Sidewalk Chalk & Thomas Edison

This evening I attended a pig roast at the college where I work. Some of the kids in attendance were playing / drawing with sidewalk chalk. I was amazed at the creativity of those young ones! They drew some very cool stuff.

Alas, I have not got an artistic bone in my body. So I watched them work with a certain degree of pensive longing. I've often wished I could muster some sort of creative outlet, but most attempts I've made have been dismal and sad, so I stopped. Yet, watching those kids at work, it occurred to me that they were not the least bit concerned over whether their pictures were "good enough" for any standards other than the joy it brought them to create.

It made me want to re-think what things I will try or not try. Granted, I will never have the talent or skill of Julian Beaver, but that doesn't mean I couldn't have fun exploring the process.

Years ago I did some substitute teaching in an elementary school for a while. When I taught the first and second graders, if I asked a question like "who likes to draw?" or "who enjoys singing?" nearly every hand in the room shot up. They all wanted to make a picture for me or sing their favorite ditty - so eager and full of promise. But when I taught the fifth graders or eighth graders, responses to questions like that were far more scattered and timid. By that point kids had already begun to define themselves in terms of their deficiencies, saying "no way, I really suck at that!"

All too often we list what we lack instead of savoring our strengths...and we learn to move away from those areas where we have a few failures.

I am reminded of Thomas Edison...when he
was trying to find just the right material to use for the filament in light bulbs he had many, MANY failures. After literally dozens of tries without success some people encouraged him to quit and move on to something else. Instead, Edison stated: "Results! Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results. I know several thousand things that won't work." Another great Edison quote is: "Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up."

Things I have started and not finished are MANY: learning to draw, to play the piano, to speak Spanish, to Waltz, to sew. I HATE feeling incompetent so when I've tried something for a while with minimal success I tend to move back to my cushy comfort zone of the things I am good at. MASTERY is one of the most reinforcing feelings I know. But looking at that, I see what a limiting pattern that is. How can I learn or grow unless I learn to tolerate my own bumbling feeble attempts at new things?

Maybe its time for me to rethink some of my standards and expectations for myself. Not every art project has to be the Cistine chapel. Not every song has to rival Erna Sack.

Yeah, that sounds great. Yet even as I try to muster up the courage to begin again with art, with music, with dance, or any number of other areas I've tried before and had less than stellar results, I feel my gut turn to water with embarrassment at looking like a fool. I inwardly cringe and want to creep back to my cage of the few things where I feel certain and safe. How do I interrupt that pattern and get the gumption to establish a new paradigm for myself? I don't really know.

It SOUNDS very reasonalbe to say "even though I may not ever be great any any of these things I can have a great experience learning to express myself along the way." But in practice, I balk time and time again. The emotions that come with being the last kid picked for every school team, the wallflower left standing alone at the dance, the pathetic wretch whose attempts to create inevitably turn out to be mediocrity in the extreme....these are such a powerful impedement to trying again.

How to jump that hurdle? I don't know yet. But I aim to keep looking. I want to learn how to grap on to just a touch more of that Edison tenacity. I want to learn how to let go of the fear of "getting it wrong" or looking like a fool and be willing to give myself a chance to try as many times and in as many ways as it may take. Maybe the place to start is with a bit of sidewalk chalk.

Movie Quotes

I was reading an interesting article about the power of movie quotes. The article listed the following as the top rated movie quotes, listing them by citation frequency. I found it kind of interesting.


1. "I'll be back" (1984 - Terminator)

2. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn" (1939, Gone With the Wind)

3. "Show me the money" (1996, Jerry Maguire)

4. "Go ahead, make my day" (1983, Sudden Impact)

5. "Mama always said life is like a box of chocolates." (1994, Forres Gump)

6. "You can't handle the truth!" (1992, A Few Good Men)

7. "Hasta la vista, baby" (1991, Terminator 2)

8. "May the force be with you" (1997, Star Wars)

9. "There's no place like home" (1939, The Wizard of Oz)

10. "Yeah, Baby." (1998, Austin Powers Films)

11. "Here's looking at you, kid." (1942, Casablanca)

There were some others...but you get the idea.

What makes a quote powerful or enduring? How do certain phrases resonate in our lives?

Words have power. I believe that the words we use and the words we choose to hold in our hearts and in our minds really can shape our experience and our perceptions.

I have a little jute covered notepad I picked up in Costa Rica years ago that I use for writing down favorite quotes. Some come from books I have read, some from speakers or workshops I attended, some just snatches of conversations I overheard on a bus. I love language and am continually amazed by the ways we use it both to hide and reveal our souls.

Do you have any quotes that are particularly meaningful to you? I'd love to hear 'em.

Oh, what a puzzle!

Just got back from an afternoon of cache searching. Rather than head towards Walla Walla for the rest of the clues for Goblet of Fire, I went looking for some multi-cache puzzles over by Pendleton. I really enjoy the challenge of these sorts of hides.

Example - here are directions for one of the ones I did:

Step 1: To start, go to the opening location, sit on the bench, and take in what is being presented. You will need to use the only year located on one of the seals or emblems found above the State of Oregon.

Let the year be represented as “ABCD”
If you add 3139 to the year, you will get “EFGH”. (ABCD + 3139 = EFGH)

To get to stage 2 of this cache, use the letters from above and go to (N) CE° CF.CAF (W) AAG° CH.DDB
-------------------------------------------------------
Step 2: Locate the date when the first State of Oregon police officer was killed on duty. This date could be written as mm/dd/yyyy. You will use these numbers and the following clues to create a word which is the final location of the cache. This location is within 100 feet of the plaque honoring this officer.

Use the day of the month and add to it the number of horse thieves in the gunfight killing the first police officer in the State of Oregon. Use the letter in the alphabet that corresponds to this number (for instance A corresponds with 1 because it is the 1st letter in the alphabet). This letter is the 1st, 3rd, and 4th letter in the word.

Divide the number of horse thieves in half. Use the letter in the alphabet that corresponds to this number (for instance A corresponds with 1 because it is the 1st letter in the alphabet). This letter is the 2nd letter in the word.

Multiply the month by 5. Use the letter in the alphabet that corresponds to this number (for instance A corresponds with 1 because it is the 1st letter in the alphabet). This letter is the 5th letter in the word.
-------------------------------------------------------
Step 3: Figure out the word, find the word, and find the cache.

Took some doing - especially since the YEAR at Step 1 was in Roman Numberals, which I was a little rusty on, but fortunately my husband knows enough HISTORY to place the appropriate decade and I could decipher the last part.

Some people like crossword puzzles. I like geocache puzzles. We also found a couple standards - and got stumped on another that appears to have gone missing. But at least we were out spending time together, getting some nice exercise and learned a little bit about the history of this region we did not know before.

Gotta love it!

In Search of the Goblet of Fire

I have now logged sixteen finds of various geocache since getting my GPS a little less than a month ago. Some have been very simple. Some have been rather tricky. But now I am up for a more serious challenge. I am in search of the Goblet of Fire.

There is a teacher in Milton Freewater who is an avid geocacher. He has set up a multi-cache challenge that will involve covering many miles for a Harry Potter inspired series of finds which lead up to the final destination called “The Goblet of Fire.” He has placed quite a few cache at various places around the valley. One of his took me three tries to find, so I know better than to assume this will be easy. After all, one of the tag lines from the Goblet of Fire movie is:
"Difficult times lie ahead, Harry."

To find the Goblet of Fire, I must first find four different cache sites that will each give me a coordinate clue.

The four caches that hold the clues are: The Whomping Willow, The Forbidden Forest,
The Chamber of Secrets, and The Herd of Hippogriff.


The four sets of coordinates which I find in these other sites will be the four corners of a big X. The center point of the X is where the Goblet of Fire is.

The description of this cache site says:

“The coordinates listed for this mystery cache are the coordinates for a lookout that is within a mile of The Goblet of Fire. The final cache is rated a 4/4 for good reason. Come prepared with heavy boots, long pants, some drinking water, and a bit of time on your hands. …

This would be an excellent cache to bring your dog on. There is a manmade watering hole less than 500 feet from the cache (it looks like a lean-to). Your dog can run, dig, and be free while you trod along looking for this cache.

If you record all of the clues correctly, the center of the "X" is the exact location of the cache. The final cache is a five gallon ammo container well camoflauged. It is stocked with some very desireable items, but the true treasure is being selected by The Goblet of Fire.”

Judging by the comments logged by other players who have found it (and a few who tried but failed) I’ve got a serious challenge on my hands. Apparently the final hike in will take about an hour and is over some challenging terrain. Also, finding the darn thing isn’t easy. But it sounds doable if I use my head, plan carefully and figure out how to do the routing.

I found two of the four waypoints today. I’m hoping to get the other two picked up on Monday. Then it is on to the main challenge to find the Goblet of Fire. Wish me luck!

This geocaching thing really can be addicting. I’m having a blast with it.

Just the facts...

I'm home again...glad to be back in my own humble abode.

Been doing some writing about a few different things that cut a bit too close to the heart for public display. But once again I can rely on the usual suspects to open up a new topic to turn over in my head here.

Ponderpig brought up the issue of theories and facts and Leo further expanded...

I can't help but wish I had those two guys here sippin' tea (or whatever they prefer) and available to explore these ideas further. I have so many things I'd ask...

I think the whole notion of TRUTH seems so elusive we gorge ourselves on facts as a poor man's substitute.

Joe Friday of Dragnet fame, was always so intent on methodically getting to the facts. The updated version is CSI where we watch the amazing world of forensics "PROVE" who did or did not commit a crime.

FACTS-- what are they ? What is their relationship to truth?

I've been thoroughly schooled in scientific method of establishing a hypothesis, testing it, and then basing conclusion of what the facts are on the evidence that appears.

I have been trained to think in an empirical, linear fashion, basing my convictions on proven evidence.

But all the graduate school mountain of probability and statistics or advanced research methods classes gave no room for things I know as truth that I have no solid evidence for.

My heart rages with passion and faith and curiosity that have nothing to do with proof and evidence.

In most cases I think we puny humans (not so sure about talking pigs) are deleting machines, manipulating the haphazard, contradictory stuff of life to confirm whatever it is we've already decided to believe. We START with a belief or an assumption, opinion or prejudice; Then we either discount, contradict or just plain fail to notice any evidence to the contrary of what we hold to be true. That's our deletion machine in action. Whatever signs or events would confirm our previous assumptions we underline and capitalize and print out in big bold letters as PROOF we were right all along. We feel so justified, vindicated, validated by our "facts."

I think most people are uncomfortable with ambiguity. "Facts" comfort with a tangible sense of weightiness and authority.

But the problem with "facts" is they are like the definitions in a dictionary. A dictionary is not any sort of definitive record of the CORRECT meaning of words. All a dictionary actually provides is a HISTORICAL RECORD of how words were used in a given language at a given time. Language is a living, fluid thing that changes. Words shift, those slippery devils. So new dictionaries have words used in different ways from old dictionaries. BOTH are considered correct for the time they were in use.

I have an old chemistry book which states that ATOMS are the smallest matter in existence in the universe. Uh, sorry - what about protons and electrons? Oh yeah, we didn't get THOSE puppies until we had electron microscopes to measure them.

Then again, one of the interesting things about quantum physics is the discovery that the very act of observing and measuring some phenomena (such as particles and waves) can alter them. So does looking change the facts?

Then there is also the whole issue of who or what is a credible source for facts? Years ago I dated a guy who was a news director at a rock 'n' roll radio station and he taught me to be rather skepical of what I heard or saw in media and for any who feel like taking the time to bother with the download the movie clip on that last hot link would certainly support that...

It's late and I'm tired. So I'm off to bed. But I think there is more here to chew on... perhaps another day.

Mud Pies and macaroni

I'm in Michigan for several days spending some time with the grandkids. Just as I was ready to go stark raving mad after beeing cooped in the house with several days of rain, the sun finally came out. So we took the kids on a grand adventure hiking through the woods. We found some great trails and were able to talk about amazing fungi and bugs and other things we saw along the way. Looking at the world through a child's eyes is a great way to recapture awe and wonder. Of course, everything was pretty wet still from all the recent rains, so everyone came out looking like mud pies. So it was back to the house for marathon showers and then a feast of macaroni and cheese. It takes so little to keep these little ones happy. Now if I just had a laundry fairy all would be right with the world.

Magic Ju Ju Beans

For the past several months, I have been experimenting with homeopathic remedies.

Not one willing to take traditional sedatives, I was hoping to find something that would address my raging insomnia. Learning about Homeopathy has been an interesting journey. My RATIONAL mind scoffs at any possibility that this stuff could work. It defies all logic. But my EXPERIENCE tells me there is something to it.

However, homeopathy is more an art than a science. The remedy selected must be just the right match, fitting the individual like a key in a lock. I've tried three different things that clearly did not work. Each time I was ready to just quit, determine the whole thing to be a bunch of nonsense and move on in my usual sleep deprived way.

But the particular practioner I have been working with has been doing an incredible job of listening well, paying attention to what worked and what didn't, and trying with all diligence to find just the right match. He's somehow managed to have just the right blend of expressing confidence in the process without discounting my reservations. He's been respectful of my need to understand what I'm getting into and patient with my balking and suspicious mistrust. Little by little the guy has genuinely earned my respect. So, after very nearly throwing in the towel, I've begun a new remedy recently and this one SEEMS like we might finally have made a good fit.

The sense of well being I am finding goes far beyond being rested. This is no "happy pill." Yet there is no question in my mind that I am feeling calmer, more balanced, more at home in my own skin.

I've gone through so many phases with this stuff... from outright skeptism to guarded willful suspension of disbelief to wishful hope. I'm still not entirely convinced. But I'm exploring, trying to stay open to the possibility that not everything has to be rational and logical to be real.

The whole premise of homeopathy still rather baffles me. But I'm quite certain that there is much truth in this world I do not comprehend. This might be one of them. It may just be some mysterious thing that has real power to heal.

Comment Moderation Now ON

I never had any intention of turning on the "comment moderation." I am a supporter of open dialogue and liked the immediacy of having comments appear as soon as they were posted. Alas, some commercial spam has begun to appear. That simply will not do. So I've turned on the moderation. I have no desire to screen out any legitimate comment,whether I agree with it or not. But I will not tolerate salespeople trying to shlep their wares on my blog. I apologize for any inconvenience this is to my blogger pals...but I am confidant you will understand. As most of you know, I'm online FREQUENTLY, so as soon as I get the e-mail notice you've made a comment I'll go right in and pass it through to appear...should be minimal delay. So keep them comments coming and now I can relax without worrying about those pesky sales things.

Contemplating Evil

There is badness in the world.

Chris N., aka the Pondering Pig, has been commenting on the depravity of the human race.

Matthew, AKA "Mr. H" over at Its Later Than You Think has shared some thoughts about mental illness.

Then, over at Apprentice Human the following questions were asked: At what point do we think of someone as "sorta quirky" and when do they cross the line into "mental illness"? To what degree should "bad behavior" or criminal acts be excused due to a diagnosed mental illness?

I remember seeing a rabid dog when I was a kid. A neighbor brought out his hunting rifle and shot it point blank. Everyone was relieved. Was it the dog's FAULT that he was behaving in such a menacing fashion? Nope. Clearly, the poor pooch was sick. But the dog was also a serious threat. It needed to be put down.

Somehow though, when dealing with human beings, the answers do not seem so clear cut. What is the appropriate response when someone is discovered to be manufacturing, selling or even owning/viewing child pornography? Worse yet, what should be done for those who act on their twisted fantasies by physically/sexually harming little kids?

Clearly, the problem is rampant, not limited to a few isolated cases. Depravity and sickness seem to be spreading exponentially throughout our society. What can we do to stop it? How can we keep the ones we love safe?

I know scriptures council us to "love the sinner but hate the sin." Perhaps some can pull that off. Not me. I say the way the rabid dog went down was a mercy for the dog as well as for those who might have been bitten.

But knowing what I know about the inequities in the implementation of capital punishment and all the many flaws of our justice system, I'm not entirely comfortable suggesting we designate child rape as a capital crime.

How one is supposed to live a sane life in this insane world is a mystery. We are each confronted with evil in some fashion or another along the path. The degree to which we are willing to stand up against it, in my mind, is a measure of our souls.

But moving away from loose philosophical concepts over into the realm of daily living life in the midst of depravity is a complicated thing.

I certainly don't have the answers.

Why I love Geocaching

Someone I know recently asked me to explain why I enjoy geocaching. (He had never heard of the game and was curious what it was all about.)

There are a lot of reasons - but for me, it has five key elements:

1) It gets me outdoors - usually in peaceful, pretty places. Sure, there are plenty of "in town" sites, but I choose the ones that take me by rivers or out to cool overlooks. I like being connected with nature.

2) It gives me exercise. I sit in front of a computer most of the day. Both my work and my main free time activities (reading/writing) are physically passive. They keep my brain active, but my body needs to move. Hunting for geocache is a great way to get me up and stretching, pumping more oxygen, and that's a good thing.

3) It gives me something fun to focus on. I've been told at times I put the A in Type A, being a rather driven sort of girl. While I don't necessarily agree with that assessment, I will admit I can get very caught up in work or task lists at home, being very focused on what I need to do. When I am geocache hunting, I put all that aside and focus entirely on the puzzle of the hunt. It is a time when I allow myself to completely relax and immerse myself in the adventure.

4) It appeals to my techie side. I love technology and seeing how to adapt different tools to use in new ways. I have a pretty cool GPS receiver that I am still learning all the features of. I like the sense of mastery I get as I develop expertise in using it to full capacity. However, it does not REQUIRE technology know how....that's just a fun sidebar for me. Even for someone who is more of a Luddite it is a very doable diversion. A LOT of families take their kids on geocache adventures.

5) It satisfies some of my craving for community. The people who play geocache "talk" to each other via websites and e-mail. After doing it a while, you get to where you "know" who hides the really tricky ones, who does the fun ones, what sort of things to expect. We compare notes about what we've been looking for lately and any particularly fun finds. So, not unlike what I've found in blogging, I've begun to build up some cyber-relationships that amuse me. We e-mail each other back and forth to discuss various elements of the game and read each other's comments on the logs.

Those are my main reasons....

A few others:

It also appeals to my sense of social responsibility. I practice CITO, which stands for Cache In, Trash Out - I almost always take a garbage sack with me and pick up any litter I find on the trails where ever I go. I like knowing that the place is left better because I passed by.

It appeals to my sense of adventure. Some of the hunts are very straightforward. You get a set of coordinates and then just need to find a way to get there and look around for whatever is hidden. Others are more complex. Some require some math calculation, some solving a riddle, or others are multi-phase scavenger hunt with each "find" giving you coordinates and/or clues to the next piece, culminating in the main cache. It's a grown up version of an Easter egg hunt with all the fun "ah HAH!" when you find it.

It connects well with my love of travel. There are geocache hidden all over the world. There are geocache sites hidden in small towns and in major cities. They are in every state in the union and most countries throughout the world. There are even geocache hidden in ANTARTICA. It's fun to look at the maps and think of places where I'd like to go someday to do some searches.

One of the biggest things I like about it is that it is an activity that can appeal to ALL ages. I have eight grandkids ranging from age 6 to 18. There are very few family activities that everyone will enjoy. Do you know a teenager who sincerely wants to play Candyland or a six year old who loves the mall? You get my point. It's just plain hard to involve our whole family in any other kind of activity because there are so many with such diverse abilities and interests. But every time we go to Michigan to spend time with the brood we have our traditional family geochache hunt. It's something they ALL look forward to and all enjoy.

All in all, it's a harmless diversion. It's a cheap date for when my love of my life and I want to spend time together, and a fun way to get to learn about the world. It's a cool game.

If you haven't been geocaching, those of us who play the game call you a "muggle".
Who wants that? Come join the magic. You'll be glad you did.

Geocaching again

I had a hellish day at work yesterday. I came home feeling tired, discouraged, frustrated and overwhelmed.
I was tempted to just sit in the soup of my misery and "endure the miserableness" as Becket would put it. But instead I chose to get my butt up off the couch of woe and go do something to interrupt the pattern.

First I took the dog out for a hike - drove a few miles to where my favorite blackberry patch is to check the status of the berries. They were not quite ripe, so dog and I just walked for a mile or so to work the kinks from the day out.

When I got back home the gloom I'd left behind seemed to still be lurking, as if it had waited for me. So instead of trying to wrestle with the dozen and one "responsible" things I might have done, I just grabbed my trusty GPSr and headed back out. It was really too late in the evening for a geocache hunt. The sun was setting low with only a very short window of light left. But I figured it was worth a try. I got to the coordinates of a cache hide in Milton Freewater and then proceeded to scramble around the rocks to see if I could find the ammo box of goodies that was hidden there.

The sun slipped down as I climbed towards the river. I looked in many a nook and cranny as best as I could and all through the cracks and crevices. However, I never did turn up the cache I sought. I got a little disappointed and frustrated that I could not find the geocache I was hunting for. I had the EXACT coordinates and looked all over the place on either side and just had no luck. Then, to make matters worse, as I was crossing the rocks I slipped and just about went ass over teakettle. But somehow I managed to right myself and get back up the hills not too worse for wear.

It finally occurred to me that it really didn't matter that I did not find the geocache. Doing the SEARCH had gotten me out of the house, showed me a new place that I'd never been, and gave me a specific purpose to focus on for a bit. It took my mind off my worries from the day and got me some exercise. That's treasure enough for me.

I plan to go back when I have more daylight so I can find the silly thing. But I'm learning that this is far more about the journey than the destination. It feels good to get out an about, even if only for half an hour, to play the game.

So the hunt is on... I'll keep looking and eventually may hide a cache or two of my own.

Today I will go back to work and "endure the miserableness" of a particularly tedious project that is not turning out as I had hoped. I will sit through interminable meetings and struggle with the pathological politics of the unhealthy family that are my co-workers. I'll get through another difficult day. One of the things that will make it manageable is knowing my GPSr and new coordinates will be waiting for me when I get back home.

East, West and Inbetween

I've been cruising through some different blogs I like to read and came up with a question for myself.

Over on the Pondering Pig's blog are some nice shots his lady love took at Pisimo Beach, CA. Then, a meandering to Foghorn Leghorn's spot shows scenes from a Florida beach.

I've spent some time on both coasts and had very different experiences. I'm wondering whether the difference had more to do with who I was with, what I was doing and what stage my life was at at the time or if it was due to inherent differences in the two locations.

I have lived in the Southwest, the Midwest, and am now in the Pacific Northwest. I have found along the way that the whole world is NOT like my back yard...there are distinct differences in the ways people approach each other and life in general based on regional flavor. Yet, at the same time, I've found that people are people where ever I go - we all love, we laugh, we cry, we worry and pretty much do what we can do make our way in this crazy world.

One of the reasons I hate most malls is because they tend to LACK regional flavor. They export the same-old, same-old homogeneous commercial America that always leaves me feeling annoyed and anxious. I far prefer to seek out little downtown enclaves or pockets of mom-and-pop stores that may offer up some surprises. The selection and the service at these out of the way spots is not always GOOD, mind you, but at least they are original!

I guess I still miss the old days when my little town in the Verde Valley of Arizona had "Verde Lee Dairy" where we bought our milk in glass bottles, a butcher shop where we got our meat, a green-grocer for vegies and fruits, and a hardware store that was not a chain outfit. There was a shoe repair shop (IMAGINE! FIXING shoes rather than throwing them away when they started to come apart) Lillian's cafe, an old saloon, a clock shop and a feed store. We got to know the proprietors at each place, so doing business held much more sense of community back then than the fluorescent efficiency of supermarkets can offer.

So now days, when I travel, I love looking for little shops or restaurants that I have no idea what to expect when I walk into. Sometimes they are lousy or overpriced. Sometimes they are GEMS! (Like the Clam Chowder I had the Firehouse just south of Heceta Lighthouse or the Pizza at someplace north of Seaside) I remember some dynamite red beans and rice and great blues in New Orleans before the Katrina floods turned that part of town into a war zone. I had a fantastic sandwich and listened to some jazz just outside of Denali park in Alaska and some pretty fine Indian food in Salt Lake City...

HMMM what's with all this food reverie? I must be hungry. Time to go grab a snack.

Geocache delight

Original plans had been for my husband and I to head out to Joseph, OR for the blues festival today. But after a LONG, stressful week at work, compounded by some personal stuff going on, I just wasn't up for the trip. So instead we decided we'd make our own good time at some local venues. We slept in a bit (ok, so HE slept...I was awake but resting) and then sorta puttered around the house a bit. Then we headed out to find a couple geocache that were hidden along the Walla Walla river - one up beyond Harris Park and the other at at Marie Dorian park above Milton Freewater. It was a fabulous day for a hike. We did some CITO (Cache In, Trash Out) at the first place - felt good to be able to clean up the trail head and leave it looking natural instead of like a party dump. The hike was a bit strenuous, lots of rocks and fallen trees to climb over and some stickery weeds to navigate. But we ran into a wonderful blackberry patch full of juicy ripe berries and ate till we were sticky and purple. The cache in both places were fairly easy finds...the hikes were more the focus of the day than any impressive orienteering. We saw all sorts of wild flowers, birds, butterflies, and small watersnake. We had a picnic next to the river and played kissy face in a secluded spot in the trees. Found a stone chimney out in the middle of nowhere that made me oh so curious about who had built it and when. Had there been a cabin there? I played out in my mind all sorts of scenarios of who might have lived there and what had become of the place. Later we came home to be lazy, eat watermelon, listen to music and just veg for a while. Now I'm sorta getting my second wind and am about to go do some work in the yard and play fetch with the dog for a while. So, all in all, in the words of a young friend of mine, it was truly a "Lovely Day!"

Cosmetics

The things we do or don't do in order to enhance our appearance rather fascinates me.
I do not pluck my eyebrows. I do shave my legs and pits. I do not normally wear make up. But I do put it on for hot dates and job interviews. I've been told I look attractive with make up. Every now and then I'll surprise myself (and most the people who know me) by doing it in the middle of the week for no particular reason just because I feel like it. Hey, even an old barn looks better with a fresh coat of paint, eh? Normally, however, I just don't bother. Using the word "style" when referring to my hair is a bit of a stretch. This hair has not seen a blow dryer or curling iron except for family weddings where I bent to peer pressure to glam up a bit for all the photographs that would be taken. I do, however, color my hair and probably will continue to do so for many years. I like me better with hair that is not streaked with grey. Vanity? ABSOLUTELY! But this is one area I have no intention of changing any time soon. I feel frumpy and unattractive when my hair is dull and shot through with grey. I feel more attractive when it is a radiant auburn, and even more so when I get highlights painted in. I KNOW the time and money and amount of attention I spend on this is absurd. I KNOW that I am conforming to lots of advertising and marketing skams that have trained me to believe I am less attractive in my natural state. So be it. I want "pretty hair." So sue me if that seems shallow and superficial.

I'm trying to figure out where I draw the line between vanity and taking pride in one's appearance. Are they the same, with one just being more extreme or are they inherently different? I'm also curious about why and how our culture decides some features are "beautiful" while other features are "ugly". What makes someone look attractive to me is when they get that kind of smile that goes all the way to their eyes and they appear open to possibility. What I find ugly is the haughty expression of condescending scorn. But whether a person's nose is big or eyes are spaced a certain distance.... how does it serve anyone to name that as "pretty" or "plain"?

I can think of certain specific times I very much FELT "pretty". They were not based on clothes or make up or hair. I can think of other times I have felt horribly ugly. On the outside, I doubt there was much difference. But on the inside, the affective experience was in extreme contrast.

What is beauty? How do I experience it? How do I express it? How much does it make sense to try to look good? When I am out and about in the world, what features or styles do I praise and what do I criticize?

These are just some of the thoughts I came up with after reading RC's comments on Beauty and our Critical Culture.

How's your REM?

I've spent some time exploring a website by a group called the DREAMS foundation, with the word DREAMS being an anachronism for Dream Research and Experimental Approaches to the Mechanisms of Sleep.

Anyone who knows me well knows I have struggled with insomnia for many years. I've had several people tell me there is a sleep lab in a town nearby where I could go get evaluated and possibly helped, but I have been extremely reluctant to do so. In the first place, I just don't like going to doctors for any reason. In the second place, I'm not willing to define my insomnia as being "something wrong with me" that needs treatment. I prefer to merely view it as a characteristic, like the fact that I have blue eyes or long toes. I notice it. I don't have to name it bad or wrong.

When my body gets tired enough, it WILL eventually sleep. Granted, sometimes I go through cycles of several days on minimal rest. But I cope.

Lately, however, I've been thinking more about the different states that my mind experiences. I've been comparing how I notice, perceive and interpret things when I am well rested to when I am very tired, or when I am just about to fall asleep, or when I am first waking up. Why is it that sometimes I am quiet and reflective, other times I am brash and bold, or other times other ways? How much does my sleep cycle have to do with that?

I find it interesting that I can sleep straight through a major thunder storm but I am awake instantly if a baby in the next room simply coughs. But then, on closer examination, only CERTAIN baby's sounds trigger that instant attention. Guests with babies who I feel so particular responsibility for are far less likely to wake me up, even with loud crying that those babies who are flesh of my flesh. How does my mind know the difference?

Then there is the whole world of dreams and what they mean. My dreams are some wild equation, part memory, part symbolic metaphor, part longing, part mystery. I remember them for a brief, fluid time when first waking up and then they disappear.
There is actually an International Association for the Study of Dreams which has been holding conferences for twenty four years now where serious academic papers are presented on the topic.

I'm not one to give too much credence to my dreams. At one point I kept a dream journal, writing down key aspects of my dreams when I first woke up. I have not done that in quite some time.

I have a hard enough time figuring out what my waking life means, I'll leave the dream world analysis to someone else!

Love is a Verb

I began with trying to write a comment of response to Spoke's latest post, but realized I was going on way to long so decided I'd move my thoughts here...

When I consider the main message behind the beatitudes, I keep coming back to the commandment to LOVE. I used to think that love was a feeling. But I've come to have a different view as I've gotten older. In my view, LOVE is a verb - it is something I DO, not some intangible thing that I feel. Emotions are chemical storms in my brain built of hormones triggered by thoughts and sensory experiences. But I believe love is far bigger than that. I may or may not feel attraction. I may or may not feel comfort and nurturing. I may or may not feel all sorts of things that we've come to associate as "love". But what I DO, how I BEHAVE, is how I love.

I used to think it was hypocrisy, insincerity, some sort of lie if I behaved in a way different from my "true feelings." But these days I believe many of those feelings are simply mortal passions to be overcome. If my desire is to know love, then I need to act in a loving way, whether I feel like it or not.

Sometimes I do not feel the presence of God or anything even close to it. But if I can continue to BEHAVE in a worshipful, honoring way that is love. Sometimes I don't feel positive toward the people I encounter. But if I can BEHAVE in a kind, respectful, nurturing manner that is love. Sometimes I don't feel the will to respect my planet - my emotions may run rampant with greed and longing for self indulgence. But if I can ACT in ways to be a wise steward...that is love.

There is so very much I do not know and cannot understand. I am not wise.

But I am willing to listen and to learn.

So when I read stuff like Spoke's Beatitudes posting, rather than jump up to justify my position, my opinions, my ideas, my interpretations I try to go quiet inside and ask...how does this fit for me?

How might I be more willing to be present to God's will instead of my own agenda?
How might I shift my focus of what my treasure is?
How might I guide my all too often stubborn, spiteful, too proud spirit to soften to a broken, contrite heart?

What does it mean to surrender?

I may not have the answers, but I keep returning to the questions, and I suppose that's a start.

New Toy on the Way

I've spent more time than I care to admit looking at all the pros and cons of different GPS units. I just ordered a Magellan eXplorist 400 with the Wilderness bundle. It has a 32 MB SD memory card and MapSend Topo 3D software, so it should do the trick.

Hopefully it will ship promptly - it is coming via priority mail. I plan to go up to Joseph, OR with my sweetie this upcoming weekend for the Blues Festival and it would be fun to hunt for some cache up that way while we are there. If our new toy does not arrive in time, we'll probably just take the work one again. Either way, I'll be looking on the net to find some coordinates to see what we want to go hunt. Should be fun!

At church today I was talking with a friend about my newfound hobby. I came up with the following analogy:

In order to be successful at the game of Geocache, you must begin with having accurate coordinates. Likewise in life, we need to know where it is we are trying to get to. Our material culture bombards us with messages saying the way to be "successful" is to have a big fancy house, social position, use the right shampoo and toothpaste and go to the right parties, etc etc etc and then we will be happy.

But Jesus Christ taught us to come unto Him. He is the way, the truth and the light. Christ taught us that the most important law of all laws is to love the Lord with all my might, mind and strength and then, following that, to love my neighbor. So THIS has to be my focus. I must start by having my spirit firmly committed to the right coordinates.

Next, I need to use the correct readings on a GPS to find my way to where I want to end up. When I went out yesterday I was using a GPS for the first time, and it was a borrowed unit I was completely unfamiliar with. Therefore, I did not understand at first that there are different settings. The coordinates I had for the caches I was trying to find were in degrees. But my GPS was showing minutes. I got very confused by that, and because I was watching the wrong sort of numbers I initially went the wrong way, taking me AWAY from instead of toward my goal.

Likewise - the world gives us different sorts of readouts enticing us to follow them. It is all to easy to get caught up in the drive for material success, popularity, or equally superficial pathways. But if I follow the RIGHT voice (the still small voice of the Holy Spirit) only then can I be guided to the true coordinates that will lead me to a meaningful relationship with my Savior.

I need to rely on prayer and quiet pondering to train myself to recognize the promptings of the spirit to know if I am getting closer to or further away from the presence of God.

Then, when I found the cache, I could focus on "What's here for me?" or I could choose to focus on "What can I contribute here?" If I focus on what's in it for me, I'm likely to be disappointed, because the point of the game is the discovery, not the value of the prizes inside. Likewise, when I go to church I can choose to look for how others are going to meet my needs or I can look for opportunities for me to lift others up and to serve. Rather than worry about whether someone else came over to say hello or if the message was well presented, I can make sure that I go out of my way to greet others, especially newcomers or visitors, and to focus my attention and prayers on whoever is talking from the pulpit asking God to help that person to say the things the Lord would have said and also asking that members of the congregation will be able to understand it and apply it to their lives. I will get a lot more out of the meetings if I go with an open heart wanting to contribute than if I am expecting a pay off.

When I put goodies into the two boxes yesterday I had no way to know who would find them. Still, it felt good to know that someone might be pleased to find what I had had left behind. Likewise, when I share my testimony, give prayers, live my Christian life I have no way of knowing whose life may be touched by my actions. But I just trust that in the Family of Jesus Christ we are all edified as we lift one another - I have faith that God can use me as a means of bringing other people to know the Gospel and it really doesn't matter when or who or how. I just trust and have faith.

Maybe this is a bit of a reach to apply Geocache to Christianity, but it works for me!!

FOUND IT!

I just got home from my first geocache hunt. It was a blast! We borrowed the GPS from my husband's work to see if we would even like this before laying out the cash for one of our own. So, I had the challenge of working with a device I was TOTALLY unfamiliar with. In the beginning we had the settings wrong which got us confused and headed in the wrong direction entirely. Found a neat, windy road and saw some deer, but went several miles away from where we were supposed to be. We FINALLY figured out what we were doing wrong and reset the readout on the GPS and then things started to get interesting.

The first find was a multi cache - the coordinates I had led us to a small can that was well hidden. Inside that were the coordinates to the REAL cache. I had walked right by it, completely oblivious, while my husband was trying to get a fix on the satellites. Once we got the GPS working and knew where to look we were able to find it with a bit of diligent looking.

Then we went on to a second site that was just a few miles away...lovely spot I'd never seen before. Enjoyed the peaceful setting and had fun finding the cache.
I had been warned by others that this game could be somewhat addicting - I am beginning to understand why. It got us out of the house to do some exploring - gave us some exercise and had a sense of curiosity challenge as we worked together to solve the puzzle of finding the treasures. What a great date! Afterward we went for Mexican food and talked about what areas we'd like to search next. Yep, I'm hooked. Now I'm ready to return the work GPS and get my own. I can see me very much enjoying this diversion.

Split Pants & Pamper Ethics.

Ever since reading Spoke's footprint post about recycling I've been thinking more on the ethics of Pampers. Disposable diapers are certainly convenient. But what is their impact to the environment? It's one thing to use them while on the road or out and about running errands. But most moms I know whose kids are not yet potty trained don't even OWN any cloth diapers...or if they do they use them only as "burp rags." I know that babies are far less likely to get diaper rash when using disposables. I know that disposables save on using water and pouring phosphate detergent into the drain systems. But I can't seem to get past the image of all those thousands upon thousands of Pampers and Huggies in land fills.

While I'm not one to advocate the Split Pants method used for years in China, it seems like there must be a manageable way to deal with baby poop with less impact on both the pocket book of struggling parents and the ever growing garbage heaps of the world. Am I missing something here?

However, I don't mean to be pointing fingers here. Granted, I used cloth diapers when my children were young. But I have PLENTY of room for improvement. When I took the footprint quiz Spoke linked to the results said that we would need nine planets worth of resources if everyone lived like I do. OUCH! that was a bit of a wake up call.

So how can I effect meaningful change?

I know I live in a house bigger than I need, but I don't plan to move any time soon. I CAN be more diligent about use of water/electricity. Probably the single most useful thing I could do would be to eat less meat. I go back and forth on that one. Intellectually I really do understand the impact on the planet of a grain based diet vs. meat fare. However, I've yet to get past my carnivorous ways.

I've been thinking quite a bit about which sacrifices I could make or changes in how I use resources that might help....something as basic as continually refilling one water jug from my filtered water pitcher instead of going through multiple bottles of Evian is something I've been committed to for years. But I am trying now to identify other areas where I am remiss in what I use and what I throw away.

I've often thought that if all of us had to personally burn or bury our trash instead of having it magically scooped away each week by garbage collectors we might be a lot more conscious, and therefore more careful about what we are so quick to throw away.

I'm Rich!!!

This morning I was reading the latest posting over at Pondering Pig. All the poking fun about an investment scheme to purchase James Dean's trousers has been a delight! Still, it caused me to do some serious thinking on the whole western view of "I want to be rich!" I am often troubled by the things people are willing to do, willing to compromise, willing to sacrifice in order to chase that dream.

Sadly, I've seen people destroy their relationships, their health and so much more in their frantic quest to "be successful" in worldly terms. I've known a few soul weary folks who managed to amass great wealth and recognized only too late they missed the boat in areas that were truly important.

I am not someone who eschews abundance. I do not think there is anything immoral about having a comfortable life. It is quite possible to have wealth and to stay connected to people, to planet, to spirit, to all that is good. Unfortunately, those that manage to pull this off seem to be more the exception than the rule.

In my mind, being "successful" is NOT so much about how many shiny things someone has...but how he or she VIEWS whatever they do have. It's about the relationship between the indivudal and how they fit with others and with the material world. I've seen rich people be miserably dissatisfied because there was always someone else with bigger yaht or better sports car. I've seen people in poverty share the only food they had with someone who had less. I've also seen people with plenty humbly accept that blessing and be willing to share it, while some people out on the fringe have turned bitter and stingy because they resented always being among the "have nots". There is no nobelness in poverty nor crime in wealth. In my mind, there is simply a great need for ALL of us, no matter where we fit on the economic spectrum, to be less greedy, more grateful, more willing to share.

As for me, I am rich. I certainly do not mean that in the piles of shiny things and money in the bank version. But in every way that counts to me, I am blessed far beyond what I ever expected or felt I deserved.

I have a comfortable home. It's not fancy. But its quite cozy and pleasant, and above all is a place where I feel safe and loved. It is my sanctuary from the storms of the world. To me, that's better than a palace.

I am strong and healthy. I have the usual assortment of bumps and strains that come from being closer to 50 than to 40. But my bladder, lungs and other organs all seem to be working cooperatively. I am able to hike and dance and work and play in a body that serves me well. For that I am truly grateful.

I am madly, passionately, crazy in love with a human being who has all the right stuff: integrity, kindness, humor and who happens to love me back. We have just the right balance of intimacy and autonomy between us. We have a delicious blending of me-you-us that brings us both joy. That is a treasure indeed.

I am engaged in meaningful work that I am proud of, that I'm good at, and that I can see is making a modest difference for good.

So yeah, I'd say I am rich. I have my share of problems and areas that I wish were different. There are things I cannot afford that I wish that I had. But in all the ways that matter, I'd say I am very rich. It shames me to see that I have not been nearly as mindful of or grateful for these blessings as I rightly should have been.

So while it is true I cannot afford to buy James Dean's pants, and I live on a budget that some might consider restrictive, I see that all my needs and a great many of my wants are well met.

I appreciate the Ponderer for helping me take time to notice that, to appreciate it, and to acknowlege my gratitude to my creator.

I will still wonder all sorts of things.... like how can I morally own eight pairs of shoes when I know there are people with no shoes?

What is my responsibility as a sojourner on this planet for how much resources I use up? Spoke's footprint post definitely caused some rumination in that direction.

WHICH fancy things do I justify having for my creature comforts and which do I turn away from as excessive, extravagant over consumption?

What is my relationship to material things?

All worthy things to sort out, I believe. But for today, I will simply revel in the knowledge that in all the ways that count...I truly am rich.

Purt Near

Well, after sending off that last post I noticed a misspelling and was going to go back in and fix it...but what the heck. I'll leave it this time.

I am reminded of a passage from the book "Mother of Pearl" by Melinda Haynes. The father in the story had built a house that was somewhat unlevel because he did the whole thing simply by estimating on sight: "It was two inches lower than the rest of the house with a slight lean toward the back because he believed more in 'eyeballin" a thing than proper measuring. Being Methodist he thought a house 'truly plumbed' was an abomination in the eyes of God."

When his daughter questioned him about this he said: "Perfection's for God, Luvenia. The rest of us got to get along with 'purt'near.'"

I think it is important to have high standards in whatever we take on. But I'm learning to let go of my old rigid expectations of perfection and mastery in all that I do. I've had prolonged periods of being immobilized in my desire to write, to draw, to do many things because each flaw or error was an anathema to me. "Getting it Wrong" was not an option - not to be tolerated - a crime beyond words. Too often in the past I allowed my fear of failure and intolerance for shabby results to stop me from trying things I wanted to do.

I don't want to play that game anymore.

I still think it's good to strive for excellence. But I'm also learning to be more gentle with myself. I have a framed picture in my office that says: "Use whatever talents you possess. The woods would be a very silent place if only those birds who sang the very best were allowed to sing."

What I write may not be very elegant or profound or even grammatically correct in places. But I'm finding my voice, and for me that has value.

In many areas of my life these days I'm trying to take more risks and be more willing to fall on my face, to experiment with things that I am not assured of a shining outcome. If I limit myself to only doing those things I know I can do well I will never learn anything new. It's high time I gave myself the chance to muck up a few things and enjoy the PROCESS as much as the final results.

Marshmallows & Delayed Gratification

I recently did a posting about Locus of Control, pondering the issue of whether or not the tendency to take personal responsibility for one's own mood and actions could be a learned skill set or if the degree to which some people tend to blame (or credit) external forces were an innate personality trait.

In a related vein, I'm considering the whole issue of delaying gratification... Some people seem to be very good at this and others are not. What makes the difference?

The old '70s marshmallow experiments clearly show that the ability to delay gratification in early childhood is closely linked to personal success later on in life from getting through school to staying off drugs or out of jail.

It's all well and good to OBSERVE and MEASURE gratification delay. But how do we TEACH it? I think that is the far more important issue.

Also, to what extent is "waiting for later" a good thing and when does it produce a diminishing return? I think that to some extent being able to delay gratification is an important life skill. Yet I also suspect it can be carried too far. There are some overly self controlled people who seemingly spend their entire lives "saving for a rainy day" but never give themselves permission to cut loose and enjoy NOW.

Sometimes I want dessert before dinner. Sometimes I want dessert FOR dinner.

And I think that's fine. The trick is not to get carried away with it.

How much do I expect to be able to embrace joy in THIS life and how much do I accept the idea that this fallen, mortal world is a time of testing and adversity, with the real joy juice coming in the hereafter?

How much bad or boring stuff will I endure now if I am convinced of a payoff down the road?

How about you? Any thoughts?

Literacy

I was enjoying looking at some of Leo's amazing images over at Away With Words and also did some exploring on você é o que você ouve.

I love the pictures, the owl in particular. But I kept getting frustrated by the fact that I couldn't understand what the words said since I neither speak nor read Spanish. Several times I've been determined to learn the language, but alas all the tape programs and community center classes I've attempted have been to no avail since I seldom have an opportunity to actually use it, so I've not managed to develop any mastery. I can cuss and count, ask where the bathroom is and how to get to a hotel, but that's about it. (When I was 15 I had a boyfriend who told me he would teach me to swear in Spanish and kiss in French so I would be multi-lingual...did a pretty good job of both, but that's another topic entirely.)

As I was kicking myself yet again for not developing the fluency I long for, it occurred to me as I strained over each word that THIS is what illiteracy must feel like: to look at printed words, hungering to decipher their meaning, struggling to infer some context from the pictures and the little bit I could figure out - but ultimately feeling lost, confused, frustrated, and ashamed by my ignorance.

I've read plenty of statistics about illiteracy before and been concerned about the issue, but FEELING what it must be like to be unable to read really knocked me in my gut.

I've been an omnivorousous reader since I was a very small child. As years went on, whenever the chaos of my crazy homelife got to be too much (which was often), I'd grab a good book and head for the tops of the giant mulberry tree in our backyard where I could get lost for hours in books like Misty Of Chincoteague, biographies of Madame Currie and Jonas Salk, and my very first forays into the amazing world of science fiction.

Books were my best friends and my salvation in what seemed to be a very fractured, frightening world. To NOT be able to read would be worse than amputation, in my mind. It would be losing a part of me that is so integral to my being that I would become unrecognizable to myself.

When I was 22 I read the Thornbirds. In that book there is a scene where the main character gets headlice and must deal with it. ICK! But a couple years later when my young toddler son came home from daycare with headlice, the only thing that got me throught the disgust and sense of shame about "my baby having bugs" was to recall that passage from that book.

At other times other books gave me courage to meet other challenges. They also amused me, informed me, inspired me and more.

Reading opened up windows to the world for me, introducing me to people, place, ideas, information and concepts that I otherwise never would have known in my small repressive town.

I am so deeply grateful for the opportunities for education that I have had, recognizing that in much of the world girls and women are not considered worthy of learning.

And I may just give another crack at trying to learn Spanish. It's a beautiful language and would definitely be helpful for some of the travel I'm planning to do.

So thanks, Leo, for the spark of inspiration. And keep up taking those great shots!

Power of Words

I’ve been thinking some about the power of words.

I've long been familiar with the sapir whorf hypothesis - the notion that our language has a potent role in shaping the way we perceive things. But lately I am considering more about how the words I choose may reflect biases I wasn't even aware that I had.

I remember in graduate school I had a psych professor who wanted answers to questions on tests be written in EXACTLY a certain way or he would take off points, even if his students made clear they fully grasped the underlying principle. I thought this was stupid, relying too much on memorization and reguritation of words by rote repetition rather than demonstrating complex conceptual understanding that can be demonstrated in an effective paraphrase. But I have reconsidered that position many times over in the ensuing years. I now see some degree of merit in his claim: “precision in speech and writing reflects clarity of thinking. Sloppy expression is a sign of cloudy thinking.” It wasn't just that he wanted us to use HIS words. He wanted us to name and describe things exactly in a certain way, using our words as scalpel rather than sledgehammers.

More and more I am noticing ways in which words both reflect and shape the way we perceive.

Over on a post by Mr. H he writes of “babysitting” his newborn son. I chafe at that. There is no doubt in my mind that Mr. H is a loving and devoted father who is truly committed to his family. However, in my mind “babysitting” is by definition temporarily taking care of a child who is primarily someone else’s responsibility. When a mother or a father cares for their own child, I think of that as PARENTING, not babysitting. Mr. H. believes I am merely quibbling over semantics here. But I don’t think so.

In discussing the cause of the latest bloody conflict in the middle east we hear reports of two men “kidnapped” by Hezbollah. But when the other side “captures” people considered by them to be dangerous, that same word is not used. I am in no way excusing or justifying what Hezbollah did or continues to do. I am just pointing out that whether someone is a rebel or a freedom fighter, a terrorist or a patriot can often rest less in the actual actions carried out and more in point of view of what side you happen to be on.

In the immigration debate, does it matter whether I refer to the person who overstayed their visa or crossed the border illegally as an illegal immigrant, an undocumented worker or an alien?

Then, Katie, over at Joyously Becoming, brought up the whole issue of things like the phrase "Man and wife" (as opposed to husband and wife). Does one infer dominance and submission more than the other?

There are all sorts of "traditional phrases" laced throughout our culture that seem to be laden with inference of who gets respect and who does not.

So I am trying to pay more attention to my words and how I use them. I am listening to myself a bit more closely and clarifying other's messages more often before I automatically interpret and react to them. Perception is a subtle thing that can turn quickly before I've even caught myself in the process. I am trying to be more mindful of my intent and more aware of how I may be distorting both the things I mean to say and what I hear from others by the power I give or don't give to words.

Why They Call it Lunacy

I've been thinking some on the way bodies and minds and ocean currents are influenced by the phase of the moon. From tides to menstrual cycles to cycles of psychotic breaks, much of the flow of this world in somehow connected with lunar patterns. Why is that? From almanac listings of best days to plant to days or nights when fish are biting, the craterous rock in orbit around us seems to have an awful lot of say in our affairs. How might things be different if we had two or three moons instead of just one solitary rock? Can a moon have moons of it's own? If that were the case with us, would earth be the "grandplanet" (like grandparent) to the moons of our moon? How would earth be different if our moon were bigger or smaller than it is? I see several ways our moon effects us. How does earth shape conditions on the rock? Are we in symbiosis? Or just happenstance?

Why do I care? (yep, you can tell when I hit day 3 or day 4 in my insomnia cycle...the old grey matter starts drifting any ole which way.)

If Flannery Had a Blog

Many thanks to Pappa Herman for pointing me in the direction of "If Flannery Had a Blog"... a collection of quotes by and about that great southern writer, Flannery O'Conner.

Years ago I read some short stories that really impressed me. Perhaps it's time for me to dig in to her longer works.

Geocatching Adventures

Well, I still have not made up my mind on WHICH GPS unit to purchase, but I've been doing lots of homework into the whole world of geocaching. I found some good info over at Adventures in Geocaching. I'm hoping to do some exploring this weekend. My sister suggests that I try some basic orinteering/navigating with old school tech - MAPS, using the cache coordinates posted on the net and see how that goes before I lay out hundreds of dollars for a toy I may sedom use. Makes sense to me. So I plan to strap on my hiking boots and see what I can see. Should be fun!

Fried Possum Legs & Rattlesnake Soup

I found an interesting site called the "Roadkill Cafe" that gives a menu for all sorts of found-on-the-asphalt delicacies, as well as some interesting gift items. What made this all the more intriguing for me was that when I tracked the URL back to its point of origin it appears to be a student project from Tarleton State University, which is part of the Texas A & M University system.

I did some creative things when I was a student, but this is certainly a new spin...

Shopping for a GPS Unit

I've been looking around in stores and on the internet for a decent GPS unit. There are all together TOO many choices! I want to do a bit of Geocaching, but I was thinking I might get a higher end unit that could double as a car navigational unit with verbal turn by turn directions. After a little preliminary homework, and an assessment of the bank account, I'm back to looking at basic, no frills, hand held models.

Anyone out there have any experience with these puppies that would be willing to offer suggestions?

People Like Us

In his powerful article, People Like Us, columnist David Brooks argues that despite the lip service Americans give to valuing diversity, in actuality we tend to be most comfortable when surrounded by people whose social characteristics mirror our own. I gave some thought to this as I began planning my weekend.

Last night I went to a play with a prosperous banker and his wife. Tonight I'm going to dinner with a friend who works three jobs to survive, who happens to be married to an immigrant from Mexico who has only a marginal grade school education. They are both honest, hard working folks who I enjoy tremendously. But their lives are very different from my own. Then I have plans to get together next week with some pals who are somewhere in the middle - neither rich nor poor, but again these are people whose choices, lifestyle and beliefs are quite different from mine. But we'll have them over for a game night and have a great time visiting as we munch on chips and veggies while playing scrabble and Tri-Ominoes.

I've had friends who are gay or bi as well as the "traditional" straight. Some of the people I've chosen to hang out with have been deeply religious (some Buddhist, some Orthodox, some adventist, as well as members of my own faith) and some have been practicing pagans or adamant atheists. I've had friends who were black, brown, red, yellow (by social distinction more than actual skin tone.) I've loved democrats and republicans. In fact, I married a man whose vote I cancel out every four years.

Brooks writes: "Some of us watch Fox News, while others listen to NPR. Some like David Letterman, and others—typically in less urban neighborhoods—like Jay Leno. Some go to charismatic churches; some go to mainstream churches. Americans tend more and more often to marry people with education levels similar to their own, and to befriend people with backgrounds similar to their own."

Really? Well, hmmm, I don't know where that leaves me.

It seems I have a very high tolerance for accepting those who are different than me.
I wonder why that is? And I wonder further, why do each of THOSE people choose to include me in their world?

It does seem that many people feel more comfortable associating with people who are more like themselves. So many folks rely on social division of "us" and "them" to guide them in navigating and defining where they fit in the larger world.

Brooks goes on to say: "People want to be around others who are roughly like themselves. That's called community. It probably would be psychologically difficult for most Brown professors to share an office with someone who was pro-life, a member of the National Rifle Association, or an evangelical Christian. It's likely that hiring committees would subtly—even unconsciously—screen out any such people they encountered. Republicans and evangelical Christians have sensed that they are not welcome at places like Brown, so they don't even consider working there. In fact, any registered Republican who contemplates a career in academia these days is both a hero and a fool. So, in a semi-self-selective pattern, brainy people with generally liberal social mores flow to academia, and brainy people with generally conservative mores flow elsewhere."

I think in many cases that is true. Perhaps it is because I've always wrestled with a high degree of personal contradictions, value ambivalence and far ranging interests that I have carved out a different path. In my double-think world of forever looking at issues from three different sides it just makes sense to surround myself with people as ecclectic as my own dissonance-based point of view. Or maybe it's because I've been judged or excluded myself based on arbitrary divisions that makes me all the more determined to not do that to someone else.

Whatever the case... I will continue to seek out people who are willing and able to share of themselves with the likes of me, who can accept me with all my own contradictions, rather than looking for anyone who necessarily looks like or lives like me. It may be an uncomfortable challenge for some, but for me, that's the path that fits.

HOW MANY DOLPHINS???

How many dolphins can you find in this picture? (answer will be in comments).

Christians - By Maya Angelou

A dear friend of mine sent me this poem today. What can I say, but AMEN!


When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'."
I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But, God believes I am worth it.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!

WEB SURVEY

I found a web survey to test an individual's locus of control. The description says:

Julian Rotter (1966) devised a locus of control personality test to assess the extent to which an individual possesses internal or external reinforcement beliefs. Terry Pettijohn, the author of Psychology: A ConnecText, has developed the following test based on Rotter's original idea. Indicate for each statement whether it is T (true) or F (false) for you. There are no right or wrong answers. This survey will give you a general idea of where you stand on the locus of control personality dimension.

If you are interested, you can take the survey here.

I scored 50, which mean I have BOTH internal and external locus of control.

Why am I not the least bit surprised by that? Yep, that would be me, forever the walking contradiction.

Locus of Control

I've been having a bit of discussion with Stacy over at La joie de Dieu est folie regarding the issue of Locus of Control.

Basically, some people see themselves as being masters of their own emotional states and personal destiny. Others remain convinced that external forces- whether it be other people's behavior, the weather, the state of the economy or whatever - makes them feel or react the way they do.

How many times have you heard (or said) "You make me so angry!"

It seems to me that it has become entirely too pervasive in our culture to look for others to blame for our emotions, let alone any bad behavior or negative outcome in our lives. I'm wondering, how much can an internal locus of control be TAUGHT, and what strategies might be used to do so?

This is something that I include in my closing lecture of the online Sociology course I teach:

Have you ever been on a sailboat? When I used to watch sailboats when I was little, I assumed that when the wind pushed the sail, the boat would go in whatever direction the wind was blowing. As I got older, I realized that made no sense. If that were true, the captain of the boat would have no control whatsoever of where he or she was going.

Later I learned that sailors use a specific technique of adjusting their sails called "tacking". By pulling on various ropes they move the sails this way and that. Based on the angle of their sails, they can move the boat in just about any direction, so long as there is sufficient wind. It works sort of like playing pool - you can make a cue ball go in different directions depending on which side of the ball and from what angle you strike it. You make the boat go in different directions by changing the angle of the sail.

What does that have to do with Sociology???

SOCIAL FORCES are the wind of our life. We have little or no control over many social conditions such as our culture's attitudes towards race, gender or age. Sometimes events or perceptions will be thrown at us, which are less than ideal. Many times other people in our lives will make choices that have a huge impact.

However, we are NOT completely at the mercy of society or other people's behavior. We are the captains of our ships, and by adjusting our sails, we decide what directions our lives will go. How you present yourself in the world in terms of the vocabulary you use, the way you dress, the way you treat people in relationships, and what attitude you choose to maintain is in YOUR control. YOU decide what moods you will allow to become habits and which ones you will work at to let go of. And your life will have a very different outcome based on the choices you make.

I had friends in Michigan who sold their house and business, bought a big sailboat and went sailing around the world. They had a 10 yr old son at the time. They simply pulled him out of public school and got a good home school curriculum to take with them. They took an amazing adventure that changed all of their lives. They would write to me from various ports telling stories of how they came through storms, times when the wind stopped for days, and other challenges. Yet they were very much on track, going from land mass to land mass pretty much according to the schedule THEY had planned. The reason they were able to be successful in their journey is that they were very knowledgeable about the currents and wind patterns, and used that knowledge to their advantage.

I believe that as we become more knowledgeable about SOCIOLOGY, we become better equipped to make wise choices in how we relate to others. This expertise empowers us to move forward in the direction we most desire, regardless of some of the barriers that may occur as challenges. There are still lots of things over which we have no control. However, the better we understand the nature and power of social norms, groupthink, bystander effect, racism, sexism, ageism, and all those other things we have studied, the better equipped we become to thrive in what may at times be a very stormy world.

There will be storms. There will be calm. Through it all, take care in how you trim your sails. I wish you smooth journey.

A bit of harmless diversion...

Ok, just for the fun of it - see if you can guess what word each of these pictures depicts. Answers will be in the comments.

Spots

The other day I stopped by a lemonade stand that a little kid had set up in her front yard adjacent to where the mom was running a yard sale. I already have a yard, so I didn't need a new one of those (or any more junk to clutter up the place), but it was a hot day and a cup of ice cold lemonade sounded nice. Besides, it was cute little girl running the stand and she looked like she was eager to do business. I asked her how much her lemonade cost. She looked up at me and said with full earnestness: "It's a dalmation!" I was a bit confused. She wants a spotted dog?? Fortunately the mom was listening and piped in to clarify..."No honey, it's a DONATION". I figured the laugh I got out of that was worth a buck right there.

The Wisdom of Pooh

I found a great quote over on another blog that says:

"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you sometimes find that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it." ~A.A. Milne

This is why talking things out with friends, a good therapist, or someone's spiritual leader can be so important. Things that loom large and wierd when kept silent in the mind can be sorted out so much better when expressed.
Perhaps that is also why I blog... it gives me a venue to figure out some stuff that is feeling thingish.... goodness knows there are plenty of things that go bump in the night rattling around in my brain that could use a bit of airing.

Work Stuff

I recently saw an ad for a job that I would really like to get (or at least I suppose I would...there is every possibility that the actual reality of the job is not at all like I have imagined it.)

It is a job I am most definitely qualified for and I think I would have a fair chance at getting if I tried. There's just one problem. It pays $10K less than I currently earn. OUCH!

Money isn't everything, I tell myself. This is a job where I could make a difference, a job I could take pride in, a job where more of my natural talents could shine. Also, it would put me back in the town where I used to work (Walla Walla), ending my exile to the land of Roundup cowboys. It would put me back where I would have access to spending more time with some friends I now seldom see.

For a lot of reasons, I am SOOOO tempted to apply for this job.

But...that would be a huge pay cut. What sacrifices would I have to make? Would it be worth it? I don't need to live large, but I also don't want to be scrambling for every dime. How much is enough?

My rational mind and my emotions are at war over this one. I can eloquently argue for both going for it or making my peace where I am currently employed.

What I have now is not a bad job. Granted, there are things about it that grate on my nerves, but wouldn't that be true in any job? At what point does it make sense to hold on to a less than gratifying job for the sake of the money and at what point to I go for broke and follow my heart?

No simple answers...my mind shifts and turns over this choice, giving me a kaleidoscope of different perceptions.

I think - APPLY - find out more, and then you can decide later if you want to take it or not.

But I also think NO - settle down. You still have things to learn and things to contribute where you are now. Another opportunity will come up later if you are patient that WILL let you use your talents. Trust that. But taking this would mean taking three steps back from all you have worked to achieve.

If I were to get this job I am quite certain there would be things I liked and things I didn't. I would not have so much LESS angst about my work, I would simply have DIFFERENT angst. Is that worth giving up the dollars that give me the current degree of freedom and independence to travel or help others or get stuff I enjoy?

AAGH!!! There is no clear right or wrong here, just open possibility. I probably won't go for it. But I will keep wondering if I should have. I can't help but imagine how things would be different if I DID take this path. Where would it ultimately lead?

Friendship, Losses & Transitions

Tonight I got an e-mail from an old friend of mine telling me of her heartache over the loss of someone she held dear. A person she had considered a rather close friend of some long standing has suddenly decided to pull back, giving no explanation other than "I can't do this anymore". My friend has no idea of what "this" referred to or what prompted the rift. She is left feeling a quagmire of loss, abandonment, rejection, and sadness without being able to comprehend why.

Talking her through this shambles of hurt feelings has got me to considering some of my own friendships, and reflecting over losses I've both caused and endured.

I had a best friend for a number of years when I lived in another state that I lost due to some things that happened that broke both our hearts. I tried to fix it. But apparently my efforts were too little too late. She chose to terminate all contact, refusing to return my calls. It has been nearly ten years since the final breach of that relationship. I miss her still.

More recently I have felt some pulling back from a relatively new friendship that I thought was going to be something really special and potentially long lasting. Someone I had started to trust and hoped to spend more time with seems to be backing off quite a bit. As far as I can tell there is no animosity or hurt feelings. It may just be circumstance of things she has going on in her world at this time. But for whatever reason, this person is either not willing or not available to pursue anything more than sporadic, peripheral contact with me right now. I'm not sure why. I really had believed we were on the road to being close buddies. So now I'm left wondering, did I misread the original cues or did something change? I try not to take the increasing distance personally. But of course, a part of my mind can't help but wonder, "Was it something I said? Was there something about me that made her pull away? Did I do something to make it so she no longer wants to share time with me?"

Then I think of a couple other occasions over the past few years when I was the one who pulled back...seeing clearly that some other person wanted very much to get to be my friend but for one reason or another I made the willful, deliberate choice not to carry on beyond a few attempts to get acquainted.

I'm trying to make sense of all of that. What does it mean to be a friend? What does it mean to have a friend?

How much difference from my own lifestyle and values do I like my pals to have? If they are too much like me it can get boring - we have nothing to contribute to one another. But if they are TOO different, that can cause problems too.

How much self revelation do I expect? How much can I give in return? If all I get from someone else is their public persona I may really like being around them...but it keeps the friendship more in the acquaintance category rather than allowing any significant trust and bonding to build. It is the very act of sharing a side of yourself that you DON'T give to just anybody who comes along that creates an intimate bond. If they are not willing to be more open with me in SOME way than they are to the average joe, then I feel less valued. However, the reverse can also be true...some people can share TOO MUCH private information to the point of making contact very uncomfortable. Where do we draw those lines? How much am I willing to adjust or accommodate my own expectations in this regard for someone who is more open or more private than me?

I look back at the friends who have graced my life...those who have stood the test of time are treasures I cherish with more reverence than they know. The few new people who have recently come into my world are shining stars that bring me joy and give me hope, but our histories are yet to be written. How much truth will these budding friendships withstand? There is almost a sense of courtship in the beginning with a new friend, as we each "put our best foot foreword" in our getting acquainted. It's not so much that we act fake or over-nice while getting to know each other. It's more a sense of moving step by step in testing how much of ourselves we are willing to share. Little by little we take risks of revealing more of our genuine, flawed selves and then wait to see if we are accepted still. If they know THIS about me will they still like me? How about if I say or do THIS? It's interesting to watch what things are easy to share and what things stay cloaked the longest time.

I also wonder about those that I was once close with but somehow let slip away just because one or the other of us changed jobs or moved, got married or divorced, or some other thing. Are those past friendships lost now or could they be resurrected? Is it realistic to expect to maintain close ties once the circumstances that formerly held us in each other's paths (like a job, serving together on a particular committee or kids playing on the same team) have ended?

Right now I'm really missing some folks that I've lost touch with in the past year due to these sorts of things...I still like them. They still like me. We just don't see each other anymore so it's hard to keep the torch of friendship alight.

In addition to having some people who I was once quite close with who I have since drifted away from, there are others who really touched me with their support or kindness that I never got to know well, but still appreciated with all my heart. Perhaps we shared a single important conversation or had some other exchange that brightened me, lifted me, when I needed it most. Maybe it was someone I met at a conference or workshop and then never saw again, but never forgot how much I enjoyed. Where do they fit in my bouquet of those I know and those I don't? Just because we don't hang out together now or keep in touch does not minimize the magic of what we did share.

These many different relationships are like the orchestra sound track of my life. There are high notes and low. There are all different instruments...some played better than others. Through it all, learning to love and be loved, to disclose confidences and keep them for others, to build and honor trust...all of that together is the music that makes me most human.

I think its time I reached out to a few folks I have had little or no contact with for a while and let them know how much I have valued them. We may not see each other often (or at all now) due to distance or other things...but good friendships are far to precious to let go by unacknowledged.

THOUGHTS

I've been thinking about my thinking, taking notice of the patterns there.

I'm working on some mind mapping to identify the thought directions I want to encourage and expand, as well as recognizing the patterns I would do better to nip in the bud.

I can't find the original source of the quote right now, but someone once said: "Thoughts are like birds. They are going to fly over your head, but you decide if they will make a nest in your hat."

So I'm trying to shift things around a bit. It's time to de-clutter some of those nooks and crannies. Somehow I seem to have collected some junk in the old grey matter that I'm ready to sweep out. It's like cleaning out closets and dusting the corners of my house. It's a whole lot of effort to tidy up what doesn't really show.

But, as the scripture says: "As a man thinks, so is he."

I've been thoroughly socialized to know how to deliberately choose and govern my BEHAVIOR. I'm housebroken. I brush my teeth. I know how to set the table. I know how to go to work, how to take care of the necessary domestic duties, how to pay the bills. I smile and shake hands and know the appropriate rules for how to interact with others. I play nice in the sandbox.

But sometimes, on the INSIDE, in the dark and quiet crevices of my brain, chaos reigns. Even when I go through the motions of having it all together externally, my internal thoughtlife is sometimes like a runaway train. From fleeting images to patterned, habitual thinking...the content and context of my mental images lately is not what I want it to be.

It's not so bad when I am focused on a particular task or consciously playing attention to a particular topic at hand. However, I have been working on shifting the landscape of what I am willing to hold in my mind during default mode - in those quiet times when I am not deliberately thinking of anything at all.

Our culture prods us to pay attention to all the wrong things. We notice what isn't working or think about what we wish were different rather than fully experiencing gratitude for what we do have. Too much energy is spent in regret over things from the past or obsessively worrying over the future.

I want my thoughts to be more consistently focused on the present and built on a foundation of gratitude. That does not mean I will put on rose colored glasses and paint everything pretty even when there are legitimate problems to be dealt with. But it does mean that how I construct my self talk in my head can be more routinely driven by the questions like these:

"What am I grateful for?"
"How can I more fully show concern and support for others?"
"What blessings could I be noticing right now?"

I am convinced that if I am fully armed with that sort of mental ammunition on a day-to-day basis, then I will be far better equipped to deal with the conflicts or concerns that arise along the way than if my thoughts are perpetually spiraling along the lines of "why does this always happen?" or "I wish I would have...".

What do you think about when no one is looking, not even you?

Thunderboomers

It's late at night and here I sit listening to the thunder roll across the sky. Every now and then lightening will flash bright, interrupting the dark. Rain spatters on my roof and against my window panes. It feels good to be safe and cozy inside while I listen to the storm rumbling out there in the night.

I love the smell of the earth and sky after a good rain. I don't like seeing worms all over pavement. But mostly I like the rain.

When I was a little kid my siblings and I used to joke that thunder was the sound of the angels bowling in heaven. From the sound of what's going on right now, somebody is getting strikes.

Getting it Right / Getting it Wrong

So I was having this big serious conversation with someone recently on the topic of "RULES." We were discussing what it means to "get it right" in terms of every day life and what it means to miss the mark. I have a tendency to "should" on myself a bit overmuch, and then to catastrophize when I fall short. My friend was suggesting that I let go of some of that elaborate pileup of rules I self impose. Lighten up!

HMMMM. I dunno. My postion is, that while it might be healthy for me to find a bit more balanced perspective, some things are just WRONG and to be avoided at all cost...for instance...see photo attached.

At least I still have my sense of humor.