I jumped the gun on this entry. I'll try to avoid it in the future.
The highlight for this week will inevitably be the best moment for the past couple of months.
Thank you, Stacy, for giving me one hour or so in which I was not crazy, not overreacting, not wrong to have the feelings that I do, the convictions I possess, the ideals that are most precious to me... thank you for knowing where I am and letting me know that you're there, too. It means more to me than I can tell you.
But, you knew that.
Thank you.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Saturday Speaks: The benefits of school presentations
(from http://hartleyfoundation.org) There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.
-Howard Thurman
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday Sabbath: Do you know what you're saying?
While away on sabbatical, I found myself in a conversation with a stranger.
That, in itself, should sound relatively strange. I am not the most approachable person. It's not so much because I seem unfriendly as it probably seems that I'm preoccupied, in my own universe.
But, there I was, walking into a small town coffee shop. The frazzled barista behind the counter hung up the phone and commenced with the appropriate script. "Hi there! How are you?"
I smiled with sympathy. "I'm doing alright. How are you?"
"Good, thanks!" it came through subtly gritted teeth.
"You sure about that? I'm not terribly convinced, " I smiled deliberately.
Her guard broke entirely. She admitted to having had "one of those days" and commented on a boyfriend issue or what not. I had just spent two and a half days in my own head, so I was welcoming to the discussion of the problems of someone else.
"That's pretty impressive," said this youthful voice to my left. I was almost startled by her presence. Beside me with both feet on the seat of her stool, knees up to the chin, a fourteen year old girl studied me. Her long stringy dark hair dangled around mismatched, stitched together patterns under black pants and a dark t-shirt. She looked up sincerely with light brown eyes... a strange color actually. They reminded me of a baby's eyes, still choosing a permanent color.
"What is?" I had to laugh.
"You actually asked a question. You wanted to know how she was doing. Seriously."
"Well, I know most people treat it like a greeting, but I think that's condescending. We're human beings. We come into contact with interesting people everyday and we probably don't know it because we don't actually take the time to find out who they are."
I had a funny, funny feeling talking to her. I couldn't decide if this was the sort of chat I would have with a future daughter... or talking to the younger version of myself. She reminded me so very much of me... thinking she knew better than those around her but wanting desperately two contradictory things: to help others, and to brutally be herself with no apologies.
That often is a prescription for... well, not success.
"I have this friend," she seemed to be consulting me, therapist to therapist, "who was walking into a bad situation. I couldn't just watch him do it. I told him, 'Look, she's not really interested in you. She's going to use you and let you go. She's in a different league than you.' But he wouldn't listen me. So, he got together with her, they went out, and, sure enough, she dumped him. He told me, 'I will never do that again. If you say she's bad news, I'll believe you from now on.'"
"Well, get used to that, " I tried to warn her. "Even this friend may 'do it again' and fall for the wrong girl. Don't put the value of what you know to the test of others... because you'll never be satisfied with the results. Most people need to make mistakes, or find out that they're making mistakes, on their own. No matter how much you warn them, you can't force anyone to harness their emotions. That's a skill you need to be grateful for on your own and pass it along consciously... in a way people can accept. That requires a different concentration to your natural gift for smelling trouble."
She nodded reluctantly. She's really a remarkable girl. She told me she wanted to be a psychologist and talk to families and children... an old goal I once possessed... until someone pointed out the obvious. I would worry constantly. I would take the pain of my patients home and wrestle with it night and day... I wouldn't be able to compartmentalize.
Maybe this child will go on to do what I could not. I think she's a stranger I will miss for a long time... knowing I would have no place in her world. I would be the frustrated counselor wondering why she won't listen to me... that afternoon, I was just a fellow healer... which, coming from a fourteen year old girl, I take as a high compliment.
But, she's on my mind tonight in reference to how we live our language. Do we know what we're saying? Do we mean it when we say, 'How are you?' Do we really want to know if we ask an acquaintance, 'So, how have you been?' Do we have gratitude and kindness for the waitress who asks us bright-eyed and sweetly, 'Can I get you anything else?' Is the phrase 'I love you' a habit, or do we hold it for the times when it's the only phrase that will do?
I'm an advocate for meaningful living. For using the accurate phrases, not falsely honeyed niceties. If I can't say it and mean it, I avoid saying it at all. I've stepped out of several hugs, many 'I love you's, and even more 'Let's do this again sometime's, in order to avoid being fake. Surely, on some days, I'll order my coffee blankly and do the whole HiareyouI'mwelltooThanksforasking thing. But, largely, I try to mean what I say.
I have a friend who has walked away from the typical "Bless you" after a sneeze. In her case, it doesn't mean anything to her. She does not believe in a large, divine benefactor who takes orders at the drop of a bacterial replication in the nostrils of any human being at any time. She has found another phrase to utilize to offer the societal expectation a wish she can genuinely offer.
I try also not to fall into the trap of expectations. That goes for everyone. If I can't offer the typical exchange of phrases, I won't. If I can tell someone expects me to reciprocate a sentiment that I don't in fact feel, I find a way to thank them for theirs and leave myself out of it.
This process is not as stark as it sounds. There's woman I used to work with who says, "I love you," every time she sees me. I always return her feeling, every single time. I can't say that I don't, because, though we don't really spend anytime together, I care about what happens to her, how she's feeling, where she's been or where she'll end up... so I can see that as a form of love. She has no children and sort of sees me as the daughter she might have had. I find no harm in going along with this idea...
My point is I think it's a great thing to learn to think about how we interact with the world and find a way truest to ourselves to live with others. I don't believe in sparing people insincerely. If I had no love for that woman whatever, I'd never say, "I love you, too." I'd say, "You're so sweet," or something else that I felt sincerely. Even with those I consider to be my nearest and dearest, I won't offer sentiments I don't have. Same for one of my friends... I told her once how she seems to be one of the closest people to me, among my friends... she offered another person in my life... I followed her logic and took no offense to the fact that she could not necessarily say the same to me. We have a special friendship, and her honesty never betrays that in my eyes. I require no false place-holding words to comfort me. I prefer the truth.
I hope most of us find that courage. To not expect reciprocation... rather, to expect authenticity... to want our friends and family to be themselves, to be happy being themselves, and to never pressure anyone to feel any differently.
Here's to knowing what we say, never feeling pressured to have feelings other than our own, and to avoid to the best of our ability to expect ourselves out of the mouths of others...
That, in itself, should sound relatively strange. I am not the most approachable person. It's not so much because I seem unfriendly as it probably seems that I'm preoccupied, in my own universe.
But, there I was, walking into a small town coffee shop. The frazzled barista behind the counter hung up the phone and commenced with the appropriate script. "Hi there! How are you?"
I smiled with sympathy. "I'm doing alright. How are you?"
"Good, thanks!" it came through subtly gritted teeth.
"You sure about that? I'm not terribly convinced, " I smiled deliberately.
Her guard broke entirely. She admitted to having had "one of those days" and commented on a boyfriend issue or what not. I had just spent two and a half days in my own head, so I was welcoming to the discussion of the problems of someone else.
"That's pretty impressive," said this youthful voice to my left. I was almost startled by her presence. Beside me with both feet on the seat of her stool, knees up to the chin, a fourteen year old girl studied me. Her long stringy dark hair dangled around mismatched, stitched together patterns under black pants and a dark t-shirt. She looked up sincerely with light brown eyes... a strange color actually. They reminded me of a baby's eyes, still choosing a permanent color.
"What is?" I had to laugh.
"You actually asked a question. You wanted to know how she was doing. Seriously."
"Well, I know most people treat it like a greeting, but I think that's condescending. We're human beings. We come into contact with interesting people everyday and we probably don't know it because we don't actually take the time to find out who they are."
I had a funny, funny feeling talking to her. I couldn't decide if this was the sort of chat I would have with a future daughter... or talking to the younger version of myself. She reminded me so very much of me... thinking she knew better than those around her but wanting desperately two contradictory things: to help others, and to brutally be herself with no apologies.
That often is a prescription for... well, not success.
"I have this friend," she seemed to be consulting me, therapist to therapist, "who was walking into a bad situation. I couldn't just watch him do it. I told him, 'Look, she's not really interested in you. She's going to use you and let you go. She's in a different league than you.' But he wouldn't listen me. So, he got together with her, they went out, and, sure enough, she dumped him. He told me, 'I will never do that again. If you say she's bad news, I'll believe you from now on.'"
"Well, get used to that, " I tried to warn her. "Even this friend may 'do it again' and fall for the wrong girl. Don't put the value of what you know to the test of others... because you'll never be satisfied with the results. Most people need to make mistakes, or find out that they're making mistakes, on their own. No matter how much you warn them, you can't force anyone to harness their emotions. That's a skill you need to be grateful for on your own and pass it along consciously... in a way people can accept. That requires a different concentration to your natural gift for smelling trouble."
She nodded reluctantly. She's really a remarkable girl. She told me she wanted to be a psychologist and talk to families and children... an old goal I once possessed... until someone pointed out the obvious. I would worry constantly. I would take the pain of my patients home and wrestle with it night and day... I wouldn't be able to compartmentalize.
Maybe this child will go on to do what I could not. I think she's a stranger I will miss for a long time... knowing I would have no place in her world. I would be the frustrated counselor wondering why she won't listen to me... that afternoon, I was just a fellow healer... which, coming from a fourteen year old girl, I take as a high compliment.
But, she's on my mind tonight in reference to how we live our language. Do we know what we're saying? Do we mean it when we say, 'How are you?' Do we really want to know if we ask an acquaintance, 'So, how have you been?' Do we have gratitude and kindness for the waitress who asks us bright-eyed and sweetly, 'Can I get you anything else?' Is the phrase 'I love you' a habit, or do we hold it for the times when it's the only phrase that will do?
I'm an advocate for meaningful living. For using the accurate phrases, not falsely honeyed niceties. If I can't say it and mean it, I avoid saying it at all. I've stepped out of several hugs, many 'I love you's, and even more 'Let's do this again sometime's, in order to avoid being fake. Surely, on some days, I'll order my coffee blankly and do the whole HiareyouI'mwelltooThanksforasking thing. But, largely, I try to mean what I say.
I have a friend who has walked away from the typical "Bless you" after a sneeze. In her case, it doesn't mean anything to her. She does not believe in a large, divine benefactor who takes orders at the drop of a bacterial replication in the nostrils of any human being at any time. She has found another phrase to utilize to offer the societal expectation a wish she can genuinely offer.
I try also not to fall into the trap of expectations. That goes for everyone. If I can't offer the typical exchange of phrases, I won't. If I can tell someone expects me to reciprocate a sentiment that I don't in fact feel, I find a way to thank them for theirs and leave myself out of it.
This process is not as stark as it sounds. There's woman I used to work with who says, "I love you," every time she sees me. I always return her feeling, every single time. I can't say that I don't, because, though we don't really spend anytime together, I care about what happens to her, how she's feeling, where she's been or where she'll end up... so I can see that as a form of love. She has no children and sort of sees me as the daughter she might have had. I find no harm in going along with this idea...
My point is I think it's a great thing to learn to think about how we interact with the world and find a way truest to ourselves to live with others. I don't believe in sparing people insincerely. If I had no love for that woman whatever, I'd never say, "I love you, too." I'd say, "You're so sweet," or something else that I felt sincerely. Even with those I consider to be my nearest and dearest, I won't offer sentiments I don't have. Same for one of my friends... I told her once how she seems to be one of the closest people to me, among my friends... she offered another person in my life... I followed her logic and took no offense to the fact that she could not necessarily say the same to me. We have a special friendship, and her honesty never betrays that in my eyes. I require no false place-holding words to comfort me. I prefer the truth.
I hope most of us find that courage. To not expect reciprocation... rather, to expect authenticity... to want our friends and family to be themselves, to be happy being themselves, and to never pressure anyone to feel any differently.
Here's to knowing what we say, never feeling pressured to have feelings other than our own, and to avoid to the best of our ability to expect ourselves out of the mouths of others...
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Thursday Kitchen: Having a haunt
I have very few regular haunts in my town. When I was still living in Newport News, there was a tapas bar I frequented (I met one of my closest friends in that bar... we often shut down the place and lingered for hours afterward just talking). That place is no more... I think it's a pizza joint now. It's actually difficult to have any favorite places around here that are not chain restaurants. Independents come and go like fashion fads in this part of the world.
I find this pretty depressing. Anyone offering a truly unique or quality product around here is subject to the peninsula's short attention span. There used to be an old fashioned soda shop and pharmacy in Port Warwick that has also been forced to close. They made the real deal, too... with an old fashioned soda machine that made lime, lemon, and several other deletable fruit sodas. But, you'll have to settle for the syrupy sweet colas in the fridge at Walgreens or CVS from now on.
So, I try to support my favorite local places in Williamsburg. I know it will take more than just me to keep these businesses from dying out, but I'm determined to do my part. One of these places is called Coco. It serves imported and domestic chocolates... gorgeous, unique little things like lavender pepper (sounds weird, but very special), chili pepper, orange and raspberry, candied violet, 99% dark chocolate bits, Earl Grey tea, honey... and the list goes on and on. Alongside these unique chocolates, Coco serves teas and coffees, wines and spirits, fondue, savory and sweet crepes, quiche, etc. It's great for dessert or for something decadent in the afternoon.
When I was working across the street, I used to take my 15 minute breaks at Coco. It got to the point where they would see me coming from across the street and start on my espresso. They'd bring it to me and ask me what sort of chocolate piece I'd like. I either wanted something specific or ask for a surprise. I'd sit in my corner and write while sipping and nibbling. It was a nice way to get out of the shop and savor some delicious peace.
I still try to go when I think about it. I don't have as many convenient excuses to head that way as I used to... and I drink less coffee than I did then (I'm pretty much a green tea girl in the mornings). We celebrated a friend's birthday there recently and I meet Caro there at random moments to catch up over some wine and chocolate late at night.
Once per week, I make a point to visit The Art Café. Tastefully decorated with local artists' canvases, this place is run by an enthusiastic and witty German lady who has a brilliant European chef on staff. I like this place best for breakfast either on Friday mornings or Saturday after I teach class. They make this wonderful, strong Arabic coffee, and they are one of the few places that tends to have bottled sparkling water (I'm not a fan of still water... I think I've tricked my body into thinking that sparkling water is really soda, so it accepts it). My favorite breakfast special comes with a croissant, two eggs, a small green salad, brie, and toast with jam. It reminds me of my mornings in France as well as coffee with my French friend when she was still in the US.
The chef here is very agreeable. I arranged an event at this place for 6 of my girlfriends... two vegetarians and two with dairy allergies. He made a custom menu for each girl and never raised an eyebrow at my requests. It was a beautiful luncheon and I felt very satisfied with how things turned out... you don't always find that kind of feeling after a catered event. Though the language barrier made our meeting... interesting... he was patient and delivered beyond my expectations.
The chef and the owner are always pleased to see us when we walk in. They bother to remember who we are and what we like. They remember the things we told them the week before and ask how things are going. I feel service like this only exists in either conscientious independent businesses or with the occasional kind server at a chain that sees you more than once per week. I know this is a business tactic... and it still works.
My only other haunt is Food for Thought. It's an odd little place with an interesting idea. It has a literary theme, so the walls are lined with quotes, the cocktails named after authors, the entrees unique and varied (Thai food, American food, vegetarian offerings, etc), and there's a literary trivia card game available to you at some of the tables and at the bar. It's a fun place for dinner and a great place in the afternoon or late evening for a drink with your book or school work.
One of my students is one of the bar tenders there, so, again, it's nice to be recognized. He's still learning my drink (I'm addicted to Manhattans lately), but he greets me and asks how I am in a way that's not angling for a tip. We have a reciprocal exchange in a way... I teach him during the week and on the weekends he's willing to try and make cocktail I might like.
The only other place I've found this sense of familiarity is Floyd, Virginia. They only have about one mile of town where many shops are next to each other. A convenience shop, a bookstore, a coffee joint, a diner, a holistic center (Go figure), an art community center, a health food shop, and, of course, the quintessential small town hardware store. People are friendly, know each other's names, go to each other's churches, etc.
I can see how this sort of life could get tiresome. I went to a private school for one exhaustively obnoxious year. You could not get away from people knowing about every move you make... what boy you like, what boy you really don't like, what grade you received, how you failed in gym, etc. Everyone knows your name and how long you've been attending the school. It was such a nightmare. I begged my mother to send me back to public school... I preferred having a small circle of friends and bumping into some schmo who had no clue who I was at least once a day.
However, at this point in my life, away from home and watching my girlfriends build families and move on, in between the sweating hours of work, it's nice to see a friendly, familiar face... once per week.
I find this pretty depressing. Anyone offering a truly unique or quality product around here is subject to the peninsula's short attention span. There used to be an old fashioned soda shop and pharmacy in Port Warwick that has also been forced to close. They made the real deal, too... with an old fashioned soda machine that made lime, lemon, and several other deletable fruit sodas. But, you'll have to settle for the syrupy sweet colas in the fridge at Walgreens or CVS from now on.
So, I try to support my favorite local places in Williamsburg. I know it will take more than just me to keep these businesses from dying out, but I'm determined to do my part. One of these places is called Coco. It serves imported and domestic chocolates... gorgeous, unique little things like lavender pepper (sounds weird, but very special), chili pepper, orange and raspberry, candied violet, 99% dark chocolate bits, Earl Grey tea, honey... and the list goes on and on. Alongside these unique chocolates, Coco serves teas and coffees, wines and spirits, fondue, savory and sweet crepes, quiche, etc. It's great for dessert or for something decadent in the afternoon.
When I was working across the street, I used to take my 15 minute breaks at Coco. It got to the point where they would see me coming from across the street and start on my espresso. They'd bring it to me and ask me what sort of chocolate piece I'd like. I either wanted something specific or ask for a surprise. I'd sit in my corner and write while sipping and nibbling. It was a nice way to get out of the shop and savor some delicious peace.
I still try to go when I think about it. I don't have as many convenient excuses to head that way as I used to... and I drink less coffee than I did then (I'm pretty much a green tea girl in the mornings). We celebrated a friend's birthday there recently and I meet Caro there at random moments to catch up over some wine and chocolate late at night.
Once per week, I make a point to visit The Art Café. Tastefully decorated with local artists' canvases, this place is run by an enthusiastic and witty German lady who has a brilliant European chef on staff. I like this place best for breakfast either on Friday mornings or Saturday after I teach class. They make this wonderful, strong Arabic coffee, and they are one of the few places that tends to have bottled sparkling water (I'm not a fan of still water... I think I've tricked my body into thinking that sparkling water is really soda, so it accepts it). My favorite breakfast special comes with a croissant, two eggs, a small green salad, brie, and toast with jam. It reminds me of my mornings in France as well as coffee with my French friend when she was still in the US.
The chef here is very agreeable. I arranged an event at this place for 6 of my girlfriends... two vegetarians and two with dairy allergies. He made a custom menu for each girl and never raised an eyebrow at my requests. It was a beautiful luncheon and I felt very satisfied with how things turned out... you don't always find that kind of feeling after a catered event. Though the language barrier made our meeting... interesting... he was patient and delivered beyond my expectations.
The chef and the owner are always pleased to see us when we walk in. They bother to remember who we are and what we like. They remember the things we told them the week before and ask how things are going. I feel service like this only exists in either conscientious independent businesses or with the occasional kind server at a chain that sees you more than once per week. I know this is a business tactic... and it still works.
My only other haunt is Food for Thought. It's an odd little place with an interesting idea. It has a literary theme, so the walls are lined with quotes, the cocktails named after authors, the entrees unique and varied (Thai food, American food, vegetarian offerings, etc), and there's a literary trivia card game available to you at some of the tables and at the bar. It's a fun place for dinner and a great place in the afternoon or late evening for a drink with your book or school work.
One of my students is one of the bar tenders there, so, again, it's nice to be recognized. He's still learning my drink (I'm addicted to Manhattans lately), but he greets me and asks how I am in a way that's not angling for a tip. We have a reciprocal exchange in a way... I teach him during the week and on the weekends he's willing to try and make cocktail I might like.
The only other place I've found this sense of familiarity is Floyd, Virginia. They only have about one mile of town where many shops are next to each other. A convenience shop, a bookstore, a coffee joint, a diner, a holistic center (Go figure), an art community center, a health food shop, and, of course, the quintessential small town hardware store. People are friendly, know each other's names, go to each other's churches, etc.
I can see how this sort of life could get tiresome. I went to a private school for one exhaustively obnoxious year. You could not get away from people knowing about every move you make... what boy you like, what boy you really don't like, what grade you received, how you failed in gym, etc. Everyone knows your name and how long you've been attending the school. It was such a nightmare. I begged my mother to send me back to public school... I preferred having a small circle of friends and bumping into some schmo who had no clue who I was at least once a day.
However, at this point in my life, away from home and watching my girlfriends build families and move on, in between the sweating hours of work, it's nice to see a friendly, familiar face... once per week.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Wednesday Valuables: Sometimes, someone will bother to see what it's like to be you...
Once in a great while, people take the good old adages their mothers gave them seriously. Put yourself in their shoes, I'm sure someone said to you at some point. And it wasn't easy. Maybe it never is. But we ought to try, for the betterment of ourselves and our relationships. Step into their shoes. See what it might feel like to be that person.
Thich Nhat Hanh wrote a moving poem after hearing about the rape of a young girl. The poem illustrates amazing compassion as Hanh imagines himself as all characters in any scenario. The girl, and the rapist. The teacher, and the student. The predator, and the prey. (Call me by my true names). I was so terribly struck by this concept... This ability to step into any person's skin and see the world they way do with their hurts, their disappointments, their joys, and their doubts in mind.
I have been able to see things from another person's point of view, but usually only certainly people. Certain characters, I'm less likely to try to understand. I've been known to say to questions about serial killers and people who molest small children, You know, it might be for the best if we don't understand what these sorts of people are thinking. I don't know if that's my way of protecting my humanity (If you go too far into the cave, especially into the pitch black places, how will you ever get out?) or fear of having to explore such a mind when that exploration might be the key to understanding... which in turn may be the key to turning people to something more constructive... I don't know.
Either way, it takes a special, smart person to try. To look at the questionable behavior of another person and to think why, "Why would this person act this way?" before jumping to conclusions and judgments.
It takes an equally special person to look into you and remind you that they see something that must be more you than most people.
There's a grandmother figure in my life who stepped in my world for a moment to let me know that she see's a big part of what's so Me about me. She's been reading the latest Sue Monk Kidd book that the well-known author wrote with her daughter. Apparently, they are both at transition points in their own lives; the mother is realizing that she's getting older, becoming the dreaded "old person," while the daughter is coming of age and wondering what to do with her life.
While it sounds like a good read, here's the quote that this special person sent to me:
I know that's my goal. Is it something she sees in me though? Is it something I can see in myself?
I know that I know who I am right now and who I hope to become. I know why I fly off the handle. I know why I don't react at all. I know who I love. I know who I wish I loved. I know what I want to do. I know why I don't always have the courage to do it.
I used to hear words like "self-assured" and I would link it to something like "perfection." But, I think I am self-assured, I am painfully self-aware. It's not a matter of perfection but of confident knowledge...
Geneviève is the name that I chose for myself. I was given a name from a couple who didn't know who they were or what they were doing together. Likewise, I felt all my life that I had been given the wrong name for the person I must have really been. A name that didn't fit and never sounded like me. From childhood, I could tell my skin would never fit right over my bones until I found my true name.
This is something my special grandmother knows through trials, not inherent understanding. She earned her knowledge on the subject. She and her family took to my name change the quickest, with the most compassion, and the best celebration. Rather than thinking I was being dramatic or strange or what have you, like many people in my extended family, they treated me as though nothing had happened... for, after all, they knew that I was Geneviève all along, just as I had.
Thank you, M, for seeing and understanding one of the most significant elements of my life.
Of course, Saint Geneviève and I have very little in common... save our natural need to help others in our world and to understand them even when they don't appreciate what was done for them. She did curse the men once for turning their backs on their country, but what passionate woman doesn't lose her head now and again? She healed the sick and was a valued advisor.
May the Genevièves of the world, whatever your names may be, bring something back to those who have loved us.
(from http://everydaysaholiday.files.wordpress.com)
Thich Nhat Hanh wrote a moving poem after hearing about the rape of a young girl. The poem illustrates amazing compassion as Hanh imagines himself as all characters in any scenario. The girl, and the rapist. The teacher, and the student. The predator, and the prey. (Call me by my true names). I was so terribly struck by this concept... This ability to step into any person's skin and see the world they way do with their hurts, their disappointments, their joys, and their doubts in mind.
I have been able to see things from another person's point of view, but usually only certainly people. Certain characters, I'm less likely to try to understand. I've been known to say to questions about serial killers and people who molest small children, You know, it might be for the best if we don't understand what these sorts of people are thinking. I don't know if that's my way of protecting my humanity (If you go too far into the cave, especially into the pitch black places, how will you ever get out?) or fear of having to explore such a mind when that exploration might be the key to understanding... which in turn may be the key to turning people to something more constructive... I don't know.
Either way, it takes a special, smart person to try. To look at the questionable behavior of another person and to think why, "Why would this person act this way?" before jumping to conclusions and judgments.
It takes an equally special person to look into you and remind you that they see something that must be more you than most people.
There's a grandmother figure in my life who stepped in my world for a moment to let me know that she see's a big part of what's so Me about me. She's been reading the latest Sue Monk Kidd book that the well-known author wrote with her daughter. Apparently, they are both at transition points in their own lives; the mother is realizing that she's getting older, becoming the dreaded "old person," while the daughter is coming of age and wondering what to do with her life.
While it sounds like a good read, here's the quote that this special person sent to me:
It sounds musical. I like the name. To me, it suggests a self-assured woman. If I had a name like Geneviève, I would know exactly who I am and what I’m supposed to do. A Geneviève, it seems to me, could paint a self-portrait, would know how to say: this is who I am.
I know that's my goal. Is it something she sees in me though? Is it something I can see in myself?
I know that I know who I am right now and who I hope to become. I know why I fly off the handle. I know why I don't react at all. I know who I love. I know who I wish I loved. I know what I want to do. I know why I don't always have the courage to do it.
I used to hear words like "self-assured" and I would link it to something like "perfection." But, I think I am self-assured, I am painfully self-aware. It's not a matter of perfection but of confident knowledge...
Geneviève is the name that I chose for myself. I was given a name from a couple who didn't know who they were or what they were doing together. Likewise, I felt all my life that I had been given the wrong name for the person I must have really been. A name that didn't fit and never sounded like me. From childhood, I could tell my skin would never fit right over my bones until I found my true name.
This is something my special grandmother knows through trials, not inherent understanding. She earned her knowledge on the subject. She and her family took to my name change the quickest, with the most compassion, and the best celebration. Rather than thinking I was being dramatic or strange or what have you, like many people in my extended family, they treated me as though nothing had happened... for, after all, they knew that I was Geneviève all along, just as I had.
Thank you, M, for seeing and understanding one of the most significant elements of my life.
Of course, Saint Geneviève and I have very little in common... save our natural need to help others in our world and to understand them even when they don't appreciate what was done for them. She did curse the men once for turning their backs on their country, but what passionate woman doesn't lose her head now and again? She healed the sick and was a valued advisor.
May the Genevièves of the world, whatever your names may be, bring something back to those who have loved us.
(from http://everydaysaholiday.files.wordpress.com) Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Tuesday Favorites: Why I read ELLE Magazine
The way my schedule lays out, Tuesdays and Fridays are my days off. One of those Tuesdays or Fridays a month, I'll have the time to sleep in, have some coffee, and read my new ELLE Magazine. This was one of those glorious Tuesdays.
Fortunately, I also receive Body+Soul and Saveur, so, I wasn't sitting in my bliss for only 20 minutes. I do flip through the whole ELLE issue... just in case I'll be surprised with interesting new books or relevant articles. But, most often, the only thing worth reading is E. Jean's advice column. Her writing is probably the reason I bothered to renew my subscription.
(from elle.com)
I used to think I was qualified to write an advice column. After all, that's mostly what I do. I give advice almost all the time. I am willing to believe I have a few acquaintances only because I'm a reliable sounding board. This actually doesn't bother me... which led me to believe I have what it takes...
...but every time I read E. Jean's column, I realize how wrong I am.
What I'll do is read the question. I consider what I think of the problem. Then I wonder how a person who would ask this question would react to my opinion. At that point, one has to consider how to package a response that would lead this specific personality in the right direction. I piece together what I might generally prescribe.
And then I read E. Jean's response... and she's just so smooth, smart, and clever...
Well, maybe I should take it easy on myself. After all, we're talking about a former Miss Indiana University who failed her only journalism class and snapped back with a fruitful career. She was a cheerleader and the daughter of an inventor father and a politician mother with less than stellar SAT scores. Still, she's been writing for ELLE since 1993 and her column has been ranked in the top five best magazine columns. She's got a feisty, determined head start on me.
I was particularly fond of this month's column. Two of her strongest talents rang through: Her ability to answer your question and elegantly tell you off at the same time and her gift for finding solutions to problems way outside of her field.
A young woman wrote her to ask how to auction off her virginity. Aside from the fact that her original plan was to find a "sugar daddy" to wine, dine, and dress her, this "improved" version of her plan degrades her entirely for the sake of paying off loans and pursue her interests. Instead of telling her this though, which I might have done, she told her how to accomplish this goal. However, she did it in such a way that if you have at least two brain cells to rub together and make a spark, you can see that she's not recommending this solution.
You can read the whole article here: BAD SALE
She also gave advice to a woman with a work issue. She's unhappy with her job and, in times like these, she knows that she's lucky to have a job at all. But, what she really wants to do is find a way to offer a sort of equestrian therapy for children with emotional and physical disabilities. E. Jean is so resourceful... I would have thrown out a letter like this one with no clue what to tell this horse-loving humanitarian. E. Jean comes to the rescue with experts (an SBA associate administrator who knows of loan program that would fit her purposes), research (which shows that those who seek management and technical assistance make their business pursuits work out better in the long run), and words of encouragement to help this woman get started (Now just might be the time to start a dream business). With her biting honesty, E. Jean manages to have compassion... no matter how many stupid requests or questions she must get that never make it to the magazine.
(from shoppingblog.com)
I won't say that I've never read another clever or well-written article in ELLE Magazine, but E. Jean is the most consistently interesting writer working for this publication. I've saved a few back issues because there were good articles I wanted to keep... I wish I could find the few on parenting actually for some of the new mothers in my world. The quality of those sorts of articles has basically disappeared in the last three years. I mostly use it for my envelopes for mailing letters (I've been making my own envelopes from magazine paper since I was about 13).
Parabola and Body+Soul are my favorite magazines for content... but E. Jean certainly remains among my favorite short-distance writers.
Fortunately, I also receive Body+Soul and Saveur, so, I wasn't sitting in my bliss for only 20 minutes. I do flip through the whole ELLE issue... just in case I'll be surprised with interesting new books or relevant articles. But, most often, the only thing worth reading is E. Jean's advice column. Her writing is probably the reason I bothered to renew my subscription.
(from elle.com)...but every time I read E. Jean's column, I realize how wrong I am.
What I'll do is read the question. I consider what I think of the problem. Then I wonder how a person who would ask this question would react to my opinion. At that point, one has to consider how to package a response that would lead this specific personality in the right direction. I piece together what I might generally prescribe.
And then I read E. Jean's response... and she's just so smooth, smart, and clever...
Well, maybe I should take it easy on myself. After all, we're talking about a former Miss Indiana University who failed her only journalism class and snapped back with a fruitful career. She was a cheerleader and the daughter of an inventor father and a politician mother with less than stellar SAT scores. Still, she's been writing for ELLE since 1993 and her column has been ranked in the top five best magazine columns. She's got a feisty, determined head start on me.
I was particularly fond of this month's column. Two of her strongest talents rang through: Her ability to answer your question and elegantly tell you off at the same time and her gift for finding solutions to problems way outside of her field.
A young woman wrote her to ask how to auction off her virginity. Aside from the fact that her original plan was to find a "sugar daddy" to wine, dine, and dress her, this "improved" version of her plan degrades her entirely for the sake of paying off loans and pursue her interests. Instead of telling her this though, which I might have done, she told her how to accomplish this goal. However, she did it in such a way that if you have at least two brain cells to rub together and make a spark, you can see that she's not recommending this solution.
You can read the whole article here: BAD SALE
She also gave advice to a woman with a work issue. She's unhappy with her job and, in times like these, she knows that she's lucky to have a job at all. But, what she really wants to do is find a way to offer a sort of equestrian therapy for children with emotional and physical disabilities. E. Jean is so resourceful... I would have thrown out a letter like this one with no clue what to tell this horse-loving humanitarian. E. Jean comes to the rescue with experts (an SBA associate administrator who knows of loan program that would fit her purposes), research (which shows that those who seek management and technical assistance make their business pursuits work out better in the long run), and words of encouragement to help this woman get started (Now just might be the time to start a dream business). With her biting honesty, E. Jean manages to have compassion... no matter how many stupid requests or questions she must get that never make it to the magazine.
(from shoppingblog.com)Parabola and Body+Soul are my favorite magazines for content... but E. Jean certainly remains among my favorite short-distance writers.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Monday Review: My 100th entry and Looking at Entertainment
Within this experiment of writing daily, this will be my 100th blog entry!
To mark the occasion, like a good girl, I've redecorated and I'm modifying one day's theme. For Tuesdays, I think I'm getting hung up on the word "hobby" when trying to find a topic. Unless someone has a suggestion for me, I'm going to simply refer to Tuesdays as Favorites. I'll discuss any of my best liked topics (people in history, music, events, books, etc.) I might seek out new titles for some of the other days as well, so, this week will be an experiment of its own!
Thanks to all who read this collection... it keeps me accountable and focused. I appreciate you.
So, onto my thoughts on entertainment... namely, what we watch on TV.
This topic occurred to me because we were watching An American in Paris starring the irreplaceable Gene Kelly this evening. Last week, it was Swing Time starring Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. It also dawned on me that my most typical "winding down" activity is to put The Dean Martin Show on.
Now, you might be thinking I need to get a life... I'm still living in the 40s through the 60s. But I like it there, because of the actual talent that stars used to exhibit to be on screen. Gene Kelly looks like he's exerting no effort whatever as he gracefully taps at a dizzying pace. Dean Martin invites a number of excellent singers, dancers, and comedians to dazzle you on his show. I've decided that Ginger Rogers is one of the scariest women who ever lived... because she looks like she's floating, like those toes aren't even touching the floor, when she dances.
Today... well? I don't even know what's on TV because I was so unimpressed with what was available that I decided to cancel our cable altogether. The only shows that are still on regularly that I would want to see are the occasional Discovery Channel documentaries or History Channel specials... maybe some Food Network shows. These are all programs I can find either online or through Netflix.
I hear people talking about reality TV more than anything else. I have a big issue with this whole concept, because once you put a camera in the room, it's no longer reality. I don't care who you are, most of us will alter our behavior if we know we're being recorded. The last accurate reality show that I can think of is Candid Camera. Yes, these people were set up. Someone is in the know. But, you're probably witnessing the closest example to a genuine reaction in the unsuspecting victim possible.
What I dislike most is what passes off for humor now. There's a show I think was called Street Smarts where they picked three random people off the street, ask them simple questions, and video tape the decline of the general American I.Q. I also watched one episode of Top Chef since a relative strongly recommended it. While I do enjoy the idea of cooking competition (I'm actually a huge fan of Iron Chef... Tristan and I used to watch the Japanese version on Food Network over the phone in high school), I'm pretty unimpressed with the general package. People are so rude, unnecessarily cruel when cutting cooks from teams, etc. I hear people giggling at the tears, insults, and failures.
Now, I realize we're hardwired to laugh at pain... and to a point, I'm okay with that. I see it as a way to help subdue physical discomfort. For instance, in Richmond, when I fell down a flight of steep wooden stairs landing flat on my behind at the bottom, I howled with laughter as I crawled under the downstairs door and into the kitchen. It's not that funny, but it helps with the embarrassment (four people in the house came running towards me) and even relieves the sting. So, obviously, Larry, Curly, and Moe delighted us on a natural, sympathetic, human level. But I don't find emotional anguish terribly amusing. You could... if you enjoy the view from your high horse and all... but your mother would ask you as a child, and I ask you now, how it would make you feel if someone laughed at your humiliation and best effort? While I can see that some idiots and their overreactions can be funny, should they be?
Once, scripts had to be clever. Situations had to be ironic. People had to just be authentic. I always enjoyed Bill Cosby's stand-up because he gets it: The truth is funny. He would take all the petty annoyances of life (parenting, the dentist, childhood bullies, etc) and just remind you of what you must have been thinking in various, common situations. Oscar Wilde was all the rage because he gave the audience most of the details and we watched the unwitting characters stumble through misconceptions and poor assumptions. Frasier is one of my favorite shows because it's just so well written... it's just clever.
I know we shouldn't always have to think to have a good laugh... but do we lose all compassion for humanity for a cheap chuckle? I just think it's disappointing and shallow.
I'm also convinced that most of our entertainers today are hired because they're trainable and look good on camera. I realize that the 40s-60s are not innocent on this point. I love Marilyn Monroe, but the poor woman was strenuously trained... she didn't have any genuine talent in single cell in her body. She's just devastatingly beautiful and a quick, determined study. Still, while being good looking helps your case (Gene Kelly is awfully handsome), so many screen stars used to have to have something behind their pretty faces (Can any of our popular movie stars dance like Gene Kelly?).
There are certainly still some talented actors currently taking up space on the big screen. I'm a fan of Adrian Brody (despite his arrogance), Gary Oldman (because he's amazingly versatile), Christian Bale (C'mon... Laurie's come a pretty far distance), Kate Winslet (she's done a wide range of good work), Jodie Foster (I think she's a genius), and Annabella Sciorra (She's just so real). Whatever your tastes, these people aren't exactly ugly. But could you put all of them in a variety show?
What happened to the variety show anyway? Performers that had more than one trick in the hat? Dean was a great singer, but he could also move, and he could wing it in a comedy sketch better than anyone. Nicole Kidman has taken a less-than-inspiring stab at musicals alongside Ewan McGregor (You know, now that I think about it, I think I'd definitely give McGregor a variety show of his own). So, even if there are a few multi-talented people left, what is the country actually paying to watch? Impressive performances or un-engaging, badly written drivel in which people are embarrassed or injured?
I guess my opinion on current entertainment seems pretty negative... but, even as I write this, I'm playing Mythbusters in the background. There are a few cheap laughs, and I won't lie... I definitely laugh along with them. But, what am I actually watching here? A group of people working as a team to ask questions and find some scientific proof in their answers. Has anyone ever tried to tell you, if you were the sort to wince as a dog licked your hand, that a canine's mouth is cleaner than you own? Mythbusters test topics like that (okay, okay... and the kind of myths that end in a big boom... which is also pretty entertaining. At least when things go wrong, this team laughs together and tries again.
That's enough out of me. Sports and news aside, what do you think about today's TV programming?
To mark the occasion, like a good girl, I've redecorated and I'm modifying one day's theme. For Tuesdays, I think I'm getting hung up on the word "hobby" when trying to find a topic. Unless someone has a suggestion for me, I'm going to simply refer to Tuesdays as Favorites. I'll discuss any of my best liked topics (people in history, music, events, books, etc.) I might seek out new titles for some of the other days as well, so, this week will be an experiment of its own!
Thanks to all who read this collection... it keeps me accountable and focused. I appreciate you.
So, onto my thoughts on entertainment... namely, what we watch on TV.
This topic occurred to me because we were watching An American in Paris starring the irreplaceable Gene Kelly this evening. Last week, it was Swing Time starring Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. It also dawned on me that my most typical "winding down" activity is to put The Dean Martin Show on.
Now, you might be thinking I need to get a life... I'm still living in the 40s through the 60s. But I like it there, because of the actual talent that stars used to exhibit to be on screen. Gene Kelly looks like he's exerting no effort whatever as he gracefully taps at a dizzying pace. Dean Martin invites a number of excellent singers, dancers, and comedians to dazzle you on his show. I've decided that Ginger Rogers is one of the scariest women who ever lived... because she looks like she's floating, like those toes aren't even touching the floor, when she dances.
Today... well? I don't even know what's on TV because I was so unimpressed with what was available that I decided to cancel our cable altogether. The only shows that are still on regularly that I would want to see are the occasional Discovery Channel documentaries or History Channel specials... maybe some Food Network shows. These are all programs I can find either online or through Netflix.
I hear people talking about reality TV more than anything else. I have a big issue with this whole concept, because once you put a camera in the room, it's no longer reality. I don't care who you are, most of us will alter our behavior if we know we're being recorded. The last accurate reality show that I can think of is Candid Camera. Yes, these people were set up. Someone is in the know. But, you're probably witnessing the closest example to a genuine reaction in the unsuspecting victim possible.
What I dislike most is what passes off for humor now. There's a show I think was called Street Smarts where they picked three random people off the street, ask them simple questions, and video tape the decline of the general American I.Q. I also watched one episode of Top Chef since a relative strongly recommended it. While I do enjoy the idea of cooking competition (I'm actually a huge fan of Iron Chef... Tristan and I used to watch the Japanese version on Food Network over the phone in high school), I'm pretty unimpressed with the general package. People are so rude, unnecessarily cruel when cutting cooks from teams, etc. I hear people giggling at the tears, insults, and failures.
Now, I realize we're hardwired to laugh at pain... and to a point, I'm okay with that. I see it as a way to help subdue physical discomfort. For instance, in Richmond, when I fell down a flight of steep wooden stairs landing flat on my behind at the bottom, I howled with laughter as I crawled under the downstairs door and into the kitchen. It's not that funny, but it helps with the embarrassment (four people in the house came running towards me) and even relieves the sting. So, obviously, Larry, Curly, and Moe delighted us on a natural, sympathetic, human level. But I don't find emotional anguish terribly amusing. You could... if you enjoy the view from your high horse and all... but your mother would ask you as a child, and I ask you now, how it would make you feel if someone laughed at your humiliation and best effort? While I can see that some idiots and their overreactions can be funny, should they be?
Once, scripts had to be clever. Situations had to be ironic. People had to just be authentic. I always enjoyed Bill Cosby's stand-up because he gets it: The truth is funny. He would take all the petty annoyances of life (parenting, the dentist, childhood bullies, etc) and just remind you of what you must have been thinking in various, common situations. Oscar Wilde was all the rage because he gave the audience most of the details and we watched the unwitting characters stumble through misconceptions and poor assumptions. Frasier is one of my favorite shows because it's just so well written... it's just clever.
I know we shouldn't always have to think to have a good laugh... but do we lose all compassion for humanity for a cheap chuckle? I just think it's disappointing and shallow.
I'm also convinced that most of our entertainers today are hired because they're trainable and look good on camera. I realize that the 40s-60s are not innocent on this point. I love Marilyn Monroe, but the poor woman was strenuously trained... she didn't have any genuine talent in single cell in her body. She's just devastatingly beautiful and a quick, determined study. Still, while being good looking helps your case (Gene Kelly is awfully handsome), so many screen stars used to have to have something behind their pretty faces (Can any of our popular movie stars dance like Gene Kelly?).
There are certainly still some talented actors currently taking up space on the big screen. I'm a fan of Adrian Brody (despite his arrogance), Gary Oldman (because he's amazingly versatile), Christian Bale (C'mon... Laurie's come a pretty far distance), Kate Winslet (she's done a wide range of good work), Jodie Foster (I think she's a genius), and Annabella Sciorra (She's just so real). Whatever your tastes, these people aren't exactly ugly. But could you put all of them in a variety show?
What happened to the variety show anyway? Performers that had more than one trick in the hat? Dean was a great singer, but he could also move, and he could wing it in a comedy sketch better than anyone. Nicole Kidman has taken a less-than-inspiring stab at musicals alongside Ewan McGregor (You know, now that I think about it, I think I'd definitely give McGregor a variety show of his own). So, even if there are a few multi-talented people left, what is the country actually paying to watch? Impressive performances or un-engaging, badly written drivel in which people are embarrassed or injured?
I guess my opinion on current entertainment seems pretty negative... but, even as I write this, I'm playing Mythbusters in the background. There are a few cheap laughs, and I won't lie... I definitely laugh along with them. But, what am I actually watching here? A group of people working as a team to ask questions and find some scientific proof in their answers. Has anyone ever tried to tell you, if you were the sort to wince as a dog licked your hand, that a canine's mouth is cleaner than you own? Mythbusters test topics like that (okay, okay... and the kind of myths that end in a big boom... which is also pretty entertaining. At least when things go wrong, this team laughs together and tries again.
That's enough out of me. Sports and news aside, what do you think about today's TV programming?
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sunday Reflections: It's like Indiana Jones watching the big ball coming down the hall...
(from www.timbeaux.com)It's like that moment in that Indiana Jones movie. All this effort, all the struggle to get to the chamber, and now this big rock is after him!
I'm piecing together about 12 significant events in the life of Howard Thurman. Never heard of him? Me, neither. And now I see why. Even though he ran with the big boys like Gandhi and MLK, the resources on his life are few and oddly organized. I haven't been able to find a single linear biographical writing on him whatsoever. I broke down and asked for his autobiography from the library... which hasn't been helping very much. He jumps around a lot to whatever is relevant to a line of thought.
So, I can't see the end of this... just the big ball bearing down on me. It's laughable really. It's not like I haven't been here before. Up late working on an assignment during a week when you could hardly catch a breath... and I'm just taking one class! I wonder how I did this when I was working at the bookstore and taking five classes? No, really. How did I do this then?
Obviously I'm not going to rant tonight with all this work hanging over my head... but, surely some of you have had as busy a week if not busier than mine. I'm thinking of taking the Thurman approach to this stress. He had a special oak tree as a child that he would shelter under for comfort from the trials of youth in the early 1900s. He has several writings on the nurturing power of nature, the healing stillness of plants and animals. I've also recently read a meditation where you imagine yourself in some calming atmosphere, along the beach, in the mountains, in the forest, what have you.
So, if you're also freaking out under the threat of impending doom, close your eyes, breathe, and take yourself to that peaceful place in your mind. You deserve at least five minutes of peace. Take it.
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