Month: April 2003

  • The Exchange of a Medium


    "Whenever we pray for money, God sends us work."  My neighbor said this to me years ago and we both laughed.  Teresa Sullivan must have prayed that prayer a lot as she had 10 children, homeschooled them all, and her husband was in no wise a rich man.  I admired their industry.  The oldest child was 17 when I moved away from that neighborhood and he'd been CEO of his own business for almost 4 years.  Christopher wasn't incorporated, he was licensed some way, "doing business as."  He ran a lawn care/snow removal service.  At first it was just him, but as his brothers, Jesse and Aaron, got old enough they became his employees.   Their cheerful demeanor, professional attitude, hardwork, and excellence of service won him contracts with almost every home within easy walking distance.  That would be close to a hundred lawns to mow and driveways to clear. 


    Christopher's parents encouraged him in his endeavor and refused to second guess his decision making.  I was amused by his stance with his sister.  Katherine was a couple years younger and wanted to join the business, but he wouldn't allow her to mow lawns.  When she pushed for a place, he created a whole new sideline for her and the next younger sister, Colleen.  They were allowed to clean houses and do childcare.  (I know it seems sexist, but in Christopher's defense, he had good reason to question whether his little sisters could handle the heavy equipment.)  To accommodate them, he printed little brochures from the computer and distributed door to door to introduce the new service.  Rates were reasonable and those kids were never idle. 


    I used to ask them, "What are you working for today?"  Because I was fascinated by their answers.  Christopher held weekly board meetings and each employee got to bring his or her concerns to the table.  They were each paid a wage, but any profits (and there were always profits) were designated to a specific purpose.


    "We've decided to send a donation to such and so program feeding children in Somalia.  Colleen needs new glasses.  Katherine wants to attend a seminar in Nashville.  Jesse has an opportunity to study and join a Red Cross emergency response team.  We heard last week about a women's shelter in St Paul that needs baby clothes and formula.  The Hennepin County food shelf had a lot of calls last week and they need to be restocked."  


    In the three and a half years that I lived across the street from them, the only "luxury" I can ever remember them naming as their goal was when they sent their parents to a nice hotel to celebrate their 20th anniversary.  Their home contained sufficient but minimal furnishings.  There was no game sytem, one tv that I never saw tuned to anything except PBS, and very few toys of any kind considering the number of kids under that roof.  (In addition to the five I've named, there were five "little ones.")


    Christopher was responsible for filing all the paperwork for taxes and whatever governmental requirements are placed on licensed operations.  He had capital expenses.  The family garage held an impressive array of professional grade equipment.  When we moved away, we had a brand new snowblower from Sears, never used.  I'm not going to tell you how the negotiations went but that 17 year old got an incredible deal from me.  We had exactly 6 weeks notice in which to sell our home and relocate.  Happily we had already had people express an interest in the house, so we had a buyer lined up quickly, unhappily we'd been hit by a severe storm that damaged the roof and stripped paint from the siding.  Just like everyone else in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area.  I had to get that damage repaired before I could sell, so my priority was finding a contractor who would leapfrog us over the long line of other people waiting for repairs.  Christopher knew that I didn't want the hassle of advertising the snow blower for sale, (in fact, if it hadn't been for the fun of negotiating, I would probably have given the thing to him for avoid having to deal with it at all.)  The second we reached an agreement and shook hands, he took out his checkbook and wrote out the check on the spot. 


    The morning we left, the moving van arrived five hours early.  On top of that, the driver told me that he had to leave within four hours regardless of whether we got all the stuff loaded.  On top of that, I had been packing my house myself to save money on the move, but the last four days I'd had flu.  So I knew that I was going to have to get up very early and work hard to meet the original deadline, I had been counting on every second of those five hours.  When I lost that time, everything fell apart.  I literally sat down on the sidewalk and started crying.  Christopher or Jesse - I can't remember now which it was - had started down the street with a lawn mower.  (yes, it was 7 am and they were already at work)  I wiped my face and played down the mess in the way of adults who are embarrassed to be caught by a child in a moment of weakness.  (Probably, now that I remember that emotion, it would have been the younger brother.)


    I walked back into my house and within moments the phone rang.  Teresa Sullivan, mother to the crew, asked, "How much help do you need?"  They whisked Tucker off to their house.  Michael had already gone to a sitter, but Tucker was still nursing and I had to keep him closer.  My house came alive with Sullivans.  They sorted, they folded, they carried, they packed . . . and my things were all loaded on that truck with seconds to spare before the driver pulled out.  That day they wouldn't allow me to pay them.  I'd become the recipient of their joint decision to invest their labor.  I think it was Katherine who explained, "Money isn't the point.  We have to use money because the food bank doesn't need it's lawn mowed, and those kids in Somalia don't need snow shovelled.  Money is just a way to exchange the kind of labor we can do for the kind of labor we can't do because of our lack of skill, or location.  We don't need money because there's nothing to exchange, you can use the labor we can do." 


    Money isn't the point.

  • Getting to Know You - (And Telling Your Secrets)


    It's such a strange and surreal experience to translate the impression you've formed through online correspondence into the three dimensional person who was on the other end of those chats, emails, blogs and so forth.  Maybe it's because we've "known" each other much longer, or maybe it's because I had a really skewed picture of Faith, but I admit I was far more surprised upon meeting her than meeting Natasha.  See first there's the Xanga name - lovingmy40s - that gave me an impression.  When I was 8 I thought that all 16 year olds looked like Barbie.  I continued to think this subconsciously until the day before my 16th birthday when it dawned on me that I was about 12 inches too short to ever mold myself to Barbie's proportions.  And even before I had children, there was no earthly possibility that my waist would ever be that small.  I briefly considered praying for a miracle, but to be honest, I couldn't ever convince myself that it was in God's will for me to have that body.  I know I wouldn't have used it for holy purposes.


    But, this isn't about me, this is about Faith, or at least my impressions of Faith.  See as I approach 40 I'm realizing that in my mind a person in her 40's is automatically mature, adult, settled, and well, middle-ageish.  You know the kind of person who's just putting in time until the AARP card arrives so she can get those great discounts at Denny's.  I looked very close and found a couple tiny laugh-lines at the corners of her eyes (and never you mind the fact that she was laughing at the time) but other than that, Faith looks much more like my mental image of a 15 year old.  Slim, and fey, she strikes me as a woman on the brink of Barbiedom more than a woman on the brink of AARP. 


    After the Xanga name, there's the style and voice of Faith's writing.  She's so deeply reflective and complicated in her views that I rather imagined a person who strolls slowly and deliberately through life stopping often to take notes.  That impression was waaaaay off.  The fire in her blonde hair makes the crackle seem less like static electricity and more like a personality that refuses to accept limitation to the space occupied by her physical body.  The way she moved, up and down and sideways and around playing with her kids and flitting around the house, well, I don't know how she kept them hidden, but I'm pretty sure she has fairy wings under that sweater. 


    The Appalachian region has a reputation for mystical and unexplored marvels.  It's no wonder Faith lives there. 

  • Weekend in Ohio


    According to the map, the highway 62 route is 37 miles shorter than the Interstate 71 route.  Halfway to Cinncinnati, I realize why the map program recommended the longer way around.  Highway 62 has hairpin turns, hills, and valleys.  At the top of a hill my cell phone beeps.  I have to pull over to check the voice mail, "Quiltnmomi?  This is Daffodilious.  I'm getting ready to leave my house."  I try to return the call, but I the signal is too weak and I'm disconnected before the call is completed. 


    I pull back onto the highway.  The scenery is incredible.  Every turn reveals another photo opportunity and I daydream about bringing my kids here.  Stand them on the edge of that gorge . . . I picture Tucker falling over the edge, okay, maybe not the gorge.  I'll put them on that rock at the edge of the stream . . . I picture Michael's head going under the water, okay not the rock.  At the top of the next hill, my phone beeps.  "Quiltnmomi?  This is Daffodilious.  Roberto and I are on the way to the airport, I hope you're getting this message."  This time the signal gets through and I connect to her voicemail.  "Daffodilious?  This is Quiltnmomi.  I'm somewhere in Southern Indiana.  Don't worry if I don't answer the phone, the signal is bad." 


    Back into the valley I drive. 


    10:33 - arrive at Cinncinnati, Ohio International Airport, which turns out to be located in Kentucky.  I've noticed that airports tend to be - shall we say, flexible - about their address.  Many are in suburbs of the city they serve, but I think this is the first time I've seen an airport that's in an entirely different state. 


    10:43 - no parking place near door to terminal found on first pass. 

    10:50 - no parking place near door to terminal found on second pass. 


    10:57 - Daffodilious' flight is landing in 15 minutes and I'm still driving around the parking lot!  Quickly grab a space that's moderately far from the door to the terminal.


    Once inside I check the arrival board and see that the flight is semi-ontime, instead of 11:12, it isn't landing until 11:21.  I regret that I didn't make one more pass around the lot. 


    I stroll over to the glass wall beside the escalator where passengers rise to meet the people who are there to meet them.  I take my place between a woman in pink exercise type clothes that are stretched beyond the manufacturer's recommended parameters and a uniformed limo driver with long pony-tail and dark glasses.  He holds a white-board type sign.  I consider knocking him in the head.  I could take his sign, change the name to Daffodilious and hold it aloft.  She's never seen me except in pictures and I don't want her - even for a second - to think I might be the woman in pink.


    My phone rings, "Quiltnmomi??  Are you in the airport?  I'm on the ground!" 


    "I'm here!"


    "I'll see you in a few minutes then, oh, and I'm wearing a black trenchcoat."


    We hang up. 


    The woman next to me begins to squeal and jump around.  She's waving her arms in the air.  I can't see that she's directing her antics toward any particular person, in fact, it's possible that she's having some exotic seizure.  At least three women in black trenchcoats look our way.  Quickly I hit the send button on my Verizon Wireless.  


    "Daffodilious?  I am NOT wearing pink!" 


    Natasha is the best navigator I've ever driven with.  She has the directions to lovingmy40s home memorized and starts watching exit numbers miles in advance of our first turn.  Faith's directions are fabulous.  The white picket fence and friendly dog are exactly as described.


    Since Natasha and I have had a couple hours to talk, laugh and tell our secrets, we are ready to turn the spotlight onto Faith.  Even though we are new to our realtime partnership, we worked our good-cop/bad-cop routine like pros.  "How long have you been married?  What were you really doing in Africa?  Where is the bathroom!?"  She was a tough character.  She didn't break until we got out the knives.  When Quiltnmomi and Daffodilious start chopping and dicing, no one can withstand us. 


    Faith's home sits high among the trees, many many acres of trees, through which her husband has made fantastic trails.  He not only drives the tractor along the trail to clear underbrush, he has built wooden benches at overlooks that tempt you to get lost in the contemplation of natural beauty.  We walked the Trail of Three Valleys yesterday after dinner with Faith's parents, who charmed us with excellent food, interesting conversation and a tour of the neatest garden I may have ever seen.  Hill isn't quite as steep as Carol's but I so loved the terraced layout of her space that I'm planning now to incorporate some of her ideas into my own garden. 


    In addition to being smart, funny and thought-provoking, Natasha and Faith are great company.  Faith's entire family welcomed us and treated us to a weekend that exceeded my fantasy of the wonderful time we would have. 

  • Checking In


    What happens on a weekend when three Xanga women get together for the first time?  Laughter, stories and lots and lots of "did you read ...." and "have you ever checked out..."  It's probable that all our SIR lists are getting fat on the high calorie praise of Xanga sites that we're recommending to each other. 


    lovingmy40s lives in the most beautiful spot in all of Southeastern Ohio.  Her home sits atop a hill overlooking deep valley.  This morning the valley is so thick with fog it's like gazing across the sea.  (Daffodilious brought not one but two cameras!  So if Xanga will cooperate, I expect there will be photos to share.)  Even the weather today is perfect.  Now if the goat would decide to have her babies so we can play with new kids... I hope you are all having as good a weekend as we are.   


  • Whooooo Hoooooo! Wild Women Ahead!


    I'm leaving now, right this minute, for a whole weekend of hanging out with women, talking about writing, and generally getting myself in a whole new place.  OH!  That reminds me ~ pack camera! 


    Natasha - I'll see you at the airport in about 4 hours.
    Faith - We'll call you when we get lost. 


  • Creation


    "It isn't plagiarism if you don't get caught."  any high school student


    Sometimes I hit a wall.  I mean really, I slam hard into a brick wall.  I've been working on a writing project and all of a sudden I'm staring at a blank monitor.  I have thoughts in my head, things that seem important to me, ideas I'd like to share.  Lately I've been struck by how very unoriginal most of these thoughts are.  I start to say something about 'faith' and then I realize, this is basically the same thing that Kierkegaard said.  I start to say something about 'knowledge' and I realize, oh, that's straight from Kant, or Wittgenstein, or Derrida, or . . . So I sit here and think about John Nash (as portrayed by Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind) how he paced, and thought and used his grease pencil to work out the equations on windows, searching and exploring and hoping to find that one original thought.  Nash stands out because of all the people of his generation hoping to find that original new idea, he's the one who had a breakthrough.  Millions and millions of people out there thinking, and how many of them ever think anything new?


    I think about how specialized everything is today.  I read a lot of science, philosophy of science, history of science, psychology, language studies, science of the mind, cosmology, and phsyics.  Then I switch gears and read theology, literature, philosophy of religion, church history, and biblical studies.  Sometimes I'd like to take those authors by the hand and introduce them to one another.  Mr. Pinker - I'd like you to meet Stuart Kauffman, he has some fascinating ideas about chaos, entropy, emergent behavior and natural selection that seem to be related to the work you are doing in evolutionary psychology.  Here, do you mind if I just sit and take notes of your conversation?  So many competing ideas, and so few people seem to realize the connection between their pet theories and the work of others in related fields.  Maybe if they got together and compared notes, they could generate a truly new idea. 


    Karl Popper argued that we need paradigm shifts in order to move forward in thought and that sounds truly exciting - we'll just shift the paradigm and vast fields of unexplored ideas will open before us.  But Popper also said that in order for the shift to occur the people who hold the current ideas must literally die off to make way for people who can question the unquestionable.  Once an idea is accepted as foundational, it takes an extraordinary naivete or intellectual courage to see that it might not be the bedrock we think it is.  Einstein had to turn Newton on his head before relativity could be born.  But what kind of person has the confidence to oppose foundational thought?  Almost no one has that level of courage, so the new thought, the improved formualae comes from the person who simply doesn't know that it can't be done.


    Then I think of my little essays.  I like to write about the things I think about.  Primarily I think about knowledge, How do we know anything?  Why do we choose to believe one piece of evidence and not another?  How do we know what questions to ask?  Where do we derive our hypotheses?  What does it mean to be 'alive'?  What does it mean to say that 'a' cannot be 'not-a'?  Where do new ideas come from?  What's the difference between arguing for the truth and spreading propaganda?  Does 'knowing' something prevent us questioning and possibly learning something new? 


    Wouldn't you like to know why I'm sitting here asking impossible questions?  I have a list of essay topics I've been working through.  All of them broad topics with room for me to say anything I want related to the general theme.  I've written, and rewritten, and edited and re-edited, and I sit here thinking, "that's not your idea."  Richard Foster said that better, Jacob Bronkowski argued that point fifty years ago, Clark Pinnock said that yesterday.  So what's the difference between restating an idea that's been proposed before and plagiarizing the idea.  According to my dictionary, plagiarism is "to steal and pass off as one's own the ideas of another without crediting the source".  I'm not worried about overt plagiarism, if I open a book and copy a sentence, I credit that to the source.  But I worry very much about unconscious plagiarism.  What if I thought that sentence was my idea, but it's really a hybrid of something that I read in Kant and crossed with Derrida.  Now I've said something that needs not one but two footnotes and I don't have any idea what page I should note as the source, because I've forgotten that the idea isn't mine to start with. 


    It's possible that my readers won't realize that the ideas in the essay have been spoken before.  It's even possible that if they 'catch' me explaining faith in the same way that Tillich explained it they'll graciously say, "well, after all, there's nothing new under the sun."  But I stare at the blank monitor and hope for a thought that I can say is truly mine. 

  • PS ~


    Tim saw my blog yesterday and put a ball of Terry's Pure Milk Chocolate on my desk.  What a man!  (Of course, he also suggested two additions to the list - so I'm adding ornery and contrary.) 



    Rainy Days


    I tried to take a photo of George the Hamster when he was in the guitar, but it came out too dark.  I do have pix from afterward to show that he survived the experience, but Xanga isn't cooperating with me on the upload.  I wanted to be outside today working on flowerbeds and landscaping, but it's drizzly and cold.  I hate it that I can't do what I want when I want it.  I've been trying to think of a good word to sum up my outlook today and I haven't found one.  I have a list of possibilities that include


    crabby
    petulant
    bored
    unsatisfied
    moody
    grumpy
    irritable
    peevish
    cross (I like cross pretty well, that may be the best of the list)
    annoyed
    tired
    touchy
    exasperated
    restless
    discouraged
    malcontent
    sulky
    dejected
    morose
    grouchy
    and we can't leave off ~ depressed


    all because its a gray day.  Well, not all because of the grayness.  I'm also out of chocolate.  But then not just because I'm out of chocolate, I also have nothing unread on my bookshelf.  Moreover, there is nothing I want to watch on television, look up online, or write about.  I yelled at Tucker because he was laughing too loud!?!  If I were my child, I'd send myself to bed for a nap.  Come to think of it, I have an inner child ~ maybe I can give it a time~out and try this whole "have a good day thing" again later. 

  • Have you ever tried to get a hamster out of a guitar?

  • Spring has taken a step back in my neighborhood.  We have cold wet rain falling at the moment.  The sound of water dripping off the eaves makes me sleepy.  So even though I've been up for a couple of hours, I'm still trying to get my eyes open.  Coffee helps, but I'm out of that sinful Amaretto creamer that I like to glob into the cup, so I'm not enjoying it as much as I usually do.  


    I'm still reading Kiekegaard.  SO in the absence of a thought of my own, I'd like to share another passage from his essays.  As a reminder, when Kierkegaard  speaks of love, he isn't talking about a feeling, but rather a set of behaviors intended to enhance the dignity of the person who is the object of love.  Tolerance, respect, compassion, and mercy - all these become acts of love when our design is to lift up, to build up that which Kierkegaard says potentially exists in all persons, the capacity to show tolerance, respect, compassion, and mercy.  In this way, he says, love calls forth love.


    When Love Is Secure 

    Only when it is a duty to love is love secured; secured against the ravages of change, eternally and happily secured against despair.   However joyous, happy, indescribably confident, instinctive and inclinational, spontaneous and emotional love may be - it still needs to establish itself more securely in the strength of duty.  Only in the security of the eternal is all anxiety cast out.  For in spontaneous love, however confident it be, there still resides an anxiety, a dread over the possibility of change.  Yet in the you shall it is forever decided; one's love is forever secure.  Every other love can be changed into something else.


    Spontaneous emotional love can be changed, for instance, to its opposite, to hate or by a kind of spontaneous combustion it can become jealousy.  From being the greatest happiness it can change into the greatest torment.  The heat of spontaneous love is so dangerous - no matter how great its passion - that it can very quickly become a poisonous fever.

    Worst of all is how spontaneous love can gradually be changed through the years - as when a fire gradually consumes itself.  Human love can lose its ardor, its joy, its desire, its originative power, its living freshness.  As with the river which springs out of a rock and disperses farther down in the sluggishness of the dead-waters, so is love exhausted in the luke-warmness and indifference of habit.  Of all love's enemies habit is perhaps the most cunning.  It is cunning enough never to let itself be seen, for he who sees the habit for what it is, is saved from it.  The struggle is within ourselves to see it. 


    The way of habit changes human-inspired love into something unrecognizable.  When we become aware of how habit has changed our love, we long to make up for it, but do not exactly know how.  We do not know where we can go to buy new oil to rekindle out love.  Then we are liable to despair and to become weary of not ever being able to fan it into flame again.  What sadness it is to encounter a poverty-stricken man who had once lived prosperously, and still how much more sorrowful than this to see a human-inspired love changed almost to loathsomeness!


    Genuine love, love transformed and sustained by the eternal, however, will never become characterized by habit; habit can never get power over it.  To what is said of eternal life, that there is no sighing and no tears, one can add: there is no habit.  If you are to save your soul or your love from habit's cunning - though people blindly believe there are all kinds of ways of keeping oneself awake and secure - then you must heed the eternal's you shall.  This alone will preserve you.  This alone will keep your love alive.


    Some of you responded to the last Kierkegaard excerpt by talking saying "Love is a Decision."  I think that the above segment agrees with and explains why this definition of 'love' is true.  Only by avoiding habit,  automatic response to the person we love are we able to keep our love fresh.  Habit subtly moves us from seeing the person as he really is to seeing an after image of the person the way he was in a previous encounter.  The decision to rise above habit, and to be fully in the moment of each encounter enables us to shed the baggage of long months and years of relationship which have worn us into a stale pattern.  Just as the screen saver protects our monitor by spreading the light around, focus on the actual, the real, the present saves us by preventing our behavior from burning to deep in one area of relationship while neglecting another. 


    As an aside, there is a fabulous little book by Gary Smalley, entitled Love is a Decision.  Taking Kierkegaard's premise into family therapy, he gives practical suggestions for shifting your married-love relationship from the ruts of habit into freshness.  It's not easy to let go of the past.  The tragedy of habit is that it ends in the realization that in spite of years living together you don't know your lover at all.  The salvation offered by Kiekegaard's duty, or Smalley's decision is that you constantly monitor and correct your perception so that you are seeing the person as he actually is, not as he was or as you imagine him to be. 


    I see that the coffee in my cup is growing cold.  I believe I'll offer it the dignity of a warm-up. 

  • My breakfast tried to boss me this morning.  Tim chose today for one of his baking marathons, which we all appreciate, so the kids and I sneaked in long enough to grab something quick before getting out of his way.  I grabbed a Lean Pocket©.  Turkey, Broccoli and Cheese to be precise.  Pretty decent as convenience foods go.


    As I was popping it into the microwave, I noticed the words on the wrapper Try All 13 Flavors ~ Next Time Try Bacon, Egg and Cheese!  Then Sausage, Egg and Cheese!  I wonder if this actually ever works.  I mean do people say, "oh, my!  13 Flavors, how will I ever decide - oh, thank Madison Avenue! Bacon, Egg and Cheese is next.  And for convenience as I'm making out my shopping list, the next after that is . . ."  I don't like it when anyone gives me a direct command.  There few people I acknowledge as authorities over me in the first place, and even they are expected to frame their instructions as requests, "Honey would you mind very much . . . " - "Sure thing, Sugar, I'll be glad to . . . " 


    It's not hard to get my cooperation.  I cooperate all the time with all kinds of people.  It's a lot harder to get my obedience.  An ad campaign that tries to boss me around will fail on sheer principle.  I'm okay with missing out on the other 12 flavors in order to retain my power of discretion.