Apprentice Human in the Making...

CLOSING DOWN SHOP

2006-12-15T13:15:00.000-08:00

Well, I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't make much sense to maintain BOTH this blog and my other one over at Mind-Muffins. I write in the other one much more consistently.

For a while I tended to use the other blog for annonymous world conversations about big ideas and kept this one primarily for friends and family ... a place to post the comings and goings of my regular life and my spiritual ponderings.

Lately though, I've been more inclined to just integrate it all together at the other site...

So I'm probably not going to be posting much here anymore. From time to time I may show up, but then again maybe not.

I've appreciated all those who chose to read my ramblings and make comments. If you care to catch up with any more of what I have to say, I'll meet you over on Mind-Muffins.

Cheers,

LJB

Growing up Fast

2006-11-25T20:08:00.000-08:00

On Thanksgiving day my beautiful young grand-daughter, Kaylie Sierra, turned 12 years old. I am amazed by what a lovely young woman she is growing up to be.

Because I live many hundreds of miles away from Kaylie, I do not get to visit her near as often as I would like to. But I have pictures of her and her siblings all over my house and in my office at work to help me remember them each and every day. They are never far from my thoughts.

Kaylie has had some big challenges in her 12 years. Her parents split up when she was just a baby and it has been difficult going back and forth between mom's house and dad's house, trying to figure out what was truly "home". Also, she has had to move more times than I can count, between Michigan, Oregon, North Carolina...too often having to say goodbye to special friends. Looks like there may still be more moves yet to come. I know that is hard for her.

Recently she faced the challenge of new family dynamics as she gained a step-mom and four new siblings with her dad's recent marriage. That can't have been easy.

But through it all, Kaylie has developed a wonderful personality, has lots of talents and is genuinely one of the nicest people I know. (of course, proud grandma that I am, I'm not one bit biased!) Honestly, even if she were not my grand daughter, I would be proud to know her just because of the fine person she is. She's smart as a whip, has a wonderfully curious mind about the world, and is just plain fun to be with.

So happy birthday to you my dear Kaylie. Know that even though I'm far away, not a day goes by that I don't think of you and that I love you very, very much!

Giving Thanks

2006-11-21T22:55:00.000-08:00

As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday, I am feeling very grateful for so many things. Blessings that come to mind in no particular order include:

Clean running water that is safe to drink.

A husband who is kind, gentle and generous, and supremely patient with my unconventional ways that sometimes go beyond his comfort zone.

High speed internet .

A refrigerator with the freezer on the bottom - I honestly don't know why they are made any other way!

Rich relationships with siblings, cousins, friends, children, grandchildren.

The gift of literacy.

Fresh tomatoes from our garden, picked green before the frost that were wrapped carefully in newspaper and stowed away in the basement. LOVELY to have such yummies just now getting ripe in chilly November!

The new PalmPilot I got for my birthday from my brother. Thanks Wayne!

But most of all, of course, is the knowledge that I am a child of God and that He has a plan for me. I'm still trying to figure out what that plan is, but I've learned to trust that ALL things will ultlimately work out for good as I trust in Him.

The Miracle of Manna

2006-11-20T21:02:00.000-08:00

Ever since I was a little kid I’ve heard the stories of Moses leading the children of Israel through the wilderness and how they lived on something called Manna. More recently, I’ve studied the life of St. Mary of Egypt and pondered long and hard the lessons she had to teach me. But all of that was done with the mindset of the word “desert” or “wilderness” being interpreted from my own cultural experience. I grew up in Arizona where we have desert that is lush with cactus, wildflowers and other plants. A variety of birds, reptiles and mammals roam the land. I could well imagine someone surviving there. Granted, it would be difficult and painful at times. But it seemed possible to me.

Now that I’ve seen the Sinai, the whole concept of wandering in the wilderness takes on a whole new meaning for me. I am in awe that anyone could stay alive in that land. The miracle of manna holds a whole new sense of the miraculous. For miles and miles there is nothing but sand and rock. On first impression it seems like utter wasteland not even a lizard would claim. But after being there a while, I truly could sense why it would be the perfect place to let the soul grow quiet and learn to put absolute trust on the Lord.

Choosing the Sacred

2006-11-20T13:41:00.000-08:00

One of the places we visited in Egypt was St. Katherine's Monastery on Mt. Sinai. It was an amazing experience that touched my soul in ways difficult to express.

One of the things that was reaffirmed to me there was the importance of choosing to acknowledge the sacred in all of life, and to give special reverence to those places I know to be holy.

Bus loads of tourists come to see this place. In a few areas it was quite crowded with people from all over the world pointing, gawking, aiming video cameras and the like.

As I approached the chapel of the Burning Bush, I had to very willfully put out of my mind the crush of people all around talking and taking pictures so that I could go quiet inside to pray in this sacred place. I closed my eyes and opened up my heart as I repeated the Jesus Prayer for each of my Orthodox friends back home and then turned my spirit to more open communion with my Heavenly Father to seek repentance, to seek council of the Holy Spirit, to lift my face to the sky as a daughter of God.

In that moment it really didn't matter how many tourists were there. All that mattered was that I knew some powerful truths were being revealed to my mind if I were willing to accept them.

So it is each day - even here in my small town in Oregon. I can allow myself to get caught up in the busy events of daily life and focus on the problems of the world. Or I can choose to keep an eternal perspective, allowing myself to be open to the teachings of the Spirit day by day. The choice is mine. I don't have to go half way around the world to seek inspiration. While it was indeed a significant privilege to visit this holy site, I know that God can come to me in all times, in all places, if I will but go quiet inside and seek him.

Foods of Egypt

2006-11-20T13:01:00.000-08:00

One of the standard foods in Egypt is Pita bread. Every few blocks we would see street vendors like this one selling bread from their carts. Sometimes we'd see veiled women walking with huge platters stacked high with bread carried on their heads.

There were also lots of fruits and vegetables. We passed by fields where they grew the most giant cabbages I've ever seen. The land around the Nile delta is very fertile, and much valued for the agriculture possible there, which is important since so much of the country is harsh desert where nothing grows at all.

In the suburbs of "New Cairo" there are shopping malls with supermarkets very much like what you would find in the United States, but in the old city most everything is sold by street vendors or small shops specializing in one thing - meat or fruit or bread or what have you.

Most of the meat we ate was beef, chicken or lamb. I was told that camel is quite tasty and would have been willing to try it, but alas I never had the opportunity.

Back in the USA

2006-11-19T19:06:00.000-08:00

My husband and I have just returned from a 10 day trip to Egypt. It was an amazing journey. For me, this was a true spiritual pilgrimage. While I enjoyed seeing the ancient monuments and the museums, the most significant experiences of this trip were the times we spent in holy places. I spent much time in prayer and pondering. I read my scriptures. I considered all the things I have been taught as I looked into the faces of my brothers and sisters who are the children of Egypt. I asked my heart many questions about what I know to be true. I had some truly sacred experiences during this journey. I will be forever grateful to the Egyptian people for the sincere welcome they offered. In the coming weeks I hope to find time to post more of the pictures and thoughts I had about this trip. I'm thinking long and hard about what it means to me to be an American, a woman, and a Christian in light of the things I saw and felt in the Middle East. I am so deeply grateful for the experiences I was blessed with. At the same time, it feels awfully good to be home.

Madly, Crazy, Wildly in LOVE!

2006-10-30T07:08:00.000-08:00

One of the online courses I teach is Sociology of the Family. In the discussion area for that class the students have been debating whether or not it is possible for a single monogamous relationship to meet a couple's emotional needs throughout the life course and if it is realistic to expect such a relationship to remain passionate over many years. The opinions expressed have been all over the map. Some have said YES, that by making the right choices a relationship can continue to grow in power and intimacy. Others have insisted NO, that familiarity will wear the passion out over time.

This was my response:

After a quarter century of marriage I am madly, passionately, crazy in love with my husband. I look at him and I get weak in the knees. Yes, we have the comfortable security of a long term relationship. But we also have that catch in your throat, heat in the loins PASSION raging strong. I know it's possible. I'm living proof.
I know all too well that long term monogamous marriage is a huge challenge that can get derailed by a million and one things if you let it. But if both partners are willing to do the work it takes, the pay off is well worth it. This is a second marriage for both of us so we both know all too well what happens when the relationship is taken for granted or if either partner is more concerned with self than with the union.
Our happiness together is NOT a product of exclusively shiny circumstances. Our marriage has definitely had some big challenges - merging kids from both our first marriages into one family, dealing with the death of a child, an extended period of unemployment, moving eight different times due to corporate mergers, health crisis, you name it! We aren't blissful because it has been easy. We are best friends savoring our lives together because we have learned to operate as a supportive team during the tough times as well as the celebrations.
Life is messy and families are complicated. But YES, marital satisfaction is possible over the long haul. It's one of the greatest blessings of my life.

LJB

Fish Liberation

2006-10-28T21:58:00.000-07:00

Frodo and Sam have gone on a new journey. Not the ones in the Tolkein tale. The ones from my pond.

I have a small pond in my front yard with a bubbling, gurgling waterfall that I love to listen to while sitting out on my porch. Generally I've kept the thing running all winter long by putting a small stock tank heater in it to keep it from icing over.

However, I also have several giant, near 100 year old maple trees that are blanketing the yard (and therefore the pond) with many grand piles of leaves. It's a bit of a battle to keep it clear this time of year.

After giving it some thought, I decided to drain the pond and give the pump a rest for the winter this year. That will allow me to scrub the thing out good, get some new filter material and start fresh in the spring - with the added bonus of not having to keep scooping cold gooey leaves out of the water every few days all autumn long.

However, shutting down the pond for the first time in four years meant I had to find a new home for Frodo and Sam, the two giant Shubunkin fish who made kingdom there. So I scooped them into gallon sized zip log bags of water, put them in a bucket and carted them off to a new pond that happens to be at the college where I work. I walk from my office up to the pond just about every day on my lunch hour just to get some fresh air and exercise. So I'll get to visit my pals and watch them grow in the deeper, larger, more versatile environment. They also now have a whole host of new friends to get acquainted with.

The fish in the college pond are mostly just plain gold fish. I don't know if Shubunkin and goldfish are closely enough related to make babies together...I kinda hope so. My fish are beautiful mottled calico colors of black and white and gold with large, sweeping fins and extra fancy tails. The goldfish are just ordinary, run of the mill goldfish. I think it would be kind of cool if next summer I start to seem some multi-colored babies with long tails show up during my walks there.

The Good Old Days

2006-09-30T16:21:00.000-07:00

I was fretting over how hectic my life seems to be these days. Here we are living in this modern age full of miracle drugs, amazing technology, high speed travel and all sorts of conveniences, yet our lives seem to be more frazzled and frantic than our pioneer parents. I was thinking that it might have been nice to live in a time when there were fewer demands and not so many choices to make. I sometimes bemoan the sad state of the world and all the ugliness it holds...yeah, I know there is fabulous stuff to celebrate. But sometimes I see the war and greed and disasters of today and I long for simpler times.

And then I came across this scripture verse:

"Oh, that I could have had my days in the days when my father Nephi first came out of the land of Jerusalem, and that I could have joyed with him in the promised land; then were his people easy to be entreated, firm to keep the commandments of God, and slow to be led to do iniquity; and they were quick to hearken unto the words of the Lord-- Yea, if my days could have been in those days, then would my soul have had joy in the righteousness of my brethren. But behold, I am consigned that these are my days..." (Helaman 7:7-9)

It seems people have been longing for "the good old days" since way back when. Yet we each must live out whatever days we are given.

I am reminded of the exchange between Frodo and Gandalf in The Fellowship of the Ring:

Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. ..."

So I take a deep breath and keep plugging along, mastering my challenges as best as I can. I shine some. I fail some. But as long as I keep gettin' back up, I guess that's all that matters.

Refiners Fire

2006-08-20T20:15:00.000-07:00

I have no idea who the original author is of the following...it's one of those things that has been traveling around the internet for a while. But I liked it enough to post it here.

*******

Malachi 3:3 says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it could be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith,"How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.

Facing Adversity

2006-08-20T07:53:00.000-07:00

I've been watching the progress of the Herrin twins since their separation surgery. This family's courage and faith have been truly inspiring. I know the pain and struggle I've had over difficult things that have come up in my own children's lives. I can't even imagine what it would be like to face a challenge like this.

When our children suffer, we suffer. How God holds us, His spirit children, all in His infinite love I will never understand. Sometimes he must shake his head in exasperation at all the knucklehead things we do and situations we get ourselves into. Other times I am sure He weeps with sorry at our pain. Yet, because of His infinite wisdom, He knows that pain is an essential part of this mortal life. So much we cannot comprehend.

Why do terrible things happen to innocents? What purpose is served? What meaning could we / should we give the pain in our lives?

I've been working really hard at developing more of a "thy will be done" attitude in my prayers. I beg the Lord to take away a hurtful situation that is happening for a family member, but in the same prayer I acknowledge that He knows what will ultimately be best for all concerned and that I do understand this fallen, mortal world is a time of suffering for a reason. I can't always see what that reason is. Of course I want painful things to be removed. Even the Savior would have had the bitter cup he faced removed had it been possible...but in the end He said "thy will be done" so that is the path I am trying to take.

I want the things that hurt me or hurt my loved ones to be taken away. You bet I do! Beyond that, when I see the pain and suffering of so many throughout the world, I want to alleviate that hurting in any way I can. I think we MUST try to make the world a better place. Yet we also must acknowledge that pain and suffering will continue, and that part of the lesson of this life is to learn from it.

I'm afraid I still have a long, long way to go....

Mental illness

2006-08-19T23:11:00.000-07:00

Reading a recent post by Matthew triggered a whole bunch of questions in my mind...

In the Sociology course I teach we address the issue that statistically there are way more psychotic people among the "lower class" strata of our society than in other segments. There are two basic theories why this is the case:

1) SOCIAL IMPACT says that the stress of living in poverty, possibly experiencing homelessness, and generally living in more dangerous / unhealthy environments creates pressure that causes some people with a predisposition to mental illness to have a major break that they might not have had if they had experienced a more supportive environment. Meanwhile, according to this theory, there are plenty of people in the middle and upper classes that are more mentally fragile, but because they have reasonably comfortable lives with access to resources, they never fully break out into what we would consider psychosis.

2) SOCIAL DRIFT theory, on the other hand, says that ALL socio-economic groups have an equal occurrence of originally becoming mentally ill, but those that do from the higher classes are more likely to "drift down" in social mobility to the lower classes due to their illness interfering with their ability to cope with life's responsibilities and the healthy folk born into lower classes have the chance to "drift up" through hard work & education, leaving behind those who were ill equipped to make that transition. End result of both sorts of social mobility is more psychotics at the bottom of the ladder.

I suspect there is some of each of these factors at play...

Still others say that there is no such thing as mental illness at all, that it's all a social construct based on certain norms being acceptable and others not but who is to really say what "normal" is?? What is considered flaming crazy in one society may be very acceptable in another. Or, different times in history within the same society will name different types of behavior as "sick" or "ok".

At what point do we think of someone as "sorta quirky" and when do they cross the line into "mental illness"? To what degree should "bad behavior" or criminal acts be excused due to a diagnosed mental illness? How much mental anguish and difficulty should we expect simply because we live in a fallen, mortal world full of adversity and when does personal angst and misery cross over to "clinical depression"?

Lots of question...no clear answers. There is such a trend to medicalize behavior these days in order for individuals to qualify for "help". Things like "adolescent oppositional defiant disorder" used to be called being an out of control kid that needed some discipline. Alcoholism has run the gambit from being viewed as sin or weakness to being a disease. Homosexuality used to be viewed as a form of mental illness. Norms change, those in power take a new vote and suddenly it isn't anymore. Multiple Personality Disorder (now named Disocciative Identity Disorder) was once thought of as a very strange and rare thing.... the diagnostic criteria changed, a few workshops and organizations got popular and suddenly there were hundreds of cases being discovered all across the nation. Specialized units were opened in hospitals and a whole new subspecialty in treatment modalities was born. To what extent do we CREATE conceptions of mental illness in order to generate jobs/industry?

The DSM manual in all it's many incarnations tries to spell everything out clearly and tie it up with a bow....life, in my mind, is more complicated than that.

Power of Love

2006-08-19T10:06:00.000-07:00

A dear friend of mine in Arizona sent me this story - AMAZING...just had to share it.

*****
I try to be a good parent. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day. Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike.

Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life. This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. "He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;" Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an institution." But the Hoyts weren't buying it.

They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain." Tell him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? "Go Bruins!" And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that." Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles?

Still, he tried. "Then it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks." That day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!" And that sentence changed Dick's life.

He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. "No way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?" How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii.

It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together. This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time'? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

"No question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century." And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago." So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day. That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy. "The thing I'd most like, " Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once."

Here's the video.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjPrL3n63yg

Just a Bit of Nonsense

2006-08-17T14:19:00.000-07:00

Here is a silly little video that my daughter-in-law, Shanoa, sent today.
It made me laugh, so I figured I'd share it.

PERFECT MAN AND WOMAN

Ink Mouth

2006-08-12T10:48:00.000-07:00

Morgan Dog, the incorrigible Basset Hound, has struck again. She is usually quite a well behaved beast. Now that she's over a year old, most of her early puppy impulse to chew is behind her. When she was little (about the size pictured here) she would chew up anything she could get to. She destroyed a scarecrow out of our garden. She ruined some nice plants I'd gotten for our pond. (She tossed the parrot feather and lilies into the yard, but really went to town with chewing up the plastic pots they were in.) She's made a mess of plastic spatulas left out by the barbecue. She even used to like to chew up aluminum pop cans. As she got older she has responded fairly well to training and is now hardly a problem at all in the area of destruction. However, she does still consider anything left on the front porch as fair game. That is clearly her turf, and she delights in chewing up any item she finds there.

Which is a problem when I have packages delivered by UPS. She has eaten college text books sent by publishers. This time, she got the package that had 3 ink cartridges from Dell which cost me $75. YIKES!

I don't know whether to be more mad at the dog, the UPS man or at Dell. I was very clear with Dell that I wanted my package sent to my PO box and I was willing to pay extra shipping fees to accomplish this. They refused, saying they ONLY ship via UPS. To me, this is just plain silly. If I want it in my box why is that a problem?? As for the UPS guy - I have a small table right by my front door expressly for that purpose - so packages can be placed there. Anything on the table is safe. But no. The UPS delivery people continue to put boxes on the floor in front of the door. As for Morgan... she's a good dog, as far as dogs go. But this is pretty frustrating.

Food storage gone seriously wrong...

2006-07-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

I spent the afternoon helping a dear elderly sister clean out her freezer. It had gotten so iced over inside that the door would not unlock. The door had to be removed entirely and serious work undertaken to put all items into ice chests (about a dozen of them!) for safe keeping so the freezer could be thawed and cleaned. That all happened before I got there. Once everything got taken out, my friend became quite overwhelmed by the project and called me, her trusty VT, for reinforcements.

Little did I know that a simple act of service for a lady I dearly love would become such an ethical dilemma.

The freezer had been tightly packed with boxes and bags and containers of every kind you might imagine. A LARGE portion of those items were dated prior to 2004. A SIGNFICANT portion were dated around 1986 and then on up through the 90's.

And my friend insisted it was all perfectly good.

These jars and bags and boxes were totally encased in thick layers of ice. She was picking them up and whacking each one with a hammer to knock the ice of, taking a peek to try to figure out what it might be, then carefully re-labeling to put each thing back in her freezer. She had finally realized that process would take her all day long and stuff would start to melt, so that's why she called me. She wanted help in the process.

I tried to reason with this dear lady that any food more than two years old really should be thrown away. She was insistent that she wanted it all. I tried to be kind about it, but was very firm that we must at least throw away anything dated from the past century. Anything that bore a date of 1999 or before I would put in a box and cart off to my dumpster for her. She did NOT like that. But grudgingly went along with it, and then questioned each and every thing I started to throw away - saying "oh this one looks pretty good!"

I started giving her tasks to remove her from the work area ("could you please get me another towel to wipe these?" or "I think this marking pen is going dry - would you mind going to get another?" and then I would quickly toss out as much as I could before her return. My husband was there also, a party to my "crime." As soon as I could get a full box ready to go I'd have him load it into our car out of her view. We filled then entire back of our SUV with very old, very freezer burned, very dead nasty looking food for disposal. But we did it in a pretty sneaky way.

So I'm wondering about this... was it my place to do that? Darn right! or was it?

Which leads to the larger issues of how we deal with people we love who lose their judgment as they grow older. At what point do we "younguns" have the right to impose our values and wishes over what they may prefer? How do we say "You really should not drive any more" or "it's not safe for you to live alone" to someone who very much wants to maintain independence, but in our eyes seems to be a danger to themselves or others?

This dear lady is increasingly showing signs of not being able to care for herself or her property. Her family are all totally flumoxed about what to do about it, because any time they make suggestions for other arrangments "grandma" will have no part of it. At what point do they insist?

I am a firm advocate of honoring our elders. And I'll be the first to admit there are plenty of people in their 2o's, 30's, 40's or 50's who have shown poor judgment in a variety of ways that I would never consider putting into an assisted living facility. But when someone is 80 and had previously been sharp yet now is frequently confused or forgetful it seems to be an entirely different playing field.

I have no fear of death, but I am terrified of being left alone as a fragile, dependent person in my senior years. I wonder and worry at times about whether I will live with chronic illness or if I will lose my lucid mind. One thing I do know for sure. If I ever get to the point that I'm keeping 20 yr old food in my freezer and refusing to get rid of anything so much so that my house becomes a wild, haphazard warren of newspapers, special TV offers and old ice cream containers, I'd very much appreciate it if SOMEONE would step up and intervene rather than worrying they might hurt my feelings.

Good Grief!

2006-07-23T12:50:00.000-07:00

I usually look forward to Sabbath days as a time of reflection and renewal. Today, however, I came home form church frazzled and exhausted.

I teach a class of 5, 6 & 7 year old children in Primary. Although they can certainly get silly at times, for the most part they are great kids. I enjoy teaching them the stories about Jesus and helping them to understand how very much their Father in Heaven loves them.

Today there were three new kids in my class. Two of them are from families who just moved in to the area and one was the grandson of an investigator. I was trying to make a point of really helping these children to feel welcome and go out of my way to be sure they had a positive experience coming to church. The two move ins were great and went away happy. The third child was a bit more of a challenge.

Obviously this kid was not used to being in church, so I tried to be patient with his wiggles, his chair tipping, his talking out of turn, his general distracting behavior. I kept reinforcing what was expected and trying to gently remind him how we were supposed to act in Primary. He did reasonably well during class time. But by the time we gathered with the other age groups for the singing & sharing time, the kid had all the sitting still he could stand. He started squirming all over the place , kicking the chair, playing with a toy he wasn't supposed to have, and generally being disruptive. I took him out into the hall, got down close to his eye level and spoke very firmly to him about the rules for church. I told him he could choose if he wanted his toy to stay in his pocket or in my pocket, that it was entirely up to him - but it WOULD be in somebody's pocket until the end of class. I showed him again how we fold our arms and explained why we do not kick chairs. He got very serious and solemn, promising to behave.

When we went back in he let out a big sigh and just went all limp, sliding down his chair till he was laying on it with his feet stuck out in the aisle, and somehow he managed to get his head stuck in the hole in the back of the chair. Yep. SERIOUSLY stuck. It took three teachers several minutes to get him unwedged and left a bit of a mark across his forehead.

We have these molded plastic stacking chairs for the little kids that have never appeared to me to be any particular hazard. The opening in the back really isn't very big at all - just makes it easy to lift and stack them. Just how he managed to get his head through that small hole I honestly don't know. He had to have is head tipped in just a certain way to squeeze through it, which is what made it so hard to get him back out.

All in all, I don't think I was his favorite person today and he probably thought the whole scene was a big drag that turned into a nightmare. I guess the event appeared pretty funny to some of the others in the room, but I can only imagine how awful and embarrassing it must have felt for him. Ah, the adventures of Primary.... no matter how hard we try as leaders to provide a strong spiritual base for these kids there's always SOMETHING to add a bit of drama.

St. Katherine's

2006-07-17T20:56:00.000-07:00

We are starting to pin down the specifics of our itinerary for our trip to Egypt. Of course we are going to do all the usual things... take a camel ride near the pyramids, see the great Sphynx and go down the Nile river visiting various temples from the time of the Pharos.

But there is one other stop that I am really looking forward to . I plan to spend some time at St. Katherine's monastery.

This is what the Lonely Planet guide to Egypt says about it:

"Tucked into a barren valley at the foot of Mt. Sinai, the ancient St Katherine's Monastery has been a place of pilgrimage since the 4th century. It traces its founding to about 330 AD, when the Roman empress Helena had a small chapel and a fortified refuge for local hermits built beside what was believed to be the burning bush from which God spoke to Moses. In the 6th century Emperor Justinian ordered a fortress to be constructed around the original chapel, together with a basilica and a monastery, to provide a secure home for the monastic community that had grown here and as a refuge for the Christians of southern Sinai. Since then the monastery has been visited by pilgrims from throughout the world, many of whom braved extraordinarily difficult and dangerous journeys to reach the remote and isolated site. Today St. Katherine's is considered one of the oldest continually functioning monastic communities in the world, and its chapel is one of early Christianity's only surviving churches.

The monastery, which together with the surround area, has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, is named after St. Katherine, the legendary martyr of Alexandria, who was tortured on a spiked wheel and then beheaded for her faith. Tradition holds that her body was transported by angels away from the torture device (which spun out of control and killed the pagan onlookers) and onto the slopes of Egypt's highest mountain peak. The peak, which lies about 6km south of Mt Sinai, subsequently became known as Gebel Katarina. Katherine's body was subsequently "found" about 300 years later by monks from the monastery in a state of perfect preservation.

Today a Tarmac access road has removed the hazards that used to accompany a trip to the monastery. Although much of the monastery is closed to the public it is possible to enter the ornately decorated 6th century church of the Transfiguration, with its nave flanked by massive marble columns and walls covered in richly gilded icons and paintings. At the church's eastern end, a gilded 17th century iconastasis separates the nave from the sanctuary and the apse, where St Katherine's remained are interred (off limits to most visitors). High in the apse above the alter is one of the monastery's most stunning artistic treasures, a 6th century mosaic of the biblical account of the transfiguration of Christ. To the left of and below the altar is the monastery's holiest area, the chapel of the Burning Bush....

Near the burning bush is the Well of Moses, a natural spring that is supposed to give marital happiness to those who drink from it. Above the well is the superb Monastery Museum, also known as the Sacred Sacristy, which has recently been magnificently restored. It has displays (labeled in Arabic and English) of many of the monastery's artistic treasures, including some of the spectacular Byzantine-era icons from world famous collections, numerous precious chalices and gold and silver crosses, and a priceless collection of ancient manuscripts and illuminated Bibles from the monastery's library.

There are trails up Mt. Sinai for either hiking or camel route. They say the camel route is the easier way, and takes about two hours to ascend, going at a steady pace. The alternative path to the summit, the taxing 3750 Steps of Repentance, was laid by one monk as a form of penance. The steps, 3000 up to Elijah's basin, and then the final 750 to the summit, are made of roughly hewn rock and are steep and uneven in many places, requiring strong knees and concentration in placing your feet.

I'm thinking I'll do the camel route...

Such a privilege to visit this holy ground.

Although I am active LDS and deeply committed to my faith, my Orthodox friends have taught me much about the ancient faith. That has a lot to do with why I am interested in seeing this sacred site. But apart from any of that, just to be in a place with so much history - even if I didn't believe in all that I do about the reality of God, this would be an amazing experience.

Learning about Orthodoxy has been quite the spiritual adventure for me. I had the opportunity to visit St. Anthony's Monastery in Arizona (where I had the privilege of being in the presence of Elder Ephraim) and I've also been to St. John the Forerunner Monastery in Goldendale, WA.

I've learned about the fasts and feasts, the icons, the saints, the liturgies and the prayers. I've read several books about the history and teachings of the early monastics.

While my core spiritual beliefs have some very key differences from Orthodoxy, my spiritual life has been deeply enriched by pondering repentance as I've studied the life of St. Mary of Egypt and following my own version of observing Lent. I praised and celebrated with my pals as we each cried out "Christ is Risen" on Pascha morning. I was deeply honored to be invited to attend the baptism of young Milos, even though my church's position is quite opposed to infant baptism. It wasn't about who was right or who was wrong in what we each hold sacred - it was about every one of us honoring the Lord our God as we understand him to be and standing in holy places together to share that.

I do not expect that I will ever convert to Orthodoxy and I have absolutely no illusions than any of my Orthodox friends will consider investigation the doctrines of my faith. But we are able to set our differences aside to embrace each other as brothers and sisters in Christ and all of us have been enriched by it.

That is a mighty blessing indeed!

8 Cow Woman

2006-07-15T21:28:00.000-07:00

I had some work to do around the house today - playing my "domestic godess" routine. So of course I dressed suitably for the occassion.... loose comfortable pants and my 8 cow woman T shirt. I always get strange looks from people when they see me wearing this shirt.

It is symbolic of the story of the Legend of Johnny Lingo. BYU produced a very cheesy movie depicting this story in back 1969. It's a classic in LDS culture, even though the original story the movie is based on had nothing to do with the church. There is a newer version of the movie out now, an expanded full feature film that adds way more production and backstory . Personally, I like the old 20 minute classic myself.

It is such a solid reminder of the power of social influence and labeling.

I have a lot in common with Mahana (called Sarita in original story). I grew up convinced I had no value. I lived in shadows, shame and fear. But I have this amazing man who came into my life, who treated me like I was worth more than any other woman he had ever known. His love and honoring of me, even when I have not been at my best, have made me want to be a better person. I am so blessed to have him as my life partner.

Hard to believe we will have been married for 25 years this November.

When I am with Larry, I truly feel like an 8 cow woman.

MAD LIBS

2006-07-12T17:55:00.000-07:00

Do you remember playing mad libs when you were a kid....those crazy stories where you put in your choice of nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc to create your own individualized tale? I used some of these when I was teaching GED.

You can build your own fun story by going HERE.

Thanks to Naddin J over on "What On Earth Is That Smell" blog for posting this!

Humanitarian Aid

2006-07-12T06:16:00.000-07:00

Last night I gathered with a group of women from my church to tie quilts and put together school supply kits to be sent all over the world where ever they may be needed for humanitarian aid. It felt good to share companionship as we busied our hands to help others.

In her book Take Two Chocolates and Call Me In the Morning, Emily Lytle writes about the importance of spending time together and fostering connection in the chapter called "Recapture Some Pea Shelling Time." Like her, I too am very grateful for the modern conveniences that make it possible for me to whip up a meal or get through my duties without having to hand shell my peas or beat rugs or manufacture my own soap. But, also like her, I think in the rush to acquire modern conveniences like washers and dryers and vacuum cleaners and food processors and the like that freed us of much of the drudgery of pioneer life, we've also lost a degree of the connection people used to have when they relied on each other to get things done. My grandmother's generation met together often to raise barns or birth babies or pickle something or sew quilts. We rush around from one appointment to the next text messaging or leaving voice mails or dashing off a few lines of quick e-mail, but too often have precious little time to truly sit in one another's company and share sorrows, share joys, share wisdom, share matters of spirit.

I enjoyed having this opportunity to get together in an informal setting where we could just chat, yet not feel like we are being frivolous or wasting the time because our hands are producing things that will fill an important need. I'm glad I belong to a group that does actively support doing good for others and that I've been taught to view giving service like breathing or eating lunch.... it's not a one time do-good project, but rather an ongoing part of my life.

There were young women with new babies, there were older sisters who had been at literally hundreds of these gatherings over the years, and many like me who were someplace inbetween the two. Some were single. Some were married. Some had careers. Some stayed home to contribute to family. Some were highly educated. Some never completed high school. Some were talented in many ways that show in the world : being gifted in music or writing or the arts. Others had skills in less acknowledged areas - the ability to listen well, a compassionate heart, a great smile. There were many differences between the women who came together for the evening, and yet the sense of unity as a group was palatable. We were all there united for a common purpose. Bookending the meeting at the beginning and end with prayer was the only outward sign that religion had anything to do with bringing us together....the rest of the time was simply laughter and conversation and work. But in my mind, that's some of the best religious practice.... learning to serve and to love is good worship in my book.

Wedding Bells

2006-07-10T21:04:00.000-07:00

My youngest son has recently announced that he is getting married. I am excited, apprehensive, and amazed by the turns his life is taking.

Aaron has been a single dad raising three kids on his own for quite a few years now. (The youngest, who is now six, was not quite two when their mom left the family.) Aaron did he best he could on his own, facing life struggles with varying degrees of success. As any single parent can tell you, balancing work and family and other obligations with no one there to back you up is a very tough job indeed.

This past January he re-met Stephanie, a woman he had liked when they were teenagers (they once got in trouble when they were fifteen for getting caught kissing behind the church when they were supposed to be in Sunday School!) But they grew up different ways, lost touch with each other, married other people, had families, went through messy divorces, and have both been struggling on their own for some time. Now they have come together again and are ready to blend their families. She has four children ages two to twelve - essentially one counterpart kid for each of Aaron's brood with an extra little girl thrown in as a bonus.

Raising seven children on a struggling college student's part time work salary is not going to be easy. But Aaron never has worried about if something was easy or not. And eventually his schooling should pay off in a career that will take care of the whole tribe, if they can just get through a few lean years.

So come August I will be off to Michigan to meet this new brood of children and re-meet the girl who told me 15 years ago she wanted to marry my son.

And as of the day of their wedding, I will become grandma figure to the whole bunch.

To celebrate this union Larry and I will take the entire clan to Michigan Adventure Amusement park and then we will stay at their house to babysit the wild brood for a week while Aaron & Stephanie take off for a honeymoon. I look forward to having time with them, but a whole week of 24/7 responsibility for this tribe of kids - half of whom we've never even met, has me more than a little intimidated! We are arranging out time off from our jobs so we'll have a few days of R & R to recuperate here when we return before heading back to work. I suspect we'll need it!

Moving Day

2006-07-10T13:58:00.000-07:00

It seems half the college where I work is moving offices - I'm losing some space but gaining better temperature control which I suppose is an equitable trade off. I've got all my files boxed up and am trying to figure out what will go where.

I've talked to a couple folks who have worked here long term and they warn me the college does this just about every summer - some say that's the only way they can get faculty to clean out their offices. I don't mind the move just so long as nobody expects me to be able to actually get anything DONE for othe next day or so. It's a friendly chaos here as we share hand trucks and tape, encouraging one another through the transition.

Caledonia Games

2006-07-08T19:18:00.000-07:00

This weekend is the annual Caledonia Games festival in Athena. Larry and I went down to the park for a while to listen to the bagpipe players, watch some of the dance competitions, amble around through the clan tent displays and watch the sheep dog trials. And of course we saw many a kilt of one style or another worn over many a knobby knee. It was a fun diversion for a couple hours.

I was pondering the whole "Clan" phenomena as we saw people proudly displaying their specific tartans and insignias. What is it about this that can give a pipe fitter in Ohio or a wheat farmer in Oregon so much of a sense of connection and belonging?

All in all it was a fun celebration - the big event for the year for our sleepy little town.

Freedom of Speech

2006-06-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

As I have continued to read and research for my trip, I was struck by an article about two journalists who have been sentenced to a year in prison in Egypt for disparaging President Hosni Mubarak in a newspaper article published last year. Oh my.

There are so many freedoms we have in this country that I totally take for granted. Freedom of speech is a big one. It seems just crazy to me that there are places that lock you up for expressing a dissenting opinion.

Living in a land where I can worship as I wish is another.

The more I study about the details of other parts of the world, the deeper my gratitude is for living where I live. Yeah, I whine plenty about things about our culture or our political environment that I don't agree with. But the very fact that I CAN whine and complain in absolute safety is a blessing I seldom give thanks for. It's high time I did.

Taking Risks

2006-06-29T15:16:00.000-07:00

I've had a few different people question my choice to visit Egypt, saying they would not feel safe traveling in that part of the world. So I've been giving some thought to the whole issue of what makes a reasonable risk and what is just plain foolish.

I know a few adrenaline junkies who enjoy doing things like parasailing, flying ultralight airplanes, climbing very high mountains or exploring deep caves. I think any of those are fine, if that's your interest and you take reasonable precautions. But not my style. I like staying firmly planted on good ole' terra firma, thank you very much.

Larry is an avid scuba diver. I was willing to at least give that a try. I signed up for lessons twice. I flunked both times. I just felt too panicky, claustrophobic and vulnerable in the gear. I'm perfectly happy sticking to snorkeling. There's just too much that can go wrong at 60 - 100 feet deep and the stakes are too high for my comfort level.

But travel is something I will never give up. I love seeing other parts of the world, and getting acquainted with other cultures.

However, that does not mean I go out blindly not taking heed of the risks involved. There ARE certain precautions that just plain make sense when getting away from familiar turf where the rules and social norms will be very different.

When I go to Egypt, I will have put in lots of prep time to learn all I can to make the most of my travels there and to familiarize myself with the culture and laws.

Are there risks for a fair skin, light haired American woman to be abroad in an Islamic country? You bet. But there are risks crossing the street.

This is a risk I am more than willing to take.

Egypt bound

2006-06-26T19:26:00.000-07:00

Larry and I are making plans for a trip to Egypt this fall/winter. This evening we have been pouring over the travel agency brochures and trying to sort out which itinerary we will choose. We plan to take a camel ride in the shadow of the pyramids, see the mighty Sphinx, visit the Valley of the Kings and go for a cruise along the Nile. Then we will hop over to the coast so that Larry can go scuba diving in the Red Sea, where some of the best world class dive sites are to be found. We expect to leave sometime late November so we will be over there for both our 25th anniversary and for Larry’s birthday. I’ve been truly blessed to get to visit some exciting places with this man of mine, but without question this trip has the potential to top the list. So between now and then I hope to do some reading about the history, the culture, the archeology and such so that I will be able to fully appreciate it when I’m there. Should be quite an adventure.

Fruit Salad for 185

2006-06-08T19:38:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure where I got this recipe from, but tonight as I was deleting a bunch of old files out of my various e-mail folders I ran across it again...

For those of you who may be up for some serious feedage, enjoy:

FRUITED TURKEY SALAD
25 quarts cubed cooked turkey or chicken
20 (20 oz) cans pineapple chunks, drained
20 (15 oz) cans mandarin oranges, drained
20 (2-1/4 oz) cans sliced ripe olives, drained
5 bunches celery, thinly sliced
10 large green peppers, chopped
5 to 6 quarts mayonnaise or salad dressing
3 large onions, grated
1-1/2 cups prepared mustard
5 tablespoons salt
1 to 2 tablespoons lemon-pepper seasoning; optional
8 (5 oz) cans chow mein noodles
In several large bowls (or one VERY LARGE bowl), combine the first six ingredients. In another large bowl combine the mayonnaise, onions, mustard, salt and lemon-pepper if desired. Cover and refrigerate chicken mixture for at least 2 hours before tossing. Sprinkle with chow mein noodles. Serve immediately.
Yield: 185 (1-cup) servings

Monkey Golf

2006-06-01T18:58:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite stories is "Play the Ball Where the MonkeyDrops It." This was first relayed to me by my eldest brother several years ago. I recently found it again HERE

It goes like this:

"The story is told of a golf course in India. Apparently, once the English had colonized the country and established their businesses, they yearned for recreation and decided to build a golf course in Calcutta. Golf in Calcutta presented a unique obstacle. Monkeys would drop out of the trees, scurry across the course, and seize the golf balls. The monkeys would play with the balls, tossing them here and there.

At first, the golfers tried to control the monkeys. Their first strategy was to build high fences around the fairways and greens. This approach, which seemed initially to hold much promise, was abandoned when the golfers discovered that a fence is no challenge to an ambitious monkey. Next, the golfers tried luring the monkeys away from the course. But the monkeys found nothing as amusing as watching humans go wild whenever their little white balls were disturbed. In desperation, the British began trapping the monkeys. But for every monkey they carted off, another would appear. Finally, the golfers gave in to reality and developed a rather novel ground rule: Play the ball where the monkey drops it.

As you can imagine, playing this unique way could be maddening. A beautiful drive down the center of the fairway might be picked up by a monkey and then dropped in the rough. Or the opposite could happen. A hook or slice that had produced a miserable lie might be flung onto the fairway. It did not take long before the golfers realized that golf on this particular course was very similar to our experience of life. There are good breaks, and there are bad breaks. We cannot entirely control the outcome of the game. "

I've been thinking about this a lot lately in regards to my job search, events going on in my family, and a few other things over which I have utterly no control. I'm trying to remind myself to trust the universe to open the doors that will ultimately bless my life and keep tightly shut those doors that would open before me the wrong path. I'm practicing allowing myself to feel at peace with whatever happens rather that take on my traditional M.O. of stewing and storming and giving myself all sorts of grief.

That doesn't mean I don't care about the outcome. I do! And it also does not mean I don't have to try my best or prepare or plan. Those golfers in India still sought out just the right kinds of clubs, took lessons to perfect their swing and did all they could to master their game. But in the final analysis, the learned to accept that no matter WHAT they could do to be the best golfers they knew how to be, in the end we all have to play the ball wherever the monkey happens to drop it. And that's ok.

Psychobabble

2006-05-31T21:03:00.000-07:00

An awful lot of people I know are either currently in some form of therapy, counseling or recovery group or else they have been in the past.

I don't know if it's a matter of what sort of people I tend to flock with or if it has merely become pervasive in our culture to hire specialists to deal with our emotional angst. That's got me to thinking, What constitutes being emotionally healthy? What does it mean to be "mentally ill"? How much emotional pain should a person try to cope with on his or her own and when is it appropriate to seek help? When is a behavior or manner of perceiving just a bit quirky or uncomfortable and when does it cross the line into being a symptom of something to get treatment for?

In my Principles of Sociology textbook (Sociology, a Down-to-Earth Approach by James M. Henslin, 7th edition) the author describes a South American tribe in which the skin condition you see on the child pictured here is so common that the few individuals who AREN'T spotted are defined as having something wrong with them. What might the impact on our society be if seeing a shrink is viewed as the "normal" thing to do and dealing with one's problems on your own is considered "unhealthy"? Would we be better off if MORE people sought support for coping with life issues or would that take us down a dangerous path?

Anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications are currently the most prescribed of all pharmaceutical agents in this country. Are they helping? Are they harming?

I keep thinking of a line from that great song by Matchbox 20 - UNWELL:

When I was working in community mental health back in Michigan, I used to say only half jokingly that we needed a score card to keep track of who were the professionals with the keys and who were the clients there to receive treatment.

There were an awful lot of very strange people among the helping professionals that I met. Why do you suppose that is? Does working with mentally ill people cause the professionals who serve them to develop new quirks or does that sort of profession simply attract people with deep issues of their own? Some of both perhaps?

I really do believe it is a false division to think we can separate out who the "well" people are from those who are "emotionally unstable". Granted, someone with full blown psychosis is in a different category, but in general I think MOST people have problems and pains that trouble them, some very deeply. How we define what it is appropriate to do about that and what meaning we give to our distress is what I am really curious about.

A Question of Tolerance

2006-05-30T09:50:00.000-07:00

A while back I had a discussion with one of my Sociology classes about the degree to which tolerance does or does not dilute one’s own beliefs. The questions went something like this: If you have strong commitment to your own beliefs, does that mean you will automatically assume that any contradictory beliefs held by others are not just different; they are inaccurate, flawed, incomplete or otherwise WRONG? Is it possible to hold fast to ones own beliefs, values, faith, opinions or whatever without assuming superiority over others who are different? How can we be firm in our own values without becoming judgmental, condescending, or arrogant toward others? Where do we draw the line between “relative” truth – meaning what can be true for me may be different from what is “true” for you, or what is “true” for me right now may be different from what will be “true” for me at some other time or in some other circumstance…And ABSOLUTE truth – meaning principles that are intrinsic and real no matter what people believe or don’t believe about them?

I was trying to get the students to make clear distinctions between ethnocentrism and cultural relativity. I got lots of good comments and some very engaging discussion. It also prompted me to do some serious re-evaluating of my own beliefs and the way I view the beliefs of others. Regardless of how respectful I may be toward someone else in my outward behavior, if in my private attitudes I consider my beliefs / ideas / practices to be RIGHT and those of the other person to be WRONG, how will that flavor our interaction?

I’m doing some exploration to see which areas I am totally open to others, which ones I am open with reservations, and where I have my doors completely closed.

EXAMPLE: food choices – recently went for Pizza with Juliana. I tried a slice of pizza that had artichokes on it. I had never had artichoke pizza before and did not know if I would like it or not. But I was happy to give it a try, and as it turned out it was really YUMMY! Had she suggested I try pizza with crickets or grubs on it I would have been more reluctant. I know in some parts of the world theses things are generally considered to be food-worthy items and undoubtedly they provide valuable protein. But my cultural conditioning just makes me think YUCK! I do not think it is “bad” or “wrong” to eat bugs. I just think it is something I am not ready to try.

However, I also once read an article about “Placenta Stew”. Yep. People making stew from the afterbirth following the arrival of a child. It was supposed to be some bonding ritual for the whole family to partake of this. Now, this is beyond disgusting to me. I don't just have a personal aversion to the idea. I think it is totally horrible to consider ANYONE doing this. If someone I knew were engaging in this practice I would definitely judge them as rather nuts.

Still, that is not the most extreme. In the most extreme case would be something I viewed as so wrong that I felt compelled to speak out against it and would most likely choose not to associate with any person who did this. It's hard to come up with an example of that for food - but you get the idea.

That’s pretty straightforward when all I’m talking about is food. But what about when we get into other areas, like parenting practices, sexual behavior or religious beliefs?

At what point am I willing to say: "HMMM….I’m willing to consider that." At what point am I going to say, "Not for me, thanks, but you go right ahead." At what point do I say "That Is Just Plain WRONG! " What do I base my different responses on?

I’m recognizing that a lot of the areas I make these distinctions in are not values I ever carefully thought out and DECIDED to adopt – rather they are attitudes or beliefs I incorporated from my collective life experiences and social influence. Some fit. Some really don't. So now I am examining some of those beliefs and trying to decide which ones serve me well and which ones could stand a little adjustment, if not to be discarded completely.

Who knows, maybe I’ll give anchovies a new try. Or not. But what it means for the things I oppose I still have to figure out.

Kite Day

2006-05-29T21:50:00.000-07:00

Today I went kite flying with my friends, Tansy and Becket. We had a blast. We went out to the field by Walla Walla Community College where we had plenty of room with no threatening trees or wires. Granted, we had a few string & tail tangle adventures. But we got several different kites up, some clear to the very end of their strings. Afterwards we went for ice cream and conversation and just generally enjoyed the mellow afternoon. It was a fun day.

Pondering

2006-05-29T06:23:00.000-07:00

The other night I watched the movie "What the Bleep Do We Know?", a quirky little hybrid piece, part drama, part documentary, part special effects wonder. It has me thinking some on just what it is I believe is "true" and what is "real" and what I base that on. Quantum Physics certainly opens up more possibilities for questions that giving any concrete answers.

What is the role of human existence in the universe? Does anything we do, think or feel really matter in the grand scheme of things or are we just a temporary blip of inconsequential protoplasm on the evolutionary map?

How much is life random and beyond our control? How much is it shaped by my choices and intentions?

What is the relationship of past/present/future to what I experience? I can REMEMBER the past, I can ANTICIPATE the future. In many ways, I allow those realities I am creating in my mind/awareness to become more vivid and real than what is going on around me in the present. In what ways does that habit serve me and in what ways does it limit me?

In what way can my INTENTION influence the outcome of events?

How does what I notice and focus on shift what I will manifest / experience?

One of the people interviewed in the movie is "Ramtha" a 35,000 year-old spirit-warrior from Atlantis who is supposedly "channeled" through the person of J.Z. Knight. My cynical mind rejects that immediately. What other things do I reject out of hand, just like people who KNEW the world was flat rejected the outlandish idea that is was a sphere or that the earth revolved around the sun. Perposterous! How do my assumptions about what is true or what is possible shape what I allow myself to learn?

How does my understanding of what is "credible" cause me to turn away from or fail to notice things that might be of value?

What ships on the horizon do I fail to see because they are so beyond my understanding and experience?

Cheesesaurus Rex

2006-05-25T18:00:00.000-07:00

I just had to share Jim Victor's website of amazing food sculptures. Yep. Sculptures from edibles - things like cheese, chocolate, butter, pizza dough, you name it.

The example here is VERY "cheesy" in more ways than one, but to see some really fine artistry check out THIS website.

Apparently when he was told to stop playing with his food, this guy didn't listen. He's even done a LIFE SIZE sculpture of Mr. Milton Hershey (in chocolate, of course). There are motorcycles, buildings, all sorts of stuff. Now, I don't know about you, but when I look at a block of butter I just don't think things like "Zowie, I could carve a cow outta that!"

All in a Day's Work...

2006-05-06T09:22:00.000-07:00

As a counter point to my passion for teaching, I’ve also been giving some thought to some of the dumb jobs I have had.

For example, I once was paid to stand outside a health spa with a sign that said “Free Month Pass” on a busy road in Phoenix, AZ and wave at all the cars that went by.

I was one of those annoying phone solicitors for a photography studio.

I washed beakers, separatory funnels and other scientific type glassware in a laboratory and kept inventory of all their chemical reagents.

I de-veined shrimp for a restaurant. (Ok, I was actually the dishwasher, but the grossest part of that job were the hours upon hours I spent with my hands in the shrimp bucket).

I sold jewelry to spoiled brats with visa cards in West Palm Beach.

I worked in a factory that made CB antennas….that was perhaps the worst. (Yes, even worse than the shrimp bucket!) Can you imagine sitting at your work station repetitively counting out four nuts, four bolts and four screws to put into their little compartments of packaging for eight hours a day? I almost cried with gratitude when I was finally fired from that job for constantly perusing the Help Wanted ads during my shift.

Of course – all those less than inspiring positions were the things I did before I got the magic ticket of a college degree. POST education jobs included things like Crisis Intervention Specialist in a mental health facility, Prevention Coordinator for an agency doing HIV/AIDS intervention, Research Assistant at a university survey facility, Consultant in a women’s prison running groups with the incarcerated moms and their kids, Caregiver Training Coordinator for an Area Agency on Aging, Marketing Director at a retirement community, and Chief Cook & Bottle Washer for a Walla Walla based charity (yeah, the “official title” of executive director sounded impressive. But, in reality, in addition to managing the food bank and doing homeless case management, I did everything from writing the grants to cleaning the toilets.)

There were things I liked about almost every job (EXCEPT the CB antennae factory.) There were things that I despised about almost every job. Even my first love of teaching has its ups and downs.

What I am most curious about these days is WHY we work in the areas we work in, and what meaning we give to our jobs. Some people I known do not take their jobs seriously at all, while others sacrifice everything to be “successful” in their chosen fields. I’ve met a few people who truly love their jobs. But those tend to be the exception more than the rule. Why is that?

How much of my “regular life” does it make sense to sacrifice to do well at my job? To what degree do I define myself by whatever it is I may do for a living? Would I prefer a job that paid well but was boring or one that paid less, yet challenged me and seemed the right fit? How much of my best efforts will I bring to the workplace and how much do I do just whatever is necessary to get by? What do I expect in return?

Yeah, these are some of the places my brain rambles at 2:00 AM when I’m up with insomnia….

Chasing My Passion

2006-05-03T23:24:00.000-07:00

Tonight I held my final session with my GED class. The five weeks went by so fast!

I learned many things from this experience. Perhaps most important of all, I reawakened to how much teaching is my passion.

I've held a lot of different kinds of jobs over the years and have developed varied skill sets that have proven useful. I know I am capable of doing many different sorts of things. But when I am in the groove with a classroom of students, it really does feel like all the planets have lined up and I am doing what I was born to do.

I had an amazing group of students. Oh sure, some were more serious about it than others. There was one who was quiet and surly. There was one who was cocky and rude. There were a few who never came back after the first session when they realized I was going to expect them to work rather than just show up to take up space. But all that aside, I had a core group of students who consistently showed up ready to learn. They were willing to work hard, ask questions, be actively engaged, and for the most part followed through on assignments. Isn't that kind of class every teacher dreams of?

We all worked hard together to get through the material at hand, but I also got to share lots of stories about the power of education in general. I encouraged them not to stop at the GED level, but to commit themselves to being life long learners - whether it be in formal academic settings or merely by engaging their curiosity and newly strengthened literacy. I watched some of them truly blossom with increased confidence as they began to recognize that all sorts of options would be open to them once they got past this hurdle of no diploma. Being part of their process was very rewarding.

On the last night some of my students brought me the beautiful bouquet of flowers you see pictured here, along with cards expressing appreciation for all I had given them. Another student brought me an apple along with a note describing how the class had impacted her...some very powerful stuff!

Yeah, the gratitude from these students was very reaffirming. Reading the notes they had written I got so choked up I had to leave the room for a bit to go compose myself. But that's not why I do it. It's less about the kudos and more about the "aha!" moments when I can see the light bulb go off over their heads when they finally understand an important point I am trying to get across. It's about all the different ways that I witness them learning to appreciate LEARNING, regardless of what the content is I am teaching. It's about helping give students confidence in themselves and their own power to take charge of their lives...THAT is what knocks my socks of about the role.

When I am teaching is when I am most AWAKE and present to my own nature and where I feel the most connection of anything I've ever done.

I never planned on being a teacher as I was growing up, or even when I went to college. I fell into it almost by mistake. But the universe knew what it was doing when I was led in that direction. This is my calling, my dream, my passion. Now, more than ever, I am certain that I want to find other teaching opportunities...whether it be in formal education settings, private workshops or some other venue. I'm not sure what the next phase will bring. But I'm ready, whatever it is.

2006-05-02T21:40:00.000-07:00

My Hero

2006-05-02T21:21:00.000-07:00

This year Larry and I will have been married for 25 years. What an adventure it has been! I’ve had my share of bumps, bruises and disappointments in life – but without question one of the greatest blessings I have had has been the sweet comfort of a strong, healthy marriage to a man I honor and respect. He makes me laugh. He helps me feel safe. He gives me a reason to want to be better than I am. He is the one person on this planet who I know without reservation will always have my best interest at heart and who will love me no matter what. What a gift!

Sock in the Nose

2006-05-02T18:10:00.000-07:00

I once had a wise teacher who told me about making balsa wood airplanes as a child. While flying them out in a field on a windy day, one of his favorite planes crashed and broke. He was sad to see the crumpled, shattered body lying in a heap. It appeared to be utterly ruined. However, after the initial disappointment, he picked up the pieces and carefully, painstakingly, glued them back together. Then he left it for a while to sit and dry. Finally, when he was confident it was ready, he took it back out to fly again.

Amazingly, that repaired plane became one of his best flyers. Although scarred and perhaps less beautiful that the unbroken planes, that one was so sturdy that even when it took an occasional tumble, it didn't break again. It had become stronger at the broken places because of the glue.

Our lives are often like that. We have heartaches and disappointments. We have circumstances that make us feel as if we have crashed into the ground. But if we can pick ourselves up and glue those crumpled pieces of our heart back together, we too can become stronger at the broken places, with newfound resiliencey to face the storms the world may bring.

During a particularly difficult time in my life, I received the card you see pictured here. As it says: "Sometimes when you least expect it, life gives you a big ol' sock in the nose." Then, on the inside it reads:

"Not to worry.
With time the pain will pass,
and from it
you will have gained experience,
which gives you information,
which gives you objectivity,
which gives you wisdom,
which gives you truth,
which gives you freedom
from having to get a sock
in the nose again."

Every now and then, when I am facing struggles in navigating the current of my world, it helps to pull out the card and to remember the story of that broken airplane.

Glasswing Butterfly

2006-04-30T17:26:00.000-07:00

Tell Me Your Dreams....

2006-04-30T07:35:00.000-07:00

One of the other blogs that I visit on occasion is written by Barry Moses of Spokane, WA. He has a couple different blogs, one of which is a dream journal.

My first reaction to this, of course, was that all my quirky privacy issues went a bit wacko. I am reluctant to tell people I know and trust about the things I dream. I certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable putting them out on the net for anyone who happened to chance upon my pages to see. I would feel way too vulnerable, way too exposed.

I have no illusions that masses of strangers, or even that many people I know, ever look at this blog. Still, the fact that they COULD read these words definitely influences what things I will post here and what things I will not. My issues regarding what is “private” and what is “public” remain pretty guarded.

So, I got to examining that a bit closer, looking at the degree to which I live in my head and the extent to which I experience and share my heart with people in my day-to-day life. There were a few lessons there.

In 2004 I attended an experiential training for personal development called Spectrum that was held in Boise, ID. (LT61) In that training, participants were encouraged to “drop the waterline” – meaning to become more authentic with others, sharing our core selves to a greater degree rather than staying in the surface superficial that our culture so often expects. There were several exercises we did in dyads and in small groups to practice giving and receiving honest feedback and taking risks with self disclosure. It was both excruciating and hugely affirming all at the same time.

Spectrum training had three different levels that were each held a month or two apart. Because of the nature of the training, some very strong bonds of friendship and loyalty were forged among the paratipants. I only made it through level two because of the distance between where I live and Boise. The third level, which I skipped, included a ropes course and some other key exercises which brought participants even closer to each other. Several of the people involved have continued to have post-spectrum gatherings and some communicate on a regular basis. Initially I was a part of that, but became less and less so as time went by.

I’ve sometimes wondered if I had done all 3 levels if I would have stayed in contact more with the people from that class. I have attributed my lack of ties to them both to the fact that I live so far away and that I bailed out after level two. But perhaps the truth is more about the degree to which I am willing or not willing to lower my waterline, allowing myself to engage in open, authentic sharing with other folks.

I think we’ve all had the experience of being around someone who dumps WAY TOO MUCH personal information, making us very uncomfortable. Most people have also had the experience of carefully trusting someone with private info only to find out later that it was not kept in confidence. I pull back from saying too much about my emotional landscape to others for both of those reasons. But that’s just scratching the surface…. Today what I am looking at more closely is NOT why I do or do not feel willing to share private things more readily. What I am turning over for closer examination right now is how I decide what is private and what is public in the first place.

I’m more than willing to spill my IDEAS. My convoluted thinking is open, fair game for all. The teacher in me is very accustomed to batting around different theories, concepts and hypothesis. But when it gets into the area of feelings and emotions, I begin to put up some walls. I put on my game face, talk about feeling in a general, philosophical, hypothetical way. But the whole idea of telling others what it is I really feel all too often seems risky and unwise to me. Besides, most times I’m fairly sure people don’t really want to know.

So now I am looking at the assumptions I have made about that and asking myself – is it accurate? Is it valid? Is it healthy? Is it creating the sort of connections with others that I desire?

BALANCE is the trick – and not something I am particularly skilled at. I do not think it is wise or healthy to go around wearing my heart on my sleeve, giving the whole world a bird’s eye view into the dark places of my psyche. I can share the “happy” stuff fairly easily as that seldom leads to any sort of problem. But when it comes to my angst, my fears, my sorrows…that is where my boundaries of privacy begin to get fairly rigid, except for one or two very specific relationships.

But I am beginning to recognize that it’s not an all-or-nothing matter of staying in stepford-wife unreality or spilling my guts to any passing stranger. It’s more about degree, and becoming more mindful about choosing when, where and with whom I might be more candid about my interior world. .

Intimacy = IN TO ME YOU SEE. It is only when we allow others to truly see us as we experience ourselves that meaningful closeness can develop. So perhaps I can work on dropping the waterline a bit more and taking off that game face.

2006-04-30T00:54:00.000-07:00

Chuck's Stub

2006-04-30T00:27:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has been around fishermen much has heard tales of “the one that got away”. Many of those blatantly questionable stories remind me of a hat my husband has. It says across the front: “How can you tell when a fisherman is lying? Watch his lips. If they move, he is lying.” Stories of close calls and monster fish seem to grow exponentially with each telling.

The tale of Chuck’s Stub, however, is one I can absolutely document.

This past August, Larry and I went to Alaska to do some long dreamed of fishing on the Kenai Peninsula with our good friends from Wenatchee, Chuck & Pat Butcherite. We had a fabulous time white water rafting up by Denali and enjoyed our time exploring around Anchorage. However, the real focus of the trip was to be the fishing.

Now, keep in mind that I am not much of an angler. I’ve been on many a fishing trip with Larry where I spent most of the time with my nose in a book, just happy to be with my man in the great out of doors. But this time we were all scheduled to pull in some big ones. So we went out on our charter boat and started pulling in halibut. We caught several decent sized fish, no real monsters, but some respectable specimens that would give us many a fine dinner.

Then our captain moved the boat to take us to where the salmon were supposed to be. Because we were late in the season, the only salmon available were silvers, and none of those we caught were all that big. But we all had a good time pulling in fish, taking our turns doing battle with the rod and reel.

Then, finally, Chuck hooked into what WOULD have been the catch of the day. It was a beautiful king salmon. The fish’s body was glistening as he brought it to the surface. We were all cheering him on, thrilled that at least one of our party had finally hooked a king. Then, just as he reeled it in closer to the boat, a HUGE brown shadow came following, rose to the surface and BIT THE SALMON RIGHT OFF HIS LINE.

It was a salmon shark, somewhere between five or six feet long, and one nasty looking critter if I do say so myself. Our captain stood there at the edge of his vessel; waving his hands in the air saying: “Shoo! Shoo! Get away!” as if that would do any good. But it was too late. The shark took the fish, leaving us standing there scratching our heads with our mouths gaping. All we had left of it was a mangled fraction we affectionately referred to from that point on as “Chuck’s Stub”.

Larry and I ate remnants of what we were able to salvaged from the stub. It was quite delicious. Too bad the shark got the rest of it. Even though we missed getting any pictures of the shark itself, we did capture an image of the stub for all posterity, and have witnesses to tell the tale. So if any of you happen to be fishing in the waters around the Kenai – beware of sharks.

Change in Direction

2006-04-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

I started this Blog about a month ago. It has been an interesting experiment. Initially I thought I’d give it a go as a means of facilitating extended family communication. However, as no great surprise, once the initial novelty wore off, that function pretty much bit the dust. So I was going to just let the blog die and move on to other interests.

However, a few different friends have told me they like reading the stuff (although I can’t imagine why). I find I enjoy the writing and it is interesting to have it open to anyone who may care to comment or suggest new perspectives. So I’ve decided that rather than kill it off, I will simply shift away from thinking of this as the “Pendley Family Blog” and instead allow it to evolve into whatever direction it takes.

To acknowledge that shift, I want to establish a new name for the header and I will change the URL. I plan to experiment with different fonts and formats, and come up with some sort of title to give this blog a bit of a new feel. No telling how many times it will switch as I explore its metamorphosis.

Afterall, isn't change and adapting to new seasons and shifting circumstances what life is all about?

Prize Fight - Robbins vs. Shapiro

2006-04-28T12:36:00.000-07:00

Some of you know that for many years I’ve been a big Tony Robbins fan. I’ve got his 30 day program for personal success on both CD’s and Cassettes and have been through the series several times. It includes some very specific goal setting workshops that I have incorporated into my world pretty intensively. I have long attributed several of my accomplishments and achievements to following that plan.

Working the Robbins material has trained me to set very focused goals and then to take specific actions aimed at achieving those goals.

Into that landscape enter Stephen Shapiro, author of the book “Goal Free Living”.
Mr. Shapiro calls someone like me a “goal-a-holic” and insists that being so focused on specific outcomes leads to an overly worried, stressed out life. He says that by their very nature, goals lead us to be so focused on the future that we fail to live in the moment and appreciate what we already have. He writes:

“Being goal-free does not mean having no goals. It means being free from the burden and limitation of traditional goals. Having said that, it is also about avoiding SMART goals — those that are specific, measurable, achievable, results-based, and time oriented. These types of goals limit us even further. Goal-Free Living is best described as meandering with purpose — or, as is the first secret, “Use a Compass, Not a Map.”

So I’m wrestling between thinking he is a blasphemy spouting heretic casting aspersions on my sacred cow or giving room to consider there may be something to his arguments.

One of my all time favorite books is “The Precious Present” by Spencer Johnson. That short but oh-so-profound little tale is all about living in the moment and savoring the juice of life as we live it rather than being haunted by our past or made anxious by the future.

However, does living in the moment mean throwing out my check lists and giving up on my goals?? I DON’T THINK SO!

I’ve heard it said: “today is the tomorrow that we worried about yesterday”.

The reason I am able to do many of the things I can do today is because in some of my yesterdays I was willing to delay gratification and work toward very specific goals – like getting an education, like having lasik surgery, like establishing good credit, etc. etc.

HOWEVER – I do see Shapiro’s point that if we are extremely specific about our goals we leave little room for alternate successes.

For me, the truth lies somewhere in the middle between the preachings of Robbins and Shapiro. By no means am I going to throw away my palm pilot or give up on my check lists. I am a strong advocate of crafting a life by design rather than taking the pot luck of default, accepting whatever may come along. For me, that means creating a meaningful plan and then paying attention to whether I am getting closer to that plan or further away so I can adjust my efforts accordingly.

But maybe, just MAYBE it is time that I start rethinking some of my compulsive drive for “getting it right”. Maybe I could make some room for savoring a bit more of what comes along instead of always feeding my desire for the illusion of being in control of my life. Perhaps I could learn to be more willing to trust the universe to unfold all on its own without my guidance, eh?

Or not.

Pick a Card, Any Card....

2006-04-28T09:37:00.000-07:00

I’ve been reading the book “Something More – Excavating Your Authentic Self” by Sarah Ban Breathnach (Author of “Simple Abundance”). The basic premise of her earlier book was that we experience abundance through gratitude – focusing our intent and attention on appreciating what we have rather than longing for what we do not. In this follow up book, she makes the claim that learning how to experience joy is how we move from imitation to authenticity.

She then goes on to distinguish between happiness and joy. She writes:
“Happiness is often triggered by external events, events we usually have no control over-you get the promotion, he loves you back, they approve your mortgage application. Happiness camouflages a lot of fears. But joy is the absence of fear. Joy is your soul’s knowledge that if you don’t get their promotion, keep the relationship, or buy the house, it’s because you weren’t meant to.” (Breathnach, 10 - emphasis mine).

So I’m sitting here wondering if I believe that. And along with it, I’ve been giving a lot of thought of late to how much I believe in “destiny” or things that are “meant to be” and how much I believe in the random nature of life.

Sometimes I think that a lot of the things that FEEL “meant to be” in our lives are just events that happened that we attached meaning to. Maybe they were pleasant. Maybe they were painful. We could learn from them or ignore them or use them to rationalize our own stupidity. Either way, perhaps it was just the cards we got dealt and there is no greater purpose beyond that.

When I am making big decisions in my life, because of my belief system I often pray to try to figure out “God’s Will” so that I will align my choices accordingly. But when it comes to things like where I will live, or what kind of work I will do, does it really matter to any sort of deity? Would I do just as well to flip a coin? I certainly would never ask God if I should wear the green dress or the black skirt and top when I go to worship. Perhaps what portion of geography I land in or what occupation I pursue (while very important to ME) may seem equally trivial to one who creates universes.

Having lived in six different states I have sometimes joked that God was behind a few of the multi-national corporate mergers that caused all of Larry's job transfers in order to put us in the path of a certain person who became very dear to us, or opening up key life lessons that were specific to a particular time and place. But mostly that sounds absurd to me. If I hadn't moved to Ohio I never would have met my pal Alice and if not for Wenatchee I'd have missed out on knowing Pat. Both of these women have enriched my life immeasurably, and have shared freindships with me that felt "meant to be". However, had I lived elsewhere I simply would have formed different relationships. If I'd never lived in Michigan, chances are I might never have completed my Master's Degree and I almost certainly would not have had some of the of the critical experiences I did with certain teachers there. But who knows what other sort of life I might have built if instead we had moved to Arkansas or Nebraska or Maine?

In the grand scheme of the cosmos, would that have mattered?

When discussing this through e-mails back and forth with my pal Johnda, I got back the following reply:

“I think there are very few times when Heavenly Father cares where you physically reside and all of those times seem to revolve around survival issues, i.e. Joseph, take the baby and flee into Egypt or Brigham, take the people out west where nobody else wants the land and you all won't get yourselves murdered. Just look at how Abraham decided where he should go, "OK, Lot. You want the land on the right or the left? Pick whichever you want and I'll go the other way." Abraham was a pretty inspired guy and I don't see anguish over "where the Lord wants me" in his attitude here. For the most part, where you go matters less than how you live.
I also think that it's pretty egocentric to believe that "I am the only person in the universe who could touch that one life the way God wants it touched right now" or to believe that there is only one human that God could use to touch you at the right time and in the right way when you need it. So I agree with your statement that wherever you go, you will continue to touch lives in meaningful ways and be touched by others in ways that continue to shape you into a glorious being.

That being said, I do believe that many jobs end or open in distant geographical locations according to events the Lord set in motion on our behalf to bring us into the situation that will help develop our "glorious being" where the people who will listen and respond to His promptings are present.

It's the fine line between being controlled by God and being guided by Him, offered opportunities from Him. Like the difference between predestination and foreordination. His hand IS in all things: not as controller of our choices but as author of our best opportunities. We seek, He will bring opportunity for us to find. We ask, He will provide the answer for us to utilize or reject. He will partner with us in all our positive endeavors. "It is not meet that I should command in all things..." "You took no thought save it was to ask me...." "Men should be anxiously engaged in good works according to their own free will and choice..." (J.Smith – March 12, 2006)

So some days I feel like I'm just a bit of flotsom floating on the currents, bumping into whatever I bump. Other days I agonize over trying to figure out what is the “RIGHT” path for me to take….do I pursue door #1 or door #2?

Do I flip a coin? Do I listen to the council of others? Is it appropriate or presumptuous to take these concerns to God? Maybe whether I live in Oregon or Michigan, whether I am a teacher or a plumber, is of equally trivial concern.

How about you? How do you find your path?

How Honest??

2006-04-27T07:58:00.000-07:00

I have been grading discussion postings for my online classes and just came across a blatant case of plagiarism. This is not a matter of a student not understanding how to do a citation. This was direct cut and paste stealing words from another source that the student tried to pass off as his own.

Do I look that stupid?? It always amazes me when someone who can barely write a coherent sentence suddenly inserts prose with a vocabulary far beyond his/her own scope and expects me to buy it. So the student failed that assignment and was warned if it happened again he would fail the class, as stated in my academic honesty policy in the syllabus.

But it did raise the issue for me once more about why people cheat. No matter what some may say that "cheating only hurts yourself" that is not entirely true. Think of the potential consequences of having an airline pilot or surgeon who cheated his/her way through school.
There are far too many settings where someone passing off credentials s/he did not rightfully earn could have serious implications.

In many academic settings cheating is a huge problem. Unfortunately, too many teachers do not hold their students accountable. In an environment where points and grades are given more emphasis than subject mastery, even generally honest people are often tempted to cut corners if they can.

While I may get pious and indignant on this particular issue, I know there are areas in my own life where I could be more honest. That is an issue I've been examining of late...considering my own integrity and trying to "walk my talk" more consistently.

In the "big" areas I am quite clear on following a moral code of ethical behavior. But in too many "little" ways I fear I have slipped when it seems there are no consequences. However, the more I examine this issue the more I am coming to believe that a person's integrity is ALWAYS a big issue, even when the particular example at hand may seem entirely inconsequential.

Here is an example...I've offered to help a friend clean out her garage. We will load the junk in our truck and haul it off to the dump for her. Last Saturday the next town over, Milton-Freewater, was having "Free Dump Day" for anyone who had a M-F powerbill to prove their residency. Now, since we are talking about hauling off several loads, I must admit I was SORELY TEMPTED to simply have one of my M-F buddies ride along with us to make it possible to use her free dump pass rather than paying the $6.00 per load to use my own dump. I didn't do that. But I can't take credit for skipping that choice, since it was largely due to my husband saying there was no way his truck was going to take pirated garbage to an out of town dump. (Stuff like that is very clear for him).

Who would I have harmed had I done this? I'd have cheated my local dump out of the fees they were rightfully entitled to and I would have unnecessarily filled up the M-F dump faster. But more importantly, I would have compromised my integrity for a lousy $18 bucks.

I would never think of stealing $18,000. But isn't it just as wrong to cheat out $18?

So I'm working at taking stock of my day to day little choices to be able to look myself and my maker in the eye with a solid affirmative the next time I am asked "Are you honest?" Is it lying if I say NOTHING but know someone has a false impression about what I have said or done that I do not clarify? Is it dishonest to sell something without claiming attributes, but also not pointing out the deficiencies? Perhaps most important of all to me is the myriad ways that I do not lie to others, but am less that completely truthful with MYSELF in terms of owning my own intentions and behavior.

With student papers there is an easy way to check by running their work through GOOGLE or special plagiarism identifying software. When it comes to how I live my life, both in my head and in my conduct in the word, it takes a lot more soul searching.

This being human stuff ain't for sissies, ya know?

Quote for the Day

2006-04-26T06:35:00.000-07:00

"Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant with the weak and wrong...Because sometime in your life you will have been all of these."

I don't remember what famous person originally came up with this quote, but I really like it. This is the personal message my cousin, Deputy Steve Krebs, has on his "trading card" that his department puts out. These are much like baseball cards - has photo of the officer on the front and personal stats and a message on back. The kids try to collect 'em all (ooh...I'll trade you a K-9 officer for your SWAT, ok? No? Ok - I'll give you a motorcycle cop for your detective!) Program is supposed to help kids view public service officers in more positive terms.

ANYWAY...I lost my trading card years ago but I had been so impressed by what he chose as his personal message that I had written it down.

Do you have a favorite quote or saying that is meaningful to you?

Deja Vu Tunes

2006-04-25T07:19:00.000-07:00

The other day I was scanning through radio stations trying to find something decent to listen to. As my trusty FM blipped across the airwaves sampling one format after another, it landed briefly on a station playing the song “Crystal Blue Persuasions” by Tommy James and the Shondells.

I didn’t let it stay there as that’s not the kind of music I was looking for. But in those brief few seconds when I heard the old familiar tune….
“Look over yonder, what do you see? The sun is arising it’s ….” (switch) I was transported back to sixth grade (1968?) when I used to play the record endlessly until my older brother, Wayne, could stand it no more and came threatening deep bodily harm if I didn't stop.

That song triggered such vivid memories for me, conjuring up a complete sensory recap of what my room looked like, what clothes I wore, what our house smelled like, who my friends were, what I was involved in, how I felt emotionally, every detail about what it felt like to be me back at that time. Truly Déjà vu.

What songs most powerfully take you back to your earlier days? What sort of memories do they evoke?

As for my current play list, I’ve been listening to Alison Krauss, Matchbox 20, Bob Marley, early Fleetwood Mac, and some band from the Andes mountains on pan flutes whose name I don’t recall at the moment.

What are you listening to these days?

Holy Pascha - through UN-Orthodox eyes

2006-04-23T09:44:00.000-07:00

Today is Pascha, the day the Orthodox church celebrates the resurrection of Christ. I attended services at St. Silouan, the Orthodox church in Walla Walla, with my friends Juliana and Herman. It was quite an experience. My belief system and my personal history of how I typically worship both hold several key differences from Orthodoxy. In some ways, walking into their church is like walking into another world for me. My senses dance with soaking up all the tokens of symbolism and ritual…the icons, the incense, the candles and the liturgy. Still, my heart was warmed by the sincere welcome of the people there and I love hearing the rich acapella cadence of their choir.

The usual Sabbath services at St. Silouan run about the same schedule as my own church, but Pascha is entirely different. Today’s service was to begin at 4:00 AM. So I was a little bit bleary eyed when I arrived. I walked into the church in total darkness. The only light came from a tiny bulb illuminating the text that a reader was chanting out in a sing-song cadence. I found a place where I could see what was going on but didn’t think I would be very much in the way to begin my long vigil of standing.

There are no pews in an Orthodox church. There is one bench along the back wall for the elderly, infirm, or others who are not physically able to stand for long periods. But the general congregation stands through each service, which in this case was about three hours. The ability for all of them to stand for so long in such reverence, even the very young kids, is pretty impressive.

Slowly, in silence, the room began to fill up. Most (but not all) of the women wore head scarves and long skirts. People brought with them decorated candles to be used later in the service and many came carrying baskets of foods to be blessed by the Priest.

Pascha marks the end of Lent, the 40 day fast leading up to it. Every person’s fast is individual, with accommodations made for those with special health circumstances. But in general, faithful members of Orthodoxy do not eat meat, dairy products, eggs, or use any olive oil or wine for the entire 40 days. The baskets of food were things they had fasted from during that time that now could be a part of their celebration feast.

I’m not sure how to describe the service to someone who has never been inside an Orthodox church or around Orthodox people. Definitely high ritual. The officiators wear elaborate ceremonial robes in rich gold or white. At various times the Priest, Deacon and Sub-deacons walk around in a circle carrying sacred objects, intoning things I didn’t always understand. The movements and the words are all very specifically prescribed. There is quite a bit of symbolism and repetition. Much of the service is sung rather than spoken, with some phrases in Greek and others in Russian. On all sides of the room there are icons-- representations of Christ and various saints. Members of the congregation “venerate” the saints by approaching the icons, making the sign of the cross and kissing the pictures. It was all quite amazing to my eyes that are so accustomed to a very different sort of worship.

At one point in the service the Priest came out with lit candles and passed his light to others who in turn went around the chapel sharing their fire until everyone’s candle was lit. Brought out of the darkness, we could finally see each others faces clearly, so there were many smiles of acknowledgement as people spotted each other in the group. Then everyone went outside into the night and walked around the church with the choir singing. The bells that hang in the frame just behind the church were all rung together in an amazing pattern of deeply resonating tones. I imagine the neighbors were not too fond of that part in the wee hours of the morning, and it did start the local dogs to barking. But to me, a long time bell fan, it was utterly magical. (Check out All Saints of America Bells link on the side of this blog to see what these bells look like…sound files will eventually be added but aren’t up and running yet.)

Next we all stood in front of the church under the spreading branches of a tree that was completely covered in pink blossoms, listening to the Priest read the scripture passages about the resurrection. The sight of all those people worshiping in the darkness, with points of light shining from everyone’s candles and from the stars overhead was truly breathtaking.

When we went back into the church for the next portion of the service every light was on making the chapel glow with brightness. Where as the early part of the service dealt more with the death of Christ and the sins of the world, this part was all about the resurrection and the atonement, coming alive to the spirit as we die to our old lives.Communion was administered and the Priest blessed the baskets of food people had brought with them.

After the service was over, there was a gathering feast at the Senior Center and then the little kids got to have an egg hunt. There was much warm association, laughter, hugs as people greeted each other with “Christ is Risen!”

There were parts of the service that truly lifted me and parts that my mind turned away from – the references to the things I flat out do not believe. Yet the overall feeling of the whole service was one of reverence and deeply committed faith. I was honored to be there to participate.

In this post 9-11 world there has been so much animosity and mistrust between people of different faiths. I wish with all my heart that the world could find more tolerance, more genuine desire to understand one another rather than festering with so much ill will.

I do not believe in the concept of Trinity. I do not accept the Nicene Creed. I do not venerate saints. I do not view the mother of Christ, who Orthodox know as “Theotokos”, as one who can intercede on my behalf. Because of those things, there are some in the Orthodox faith who would declare that I am not Christian. But that’s ok. By their particular definition, I guess I’m not. I choose to believe anyone who accepts Jesus Christ as savior and the son of God, and does the best he or she can to follow His teachings is Christian. I have nothing to gain by arguing the point with others who believe differently.

Despite our many differences, I was richly blessed to stand with friends throughout this service to ponder what it is I DO believe. Rather than focus on the things that would set us apart, I chose to be enriched by the many places we have common ground. Like them, I too believe the central purpose of this life is to work out my salvation by coming to know God and by learning to submit my will to His words. Although my general style of worship may not resemble this service in the least, we are united through a faith in Christ that shapes each day of our lives.

However, I’ve also had friends or colleagues who were Buddhist, Moslem, Hindu, Jewish, Pagan or atheist who did NOT share my views about Christ being central to salvation. Even then, in most cases I was still able to find ways to relate to them as spiritual brothers and sisters, and to benefit by working toward understanding their various world views. In my mind, there is an important distinction between having a strong testimony of the truth of ones own beliefs and becoming condescending or arrogant toward others who believe differently.

There is much about Orthodoxy that is entirely counter to my understanding of the nature of God and my relationship to Him. But that doesn’t stop me from loving my Orthodox friends and deeply appreciating their willingness to accept me into their world without expecting to change who I am.

So today, in honor of Pascha, I continue the refrain so oft repeated by their choir:
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy.

I know I need it, sinner that I am.

Making Connections

2006-04-21T08:39:00.000-07:00

I am now in week 3 of Spring Term. My two online courses that I teach for Wenatchee Valley College are really beginning to get interesting. I am always intrigued to watch the process of relationships building between my students and with me, even though we do not meet each other face to face. It has certainly prompted me to rethink what it means to "know" someone or to call them a "friend." I know a great many people as colleagues, social acquaintances, or in some other specific context. Some of those I also consider to be my friends. Some I don't. The factors that distinguish friend from neutral acquaintances seem to have shifted for me over the years. What I am willing to give and what I expect to receive in a friendship keep evolving.

How about you? What determines if some you know is thought of as "friend"?

Each week in my Sociology of the Family class the students complete an assignment on a different topic. This week's topic is friendship. Take a look at the assignment questions I've listed below. If you like, pick one (or more) to give some thought to - whether just in your own world or share it here.

And whether you want to write anything or not.... I hope you go connect with a friend and let him/her know how much you value that bond. I know that my world would be a very bleak place indeed if not for the comfort and companionship of true friends.

************

1. What does "friendship"mean to you?

2. What are the qualities you look for in a good friend?

3. When does an acquaintance become a friend?

4. What makes a friendship become more or less significant / intimate to you?

5. What aspects of yourself do you share with a friend that you do not share with others?

6. What aspects of yourself do you usually hold back in your friendships?

7. What are some behaviors you expect from your friends

8. What are some behaviors you would not tolerate in your friends?

9. How does one's willingness to be vulnerable impact friendship development?

10. How would you deal with sexual and / or romantic feelings (either your own or the other person's) in a relationship you are committed to keeping as "just friends" ?

11. How do you deal with hurt feelings, conflicts, or betrayal of trust is a friendship?

12. How have you changed as an individual due to the influence of friends?

A parable

2006-04-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a bird.

It could be a robin, a blue jay, a hawk or a crow. Depends on who is telling the story. Any sort of migratory bird will fit the tale. Fill in whatever you like.

Well anyway, when it came time for all the birds of this certain bird’s group to begin flying south for the winter, one of his bird friends said: “Hey Jake, let’s not go this year. It is such a long way. Our wings get so tattered and worn on the trip. We always arrive exhausted, and all for what? A bit of a change of scenery? How about you and me stay here for the winter this year. It will be great. We’ll hang out. We’ll explore. We’ll have a great time. How about it? Let’s just stay where we are at. After all, this is a nice place.”

After some consideration, Jake decided he would stay with his friend. It seemed like an exciting plan. They would have grand adventures making their own way rather than always following the crowd. The other birds cautioned him against this. But Jake was determined to stay. So when the rest of the flock left for warm southern nesting grounds, Jake and his friend began gathering twigs and string to make new nests of their own inside a barn where they planned to stay for the winter.

At first it WAS fun. They flew in great circles in the sky, reveling in watching the seasons change. But then came the first really bad storm. Temperatures dropped and food became scarce. One week it rained every single day, and then it began to snow. The days got shorter and shorter. Things began to look grim. Predictably, after all his fine talk, Jake’s friend disappeared one day without so much as a good bye or a how do you do. Then Jake was left alone in a cold, dark barn wondering how he was going to survive the winter. He felt stupid for having stayed behind. But now it was too late to try to catch up to his flock. The storm patterns would kill him if Jake tried to fly south this late in the year.

So he hunkered down and did the best he could. He searched each day for food which became increasingly difficult to find. His feathers grew icy at the tips and his poor little beak was crusty with snot from a nasty cold. He was miserable. After a couple weeks of this, finally Jake’s strength gave out. He collapsed in a frozen heap onto the barn floor.

As he was lying in the dirt, preparing his bird mind for death, Jake suffered the ultimate insult with the farmer’s cow who lived in the barn came along and crapped all over him.

How RUDE!

However, the cow dung was warm. Slowly, stinky as it may have been, that mess of cow pile thawed out Jake’s frozen feathers. In a little while he found that he could move and he honestly was feeling much better. Still, the poor little guy was covered in cow crap which was not a very pleasant experience.

Then Max, the barn cat, came along to see what was happening. Max spoke to Jake, in a sweet purring voice: “Hey Jake, man, you really stink! That’s terrible what that inconsiderate cow did to you. Some animals just have a lot of gall…here you were struggling with cold, loneliness and a frozen, snotty beak and then that cow does THAT. I’m really sorry that happened to you. How about I help you get out from under there?”

Jake had always been rather suspicious of the barn cat. But Max seemed so sincere. So Jake gratefully accepted the cat’s offer, and allowed Max to painstakingly clean the oozing mess of cow crap off his matted feathers.

Max pawed away the big chunks very gently. Then he began licking Jake’s feathers until the bird was glistening and clean. Now Jake really was feeling MUCH better and he congratulated himself for having gotten through such a close call.

However, as Max got to the final feather, the cat grinned widely and said with a gleam in his eye…”HMMM, bird, you will be my lunch!” He pounced, bit through Jake’s head to crush his skull and then ate the bird in dainty cat bites, fastidiously cleaning his whiskers afterward.

Moral of the story?

1) Not everyone who gives you advice has your best interest at heart.
2) Not everyone who craps on you is your enemy or means you harm.
3) Not everyone who gets you out of crap is your friend.
4) While going off on your own for adventures may be fun, sometimes it makes sense to stay with trusted companions and listen to their council.
5) Never trust a barn cat.

Fraction Queen

2006-04-19T22:32:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm half way through my GED class. Amazingly enough, the math has been no problem at all. I can find common denominators with the best of 'em! We've gone through fractions, ratios and decimals without a hitch. As it turns out, teaching the reading is the biggest challenge. Math and writing are all about explaining the rules. Teaching reading to adults who come in with VERY diverse skill levels is a tougher nut to crack. But we are making progress.

Of course, I am entirely sleep deprived. Anyone who knows me well knows that "Momma's got the big-eye", meaning I have had chronic insomnia for years. My body can be completely, utterly exhausted, but just as I start to think about sleep my brain will click into overdrive, keeping me up for hours. I will go for days, sometimes over a week at a time on 3-4 hours per night until I really do collapse. Now that I have all these lesson plans to do in the wee hours of the night it just feeds into that pattern. So I'm about ready to drop.

But tomorrow we get our new bed. We've ordered a king size sleep number bed. I honestly doubt that our bed has had a whole lot to do with my discombobulated brain keeping me awake, but who knows? Maybe the new bed will be so cozy that I'll drift off to dream land before that wretched second wind can take over ....

But in the mean time here I will be in the dark late night...Reading, writing, pondering. Who knows? Maybe I'll learn to amuse myself with quadratic equations. There's actually something sorta soothing about the symmetry of mathematics and the flow of the logic of it. Strange how all those years when I was younger I fled in terror of parentheses and brackets, times signs and coefficients. It's really not nearly as complicated as I once believed.

So I can't help but wonder, what other assumptions, biases, predispostions or aversions am I ready to throw out the window with my silly old fear of math? Fear of water mabe? Not bloody likely. But ya never know. I doubt I'll be taking on any of Mark Spitz's world titles, but I might be ready to give another go to some serious snorkeling.... I'm ready for a few days on a beach!

Chained by progress??

2006-04-16T14:59:00.000-07:00

This morning I was putting the finishing touches on my Primary lesson, looking for a particular scripture I wanted to share with the kids I teach at my church. Alas, I am not much of a scriptorian. I know the basic stories and I can paraphrase lots of verses. I even have a general idea of where many of them can be found. However, I have not mastered full memorization of very many, and there are even fewer I can recall the exact reference of book, chapter and verse for.

My solution is simply to go to the scripture section of LDS.org (see link on the side of this blog) and put in ANY word or phrase I want to find a scripture on. The site’s search engine will zoom through the index and pop up every single scripture there is with that word or word combination. So that’s what I did this morning. I put in the word: “resurrection” and found what I was looking for.

It’s a great tool. But I’m afraid I’ve used it so much that I’ve become like the students in my GED class who cannot do even very basic arithmetic functions in their head because they are so used to the crutch of the calculator.

So I am wondering about how much I let this tool (or any technology I rely on, for that matter) be my servant and how much it makes me its slave.

I remain undecided. On the one hand, the important thing to me is that I DO look these scriptures up and study/ponder their meaning. Isn’t that more important that how I find them? Yet perhaps I truly have done a disservice to myself by copping out to the quick search time after time rather than training myself to be more familiar with the books on my own.

I believe it is important that I know my times-tables and that I can adequately add, subtract and divide. Still, I consistently use a calculator when I balance my checkbook. I see no harm done by using a dishwasher and vacuum cleaner rather than washing all my plates and utensils by hand and beating rugs with a stick. Nevertheless, it saddens me that so many valuable homemaking skills are being lost in our world of freeze dried food, microwave cooking and sweat-shop produced clothing that are less expensive to purchase than they would be to make yourself.

At what point does using technology to make things quicker and easier cross the line of “help” to actually become a hindrance in terms of loss of personal skills or circumventing community networking? A lot of good things come out of old fashioned quilting bees and barn raisings besides builidngs and blankets.

I suspect that some of the nostalgia for the way things were done in the "good old days" is seriously misplaced...still the mad rush to modernization that has brought us so much "new and improved" may not be the panacea it claims to be.

What technology or tools do you find most helpful? Which ones do you prefer to avoid?

Holy Day / Holiday

2006-04-15T23:00:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow (Sunday) most of the western world recognizes as Easter. For many of you it will be a day of ham dinners, chocolate bunnies, jelly beans and brightly colored hard boiled eggs. For some it will be a time of attending church, or simply quiet reflection pondering the atonement and resurrection of Jesus Christ. For my Orthodox friends it will be Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week to culminate in Pascha on April 23.

What is Easter like at your house?

When I was growing up it was a time for spiffy new outfits (although sometimes those outfits included really stupid looking hats ….hey Sharon how come I got stuck with the one that looked like a frisbee on my head??)

I remember hiding grapefruits instead of eggs one year when I was a kid…not exactly sure why. Perhaps because they were plentiful and easier to find? I have a few vague memories of a picnic one year with my family out by the old swinging bridge – I remember catching tadpoles and pollywogs in the river and being scared to death when my brothers ran across the ancient suspension bridge causing it to sway. Couldn't find any pictures of the ACTUAL bridge - but here's some others you bridge fans may enjoy: http://www.bridgemeister.com/imgpage/old1.htm

The first year that Larry and I lived in Ohio (1981) we hid colored eggs in the snow for our kids to find – big change from all our years in Arizona. Judging by the looks of the storm we’ve had here all day, folks I know up on Weston Mountain will be doing the same this year.

For me it will be a quiet, reverent day. I'll go to church and try to teach a lesson on the atonement to a group of 5-7 yrs olds that will no doubt rockin' on a sugar high from early morning raids of candy. Then I will come home and cook a ham, and probably make some phone calls to each of my siblings.

Whatever it is that you believe, or whatever your Easter traditions may be, many blessings to you as you celebrate this sacred time.

Prodigal Dog

2006-04-12T07:22:00.000-07:00

Our prodigal basset hound, Morgan Dog, has returned.

The other day the front gate got left unlatched, so sometime in the evening Morgan escaped. Larry and I went driving all over town looking for her, to no avail. Fortunately, by the next morning, the beast was back, none the worse for her adventures.
Her brief absence gave me time to think about the role of pets in our lives, and to consider what it would have meant to me if she never came back.

Over the years when I was growing up, our family had all sorts of critters. In addition to the usual cats and dogs, our menagerie included a vile tempered donkey that once bit me on the leg, a couple of goats, a pony, some rabbits, chickens, various birds, three monkeys, a sheep and even a pig. We did not live on a farm, or even out in the country. We simply had a large enough yard to accommodate our ever changing cast of critters and indulgent parents who went along with our whims. This was long before zoning ordinances began forbidding having such animals in the middle of town.

I still remember the heartache I felt when Terpie (a little white dog) got hit by a car or the fear and worry we all went through when a later dog, Gulliver, got bit by a rattlesnake. (Gulliver survived, Terpie did not).

In one of the online classes I am currently teaching, “Sociology of the Family,” my students have been having a discussion as to whether or not pets should be considered as actual members of a family or as possessions of the family. They have had some interesting comments on both sides, talking about how much expense or sacrifice it is reasonable to make for an animal and why dogs may or may not deserve more grief at their passing than do goldfish.

I have no illusions that we “own” Morgan Dog. We participate in a relationship with this canine. We have accepted certain responsibilities for her wellbeing. I enjoy this animal immensely. But there are limits to the bond. I would have been sad, but not devastated had she disappeared for keeps. I’m willing to pay her vet bills and food bills and buy her the occasional squeaky toy. I would not, however, go into debt for thousands of dollars for elaborate medical procedures to prolong her life as I would for a child. Her first birthday is coming up on April 16 and while I will get her some special doggie treat, I doubt we will throw her a party or keep a photo album of the event. (although I know people who have done that too!)

What animals do you share your world with? What do you think it is reasonable to do or not do for them? What pets do you have special memories of from the past?

Rainy Day

2006-04-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

Today makes the third straight Saturday in a row that it has rained. Our lawn was beginning to look like a wild meadow. Fortunately, the weather broke long enough during the week that Larry was finally able to get it mowed. Still, there were many things I had planned to get done today that simply will not happen AGAIN on account of the rain.

So it goes… This rain reminds me of something my dad used to say whenever anyone complained about the weather:

“As a rule, a man’s a fool.
When he’s hot, he wants it cool.
When he’s cool, he wants it hot.
Always wanting what its not.”

So I am trying to simply be grateful for the moisture that will nourish the crops and make flowers and trees bloom more abundantly. I’m trying to see the blessing of this rain rather than the inconvenience.

My daffodils and hyacinths are all blooming. Tulips are putting on fat heads. Many of the ornamental trees around town (dogwoods, crabapple, flowering cherry, hawthorne, magnolia, etc) are either in bloom or putting on buds.

Spring is an amazing time of renewal – as the natural world reclothes itself after the long winter barrenness and spiritually as those of us who are Christian ponder the sacred days of Easter and Pascha.

When I lived in the Midwest I always said that autumn was my favorite time of year because I loved the spectacular colors of the trees changing, the bringing in of harvest, and some of the celebrations of that time of year. But here we don’t have the deep woods that I so loved in Ohio and Michigan, so I’ve come to appreciate spring more than the fall. Either way – I’m glad I live in a place where the seasons do change. After ten years in Phoenix where the concrete and palm trees stay pretty monotonous, having four distinct season each year feels like a real blessing.

How about you? What time of year do you like the best?

Litany Against Fear

2006-04-06T06:30:00.000-07:00

I've started putting together lesson plans for my GED class. I was doing ok until I started going through the Math book and saw all those fractions, equations, and yes, even a few square roots.

I will admit for a moment there I had a bit of a melt down. My confidence wavered and I felt almost nauseas.

But then I recalled the famous words of the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert's Dune Book Series:

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. "

Those words hold a lot of power. Whether it is fear of math, fear of looking foolish, fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of pain - WHATEVER - it is all too easy to become immobilized if I stay stuck in a state of fear. If I allow my fear to win then I quit taking risks, I quit learning and I quit growing.

So bring on the polynomials and the orders of operations! Yeah, I'll make some mistakes. I won't have all the answers. But I WILL build greater understanding and I will have the knowledge and skills I need to get these students to where they need to be.

More than that, I will look at other areas of my life where I allow fear to hold me back.

This morning I am asking myself questions about what I might do or say or become if I could be stronger than every one of my fears. What could shift or change in how I live? How I love?

I've been working on a list of the 50 things I want to accomplish, acquire or achieve by the time I hit 50 yrs old..... my Fifty-by-Fifty list. It has been interesting to note the areas where I am willing to pull out all the stops and DREAM BIG and the places I get cautious.

So I am curious. What are some of YOUR goals? What would you like to do in the next 5-10 yrs?? What's stopping you?

What are you afraid of? What could you do to conquer that fear?

Too Much of a Good Thing??

2006-04-04T06:28:00.000-07:00

Well, I’m hoping I have not bitten off more than I can chew.

Yesterday when I showed up at the Community College where I work doing academic research and designing programs to support student success, I received a frantic e-mail from the Director of Basic Programs, who is in charge of all remedial classes, GED, Adult Basic Education (ABE) and English and a Second Language (ESL). Apparently they had a GED instructor abruptly resign with no notice. GED classes were scheduled to begin last night and there was no teacher. What to do?

So of course I said, SURE! I can do that!

What was I thinking? Was I NUTS????

What this will involve will mean I will teach a class of 20 students from 5:00-8:00 PM every Monday and Wednesday night for the next five weeks. This is on top of having a very demanding full time job and then teaching two online sociology classes on an adjunct basis for a different college on the side. So I am now officially working three jobs.

My kids are grown and gone. My husband is wonderfully supportive. There is no reason why I can't do this, right? But when I think about what it will mean to have to balance all those commitments (along with church callings, family obligations and just trying to manage my LIFE) I just want to go running through the streets looking like that famous painting The Scream by Edvard Munch. This is just too, too much!

So I keep vacillating between wanting to kick myself for agreeing to do it and being nervous / excited about the opportunity.

Granted, I will have a very busy schedule. But here’s the deal. I LOVE teaching. I am passionate beyond words about being in a classroom working with students. When I am teaching I fall into a groove and it feels like all the planets have lined up. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes I KNOW I am doing what I was born to do. So I could not possibly have turned this down.

But wait a minute. REALITY CHECK! I love teaching SOCIOLOGY - something I know quite a bit about. Teaching a GED class means that along with the reading and writing I will be teaching MATH...not exactly my strong suit. Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! What was I thinking??????

So this will be a challenge for me, to be sure. But I'm up for it. Last night was the first class and it went very well.
Ready or not…..here I come! Wish me luck. I’m gonna need it!

A Wrinkle in Time

2006-04-02T19:25:00.000-07:00

Daylight saving time is here again. On the one hand, I enjoy having more sunshine hours when I get home from work at the end of the day. Still, the whole concept of it truly baffles me. Having grown up in Arizona where there is no such thing as daylight saving time, I’ve had to learn to adapt to the custom as an adult. So in some respects, I’m like a person who learned English as a second language as an adult – no matter how fluent I get I still have to translate in my head and will always have an accent. It just plain feels foreign to me. I mean really, who ever started this thing anyway? Was it politicians or golf course owners who got together and said “hey, here’s a groovy idea, let’s change what time it is!”

I was completely taken aback when I did a little research on the topic and learned that “the idea of daylight saving was first conceived by Benjamin Franklin during his sojourn as an American delegate in Paris in 1784, in an essay, ‘An Economical Project.’ Read more about Franklin's essay.” I also did not know that the practice of changing clocks twice a year takes place in several countries. So, it’s not just some crazy American notion to increase recreation and save electricity.

Its really pretty ludicrous that I balk at changing from “real” time to “false” time. Cutting up the flow of moments into 60 second minutes and 60 minute hours is completely arbitrary to begin with.

In pondering the whole notion of time it occurs to me that while we may use the expression of “saving time”, there really is no way to bank moments of our lives. We have the same 24 hrs in each day that was allocated to Christopher Columbus, St. Barsanuphius, Michelangelo, Madame Curie, Frank Zappa, Florence Nightingale, Jack the Ripper, or Coco the Clown. How we each choose to spend that time is up to us. Whether it is in light or dark, we each choose moment by moment what meaning we give to the minutes we get. We choose whether we will spend it in “quiet desperation” or mundane pursuit, whether we will search for spiritual growth or squander it in hedonistic revelry.

Sometimes I feel altogether too much like those hamsters you see going round and round and round in that little exercise circle, being awfully darned busy but not really getting anywhere.

Every now and then I will find some cash I’ve left in a pocket or a book or a drawer and think to myself BONUS and then go out to spend. But I’ve never opened a drawer and found that spare half hour I’d tucked away for later. Sure, sometimes my schedule may free up some time from one expected obligation or another to give me increased choices of how I will spend my minutes, giving the illusion of some “found” time. But I only get what I get. There is no more hiding around the corner. Unlike videogames and pinball, no matter how many points I wrack up, I don’t get another go.
So I’m thinking about my time and how I’m spending it. I’m thinking it is high time that I started making some new choices to make my days more by design and less by default. But, for now, I think I’ll go curl up with the book “Einstein’s Dreams” by Alan Lightman and lose myself in notions of the fluidity of time for a while…..

BOOKWORM

2006-03-31T09:01:00.000-08:00

So what are you guys reading these days?

Right now I'm alternating between "The Rock Child" by Win Blevins, "Killing Pablo" by Mark Bowden, and "The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul" by Douglas Adams. I have 'em in different rooms throughout the house and tend to gravitate to where ever the book I'm in the mood for happens to be. I love spring break - it means all the time I normally spend reading student essays gets to be spent sampling books by choice.

I will be forever grateful to my parents for instilling in all of us kids a love for good books. They may not have had two dimes to rub together, but they always made sure our house was filled with good reading material. Language and literacy were hugely important to Don & Nancy Pendley.

So I am curious...what are YOU reading these days? What books have been the most influential in your life? What books could you read over and over? Any key lessons you have learned from a good book?

Wanderlust

2006-03-30T18:36:00.000-08:00

Eric asked if I have ever moved just for the sake of moving, rather than always following jobs or some other practical necessity. Nope. Every one of the ten moves I've made over the past 25 years have either been due to an employment change (lots of corporate transfers for Larry) or a housing upgrade. But I've sure dreamed about it.

I did a 10 day backpack trip in Tennessee years ago with a college class and fell in love with that part of the country. Then this past August, Larry and I spent some time in Alaska with friends doing some serious fishing and white water rafting. We had a blast. I've been in about 40 of the 50 states at one time or another. I've also had opportunities to spend time in Costa Rica and Fiji.

I may be too practical to just up and move on a whim, but I suppose I will always love to travel. Aunt Joy says I inherited my wanderlust from my dad. I have plenty of memories of Don Pendley dreaming of / threatening to up and move us all to Australia. He never did though. To the best of my knowledge, he never even visited the place. Still, he definitely instilled in me a hunger to see the world.

Larry and I are hoping to take another dream trip this year in celebration of our 25th anniversary, but we have not yet settled on a specific destination. Any suggestions??

Geography Lessons

2006-03-29T10:32:00.000-08:00

As I looked over who has signed on to this blog so far, it confirms what I already knew.... What Frank and Jane Pendley started on that homestead in Oak Creek all those years ago has spread out to posterity all over the place. I know of sibs or cousins in the following places:

Arizona, Idaho, California, Colorado, Oregon, Washington, Texas, Michigan, Germany and quite possibly some other spots I am missing.

I am in Athena, Oregon. It's a TINY little agricultural community in Eastern Oregon, just 25 miles or so from the Washington border. We are half way between Pendleton, OR and Walla Walla, WA.

I am always intrigued by why people live where ever they are. In our case, Larry and I opted to follow his job which is why over the past 25 years we've lived in six states! Others may pick a place they feel an affinity for and then find a way to make living there feasible. How about you? Why do you live where you live? What's it like there? If you could live anyplace in the world that you wanted, where would that be?

To Blog or not to Blog - That is the Question.

2006-03-28T19:24:00.000-08:00

Greetings fellow Pendley tribe members, friends, or total strangers, whatever the case may be.

I've been toying with an idea for some time now of starting a family Blog to provide a forum for sharing news, photos, stray thoughts or whatever else various extended family members would be comfortable hanging out in a public space. The genesis for this project comes as a result of several influences:

1) I've been regularly reading some tales on blogs by other people, and in so doing have had all my notions about privacy and community utterly challenged.

2) My current full time job is "Learning Specialist" for Blue Mountain Community College where one of my roles is to promote various uses of technology for enhancing teaching & learning. In that capacity I've had a chance to look at a lot of different ways that people communicate.

3) My other job is adjunct instructor for Wenatchee Valley College. I teach two on-line courses for them: Principles of Sociology and Sociology of the Family. Both classes make extensive use of threaded discussion. In my Family course I had a student say: "I wish I had a discussion board like this I could share with my family members who live all over the country. It would be a great way for us all to stay in touch."

So I thought, why not? I figured I'd go ahead and set it up, and then let individual tribe members choose whether or not they want to participate.

It is a little weird, I must admit, to have conversations with each other that ANYONE with an internet connection could access. So some basic courtesy and precautions are definitely in order. For example - it's perfectly fine to share anything about YOU and your immediate household that you are comfortable having displayed in this public sort of forum. It's NOT ok to disclose information about other family members- even if it seems totally harmless. What feels quite innocuous to one person may be perceived as quite private to someone else. So no "outing" others about their comings and goings, including upcoming vacation plans, last weekend's barbecue, cute kid sayings or anything else, unless you have that person's permission, ok?

I would imagine there may be some family members who will be appalled at the whole notion of this family blog. That's fine. They don't have to play. Others may choose to read occasionally to see what the clan is up to, but stay in the background lurking without ever logging on themselves. That's ok too. But for those of you who may be willing - let us hear from you!

I've got aunts and uncles and cousins I deeply care about but seem to have completely lost touch with. Face it, most of you only hear from me in an annual Christmas letter. It's not that I don't think of you other times of the year. I do! But correspondence seems to be a dying art.

So let's try this and see what happens. Perhaps there will be a few feeble postings and then it will die out all together. Or not. It's up to us.

Ball is in your court. Want to play?