The Middle Way

Metaphors of Motherhood

Mother's Day is just around the corner, and it finds me in a reflective mood.

As a young mother, I celebrated new milestones and looked forward to future accomplishments. As a mom whose job is done -- child raised, launched and successfully navigating his world -- the smallest things, remnants of our shared past, lurk in every corner of my memory. 

Today, a brief conversation about well-used childhood blankets brought one such memory to mind. Two days before the space shuttle Challenger blew up, friends from work held a baby shower for me. One of the gifts was a green receiving blanket -- the very one we used to wrap up my son and bring him home from the hospital.

This blanket became my son's anchor, the one thing he had to have when he went to bed at night and the first thing he reached for every morning. Before he spoke his first real words, there was something he used to say all the time: Ahdeedah. It finally dawned on us that it was his name for his blanket.  

Ahdeedah became a household fixture -- and one I had trouble separating him from. On one memorable occasion my efforts to spirit it away for a much needed washing resulted in his stubbornly standing by the washing machine until the cycle had finished. Another time, he realized he'd forgotten it when we were about 5 minutes away from a weekly meeting I attended. I thought his howling would stop by the time he joined the other kids in the nursery, but 5 minutes into my meeting, the caregiver came to get me: he would not be consoled. 

We left.

By the time he went to kindergarten, he no longer relied as much on having his blanket nearby at all times. I was the one who insisted he take it with him for nap time during his all-day kindergarten. And the inevitable happened: just a couple of days into the school year, he left it on the bus. We talked to the driver and the bus company, but we never found it again.

For him? That was that. In a peculiar reversal of roles, it was he who was willing to let it go and I the one who cried.

Many years now separate me from that memory. Yet on the brink of a cross country move that will put many miles between us for the forseeable future, I see all the ways parenting is one long exercise in saying goodbye. That first eagerly anticipated step begins a process that takes our children ever further away from us, one way or another. And they are always more ready for that journey than we are.  

For someone who's never looked back on the past with regret, this later life nostalgia always catches me by surprise. It's different from sadness. It's not about wishing that time could stand still, or wanting to be the center of my son's life as I was when he was little. It's more about finally understanding and appreciating the ties that bind, seeing all the connections that weren't visible before.

And appreciating them in all their beauty: a rich tapestry of our lives together. One that we're not done weaving.

 

To Marcy, who taught me grace

Sometimes people come into your life and you don't realize what you've learned from them until after they're gone.

Marcy was one of those people for me. That's her on the right, in the picture above. We visited with her and her husband, Barry, in their old RV on an unseasonably warm night last December and talked of returning in the spring to take a long bike ride and have a cookout.  

I didn't meet Marcy until several years after a stroke and related illnesses permanently altered the vital woman I can only see through Barry's pictures and memories. The Marcy I knew spent most of her time in a wheelchair. Despite her physical limitations, I never saw her without a big smile and a warm hug. She had a joyful, raucous laugh, and she frequently turned it on herself as she struggled with some small thing most of us can do without thinking.

Even as her world grew smaller, she never lost her sense of joy and delight. When the bank foreclosed on their home, and she and Barry moved into an old RV, she talked about how freeing it was to downsize to just the truly necessary. As a city girl living in the country for the first time, she delighted in the sights, sounds and scents of the abundant life around them. 

I can think of no better words to salute Marcy and her life than those of another friend who left this life too soon:

Cirrus

I'd like to leave
an imprint
on the world
lighter than
I'd formerly meant.
Just a scent, 
not the thud
of the thing
steaming on a plate.
Instead of "I told you so!"
let my epitaph be
the glance, the edge,
the mist. The delicately
attenuated swirl
of an innuendo
instead of the thunderhead.
The rain that fell
when I was ambitious
seemed conspiringly rushed
in my way. But the same rain
today tastes of here and now
because of where it's been.
I'd like to be gentle
with small, great things.
They are larger
than what we think
we came here for.
I'd like to be an eye of light
that opens the air
and burns beyond ambition,
like the sun that can't see us
and is beyond our human reach, 
yet is in us trillions of times over.

- Jack Myers from his posthumously published book of poems, "The Memory of Water."

What I Learned On My Summer Vacation

First, some background: 

Facebook Entry: July 4, 2012

Much to my own surprise, the competitive spirit I didn't think I had has been awakened by a program at my gym. Although I didn't join the Spring Fever program for the competition (or rather generous awards), I've consistently ranked #1 since Day 1. Enter my nemesis, whose name I've smudged out. With only 4 days to go, we're running neck and neck. It's down to the truly crazy, like wearing my Polar tracking device while we walked all over Boston yesterday (including up the 297 steps of the Bunker Hill memorial). But -- it put me back in the lead. 

I am determined to win this thing now :-)

I titled this screen grab “My Nemesis”

Epilogue: despite my enthusiasm and determination, I lost. It was a combination of factors: an equally determined competitor who – like me – wanted to win. And late in the game, a dark horse who waited until the last minute to add lots of points (including one workout she claimed burned 2500 calories in a single day).  

But before I knew about the dark horse, and before I thought all was lost, I spent my last two days in Boston -- on vacation! -- attempting to regain my lead. Crazy squared: I walked 10 miles each day, an expenditure of 5+ hours and 2000+ calories. Had I entered the second day’s walk before we left Boston, I would have come in second. But clued into how to play the game now -- hoard your uploads until the last minute to confound your opponents – I opted to wait until we got to our family rental in Rhode Island, which promised an internet connection it didn’t deliver. I wasn’t able to upload my last day’s walk in time for the contest cutoff. 

Although I was disappointed by my loss, I was also surprised by how this competitive urge spurred me to increase my level of exercise. If you’d told me two months ago that I’d go out and walk 10 miles at a pop, I would have said, “Why?” Now I’m doing it at least once a week. In fact, I’ve upped the time devoted to exercise by at least 50% most days.

Other than discovering my inner competitive spirit, what did I gain from this experience? 

1. I’m capable of doing more. I’ve been exercising an hour a day, five times a week for three years (and regularly but less frequently before that). Along with a healthier diet, it’s one of the ways I’ve lost 40 pounds. Until my gym’s fitness challenge, though, I hadn’t challenged myself to go beyond my regular routine. Once I did, I learned I could do far more than I thought. (This applies to other areas of my life as well.)
   
   
2. I need to eat less than others -- and exercise more, too. Two years ago I joined a program at my gym called “Commit to be Fit,” a 12-week program of exercise and diet pitting teams of people in a friendly competition to lose the most weight. It worked so well I ended up participating two more times, and really cementing healthier eating and exercise habits.
   
   
   

   The worst thing I ate on vacation: the Boot Mill sandwich at Arthur’s Paradise Diner in Lowell, Mass. Eggs, cheese, bacon and potatoes on a bun. (We won’t even talk about how much wine and beer I consumed.)

   ---

   The program also included a test that confirmed what I already suspected: I have a low metabolism. My resting metabolic rate is only 1500 calories a day -- 1800 when you add in the average for daily activity. Through experience, I learned that number is closer to 1600. And to lose weight, I need to stay at the low end of 1200-1400 calories.
   
   So…to both lose weight and maintain that loss, I’m stuck with consuming fewer calories and finding ways to turn up the furnace. Adding an extra hour (or more) to my daily exercise regimen did just that: I lost 3 pounds on vacation, even though I was indulging myself more than usual. And I’ve maintained that weight loss since I came home.
   
   
3. It’s not just about exercise. It’s the daily activity, too. While I was on vacation, I traipsed around tourist sites, biked, hiked, walked and just generally moved around a lot more. I watched zero television and spent far less time sitting in front of a computer. It’s hard to maintain that level of activity since I’ve come home – but I’m going to work on it. 
   
   
4. Feeding the good wolf. I’m going to steer clear of saying “good” and “bad” habits and just say I have some behaviors that contribute to greater well-being and some that don’t. The option to exercise more only came about because I’d already made a commitment to exercise in the first place. Likewise, I don’t stray very far from my healthy eating patterns before yanking myself back again. And the very best way to encourage myself to continue practicing well-being is to remind myself of my successes – not my failures. Success breeds success; continually berating yourself for your failures just serves to keep them at the center of your attention. If you’re like me, that’s a sure recipe for bringing on the exact behavior you want to see less of.

As I took what ended up being a 10 mile walk this morning, I recognized the unique factors that allowed me to do all the things I’m writing about. This includes the privilege of being semi-retired, the legacy of my long career at an incredible company whose retirement plan made that possible. And being 58 with a grown child and no other household or family responsibilities.

I would strongly dislike it if anyone reading this beat up on themselves for not doing more. Instead, I would say practice your own well-being where you are right now. At another time in my life, that meant jogging at pre-dawn or working out at the gym in my office after lunch so I could minimize the time away from my son. 

And – challenge yourself as circumstances change. You might find yourself as surprised as I was with what you’re capable of doing.

 

Really?

 

Like many women, I’m amazed that our national political conversation has returned to a topic I thought we settled long ago: birth control.

As a young woman contemplating my first sexual experience, the most important question after “when” was: how do I make sure I don’t get pregnant? I knew one thing: I wanted control over the decision about when to have a child.

When I entered the workforce in the mid ‘70’s, birth control pills were the only regularly prescribed medication not covered by my company’s insurance plan. That didn’t change until women gained a larger share of responsibility and became more valued contributors.   

Fast forward to 2012 and we’re arguing, again, about whether insurers should cover birth control. The Obama Administration says yes, and mandated that the Affordable Care Act should fully fund those costs. Many conservatives (and the Catholic Church) say no, citing religious and/or First Amendment rights. While I don’t agree with the Catholic Church on this issue, I respect their belief, which has been nothing but consistent as long as I’ve walked this earth (even as every Catholic I’m related to or acquainted with chooses to ignore their teachings on this topic). And while my conservative friends will disagree with me, I think Obama has done an admirable job of trying to work within this constraint while still holding true to the principle of universal coverage. 

Like most non-religious people, I respect those with strong religious beliefs, and my circle includes both close friends and family members who fit that description (including my nephew, who plans to enter the Catholic priesthood). This makes me inclined to roll up my sleeves when faced with religious objections and say, “OK – what can we do to make sure women who want this coverage can obtain it under the same conditions as every other woman in the country, in a way that won’t violate your beliefs?” If self-insured Catholic institutions say that putting the onus on their insurance companies, as Obama proposed, is still a violation, what are other possible solutions? 

The other conservative complaint I see goes something like, “I don’t want to pay for your sex life,” with the implication that covering birth control comes out of your own pocket. Yet that’s how insurance works: it pools the costs of members’ coverage across the insured population. Your premiums help pay the cost of other participants’ health care expenses with the expectation that their premiums will also help pay yours. Do we really want people (or the companies who insure us) choosing what they pay for? Taking this to its logical extreme, should non-smokers be required to pay for a smoker’s lung cancer?  A recovering alcoholic’s liver transplant? 

Keeping insurance costs down involves balancing the pool of participants so that healthy people pay more into the system than they draw from it. The excess funds they generate help pay for the higher costs of those who withdraw more than they pay in. I accept this trade-off as a citizen who values living in a community where we take care of each other. I’m fine with having some of my health care dollars support those who need it more; after all, I might find myself in their shoes someday. 

Many insurers increasingly realize the cost benefits of fully covering the cost of certain health care procedures as part of their wellness programs. That’s one of the reasons why my plan now fully covers annual mammograms for women and colonoscopies for people over 50. Birth control falls within this category as well, particularly for low income women, whose rates of unplanned pregnancy are far higher (and whose complications from pregnancy are correspondingly higher as well). And contrary to what some pundits say, the cost can be considerable, especially for the most effective options and for those with fewer resources.

I’m not comfortable with painting this discussion as a “war on women.” In fact, I’m not comfortable with retreating into either side’s talking points vacuum. What concerns me is that at the same time we’re heading to our usual corners and shouting at each other, many states are making it increasingly difficult for women to have access to affordable health care coverage (including reproductive health services). That means more women will lose access to cervical and breast cancer screenings, testing for sexually transmitted diseases, and other services. This will certainly result in more women dying from preventable diseases. 

 I would like to think this would concern us all. 

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

The very purpose of spirituality is self-discipline. Rather than criticizing others, we should evaluate and criticize ourselves. Ask yourself, what am I doing about my anger, my attachment, my pride, my jealousy? These are the things we should check in our day to day lives. -- Dalai Lama 
 

Bullying has been in the news a lot lately. All over the country, every day, you’ll find news reports of its sometimes tragic aftermath and efforts to stop it. We feel outrage and ask why this is happening. We blame the kids, we blame the parents, we blame the schools, we blame TV or violent video games or Facebook or… 

Let’s instead hold up the mirror and take a long look at what our children see, every day. Like reality television shows whose ratings rely on berating contestants or trash talking each other. Or cable “news” channels where it’s standard operating procedure to replace facts with hyberbole at best and untruths and half truths at worst. Or debates with candidates vying for the US Presidency where the debate sponsor encourages a reality TV atmosphere, with predictable results. Where being angry and shouting over those you disagree with and calling them names, denigrating them and everything they stand for, is standard operating procedure. 

Maybe politics has always been a brutal contact sport but the rest of life didn’t used to be. I remember. I remember listening to conservatives like William Buckley, and while as I grew older, I didn’t share many of his political views, I never felt like shouting at my TV when he espoused them. I remember when facts were facts -- not something that had a left or right spin.

Sometimes it seems we’ve lost our ability to talk across these social and political divides. It’s easy to avoid each other or even hearing the same news; modern society provides us with our own echo chambers. There are very few opportunities to leave them and hold real dialogues. 

Every now and then, something breaks through and we see – for a moment – just people with different views, having a real conversation. Like this recent interview with Jon Stewart and Republican Senator Jim DeMint. Like the U.S. House of Representatives coming together to demonstrate respect for a colleague – and each other – when Rep. Gabby Giffords resigned. 

Some would say we respect civility but we reward rudeness. I would agree. And yet, every time I make a choice to read the story with the leering headline, I’m rewarding the kind of behavior I want to see less of. It may be part of our evolutionary conditioning to be drawn more to drama than to discussion – I get that. So does the media: angry people hurling accusations at each other draw eyes. It makes me wonder who profits from this constant “us versus them” state of affairs. 

By actively seeking out angry and tawdry behavior, by supporting diatribe over dialogue with those who believe differently than us -- well. It’s like letting the bullies win.

To Serve and Protect

“I want to save lives and serve my country.”

That’s what my son said at his swearing in ceremony earlier this week when asked why he’d chosen to serve in the Coast Guard.

And I -- who came of age to Bob Dylan’s raging Masters of War, violent protests in the streets and on college campuses, and a deep suspicion of government in the wake of Kent State and Watergate – felt humbled by my son’s conviction of purpose.

On the day he shipped out, we got up before dawn so I could deliver him to the Military Entrance Processing Station by 05:45. I don’t think he got more than an hour or two of sleep and I could see by the set of his jaw and the pallor of his face that he was tired and nervous.

I came back later in the morning and met my son’s traveling companion, the only other Coastie shipping out that day, as well as a newly commissioned Seaman who had graduated a week earlier. He was on hand to answer any questions about what the new recruits could expect over the next eight weeks. Both found this helpful (along with the reminder, “It’s only 8 weeks”).

I also met his recruiter, who fleshed out a few details about the graduation date and advised me to book a room soon; mid-July is high tourist season in trendy Cape May, New Jersey. 

My son’s fiancé -- a first year medical student in the middle of year-end exams -- arrived in time for the formal swearing in. Afterwards, we went to the airport and said our final goodbyes. 

Not a waking hour goes by that I don’t wonder what my son is doing – how he’s managing, whether he’s sleeping OK, how he’s feeling. Previous separations always included the comfort of email, text messages, phone calls and chat to keep us in touch. For the next eight weeks, it will only be letters quaintly sent by US mail.

The times that shaped my son are different than those that shaped me. He’s made a choice I cannot imagine having made for myself, nor would necessarily have chosen for him. And yet I’m proud of his determination to succeed and the sacrifices he’s making to pursue this career he aspires to. 

My thoughts stray often to him, warmly enveloping him in love and well wishes. And I’m looking forward to reuniting with the young Seaman who will greet me on the other side of these eight long weeks. 

Why Won't They Listen?

Why don't people believe climate scientists that anthropomorphic global warming is real and a growing threat?

This question puzzling scientists comes as no surprise to social scientists. NPR's All Things Considered ran a recent story highlighting research that shows a belief in climate change hinges on a person's world view. From NPR's story:

"To social scientist and lawyer Don Braman, it's not surprising that two people can disagree so strongly over science. Braman is on the faculty at George Washington University and part of The Cultural Cognition Project, a group of scholars who study how cultural values shape public perceptions and policy beliefs.

" 'People tend to conform their factual beliefs to ones that are consistent with their cultural outlook, their world view,' Braman says."

The Cultural Cognition group ran a series of experiments among people whose cultural beliefs were labeled individualistic -- those who embrace new technology, authority and free enterprise -- and communitarian -- those who are suspicious of authority or of commerce and industry. In a series of experiments, both groups formed vastly different opinions when presented with the same scientific facts.

"It doesn't matter whether you show them negative or positive information, they reject the information that is contrary to what they would like to believe, and they glom onto the positive information," Braman says.

It turns out that the messenger is also important. You don't send Al Gore to talk to climate skeptics; they won't be able to hear him with any sense of objectivity. To persuade the climate change discussion, scientists need to focus more on influencing the influencers in the skeptics' camp.

The broader implications go beyond climate science. Anyone watching the Health Care summit (as I did for 6 hours) could plainly see that the people sitting around the table were not convincing anyone to change their beliefs. Implacable, strained expressions -- all.

No one is immune to this. We all shape the world we live in by our particular belief systems. We are all resistant to changing our beliefs, even when confronted with evidence that's in direct conflict with them. Some of the most painful moments I've lived through came when I could no longer block a particular truth from penetrating my protective shield.

My own spiritual belief system involves constantly checking in to see whether what I am doing, saying or thinking is real or an illusion. It means I'm always striving to be open to change a long-held belief by paying careful attention to where I'm getting my information.

And it's likely to keep me busy for the rest of my life.

Snowed In

I have never outgrown my love of snow. I feel the same wonder and delight today that I did as a child, watching it fall and muffle the sounds of a noisy world.

I know few share my love of snow, especially in a winter that's already seen more than usual. Here's something for those who do.

 

Shoveling Snow With Buddha
Billy Collins

In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over a mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.

Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
one shovelful at a time.
We toss the light powder into the clear air.
We feel the cold mist on our faces.
And with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making,
these fountain-bursts of snow.

This is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
I say, but he is too busy to hear me.

He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were the purpose of existence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.

All morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside his generous pocket of silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then, I hear him speak.

After this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?

Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck.
and our boots stand dripping by the door.

Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes
and leaning for a moment on his shovel
before he drives the thin blade again
deep into the glittering white snow.

And Now, A Word From Our Sponsors...

I guess I’m not done yet with this topic of the Corporate States of America.

As we move corporate political donations from behind the (thin) curtain that maintained an appearance of fair play (if not the reality), what might we look forward to? Brand placements in political ads – “Vote No on Issue 1, brought to you by Buy N Large” (nods to WALL-E and my son)? How about in the chambers of Congress?  Whole state delegations could compete for sponsorship dollars! Imagine Congressional seats decked out with decals, a la NASCAR (thanks, Stan!). And why stop at the Halls of Congress? There’s a whole White House to conquer!

Yep – we’ll finally get this country running like a well-oiled machine. Of course, not everyone is up to the task of being a worthy denizen, but I’m sure our corporate-led government will find ways to maximize profits through strategic outsourcing, “rightsizing” and other corporate efficiency programs. Imagine – an entire nation in transition! Generous outplacement and philanthropic programs will handle the deserving hard cases; religious and other not-for-profit organizations can manage the rest.

<irony off>

We’re at another moment in U.S. history where greed and righteous indignation are tearing us apart. We have tone-deaf bankers who can’t understand why million dollar bonuses are morally and ethically wrong; legislators and political parties who can think no further than the next election cycle; and strident media voices stirring up populist anger to accept no negotiation or compromise on any issue. Differences of opinion become chasms no one is willing or able to bridge. And now the highest court in the land has ruled it’s acceptable to give the largest “haves” in our country the unlimited ability to buy the power they seek.

What price victory? In the words of one of our country’s original sponsors:

"Much indeed to be regretted, party disputes are now carried to such a length, and truth is so enveloped in mist and false representation, that it is extremely difficult to know through what channel to seek it. This difficulty to one who is of no party, and whose sole wish is to pursue with undeviating steps a path which would lead this country to respectability, wealth, and happiness, is exceedingly to be lamented. But such, for wise purposes, it is presumed, is the turbulence of human passions in party disputes, when victory more than truth is the palm contended for." -- George Washington, in a letter to Timothy Pickering, July 27, 1795

The Best That Money Can Buy

Coming on the heels of dire warnings that a 41st Republican Senator would most certainly derail health care reform, the Supreme Court -- acting against 100 years of precedent –- ruled that the government cannot ban political spending by corporations in candidate elections.

As I posited on Facebook, “does anyone else wonder, with yesterday's Supreme Court ruling granting corporations First Amendment Rights, whether we've officially ceded the US government to corporate interests?”

It’s impossible to predict how this will play out but no one doubts it will create major political consequences.  Almost certainly, we’ll be in for a slug fest of attack ads from outside interest groups at a level far beyond what we’ve seen before.

I’m having trouble understanding how ordinary citizens benefit from this ruling. While I can’t see many companies rushing to directly finance campaign ads because of public relations concerns, I can see a steep increase in activity by industry groups, funded by these very companies.  And it’s not at all unrealistic to envision a future where lobbyists essentially hold legislators hostage by giving them a glimpse of what they have in store for them should they vote against the corporate interest.

I don’t believe corporations are evil. I worked for one for most of my adult life. That said, what’s in the best interest of the corporation is not always what’s in the best interest of the people. Money has, does and always will talk –- but until yesterday’s ruling, there was at least a semblance of government of, by and for the people.  

Are we approaching a time when citizens must band together and incorporate in order to be heard and have influence with their elected representatives?

"Everything will be okay in the end.  If it's not okay, it's not the end." -- Unknown

Reading those words this morning was the equivalent of stopping and taking a deep breath. And reminding myself that the media and blogosphere feed on all the “ain’t it awful” drama. I can choose to get caught up in their chatter or -- pay attention to other things going on in the world around me.

I think I’m going to spend some time on those other things.