An interesting perspective on toxic people

"Not all toxic people are cruel and uncaring. Some of them love us dearly. Many of them have good intentions. Most are toxic to our being simply because their needs and way of existing in the world force us to compromise ourselves and our happiness. They aren’t inherently bad people, but they aren’t the right people for us. And as hard as it is, we have to let them go. Life is hard enough without being around people who bring you down, and as much as you care, you can’t destroy yourself for the sake of someone else. You have to make your wellbeing a priority. Whether that means breaking up with someone you care about, loving a family member from a distance, letting go of a friend, or removing yourself from a situation that feels painful — you have every right to leave and create a safer space for yourself."

--Daniell Koepke (from the book Daring to Take Up Space)

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We've all found ourselves in situations created by toxic people. Many of us have lived in toxic situations for years before doing something about them. I know that includes me. Earlier in my life, I struggled with how I should deal with toxic people, people whose sole priority was themselves, no matter what. Letting go of them or of the behaviors that fed them, was very difficult but absolutely necessary. Every time I feel that I'm in the presence of what I call an emotional vampire, every time the alarm bells go off inside my head and heart so loudly that I cannot ignore them, I know it's time to establish boundaries and to prioritize my own wellbeing. Sometimes it takes many years to realize this. I am always happy when I meet someone who has figured this out in a much shorter amount of time than it took me. Being a nice person does not mean being a doormat for others, either in one's personal life or in one's work life. I cannot emphasize this enough. So I don't know if I agree with Koepke when she says that some toxic people love us dearly. If you don't understand yourself well enough to know that are behaving in ways that hurt others continually, then you don't really love others. In any case, I would say--distance yourself from toxic people or don't stay in personal or work situations that wear you down, destroy your self-esteem, or hurt you. Distance yourself from or don't stay with people who gaslight you, blame you for things that are not your fault, or tell you that you're not being your usual nice self. Turn on your heel and go. 

Books that influenced and changed my ways of thinking

I've been thinking about some of the books I've read that have had a profound and permanent influence on me, in the sense that they changed my way of thinking and looking at things. Perhaps I was psychologically ready for those changes at the time I read them. Nevertheless, these books provided a spur that was necessary at the time. Some of the changes set me on brighter, happier paths, while others ushered in an acknowledgment that the world could be a melancholy and evil place. Some helped me deal with issues that I was going through at the time I read them. There are twenty books on my list; I will write about five each over the next four posts. 

A Candle in Her Room by Ruth M. Arthur. A book from my pre-teen years that is impossible to forget. Written in 1966, it is the story of four generations of women who come into contact with an evil doll that has the capability of altering personalities and behavior. The evil behavior encompasses deceit, betrayal, manipulation, and lust for power. Looking back, I don't think this is a book for children, more for teenagers. But when I remember back to my pre-teen years, I think the book was an eye-opener. It was an introduction to the existence of evil in the world and it showed me that even those my age could have questionable motives and evil intentions. 

The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. A sci-fi novel, one of the first I ever read, that chronicles mankind's exploration and colonization of Mars. The sense of foreboding in some of the chapters, especially when humans first settle on Mars and meet the Martians, who seem at first to be welcoming, is palpable. One of the scenes I will always remember--the Martians had lured the humans into a false sense of security by being hospitable and recreating scenes of earthly life, but their actual plans for the humans were nefarious. An unsettling book that describes deceit and evil behavior, and a sense of foreboding--as in, what bad thing will happen now? 

 
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I've read the book and seen several movie versions of it. It is impossible not to be affected by the redemption of Ebenezer Scrooge from a heartless miser to a warm-hearted and generous old man after being visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, respectively. It is a classic in the truest sense of the word, a book that leaves one with the knowledge that forgiveness and personal redemption are possible and that there is always hope that good will prevail. 

Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy. The ending of this novel was like a punch in the stomach. I remember telling my father that Jude's life was the definition of injustice. How much despair and tragedy could one life contain? In Hardy's view, there were apparently no limits to the misery one life could contain. My friend Brendan read the book and wrote to me 'obscure, indeed'. Hardy uses the word 'obscure' to describe Jude; Jude was an unknown and relatively unimportant player in the society around him, to the women in his life, and to the universe at large. Unable to be with the woman he loved (Sue) and trapped into marriage by a woman who pretended to be pregnant and who did not love him (Arabella), Jude's fate was sealed. Arabella had no scruples (commits bigamy), Sue had too many (felt guilty for all her choices for happiness). Although Jude and Sue had some years of happiness living together, they paid for that happiness in tragic ways. Hardy's book is a rather despairing commentary on love, the institution of marriage, societal norms, and church laws, all of which could be and were twisted in this novel to bring about oppressive unhappiness. It's almost as though if you tried to choose happiness, you were doomed to fail, doomed to regret, doomed to feeling guilty about wanting to be happy in love and life. The novel also questions whether personal happiness and personal choice were really possible and whether personal fate is determined or undetermined. The novel's viewpoints challenged my ideas at the time about love, marriage and happy ever after. 

The Road Less Traveled by M.Scott Peck. The discovery of this book was life-changing for me. I've recommended it to so many people over the years. The wisdom contained within its pages is priceless. Peck was a psychiatrist and had seen and listened to a lot of patients; he subsequently wrote another book called People of the Lie, which fascinated and scared me since it dealt with people who live in the dark and shy away from the light--evil people, psychopaths, narcissists--the list is long. The Road Less Traveled is more for ordinary folk dealing with the problems and difficulties of life. As Peck clearly states 'Life is difficult'. I read it at a time of great upheaval in my own life, and it really did help to set me on a better path, because I realized that I could change, that change was possible if I took responsibility for my own life. It sounds cliched, but it's not. Peck's view is that real spiritual and intellectual growth take time, but you have to desire them. You have to choose to desire them and do the hard work required in order to achieve them. 

Sweet moments in time

Tonight on my way home from church, I thought of Paul, the older blind man I met in September on the train to Grand Central Station. He got on the train at Scarsdale if I remember correctly; his seeing-eye dog, a sweet black labrador, led the way onto the train from the platform and immediately started sniffing/looking about for a free seat. I was minding my own business when suddenly I felt a nudge under my right armpit (I was sitting in an aisle seat). It was a dog, but not just any dog. I was about to give up my seat when I saw that the seat opposite me was free, and the seeing-eye dog discovered that too. So they took that seat. When the conductor came around asking for tickets, Paul showed him his wallet, which must have contained some sort of monthly pass. The dog was at his feet, not blocking the aisle. It was apparent that they trusted each other and that they had traveled on the train before since the dog knew what to do.  

I didn't find out the man's name until we exited the train. I waited until most of our compartment had emptied out, and then I followed Paul and his dog off the train. I knew that he was going to wait for an MTA train rep to come and guide him to his connecting train because I heard him telling the conductor that he needed that kind of assistance. The conductor said he would arrange it. But I had already decided that I was going to wait with him until the rep showed up, if he wanted me to, because I wasn't sure how long it would take for the rep to arrive. Once we had exited the train, I spoke to Paul and told him that I would wait with him until the rep showed up if he wanted me to, and he said yes and thanked me. He asked me my name and I told him, and he told me his name was Paul. At this point the dog was sniffing and licking my fingers, so it was apparent that he trusted me. Paul commented on the similarity of our names--Paul and Paula--and that it was unusual. It was for sure. It was almost as though our meeting was meant to happen. 

I have a soft spot in my heart for the blind, I always have. I remember my mother telling us children that her mother went blind in her old age, probably from glaucoma, since there was no treatment for it back in the 1940s (her mother died in the early 1950s). My mother lived with her mother and took care of her until her death. She told us that they would walk to church together, my mother guiding her along the sidewalk. Sometimes the events that occurred were humorous, other times not. My mother seemed to take it all in stride, as did her mother. I know people now who are losing their vision, or who had neurological diseases that robbed them of their sight. Macular degeneration, glaucoma, retinitis pigmentosa. It must be difficult to have spent most of your life seeing, and then suddenly lose your vision when you get old. Luckily our society has organizations that help the blind. I support those organizations, one of which is the Norwegian Association Of The Blind (Norges Blindeforbund). They recently built a new school for the training of seeing-eye dogs. 

I'm glad I met Paul and his dog. It made my day. A sweet moment in time that touched my heart for always. 

 

Odds and ends

We're watching The Rockford Files these days, one of the better American tv detective series from the 1970s that ran from 1974 to 1980. I remember watching it sporadically back then; my mother was a fan of the show and of James Garner who played private detective Jim Rockford, and sometimes I watched it with her. Here in Norway it's available for streaming on SkyShowtime. We're only seven episodes into the first season, and the guest stars have been Lindsey Wagner, Susan Strasberg, Sian Barbara Allen, Gretchen Corbett, Roger Davis, James Woods--all actresses and actors I remember well from the 1970s and 1980s. 

Last night we watched Where Eagles Dare, an action-packed WWII thriller from 1968 starring Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. I'd never seen it before, and it was well-worth watching. Pretty amazing scenes--fighting atop a cable car, climbing up the side of a castle--definitely not what you see everyday. It made me realize that some of the action films with Bruce Willis were definitely influenced by films such as this one. James Bond films as well. Enjoyable to watch, even though the body count in Where Eagles Dare was over the top. You don't forget for one minute that you're dealing with Nazi Germany and that the enemy has to be vanquished. 

I am drawn more and more to the older films and series, possibly because they are more enjoyable to watch than many of the newer films, even if they are less realistic. And if they deal with dark subject matter, they still manage not to sink into a morass of despair. I watch them and can then let them go after they're finished. I don't know if that's good or bad in the context of war films, but there are plenty of the latter that will leave you in a despairing frame of mind for a long time afterward. I watch them too, but it's hard to say I enjoy them. I can comment on them as quality films, well-acted films, etc. Realistic films. Where Eagles Dare is not a realistic film by any stretch of the imagination. In the same vein, we watched A Haunting in Venice two nights ago, Kenneth Branagh's new Agatha Christie film about Poirot who is now retired and living in Venice Italy. He is pulled out of retirement by an author friend of his to solve a presumed murder (that end up being multiple murders) in a spooky old house in Venice. Fun to watch, and again, the dark subject matter doesn't bring you down. I don't know how Agatha Christie did it, but she managed to write entertaining books about murders and murderers. Much like Dorothy Sayers. Both had a way of writing that drew you into the novels without burying you. 

Winter arrived early this past Monday. No one I know was ready for it psychologically. Too soon for snow and accumulation. Luckily most of the snow has melted due to the steady rain that we've had for the last twenty-four hours. But this has been the year for windiness. It seems like the wind has blown continually this year. I wish it would stop and I wish that the sun would shine more. But we're living in the era of climate change, so I'm not sure I can wish for anything of the sort.

Halloween was fun for the kids this year. But of course we always have the killjoys and the sourpusses, the ones who can't and won't let anyone off the hook for having a bit of fun. God forbid you should have some fun. How many articles I've read by young people/parents who criticize that 'American' Halloween has arrived in Norway and appears to have settled into the October repertoire. They resent having to spend money on costumes and candy. For the first, Halloween isn't originally an American holiday, but I'm not going to be bothered to get into that aspect of it. A young man I worked with years ago, who was studying to become a doctor, referred to some of his fellow students as people who walked around with rods up their rear ends. That's how I view some of the killjoys--stiff, uptight, unable to just 'let it go'. If they don't like it, no one else should, and by extension, no one else should be able to enjoy it.

Why can't more people just 'let it go' or 'live and let live?' Our society comments ad nauseam about everything under the sun. The more that gets criticized, the more I want to uphold and support all that gets criticized. I'm 'trassig' (defiant in English) that way. And I intend to remain defiant. 

And finally, I've switched off the ability to comment on my blog posts again due to a troll that leaves disturbing comments. Notice I refer to the troll as a 'that'. Not a 'who'. You never know these days. It could just be a robot or a non-human posing as a human. I thought I had set the filters correctly, perhaps I didn't. But if it's a human doing it, that person is an 'it' in my book. In any case, it's now a moot point. No more comments. 

Saying goodbye to Gisele

My longtime friend since childhood, Gisele, passed away yesterday. She was sixty-six years old and had suffered with a degenerative neurological disease called multiple system atrophy for the past nine years. She was hospitalized this past weekend for Covid but in her weakened state due to her illness, was not able to recover from it. Since her diagnosis in 2014, we have tried to talk every Sunday, and for the most part, have managed to do so. We talked a lot about her situation and her feelings, my feelings and the feelings of friends and family. We talked about life, work, retirement, and traveling. She loved to travel and probably would have bought an apartment in Paris if she hadn't become ill. Her father was born in France and she had a special affinity for the country. 

Before she became ill, we traveled together and had fun together, with trips to Paris and Dublin among some of the more memorable trips. When her illness reached the point where it impaired her ability to drive, I would drive her around Westchester and we would revisit the haunts of our youth. She was an incredibly honest and open person and I learned a lot from her. Candid is the word I would use to describe her. She did not waste time, either hers or other's; her life and the lives of others mattered. She valued others. She chose her words and her advice carefully, but if something needed to be said, she could say it. I've known her for most of my life. We grew up together in the same neighborhood; she lived right around the corner. When we were teenagers, we hung out at her house after dinner during the summer months, talking and laughing and listening to WPLJ, the radio station with all the major pop and rock hits of the day. Her parents were welcoming and hospitable, much like mine. Her grandmother (father's mother) lived with them and had a black dog named Fluffy, who would go crazy with happiness when he met you at the door. Her father had a great sense of humor, which sometimes annoyed Gisele if his joking got too close for comfort. When I moved to Norway, he would sometimes greet me with 'How is it up there in Iceland'? He knew perfectly well where I lived, but he made me laugh, and she did too. How many times we talked about boyfriends, how many times we met in Manhattan to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, after which we would go to the museum restaurant to eat dessert and drink coffee. She and I had differing views about going to discos; I loved to go and dance, she did not. I know I dragged her to some discos a few times before she decided she didn't want to go anymore. As we got older, we talked about work problems (she was an elementary school teacher, I was a researcher). It was interesting that despite different work environments, many of the problems were the same--idiotic bosses, backbiting, gossiping colleagues. She never married or had children, mostly because she never met the right man with whom to have a family. We had our differences, but during a friendship that spanned over fifty years, one might expect that. She was honest about her own failings, even though it took some time to admit to them, as it does for us all. At her core she was a seeker of spiritual things, and I have some wonderful books that she gave me through the years that attest to that. I will miss her for always.  

My eulogy for Gisele: 

It’s been a long journey for Gisele, a journey into the mostly unknown. We who loved her joined her on that journey, offering support as best we could. Multiple system atrophy. MSA. No one had ever heard about it before or knew anything about it. But Gisele dealt with this new event in her life the way she dealt with most things—with courage and strength. She was brave and honest with herself and others. She was not afraid to talk about her illness, to research it, or to try different ways of tackling it. She knew that no ready cure for it existed, but she discovered that she could slow its progression if she made certain dietary adjustments, and she did and it worked for some time.

Today we have come to the end of one journey and the beginning of another. Gisele had faith, she prayed, and she believed in a heaven that existed for the faithful. During the past year, she told me that she was ready to meet God, and I know that she is with God and her parents now. There is so much I could say about her, about her love and loyalty and caring for others, about her sense of humor (inherited from her father) and her laugh. She was not her illness and she was adamant about that. She didn’t want to focus on what the illness had taken away from her, even though she grieved each loss while trying to accept them. But she lived in the present and chose not to focus on the past. She has a forever place in my heart.

Keeping us fearful, keeping us divided

I am getting to the point where I almost loathe all television news channels, especially the ones that broadcast 24/7. Every time one of them is on in my house, the ire, the fury, the doom, the gloom (and sometimes the naivete) pervade the atmosphere. I would mostly choose not to watch them, and for the most part, I don't. But it's not always my choice. News channels are basically purveyors of fear. The interviewers and interviewees don't help matters. By the time a half-hour news show has come to an end, it is easy to conclude that the world is a complete mess. That the world is going to hell in a handbasket. That no one knows how to behave anymore with respect--for their fellow man, the elderly, the young--take your pick. That everything was better when we were young (some things were because we weren't inundated with garbage from tv and social media 24/7), but not all things. 

We don't have to watch the news. We can read about what is going on in the world in newspapers, where we can choose to read the articles we want. The key word is choose. The better newspapers still have fairly well-researched articles that give some background about world conflicts, key issues, etc. I would rather read one excellent article about a particular political conflict (in the NY Times or The New Yorker) than watch tv news shows give me their opinions ad nauseam on who is the transgressor or the aggressor, the victimizer or the victim. I just want the background and the facts and I'll make up my own mind. I don't want the opinions of the newscasters, I want the news, without all the interviews that don't shed any light on the issues at hand. I don't want tv newscasters lecturing to me or screaming at me in an effort to brainwash me. Yelling at me to 'think like me' or 'think like my tv station that is paying me millions of dollars to feed you untruths and garbage' (think Tucker Carlson). The more I am pummeled by such idiocy, the stronger my stance that it is such programming that is ruining the world--for ratings and for money. If there is a hell, I hope that the people who promote such programming end up there.  

My question is--what is gained by keeping us, the public, fearful and divided? Do we tune in more to these news shows because of fear? What is it we fear? The unknown? The darkness in humanity? Are we missing out on the latest atrocities, the latest who did what or said what to whom? Do we need to feel 'alive' by tuning in? Does that give people a thrill? Do we like conflict and division? Do we need to have an enemy? Do we need to feel fear in order to keep our lives from getting or being boring? I think for many people, the news is about 'what happens over there', 'outside my sphere'. So we can think, how horrible, what's going on over there. But it's not happening here, so I can relax. I can feel consoled. I can continue to live in my little bubble. I can't do anything about what is going on elsewhere except be a voyeur, a spectator (willing or not). Then I can turn the tv off and go about my life until the next time I sit down for my dose of appalling. Perhaps better not to tune in at all. Because we need to live, to go about our lives with the awareness that yes, bad things can happen, but we cannot live in paralyzing fear. We can choose to be aware of what we let into our minds, be aware of what is going on in the world without being brainwashed or intimidated, take the necessary precautions, and then choose to live. That is the healthier choice. 

Pay it forward--a little prayer

When I was in New York at the beginning of September, I reconnected with a college friend whom I haven't seen in years. We met in Manhattan and spent two happy days visiting the JP Morgan library, eating well, and catching up. She is a former minister (now happily retired), and has always read inspirational literature that she likes to share with others. This time around she passed on a book to me entitled The Only Little Prayer You Need by Debra Landwehr Engle. She'd read it and wanted me to have it. I've always been fairly skeptical of books that promise happiness, abundance, and wealth, if only you do this or that. But I gave this one a try because my friend recommended it. It was an easy read and had some interesting points to make, among them that many of our thoughts during an average day are fear-based (rather than love-based), leading us to behave in ways that keep ourselves protected, but still scared. But the flip side of choosing that protection is to choose a fear-based life. In other words, we're not living our lives in the fullest way possible, because if we choose how we act out of fear, we limit ourselves. It really is that simple. So the little prayer she shares is the following: 'Please heal my fear-based thoughts'. 

I got to thinking about the fears we live with each day. Mine often include worrying about some event several months in the future that I have planned or am planning, or to which I have been invited. I worry that I won't manage to get it all done, that something will happen to put a monkey wrench in the planning or execution, or that I won't really enjoy the show/party/dinner etc. to which I've been invited. There's a small little voice egging me on saying--stay home. I ignore it mostly, but it's there. Other fears include worrying about not having enough time to do the things I want to do, about my health issues or worrying about the health issues of loved ones, worrying that I'm not living up to my obligations, feeling guilty about that, or feeling guilty about a host of other things that I won't go into here, but that often have to do with what (I perceive) other people think and feel about something I'm doing (or not doing). Not being able to (or not really wanting to) live up to the expectations of others is a fear, a wholly irrational one, since I have been the dutiful child, student, employee, partner etc. for my entire life. I meet others' expectations and sometimes go beyond them, especially when I was working. I don't think I've ever been a slacker during my entire work life, or in my life generally. What surprises me is that the fear of not wanting to be a slacker has been a motivating and driving force my entire life. In that context, I wonder if I've ever really understood the word 'relaxation'. I have one friend who always tells me that I look so relaxed now that I've retired. I've never really thought about it, because in my mind, I retired from my job as a scientist, but I've filled my days with writing and other things that continue to drive me and to occupy my mind. The to-do list is long, even though I no longer work at a formal job. Sometimes I think, no wonder I'm tired half the time. I don't allow myself to really relax. I should, but I know it won't be easy to unlearn some ways of thinking. 

Engle lists some of the fear-based thoughts/feelings we all have and deal with--abandonment, feeling not good enough, guilt, judgment, conformity, control (not only over people but in terms of having to have things a certain way), need for power, jealousy, meanness, irritation, anger, pessimism, shame, scarcity--the list is long. She doesn't say that these thoughts/feelings are bad in and of themselves. It's when they get control over us that they become problematic. None of us are exempt from feeling them; it's part of the human condition. But they can interfere with having a peaceful and serene life--a happy life. Engle doesn't define happiness in terms of material wealth or the absence of pain and suffering. 

The key is to catch yourself having the fear-based thoughts. Once you can learn to be aware of them, you can begin the process of choosing thoughts that are rooted in love. Love-based thoughts/feelings as she describes them are acceptance, compassion, forgiveness, generosity, kindness, playfulness--among many others. But of course we're talking about a daily exercise--saying the prayer--and letting in the change we want in ourselves. I doubt it's easy. Since I finished her book, I've been trying to stay aware of my thoughts that are rooted in fear and saying the prayer in that moment. It's interesting to say the least. I am passing the book on to another woman whom I think might benefit from reading it. Pay it forward is a love-based thought (the recipient is free to read the book or not read it). Engle's overall point is that if all of us acted more on our love-based thoughts rather than fear-based thoughts, it would (perhaps) result in a better world, a more peaceful world. And given the current world situation, that might not be such a bad idea. 

Picking up the apples

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and being alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You have to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes too near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could. 

~Louise Erdrich  (from her book: The Painted Drum)

I am also literally reminded of how much fruit goes to waste in the community garden: apples, pears, plums, berries. There is bounty all around us, provided by nature, and so many people ignore it. Why? Why do we take these gifts for granted? I'll never understand it. It's hard work to pluck the fruit and to process it in different ways, but so rewarding when you take stock some weeks later of how much fruit you've managed to freeze down, make jams and jellies from, conserve (spiced pears come to mind, or plums in rum), or eat. Thanksgiving Day takes on a whole new meaning for me when I realize how much the early settlers depended on the bounty of the land for their survival. So while the analogy above is about apples as opportunities to live one's life in the most meaningful way possible, the actuality of picking up the apples also provides us with food to keep us alive. When you see how apples are produced, you will be less inclined to waste them by letting them lie on the ground or hang unpicked in the trees. And the reality of the bounty given to us will usher in new ways of looking at our life here on earth. So then we won't waste our lives or the bounty given us. 

Wise words about aging

It has become clear to me that aging itself does not bring wisdom. It often brings regression to childishness, dependency, and bitterness over lost opportunities. Only those who are still intellectually, emotionally, spiritually growing inherit the richness of aging. 

--James Hollis 

(excerpted from the book What Matters Most: Living a More Considered Life)

The freedom of the open road

I've been thinking about how good it felt to drive on the open highways of Pennsylvania and New York on my recent trip to the US. I normally don't enjoy driving too much anymore; I've done so much of it up through the years, and it was mostly stressful. I don't enjoy driving in Oslo at all, for so many reasons that I won't go into in this post. And driving into Manhattan from NJ during the 1980s in order to get to work was stomach-churning stress. Back then, there were no cell phones, so it was impossible to let anyone know where you were stuck in traffic or why you were going to be late. But that was then; now is another story. 

After visiting my sister in Milford PA, which is not far from Port Jervis NY, I left early in the morning, had toast and coffee for breakfast at a diner right outside Milford, and then got on the road in my little red Kia Soul. A great little car--solid, stable and comfortable to drive. It handled well and got good gas mileage. Driving early in the morning was a pleasant experience, especially on beautiful NY summer days like the one that I had the day I was driving. There are a lot of rolling hills and forested areas in that area of PA and NY. Very pretty, made more so by the early morning mist that was slowly driven away by the sun that was warming up the day. Blue skies, a few puffy clouds, and very few cars on the road at that time, at least on 84 and Route 6. By the time I merged onto 87, the traffic had picked up but the day was still lovely. But it didn't seem to matter, as I was relaxed. There was something about starting the driving day in that lovely corner of the world that made me feel free. Like the world was open for exploration. 

It was that feeling of freedom that has stayed with me since that early morning drive. It made me want to take a long cross-country trip, something I've never done. After high school, I went straight to college, and after college, to graduate school. From there, to work. I've never had or taken any sort of long break. I never felt the need to; I was too eager to start my career and to experience that part of life. And I did, over many years. I feel different now; I feel as though my life ahead is an open road, ready for exploration. It's a wonderful feeling. 

 

Back in the USA

Back in the USA during the first two weeks of September. My traveling plans this time around included visits with friends I haven’t seen in years. My first visit was with an old college friend, Cindy, whom I met many years ago in the modern dance class we took together. We became friends and ended up choreographing several dances for the end-of-year recitals that were open to the public. She and her husband have visited us in Oslo, but that’s a while ago now. We toured the JP Morgan library in Manhattan (she wanted to visit the library because she, like many tourists there the day we visited, had read the two recent books about Morgan's personal librarian, a woman named Belle da Costa Greene, who happened to be a black woman). After we visited the library, we walked to the High Line so that she could experience it, and then we went to see The Vessel, which is a unique and beautiful artistic structure located on the west side of Manhattan. We walked at least five miles that day in 93 degree F heat. It was good to get back to our hotel (the lovely Warwick Hotel) to relax and cool off. 

After I said goodbye to Cindy at Penn Station in Manhattan, I took an Amtrak train to Boston to visit my theology professor from Fordham University who just happens to be a (semi-retired from teaching but not from writing) Jesuit priest. He is in his early eighties, is living in the Boston suburbs at a retirement home, and is as intellectually active as ever. I stayed in a very pleasant guest room at the center (they have accommodations for guests), attended a 6:30 am mass in the center’s chapel together with many elderly priests (a very touching experience), and otherwise enjoyed some really rewarding conversations with my former teacher. I had so many questions for him, and surprisingly, he had some for me as well. I realized that there is more that unites us in this life than divides us. He chose a different path (no marriage and family) but an interesting one. As I get older, I am more curious about my faith, not less, and he answered some of my questions. It was good to see him after all these years. We have kept in touch by letters and emails for many years, but hadn’t seen each other until now, and I don’t know if I will see him again.

From Boston, I traveled onward by bus to Albany NY where my friend Maria lives. Jean drove up from Westchester, and we spent the weekend together, hanging out, talking, and eating well. We managed a trip to Herkimer to take a boat trip on the Erie Canal, something that I’ve always wanted to do, especially after I watched the NY Adventure Club’s virtual lecture about the history of the canal. I’ve written about that in previous posts (A New Yorker in Oslo: The Erie Canal: A Story of Building the Impossible--a New York Adventure Club webinar (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com) and A New Yorker in Oslo: The film--The Farmer Takes A Wife, from 1935 (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). 

Jean and I returned to her house for a couple of days, which I always look forward to; her house is like my second home and she is like family to me. I met her two new grandchildren for the second time, which was very nice. She and I met up with a biology teacher from our high school who is in her early eighties and who has dyed her short close-cropped hair a muted shade of purple. I don’t remember her as being a funny woman, but she is. We met for lunch in NJ together with another friend, Stef, who also attended the same high school (Our Lady of Victory in Dobbs Ferry NY).

From there I drove onward to the Milford PA area to get together with my sister Renata and her husband Tim. We enjoyed some nice days together just relaxing, and then I drove back to the Westchester area to visit my friend Gisele for an afternoon. She is unfortunately quite ill and tires easily. But it was wonderful to see her.

This has been my traveling year; my hoped-for goal was to visit with friends whom I’ve not seen in a while, and I've managed to do that. In December, I will meet up with another friend, Haika, whom I haven’t seen since 2010. We're planning to meet in Dresden Germany in order to visit the Striezelmarkt Christmas market there. It’s apparently the oldest one in Europe (Dresdner Striezelmarkt (dresden.de). I'm looking forward to experiencing it with her, as she's wanted to visit this market for quite a long time. 

I'm enjoying my travels here and there and want to do more traveling in Europe as well as the USA. I’m always amazed by the vastness of the USA and how things really do function fairly well in spite of that vastness. Some people tell me they are now content to stay in one place and not travel. Perhaps I will say that in ten years or so, but not now. 

Wise words from Donna Ashworth

10 THINGS TIME HAS TAUGHT ME

1. Most of our life is spent chasing false goals and worshipping false ideals. The day you realize that is the day you really start to live.

2. You really, truly cannot please all of the people all of the time. Please yourself first and your loved ones second, everyone else is busy pleasing themselves anyway, trust me.

3. Fighting the ageing process is like trying to catch the wind. Go with it, enjoy it. Your body is changing, but it always has been. Don’t waste time trying to reverse that, instead change your mindset to see the beauty in the new.

4. Nobody is perfect and nobody is truly happy with their lot. When that sinks in you are free of comparison and free of judgement. It’s truly liberating.

5. No one really sees what you do right, everyone sees what you do wrong. When that becomes clear to you, you will start doing things for the right reason and you will start having so much more fun.

6. You will regret the years you spent berating your looks, the sooner you can make peace with the vessel your soul lives in, the better. Your body is amazing and important but it does not define you.

7. Your health is obviously important but stress, fear and worry are far more damaging than any delicious food or drink you may deny yourself. Happiness and peace are the best medicine.

8. Who will remember you and for what, become important factors as you age. Your love and your wisdom will live on far longer than any material thing you can pass down. Tell your stories, they can travel farther than you can imagine.

9. We are not here for long but if you are living against the wind it can feel like a life-sentence. Life should not feel like a chore, it should feel like an adventure.

10. Always, always, drink the good champagne and use the things you keep for ‘best’. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one. Today is a gift, that’s why we call it the present. Eat, Drink & Be Merry.

Donna Ashworth

Quotes about letting go

The first half of life is devoted to forming a healthy ego, the second half is going inward and letting go of it. --Carl Jung

Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go. --Hermann Hesse

Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on. --Eckhart Tolle

Let go of certainty. The opposite isn’t uncertainty. It’s openness, curiosity, and a willingness to embrace paradox, rather than choose up sides. The ultimate challenge is to accept ourselves exactly as we are, but never stop trying to learn and grow. --Tony Schwartz

Creativity can be described as letting go of certainties. --Gail Sheehy

Courage is the power to let go of the familiar. --Raymond Lindquist

The world belongs to those who let go.  --Tao Te Ching

Everything I read about hitting a midlife crisis was true. I had such a struggle letting go of youthful things and learning how to exist and have enthusiasm while settling into the comfort of an older age. --David Bowie

Forgiveness means letting go of the past. --Gerald Jampolsky

For me, every single thing I do seems to be about the process of letting go because that's what I so desperately need to do with so many things: with fear, with what people think of me, and all these things I've worried about my whole life. --John Grant

There's a victory in letting go of your expectations. --Mike White

I think that what I have been truly searching for as a person, as a writer, as a thinker, as a daughter, is freedom. That is my mission. A sense of liberty, the liberty that comes not only from self-awareness but also from letting go of many things. Many things that weigh us down. --Jhumpa Lahiri

When you feel stuck in a hard time, jump-start a pro-change attitude by letting go of possessions that no longer work for you - like old clothes and old shoes. --Karen Salmansohn

Being deeply contented with God in my everyday life is a focused attitude. It is always available. It means practicing letting go of my obsession with how I'm doing. It means training myself to learn to actually be present with people, and seeking to love them. --John Ortberg

A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone. --Henry David Thoreau

 

Random reflections and observations

Politics. We're heading into a new presidential race that unsurprisingly enough feels like a repeat of four years ago. Biden versus Trump, unless each party comes up with a better candidate to represent them. I wish both men would retire quietly, without a lot of fanfare and chest beating, and leave the arena to new and younger blood. Although promising at one time, De Santis just doesn't make the grade; he seems like a mini-Trump sans the bravado and in-your-face aggressiveness. But he pales in Trump's shadow. If Trump wasn't in the picture, maybe he'd have half a chance. But I don't think he has what it takes to be president. Neither does Trump, for that matter. I cannot understand why anyone still supports Trump, but I've given up trying to figure people out. He's a national embarrassment and I can say that; I live abroad and I see the reactions of the European media to him. No one can figure out the Trump supporters. Many theories have been advanced as to why they support him, but there doesn't seem to be one defining thing that makes them like him. It's actually a bit scary. 

Society. I saw a meme on Facebook today "Forget world peace, just try visualizing using your turn signal when driving". That's about where it is for me. I suppose we need to aim high--world peace--but at this point, I'd settle for a return to common courtesy and common sense in society. It seems that the world is mired in greed, lack of ethics, lack of empathy, lack of respect, and lack of common sense. I see it every day here in Oslo. The rudeness in society is appalling; bicyclists who don't stop for pedestrians in the crosswalks, but who suddenly stop for no good reason in the bike lanes, causing those behind them to brake suddenly. One day there is going to be a major accident involving many cyclists. Bicyclists here are as thoughtless as many car drivers, but we're always hearing about how rude car drivers are, never how rude bicyclists are. That's because the Green Party here has to push its message, which is to bike in any and all circumstances. "Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail" should prevent the good Oslo citizen from biking. It borders on ridiculous. It's like the Green Party has forgotten that winter in this country is a good five to six months long. I don't understand their point of view and I never will. Some construction projects take years to plan, finalize and complete. Not so with bike paths; they are constructed and finished before you have the chance to take a breath. When they want something, nothing stands in their way--that's the motto of the Green Party. I have no problems with biking; I've been biking my entire life, since I was a child. But I won't bike in the wintertime, and I don't need fascist propaganda telling me to do just that. And as an 83-year old friend of mine recently commented--not everyone can or is able to bike, regardless of age. She's right. 

Religion. I attend mass on Saturday evenings/Sunday mornings hoping to find some peace and quiet that are conducive to contemplation and prayer. Not to be had. No matter what (purportedly sans music) mass I attend, the priest insists on singing some part of the mass. Unfortunately, about half of the priests who say mass cannot sing to save their lives, so it's both painful and irritating to listen to them. I stand in the pew and pray that my irritation dissipates, but it's a bit sad to find myself in that position at mass. I don't want to be thinking about my irritation at something that could be solved easily--just have one mass for those people who don't want priests and/or the congregation singing at them, who don't want to sing the entire mass or even parts of it. Just have a quiet mass, for heaven's sake. Is that too much to ask?

Friendship. In the final analysis, friendship is defined for me by who is there for you in good times and in bad. I have a small circle of lifelong friends without whom I couldn't imagine my life. They are in my heart forever. The rest are just acquaintances or work friends, and with a few exceptions, I cannot rely on them to be there for me. It's always been that way, but now that I'm retired, I see it more clearly. They do not prioritize getting together; they prioritize work and more work, anything that furthers the work cause. Now that I no longer work, we have less in common. If one relies on these types of people for friendship, one will be quite lonely. I don't, but I acknowledge the strangeness and clarity of it all. But suddenly, when they want to get together, they expect you to dance to their tune; they decide the time and place, you show up. Not all of them behave that way, of course. But accommodating their schedules doesn't work for me anymore. I used to do that, but no longer. My schedule is just as important as theirs, perhaps more so, because I have plenty to do now that I'm retired. They don't think so, however. So these types of relationships will eventually fade away. As will many other things, since life is about letting go.

Getting older. That leads me to the final observation--getting older means getting tougher in all ways. I'm simply not interested in wasting my time on people, situations, books, films, series etc. that give me nothing, that don't inspire me, that don't make my life better. I don't want to waste time doing things that I don't want to do, and that includes spending time with people who are sometimes nice and sometimes not. I want to spend time with people whose moods are for the most part stable, who are kind at heart, who have Christian values, and who are not rude or aggressive or passive-aggressive, or who try to gaslight you (as in, they never said or meant this or that, but they did say it and they did mean it). I want to spend time with people who are as interested in my life and what I'm doing as I am in theirs. I want to spend time with people with whom I can have a real and meaningful conversation. There is so little of the latter; it truly surprises me that more people don't miss having good conversations. I miss my parents and my brother, who were people I loved and with whom I could converse. Our times together were real, likewise our conversations. 

How you can change your world and the world around you

For all those who start their day by complaining--stop. Just stop. When you wake up, thank God for another day, get out of bed, and be glad that the only thing you have to deal with is a few minor aches and pains. Because that is not the case for a good number of people I know, who have different types of cancer of varying stages. Some will survive and some will not. They impress me with their will to just keep going, no matter what. They don't complain, or if they do, they do it privately. I know other people who have/had neurological diseases (multiple sclerosis, progressive parasupranuclear palsy, multiple systemic atrophy) that have taken/will take their lives. It's a slow gradual decline for most of them; they lose the ability to walk, to be mobile generally, to use their hands, to talk, to hold their heads up. It's terrible to watch people we love suffer in this way. I remember them each day and pray for them, as I try to do for all those I know who are seriously ill. 

Show real respect for others. Listen. Don't interrupt others at every turn. Give your undivided attention to a child who wants your attention, likewise to an adult who wants the same. We all want to be noticed by others, to be valued and confirmed by others. As Mother Teresa said, charity and love begin at home. What does it profit the world if we help the needy on the street and turn our backs on or ignore those who are closest to us? Don't yell at others or shout them down. Don't belittle others. Too many people do this, thinking that if they raise their voices, they will be heard better. Don't insist on being right all the time, even if you know you are. LET IT GO. What difference does it make if you were correct about some unimportant thing? Were the consequences dire? Most likely they weren't. But we love to be right, to feel that we are better than others. Sometimes we are glad that we 'win' over others. But at what cost? Because if we constantly belittle others, they pay it forward by belittling others, to get rid of that bad feeling they have about themselves. Guaranteed, if you feel bad about yourself, you will try to make others feel bad about themselves as well. It's human nature and is often the first response unless you remember that a higher power is looking out for you, so that you know you are loved and valued.

Don't derive your self esteem or your sense of happiness from social media, television, or any other technology that seeks to suck most of your waking hours from you. Put them in their place. Use them wisely, but let them go otherwise. They are not important. They are a source of entertainment, but there are many ways (perhaps better ways) to enjoy yourself. Read a good book or magazine, read something that inspires you to be a better person. Read. Think about what you read. Write about what you're thinking about and feeling, if you are so inclined. Share what you write with others if you are so inclined. Write a card or a letter to someone who would like to hear from you. Pick up the phone and make a call to someone who would like to hear from you.  

Believe in something larger than yourself--a higher power. It will give you perspective about yourself, a perspective that is sorely lacking in today's world. Find a religion, go to a church. Find yourself a  congregation, a group of people who share your beliefs. Keep it simple. Don't expect answers to the mysteries of life and death. Just BE, in the company of others. It is immensely comforting. 

Don't set out to change the world. Change yourself. As has been said before, be the change you want to see in others. If you change yourself, if you treat others with respect and kindness, it WILL make a difference in the world. Kindness and love are energies that induce the same in others, in the same way that unkindness and disrespect do. There is too much of the latter in the world. There has been a loss of personal boundaries that has led to a catastrophic disrespect for others, mostly due to social media and the hatred that is found there. I am appalled at times by the hatred I find there. I have begun to literally and figuratively walk away from all that is negative, destructive, or too dark because it brings the world closer to a hellish existence that benefits no one. 

Time as a wheel with spokes

Time is a strange thing. We experience it as linear, as a continual forward progression, and in a major sense it is. But it also seems circular to me--like a wheel with spokes. My experience with time is that it can be all-encompassing; it surrounds me, as though I am in the center of a circle from which spokes radiate out. At the end of those spokes are specific experiences that envelope me. The straight lines that are those spokes are the chronological events leading to those ends. But they could just as well be wavy spokes, or spokes with spikes poking out every which way. The spikes could be detours along the way or interesting experiences in and of themselves, leading to the ends. I think more and more that time is circular; that the individual experiences of each individual person are connected, that they radiate out from a center (the person in question) but that they meet and form the wheel of time that defines one person's life. The spikes may stick out in all directions from the spokes; they may be long or short. In this way we can interact with others during our lives. 

I wondered if others have pondered this view of time, so I googled 'time as a wheel with spokes' and the first link that was returned was the 'Wheel of Time' on Wikipedia (Wheel of time - Wikipedia). Apparently a number of religions subscribe to the concept of time as cyclical, including Hinduism, Jainism, Sikhism, and Buddhism. But I didn't really find any discussion of spokes and spikes. It seems to me that as we age, we accumulate more spokes, so that eventually the spokes begin to interact with each other, begin to touch each other, begin to crowd each other. Perhaps the spikes from each spoke meet the spikes from the other spokes and form 'ladders'. Perhaps that explains the feeling of being enveloped, of being surrounded by multiple experiences. Perhaps this is what is meant by the feeling that we have coexistent 'parallel lives'; not lives at all, but parallel experiences that eventually interact with each other or join each other. In this way, time seems to be more fluid. At least it doesn't feel solid to me; I don't experience it that way. 

I am curious (and always have been) about time because sometimes I experience what I call  'the ache across time'. The ache across time is the knowledge that somewhere out there is an experience of time that has touched us deeply, that has passed, that will never come again, but one that we remember perfectly. It is an ache for what will never come again in exactly that way--be it times together with loved ones, the experience of the beauty of the natural world, or a book or song that touches us. The ache is a part of us, ingrained in our time memory. We remember those times and experiences as though they happened yesterday. The spikes on our wheel spokes have interacted with the spikes of other people, floating in the vast expanse of the universe. Perhaps our wheels have attached to them via the spikes and become entangled. 

I like this view of time. It's intensely personal but interpersonal as well. It can account for that feeling of parallel lives, and can be modified to suit different situations. I asked Bing's AI chatbot to draw me a wheel with spokes that have spikes, but it really didn't return a satisfactory drawing. It did return four actual photos of wheels with spokes, but no spikes attached to the spokes. I'll have to work on drawing one myself. I'm not sure how the people in my life view time or if they reflect on it at all; I've had some interesting discussions with my husband about time some years ago, but mostly in regard to how time is viewed according to the theory of general relativity, which is not at all my forte. I think it's interesting, but I hit the wall immediately when I tried to understand the mathematics underlying the principles of physics. I am more comfortable residing in the realm of sci-fi and fantasy where such things are concerned. 

The Reluctant Valedictorian

When I was together with my high school friends at the beginning of June, the talk inevitably turned to our high school years and some of the memories we have from those times. For my part, I would say that high school was quite okay but not much more than that. I'm thankful that my friendships with Janet, Judy and Laura were strengthened during those years; we remain friends to this day and make an effort to talk to and visit each other. I spent most of my high school years observing what went on around me, perhaps in preparation for my career as a scientist, which involves a lot of observation. I was book smart but not very street smart, perhaps natural for that age. But it seemed to me that so many of my fellow students were much more street smart. That came later for me, once I was in college and got to experience the urban environment of Fordham University. 

Since I had the highest grades in my class, that led to my being the valedictorian. The privilege of being the valedictorian was that I got to deliver the valedictory--the farewell address to the graduating senior class. Suffice it to say that I did not look forward to holding this address at our graduation in front of hundreds of people--my classmates and their families. But I did it. One could say that I did it my way. I'm sure my speech irritated a number of parents who were politically conservative, since I chose to focus on Nixon and Watergate and the lack of ethics in politics. I said that I hoped that our graduating class would stand for ethical behavior in all we did in our future careers. I practiced that speech many times in front of my teachers, who were constructive in their criticism but who never told me that I couldn't say this or that. I'm glad that they allowed me to say what I wished to say, that I wasn't censored in any way. But still, I was reluctant to speak publicly--the reluctant valedictorian. 

The dislike of public speaking followed me throughout my scientific career. I got better at it, and some of my lectures were downright inspired. I always remembered the words of Eleanor Roosevelt: 'you must do the thing you think you cannot do'. So I did. I faced my fear of public speaking, but I never grew comfortable with it and I never grew to like it. I don't like having all eyes on me. I do best in one-on-one conversations and small meetings. I don't know when I changed, because in grammar school and the first two years of high school, I had no problems with talking in class and being the center of attention. Somewhere along the line, it all changed and I don't know why. Ultimately, I came to prefer writing and sharing my writing, an avocation that I have pursued to this day. Writing is what I enjoy most. It's a way of putting myself out there that makes me feel comfortable. When I write, I'm not worrying about how vulnerable I am. I know that those who want to read what I write will do so; those who don't will go elsewhere. I'm comfortable with that. 

 

Quasi friendships

I rarely cancel social plans that I've made with friends. Throughout my life, friends have been and are important to me. In other words, they are a priority in my life. For me to cancel plans with them, I have to be either sick or unable to keep my obligations due to a crisis of some sort, neither of which happens very often. I have never used school or work projects as an excuse to cancel plans; if anything, I didn't make social plans if I knew I had an exam on the near horizon or a crucial work project to finish, because I didn't want to cancel. I think carefully about what I promise, but once I promise something, I fulfill that promise. I don't promise what I can't deliver. 

I try to be available for get-togethers with friends and I look forward to them. But we live in a society now that worships work, and being busy at work is often used as an excuse for not getting together. I used to think it was purely an American trend--this obsession with work. But it's not. I recently tried to get together with some friends that I haven't seen since before Christmas--the end of November to be exact. We are a small group of women who meet and enjoy chatting for a couple of hours over dinner. My attempt to gather us together was rebuffed by one of them, who considers herself the busiest of us all. Granted, she has a demanding job, but I don't understand her priorities or her behavior. It wasn't that I was trying to plan a get-together for a week or two in the future; I was wondering if we could perhaps finalize a date at the end of June. Nail it down, so to speak. She wasn't having any of it; her excuse was that there might be upcoming work projects that would preclude her settling on a specific date for a get-together. Another woman in our group tried to get her to change her mind, but she ignored that attempt. What will happen is the following; at the end of June, the woman who won't meet us now will let us know that she is now available on such and such a day and would we like to get together. And usually we all fall in line to accommodate her schedule. Except that this time around I don't want to accommodate her. We've all done it for so long; she always calls the shots and it's always been that way. I'm not interested in continuing the pattern. 

I also don't understand another type of peculiar behavior where friends are concerned. Plans are made and everyone seems to look forward to getting together. But as the date approaches, one person backs out, then another, so that by the time we actually do meet, the number of joiners has been halved. I don't get it. It goes back to the idea of obligation; if you've said that you'll meet someone, you are obligated to do so unless there is a really good reason for not being able to do so. I can remember inviting four friends/colleagues to dinner (over fifteen years ago); all said they would come, but suddenly on the night in question, two canceled without a good explanation. I dealt with it then and can deal with such situations now, but it's downright rude to treat people this way. Imagine you had planned a big dinner party, had invited fifty people and half of them canceled at the last minute. People have also been known to do this at weddings; they are invited to the reception dinner and cancel at the last minute or don't commit to attending until the last minute. Are they waiting for a better offer? It's rude and selfish behavior. Besides the costs involved for the host, it's a downer for the host as well. It tells the host(s) that they are not a priority. I imagine that the invitees who behave this way think it's perfectly ok to do so. 

Then you have the people who never seem to be able to find a time to get together no matter what. But they stay in touch by texting and often say that they hope they'll see you again soon, or that we should get together soon. If you take them at their word, you quickly find out that they are not truly interested in meeting in person. 

I'm not sure I can really call these type of people friends. Quasi friends is more like it. Perhaps many work friendships developed over the years, with socializing once or twice a year, fit this definition. Once you no longer work with people on a regular basis, the reason for being friends lessens. After all, many work friendships are based on complaining about work, and when one is no longer working, there is little to complain about.  

One thing is for certain; as time goes on, these types of people will fade from my life, and I will be the better for it. Life is about letting go--of the past, of certain mindsets, and of people. One can let people fade from one's life, or one can make the choice to let go of them. I tend toward the latter. I give many chances and make any number of attempts to get together, but at some point I make the decision to let go. And once I do, there is no going backward. That's ok really, since some friendships are relative in the sense that they fit a particular place and time and are not meant to last forever. I'm thankful for my true-blue lifelong friends, the ones who are always there for me, and I for them. They know who they are, and I'm lucky to have them in my life. 

Reflections on the role of women in the church

I wish I understood human behavior better. I draw my own conclusions when I see odd or quirky behavior, such as I have witnessed recently at Sunday mass the past few months. When communion time comes and lines form to go the the altar, the longest line is the one where the priest is dealing out communion. If there is a lay minister on the altar (usually a woman), her line is short, while the line to the priest is very long. Additionally I have also witnessed that people (usually elderly) who are sitting in pews on the left side of the church, for example, will walk across to the right side if the priest is dealing out communion on the right side of the altar. I wish I could tell you that there are only a few people who do this. Not the case. This past Sunday, the line for the priest extended from the altar down to the entrance doors, whereas the line for the female lay minister had about four or five people. The priest's line was made up of young and old alike. The priest should have motioned to those on his line to switch lines, but he didn't. I think it's about time it was brought up as a discussion point from the pulpit. 

I have concluded that this is reactionary and pathetic behavior, and it irritates me no end. I have received communion from female lay ministers for years in the USA and never gave it a second thought. It never bothered me and it never will. My feelings toward those who reject women in this way are less than Christian, I must admit. Their unchristian behavior is not even subtle, it's blatant. I feel like giving them a good dressing-down, because they deserve it for their reactionary and ignorant behavior. I feel like yelling at them during the mass--"wake up". I feel sorry for the female lay minister standing there wanting to do the job that the priest has given her. I make it a point to go to her and not to the priest. Are the hosts that the priest deals out of better quality than those the female lay minister deals out? Are they more blessed? No, they are not. The priest has already done that job before communion is dealt out. All hosts are equal. It's just that these ignorant people don't want to receive communion from a woman. It makes my blood boil. 

I'm glad when I see women on the altar, serving in some capacity. Why shouldn't they? As I've discussed in previous posts, what happens when or if there are no more male priests to do these jobs? What happens if vocations fall off to the point where there are no young men to take over for the old ones? What happens if only women are interested in doing the job of a priest at some future point? What will these reactionary parishioners do at that point? Boycott the church? Not likely. They will be forced to examine their behavior, and hopefully they will change. In the meantime, I will work on quieting my irritation at my fellow parishioners who are behaving in an unchristian way. But I will say that there still is a long way to go to eradicate the stupidity and ignorance that unfortunately exists where women are concerned in the Catholic church. I have decided that the next time the church wants me to donate more money for maintenance/upkeep, I am going to say no until this issue is discussed from the pulpit. 

Spring report from Oslo

It seems as if spring is finally here. Dare we hope? Each time that we've had a few consecutive days of nice warm weather, it's been followed by the return of winter's cold, as was the case for the past week. I read the weather forecasts religiously now, because having a garden makes one more attentive to the weather (and lack of good weather). My fellow gardeners and I share our frustrations about the lousy spring we've had so far; the only spring flowers that have bloomed are the snowdrops, crocuses and violets, and they didn't bloom until mid-April. The tulips are in wait modus, and even the forsythia has not bloomed. The one plant that has grown and will bloom soon is the Helleborus Snow Rose, which has lovely flowers as I remember. The grass lawn is another story. A thick layer of snow topped by ice covered the garden until mid-April, compacting the grass to the point where I am unsure if it will grow back during this season. Time will tell. I am prepared to reseed the small area of lawn that I have in my garden. 

It's pointless to be irritated at a season, I know, but I have been so irritated that winter just keeps hanging on. It won't let go this year. Weather is the main topic of conversation in the garden; questions arise about global warming. We are worried that the growing season will be too short this year. The joke is that we'd love for there to be more global warming in Oslo so that we had shorter winters and longer summers. The reality of course is that global warming will lead to cooling in some parts of the world due to the changes in weather patterns caused by the melting of the polar ice caps. Who knows where it will all lead or end? As one of my friends in the garden says, we can talk about all the problems in the world, and there are a lot of them, but in the end, she looks forward to going home to google 'how to prune a rose bush'. That's her way of relaxing. Mine is similar; I love looking at online garden catalogs and some of the ones that arrive in the mail. I love going into garden stores to wander around. Sometimes I have specific plans about what to buy, other times no. And I do google a lot of garden-related issues; right now I'm reading about how to aerate a lawn and how important it is to do that.  

Today is one of those lovely sunny days in Oslo that foretell the imminent arrival of summer. But again, I, like the tulips, am in a wait-and-see modus. In some parts of the country south of Oslo, where there are often two growing seasons for the farmers (e.g. grains), it snowed yesterday. Luckily it didn't snow in Oslo, it only rained. The garden needs water, so I won't complain. But it seems odd to me that I leave the garden after a few hours work, come home and make myself a cup of hot chocolate--a winter drink if ever there was one. I worked for two hours cleaning and cleaning out the greenhouse yesterday, throwing away old baskets and plant containers, since it was too chilly to do anything else. I noticed that there is a different type of spider that has taken up residence in the greenhouse; these spiders look like tiny brown crabs scuttling across the floor of the greenhouse when they scurry for cover. There are not a lot of them. The usual spiders are the larger white ones with spindly legs that remind me of daddy-longlegs; they run away at the slightest sign of trouble. There are also the pill bugs that spend most of their time hiding; you find them in the compost bin if you turn the contents, but also under watering cans and the like in the greenhouse. They eat decaying plant matter, which is a good thing. I've also begun to turn the earth in the planting beds; there are a lot of big earthworms this year. During the few warm days we've had, the bumblebees and honeybees were out foraging for pollen. The insects are doing their jobs, and the garden underground is teeming with life. The garden is just waiting for the 'go' signal so that the plants can bloom and do their jobs.