A good poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

PITY THE NATION

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti (After Khalil Gibran) 2007

Pity the nation whose people are sheep
And whose shepherds mislead them

Pity the nation whose leaders are liars
Whose sages are silenced
And whose bigots haunt the airwaves

Pity the nation that raises not its voice
Except to praise conquerors
And acclaim the bully as hero
And aims to rule the world
By force and by torture

Pity the nation that knows
No other language but its own
And no other culture but its own

Pity the nation whose breath is money
And sleeps the sleep of the too well fed

Pity the nation oh pity the people
who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away

My country, tears of thee
Sweet land of liberty!

copyright Lawrence Ferlingetti

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. 

 

Seven Devils--Florence + The Machine

Another song that I heard for the first time tonight. Interesting lyrics, not what you'd automatically think they were about according to the songwriter(s), who has spoken about them online. I really like the imagery. 

Lyrics

Holy water cannot help you now

Thousand armies couldn't keep me out

I don't want your money

I don't want your crown

See, I've come to burn your kingdom down

Holy water cannot help you now

See, I've come to burn your kingdom down

And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out

I'm gonna raise the stakes

I'm gonna smoke you out

Seven devils all around me

Seven devils in my house

See, they were there when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

And now all your love will be exorcised

And we will find you saying it's to be better now

And it's an even sum

It's a melody

It's a battle cry

It's a symphony

Seven devils all around me

Seven devils in my house

See, they were there when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

Before the day is done

Before the day is done

They can keep me out

'Til I tear the walls

'Til I save your heart

And to take your soul

And what has been done

Cannot be undone

In the evil's heart

In the evil's soul

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Paul Epworth / Florence Welch

Seven Devils lyrics © Florence And The Machine Ltd., Emi Music Publishing Ltd

Band of Horses - Casual Party

I like the song, which I heard for the first time tonight, and the video is perfect for a Halloween party. 

Letting go of who people used to be--wise words from Heidi Priebe

I saw this online today and it resonated with me, despite the sadness contained therein. Whether it's growing old(er), becoming ill, becoming tired, wanting to give up--it is a blessing if those roads that people end up going down are shared with those they love, if those who love them want to join them on their journeys. That is not always the case for all. And it might be good to remember that we ourselves can let go of the people we used to be. Sometimes we hang onto them for dear life, thinking that we have to remain a certain way, when in truth we do not. Sometimes the people we were no longer serve us. We do not have to be accountable to the people we were in our twenties, thirties, forties, and so on. We can let go of them and be who we are in the present. Best to come to terms with who we were in order to embrace who we are now. Because now is all we have. 

To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost.

But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honor what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness. 

~Heidi Priebe (from her book: This Is Me Letting You Go)

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. 

Book review--The Beast and the Bethany books (1-3)

The Beast and the Bethany books (1-3) are books for pre-teens that don't disappoint in terms of their subject matter. Vainglorious egoist Ebenezer Tweezer has taken care of and served the huge beast in his attic with different kinds of food for over five hundred years. The beast has rewarded him with all of the material comforts one can think of as well with an elixir that keeps him young. But when the beast decides it wants to eat a child, Ebenezer finds himself in a bind, both morally and practically. Ebenezer goes on a search for a suitable child, and when he meets the bad-tempered orphan Bethany (that not even the orphanage wants), his dilemma is solved, or so he thinks. But when she comes to live with him, all hell breaks loose. A rude, destructive Bethany and an evil beast in the attic of Ebenezer's house can only lead to trouble. A lot of trouble. 

The author Jack Meggitt-Phillips has quite the imagination, and the books are easy to read, much as were JK Rowling's Harry Potter series of books. The pages just fly by. They are also surprising books given the world we live in at present; the beast decides it wants to eat a child after having developed a taste for humans. And before it gets around to Bethany, there are several humans that disappear down its gullet. But Bethany has other plans, once she finds out what's in store for her. Books 1-3 are a fun roller coaster ride into a strange world, where people (and parrots) travel via puddle portals, where rare parrots sing beautifully and lay eggs that contain all kinds of food, where material items vomited out by the beast have minds of their own. The author has been compared to Roald Dahl, which is apt, but I also found myself thinking of Neil Gaiman's books for children/young adults (The Ocean at the End of the Lane, Coraline). Book 4 remains, and from what I can judge of the ending for Book 3, we are moving toward a beast that has begun to develop a conscience after having spent time in prison and having its memory erased; it has begun to want to be a good beast. That will be an interesting ride. 

A good article that resonated with me

If you read one good article today, make it this one: Opinion | How to be Human - The New York Times (nytimes.com)  David Brooks, the author, writes about 'illuminators and diminishers', describing them in some detail in his article The Essential Skills for Being Human.      

The world sorely needs more illuminators and fewer diminishers. It needs more good listeners, more nurturers, more doers, and fewer narcissists and incessant talkers who never get around to doing anything at all. It needs more coaches who build others up, and fewer complainers and naggers who wear others down. It needs more people who care about others in the best way possible. 

You know when you've been in the presence of an illuminator. You feel energized (re-energized), hopeful, encouraged, and seen (as in recognized for who you are--validated). You feel as though a warm light, a warm ray of sunshine, has shone down upon you. You also know when you've been in the presence of a diminisher, because you feel de-energized, pessimistic, fearful, and invisible. Darkness has replaced the warm sunshine, and a cold wind blows. Diminishers are narcissists first; if you are looking for any type of validation from them, you can forget it. Your self-esteem around a diminisher will suffer a lot, which can be very detrimental for some people. 

Diminishers are controlling types, the type of people who say the following: 

• I wouldn't do it that way.  (in other words, Do it my way)
• I would never do that. You're wasting your time.  (I wouldn't waste my time)
• You shouldn't do that or feel that way.  (I don't do that or feel that way)
• It will never work out.  (So why bother? Don't waste your time)

Diminishers are only happy when others are fearful, or remain in a place of fear. Illuminators want to lift those around them out of fear into a place of light and peace. Illuminators compliment and build others up. Diminishers do the opposite. When you are happy about something, they are more likely to try to burst your balloon rather than let you be happy. They'll find a way to do it, to needle you, to get under your skin, to try to control you, to try and make you feel bad about yourself and what you do. They are invested in trying to bring you down. They try to control your choices, and when they realize that they cannot, they will try to whittle you 'down to size' if they are in the presence of someone strong enough to stand up to them. Why do diminishers behave the way they do? They diminish others because they suffer from envy, from dissatisfaction with their own lives, and from low self esteem, even if it seems the opposite is true when they are always talking about how great their own lives are. They are really focused on the lives of others, gossiping about them, complaining about them, trying to control them, competing with them in an unhealthy way, because their own lives border on unhappy or miserable. Does that mean we should have empathy for diminishers? Yes. But it does not mean that we should sacrifice our peace of mind and soul for them. Illuminators do not require your obedience, loyalty, servitude, or submissiveness. They understand what real love is, and they practice it.

I have been blessed in my own life to know many illuminators; I have wonderful longtime friends whom I love and who love me. My husband has been an illuminator for me and many people he's worked with--a true coach. But I also have experienced diminishers, and trust me, before you understand who and what they are, you will feel diminished by them. Less than your usual self. Until you regain your strength, your energy, your true sense of self. No one can destroy you once you know who you truly are. And sometimes being your true self is a lonely road when you're surrounded by diminishers. But it's a far better road, and in the end, you'll have outpaced them and left them behind in the dust. 

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. 

Autumn poem

 

Joseph Campbell quotes

·        We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.

·        The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.

·        The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.

·        A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.

·        The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.

·        When we quit thinking primarily about ourselves and our own self-preservation, we undergo a truly heroic transformation of consciousness.

·        We're so engaged in doing things to achieve purposes of outer value that we forget the inner value, the rapture that is associated with being alive, is what it is all about.

·        Is the system going to flatten you out and deny you your humanity, or are you going to be able to make use of the system to the attainment of human purposes?

·        What each must seek in his life never was on land or sea. It is something out of his own unique potentiality for experience, something that never has been and never could have been experienced by anyone else.

 

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. 

Autumn garden update

Autumn is upon us. In truth, it was already upon us at the end of August in terms of how the garden behaved at that time. The pumpkins, potatoes, and tomatoes were finished growing by then. I've never had pumpkins turn orange that early; they were however quite small. I think the plants understood that there had been too much rain this summer and not enough warmth and sun. In order to grow in size, vegetable plants need warmth and sun. Not this summer.

The perennials and annuals did well, however. I'm not even sure why, because we had so much rain in July and August that I felt sure that there would be a lot of root rot, problems with mold, and other similar problems. There wasn't. Of course I'm very happy about that. The flowers grew quite high and seemed to do quite well. Go figure. Every time I think I understand how it all works, I understand that I don't. The old adage is true--you learn something new every day.