Get Smart via Independent Investigation vs. Education via Remote Control

This morning my friend Vickie and I were discussing the state of affairs of TV programs and general culture. She was lamenting the prevalence of TV shows like Jersey Shores and The Real Housewives series, and I was celebrating the existence of Project Runway, Top Chef, and the like (which, I believe, are evidence of interest in talent, skill, and artistry, characteristics not found in all reality TV, let's face it). We talked about the lack of culture, intellectual exploration, and deep meaning of some of the reality shows and about how the focus of the central "characters" on many shows revolves around money, consumption of material goods, gossip, fighting with friends, going out to clubs (in the case of the younger participants), and, in general, developing one's identity via one's clothes, lifestyle, hobbies, job, or home. Do the people on these shows ever read books? Or engage in discussions about culture or art? Or do the video editors simply dumb down all the video to just the most banal, small-minded, limited material? I'm not immune myself to watching a few of the housewife shows, my eyes narrowed in amazement as I look into their lives like a zoo visitor gaping at the animals in their cages. Even charitable causes seem, these days at least, often designed to aggrandize the giver/volunteer. Some of the most generous people I know are also highly judgmental in real life, open-hearted toward the needy but unforgiving with their neighbors.

In regard to our news media, too many Americans limit what their exposure to what they already know, or what they were taught by their parents, or what they already agree with. This limited viewpoint is one of the most poisonous kinds of dumbing down and downright dangerous to our democracy. As voters we should be exercising a kind of intellectual curiosity and neutrality that helps us identify the most powerful and rational ideas and candidates. We should always be playing the devil's advocate, working hard to try to see or understand the other side. How can one be an intelligent voter without knowing about history and geography - or even literature for that matter? How is it possible to choose candidates who exhibit such vastly differing opinions on scientific matters like evolution if one hasn't studied science? How can one choose wisely if one doesn't understand the conditions, choices, and circumstances that lead up to what an administration has to deal with? If we are to blame a current president for the economic ills of our country (and the world, as some do), we have not educated ourselves about the (admittedly complex) issues and causes of the national and international economies. Worse is not being exposed to any opinions, ideas, books, culture, science - having no interest in knowledge of any kind. There are voters in the U.S. in this category too, far too many people who laugh when asked in polls who the first president of the US was because they don't know and have no shame about not knowing. It's fashionable to disdain education or intellect. Yet it is knowledge and mental exercise that helps us to be capable of the decision-making skills we need to make the best choices politically - or in any aspect of our lives.

Sometimes I read the comments that follow news articles on Google or Yahoo, and the level of hostility, cynicism, black-and-white thinking, hatred, racism, homophobic ranting, anger, misogyny, and contempt in the respondents' comments is downright frightening. How did our society become so negative? True, these are hard times for many of our citizens, but these kinds of comments predate current times. Also, hard times are cyclical, as are good times, and what we need when times are hard is creativity, hope, optimism, and good humor, not the opposite of it.

Every US president has been blamed — and sometimes, though not as often, praised — for the state of the country immediately after he becomes president, yet the roots of the conditions an administration inherits often reach considerably back into the past and may even originate in several different administrations of both major political parties. It seems that we have little patience or interest in delving into the reasons and the responsibility for our leader's political inheritance, so our reactions are knee-jerk and black-and-white - which could hurl us into a more dire situation.

A few years ago my friend was lamenting the judgmentalism of the Christian far Right. As I listened to him complain, I realized that he was being as judgmental in his comments as he was accusing his political and spiritual enemy to be. We all need to stay aware of our prejudices and the other limitations, both politically and in general, that prevent us from keeping our eyes and minds open.

Power of the Critique and/or A Sense of Self

Yesterday I was chatting with a dear friend of mine who shared that one of my other friends told her something critical about me that was shared by the second friend's mother. Now, mind  you, the criticism wasn't of my moral character, nor of my sense of humor, intelligence, compassion, or any of those more important aspects I hope comprise my personality. The criticism was about messiness or the fact that my windows aren't always spic'n'span or  something like that. Still, I must admit that hearing how this woman thought of me did sting a bit and the sting of it all stayed with me, like a deep pinch inside my gut.

On the one hand, I know that my reaction points to an area in me that needs healing. I experienced much criticism as a child and although I'm much less sensitive to it than I used to be, there are still comments that can get to me. So I'm thinking obviously I'm not that serene yet that I can toss off such a comment as someone else's "stuff". On the other hand, there can be learning here for me. Maybe I really do need to make sure my windows are cleaned more often. Or maybe I need to accept myself no matter what, understanding that no matter who I am - too messy, too clean, whatever - that someone might find fault. Life is like that. People are like that. Part of the issue in this case is that I have no recourse. I don't know my friend's mother enough to call her up and explain myself, or apologize for not meeting her standards, not that I should do that, of course. And given that the comment was shared by a third party, I don't necessarily feel comfortable approaching my friend, the daughter of the critic, because she didn't tell me this information directly. So it's left to prick my innards a bit till I work it out inside.

This morning I realized that there are so many things I don't know about my critic. She might think I'm the sweetest person she's ever met (or not). She might find me elegant or talented, funny or a nurturer (or not). The point is that I'm giving some weight - well, not that much, but enough - to one nth of someone's opinion of me, just the part I know, and I'm doing this based on information that's rather removed from the individual and the original conversation. What about the rest of me, the parts she might appreciate but that went unspoken in this particular exchange? I must assume that there's at least a chance that she thinks something positive about me amongst all my qualities. And if everything she thinks about me is critical; if she, indeed, likes nothing about me, is that a reason to question myself, or to feel ashamed, not good enough, embarrassed? I don't think so. If so, then I'm giving everyone else's opinions dominion over my feelings about myself, when who I am is so much more.

You might be wondering if I'm upset at my friend for sharing the less-than-favorable comment. I'm not. While it's true that I might be feeling more calm this morning, more at peace with myself in the world, had I not known what was said, the point is that something was said, and it's a part of the truth, and I think it's important in life that we are not undone by such simple things as someone else's opinion of us, someone else's "truth".

Take politicians, ministers, school teachers and principals - almost any leader in any capacity. They experience constant critiques of their work, and while the fortunate and talented are lauded and appreciated, even the best must be plagued at times by thorny reviews of their work. As a PTA officer I was the recipient of another parent's screaming anger about a decision that had been made years before my child was even in school. "I'm not even getting paid for this", I remember thinking. Certainly the more we put ourselves "out there" (in the world), the more people know us; and the more people know us, the more we will hear what they think about us. If we are lucky enough to be in a position to influence the lives of others, we will certainly receive their feedback. Obviously a considerable amount of people's opinions of us (or their opinions of anyone or anything) reflect their own experiences, values, and, it must be mentioned, baggage. Listening to someone's opinion goes a long way. It's passions that are overflowing, and if someone feels heard (and is heard) - if I understand them even when there's nothing that can be done, we have participated in a worthy human exchange. Working for a Fortune 500 company when I was younger, I learned from a trusted colleague how to listen and empathize with my customer's frustrations even though I wasn't always able to change the outcome. (There's a limit to this too, however. No one should be allowed to continually browbeat us.)

So how do we give credit and attention when it's helpful and weed out the rest? We must first be internally referenced. Being internally referenced means that we know who we are, and we are who we are for a reason. We make choices in life according to what's most important to us. While my friend's mom is washing windows, I might be listening to someone share something painful. This doesn't mean my friend's mother isn't compassionate too, but she spends her time differently than I do. Knowing how I spend my time and spending it doing what honors who I am - that's being internally referenced. Then I know who I am, and I'm willing to accept that my windows might go unwashed for a few weeks or months longer than someone else's because something else in life carries more importance for me, and I'm willing to know that there will be someone who doesn't appreciate the unwashed windows. When cleanliness is the most important thing to me, I'll be washing windows. Till then, I'll be doing what matters most to me.

Years ago I was in a job in which I was questioned and challenged constantly. I never could understand why the people I had to deal with weren't more trusting of me. Certainly I was worthy of their trust even in the early years. These many years later I realize that I lost some of my sense of self back then. I became more referenced by what the people I was working for thought of me than what I knew about myself. Sometimes life is simply messy, and relationships are messy, and there aren't always easy or quick solutions to hindrances. Sometimes we endure - or we must depart - a complex situation. But even when we are going through the most trying times with others, if we know who we are and why we do the things we do as we do them, and why it's all important to us, we can absorb the barbs in a soft cloak of understanding and self-acceptance and go about the work that is vital to us.

As the music director of a local church some years ago, I did my utmost to build the choirs and create a meaningful musical enhancement of the church services each week. Ultimately the minister, someone I admired and liked, told me that I would "come to hate" him eventually. Finding him such an appealing and warm person, this confused me utterly until evidence became obvious that he was out for my head. It was a heart-wrenching time. I resigned after it became apparent that the minister wanted to pin an extremely  minor error in the order of service on me when it was actually a congregant leader who'd made the mistake. The choir voted unanimously to reject my resignation but, not wanting to contribute to what was already a nasty situation, I elected to go. I did explain myself in a letter to the minister, but I felt the most honorable choice was to exit. To this day I believe my decision was correct. If, even (or perhaps because) I was doing a great job and knew it, the situation was untenable, incendiary, and appropriately brought to a close. A few years ago I re-visited that church to attend the funeral of a former choir member. The minister, about to depart for a national leadership role in the denomination, went out of his way to be welcoming and friendly to me. I responded in kind and allowed this man's good will to ease and release the resentment.

In noting these thoughts today, I've reclaimed my sense of self and feel much less sting from the woman's remark. We cannot over-estimate how closely our well-being is attached to knowing who we are and moving in this world accordingly.

Praising IKEA

I know, many folks aren't fans of the frenetic energy and over-population of IKEA stores. But if you can get past the enormous parking lot and actually into the store, and if you glean a sense of direction and learn to actually locate the items you need, the place is a treasure trove. I have several $1 alarm clocks I've used regularly for many years. But recently I made a purchase that has transformed my home and, in a way, therefore, my life. (Without being too dramatic of course.)

Never having been a huge fan of drapes, and always fond of using objects for purposes for which they were never intended, I've not done much about window dressing in my house, although I've lived here for nine years. This hundred-year-old house has beautiful lead paned windows and privacy is an issue only from certain views. Some windows, including those in my bedroom and living room have been bedecked with saris from the Indian stores on Devon Avenue. Once recently I realized that it was possible to see right through those gorgeous saris and straight into my bedroom — yikes! So I decided another solution was in order, not to mention that the saris weren't hemmed, looked a bit tired, didn't flatter the house from outside, and weren't me anymore. So I headed to IKEA thinking I would drape my bedroom. I found 95" long white drapes that hang from large (3"?) grommets at the top. Three packages of drapes (2 panels per) plus the hardware for six windows cost me around $80. My singing student Tom taught me how to use a drill and affix metal anchors in my plaster walls, and within no time the drapes were hung. Quelle difference! My room went from marginal and boring to elegant and airy. Especially beautiful is the way the white fabric of these drapes (a soft canvas) filters the light that comes in, so now the room is cool and airy. From there, I moved on to the guest room, then the living room, and finally the sun room. I cannot express what a change this has been and how much more I'm enjoying my home thanks to these very reasonable drapes from IKEA. So, IKEA, I sing your praises!

La - la - LAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

And I thank you.

p.s. I bought all the drapes and hardware zip-fast in the self-service aisle.

I'M SO #&@*#& MAD!!

Actually I'm not mad, well at least I'm not angry. Mad I might be, colorfully so!

Anger is an issue for many, and it's something that can momentarily control the emotions and even behavior of most of us, at least sometimes. Anger is a natural, necessary emotion that helps us set boundaries and know what's right or wrong, especially what's right or wrong for us. Unaware of the origins of our anger, though, we can let it spill out everywhere, at other people, at ourselves, at life itself. Or it can remain so contained inside some of us that we resist feeling it and never allow ourselves to fully feel when things aren't right for us.

My father never concerned himself with monitoring or restricting his anger. Everyone  who knew my dad said of him, "Elmer's got a chip on his shoulder." Indeed. Deeper than that, though, I think my father had no idea what to do with his anger, nor where it came from. He seemed filled with anger much of the time, at least while I was growing up (ultimately he remarried, and he seemed to be happier then). Dad's anger must have been huge and overpowering because we saw evidence of it frequently, daily. He wasn't a screamer. But he frowned, he sneered with contempt, and he used profanity in a staccato fashion, never intoning the "f" word, but peppering his conversation with constant "goddamns". "If that goddamned waitress doesn't bring us the goddamned food soon, I'm going to goddamned give her a piece of my goddamned mind." Colorful? ...maybe in a play or in a book, but so scary to a child. His treatment of service people shaped my own attitude toward them — to be the opposite of my father. I can and will express disappointment about food or service, but with a soft touch and a light heart, approaches my father didn't have the tools to use.

Emotions associated with experiences we had when we were young can be triggered by certain words or events. My therapist, Bill, taught me that our anger (or other emotion) is "old", i.e. related to childhood experiences, when what we feel is beyond what would be appropriate for a given situation. If we feel anger and then begin to sort of willy nilly assign blame to situations and people, it can be old anger coming out sideways at people that really deserve no guilt.

It is helpful to realize the origins of our anger, which perhaps derives from a parent who was always late to our recital or graduation, or who yelled at us when we were innocent, or a teacher who ignored us, or classmates who bullied, insulted, or rejected us. In realizing that we are triggered by issues we have previously been wounded by, we understand why reliving such events feels so big to us. It's also quite possible, though, that we will never remember or come to know all the precise details of the origins of our anger. But we can stay aware and notice the level of our reactions. We can notice when we're going "down the tube" and then make a choice about how we want to feel. We can journal, talk to a friend, or use art & music to externalize and express our emotions. We can live our life rather than letting the events of our life rule us.

Off to work out!

To bang or not to bang?

I like bangs; that is to say, I like a cute fringe on a face. In its best form it's kicky and sassy, youthifying, and adorable.

But bangs can also be overwhelming, unflattering, too much, too little, hard to control, frustrating to grow out, not as elegant as sans bangs... And, the cut of the bangs is key. Too layered? - not attractive. Unlayered and blunt? - can pull the face downward. Too long....too short....full? partial? There are so many options, as many as the myriad potential problems any which one can cause. Exasperated sigh.

For years I've been considering having bangs. On my behalf my daughter told our mutual hairdresser that I was considering getting bangs. "She absolutely should not do it!" she cried. "It will age her considerably."  (Why did it sound to me as if she already found me aged, even in my current bangless form? Was she mistakenly imagining I meant a thick fringe all across the forehead? Banish the possibility! How could a bit of bang, just a side-swiping slant, possibly be all that bad? Her warning did not dissuade me.)

Lately I've been noticing that some of the hair around my face is either new-grown or broken off from coloring or wear-and-tear, imparting an unintentional but not unflattering mini bang. So the other evening as I was readying myself for tango, I thought, heck, why not clip off a few strands and see how it looks? So I executed a snip here, one there, a few more, and I had....something or other.

I like it! 

I went for it (an important impetus for moving-forward in life) and I did it, and luckily I like it!

The bang is born. Not the BIG bang, but just a minor league bang: more than a whimper, but not too much more, more like a wispy shy smile of a bang. ;)  But a sweet, appealing smile.

Note to self: Don't wait so long to try out something new. Follow my instincts! Go for it. Pay less attention to naysayers. Trust in myself and my ideas.

Update! I'm so happy I fringed myself! I like living on the fringe! Seriously, I think this was a change I needed. A student of mine who's a hair stylist said she thinks as we age we all need a little bang.  :)  I agree! I'm adding a little more bang to my life. In fact, I'm heading upstairs right now to find my scissors. 

Ex-play-nay-shun !

Why 'Olive'?

I like'em!: Tasty, salty, savory, spicy or not, loved by many but honestly disliked by some, gourmet or humble, of the earth yet tweaked, compact & able to be carried with, complimentary to other flavors, inspirational, literary, lovely in shade and texture. Spherical.

And 'Twig'?

Cuter and more dear than 'branch', earthy, strong but not too, able to hold an ornament but not so brittle it cannot bend, powerful foil to 'olive', buildable, may be extended as peace offering especially in tandem with 'olive'.