*I am going to mention the health care reform debate, and this post is not going to be that funny.*
Consider yourself forewarned, and please do not become alarmed, stop reading this post or succumb to the overwhelming urge to spew rhetoric. I am not planning to talk politics or debate which "-ism" is more flawed. There are far too many nuances to the issues that I don't fully grasp.
The thing I do want to talk about is a pattern I see that has become increasingly alarming to me as this wearisome media storm rages on. Simply put, when did we all stop trusting everyone but ourselves? I feel odd even bringing this up because I am usually what I would term a realist and what some would call a cynic. I'm certainly not a Pollyanna that wants to carry on blindly with my head in the clouds, but the level of distrust I see astounds me. We don't trust our leaders. We don't trust our fellow citizens or our neighbors, and some of us in our hearts seem to not even trust our friends. So much of the chatter is centered on "them" and how "they" are trying to screw "us" over. It's coming from all sides too. I know people on both extremes of the political spectrum accusing the other group of the same thing.
The funny thing is, when I think of the people I know, I can't conjure one image of someone that is actively working to take advantage of others. Certainly there are plenty of flawed humans and hidden agendas, but I have a hard time swallowing the idea that the whole world gets up in the morning looking to step on everyone around them. Mostly, I know a lot of people that work hard and try to live good lives. More often than not, I'm surprised by the kindness and generosity of people, rather than the opposite. Certainly there are some selfish jerks out there, but I personally find them to be the exception to the rule. This was even the case when I worked for a social service agency. I found myself consistently and pleasantly surprised that both the clients of our food bank and our wealthy Eastside donors were generous, grateful and considerate of their community.
To me, this is a problem that is more insidious and harmful than any policy change. It's being highlighted through the health care reform debate, but I think it's not limited to this arena. I wish the media would give it a little attention and maybe leave Sandra Bullock alone for awhile. I think to some extent fear and distrust are natural feelings for a person who is stressed or threatened, a state many of us find ourselves in these days. I also believe that we have control over our mindset and our emotions. Personal responsibility starts with me--not with "them." In fact, our thinking and our behavior are the only things we can control no matter what the external situation may be.
While I certainly believe in healthy dialogue and debate, I can't help but feel that we would be collectively more content and better equipped to navigate this stressful economic and political time if we committed to begin from a place of trust. In my opinion if we allow ourselves to be drawn into an atmosphere of fear and distrust, it will only serve to hurt us both individually and collectively. I know you think I might burst into a chorus of Kumbaya at any moment, but any negotiator would back me up. It's much easier to find common ground when you are looking for it. Can we try to see our own humanity in those whom we want to distrust? It's so much harder to fear "them" when we do, and I believe it will lift a heavy weight from our shoulders.
4.03.2010
3.18.2010
It's Only Life After All
Every now and then when I'm feeling stressed out like I was this morning, something amusing happens to me. A song pops into my head. Not just any song, mind you. This one belongs to a band that went to my high school called Dork, which was led by a guy named Spike. I am not making this up. Even the teachers called him that. The lyrics say, "Today was a good day. Yesterday sucked. Tomorrow will be better if we make it that way. Ya, ya, ya, ya." Very profound, I know. It was the height of ska (kind of a reggae/punk mix for those that blinked and missed that era).
The thing that makes it noteworthy for me is not the depth of the lyrics or the quality of the melody, but the fact that I cannot think of this song without smiling. It's silly, but it works every time. All of the sudden I am transported back to high school. I think of the silly, happy song and the goofy band, and it is impossible to take myself and my life so seriously. (I'm not sure this would work for everyone. One of my friends from the time lived within earshot of their practice space, so I think the thought of their songs makes her grind her teeth.)
I lost track of these guys, and I'm pretty sure the band broke up when we graduated. Last I heard Spike was headed to the University of Hawaii to major in surfing. Wherever they are, I'd like to say thanks to Dork. Your music still makes me smile, whether it’s today, yesterday or tomorrow.
The thing that makes it noteworthy for me is not the depth of the lyrics or the quality of the melody, but the fact that I cannot think of this song without smiling. It's silly, but it works every time. All of the sudden I am transported back to high school. I think of the silly, happy song and the goofy band, and it is impossible to take myself and my life so seriously. (I'm not sure this would work for everyone. One of my friends from the time lived within earshot of their practice space, so I think the thought of their songs makes her grind her teeth.)
I lost track of these guys, and I'm pretty sure the band broke up when we graduated. Last I heard Spike was headed to the University of Hawaii to major in surfing. Wherever they are, I'd like to say thanks to Dork. Your music still makes me smile, whether it’s today, yesterday or tomorrow.
3.06.2010
The Way of the Kitty
It's been quite a while since I blogged, I know. What can I say? I've been working at some side jobs that have turned into almost full time work. It's amazing how uninspired that can make a person. There's also the reality of just how tired growing a child can make you. Anyway, I'm back, hopefully to write more consistently.
One morning this week I was making my bed and observing the daily ritual my cats undertake during this process. It got me thinking that their approaches really are a metaphor for life. Not one to pass up sharing the Tao of the Kitty, I thought I would share.
As soon as my husband and I leave the bed in the morning, both cats jump up and get very comfortable, each being careful not to invade the other one's territorial claim. (This is very important because one is a pacifist and other one is a fascist dictator. Boundaries are crucial to peace.) One usually lies spread-eagle on her back, while the other one sprawls out on her side. This bliss lasts while the humans rush around getting ready for the day, and then the time comes to make the bed.
Neither of them will jump down willingly, so I usually just start moving pillows and tugging at the covers. Without fail this will evoke the same response in each one every time. The dictator will immediately jump down and stare back at me indignantly, making unhappy noises. The pacifist, back-lier just holds on for the ride, stretching and making contented sounds.
As I watched this the other morning for the seemingly zillionth time, I had to laugh. Aren't we all a little like one of these creatures? The bed must be made. We know it's coming. It happens every day, and yet some of us will rage against the machine getting angry at the disruptive realities of life. Meanwhile, others just stretch and get more comfortable, enjoying the ride of life. I tend to be more of an indignant rager, but I'm thinking...maybe my mornings would be happier if I followed the way of the stretching, contented kitty.
One morning this week I was making my bed and observing the daily ritual my cats undertake during this process. It got me thinking that their approaches really are a metaphor for life. Not one to pass up sharing the Tao of the Kitty, I thought I would share.
As soon as my husband and I leave the bed in the morning, both cats jump up and get very comfortable, each being careful not to invade the other one's territorial claim. (This is very important because one is a pacifist and other one is a fascist dictator. Boundaries are crucial to peace.) One usually lies spread-eagle on her back, while the other one sprawls out on her side. This bliss lasts while the humans rush around getting ready for the day, and then the time comes to make the bed.
Neither of them will jump down willingly, so I usually just start moving pillows and tugging at the covers. Without fail this will evoke the same response in each one every time. The dictator will immediately jump down and stare back at me indignantly, making unhappy noises. The pacifist, back-lier just holds on for the ride, stretching and making contented sounds.
As I watched this the other morning for the seemingly zillionth time, I had to laugh. Aren't we all a little like one of these creatures? The bed must be made. We know it's coming. It happens every day, and yet some of us will rage against the machine getting angry at the disruptive realities of life. Meanwhile, others just stretch and get more comfortable, enjoying the ride of life. I tend to be more of an indignant rager, but I'm thinking...maybe my mornings would be happier if I followed the way of the stretching, contented kitty.
1.20.2010
It's Not Why Time
A while back a friend and I were chatting about a theory she had heard. The idea was that everybody has a primary question (who, what, when, where, why, or how) that informs the way in which they interpret the world. Immediately I knew that my question is undoubtedly why. It started early for me. In my childhood it was so incessant that my grandfather invented something called “why time.” As in, “it’s not why time right now!” I’m sure this was in response to the inevitable merry-go-round of questioning that comes from an inquisitive four year old. Behind every reason there’s always another question as to why that reason is true.
As I have grown older I have learned to (begrudgingly) accept that sometimes there is no good answer to that pesky question. This truth has been painfully apparent this last week as I’ve watched the horrific aftermath of the earthquake unfold in Haiti. Of course, there are scientific explanations for earthquakes and sociopolitical reasons that help explain the magnitude of the devastation. These really aren’t satisfying, though, because they don’t truly get at the BIG whys. Why them and not me? Why did those babies have to die? Why do I get to sleep in a warm bed with plenty to eat, while the Haitians wander their former streets homeless and hungry?
The fact is there are no real answers to these questions. All possible explanations that we can grasp with the human mind fall severely short. More dangerously, these “answers” lead us into false attribution of blame or merit. We run the risk of falling into the trap of thinking that good things happen to those who do good and bad things happen to those who have done wrong. The truth is, though, “Time and chance happen to us all.” (Eccl. 9:11)
So, even as I struggle with the desire to know why, I’m trying to change my question to something more appropriate and productive. I’m asking, “what would I want someone to do if I was affected by this crisis?” and “how can I help alleviate the suffering of the Haitians?” There are concrete answers to these questions, and they are the only answers that matter to our suffering neighbors.
Please Donate:
American Red Cross
Doctors without Borders
Mercy Corps
Partners in Health
World Vision
World Relief
As I have grown older I have learned to (begrudgingly) accept that sometimes there is no good answer to that pesky question. This truth has been painfully apparent this last week as I’ve watched the horrific aftermath of the earthquake unfold in Haiti. Of course, there are scientific explanations for earthquakes and sociopolitical reasons that help explain the magnitude of the devastation. These really aren’t satisfying, though, because they don’t truly get at the BIG whys. Why them and not me? Why did those babies have to die? Why do I get to sleep in a warm bed with plenty to eat, while the Haitians wander their former streets homeless and hungry?
The fact is there are no real answers to these questions. All possible explanations that we can grasp with the human mind fall severely short. More dangerously, these “answers” lead us into false attribution of blame or merit. We run the risk of falling into the trap of thinking that good things happen to those who do good and bad things happen to those who have done wrong. The truth is, though, “Time and chance happen to us all.” (Eccl. 9:11)
So, even as I struggle with the desire to know why, I’m trying to change my question to something more appropriate and productive. I’m asking, “what would I want someone to do if I was affected by this crisis?” and “how can I help alleviate the suffering of the Haitians?” There are concrete answers to these questions, and they are the only answers that matter to our suffering neighbors.
Please Donate:
American Red Cross
Doctors without Borders
Mercy Corps
Partners in Health
World Vision
World Relief
1.06.2010
Who's the Boss?
Recently I’ve been thinking quite a bit about the illusion of being in control. For some reason I’ve had several conversations in the last week about this topic, and that’s set my wheels turning. Being pregnant also seems to be a constant reminder that I am no longer “in control” of my body. Just today I tried to walk up a hill and got so dizzy I had to stop three times, all the while making me more frustrated. Good grief! I should be able to walk up a hill without stopping. But…apparently that wasn’t in the cards, and really what was I accomplishing by getting annoyed. Who suffered? Only me. It didn’t change the reality.
It seems to me that a lot of our struggles and angst in this life are based in the fight for control. We’re fighting others, fighting our flaws, fighting nature and fighting the unknown. We try lots of different methods. Some of us drive ourselves crazy with worry over every single imaginable outcome in the hope that if we prepare ourselves then everything will be OK. Others try to manipulate and argue our way into what we think is “the way.” Some of us withdraw, thinking the less others are in our lives the more control we can retain.
Honestly, it’s a losing battle. None of these methods are fully effective. They exhaust us. They alienate us from others. They leave us feeling angry and let down because we’ve failed to perform the impossible task. It’s no way to live. We can never truly be fully in control. That would require the ability to transcend time and space. To read minds. You would need a flux capacitor for sure, and I bet x-ray vision wouldn’t hurt. Plus, I doubt it would be a very fun existence.
What are we to do then? Stick our heads in the sand and assume someone else is responsible for our lives? That’s no way to live either. I think we’ve got to find a new metaphor. Maybe we need to focus less on dictating every step along the path and more on successfully navigating the journey toward the intended destination. We can spend our lives clawing at road blocks, or we can just accept that we need to find a different way.
This year, I’m want to spend more time focused on living a life rooted in my values in a constantly changing world and less time focused on the perception of how exactly I accomplish that. I’m going to try for less bulldozing and more careful steering.
It seems to me that a lot of our struggles and angst in this life are based in the fight for control. We’re fighting others, fighting our flaws, fighting nature and fighting the unknown. We try lots of different methods. Some of us drive ourselves crazy with worry over every single imaginable outcome in the hope that if we prepare ourselves then everything will be OK. Others try to manipulate and argue our way into what we think is “the way.” Some of us withdraw, thinking the less others are in our lives the more control we can retain.
Honestly, it’s a losing battle. None of these methods are fully effective. They exhaust us. They alienate us from others. They leave us feeling angry and let down because we’ve failed to perform the impossible task. It’s no way to live. We can never truly be fully in control. That would require the ability to transcend time and space. To read minds. You would need a flux capacitor for sure, and I bet x-ray vision wouldn’t hurt. Plus, I doubt it would be a very fun existence.
What are we to do then? Stick our heads in the sand and assume someone else is responsible for our lives? That’s no way to live either. I think we’ve got to find a new metaphor. Maybe we need to focus less on dictating every step along the path and more on successfully navigating the journey toward the intended destination. We can spend our lives clawing at road blocks, or we can just accept that we need to find a different way.
This year, I’m want to spend more time focused on living a life rooted in my values in a constantly changing world and less time focused on the perception of how exactly I accomplish that. I’m going to try for less bulldozing and more careful steering.
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