Freedom

From the First Unitarian of South Bend’s Facebook page:  “Freedom from debt is one form of liberation I seek. What about you?”  My answer, I’d like to be free of the urge to complain.  I even want to stop complaining about people who complain a lot.

A few minutes later, there is this from Tricycle: The Buddhist Review:

Whenever we find fault with others, whether through anger, contemptuous certainty, self-righteousness, or gossip, it is often based in fear. We may not be aware of our fears, but when we look deeply, we may discover the fear of rejection, loss of control, of unworthiness, or the fear of disconnection. But refraining alone is not enough—by itself it is just behavior modification—and it is neither healing nor transformative. Only through uncovering and consciously entering into the deep hole inside, welcoming the fear with curiosity and compassion, can we ultimately reconnect with the basic wholeness of our true nature. —Ezra BaydaDefault

Patterns of Intimacy

Pilar Jennings writes of the patterns found in creating intimacy:

As skillful therapists from all schools of thought know, our ability to find and sustain healthy interpersonal experience does not depend on a history of perfect attunement. There is no such thing as two people—whether baby and mother, two lovers, or teacher and student—being perfectly in sync with each other’s needs and wishes. Real intimacy arises from an ongoing process of connection that at some point is disrupted and then, ideally, repaired. I think of this as an interpersonal crochet stitch: connection, disruption, repair, over and over again, until a fabric is created with enough strength and flexibility to endure the wear of any two people attempting to know one another.

Rather lovely I think.  Possible?

What do we know?

On Sunday, I took my son to see two movies at a French film festival that was in town. The local train was out. We walked over to Amsterdam to flag down a cab. The cab rolled right past us and picked up two young-ish white women. It's sort of amazing how often that happens. It's sort of amazing how often you think you are going to be permitted to act as Americans do and instead receive the reminder—"Oh that's right, we are just some niggers. I almost forgot." 

This is how Ta-Nehisi Coates’ blog post begins this morning.  It’s an angry but thoughtful take on being black and male in America in 2014.

I was inspired to look up this song with Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, and Carl Perkins after seeing Million Dollar Quartet last Friday night.  The most poignant line in the play was when the owner of Sun Records said something like this:  I just wish those boys could have been happier.

Andrew Solomon writes a heart-breaking and compassionate account of an interview with Peter Lanza, father of the Sandy Hook shooter Adam Lanza.  One of the frustrating pieces of this story is there appears to be no one to blame.  Even in hind-sight, there are almost no signs that Adam would commit such violence.  It is a story that requires us to live with no answers.  Solomon describes Peter Lanza’s dilemma:

Interview subjects usually have a story they want to tell, but Peter Lanza came to these conversations as much to ask questions as to answer them. It’s strange to live in a state of sustained incomprehension about what has become the most important fact about you. 

Solomon seems to say, sometimes things just go bad. I hate that, but there is something reassuring about Solomon and Lanza's search the the facts.

Beyond Default

Everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe, the realest, most vivid and important person in existence. We rarely talk about this sort of natural, basic self-centeredness, because it's so socially repulsive, but it's pretty much the same for all of us, deep down. It is our default-setting, hard-wired into our boards at birth. Think about it: There is no experience you've had that you were not at the absolute center of. The world as you experience it is right there in front of you, or behind you, to the left or right of you, on your TV, or your monitor, or whatever. Other people's thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are so immediate, urgent,real -- you get the idea…. People who can adjust their natural default-setting…are often described as being "well adjusted," which I suggest to you is not an accidental term.

The above is from s speech given by David Foster Wallace to the 2005 graduating class of Kenyon College.  The whole speech used to be found online.  Since then, it has been published as a short book called This Is Water, and now only pieces of it are online.  More exerts are here plus some audio.  This site calls Wallace's speech "one of the most timeless graduation speeches of all time." I think it's a very good speech, and I thought of it this week as I noticed myself falling needlessly into default mode.

I’ve been spending the week in Florida walking along some beaches that have touched my heart.  Then this morning there was a lovely poem by e. e. cummings on Andrew Sullivan’s blog that intensified the feelings of beauty.  The conclusion of the poem is below, and the whole poem is here.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.

Who would then deny that when I am sipping tea in my tearoom I am swallowing the whole universe with it and that this very moment of my lifting the bowl to my lips is eternity itself transcending time and space?” 

― D.T. Suzuki, Zen and Japanese Culture

We Are the World

I have obviously failed to galvanize and prod, if not shame enough Americans to be ever vigilant not to let a Chicago communist-raised, communist-educated, communist-nurtured subhuman mongrel like the ACORN community organizer gangster Barack Hussein Obama to weasel his way into the top office of authority in the United States of America.”  (Ted Nugent)

These harsh words have been rolling around in my mind this week.  On my initial reading of them, I felt shocked, even assaulted.  These words seem to symbolize the ways Americans are divided from one another.  As I read a little more about Nugent, I decided he may be too extreme in his speech to symbolize the divisions between us, but still, few Republicans have strongly repudiated his words.  But the real question in my mind isn’t just these particular words.  Rather it is, how do people deal with a difference in opinion especially an important opinion that may determine how a country is governed?  Probably most of us have, at some time, made rude comments about not only politicians but also about acquaintances, people in our circle of friends, maybe even family members.  Is that good for us?

There is a certain satisfaction in a clever putdown.  But it adds to a wall of separation between us and others.  Theoretically, we know that isn’t good.  It is discouraged by most religions and ethical systems.  But on a practical level, it can feel very good. One antidote is to see ourselves as one, one of the group called Americans (or whatever your country) or even the group called people of the world.  Can we imagine ourselves as one?  Can we imagine ourselves as Ted Nugent?  Or Barack Obama?  Sometimes I can.

…I have a responsibility to God to walk the path He's laid. In spite of my anger, and my fear that we won’t get the verdict that we want, I am still called by the God I serve to walk this out.

Ta-Nehisi Coates interviewed Lucia McBath, mother of Jordan Davies, the Arican-American teenager shot by Michael Dunn.  I pray her path gets easier, but as a mother, I know the pain will never disappear.  

Home Movies

Below Ken Wilber gives a good introduction as to what beginning meditation is like.  Personally, I still find it difficult to go beyond this stage.

When you practice meditation, one of the first things you realize is that your mind—and your life, for that matter—is dominated by largely subconscious verbal chatter. You are always talking to yourself. And so, as they start to meditate, many people are stunned by how much junk starts running through their awareness. They find that thoughts, images, fantasies, notions, ideas, concepts virtually dominate their awareness. They realize that these notions have had a much more profound influence on their lives than they ever thought.

A Love Story, the Driving Part

I’m posting this story partly because I like it, and partly because now it will be easy to find if I want to refer to the driving tips.  In this USA Today story, Michael Gartner describes his parents’ relationship, particularly how they drove their car.

 After he retired, my father [who didn’t drive] almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along….As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
"No left turns," he said.

"What?" I asked.

All You Need, cont'd

"...one day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal we seek, but that it is the means by which we arrive at that goal..."  Martin Luther King Jr.

All You Need...

"Mock sappy, sentimental expressions of romance even as you carry out futuristic experiments in radically slaphappy love." Rob Brezsney

Don't Go Blindly

Experience without theory is blind, but theory without experience is mere intellectual play.  Immauel Kant 

I have posted a similar quotation before.  I thought of it this morning when I sat down for meditation.  I can’t imagine meditation having any meaning without a theory of practice behind it.  I try to continue studying meditation theory.  It helps keep the practice fresh.

I’m guessing that most areas of our lives are supported by theory of some kind though that theory may be unconscious and dictated by the culture around us.  This Valentine’s Day, I want to remind myself that there are theories that can support my desire to be a loving compassionate person.  There's always time to see more clearly.

Quotation for Today

Meditation, simply defined, is a way of being aware. It is the happy marriage of doing and being. It lifts the fog of our ordinary lives to reveal what is hidden; it loosens the knot of self-centeredness and opens the heart; it moves us beyond mere concepts to allow for a direct experience of reality.

- Lama Surya Das, The Heart-Essence of Buddhist Meditation

I Practice

I practice meditation. The people in my meditation group (sangha) call it sitting practice or just sitting. I don't talk about it much, but sometimes I'll mention to a friend that I met with my meditation group.  I’m often kind of surprised that they don’t ask questions about it, but I’m relieved too.  I'm not sure what to say about a decision to sit in silence just trying to focus on my breath.

Media reports talk of how meditation improves blood pressure, stress, and health in general.  I always find these reports alarming.  They seem to imply that without meditation, I would be even sicker and crazier than I am now.

Last week I attended a meditation retreat from Wednesday evening until Sunday noon.  Most of that time, I did not speak.  There were a lot of scheduling difficulties involved in going away for these days, so I talked about my plans more than usual, and people did comment.  It sounded like they pictured me spending that time in a peaceful trance.  Actually some of the time was wonderfully peaceful.  But sometimes, it was boring—so boring.  And tiring too.  I’m not used to sitting so much and for the last meditation after dinner, I could hardly get comfortable.  I did find it interesting how well I slept—I thought this an indication of what hard work meditation is.

So, why do I do it?  One of the basics in the introduction to meditation is, we meditate to discover our true nature and to learn that we are not separate from anything.  Does that happen?  Did it happened last week?  Yes and no.  I was in touch with great feelings of tenderness toward the people in the meditation room, tenderness toward the house we stayed in and the beautiful snowy grounds. But I knew I would go home and struggle to hold onto that tenderness.  As I expected, it doesn’t come as easily in the "real world," but it hasn’t gone away either.  And the memory of the retreat’s intense tenderness speaks to me of a reassuring truth about my connectedness to the world.  I am very moved and nourished by that.

Do I recommend meditation practice?  Yes, if it speaks to you, check it out.  If you think it should speak to you, but it doesn’t quite, you might read about it to help you make your decision.  I probably read about meditation and the philosophy that goes with it for three or four years before I actually seriously tried it.  I personally think it’s not the cure-all touted in popular media with claims of relaxation and pain relief.  Paradoxically, I think it’s better than those claims.  It has given me a sense of belongingness to this life, both to the “good” and “bad.”  I think this will get stronger. That's good.

This video "The Fruits of Zen Practice" explains it in a more organized fashion than I do.

               

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."  That's a good quotation from Camus that seems appropriate for our South Bend weather. I stumbled across it today, but I don't know the context.  I assume he was being hopeful.

At the New Yorker site, Sasha Weiss discusses the counter claims of Dylan Farrow and Woody Allen.  In her discussion she says,

These things are difficult to talk about, which is why they are worth talking about. 

What a useful idea.  It could apply to so many things we don't want to talk about.

Living with Fiction

I finished the novel The Signature of All Things a couple of weeks ago, and ever since, Elizabeth Gilbert’s story has been floating in and out of my mind and inspiring once again, the question, what is the relationship between fiction and reality?  Beyond entertainment, what are the possibilities with a novel like Signature? 

The novel’s main character, Alma Whittaker, is a 19^th century naturalist whose specialty is studying and writing about moss.  She develops both a great curiosity and appreciation for mosses and the ways they grow and adapt.  You might say she develops a tenderness for moss; you might say, her tenderness takes her into a mysticism that leads her to feel connected to all of nature.

I suppose this novel allows me to feel this tenderness as well, not necessarily toward moss, but toward the beauty and mystery of nature.  I too can feel the love exper- ienced by this fictional woman for the natural world.  That’s all I can make of it.  I think it’s enough.

"I Am Fortunate..."

Here’s another short passage from The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert spoken by the main character, Alma Whittaker:

I do truly believe I am fortunate.  I am fortunate because I have been able to spend my life in study of the world.  As such, I have never felt insignificant.  This life is a mystery, yes, and it is often a trial, but if one can find some facts within it, one should always do so—for knowledge is the most precious of all commodities.

From Pope Francis

“A religion without mystics is a philosophy.”

What We Need to Know about Poverty

Do you live in poverty?  Do you know anyone who does?  Does poverty exist in another world from the one you live in?

Last week I attended a workshop called “Building a Sustainable Community:  Why Poverty Matters.”  I attended because it was sponsored by the Bridges Out of Poverty organization (Bridges), and I have been intrigued by their work. I learned that “4 out of 5 adult Americans will experience economic uncertainty during their lifetimes.”  And I learned how different that experience can be, depending on a variety of factors.  Bridges has a “dynamic” definition of poverty: “The extent to which an individual does without resources.”

There was a period in my life where my financial resources were low, but my educational and family resources have always been high.  People in generation poverty are usually “under resourced” in many areas.

Some facts from the day...

I have just finished reading The Signature of All Things, a novel by Elizabeth Gilbert.  Here is one of my favorite sentences:

 A person cannot marvel in dumbstruck amazement forever…

The Long View, from the President

What Barack Obama said in an interview with David Remick:

I think we are born into this world and inherit all the grudges and rivalries and hatreds and sins of the past. But we also inherit the beauty and the joy and goodness of our forebears. And we’re on this planet a pretty short time, so that we cannot remake the world entirely during this little stretch that we have....But I think our decisions matter.  And I think America was very lucky that Abraham Lincoln was President when he was President. If he hadn’t been, the course of history would be very different. But I also think that, despite being the greatest President, in my mind, in our history, it took another hundred and fifty years before African-Americans had anything approaching formal equality, much less real equality. I think that doesn’t diminish Lincoln’s achievements, but it acknowledges that at the end of the day we’re part of a long-running story. We just try to get our paragraph right.

The Perfect Song

Usually, I post songs on Sunday, but I can’t wait.  This one is too perfect!

You Can't Be Cool"

"Never  try to look cool and learn something at the same time. You must have an awkward phase. All of us would like to skip that awkward phase. That is not how it works. Here is how it works: Get your ass in the water. Swim like me."  Na-Nehisi Coates

Ta-Nehisi Coates (my favorite blogger) has been reading Bloodlands: Europe between Hitler and Stalin, Timothy Snyder's book about millions of murders in Europe between 1933 and 1945.  The details shared by Coates are horrific.  The book lists so many atrocities, Coates worries it might numb the reader.  Still he says,

...I think Snyder frames the questions correctly--How can men commit such acts? The question is not answered by empty invocations of "evil" or vague invocations of "sociopathy." The question is not answered by memorializing victims (though this has its place) or the construction of national oaths (though that too might have its place.) On the contrary the question might best be answered, not by identifying with history greatest victims, but by identifying with its killers. This is in fact, as Snyder argues, the moral position.

He then quotes Snyder:

It is easy to sanctify policies or identities by the deaths of the victims. It is less appealing, but morally more urgent, to understand the actions of the perpetrators. The moral danger, after all, is never that one might become a victim but that one might be a perpetrator or a bystander.

Coates concludes,

I think that allows for a skeptical morality. I think that allows those of us on the socio-economic bottom to give up our righteousness, to understand that there is nothing super-moral, or blessed, or prophesied in being down here. The bottom is just the bottom. Can we truly say we'd be much different were we on top?

Yes You Can

For Christmas my daughter gave me a mix CD with a variety of songs.  The first time I listened to it, I was driving to meet with my meditation group.  In that frame of mind, I concluded that most of the songs she had selected were Zen songs, and I found the Zen label made "You Can't always Get..." more moving than usual.  The video, from 2013, is of mediocre quality, but I like that it is done with the University Of Southern California Thornton Chamber Choir as the first recording, released in 1969, was done with the London Bach Choir providing some of the background.  

Change the law. Change the numbers.

The chart above was posted today on The Dish and it shows one of the worst flaws of current drug policy.  Most sources say that blacks and whites use marijuana at about the same rates.  Yet, look at the above incarceration rates.  Let’s not raise the arrest numbers for whites; let’s reduce arrests. Period.

Me, Me, Me

From Pema Chödrön:

There is a saying that is the underlying principle of tonglen and slogan practice:  Gain and victory to others, loss and defeat to myself.”  The Tibetan word for pride or arrogance, which is nya-gyal, is literally in English “me-victorious.”  Me first.  Ego.  That kind of “me-victorious” attitude is the cause of all suffering.

She goes on to explain that “loss and defeat" does not mean allowing ourselves to be beat up.  It means “you can open your heart” to feeling bad and “know what defeat feels like."  It’s the me-victorious attitude that intrigues me.  It reminds me of times when even in a conversation about nothing very important, I was striving for victory.

The View from My Front Porch

Around 8:15 AM, January 5, 2014

In this example "Cool Ad" is not an oxymoron

Readers of The Dish chose the ad above as the second coolest ad of 2013.  The coolest ad is also good, but the ad above relates to one of the themes of this blog, the need for better gun laws. It has been called the "best gun control commercial ever produced" and makes an interesting point about the Second Amendment.

Different Democratic Manifestations

As a United States citizen, I tend to think of our two-party system as typical of democracy, even though I hear, from time-to-time, of many political parties existing in other democracies.  Frances Moore Lappé explains:

[I]t’s worth noting that our two-party stranglehold is an anomaly.  In Germany, five major parties participate in parliament; in Sweden, it’s seven parties; and in the Netherlands, eleven.  In fact, in most of Western Europe, the former Soviet Union, and in a majority of the emerging democracies of Eastern Europe, a party can win a certain minimum of the national vote—in some countries as low as 4 or 5 percent—and still participate in the government.

I'm jealous.

(From Democracy's Edge)

Be Here Now

Eckhart Tolle says,

A vital question to ask yourself frequently is:  What is my relationship with the present moment?  Then become alert to find out the answer.  Am I treating the Now as no more than a means to an end?  Do I see it as an obstacle?  Am I making it into an enemy?  Since the present moment is all you ever have, since Life is inseparable from the Now, what the question really means is:  What is my relationship with Life?

Try Awe!

I am intrigued by this report on the benefits of awe.

People increasingly report feeling time-starved, which exacts a toll on health and well-being," states the study. Using three experiments, researchers Melanie Rudd and Jennifer Aaker of the Stanford University, and Kathleen Vohs of the University of Minnesota, examined whether awe can expand perceptions of time availability. They found that participants "who felt awe, relative to other emotions, felt they had more time available, were less impatient, were more willing to volunteer their time to help others, and more strongly preferred experiences over material goods.

Another idea originating at The Dish.

We are here...

From Annie Dillard:

We are here to abet creation and to witness it, to notice each thing so each thing gets noticed. Together we notice not only each mountain shadow and each stone on the beach but we notice each other's beautiful face and complex nature so that creation need not play to an empty house.

Developing Empathy

I spend about eight years of my life waiting tables, and there was much I liked about the job.  I grew up before sports was promoted for women, so waitressing seemed like my first athletic success.  Also, when the restaurant got really busy, being in the present moment was the only possibility.  Worries, if only for the shift, disappeared.  When I’m at a restaurant with someone who gives rude orders to the staff, I assume they have never waited tables.  I sometimes think everybody should have a turn as wait-staff.

Everybody Dies

Recently, Andrew Sullivan reported on his blog that he had the flu and was dividing his time between writing and shitting.  I like Sullivan, but I filed this under too-much-information.

I understand it better today.  Yesterday, I had a colonoscopy.  I had a lot of time to consider my colon, its function, and its products.  First there was the “prep.”  Then there was procedure itself and the many kind people at the clinic who were concerned with my comfort but also concerned that  my prep had produced a “clean” colon.

Complaining, Cont'd

Everything I've written about complaining and its lack of usefulness feels true.  Now I have this heightened sensitivity to my own complains (which are often silent).  So I am now—after all these years—surprised at how unbidden my complaints are—surprised sometimes at the self-righteous pleasure they can provide—amused at how often I complain about the complaints of others.

When I began practicing meditation, it seems I was always hearing, “You are not your thoughts.”  Thank goodness for that.

How Many People Have Been Killed by Guns Since Newtown?

I have posted statistics before from the above named website.  The answer to that question today is 11,449.  But now the Slate sponsors of this site discuss why their numbers are not accurate.  Their statistics report on gun deaths reported in the media.  Suicides are not usually reported in the media and have therefore been missing from Slate’s numbers.  They estimate their chart is missing 20,000 gun deaths.

Truth and Reconciliation

In an interesting article at the Daily Beast, Peter Beinart criticizes the American media for focusing on Nelson Mandela’s capacity for forgiveness while ignoring his insistence that those guilty needed to acknowledge that guilt in the process called Truth and Reconciliation.  Deinart quotes Bishop Desmond Tutu who says,

True reconciliation exposes the awfulness, the abuse, the hurt, the truth…because in the end only an honest confrontation with reality can bring real healing. Superficial reconciliation can bring only superficial healing.

It seems there is something important in this for the United States. It also seems an appropriate addendum to the racial history explored in 12 Years a Slave. I recommend Beinart’s entire article.

12 Years a Slave

I saw 12 Years a Slave two nights ago.  I was reluctant to see what I had heard was a difficult film to view.  It was that.  But I walked out of the theater feeling as if I had seen an explanation for much of the craziness that exists even now in this country.  Slaves were brutalized by their “owners.”  And the owners may have gotten rich from slave labor, but they were not made happy.  The movie made it clear that trying to own another human being was a constant stress, and while the master might control the slave’s behavior, he could not own the person.  So all lived in painful insanity.  And we live with the legacy of that insanity still today.

There is a way that I knew most of the facts contained in the film.  However, the film conveyed the tension between slave and master in such a way, that I left thinking, yes, that’s how it would have to have been.  There was a visceral understanding of what was before mostly intellectual.  Before the movie, I picked up the idea that I needed to see this movie to understand something important about my country.  I believe this is true and highly recommend this movie.

The review from the Guardian is here.  If you live near Three Oaks, Michigan, you have until December 15 to see this film at The Vickers.

The Dark Side of My Computer

I stopped downtown yesterday at a computer repair shop to see if anything could be done to make my laptop operate more reliably. 

The short answer was no.

The long answer was something like this:

• Computers are complicated machines, and they don’t last forever.  (Even can openers don’t last forever.)
• One day your computer will shut down and you won’t be able to get your documents back.  This can happen with a new computer too.
• If you don’t like this, you can use a typewriter.
• Save.

Complaining, cont'd

“Complaining is one of the ego’s favorite strategies for strengthening itself.”  A week ago, I posted this quotation from Eckhart Tolle.  This idea has been on my mind for a few weeks now, and I’ve been noticing my little complaints, noticing how they cut me off from others, even if only a little bit.  Paying attention to the mind is interesting.  So often, these complaints come to me unbidden, and often, they produce a certain kind of self-righteous enjoyment.

Tolle distinguishes between complaining and informing someone of a mistake that can be made right.

Tee Shirt Trivia

I heard this interesting fact this morning on Morning Edition:  It takes six miles of yarn (what we call thread) to make a simple tee shirt.  (More here)

Sad Numbers

Here’s a sad statistic from Paul Krugman:

Despite the lingering effects of the financial crisis, America is a much richer country than it was 40 years ago. But the inflation-adjusted wages of nonsupervisory workers in retail trade — who weren’t particularly well paid to begin with — have fallen almost 30 percent since 1973. 

Pumpkin Pie

The quotation below is from Ryan O’Hanlon in his article “In Praise of Pumpkin Pie:”

Without pumpkin pie, there would be no reason to continue with this elegiac revisionist-historical sham that is Thanksgiving. Without it, we’re left with bland, unfrozen white meat that always looks better than it tastes, an excuse to not actually bake bread, mashed potatoes (which are actually pretty good, I’ll admit), and continued suppression of what happened to the Native Americans after the first meal was over.

 Yesterday I posted a passage from Eckhart Tolle on the problem with complaining.  And for some reason, I love O’Hanlon’s complaint.  Maybe it’s the humor.

The One Day

This is a nice meditation on gratefulness and appreciating the present moment.

Who me...complain?

Complaining is one of the ego’s favorite strategies for strengthening itself.

I know I read this line by Eckhart Tolle (in A New Earth) years ago. I read it again a few weeks ago and this time it has been hanging on.  I’ve started noticing my complaints and how, when I pay attention, I can feel the wall they create that separates me from something, often a person who has inspired my complaining.  I am fascinated by the prevalence of complaining and some of the trivial things that inspire it.  This awareness has lessened slightly my complaining mind.  Sometimes I laugh at the things I complain about.  I am curious about the nature and value, if any, of this addicting habit.

 

Song of the Week

Remembering History

Last night, I entertained eleven friends with dinner at my house.  It only seemed natural to go around the table and see what everybody was doing 50 years ago on November 22, 1963, the day President Kennedy was shot.  Ten of us were in school at various levels, one was beyond school and working, and one of the women, Elena, was not yet born in 1963.  The stories were pretty standard except that three of these people were immigrants.  Deeb was in Bethlehem at the time, and he remembers one of the teachers running into the room with the news.  Ian was born in Scotland.  His memories didn’t mesh with the times he was getting from those of us from the states, so he questioned the accuracy of his memories. 

Fifty years ago today and I am speechless, reduced to clichés.  We were clustered around our one television set pondering the power of one second to change what we knew.

This quotation comes from a review in The Economist of Out of Time: The Pleasures and the Perils of Ageing by Lynne Segal. 

“The great secret that all old people share,” observed Doris Lessing, a Nobel prize-winning author, at 73, is that “your body changes, but you don’t change at all.” The effect is confusing, she explained—no less so, surely, now that she is 94 [until her death two days ago]. Old age often brings loneliness and sadness, but also a greater appreciation of the transience of all things—a thought that can be moving, not just depressing.  

Dreamy. Soothing. Knitting?

The Dish posted this quotation form Jenny Diski’s longarticle on knitting.  As someone who meditates and goes to the gym, I was interested in her comparisons.  Maybe when I have time, I’ll read her whole article.  Maybe I'll finish knitting the scarf I started two years ago.

As everyone says who knits, there is a dreamy, calming pleasure to knitting. You want to do more. The edges of anxiety are rounded off, you can feel the drip of endorphins soothing the rat in the solar plexus. Needles clicking, mind half on the pattern, half drifting. People liken it to meditation and gym work. I’ve done both, and it’s true. Trancelike sometimes. That simple repetitive work with the hands has a tranquillising effect is not a new insight, but it does work.

Song of the Week

I remember a few years ago it seemed that everywhere I turned, I would hear Pachelbel Canon.  Now it's been years since I heard it.  Until yesterday.  I was writing in my notebook at the Main Street Coffee house.  This place was full of conversation and rattling dishes.  And then, under all the other noise, I heard it, as if it was playing secretly.  Sweet.

Writing My Heart Out

On October 31, I wrote that November is National Novel Writing Month.  The challenge is to write a 50,000-word novel during the month of November.  That’s short as novels go, but it’s a lot to do in a month.  So far I’m on schedule.  Last Sunday was very busy but I was a few hundred words ahead so I caught up in a couple of days. 

This has been a surprisingly energizing project.  That’s one reason I like it.  The other reason is surprises.  On Tuesday, my protagonist, during a phone call to his girlfriend, asked her to marry him.  I didn’t see it coming, but it felt right.

Most of us have experienced getting lost in a novel.  It’s even more intense when the novel you get lost in is one you are writing.

I’ve passed the halfway mark.  But I still don’t know if I’ll be writing on November 30.  Mostly, I just take it one day at a time.

And you say you never win anything...

I have often contemplated the amazing coincidences that led to my birth, so I was delighted to read this by Tim Maudlin. 

It can be unsettling to contemplate the unlikely nature of your own existence, to work backward causally and discover the chain of blind luck that landed you in front of your computer screen, or your mobile, or wherever it is that you are reading these words. For you to exist at all, your parents had to meet, and that alone involved quite a lot of chance and coincidence. If your mother hadn’t decided to take that calculus class, or if her parents had decided to live in another town, then perhaps your parents never would have encountered one another. But that is only the tiniest tip of the iceberg. Even if your parents made a deliberate decision to have a child, the odds of your particular sperm finding your particular egg are one in several billion. The same goes for both your parents, who had to exist in order for you to exist, and so already, after just two generations, we are up to one chance in 10²⁷. Carrying on in this way, your chance of existing, given the general state of the universe even a few centuries ago, was almost infinitesimally small. You and I and every other human being are the products of chance, and came into existence against very long odds.

I'm glad I made it through the odds.  I'm enjoying this life.  But if I hadn't been born, I wouldn't have minded would I?

Sunday Song (on Monday): Nourishing the Corny Side

Fall Back and Spring Forward

For years, my state of Indiana in the Eastern Time Zone stayed on the same time all year round.  Here in South Bend, during the summer, we were in the same zone as our Central Time Zone neighbors in Chicago, and in the winter, we were in the same zone as our Michigan Eastern time zone neighbors.  In 2006, we adopted daylight savings time, and it is still a subject of controversy.  So, Sunday, setting back my clock, I thought of it as a futile attempt to have more daylight when there is only so much daylight to have.  Whether you like to have the extra daylight in morning or evening seems more a matter of preference than anything else. Personally, I liked it when we didn’t change, but I was surprised that, when we switched to Daylight Savings Time, I also like summer nights where daylight lasted until 9:30 PM.

Allison Schrager has a different kind of proposal to what seems these days like sacred dogma:

This year, Americans on Eastern Standard Time should set their clocks back one hour (like normal), Americans on Central and Rocky Mountain time do nothing, and Americans on Pacific time should set their clocks forward one hour. After that we won’t change our clocks again—no more daylight saving. This will result in just two time zones for the continental United States. The east and west coasts will only be one hour apart. Anyone who lives on one coast and does business with the other can imagine the uncountable benefits of living in a two-time-zone nation (excluding Alaska and Hawaii).

I think I could like it.

(Another blog idea from the Dish.  The history of time in Indiana here.)

Resisting Obamacare

I can’t resist this powerful, partisan, political commentary from Michael Tomasky:

Someone I know asked the other day: Has there ever been a law in the history of the country as aggressively resisted by the political opposition as this? Republicans didn’t do this with Social Security. Most of them voted for Social Security. They didn’t do it with Medicare. They, and the Southern racists who were then Democrats, didn’t do it with civil rights. There was a fair amount of on-the-ground opposition to that, but it wasn’t orchestrated at the national level like this was. And when the Voting Rights Act was passed the year after civil rights, Southern states in fact fell in line quickly. Check the black voter-registration figures from Southern states in 1964 versus 1966. It’s pretty amazing. 

No, to find obstinacy like this, you have to go back, yes, to the pre-Civil War era. The tariff of 1828, the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which led to the civil war in “Bloody Kansas” and ultimately to the Civil War itself. Not  comforting thought. But it’s where we are.

(Thanks Sullydish) 

Sunday Song: Selfish Jean

I am rereading parts of The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins.  I was Googling for a review and came upon this song, “Selfish Jean,” which, under the circumstances, I love.  And the video is pretty entertaining too.

Another Well-Known Poet Writes Poems about Dogs

This morning while driving my car, I heard Billy Collins read the second poem on this video.  Collins has a nice voice;  the poem was a surprise.

What's your sign?

I’m not a horoscope person, not unless the horoscope is from Bob Brezsny’s Freewill Astrology.  And of course, at best, my Freewill Astrology horoscope could fit anyone with sort of a goofy wisdom.  So here’s my Libra horoscope for this week:  

What do you think you'd be like if you were among the one-percent-wealthiest people on Earth? Would you demand that your government raise your taxes so you could contribute more to our collective well-being? Would you live simply and cheaply so you'd have more money to donate to charities and other worthy causes? This Halloween season, I suggest you play around with fantasies like that -- maybe even masquerade as an incredibly rich philanthropist who doles out cash and gifts everywhere you go. At the very least, imagine what it would be like if you had everything you needed and felt so grateful you shared your abundance freely. 

I like it.