Having gratitude

 

The angels among us

As a Catholic, the word 'angel' has always been a part of my vocabulary, but I would have been hard pressed previously to say that I believed in the presence of angels. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I believed in them but that I didn't really think about them or focus on them in any way. I've been in a couple of dangerous situations through the years and emerged unscathed from them, and when I look back, I believe that my guardian angel protected me from harm. We learn to pray to our guardian angel as children (Catholicism), but again, most of us say the words without really thinking about what we're saying. And that's ok;  perhaps it's meant to be that way. 

I was hospitalized for three weeks during the month of April, and during that time, I met many different people--doctors, nurses, technicians, aides, ambulance drivers, and other patients. All of the people I met touched me in different ways with their kindness and caring; I was well taken care of and I am very grateful for the excellent care that I received. I know that some readers will say that doctors and nurses should be kind and caring, but my feeling is that some of them went above and beyond the call of duty. I will remember them always, from the doctor at the urgent care facility who understood the seriousness of my condition and had me admitted to a hospital immediately, to the different doctors who patiently explained the different tests and procedures that I needed to undergo so that I could have a necessary operation, to the nurses in intensive care who monitored me 24/7, to the ambulance drivers who kept me talking so that I could focus on happier times. All of them were wonderful people and I can't thank them enough for what they did for me. 

There are some few people with whom I interacted that I would say were angels, in the sense that I felt that they were sent to me by God for a reason. Angels are considered to be spiritual beings (without a physical body), so my question is whether all angels 'know' who they are and if they can manifest themselves through humans. The first person was a seventy-eight year old woman named Vigdis, who was my roommate the first weekend I was hospitalized, and then after I was moved to another room, was someone I would meet for lunch and dinner in the hospital cantina. She said it best, that we liked to 'skravle' (to talk a lot and for a long time about many things). She had been through four hip operations, had had a broken back, and had lost her husband to cancer. She had a sense of humor that carried her through most of life's trials, and I so enjoyed talking to her. At one point, I realized that she was sent to me to take my mind off my own trials, and I told her that because I felt it so strongly. I had a very strong sense of being protected by her. She understood what I meant, and then we went on to talk about other things. When she was about to be released from the hospital, I met her to say goodbye, and she just said to me "give me a hug", which I did. And then we said goodbye and wished each other well. 

Two of my many nurses, Kaia and Nashia, were also sent to me for a reason. I knew that whatever happened to me under their care, that they would protect me. All of my nurses were very good to me, but they extended themselves in ways that made me feel that there was something extra surrounding our interactions. On Easter Sunday, Nashia asked me if I was religious, and I said I was. So she arranged for me to attend an interdenominational service led by a female priest named Berit, with whom I connected immediately. I told her how much I enjoyed the service, and when I met her the next day in the hallway, she told me that she had been thinking of me. I told her that I had been thinking of her as well because I had told my husband how much I enjoyed the service, and that I wished that my church would allow female priests. She excused herself for several minutes, and came back with a pair of rosary beads that she offered to me as an Easter gift. We talked about the pope for a while (he had just passed away and she had great respect for him), and then we parted. I will never forget her kindness to me; something in people's eyes that you can see. 'The eyes are the window to the soul', as has been said previously. They truly are. But again, I sensed that feeling of being protected, this time that my soul was protected. It's hard to describe it any other way. 

I could relate many more stories about the people I met during the three weeks I was sick, from the Iranian woman named Fatemeh who wished me well and told me there was something very special about me, to the nurse who, a couple of days after my operation, asked me how I had slept. When I told her that I had dreamed about eating a toasted buttered roll with scrambled eggs, she had the cantina prepare that for me. She didn't have to do that, but she went out of her way to make me happy. Then there was Liv, a very nice medical doctor doing research for her PhD, who asked me to be part of her research study since I fit the participation criteria. Since I was a cancer researcher before I retired, it was easy to say yes to her and to discuss her project with her. It's those extra little touches of kindness and caring that made me feel that I could get well again, that I will get well. I hang on to those moments when I feel a bit down. I hang on to those feelings of being protected. 

Hubris and bad behavior

I have begun to reflect on the following--to all those who think that the president's behavior is strong and heroic. You would do well to remember that you take for granted that those around you, who behave decently and kindly toward you as a matter of course, may one day no longer do that. We depend upon the good behavior of others around us to get through our lives. When or if we can no longer depend upon that, society as we know it is over. When we act like the president does toward others he doesn't like or who he deems unworthy of him, we injure others. There is no sane leader in the free world who behaves like him. I know the signs of a bully from previous experience. We can pray for them, yes, but we cannot let them rule a country and/or the world. Those who want that are misguided in my book. 

Hubris, defined as excessive pride, is not a good look on most people, and definitely not on the president. Just saying. It's embarrassing to listen to leaders brag about themselves. But he does. How would most people react if each of us suddenly decided to do the same and act excessively prideful. For example, I could say the following and reiterate it to anyone who would like to hear it ad nauseam. I was the smartest student in my grammar school class, the smartest student in my high school class, valedictorian of my high school class, went on to college and graduate school and received my doctorate in tumor cell biology. I worked for forty years as an academic research scientist, published nearly one hundred articles in my field, mentored Masters and PhD students (most of them women), and empowered women any chance I got. Because for a while there, I was one of two women who were senior scientists in my department. And that wasn't easy, because some of my workplace leaders behaved like the president--they were vengeful, spiteful and mean. If you didn't agree with everything they said, they froze you out and/or ignored you. But back to bragging about myself (thank you, Mr. President). I was a gifted and innovative research scientist (I know that because the reigning American guru in my field told me my work was excellent) and a damn good writer. I've published six books of poetry and one book about passive-aggressive leadership in the workplace, the latter which sold fairly well in the first few years after it was published. I started writing this blog in 2010, and have slowly built up a readership. At present, about a thousand people view my blog each day. I changed my life in my early thirties by moving to Norway and building a life here, learning a new language, and working for over thirty years in a foreign country. My husband and I never made a ton of money, but we've traveled through Europe and the USA on a budget. We are doing fine financially, have no debt, and are enjoying our retirement. I'm currently relearning Spanish and learning Italian online. I'm so clever. I taught myself how to garden after being gifted an allotment garden in 2016, and am quite good at it. I love to travel and to write. I'm so smart. I've accomplished a lot, and it's so great. Look at me, how great I am. You'll never find a greater person than me in the whole world.........blah blah blah ad nauseam. 

You get my drift. Would most people enjoy hearing me spout all this every time I opened my mouth? They would not. And I would never in a million years behave like this. But that is what is now held up as correct behavior, at least in the current political arena. We applaud this in our leaders. 'Look at me, I am so great. The greatest the country has ever seen'. But we would never want our spouses or children to behave like this. Why not? Why not encourage and applaud this behavior in others around us? Perhaps more people should try this as an experiment in their daily lives, just to see the effects on those who support bullies. I don't call this behavior good behavior, I call it bad behavior. But perhaps more people should try it, just to see the effect on loved ones. Guaranteed the divorce rate will shoot through the roof. 

Am I better than most people? I am not. Am I a better Christian than other Christians? I am not. I awake each day with gratitude for another day, another chance to try to be a good person. I have lived my life according to the values that were inculcated in me by my parents, who were humble people. They are my heroes and my role models, and I will forever love them for it. 

Sunday mornings

Sunday mornings. In a city. Oslo, to be precise. Sunday mornings in early March. Spring is right around the corner. You can feel it in the air. The hope and promise of spring. March and April are perhaps my favorite months of the year, although the summer months rival them, at least in terms of garden life. But right now, life is returning to the city, to the garden, to us all. The sun feels warmer on my face when I sit on the bench in my garden after having filled the bird feeder. I love watching the small birds fly to and fro, eating seeds and chattering away. The snowdrops, the real harbingers of spring, are poking their heads up and starting to bloom. 

There is a peace that I love on early Sunday mornings when I walk to St. Olav church. The sun is shining and there are very few cars or people about. There is the occasional jogger or dogwalker, but by and large I have the sidewalks to myself. It is at these times that I love being in a city. I know I'm surrounded by people and I like that, but they're not milling about me as they would be during mid-summer. So I'm enjoying the peace and quiet time, walking up Teltusbakken and past our allotment garden, then walking along Kjærlighetsstien and the park/playground until I reach Akersveien. I then walk past Our Savior's Cemetery and then past St. Olav bookstore. Akersveien is one of my favorite streets in Oslo; it is peaceful, perhaps due to the religious feelings engendered by the church, bookstore and cemetery. It fills me with the peace and feelings of safety from childhood, when all seemed (mostly) right with the world, when Sundays meant going to church with family and then coming home and eating afternoon dinner together. When I walk along Akersveien, I forget that I am living in a nonsensical world that gets crazier by the day. 

March is an unpredictable month in terms of the weather, I know that. So I enjoy the little tastes of spring that we are given on days like these, when the sun shines, when I feel like I have no cares in the world, when it feels as though the peace of the divine is shining down upon us. 

Group thinking and things I've learned along the way

As those who know me know, I don't like group thinking. I don't like being told how or what to think by well-meaning but ultimately know-it-all groups. I never have, even when I was a child in school. I prefer being able to weigh both sides of a societal or political issue in the peace and quiet of my private space. In solitude. I don't want anyone explaining a situation to me unless I have specifically asked for advice about it. Does that make me difficult to live with? At times, probably. However, when it comes to personal issues, I am very loyal to those I care about. I'll side with them, no questions asked, unless what they've done or are doing is of a truly criminal nature. But again, loyalty is a personal decision, not a group one. If I make a mistake concerning this, I'm the only one who has to answer for it. 

Given the current political climate, I'm glad I don't subscribe to group thinking. I'm glad I don't belong to one political party. I'm glad that I try to think for myself, to reason things out based on the information and news available. But there's the rub. Where to get unbiased news and information? It's getting harder and harder each day. So what do I do? I read newspapers and articles from both sides of the political spectrum. I remain politically independent. I don't belong to either major political party. In the current political climate, some might call that cowardly. I call it smart. You're not going to force me to hand over my intelligence to a mob. I'm not interested in mob thinking. Again, I've been like this for many years, since grammar school. Since I sat at the dinner table when I was a teenager and debated the important political issues with my father, who was both intelligent and kind. We two were the only ones interested in doing this in my family. I'm glad I got that training from him. We didn't always agree, but I learned to discuss and debate an issue and to defend my ways of thinking. Sometimes I changed my mind if I saw the wisdom in the other's point of view. But that was the point, we were able to discuss and debate, something that is long-gone in our current society. Nowadays, if someone disagrees with you, especially on social media or online, you'll find yourself the recipient of a barrage of hate comments, troll comments, laughter emojis or anger emojis. I have yet to read a comment that says 'hey, that's an interesting point. Thanks for posting. You gave me something to think about'. One of the reasons I closed the ability to comment on my blog was because the comments were either spam-like or downright hostile. One of the last ones I received from an anonymous (of course) poster before I shut the comments section said that he/she wished that I would die. I've got to wonder why, since I certainly don't set out to offend anyone when I write my posts. But I'm certainly not going to tolerate such things or even pursue them. My blog, my rules. If you don't like what I write, feel free to go elsewhere for your entertainment.

Things I've learned, especially during the last ten years--

• Those who shout the loudest are usually those who have little to say, or nothing to say that's of any value. You can shout in my face, be aggressive or threatening, and I'm still not going to convert to your way of thinking. I will 'listen' to you, as in, my eyes will be focused on your face and you will think I'm listening to you, but I'm really not. I learned that technique in the third grade when a teacher, who was particularly odious, singled out her pet scapegoats for her particular brand of mobbing. She was a bully, and the school let her continue as a teacher. Her modus operandi was to instill fear; she succeeded with some students, I'm sure. She only succeeded in awakening an anger in me that can truly scare even me when it is fully unleased. And I learned to unleash it as an adult. You would not like to be in my presence if you have wronged me or another that I care about. Why am I so preoccupied with fairness and justice for others? I need only think back to that teacher and how she treated some fellow students, and I know why. Or I think back to a time when I was treated poorly by another. You would not like to know some of the thoughts that ran through my head at those times. But then, I could not act on my anger. I was a child/young adult, and I was constrained by my upbringing ('be nice') and my religion ('be kind to others'). It took a long time to understand that anger is a good emotion, and when used correctly, can actually be helpful in changing your current situation or changing your life. 
• The above post also applies to those priests who like to bark out their sermons from the pulpit. Who think they know best. Do you win me over with your fire and brimstone sermons? You do not. And as many of you know, I have been (and remain) in non-agreement with some of the positions that my religion stubbornly will not discuss (female priests and married priests). And I was and remain furious with them for not prosecuting their pedophile priests, however small the number, for the criminals they were and are. The church, as my father used to say, is not infallible. It is filled with fallible men, and that must be understood.
• I don't particularly like bureaucracies (just ask my former colleagues), but I've come to admit that they are necessary. Yes, some of them are too big. No, I don't think that they should be completely dismantled. What happens when you do the latter? You disrupt a society that needs bureaucracies in order to function, a society where some of its people rely on disability and/or welfare payments, health insurance, etc. We are not all wealthy billionaires. I only object to bureaucracies when they micromanage all aspects of people's lives and/or careers and when they try to convert non-bureaucrats (e.g. scientists, doctors) to a bureaucratic way of thinking, which is what happened in my former workplace. 
• Disruption and creating chaos are tactics to get a society to accept group thinking. Think about it. If you disrupt the functioning of a society and create chaos, and then you come along as the great leader who will save society, you gain followers. They think, oh, the savior has arrived. I will follow him or her. I will be loyal to him or her, and I will badmouth all the others who try to stop him or her.
• Social media and the AI algorithms that power them play a huge role in the creation of group thinking. Take Facebook, for example. If you like a particular group or page, your feed will be inundated with posts having to do with that particular topic (in my case--gardens and gardening). If you extrapolate to political posts, you'll find that if you click 'like' on some 'leftist' or 'rightist' post, your feed will suddenly be filled with posts from left-leaning or right-leaning newspapers and organizations. After a time, that is all that you will read or focus on. And the algorithms are clever, they'll always find a new group for you to peruse and agree with. I call it subtle brainwashing. It's the same with tv; if you watch one channel that pushes a right-wing agenda, you'll eventually end up thinking like them if that's your only source of information. Why do the right-wing stations think they're the only ones who present 'the facts and the truth'? How do they 'know' that? They don't, but they're telling you that they're the only ones who know the truth and have the real facts. It's insidious. And the left-wing channels do the same, they're no better. 
• Group thinking leads to intolerance of other ways of thinking. Think about it. Each time we are 100% certain that our way of thinking is the 'right' way of thinking, we close the door to others. We close the door to diverse ways of thinking, to innovative and creative solutions to problems. We close the door to compassion and empathy. The woke movement, while it may have been well-meaning at the start, has also become intolerant of those who don't accept its ways of thinking. It is possible to believe a certain way and have the intelligence to understand that those who think and believe differently are still worthy of our respect and empathy. If this is not the case, what is the definition of civilization and humanity?
• Schools should teach students how to think critically and objectively in order to face an ever-increasing polarization of society. As far as I can see, they do not at present. They have abdicated that role. Parents must therefore try to fill the gap. But they are often tired and without time to do so. I think back to my father's role in my life. He did that job. He taught me to think critically and objectively, even when he was very tired, and I love him for it. There should be more men like my father in the world. 

Inconsistencies

The odd times we live in have given rise to inconsistencies that are just begging to be commented upon. 

The political party of family values, headed by two powerful and wealthy men, have fathered seventeen children between them via six different women. The same party is pushing for the birth of more children in the USA, but is not anti-divorce or anti-adultery or pro-marriage for that matter. Family values? Don't make me puke. Having more children is all well and good, but I'm assuming that if they're not pushing for polygamy in order to achieve that goal, this means that in monogamous marriages, wives should be willing to have more than one child, despite the fact that it costs a fortune at present to raise a child, buy a home, and pay monthly expenses. So is the party of family values willing to give young couples a break so that they can have large families? And do women get a say in how they want to live their lives? Just asking. This brings me to the next point.

If the party wishes to return to 1950s America, when family values were apparently sacrosanct, when women stayed home to raise children (more than one) while men as heads of the family worked to provide for their families, then I'll say to the younger men who like this philosophy, get your asses in gear. Or get off your asses. Get out there and hustle for an education and high-paying jobs. 1950s America is no place for losers. You're a loser if you don't make a good salary and provide a house for your family. And you can forget about getting any help from mommy or daddy. Men in America at that time, unless they came from truly wealthy families, did not get help from anyone. They made it on their own. So get out there and work for a living instead of living at home with mommy and daddy until you're thirty. Stop living life through your devices. Stop moaning and complaining that women aren't interested in you. They will be if you show them that you can earn money. THAT was 1950s America. It was no place for men who were losers in the job market, whiners, or complainers. And there was no safety net. 

The men who support the current political regime are the men most likely to lose under it. It is not a regime that supports losers, the poor, the uneducated. It says it does and says it will, but it won't. It will enrich the already-rich. Because most politicians at present, in both parties, have grifter tendencies. They are interested in enriching themselves. That's the world we live in, that's the world we've become. Eat or be eaten. It's about survival of the fittest. And those at the top of the food chain got there by eating those at the bottom of the food chain. Study Darwin and you'll learn all about evolution, which as much as you'd like to deny it, is a reality and a fact of life. 

And of course, along with the new regime, comes the resurgence of viewpoints about how women should behave. Women, like children, should be seen and not heard, unless they're the 'dollies' on Fox News as my friend calls them. If you look 'glam', you're acceptable to men. If not, you're invisible. The non-glam women should just know their place, in relationships and in society at large. They should acquiesce to men. When I was younger, I had a conversation with a priest friend of mine where we disagreed about the New Testament passage that talks about wives obeying (submitting) to their husbands. What is often ignored is the second part of that equation--the admonition for husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church. I told the priest, when men can achieve that, when they can love their wives as Christ loved the church, then come talk to me about wives acquiescing to their husbands in all things. I haven't met one man who has managed that type of love, not one. The priest had no response, because he knew I was right. And while we're on the topic, why should women listen to others less intelligent than themselves about how to live and think? There are so many women I know who are far more intelligent than many men. How they think and feel about their lives is far more important to me than what some random men (read--politicians) I do not know or care about, think. 

Is the party of family values going to do something about the dying middle class? Will they continue to blame the less fortunate for their status in life? Because no matter what, a civilized society will always have to carry the less fortunate, because that is what civilized societies do. My father used to say that. Christ, who was a wise man, once said that 'the poor you will always have with you'. What kind of society blames it citizens for not being financially successful when that same society makes it impossible to for its citizens to get ahead? If you're in debt up to your ears because of high prices for everything, you have no chance. The rich blame the poor for being poor. But perhaps the truly rich should look at the advantages that they've had from birth. They are not the advantages that the poor have had, that's for sure. And trust me, if you haven't had those advantages, you can scramble and struggle an entire lifetime to achieve success and never reach the level of wealth and success that the rich enjoy. Because many of the rich inherited their wealth; they did not work or struggle for it. Average ordinary people, who belong to the middle class that I was born into, worked hard to get what they have. Most of them have achieved moderate success. Most of them are financially-comfortable. But most of them would go under if faced with staggering medical bills as a result of some illness that required expensive treatments or full-time nursing care. And most of them are careful with money, with how they spend it. That is not something the truly rich need to worry about. The current level of hypocrisy in society is appalling. Perhaps it's always been there, but I see it in its entirety now. We need to call it out at every opportunity. The time to rise up against it is now. 

Saying goodbye to Gunvor

My husband's aunt Gunvor died recently at the age of ninety-six. A long life, mostly a good one except for the past five years or so where she struggled with health problems--not being able to really walk and toward the end, poor blood circulation that led to the loss of toes. Through it all, she rarely complained, which I found admirable, because I doubt that would be me. I often said to her that she was a role model for how to age gracefully. She lived in a nursing home for the past seven years, and that by itself would test anyone's patience, even though they took good care of her. The family visited her often, so she was not left alone. And a family friend, Odd, who had lived next door to her when she still had her apartment on the river, was often there as well. 

I met her and her husband Åke in the early 1990s when I first moved to Norway. Both of them welcomed me into the family with open arms. We had many pleasant and memorable Christmas celebrations at their house in Fredrikstad until Åke's death in 1998, and then at our place in Oslo from then on. Odd often drove Gunvor to Oslo the day before Christmas Eve, we all had lunch together, and then Gunvor stayed with us until the day after Christmas. It was always nice to sit in the kitchen and talk about everything while we cooked on Christmas Eve. Gunvor helped with food preparation where she could. 

I also remember when my husband and I moved to San Francisco in 1993 in connection with his postdoc at the University of San Francisco. Gunvor and Åke visited us in October 1993 for three weeks, and together we explored San Francisco and the surrounding area. There was a particularly memorable trip to Napa Valley where we visited several wineries and tasted different wines. A wonderful trip. And then we visited Muir Woods with the gigantic old redwood trees, and also Alcatraz prison. And when Halloween came around, I remember that Gunvor was completely captivated by all the pumpkins in connection with Halloween festivities.

In 1999, I defended my doctoral thesis, and after the defense there was a dinner for almost forty people in one of the dining rooms at the local hospital. I was so stressed because we had to set the tables and set everything up ourselves. Gunvor and Åke helped set the tables and place flowers on the tables. They just saw that I needed help and they helped me without asking, and voila, everything was arranged.

I will always remember how hospitable and kind both of them were to me when I first came to Norway. They are forever in my heart. And I will always remember the good conversations I had with Gunvor about life and family and children (they never had any). I will miss her.

Glimpses into eternity

Sometimes when I'm looking out of my kitchen window on a particularly nice sunny day (like today), I get the feeling that I'm on the verge of understanding what life is all about. The meaning of life. I've been reflecting on that lately. It's hard to understand what the meaning of life is, really. And yet, sometimes I get 'glimpses' into another way of looking at life that disappear almost as quickly as they appear. What I do know is that there is an incredible peace associated with those 'glimpses'. Perhaps they are glimpses into eternity. All I know is that in those moments, it all makes sense to me, there is incredible peace, and what is clear is that the meaning of life has little or nothing to do with the nonsense that goes on in the world. It has mostly to do with nature that exists in parallel to the world we know and inhabit. It's hard to imagine that this planet we live on is the only one in the universe that supports life (as we know it). And yet, it seems that way. Many cosmologists think this is the case; who am I to argue with them? If that is the case, we humans are unique in the universe. We are special. But that does not mean that we can live with impunity as we proceed with our lives on this planet. The animals, birds and fish and all other life are also special. We know from the Old Testament that we were charged with taking care of the animals, birds and fish, that we have dominion over them. Dominion implies that we rule over them, however, I choose to interpret dominion as akin to the role of a shepherd. Our role is to guide and protect those over which we have dominion.  

Whenever I feel that I'm losing my bearings or my way, a brief time spent outdoors in the peace of a garden, park or forest sets me back on the right path. The right path may be different for each person. For me, it's about having a kind, orderly view of life, living life in concert with the natural world. A simple view, really, where each creature has its part to play, where each life matters. Where one does not go out of one's way to hurt or injure others. A view of life where the path is not jarred by the world's human nonsense and misery-- violence, aggression, entropy, disorder, inhumanity, cruelty. Of course I know that the world of nature can be brutal; the larger animals, birds, and fish prey on the smaller. There is cruelty in the natural world too. But because these creatures lack a conscience, they are simply living out their lives as they were created to do. They cannot feel guilt because their goal is survival. They do not kill for the sake of killing. They need to eat to survive, and as long as no one is providing food for them, they must obtain food on their own. With some few exceptions, they kill to eat. Brutal yes, but necessary. That is not the case for us. We kill with impunity in many cases--violent conflicts and wars come to mind. We lie, steal, argue and attack others and the natural world deliberately and with impunity. It's sad. It makes me wonder if any of these people have ever really reflected on the meaning of life in the context of the natural world. Do they reflect on the meaning of life, their own lives, at all? Do the politicians whose unkind, aggressive, and nasty policies and behavior ever think about the meaning of life? I wonder. I know that some do. However, in the current political climate, I'm not so sure. 

I wonder what would happen if we trusted more in God's ability to provide for us. I don't think we do that very often. It's often said that God helps those who help themselves, and while that's true, I think letting go and letting God is also a good way to live. It gives us a peace that we otherwise seem to have lost. What if we trusted God's plan more? Perhaps if we did, we'd get more glimpses into eternity, into another way of life that provides a peace unlike any other. Perhaps that would give us the strength to live correctly in the world. And perhaps there would be an end to the utter greed that is destroying us. 

Rage in society

I've been thinking about rage for some time. The world is teeming with rage-filled people. Every day, there is another news story about a terrorist attack, someone being stabbed, shot, pushed in front of a subway train, terrorized by an ex-husband, murdered by an ex-husband, not to mention road rage and the inability to make a mistake in traffic without possibly losing your life over it. The list of rage-induced behaviors is long and everyone has an unfortunate story to tell. When you've been the recipient of another's rage, it's not likely that you'll forget it any time soon, if you live to tell the tale. 

What is rage? It is defined as violent uncontrollable anger. You certainly understand viscerally what rage is when you are unfortunate enough to experience it via another human being. Both men and women feel rage, but men are more likely to express their rage outwardly (acts of aggression) whereas women are less impulsive. Perhaps women weigh the consequences more, for various reasons. For women, not acting on their rage is often smarter, especially if the other person (usually a man) is likely to use violence against them in his rage outburst. It makes more sense to try to be a peacemaker in the interest of self-preservation; I would guess that is true for many women who would rather not end up bloodied and bruised at the hands of an angry man. The children of abusive parents learn that lesson very young; they learn to deflect, distract, and to dilute others' anger (and sometimes their own) in order to avoid potential abuse. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Women can say the same when dealing with violent men. 

There is such a thing as righteous anger. Righteous anger stems from a perception of injustice, that an injustice has been done to oneself, another person, another group of people. Righteous anger is not frowned upon as long as it does not lead to wanton violence and killing of those perpetrating the injustices. In our civilized societies, there are laws and courts to deal with the perpetrators of injustice. Those who hurt others out of their uncontrollable rage should pay the price--jail. We may rejoice when a perpetrator experiences karma--gets paid back for his or her transgression--but it still is best that they are dealt with under the law. We don't want vigilante justice to take hold in society. We had that once in the early days of our nation, and it was a brutal daily life for many people, especially when the vigilantes were the self-appointed 'sheriffs'. That didn't work out well. 

The anger in society is out of control. One need only witness the wars, conflicts, outward threats, veiled threats, and otherwise hostile interactions between nations, religions, leaders, etc. Aggressive rhetoric promotes aggression. Why do we elect politicians who foment hostility and aggression, even violence? Why is the world filled with angry old male politicians? Why do we want to be led by them? I'm not saying that women are necessarily better leaders, they're not. But in our civilized nations, more women should have the chance to lead countries. Nor am I saying that anger has no purpose, but continual anger lived out on a daily basis means that random acts of violent aggression, often with fatal incomes, will only increase. Is that what we want? Is that the world we want for our children and grandchildren? It is possible to identify societal problems, enforce laws, and promote peace without resorting to violence and vigilante thinking. It is possible to use anger constructively. More people should invest in anger management courses; I think they'd benefit from them. And perhaps it's time to kick the habit of watching too many violent tv series that depict murder and violence of all kinds graphically. I for one am mighty tired of all these kinds of shows and the behaviors they depict--indiscriminate use of guns and knives, stalking, murder, torture, serial killing, rape, kidnapping, home invasions, abuse of women, spousal abuse, and rage of all kinds. Why is this entertainment, day in and day out? What does it do to the minds of those who watch this as entertainment? It certainly is not entertainment. 

 

Winter darkness

I probably write a post about winter darkness each year, and each year I end up feeling the same way about winter darkness as I did the year before, so I put pen to paper to say that I don't like it. The winter days are too short, the nights are too long. It gets dark between 3:30 and 4 pm, and stays dark until around 8 am when light starts to filter through the clouds. The sun doesn't formally rise however until after 9 am. This morning sunrise was at 9:19 am and sunset was at 3:19 pm. That amounts to six hours of daylight and eighteen hours of darkness. 

Sometimes I wake up (unwillingly) in the middle of the night, turn on the light, and look at the clock. I did that this morning; the clock showed 6:30 am and it was still pitch black outside. I thought to myself, I can get through December and January, but after that, I'm ready for the light and warmth of spring. Imagine a world without the sun. Imagine our planet trying to survive without the warming sun. I wouldn't want to live in that world. It's no wonder our ancestors feared the dark and worshipped the sun. I would have done the same. 

You never know what's lurking in the dark, and even if it's not a real danger or threat, there is a tendency when I wake up in the middle of the night for my thoughts to veer in a pensive direction. Normally I wouldn't mind that, but in the middle of the night, I do. Because my mind races with all sorts of thoughts, blown out of proportion, that seem almost trivial and silly in the light of day. One thing I've learned--don't make any important life decisions at 3 am in pitch darkness. That's never a good idea. 

Darkness evokes feelings of emptiness, sadness, fear, loneliness and depression. Fear of the unknown, the void, the emptiness. Fear of not mattering to a soul, fear of being alone in the universe. Darkness feels all-encompassing, as though it will envelope and swallow you. Summer darkness is less intense than winter darkness, but I still don't like it. Daylight and sunlight bring feelings of contentment, happiness, safety, togetherness and joy. Daylight ushers in a lightness of spirit. In the daylight, in the warmth of the sun, I feel the sense of possibility--that anything can be tackled as long as there is light. 

Loneliness and longing

At Christmas mass last night, the priest gave a short sermon about God's longing for us. He meant that God did not want to be alone, he wants to be with man whom he has created. He seeks us. He wants us to accept him into our lives. Somehow, when he said this in just this way, I felt a certain empathy for God. I thought--was it possible for the divine to feel loneliness? Or is loneliness just a human emotion? I don't think so, but how can we ever know? The only thing I know is that when I feel lonely, it has more to do with my spirit and less to do with the corporeal. When I feel lonely, I also long for fellowship but mostly for understanding. In this context, loneliness is associated with the longing to be understood by those around me but also by the divine. It's possible to feel alienated from both at times, thus creating a feeling of loneliness (longing). God also wants man to understand him as much as is humanly possible. So that makes me wonder if our feelings are (a small) part of what defines the 'divine'. Lots of questions, but no answers, as always when it comes to faith and spirituality. We accept a lot on trust, and that's fine. But I like the idea that God can feel loneliness; after all, if he created all things, then he understands loneliness, and he understands that loneliness is part of the human condition. 

I like the priest who celebrated mass last night because he seems to be a peaceful, non-combative soul, not aggressive in speech or manner. He does not attack his congregation with fire-and-brimstone sermons, but engages them in a kind way with sermons that speak of the power of love (agape). I found myself thinking of Pope Francis, who seems to be made of the same cloth. Francis recently exhorted priests to shorten their sermons, which is wonderful advice, especially for priests who insist on just repeating the words of the gospels and not offering any reflections on the relevance of the gospel words. We don't need the gospel words reiterated verbatim; we're perfectly capable of understanding the words. I want a reflective approach to sermons, or you can mostly skip them in my opinion. In the world we live in now, we need more priests who are willing to truly reflect on the words of the gospels and offer advice on how to live with faith in a world such as ours. 

I wrote to a friend of mine recently who is going through a tough time that having hope for change, hope that things can get better, is the essence of our faith. A message of redemption--that it's never too late to change the path we're on or to ask for forgiveness or to make amends. That is the message of Easter but also of Christmas. We wait during Advent for the birth of a being who was sent to us by God. We open our hearts to this baby in the hope that we will be blessed and transformed. Babies and small children can do that to you--open your heart and transform your spirit. No wonder that God decided that Christ would start life as a baby. When you think about it, it makes perfect sense. But in order to be transformed, we need to accept ourselves for who we are with all our faults and peccadilloes and to ask God to enter our lives. Sounds easy, but for many people, it's not. But by accepting him into our lives, the loneliness associated with the longing to be understood can lessen. 

Reflections on his life from Camus

Here's to hope, faith, persistence and resilience at Christmastime and in the new year......

Reflections on life from Albert Camus. 

“My dear, 

In the midst of hate, 

I found there was, within me, 

an invincible love. 

In the midst of tears, 

I found there was, within me, 

an invincible smile. 

In the midst of chaos, 

I found there was, within me, 

an invincible calm. 

I realized, through it all, that; 

In the midst of winter,

I found there was, within me, 

an invincible summer. 

And that makes me happy. 

For it says that no matter 

how hard the world pushes 

against me, within me, 

there’s something stronger,

something better, 

pushing right back. 

Truly yours, 

Albert Camus,” Summer in Algiers

Life is a one-way street

Our lives are often referred to as the 'roads' or 'paths' we're on. Moving through life does feel like being on a road, albeit with detours that can track us off or lead us back eventually to the main road. The main road should include a sign that reads 'destination unknown'. Because although we're moving straight ahead, it's not always clear what our destination is. Some would say heaven or the afterlife, some would say a void if they don't believe in an afterlife, and others don't give it much thought at all. All of us keep plodding forward, although the word plodding implies heaviness and grimness. Life can weigh us down at times with its problems, so it's not always easy to have a light step. 

Whether we walk lightly or doggedly, one thing is certain. There is no reverse, no going back. We can't walk backward, can't reclaim past years, can't go back to living in the past, as much as we might like to sometimes when life gets difficult. Sometimes, the desire is strong to return to a time when life seemed less burdened, less weighed-down with societal and personal issues. But the reality is that they were there too in the past; we just tackled them differently because we were younger and the whole of life was still ahead of us. We were naïve in a good way; we didn't have the life experience that we do now. Perhaps we reacted more impulsively to certain situations on which we would use more careful consideration now. It's hard to know for sure. 

Although we can't walk backward into the past, we can walk more lightly when we forgive ourselves and others on the road with us. Forgiveness of others lightens our burdens; it unencumbers us. It clears the path ahead for new experiences, new adventures, kinder lives, and gentler spirits. We don't walk alone on our one-way street of life; we walk together with those we love and care about. 

Inclusive workplaces?

One of the trends/ideas that surfaced in my former workplace around fifteen or so years ago was the idea of having the workplace be inclusive. I googled the term 'inclusive workplace' recently, and this is what popped up as the first link: Inclusive Workplace - Canadian Association for Supported Employment

An inclusive workplace is more about culture than anything else. It is about creating a workplace where everyone is treated with respect and valued for their contributions. In an inclusive workplace, colleagues and customers are treated with dignity, respect and equality, and these values are reflected in the company’s mission and vision. Policies and procedures are implemented and managed so that employees’ rights are preserved.

It sounds nice, reads well, and leaves a good taste in your mouth. My question is what happens when workplaces are not inclusive even when they purport to be so? When it's all talk and no action? When there are no consequences for treating employees disrespectfully? What then? What happens when a disrespectful culture is what defines a workplace? What happens to employees' self-esteem and sense of self when they are not valued for their contributions?

I bring this up because today I met with a former colleague whom I haven't seen in a while. She still works at my former workplace but wants to retire soon. It's been three years since I left my workplace behind, and I don't miss it. More specifically, I don't miss the workplace culture. I don't miss the lack of real interest in employees, the lack of interest in their contributions, the many indifferent leaders, or the unending talk about change and how employees should just acquiesce to leaders' wishes. I don't miss the tasks that were assigned to me that ended up stranded halfway because they were tasks that required the collaborative efforts of several individuals. In other words, they were not tasks that one person alone, without personnel or a budget, could perform. It was sad, really, because I poured my heart and soul into several of them, but without support from above and below, they ended in limbo. Luckily, I could focus on my cancer research projects, and they were successful because they were well-designed and supported. I wouldn't have had it any other way, since being a research scientist was my chosen profession. I did not study science for many years and pursue a doctoral degree to become an administrator, but that's what my department would have preferred I ended up as. But had they really wanted that, they would have supported me with personnel and a budget. As it was, I had to supply my own budget for a specific department activity by writing a grant proposal for it. That was my initiative and I got grant support, not for myself, but for my department. All well and good, but this is not how things should have been run. Money should have been appropriated by my department for the task at hand. My department never had much money to spare. It was chronically overstaffed with mediocre leaders and understaffed with competent employees who knew what they were doing and who were willing to work with me on solving some of the departmental issues. In the end, we concluded that the department talked a good fight but couldn't 'put their money where their mouth was', as we say in the States. Sad, because some of the tasks could actually have been successfully accomplished and finished. 

My point with this post is that my former workplace was not really interested in inclusiveness. You were left on your own, left alone, to work it all out. Emphasis on alone. I spent most days alone in my office. I don't envy others as a rule, but when I hear people describe their workplaces in glowing terms, I envy them. I wish I had had another type of experience during the past decade; I wish that I hadn't felt abandoned, ignored, bypassed or irrelevant. I have gained a perspective and understanding now that I no longer work there. How much of it had to do with age and how much of it had to do with a dysfunctional workplace, I'll never know. I do know that the turnover rate among lower-level employees was high. I do know that there was a lot of dissatisfaction among many employees. Many of them said and still say (when I meet them socially) pretty much what I've written here; they did and do not feel appreciated by their leaders, and many of them worked very hard, so laziness was not an excuse for the disrespect. It's odd how a dysfunctional culture can gain traction and then end up permeating every aspect of one's work life. It's odd when you gain perspective after no longer working there--that the workplace wasn't an inclusive one. Had it not been for one leader (a friend of mine) who worked there briefly and tried her best to change the culture (and failed) during the last four or five years of my work life, those years would have been among the loneliest ever. I have a friend here, in her early sixties, who is still working and feels that she still has a lot to give. She doesn't want to retire. But she is treated poorly by her workplace (not my former workplace); she is bypassed, ignored, and frozen out of major decisions. She calls it harassment. I think it is. But nothing will change and she will end up leaving that workplace because as one person, she cannot fight a team of indifferent leaders who don't care about her or whether or not she is happy at work. It's pervasive, the non-inclusive workplace. But it's more common than one might think. 

Winter darkness

The darkness of winter is beginning to descend upon us now. Saturday December 21, which is the winter solstice, will be the shortest day of the year. We are already beginning to experience shorter days, with today's sunrise at 8:39 am and sunset at 3:28 pm. I remember when I first moved to Oslo in the late autumn of 1989. It was difficult to get used to the shorter days, even though the days get shorter in New York too. But not as short as in Oslo. For example, in Manhattan, today's sunrise was at 6:54 am and the sunset will be at 4:30 pm. In other words, sunrise is almost two hours earlier in NYC and sunset about one hour later in NYC compared to Oslo. Of course that makes a difference to your body. 

I remember that I was tired a lot during the first winter I lived here. The darkness didn't bother me in any other way. I didn't suffer from SAD (seasonal affective disorder), which is a kind of winter depression. But I missed the longer days, or at least my body did. And now, having lived here for over thirty years, I finally understand why Norwegians are almost sun-worshippers once the summer comes. I've become one as well. The summers are the complete opposite of winters--long days with a lot of light. That too took some getting used to. If we were out on the town partying until 1 or 2 am in the 1990s, we'd come home and try to sleep, and it was hard because at mid-summer, the sun was already starting to shine. For example, on June 20 of this year, which was the summer solstice and the longest day of the year, sunrise in Oslo was at 3:53 am and sunset at 10:43 pm. And even when the sun goes down at almost 11 pm, the light in the sky doesn't really fade away until around midnight. That's the nice part of summer, because if the weather is nice and warm, you can sit in the garden until at least 11 pm if you want to. 

I hope we have fewer gray days this winter than last winter. Last winter was one of the worst in memory, and I'm not the only one who feels that way. Many Norwegians I know feel the same. It was a cold, icy, snowy and gray winter that began in mid-October. This year we've been lucky; we've had a mild autumn, with temperatures around 50 degrees F throughout most of October and well into November. It's only really the last week or so that temperatures have dipped below freezing. Today we were back up to around 50 degrees F. 

Whatever this winter brings, I'm prepared. I bought several down-like vests, a new long outer down-like coat with a hood, new studded boots so that I can walk on the ice (I can flip the studs in and out as needed), and thermal gloves. But I'm still hoping for a mild winter with very little snow. I can't do much about the darkness though. 

Caring for the birds in winter

The natural world keeps our hearts and minds calm and sane. In this poem, it is a crow that changes the mood of the observer, who is having a bad day. The simple act of shaking snow down onto the observer saves the rest of his otherwise bad day from being a total loss. Nature has a way of doing that. Of course the crow has no way of knowing that nor did it shake down the snow deliberately. Birds are interesting creatures that open a window onto the natural world. I love watching them in the garden during the summer months, as I've written about before. So many different birds--sparrows, magpies, crows, small robins, blue tits, bullfinches--the list is long. Sometimes seagulls show up, but not often. 

This winter, I'm going to go to the garden every other day to feed the birds. I haven't done that before, although I do feed the birds that land on the balcony outside our kitchen window. Those birds are mostly pigeons, although we do get a few magpies and sparrows too. They all love sunflower seeds. I bought a nice and presumably sturdy standing bird feeder station on Amazon (where else do you get such a wide selection?) and am waiting for it to be delivered. I'll find a good place for it in the garden once I get it. Here is a link to the feeder if anyone else is interested in buying something similar: Urban Deco Bird Feeding Station With Feeders - Bird Feeders Hanging Station Heavy Duty Bird Feeder Pole With Bird Feeders For Small Birds - Bird Feeder Stand With Bird Bath Tray And Bird Feeder Tray : Amazon.co.uk: Garden

Caring for the birds in winter is important for so many reasons. They are little creatures who grace our lives with their beauty and their antics. They make us laugh, but they also make us ponder nature's ways. A world without birds, without their squawking and chirping and singing, would be a dead world. They make us forget ourselves, forget our trials and tribulations, for a few moments. It is worth taking care of them just for that alone. 

Reflections on the two greatest commandments

I reflected on this passage from the New Testament yesterday, which was the gospel reading at mass, after listening to the priest's sermon yesterday morning. 

Matthew 22:36–40

[36] “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” [37] And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. [38] This is the great and first commandment. [39] And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. [40] On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” 

In these unsettling days of political rancor and vitriol, I thought about what the first commandment means for each of us. The priest said it best. It means that every aspect of our daily lives is infused with a love of God. Every aspect. That means that we live aligned with the precepts of God. We live aligned with the life of Jesus. It is the goal of our short life on this earth. It was the way that the priest said it that made me sit up and take notice. Every aspect of our life should be infused with an awareness of God, in the sense that what we are doing at any given moment could be an opportunity for the recognition of God in our lives. God is in the wings of our daily activities. God is the background, God shows us how to love. It means being aware, awake, having a good heart, being kind, humble, and respectful, and willing to serve others, because by being all these things, we show our love for God and for ourselves. That makes possible the second commandment, to love our neighbors as ourselves. Because it is not possible to love others without first loving God and then ourselves. That love of self is what provides the basis for all other earthly love. Love of God comes first, and because God loves us, we can love ourselves, and can thus love our neighbors. 

We are not loving God, ourselves, or our neighbors when we promote hatred and deliberately seek turmoil, when we are instigators of hate and vitriol in our lives and the lives of others. I have known a number of Catholics up through the years who felt that their church attendance on Sundays made them good Catholics. The other six days of the week they could do and say as they liked. They could make racist statements, be foul-mouthed, could behave unethically at work if necessary (the ends justify the means), and could be aggressive, domineering and even violent toward family members. I cannot presume to know the mind of God, but I have a hard time as a human being understanding that church attendance alone made them good Catholics. Yet I've never, in all my years of church attendance, heard this theme discussed in a sermon. Why? Why are priests afraid to take up this topic? Nowadays, the same can be said for the anti-abortionists; if you are anti-abortion, you are a good Catholic/Christian. But if you are against social welfare plans for taking care of young children in need, elderly people in need, sick people and disabled people in need, when you criticize sick people for being lazy, where are your Christian values then? Doesn't being pro-life mean being pro-all life? 

My father used to quote GK Chesterton, who said that The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried. My father passed away nearly forty years ago, and my mother over twenty years ago. They were both Christian people who tried in the best way they knew how to instill Christian values in their children. They never had much money, never owned a home, and were never the top dogs in the workplace. But they were good, solid people, with solid values and kind hearts. I cannot ever remember them verbally attacking people of other races and creeds. They were not foul-mouthed people. They were generous and hospitable and literate, interested in good books and good conversation. Were they perfect? No. But they were people who were aware of the presence of God in their daily lives. I've written a lot about my parents through the years and will continue to do so. They are my inspiration when it comes to living a Christian life. 

The four important F's

My friend Cindy, who is a retired minister, sends me different spiritual and inspirational reflections as she comes across them and thinks I might like them. She sent me this little piece of wisdom a few weeks ago that I've shared further with other friends. It's essentially a statement of what is important in life, lest we forget at times. 

FAITH, FAMILY, FRIENDS, FITNESS

Basically all the things we need to have a good life, not a good materialistic life, but a good spiritual life. Again, no judgment as far as materialism goes, but when we have all we need in that department and still feel unfulfilled, why is that? It's what Matthew Kelly calls 'the want beyond the want'. We want more than a materialistically-comfortable life. We want a family that we love and that loves us, likewise good friends whom we love and who love us. And then there is our faith in God, which underlies all of the other things. Our faith shows us the importance of real love for others, and for ourselves. Our bodies should reflect self-care, not in an obsessive way, but in a respectful way. Don't abuse, overuse, or overdo anything that could harm the body. Physical fitness goes hand in hand with mental and spiritual fitness. It's a good place to start to get in touch with what we really want. God gives us all we need to get started. We simply have to pay attention to the call, to get outdoors, to walk, to appreciate the beauty of nature, to do something that gives us balance and peace. We have to have faith that we are important to others and to God. We are. 

September in New York

My annual trip to New York this year was taken a bit later than usual. I normally travel during the last week of August/first week of September, but this year, in connection with a high school reunion that was scheduled for Saturday September 21st, I arrived in New York on September 18th. My friend Judy, who lives in Oregon, also planned to attend the reunion, so we decided to meet in Manhattan for two days before heading north for our reunion. We stayed at the Warwick Hotel on West 54th Street, where I stayed last year when I met my friend Cindy who flew in from Illinois for a visit. On the first day of our two days together, Judy and I walked the 1.45 mile-long High Line (Visitor Info | The High Line) in perfect weather--sunny and warm, and then walked down to the Memorial (The Memorial | National September 11 Memorial & Museum (911memorial.org) at the site of the former World Trade Center Twin Towers, where we visited the Pools and then the Oculus (Oculus Transportation Hub | World Trade Center (officialworldtradecenter.com). The following day we walked through Central Park starting at Columbus Circle and exited at East 79th Street in order to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where we spent the better part of an afternoon. In the evening, we went to see the biographical musical Hamilton at the Richard Rodgers Theater on West 46th Street, which was superb. I had been a bit sceptical about seeing it because there was a lot of rapping, but suffice it to say that it blew me away--both music and lyrics. When we exited the theater and walked back to the hotel via Times Square, we were both amazed at the vibrancy, energy and life of the city and of the people hanging around there. It brought to mind the old saying--New York is the city that never sleeps. That seemed to be the case at around 11 pm on a Friday night in September. 

Our high school reunion on Saturday proved to be an enjoyable one; of the one hundred or so students we graduated with, about twenty-five attended the afternoon brunch that was held at a restaurant in Yonkers. It was fun to catch up with everyone, although three hours was too short a time to really talk in depth with everyone. I don't know if there will be future reunions; I doubt it, but who knows? At least ten of our classmates have passed away in the intervening years. It's hard to believe it's been fifty years since we all graduated from high school. 

After the reunion, I had lunch at Harvest on Hudson (Harvest on Hudson | Italian Restaurant in Hastings, New York (harvesthudson.com) with my friends Gordon and Mary-Ann, both of whom I know from my Memorial Sloan-Kettering Days, and spent some time with Jola, also from my Memorial Sloan-Kettering Days. I also managed to meet Stef for lunch at Horsefeathers (Home | horsefeathers (horsefeathersny.com) in Tarrytown. Horsefeathers has been around since 1981 and was the site of many a get-together with family and friends when I lived in New York. And then I spent the remainder of my time in New York at my second home--Jean's house. I always look forward to being there. Maria came down from Albany and we all hung out together as we love to do. We made a trip to the small town of Pawling in upstate New York, had lunch there and then wandered around the small shops. The following day we spent the afternoon with Maria's sister Margarete and her son Zac. I always return to Oslo from New York in a happy frame of mind and with a lot of energy to spare. That's because I am together with close friends and family. Just being together with people who truly know and love you is a gift from God. I know that's true because our get-togethers are blessed with grace, understanding, peace, and love. We love each other in the best possible way--acceptance of who we are, where we are in life, what we believe in, and genuine wishes for the others' happiness and wellbeing. I've said it before many times, but I'll say it again--I cannot imagine my life without my close friends. God has been good to me and I am grateful for them. 

I'll post some photos of my trip in my next post. 

Thoughts and prayers and reflections on mass school shootings

The recent Georgia shooting once again has shifted the focus off the victims and onto the shooter--Colt Gray--a teenage boy with a disastrous home life. Yes, he had a terrible upbringing. But not everyone who has such an upbringing finds a gun and kills his or her peers and teachers. And while I'm commenting on these types of shootings, has it ever occurred to anyone that the majority of shooters are teenage boys and not girls? I'm not sure why this is. 

What kind of father buys a mentally-troubled son an automatic rifle (AR15) for Christmas? An evil father is the answer. If you read M.Scott Peck's People of the Lie: The Hope for Healing Human Evil, you'll find that he describes such a family--parents who bought their (suicidal) son a gun for Christmas. They were all in therapy with Peck for some reason, but Peck described the parents as evil for essentially placing an instrument of death into their son's hands. As if to say to him, 'feel free to kill yourself'. The book was published in 1983, before the age of social media and school shootings. Peck found dealing with the parents very unsettling and held out little hope for the possibility that they could change. The entire case bothered him enough to write about it. 

The father of the Georgia shooter has stated that he bought his son a gun because he wanted him to stop playing video games and get outdoors. I can think of a hundred other ways for him to entice his son to spend time outdoors--teach him how to swim, boat, surf, camp, golf, ride a motorcycle, grow his own food, etc. There are a myriad of activities that this teenager could have participated in, but no, it had to be hunting animals for sport, which in my book is already questionable. Why do you need to shoot animals for sport, and why do you need an automatic rifle to kill them? Why make a hunter out of someone who has an unstable home life and personality to boot? Because you yourself are an unstable and aggressive individual with anger issues. It's only natural to pass that along to your children and to defend doing so. 

If I were the parents of murdered schoolchildren, I would be furious if someone offered me 'thoughts and prayers' in response to losing my children. There are too many thoughts and prayers, and while it's fine to pray for the victims of tragedies, it's not enough. Not for the parents and families of the dead. Not for the parents and families of all of the 50 dead individuals from all of the school shootings this year alone. Fifty people dead because young people who should never had access to guns, got access to guns. But God forbid we change the laws and make it nearly impossible for them to get access.

One possible solution? When parents buy a gun and have children in the home, they should have to sign a statement saying that they will be responsible for use of said gun by their children, should that happen. They will be legally and financially responsible for any injuries and/or deaths caused by said gun if fired by their children. Families of the victims should be able to sue the gun owners and the gun store owners in order to receive reparations. Only when we begin to force parents who are gun owners to ante up, will there begin to be some changes.