feel so well this morning.

The uniqueness of snowflakes and us

2009-05-11T11:20:00.001-07:00

It is said that each of us has a twin in the world somewhere. I daresay that is true. If we are willing to dissect ourselves, we have hundreds of "twins" -- folks with identical hands, noses, or shapes.

But I have a theory. "Wanna hear it? It goes a little something like this..."

As grains of sand -- and snowflakes -- differ from each other, I submit that the one uniqueness that every person possesses...that is beyond duplication or "twin-ness"...is PERSPECTIVE. No one -- NO ONE -- sees, hears, tastes, considers, feels, takes in, smells -- perceives -- the universe exactly as each of us does.

Now each of us may enjoy our perspective; we may share it, lend it, or broaden it. What we likely cannot do with it is compete. My perspective would be ill-used to best any competitor. We all have perspectives as we all have lungs, life and hair -- none better than any other -- no rights or wrongs, superiors or inferiors.

Now that capitalism and competition are out of the way....

For me, perspective is the very heart of education. Whenever I am blessed to truly see the world, or some part of it, through someone else's eyes -- then my own perspective is broadened. As an educator, I consider it my life's purpose to share my own perspective -- to broaden the perspectives of others. As a reader...ah, as a reader!...and as a lifelong student, I have looked at life through the eyes of literally thousands of people, past and present. The tangential knowledge alone has been more than worth twice the effort! The areas of commonality -- and difference --in perspectives have literally defined the human experience for me. The process has been the exhiliration of my life.

I think that there is a difference between education and job training. We've all had to attend school, memorize facts, regurgitate process, and earn credentials on the road to self-sufficiency. Job training. Thankfully, many of us have remained at the center of our concentric and broadening circles of understanding our "self," the universe and the multi-faceted relationship between the two. Education.

In service to the system -- and often to our own survival within the system -- job training is important and useful. But is there more to life than life within a capitalist system? Here's wishing you and yours ... education.

More Books

2009-04-14T03:20:00.000-07:00

I have to add a postscript to my earlier comments re: Walter Mosley's The Fortunate Son. The further I got into the book, the better it got. Once I realized that the book was a parable -- then Ohhh! I get it now. Definitely worth reading.

I wasn't able to make the March meetings of the two book clubs so I missed the Walter Mosley discussion -- which I heard was lively and fun. AND I missed The Reader discussion -- which probably wasn't much. (As a matter of fact, I've opted out of that particular group because it's a social group that fails to discuss the book itself.) The April meeting of the first club was on Shadows on the Hudson by Singer. I understand that Mr. Singer is best known for his short stories and that this fat book (500+ pages) was his foray into novels. It was the story of a middle-class social community of Jews in New York just after WWII -- living, loving, cheating, and remembering against the backdrop of an ancient religion and a recent trauma. I kind of liked it.

For May, we are reading The Poet of Tolstoy Park by Sonny Cullen. After only 40 pages, I have fallen in love with this book. It was written in 2005; takes place in 1925; is not a very easy read; but it is SO worth it. I'll keep you posted.

Finally, I want to get something off my chest. You'll remember Oprah calling this author to task for the lies he told in his "autobiography" a couple years ago. I seem to recall public apologies, refunds, rescinded contracts and recalled books. I think the book was called A Million Little Pieces by James Frey.

This was Mr. Frey's personal account of his recovery and drug rehab experiences. Did you read it? I thought it was pretty good myself. I wasn't necessarily swallowing everything hook, line and sinker. It was an AUTObiography, for goodness' sake. And for more goodness' sake -- it's the autobiography of a DRUG ADDICT! One of the very first thing ANYONE learns about substance abuse is that DRUG ADDICTS LIE. Ask any family member, friend, counselor, doctor -- anybody. DRUG ADDICTS LIE. It makes sense. The reason drug addicts are drug addicts is because they cannot deal with the version of reality they know and feel. Almost the whole point of substance abuse it to get and stay high enough so that the pain of being who you are no longer exists.

That being said, I thought the book contained enough truth to give readers rare and excellent insights into the lives, experiences and rationales of drug abusers -- and enough lies to make the author not feel like the world's biggest loser. I thought this was what almost all autobiographies (not my favorite genre) did by definition. I mean, if you were to write your own story.....? Accuracy, brutal honesty, raw self-reflection would, of course, be YOUR main messages, I'm sure. After all, (according to your autobiography,) that's just the kind of person you are. :-)

Just had to get that off my chest. If you haven't read the book, see if you can hunt down a copy and let me know what you think.

Take CARE of yourself

2009-03-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

I pass this along without much editorial comment.
The article speaks for itself.

The headline reads, "A hurdle for health reform: patients and their doctors."

Selected quotes read:

"...we will have to accept that 'best' doesn't always mean the newest drug or the latest treatment.'

"...'If everybody...believes that prescriptions and procedures are the things we need to make us healthy and well, then it doesn't matter what kind of policy you draft or what kind of system you build. It's never going to get better.'

"The list goes on. Whether it's invasive back surgery, medical scans or expensive drugs, patients and doctors alike often refuse to believe that costly treatments aren't worth it.

"...patients routinely demand[ed] unnecessary prescriptions.

"'Doctors believe the industry propaganda that new drugs are better than old ones, and that for every ailment there is a drug.'

"'In American culture, prescriptions and procedures have become surrogates for real health care and real dialogue,..."

Have we not spoken about this before?

Don't Worry, Be Happy !!

2009-03-04T12:49:00.000-08:00

OK, this will be relatively quick.
The headline reads, "Like the show? Maybe it was the commercials,"
and the point was that interrupted pleasure seems to be more pleasurable.

It's kind of amazing all the different things that scientists study, isn't it?

Anyway, they are finding that the human being is so adaptable that (s)he gets used to anything -- good or bad -- pretty quickly.
The quote they use is, "The first kiss is magic. The second is intimate. The third is routine."

So of course, the question they pose is, 'If you adapt so quickly to pleasurable activities, and the pleasure decreases, how do you sustain a level of happiness or ever move up on the scale?' And their answer is, "One way people do this, research suggests, is to favor novel experiences over material goodies." In other words, STUFF isn't nearly as satisfying as trying new things or having new experiences.

OBAMA !!!

2009-02-25T08:08:00.000-08:00

Speaking of books -- I'm listening to Barack Obama reading his own book, "Dreams From My Father," on my IPod.
Now this is an experience!
There are six CDs to this book.
I listen to each one 2-3 times -- then I let it shuffle right along with my music.
I'll hear Fred Hammond, Justin Timberlake, Alicia Keys -- then a couple of pages from Barack.
How cool is this!

Did you see your President on TV last night?
He's a ROCK STAR!!!!
He can't get INTO the Chamber for people trying to shake his hand, hug him, touch him.
He can't begin SPEAKING for the prolonged standing OVATIONS he cannot put an end to.
He can't get OUT of the Chamber for people wanting his AUTOGRAPH on their programs!
A Rock Star!!!

And yet and still, he is our President -- our leader in so many, MANY senses of the word.
He is so admired, idolized and appreciated not for the hype -- but because he has actually given himself over -- and is determined to be -- the Real Deal.

I didn't follow the election that closely -- I knew that I would be voting for Barack Obama and that was that.
I didn't go to the Inauguration -- too many people -- and I was going to see/hear his speech on TV or computer anyway.
But now I plan my evening around televised Presidential addresses -- and pore over my weekly newspaper accounts of Presidential actions and activities.
THIS is the part that's exciting for me!

YYYYOOOOUUUU GGGGOOOO BBBBOOOOYYYYY!!!!!!

Books, Books, Books

2009-02-25T07:24:00.001-08:00

I joined two local book clubs this year. They're not exciting but they ARE pretty interesting. I have read books that I wouldn't have glanced at otherwise. I get to take part in an 'intellectual' exchange (much more personal than one would think). I get to observe human beings interacting in a social context without necessarily being involved. Interesting.

"Where Did I Leave My Glasses?" is a witty, comprehensive, accessible discussion about normal memory loss. I've had an extremely poor memory my entire life so I hadn't realized how upsetting memory loss is for my 50+ contemporaries. This actually is a book I would recommend for anyone who has questions or interest in the subject. I found myself referring to the book a lot while I was reading it because the author's examples were so right on that many of my everyday conversations were mirror images of her written accounts.

"Go Tell It On The Mountain" by James Baldwin. Sigh. In the many, many years that have passed since I read Mr. Baldwin, I have developed a much finer appreciation for the artful use of the English language. What a beautifully written book! I did, however, find the discussion somewhat lacking -- mostly because the subject matters of Pentecostal Christianity, spirituality and their effect on flawed human beings are so close to me. But I took advantage of the public library book sale to score another Baldwin book for future enjoyment.

"The Reader." I wasn't bowled over when I read it the first time some years ago. As a matter of fact, I passed on the movie because the book was so underwhelming for me. But I read it again for the sake of the book discussion. There was much I hadn't remembered (normal memory loss), but my overall impression remained the same. I'm as prepared as I'm going to be for this discussion.

"Fortunate Son" by Walter Mosley. I generally find Mr. Mosley's books entertaining -- kind of the same way that guys find chick flicks amusing. For me, his character development leaves something to be desired. However, this one is as enjoyable as any of his others. Stay tuned -- this promises to be a curious discussion in this group.

Just You

2009-02-23T08:56:00.000-08:00

There is only one way.

“The road may be narrow,”
“The obstacles may be great,”
“The disciplines are crucial and critical,” but
“You must come this way.”

All of THIS has almost nothing to do with anyone else
And everything to do with YOU.

True, you can’t actually DO it, or live it, alone,
But it IS All About You –
The questions, the answers, the Way –
All about you -- all between you, you, and your God.

You will surely meet guides –
You will certainly have fellow travelers,
You’ll know teachers, preachers, healers, helpers and friends.
And all will be but part of the GPS systems
That leads you to You.

There really is no other way
Nor much of another point.

Keeping Up with the Old Folks

2009-01-28T11:29:00.000-08:00

"Babies know: a little dirt is good for you" was the headline -- New York Times, 01/27/2009, p.D7. The article was in the Science section and discussed the "accumulating evidence strongly suggest[ing] that eating dirt is good for you....in the development of a healthy immune system."

The article was interesting enough. What was more interesting, though, was my memory of an old saying. When I was young(er) -- and children put dirt in their mouths -- the old folk used to say, "Don't worry about it. We all gotta eat a peck a dirt before we die." 'Course, that always begged the question, "How much is a peck?" We never got an answer to that, but truth be told -- we didn't need an answer to worry a lot less about the babies playing in the mud or getting a little dirty.

I love that science has a way of catching up with the wisdom of my forefathers and mothers.

Unintentional Preparation

2009-01-13T09:01:00.000-08:00

Having the layoff possibility laid out for me – after years of (unconscious, subconscious) wishing and hoping and (unintended) preparing….

Every time I thought to leave, or tried to leave, this institution, several exit meetings would automatically be scheduled. And somehow, some other position, some amended list of duties, some new and “exciting” opportunity, and/or some more money would appear – and I would stay on. The years slid by.
The new College president and the economic downturn knocked the wind out of everyone’s sails – and essentially allowed me a step toward a freedom that I didn’t even know I was seeking.
As I walk around the corridors this afternoon, doing my usual meet & greets, I feel myself smiling inside. I suddenly realize that I won’t miss this place or these people at all. I don’t share the values or the passions of the folks around me -- nice though they may be. I've sidestepped their extracurricular activities and consistently viewed the work through a very different lens. While, on the one hand, that made me valuable to the team, it also spoke of a failure to fit.

OMG, I never really belonged here! That’s why I wasn’t happy here! I thought I didn’t belong here because I didn’t belong anywhere. I thought I wasn’t happy here because I wasn’t happy. So I repeat -- OMG!

And now I’m gonna be free! In these next months, opportunities within the College are likely to come up – and I’ll think about and consider them when they do. But for now, I’m looking at freedom. And I’m writing!!!! I'm writing a lot and every day! I’m writing because I can – because I want to – and because it helps me.

Preparation.
A few months ago, I actually stopped writing because a good friend of mine admitted to me that she didn’t read me. My December 10 blog entry read:
I'm ba-a-a-ck
"...last publshed on August 1..."
What in the world have I been thinking!?!

I've been thinking a lot of things, actually. I just haven't been sharing any of them. No, I haven't been busy. And no, I haven't lost interest. I lost something though. A good friend of mine confessed that she just doesn't read blogs. She didn't want me to take that personally (?) but blogs just weren't her thing. Too deep, too thought-provoking, too who-knows-what. 'Course she LOVES getting letters from me, but that's different. (?) I really TRIED not to take it personally -- but if my friends aren't reading me, then why -- and to whom -- am I writing?

I write because I like to write.
I write because I have something to say.
I write because I can.
I write because I am.

So I'm back. How are you?

A couple of weeks later – when construction repairs in my house forced me to move everything I owned into one (surprisingly comfortable) room, I wrote in my journal about downsizing over the years. I had gotten rid of so many things – books, furniture, clothes, appliances, music – but never notebooks or pens or paper or anything I ever wrote. “A clue! A clue!” read my journal. It was this entry that prompted me to redesign my living space and create a designed office/writing space for myself.

Today, a small article in AMNew York caught my eye (Overcoming your fear of failure, 01/12/2009, p.21). And I quote: “I believe gaining trust in oneself to land safely in any situation is one of the most important lessons we need to teach ourselves if we want to pursue our passions and goals with the vigor needed to snag them.” Now I might take issue with the “teach[ing] ourselves” part – (because fear of failure is often sub- or un-conscious) -- but I definitely think that the essence of this statement is important and true.

THEN I open my friends OPRAH MAGAZINE. I don't subscribe anymore but there was an article my friend wanted me to see on anxiety so she loaned me the whole magazine. While perusing, an altogether dfiferent article than the one she intended caught my eye. "Miserable with their jobs, relationships, or daily routines...[m]ost people are trapped in prisons made of mind stuff...mind cages....When the alternatives are staying in the familiar cage or facing the unknown,...most people choose the cage -- over and over and over again....liberation is only a few simple steps away."

By this time, I was almost glowing with excitement, elation, confidence and gratitude. There were myriad other signs, coincidences, serendipitous encounters and confirming comments too numerous and minor to go into here. So to top it all off, I fished around in my bag for the New York Times clipping I had shoved in there this very morning. It was a paragraph from a David Brooks op-ed on death that reminded me of an experience I had in the hospital when my biopsy came back. "...[at] the end of [the] vision, 'I pinched myself hard, and ran through the multiplication tables, and recalled the birth of my seven brothers and sisters, and my wits were vibrantly about me. The whole thing had lasted three or four minutes, maybe less. I RESOLVED AT THAT MOMENT THAT I WOULD NEVER, NEVER LET ANYTHING DISSUADE ME FROM THE REALITY OF WHAT HAD HAPPENED. KNOWING MYSELF, I EXPECTED I WOULD LATER BE INCLINED TO DOUBT IT.'"

You may be hearing more from me than you want to right now. I write to heal, lift and sustain myself – against many odds and many spirits that would have me doubt what I know to be true. I write to chronicle the unfolding chain of events that I trust will be my testimony to order, glory and wonder in the universe. (John 9:3) (Acts 12:23)

Romans 8:28

2009-01-12T08:48:00.000-08:00

Things have been in upheaval lately.
The flood that turned my home upside down and shook it like a cup of dice still has me living in a virtual construction site.
The myriad insights that such an event provide are rich, complicated and numerous.
How much more is home than shelter against the elements?
And is home just a house after all?

Many things have happened differently, or happened for the last time.
I spent Thanksgiving away from “home” for the first time – and loved it.
I spent Christmas the way I usually spend Christmas – and knew I would not do it again.
I waited for the anxiety of the annual job contract renewal – and found that I didn’t care.

I acknowledged the state of my existence; and I wept.
I examine the possibilities I could control; and I write.
I visited Ikea yesterday, and came away with an office – a space to work.
This morning, I found that my job would be cut down if not cut out in the next six months.
I still don’t care; and I write to keep it that way.
I plan to look back and find this to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Rise or die.

I have worked 9-to-5’s for forty years now – punched clocks, had health insurance, stayed ahead of bills, and never left a job without having another job in hand.
I have been responsible, frugal and respectful.
I have been miserable.
Now freedom literally looms.

The Bible verse for today was Luke 23:33-43.
By accident, I turned to Luke 22:33-43 instead, where I found:

“…Lord, I am ready to go with thee, both into prison, and to death.

“…And he said unto them, When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and shoes, lacked ye any thing? And they said, Nothing.”

Realationships

2009-01-08T12:06:00.000-08:00

Relationships

It isn't you,
Nor is it me,
But it's the space between us.

We cannot be better than
Or different from
Exactly who we are,
But we can certainly improve
Or desecrate
That space that lives between us.

What we give to and take from
That full and vibrant living space
In a lifetime,
Makes us,
Breaks us,
Defines us and shapes us.
It is our spirit's sum --
What we inhale
And drink
And bask or bathe in.

It is a garden metaphor, true --
The place from which God tends us.
It is, my friend, my foe, oh my!
The space that lives between us.

Gale/2001

The Bottom Line ?

2008-12-22T08:29:00.000-08:00

ooops.
This is an oldie that I promised to a friend several weeks ago. My bad. Funny -- only because my promise was pre-economic collapse. I'm now wondering if it's any more or less applicable to anyone besides me.

BOTTOM LINE ??
Purpose: aim; end; intention; object in view.
Bottom: the lowest part of anything; the base; foundation or groundwork; origin.
Line: a course of conduct, thought or policy; a path.
BOTTOM LINE: basic policy? foundation course of conduct? original path?

Just an exercise in Webster's. We all know that the bottom is ... and what a line is ... and that The Bottom Line is. Don't we? Well, at least we know what The Bottom Line means -- it's the end as in "means to an end" -- it's the reason for everything that comes before -- it's the purpose of the whole business. So then -- what is it?

Is it money? Is it? Or is it something else?

Now if we were in class or into impressing our teacher, we would surely raise our hands and say, "Something else," even if we couldn't expound any further than that. Somewhere inside of ourselves, we know that "something else" is probably the correct answer ... or at least the answer that a teacher or anyone else who is seriously asking the question could possible be looking for. Otherwise, they wouldn't be asking because everyone knows and accepts the fact that, whether we like it or not, times have changed and money is the bottom line. People who pride themselves on being brutally honest or worldly cynical will tell you so right out. Everyone else will surely admit it when pressed. I mean, regardless of what you believe or what you want to believe, you cannot live in this world without money. Your survival, your success, your happiness ... all are determined by the amount of money you have. Right? And even if that leaves one or two of us vaguely uncomfortable, what alternative have we? If it's not money, what in the world is the meaning (the purpose, the bottom line) of all of this?

Well, if it's money, then everything is all right. If it's money, then we can easily justify drugs, crime, backstabbing, corruption, dishonesty -- even prostitution and just plain selling out. If money is the bottom line, then anything that begets you money is acceptable and justifiable. Not a logical progression, you say? Why not? The mere fact that you don't like the conclusion does not negate the fact that it is the logical outgrowth of the definition. If our bottom line is money; if our purpose here is to succeed materially; if the meaning of our existence is tied into our survival/happiness/success as determined by the level of our funds, then what has the drug dealer done wrong? Why isn't the neighborhood pimp an acceptable role model for your children? And how can we pretend outrage at the corruption in government? These are all just plain ordinary people like you and me who are maximizing their survival/happiness/success / bottom line.

My point here is that if you have a serious objection to the idea of obtaining money at any cost, then money is not your bottom line. It is something else. And you shouldn't run around saying that money is it. Bottom lines are unconditional and unrestrained. Bottom lines are viable at any cost. In this society where capitalism is the cornerstone belief, we are fed from every conceivable direction the concept that money is the bottom line. And, judging by the behavior of our teenagers (not to mention the government and the country in general), I'm beginning to think that each generation buys this American Dream a little bit more than the generation before.

But if it's not money, then what is it? Why are we here? What are we supposed to be doing during our four score and ten? And why are we all trying to play it off as if we know what we're doing? What is the reason for all of this? I know that we think that we know -- I mean simple answers for simple questions, right? But I want to exert some pressure here and demand an answer, in English, preferably in twenty-five words or less.

Okay -- really -- let's have it.

a word from your friendly neighborhood dealers:

2008-12-17T08:14:00.000-08:00

New York Times, Tuesday, December 16, 2008, P.A18. "Colonoscopies Miss Many Cancers, Study Finds". Hmmmm. No, I am NOT recommending that any of us skip this little screening. After all, the preparatory days of laxatives and fasting never really hurt anyone -- and the test itself is painless. I am simply reminding us that the medical establishment CANNOT be the ones responsible for keeping us alive and healthy. Only WE can prevent [forest fires].

New York Times, Tuesday, December 16, 2008, P.D6. "Acupuncture Provides Headache Relief." 'Course the DRUG companies would have you believe that ancient health and healing methods are ignorant, but the truth is the light. They call these methods "alternative" to remind us that DRUGS are the main way to go. Hope y'all keep a grain of salt handy.

deep exercise even for me

2008-12-11T08:13:00.001-08:00

'Smatter of fact, it's kind of neat thinking that no one you know will be reading your blog -- kind of frees a person up, if you know what I mean.

When considering some of the cultural philosophies of parenting, consider these dichotomies. There is child-centered and there is traditional. Then there is extremely child-centered and extremely traditional. Then there is the ever superior balance between the two.

Child-centered takes its direction from the child's experience of the world. We study our children, help them express their inner impressions, then help them build upon -- or correct -- those impressions.
Traditional takes its direction from the adult's experience of the world. We seek to create an age-appropriate set of impressions in our children that reflects what we consider relevant.

Extremely child-centered also takes its direction from the child's experience of the world but fails to build upon or correct children' impressions. In cultures where this philosophy is dominant, adults see parenthood as the virtual end of their own lives and devote their efforts and resources to accommodating children.

Extremely traditional takes its direction completely from the adult's experience of the world. It fails to consider the input or uniqueness of children -- or the limitations or fallibility of adults. In cultures where this philosophy is dominant, conformity is rewarded and change can be anathema.

I am a child.
Child-Centered: I am the center of my own existence.
Extremely Child-Centered: I am the center of all existence.
Traditional: I am part of a larger existence.
Extremely Traditional: You are the center of my existence.

I am a parent.
Child-Centered: I am the center of my own existence; I teach my child to be the center of his/her own existence.
Extremely Child-Centered: I was the center of my own existence; my child is now the center of my existence.
Traditional: I am part of a larger existence; I teach my child to be part of a larger existence.
Extremely Traditional: The center of my existence is outside of me; I am now the center of my child's existence.

Ah, the balance of parenting. "Some things change and some things stay the same." Our children are likely to be proficient in the things that have changed since we were young (think technology). We would do well to let them learn leadership skills as they teach us about and navigate these things on our behalf. On the other hand, we should not surrender the reins when it comes to the things that stay the same (think human nature). Maintaining leadership and authority may be difficult but remains necessary for those who possess the wisdom that only time can bring about.

I'm ba-a-a-ck

2008-12-10T08:39:00.000-08:00

"...last publshed on August 1..."
What in the world have I been thinking!?!

I've been thinking a lot of things, actually. I just haven't been sharing any of them. No, I haven't been busy. And no, I haven't lost interest. I lost something though. A good friend of mine confessed that she just doesn't read blogs. She didn't want me to take that personally (?) but blogs just weren't her thing. Too deep, too thought-provoking, too who-knows-what. 'Course she LOVES getting letters from me, but that's different. (?) I really TRIED not to take it personally -- but if my friends aren't reading me, then why -- and to whom -- am I writing?

I write because I like to write.
I write because I have something to say.
I write because I can.
I write because I am.

So I'm back. How are you?

Diet & Nutrition ??

2008-08-01T05:35:00.000-07:00

Another conversation -- in another venue -- I promised to post yet another older piece from the archives. The specific subject line -- "Are you acting bad because you feel so crazy? Or are you acting crazy because you feel so bad?" -- comes up a lot in elementary school work. Enjoy!

The things that make you feel good
Are not the things they’re selling you.
They’re not the things they promise and
Guarantee will make you feel
Young, happy, healthy and good.

Yes, my brothers and sisters,
Once again,
They’ve psyched us out.
You can take my word for it.
(‘Cause I feel great!)

You see, the things that make us feel good
Were here before the IOL* ever got here.
People knew how to “get high”
(on life)
And how to “cure what ailed them”
(with exercise, rest and diet)
Long before IOL* started selling
Prozac, aspirin and PCP, you know.

Hey!
Are you acting bad because you feel so crazy?
Or are you acting crazy because you feel so bad?
Either way, there’s nothing
NOTHING
That they can sell you that’s gonna make you feel any better.

Not a boat or a car or a house,
(Only happy children know what to do with toys.)
Not a pill or a shot or an ointment,
(‘Specially if it’s your life that’s making you sick.)
Not a meal or a drink or a cigar/cigarette
(Over time, you’re back to the medicine chest.)
Not new clothes, new hair, or new nails.
(It’s you, not your mask, that needs the boost.)

It’s not what you buy that makes you feel good
At least not for more than a minute.
It’s what you do that makes you feel good.
Your work, your love, your kids.

Just take a look at pride, for instance –
The real pride that comes from work.
You raise a baby and then a child
To become a teenager and then an adult
Whose words and actions (not sneakers and cars)
Make you go
“YES!!!
That’s MY kid!!!”
You feel good – you want to laugh all over yourself.
Not because you worked enough to
Buy the right things –
But because you bit the bullet and
Did and taught the right things.

Ode to Separated Parents

2008-07-29T07:38:00.000-07:00

In follow-up to a recent conversation -- and because I haven't posted for a bit -- I am posting an older piece from my archives. Let me know what you think..

Ode to Separated Parents

To be known.
This is the deepest desire
Of every human being.

To be known for who and what one is –
To be accepted for who and what one is –
To be appreciated for who and what one is –
And yet to be loved.

There is nothing greater than this
And nothing for which humans strive harder.

It is the basic and biggest hook of religion –
The good news that God knows you
Inside and out,
And still loves you.

Can parenting be more than this?
Is it our duty as parents
To mold our children into
What we know will work?
Or is it our deeper duty to
Learn our children?
To help them know
That they are known,
Accepted,
Appreciated –
And still loved?

Behavior is ours to teach them,
I’m sure.
The knowledge of how
To treat themselves
And how to treat all others
Is certainly ours to pass on.
But who they should be?
That is most certainly
God’s to determine,
Theirs to fight for,
And ours only to defend.

“Our children are not our children…”

Children whose parents don’t know each other
In this all-encompassing way
Must fight to remain whole.
Their parents see too clearly in them
The pain they left
Or tried to leave
Behind.
These parents work
To carve those other-parent pieces
Of their children
Up, out and away.
As if that could be.

All that can happen is that the child
Must fight.
And either defeat the parent
(So sad)
Or cede the deepest desire
Of all humans.

To be known – completely
To be accepted – completely.
To be appreciated, protected, nurtured, trained and taught.

And to be loved – unconditionally.

and yet another reason to vote....

2008-07-29T07:26:00.000-07:00

Page 1. New York Times. Tuesday, July 29, 2008.

"HANDING OVER A RECORD DEFICIT
President Bush, who took office after three years of budget surpluses, will exit on a record $482 billion deficit."

Uhh. So, in other words, in the last four years, the government of this country has spent more than 482 BILLION DOLLARS. The federal government has taken 482 BILLION DOLLARS from its coffers and given it to ... whom? Whom? What people, what industries, what countries have benefited from this Republican administration's largesse? According to the rest of today's newspaper, it sure wasn't us, no matter how you define "us."

And a P.S. shout-out to Bill Clinton who balanced the budget while he was in office and showed a surplus for the last three years of his administration. They would like us to think that his Presidency was defined by m.l., but it is this balanced budget that we really should remember.

Congratulations Shout Out to Debra

2008-07-21T08:17:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, I drove to Montclair, New Jersey to see my friend, Debra – to visit, to see her new apartment, and to pick up the mini-refrigerator she is passing along to me.

What a lovely town Montclair is! It reminds me of Nantucket or someplace. Little tree-lined streets, pretty benches in front of charming stores with racks of merchandise outside offering little hints of what might be found inside – cute little restaurants with indoor and outdoor seating. Oh and get this! There was a community yarn store with women sitting around a big table, talking, laughing and knitting beautiful things. Oh! How me is that!!

And Debra’s apartment is lovely too! Bright, light, airy with lots of windows, ceiling fans and a cute little fire escape with wrought iron flower boxes hanging from the rails. Aww.

It was perfect! A big, bright, empty canvas on which to write the rest of my life – oh, I mean the rest of her life.

We had a nice visit. I am very happy for her. She sent me off with the (exactly right) refrigerator and a stack of decorating magazines so I could quit drooling and start creating. How sweet is she!

On Sunday, I found myself on my back porch with pen and paper. I usually meander through my neighborhood parks on Sundays but the heat had stolen my energy this week. You may remember that it was 95o on Sunday -- hot, sticky and humid all over New York. From where I was sitting, though, it was pleasant and at least 10o cooler. The leaves on the trees were almost horizontal thanks to the steady breeze blowing back there. I had brewed a pot of iced tea and was chillin’ for real. I surveyed my 8’x20’ realm with my Montclair visit and my magazines in the back of my mind and thought to myself, “Hey! This might work!”

The lovely Hope Chest that my daughter and granddaughter made for me is a tangible symbol and focus for the future I am trying to create for myself. It also symbolizes, however, the beginning of a very lo-o-ng journey. I had been wondering how in the world I was going to make it so many years waiting and working toward a dream!! Somewhere between Montclair, NJ and a few magazines, I saw the seeds of a possible answer in my own backyard!

Congratulations and thanks, my friend!!

The Middle Age

2008-06-29T13:58:00.000-07:00

There are many signs that age has caught up with me – that I belong to a generation bygone.
For the most part, I’m very cool with these signs.
Aging, after all, is a fair exchange for peace and wisdom.
But riding the busses and subways in this new age that bears witness to:
MEN OF ALL AGES, SHAPES AND TYPES LOUNGING WITH LEGS SPREAD WIDE (ACCOMMODATING what!? FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE!!) GAZING AROUND THEMSELVES AT WOMEN OF ALL AGES, SHAPES AND TYPES (INCLUDING PREGNANT!) STANDING, BALANCING, SHIFTING FROM FOOT TO FOOT.
This is just too hard to take.
It offends my old-lady sensibilities beyond endurance!!

Did you know that the pursuit of peace and happiness was going to take this much work and wisdom?
We thought that it just meant finding the right people to pay us attention.
To provide us with true love, acceptance, understanding, fame, admiration, some money – and some more true love.
Turns out – at least as far as I can see – that the pursuit has more to do with a “me, myself, and I” focus than anything.
Do I love, accept, understand, admire and share myself? Hmmmm.

“The best mirror is a true friend.”
A truer Chinese cookie fortune was never written.
When “friend” is true -- not Disney or Hallmark.
(My father used to say that anyone who can boast three real friends in a lifetime is a rare and lucky person.)
By the time we know what a true friend is…
By the time we learn to be a friend to another… (which has to happen before we can have a friend, according to The Word)…
By the time we become our own best friends...

Oh my. So much to learn, so little time.
Nevertheless, progress is made.
Realizations are made, lessons are learned, work pays off.
The rhythms, the ebbs and flows are accepted and appreciated as life defined.
And everything is OK just as long as I avoid

TIRED.
My great undoing and un-doer – TIRED.
I get TIRED like a 2-year-old -- suddenly and totally.

Getting rest is just a function of finding uninterrupted time and space.
But I don’t yet know – and I thought you might help:
What are we supposed to do with the toxins?
We absorb rhythms, vibes, stress, angst and negativity from colleagues, bosses, fellow commuters, family and friends.
We take hits to the mind, body and spirit on the regular -- day in and day out.
Where do the toxins go?

I’m looking now for a regular masseuse or spa or acupuncturist or something.
My health insurance won’t cover – so I can’t go crazy.
But I do have to dump this stuff somewhere.
Got any suggestions?

The Tender Bar

2008-06-29T07:42:00.000-07:00

The book I just finished was on the Times' Best Seller list last year for a while.
I recommend it.
It's called The Tender Bar -- a funny and well-written memoir by a journalist who spent much of his fatherless childhood hanging with the men in a neighborhood bar.

Aside from being well-written, it offers yet another reminder that the minds, perspectives and logic of children is spectacularly different from ours.
That reminder helps us to remember that any hope of raising, training, helping and/or teaching them lies in learning them.

My favorite phrase from my all-time favorite song --
"....Teach them well and let them lead the way.
Show them all the beauty they possess inside.
Give them a sense of pride
To make it easier....."

A Hope Chest

2008-06-16T12:36:00.000-07:00

I’m feeling like I want a box to store the dreams, plans and preparations I have for this my last home.
I’ve had homes before – Muirkirk Road in Maryland, Unionport Road in Parkchester.
But this will be the first real home I’ve created with me in mind.
No husband, no children (love y’all), no parents, no job, no practicalities – just me.
Not a waystation where I go to prepare for my responsibilities – not a place to reload ammo between battles – not a place to get ready.
But hopefully a place to repair to at the end of days.
A place where everything I see, hear, taste, feel and smell creates “Gale pleasure.”

I can’t quite imagine the storage box.
It quickly became envelopes, index cards and color-coded tabs in my mind.
So I fell back on my default of a pretty notebook that might hold it all.
I began jotting here – which will have to do until I find a notebook worthy of this most exciting journey.

Halfway through this page, it occurred to me that what I am seeking is a HOPE CHEST.

I think I might fashion links of colored paper clips or something – that will represent my progress.
How many more payments before I own my acre outright (with yellow clips)?
How many more payments before I can use my car payment money toward my Hope Chest (with green clips)?
Dare I try to identify a retirement year and count those down as well?
Sure, why not?!
It could be how many more years until I’m eligible to collect Social Security (with blue clips).

There are things around me now that I hope to have around me then.
Do I want to list/identify these things?
Or do I want to see what is missing from such a list so I can window shop?
I’m not sure – but I do want to begin to imagine houses.
A log cabin? A double-wide trailer? A pre-fabricated cottage?

I guess I want to begin collecting research, information, ideas.
I want to take the next step from soft dreams and imagined possibilities to plans, timetables, budgets and tasks.

Will a pretty basket do?

It doesn’t matter what the future holds –
Whether or not my hope becomes reality one day.
This HOPE brings me help, hope and peace today.
So I want it to live in a visual, tangible, and pretty CHEST.

Blood -- or Sap -- is Thicker Than Water

2008-06-11T11:44:00.001-07:00

The fun thing about reading science news -- is that it SO lacks the arrogance of pundits.
Nature ALWAYS provides surprises for folks.
All these degrees and still so much that we don't know!!

This week, scientists report that a particular plant can actually tell the difference between its relatives and other plants.
AND -- it can give its relatives preferential treatment!
Ha!
The plant is called a sea rocket.

"If the sea rocket detects unrelated plants growing in the ground with it, the plant aggressively sprouts nutrient-grabbing roots. But if it detects family, it politely restrains itself. The finding is a surprise, even a bit of a shock, in part because most animals have not even been shown to have the ability to recognize relatives, despite the huge advantages in doing so."

I always wonder why are they always surprised when they "discover" something about Nature? And I wonder why they always "discover" rather than "learn" -- as if things don't exist until they know about them.

We Know Better

2008-06-04T12:34:00.000-07:00

It is my belief that we come originally from a healthful society that existed in harmony with Nature – a society that taught respect for the human body as well as for other forms of life. I believe we come from a society where sickness was rare and (I know) cured or treated with some combination of Nature’s gifts. (Even after hundreds of years, I know of no one who doesn’t know at least one home remedy passed down through the family.)

But we don’t live in that society anymore. We live in this one. And we’ve been living in this one for a long time … long enough to have forgotten the health habits of the old and picked up the habits of the new.

And we know better.

We know that survival is about adjusting to Nature’s ways as they ebb and flow. We know that survival is not about attempting to triumph over Nature. There is no such thing. We know, in other words, that a species’ survival is determined by its ability to adjust to the rhythms of Nature and not by a species’ ability to conquer Nature.

We know. Ask any grown person (and most children, for that matter) whether it is better to take tea, honey, lemon, rest and orange juice for a cold … or a 12-hour cold capsule (all of the former being Nature’s gifts and the latter made by man in chemical laboratories). Common sense says that Nature is better qualified to tend the human body than is man.

Common sense … the one tool that Nature has given each of us to ensure our survival … the tool that this society sneers at because it doesn’t come with an endorsement that can be bought or signed or affixed with a seal … the tool that we have given up because acceptance in this society means more to us than does survival. We all are convinced that to be smart, one has to have degrees – not common sense.

Common sense tells us to improve the nourishment with which we feed ourselves – mind, body and spirit – so that our bodies, made strong with health-giving foods and habits, can resist the invasion of illness and decay.
Our new society tells us to feed ourselves -- mind, body and spirit -- with “success-oriented” but illness-causing foods and habits … then cure our resultant illnesses with the “wonders of medical science” which, of course, have (known or guessed-at) side effects.
The values of this society decree that we spend time and talent locating, defining and researching the diseases that this Western way of life has created – so that we can conquer the diseases with chemical medicines, radiation and surgical procedures (just about all of which also cause illness).

(This all, by the way, fits in well with the All-American Rule of “make money, make money, make money.” I mean, if we were to suddenly begin to listen to our own bodies and our instincts and lead healthful lives, think how many members of the medical, research, and pharmaceutical professions would have to find something else to do!)

Common Sense. When it tells us to give our bodies rest when we are tired, we ignore it to give ourselves the All-American and well-advertised entertainment offered by late-night television.
When common sense tells us to go outside at lunchtime to partake of fresh air (since new office buildings have been designed, for our safety, with windows that don’t open [???]), we ignore it to remain at our desks – the rigors of the All American Work Ethic.
When common sense tells us that home cooking is healthier than chemically processed or preserved foods, we ignore it to preserve what little time and energy we have for more important (?) pursuits.
When common sense tells us that we need some type of exercise every day, we ignore it to slouch in front of the television.
When common sense tells us that putting chemical substances in or on our bodies is dangerous, we ignore it, light up a cigarette and straighten our hair with lye products.

We have actually learned to ignore our ancestors, our heritage and our own common sense.

And we do the same for (or to) our children – giving them fast food during the day, television and home permanents at night, and good-tasting children’s aspirin in between. Oh, the shame of it.

Why? Why is it that we would rather remain entrenched in the crazy Catch-22 of living an illness-causing existence while relieving ourselves with illness-causing cures than learn (or re-learn) to live a healthful existence?

Every week, man invents a new medicine. Every doctor you know has an office full of free manufacturers’ samples … of every conceivable type of chemical medicine and some that are not so conceivable. And one considers oneself lucky when the doctor gives us these samples free of charge. Every week, too, man makes a surprise discovery that such-and-such a medicine (or some other manmade phenomenon) has been found to cause cancer (or whatever) – in laboratory animals. Meaning that rather than restrict one’s diet and lifestyle to life-giving, natural substances, it is preferable to fill one’s body with cancer-causing substances until it has been proven (on laboratory animals) beyond a shadow of a doubt that this stuff will make you sick, sick, sick. And, or course, by then, your body is stuck on the stuff (everything that is bad for you is also addicting in some way) and, even though they know and tell you that something is cancer-causing, they continue to allow it to be available to anyone with the price of it in their outstretched hands.

Dogs chase their tails – Western man creates illnesses and then creates cures for them. Maybe that makes him think he’s smart. And we, from other cultures, already think he’s smart (because he told us so) and we seem only too willing to follow him in order to benefit from his knowledge and to prove to him and to ourselves that we are as good as he.

It is my believe that, in our ongoing quest for freedom and equality in this society, we must readjust ourselves to Nature’s rhythms, re-develop a reliance on our God-given instincts and re-learn long-forgotten health habits and life philosophies. It’s time to pay serious attention to strengthening ourselves – as individuals, as families, and as peoples. Money is the bottom line decreed by this society, but survival is the bottom line decreed by something older and greater – and we know it.

2008-06-04T12:17:00.000-07:00

I was afraid of this. :-)

My will to write comes in fits and starts.
My creativity, if you will, ebbs and flows.
I find that the ebbing can be attributed to stress of any kind --
Physical, psychological, spiritual or emotional.
(And trust me -- "tired" is nothing more than physical stress.)
But the flowing -- as a plumber can confirm --
Resumes naturally when the stress (clog) is removed.

When I was considering starting this blog,
I hesitated for many reasons.
My ebbs and flows -- made one of them.

My son's most recent posting on his blog reads:

"Apologies for the lack of posts, but I'm MOVING!!!
So much to do... so we're doing that. I'll be back soon."

I thought that considerate of him. Don't you?
I'm gonna hesitate to go there, though.
I'll just be apologizing over and over again.

What I would like to do here
Is to assure you that I'll do my best
To steer clear of stress and clogs...
And to keep writing.

In the meantime,
While I'm recuperating,
I'm gonna post something I wrote a while back.
Enjoy!

And holla'!!!!

The headline reads....

2008-05-30T17:13:00.000-07:00

"Army sees suicides jump 13%"

I don't even know what to say about this.
How can anyone justify ANY war
Much less THIS war?
Not only are we sending our kids off to be killed,
And not only are they trying to kill people with whom we have no personal beef,
But the whole experience is so catastrophic, barbaric and traumatizing,
That our kids are choosing death for themselves?!?!
How crazy is all of this!?

This may be the first time --
But will definitely not be the last time --
That you hear me say that
Education
Holds the keys to peace
and Quality of Life.
It is not just job training, Folks.
But more about that later......

When is a bargain not a bargain?

2008-05-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

Careful!
There's nothing wrong with a knockoff handbag...
And possibly not much wrong with a bootleg cd or dvd.
But counterfeit Trojan condoms smuggled in from China?
Mmmmmm, I think not!

I'm Ready Now

2008-05-28T08:33:00.000-07:00

And I'm back.
It's taken me a minute to be sure.
Blogging is more than a notion.
But I'm determined to jump in anyway, so here goes.

Peace.
It is certainly not easy to find.
And it is not found where we seek it --
In true love or prized possessions.
There's really no way around it.
The way to peace is to take the guided tour
Back through it all
To You.

So this is me --
I'll be writing when I can,
And hoping that you'll drop me a line as well.

'Til then...
Peace.

Love quotes

2007-08-27T09:04:00.000-07:00

"The most desired gift of love is not diamonds or roses or chocolate. It is focused attention." Rick Warren

"But love...is more than three words mumbled before bedtime." Nicholas Sparks

Taken together, these quotes comprise a message that many parents of young children need to hear. Focused attention -- the opportunity to be deeply known -- who could ask for anything more?

2007-08-14T19:46:00.000-07:00

Coming across the George Washington Bridge, it is hard not to think of Minneapolis and its bridge collapse.

Bridge safety -- one of the many things we don't notice until it isn't there. When you consider the money and people that go into planning, building and maintaining all of the bridges, roads, and tunnels in our city, state and country...and then consider the very many (Black and Brown) parts of the world where these things are underfinanced, undermanned and poorly planned if they exist at all...we can be somewhat thankful to be here in this country that has mangled our collective spirit.