Food storage gone seriously wrong...

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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….