​The road to comfort
 
One of the Ted Talks I listened to while at the gym this morning was “How to overcome our biases? Walk boldly toward them” by  Vernā Myers.  In this talk, which was posted in 2014 and to which I have previously listened, I was reminded that discomfort always precedes comfort when opening ourselves to identifying and correcting our biases.   In fact, my experience is that that in all areas of potential spiritual growth I must first face my discomfort.  As with everyone I know I do not like to experience discomfort.  When I am uncomfortable my palms become sweaty, I may be light headed, and I feel very distant from others. Perhaps the discomfort is often related to my core insecurity about my humanness; my core belief that I am not enough at some level. Although it sounds silly if I write it or say  that I am not enough if I am as human as others, I must, at some level, fear or believe this lie.  
 
As a woman of color, Vernā Myers is concerned about biases related to race, but she is clear that she is also talking about a wide range of biases.
 
Goodness knows that daily I uncover one more lies or one more layers of lies about such socially constructed issues as race.  Yet, as Ms. Myers points out, we also learn lies based on such factors as gender. She talks about discovering that the strongly feminist woman she has been for a very long time was more comfortable when the pilot  of the plane in which she was traveling during a turbulent area was male.   This very same woman who advocated for, cheered for and championed woman who wanted to be pilots had learned, starting from an early age, that males are more trustworthy or competent as pilots.  After all, the books she read, the photos she saw and the movies she watched showed male pilots perservering as pilots, especially when conditions were less than ideal.
 
Many years ago, when a member of the racial justice committee at the YMCA, I was reminded that our job was first to accept that we were all – no matter our color or background – racist.  Our initial challenge as members of this committee was to open the book of internal memories to reveal to ourselves and other members of the committee the entries we had started making in this book about racism as very young child. Among the entries in my book was using learned racism to attempt to shift blame onto my friend which mother found out something our four or five-year-old minds had decided to explore – making and smoking grass cigarettes. Really!
 
Lately I have been thinking a lot about such subjects as the number of murders on the streets of the cities of the United States, the ongoing call for longer prison sentences for drug dealers and others who violate laws, the use of violence by law enforcement officials, and related subjects. I am acutely aware that all of these related topics force me to  dig deep enough to uncover yet another layer of prejudice/biases about various groups of people and potential ways to address these issues.   Being that honest with myself is not an easy task and, yet, I know that I must earn the right to an opinion by making an honest effort to identify more of these biases.  
 
I will remind myself that I do not need to be frightened of uncovering another layer of my humanness – another layer of how I learn “truths.”    After all, as I was just reminding someone today, everyone knows and must  certainly accept that humanness is synonymous with biases.  
 
This then is the challenge to myself – to remember that challenge can lead to honestly which can lead to openness which can lead to peace which can lead to growth which can lead to acceptance of each other which can lead to cooperation with each other as brothers and sisters.  The end result is a reduction in violence. It has to start with me opening my book of learned biases and not with critiquing everyone else.  I will also remind myself that I am not fragile and will not die of the discomfort.  On the other hand, if I run from the discomfort a part of me does die.
 
Written December 29, 2016
 

​Friendship – The gift
 
Yesterday I was with some men and women who are learning to live without succumbing to the acute seduction of additive drugs.  I have recently resumed volunteering at this treatment center one day a week.  While I was living in another state for two years I had missed being with the staff and clients of this healing space.  This center was started by two friends of mine, both of whom are now deceased.  Fortunately, both had found their way to recovery programs many years ago and, once on a healing path, gave 200% of themselves to helping others caught in the grip of addictive substances and other behaviors.   I met both of these men shortly after I began to work at a community mental  health center in Wheeling, West Virginia.  I had moved to the area to be closer to my young son. It was at this center that I began a long and ongoing relationship as a student and a friend.  I have been blessed in my life journey with a number of teachers. These men taught me not only about addiction, but about courage, humility and love.   Although I had had a lot of formal education and onsite training prior to arriving to this particular intersection in my life, I had and have much to learn.  I may need to live to be as old as Methuselah to learn as much as these two men knew about courage and humility. Perhaps older than Methuselah’s  969 years.
 
Every time I spend time with men and women in recovery I am humbled. So it was yesterday that I was humbled by the depth of love of two of the clients whose friend E had died a few days ago as a direct result of this illness of addiction.  Not surprisingly this was not the first time that either of these men or others at the treatment center including staff had to face the fact that addiction is always a life-threatening illness.  Sometimes it kills quickly. Sometimes it takes longer but if left untreated it always kills.  Some of the staff felt as if they could not face attending another funeral or even stopping by the funeral home.  This young man who had just died had formerly been a client at this center and had gained the love and respect of the staff as well as others.
 
For many of us who have the courage to love, grief arrives like the strongest, largest tackle during a football game.  Wham! It sucks the breath out of one.  Sometimes after a tackle one recovers. When one loses a close friend one never completely recover.  In the beginning one is sure that one cannot live with the deep pain.  If one has a history of any sort of addiction (work, drugs, sex, money, power, anger or something else which can temporarily numb one) the first thought when hit with such pain is to get numb as quickly as possible.  If the way of getting numb is the use of addictive drugs then, despite the fact that the pain is a direct result of addiction, one has an overwhelming urge to use that drug.  To some who have a less life threatening way of avoiding the pain, this may seem self-centered and incomprehensible.    Yet, it makes perfect sense to me. That does not mean I recommend it.  To use is insane. At the same time it is no more insane than me thinking that if I cleaned, chopped wood (when I lived in the country), did some other physical labor, cooked for the family of the deceased one (enough to feed 100 people for 100 days if need be to avoid the pain) I can avoid pain for any amount of time.
 
There is no activity and no drug which can allow one to completely avoid the pain.  The friend is gone and a part of one is permanently gone.
 
The friends of this deceased man talked about the fact that even in his active addiction he was a kind, giving person.   
 
Instead of giving in to the urge to numb themselves out, these two men did as the 12-step program recommends.  They called people and went to meetings. They talked, cried, talked, went to more meetings, talked, cried and one step at a time discovered:
 
·      One can, with support, face pain.
·      Allowing passionate grieving gives one strength rather than weakening one.
·      Our decisions affect, not just us,  but everyone in our circle of love and circle of influence.
 
Again I was and am the student.  I was reminded that:
 
·       They had learned a lot. 
·      We are all more than the labels of our conditions, illness, particular behaviors, characteristics or roles.
·      The answer to the loss of a loved one is to love more even if it feels too painful.
·      The principles of the 12-step program can work for all of us no matter what our strengths and weaknesses.
·      I am blessed to be with such strong, courageous, loving people as I find at this treatment program.
·      Friendship is always a gift.  
·      Honoring someone who has died as a result of an illness may mean honoring the truth that we all have what the friend who died felt he or she did not have.
 
 
Written December 28, 2016
 

​School Bells – Sam and Paul evaluate the current affairs classes
 
It has been an especially busy year for my adopted nephew and niece, Sam and Paul.  I have seen little of them at the house although I do see them in class once a week  and  when we eat as a family once or twice a week. I am teaching the current affairs class for both Sam’s first grade class and Paul’s eight grade class.  I am constantly reminded that young people want to learn, have opinions, and want to be an active part of the family and larger community.
 
Today we have scheduled a baking day and, while doing that, Sam and Paul are going to let me know what they think about the respective current affairs class.  As always I am eager to hear what they have to say.
 
I have gotten all the ingredients, the bowls for mixing and the cookie baking sheets ready. I have also made hot chocolate from scratch which is staying warm on the stove.
 
I look across the yard and see that they have just left their house and are on the way over.
 
Me: Good morning.  I have missed our cookie baking time.  Hopefully we can get about 12 or more dozen made today so that there are plenty for the classes when we start back up next week.
 
Sam:  Hi Uncle Jim.  Do I smell hot chocolate?
 
Me:  You sure do.   Let’s heat the cups in the microwave. I will do that while you and Paul help each other put on your aprons.
 
Paul:  Good morning Uncle Jim.  We had a really good time at grandma and grandpa’s. They were really happy to see us.
 
Me: How are they?
 
Sam: They look and act older Uncle Jim but they were really happy to see us. Grandma had been cooking for days.
 
Paul:  Grandpa made us toys which was nice, but they are not toys we play with now.
 
Sam: They act as if we are still little.  Do all old people think grandkids never grow up?
 
Me:  I suppose Sam that it is especially difficult when grandparents or others do not see you very often.  Do mamma and Pop Pop do better since they live close and see you regularly.
 
Paul: Yeah. They do, I guess. I had not thought about that.
 
Me:  Here is your hot chocolate.  Marshmallows?
 
Paul and Sam:  Yes please!
 
Me:  Here they are.   How shall we do this?  We can trade off but what job do you want me to do?
 
Sam:  I want to measure and put stuff in the bowl.
 
Paul: I think I am strong enough to stir now Uncle Jim.
 
Me: I guess that leaves me reading the recipe. I did turn on the oven and will be in charge of taking out the hot trays of cookies. When they are cool we will package them for the freezer.
 
While we are mixing up the dough I am eager to hear what you both think of the class so far.
 
Sam: What is first Uncle Jim?
 
Me.  Six cups of flour in the shifter.
 
Sam: Oops. I made mess already.
 
Me:  That is fine. We will clean up when we are done.
 
Soon Sam has all the dry ingredients sifted and is ready to start on the other ingredients.  We have done this a lot in the past.
 
Me: What do you like or not like about the class?
 
Paul:  Well, Uncle Jim it does not seem much different than what you, my parents, Sam and I have always done. We have always talked about all kinds of things. 
 
Sam: Yes, Uncle Jim you have always acted as if what we think is important as what you, mom and dad think.  In our class I think the others were not used to that.
 
Paul: Yes, I agree Sam. I think the same thing is true in our class.
 
Sam: At first it did not seem as if families were talking a lot between classes.
 
Paul: I noticed the same thing in our class.   I thought all families always talked about issues.
 
Sam:   When I first told my classmates that we were only allowed an hour of television a day and did not have a television or computer in our rooms they felt sorry for me. Some of the kids are now saying that they do not have much time for television or games, but they play a lot of family games.
 
Me: Wow! You think that this is partly related to what we are doing in class and the homework assignment.
 
Paul: Maybe Uncle Jim.  Seems like everyone has a lot more to say in class.
 
Me:  Need me to take over stirring for a bit Paul?
 
Paul: Yes, Uncle Jim.  My arm is tired.
 
Me:  I like that we can work as a team and can trade off jobs.
 
Paul:  I like that too Uncle Jim.
 
Me:  Okay, let’s lightly grease the cookie sheets.  
 
Paul: I can do that.
 
Sam: Can I start dropping  a spoon full of cookie dough on the greased sheet Uncle Jim.
 
Me: That is great Sam.  Do you want to do that also Paul.
 
Paul:  I like to make little balls with this Sam.
 
Sam: Oh yes!  That is more fun.
 
Me: What else do you like about the class?
 
Paul:  I like that if someone has something else to talk about you never say no but somehow we end up on the topic most of the time.  How is that Uncle Jim?
 
Me: I think that when I am listening I can see how different issues are connected or what I learn in one situation can be applied in another one.
 
Sam: I like that you never make me feel dumb Uncle Jim.
 
Paul: Some of the kids in my class have said the same thing Uncle Jim.
 
Me:  Let me put these sheets in the oven.   Sam please set the timer for 10 minutes. We can adjust if we need to.
 
Sam:  Okay Uncle Jim
 
Paul:  Maybe when we go back we could ask each family to come up with three or four topics they would like to discuss and then have the class discuss.
 
Me: Great idea Paul.  
 
We take the first three trays out of the oven and then put in three more.  
 
We go on to talk about what they liked about Christmas this year. 
 
It is not long before we have 12 dozen cookies baked and packaged.
 
Me: Oh dear.  I promised your folks you will be home by 3:00.  I will clean up and put the cookies in the freezer.  I hope we can do this or something else again before it is time to go back to school.
 
Sam:  Will you make waffles one day Uncle Jim?
 
Me:  I sure will Sam.  Any other requests.
 
Paul: We could make orange juice.
 
Me: We sure could.  
 
Sam:  See you later.
 
Paul:  Thanks Uncle Jim
 
 
Written December 27, 2016
 

​Grandma says – “All things come to those who wait.”
 
I was shocked the other day when someone said that they envied me my ability to be patient.   I said to myself, “How could this person possibly not know how truly inpatient I am? Perhaps it is simply the fact that I, at 76 years old, seem to be patient.  After all, I am reminded daily or sometimes minute-by-minute that I am truly powerless over other people, places and things.
 
As a child, I would wait to see if Santa had heeded my plea for a particular item to be placed under the Christmas tree.  One year, I got the guitar I longed for. My parents had found a used one which, to me, was the best guitar in the whole world.  Sadly, they forget to order up a modicum of talent or at least an “ear.”   Still, for a time I carried around that guitar as I moved from place to place.  
 
Most of my childhood, when not doing farm chores or being my father’s goffer on his latest project, was spent praying to be old enough to leave home and have a life of my own.  Now, as any older person will confirm, time sprints daily getting very close to the finish line.  Still, there is a part of me which often wants to hasten time or to dictate to the God of my understanding what he, she or it should be doing.  At other times, I am being mentored by Job and asking why I am not getting what I want and deserve.  At such times, I quickly add up the “points” I have earned and impatiently wait for the newest metaphor for that guitar.  This could be anything from a payment from a client arriving, the health of a loved one being restored, or even something as simple as the fumes in the gas tank carrying me to the next gas station. Of course, in the latter case I have waited until the last possible moment to get gas because I was looking for the most convenient gas station which also had the cheapest gas and a decent bathroom.   Then there are the times I pray for the recovery of those loved ones who struggle with addiction or the arrival of the perfect medication to treat the mental illness of a loved one.   
 
Not infrequently, after having convinced myself that I have both been patient and am open to an outcome which looks nothing like that for which I have been praying, I hear myself repeating the oft spoken admonition of Ann Lamott. “God would it have been too much skin off your nose to heal this person or protect my child, or … “
 
I reluctantly - and occasionally gratefully - have been able to accept that what I got was exactly what I needed.  Of course, frequently this acceptance is a direct result of the ability to look back 10, 20, 30 or even 70 years and follow the yellow brick road to Kansas.  
 
What I prayed for may be very different than what I get and yet it is exactly “the right outcome” in terms of my spiritual growth.
 
My friend Becky frequently writes about the opportunities which challenges present.   It is tempting to curse God, fate, or simply my luck when I am lacking the ability to see how “all things come to those who wait” or play out in life and the life of those I love.
 
It is tempting for this human to believe that it is my job to determine the outcome or to state the outcome of a situation or event.  
 
Again, and again, I must accept that each nanosecond of my life has brought events which, when connected to each other, bring me all that I spiritually and even emotionally treasure.   
 
 Even as a relatively young woman Grandma Fannie “knew” this while it has taken me much longer to accept it.  I don’t even know whether accepting and knowing it are the same. I do know that, once again, I must bow down to the wisdom of Grandma Fannie:  “All things come to those who wait.”
 
Written December 26, 2016
 

​Sunday Musings – Christmas 2016
 
Christmas is a quiet season for me.  Since I am past the age of having young children and do not have grandchildren or live close to nieces and nephews there is no one for whom I need to stay up late assembling gifts which seemed like a good idea when purchased or who drag me out of bed after only a modicum of sleep to see what Santa has brought.   
 
I love the fact that this is the season of hearing from friends.  I even love those generic letters bringing all the latest news of children, spouses, parents, and others.   Some of those letters remind me that I obviously have sat on my duff all year while others devoted 23 hours a day working for peace, feeding the hungry, building new Habitat homes, digging sewer systems in some remote area, reading books of some import on a daily basis, and writing three new books while raising five grandchildren and restoring a house which was featured in the Architectural Digest.  I love and admire these people even if they do make me feel as if the only possible moral action is for me to kill myself and to quit taking up space and breathing air which could be used by someone with a tiny bit of ambition to improve the world.
 
Although I enjoy giving gifts all year long the thought of shopping for just the right gift at this time of the year for people who want or need nothing feeds my thought of suicide.  Yesterday I thought that perhaps I “should” pick up a little hostess gift to take to dinner last night, but I ended up visiting with the nose ring young man at the clothing store where I purchase my grown-up clothes. We had quite a pleasant conversation about pursuing one’s passion and not focusing on making more money than one needs for the basics.  Oh, well, the hostess had to make due with a small loaf of the cranberry, orange nut bread I made the other day.
 
Christmas Eve service at the Cathedral included many Christmas Hymns which brought a smile to my heart as long as I listened to the tune and not the words.  I did momentarily think about the morphing of the ministry of that irresponsible carpenter into a highly ritualistic, exclusionary club which featured rich fabric, exquisite pieces of stain glass, and priceless paintings. I took notice of the nearly full page of the program devoted to detailing who was welcome at the table for the celebration of Holy Communion.  It seems as a non-Catholic I was not one of the chosen.  I was pleased that there were a variety of people in terms of age and that the sea of whiteness was occasionally interspersed with a person of color.
 
I had to remind myself that I was there to repair my soul and not critique that of others.   Well, actually I had to remind myself about every 30 seconds.  Still I did manage to quiet in my mind intermittently enough to continue the rather long gratitude list which I had started following joining friends for dinner at their house.
 
Now, the table is set for a simple meal later this afternoon.  I have communicated with various family members and friends via text, email and snail mail.  
 
Some friends are celebrating Chanukah or Hanukah - commemorating the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem at the time of the Maccabean Revolt against the Seleuid Empire.
 
Many others will be celebrating the most holy of holy celebrations in many parts of the United States - the game of football in which boys of various ages seems to delight in playing with a little brown ball so they can affectionately wrestle with each other.  (Admittedly, many friends have told me that I am missing the point of the game.)  It does seem as if the more the congregants shout out orders for action the more the boys get to wrestle. 
 
As millions of people starve, others of us will finish a meal while exclaiming that we ate much too much.
 
Tons of wrapping paper, paper plates and Styrofoam cups will be disposed of as well the containers in which various refreshments arrived; leftovers will be sent home with the single guests and all will be restored to the former state.
 
Merry Christmas.  Happy Hanukah. Hail to the footballers.  
 
Written December 25, 2016
 

​Grandma says: “If you don’t have something good to say do not say anything.”
 
I am at that age where the best gifts are those whose shelf life is very brief.  Heathy food, gift cards to my favorite coffee place or, of course, Amazon are always appreciated, but not expected or needed.  A friend of mine told her college son what she wanted was a commitment for him to make a phone call on a more regular basis – just to check in and let her hear his voice.  
 
There is one gift which I wish Santa would hand deliver.  I would like a Grandma implant. This Grandma Implant would be triggered by thoughts which are better left unsaid.  As soon as a negative thought about a person or an event began to be birthed the Grandma implant would activate a switch which would shut down all mouth and finger actions.   I then would not be able use my mouth or fingers until the appropriate – meaning positive -  wise grandma words were in charge of my behavior.
 
One of Grandma Fannie’s most frequent reminders was “If you don’t have something good to say do not say anything.”  The wisdom of this advice is, hopefully, to all of us, very evident.  How often has many of us – certainly me –  told someone something that “they needed to hear” only to wish when the kind/sane part of one’s brain returned from vacation that one had heeded Grandma’s advice.  It is not that one uttered a lie. It is that the words one said or typed were not coming from the heart.  The goal of uttering them was about helping the other person or the relationship.  The goal was to let the person know that they are responsible for one’s personal existential angst or the state of affairs in the community/country/world.
 
I am not hoping for a  Grandma Implant that would transform one into one of those overly passionate, sweet, cheery wait persons one sometimes has the misfortune of getting at 7:00 a.m. – one of those wait persons that one wants to duct tape and sit on for as long as it takes to remind them of all that sucks in the world today.   That would be terrible and might result in suicide.  One could not stand to live another minute with oneself.     No, the goal would be to honor the feeling and accept it for just what it is – a feeling which has somehow decided to visit. Perhaps one is in the throes of HALT – Hunger, Angry, Lonely, Tired.  Perhaps one has made a choice to turn down some invitations to holiday gatherings and is now feeling all alone and as if no one cares. One might be tempted to believe these feelings and/or tell oneself that one is all alone because no one loves one. At that moment, the fact that one turned down numerous invitations to dinner is immaterial.  One might tell oneself that they just felt sorry for one and did not really want one there.  At that moment one is capable of believing the lies that a part of the brain is telling one. Once one buys the lies the mouth and/or the fingers spring into attack mode.
 
Another time one might be desperate to blame someone else for the fact that one procrastinated and did not complete some task. 
 
Then there is the time when one needs to convince oneself that one would never be capable of the behavior of some low-life person who deserves whatever they get.  At that moment, one’s self-righteous button is turned all the way up to high.
 
Knowing that Grandma’s advice has proven itself over and over again does not ensure that one will heed it before one opens one mouth or allows the flying fingers expert to produce the masterpiece of “telling it like it is”.
 
I am well aware that I had previously written to Santa saying that all I wanted and, in fact, needed was a partner who is physically irresistible, emotionally, and spiritually healthy, available, self-supporting and loves to do all the home chores.  Yes, I know that I promised that I would never in this life journey ask for anything else, but now I am having second thoughts.  I really, really need the Grandmas Says implant. Of course, if Santa wanted to give me the perfect partner, the Grandma Implant and throw in world peace as a bonus I would not complain unless, of course, ….
 
Perhaps just in case the all the Grandma Says implants have gone to political candidates I could do as I so often advise others when they are feeling as if they need to say something negative to another – write a gratitude list thus forcing my brain to pretend as if it has taken up residence in a reasonably healthy head.  I could also look at the photo of Grandma Fannie who is smiling at my humanness.  Perhaps …
 
Thanks, Santa.
 
 
Written December 23, 2016
 

​Christmas as metaphor
 
It is Saturday and it is also the day before Christmas – the day that Christians choose to celebrate the birth of a man who has come to symbolize the best of who we are within the context of our humanness.  
 
I want to, once again pay tribute to Krista Tibbett and the person with whom she had a conversation on December 22, 2016, Eugene Peterson.  Pastor Peterson “served as pastor for 29 years. He is the author of 30 books, including Answering God: The Psalms as Tools for Prayer, The pastor; A Memoir, and The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language.”   (transcript of this conversation)
 
Mr. Peterson reminds the listener or reader of the role of metaphor and poetry in our journey of learning to be present in a most magical way.  He says: “All the prophets were poets. And if you don’t know that, you try to literalize everything and make shambles out of it. A metaphor is really remarkable kind of formation, because it both means what it says and what it doesn’t say.”
 
Once again I am invited to stop and attend to what I have often referred to in these writings - the negative or seemingly empty space.  In art, it is the space which holds the object or drawing.  In music, it is the space between the notes.  As Mr. Peterson reminds us in poetry it Is what is not said.  The negative space or what is not spoken, written, drawn or played gives meaning to what is spoken, written, drawn, or played.
 
Often, it seems, religious texts are read or used as absolutes. Absolutes have no negative space – no space or notes to be filled in.  As such, they are always exclusionary.
 
Mr. Peterson suggests:
 
“Poets tell us what our eyes, blurred with too much gawking, and our ears, dulled with too much chatter, miss around and within us. Poets use words to drag us into the depth of reality itself.”
 
Consider the contrast, as Ms. Tippett points out, between a traditional translation of the opening of Psalm 22 and Mr. Peterson’s translation:
 
“MS. TIPPETT: In the New Revised Version of the Bible that many of us read in church, Psalm 22, a cry of anguish from King David, begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?”
In Eugene Peterson’s translation, The Message he writes:
“God, God . . . my God!
Why did you dump me?
miles from nowhere?
Doubled up with pain, I call to God
all the day long. No answer. Nothing.
I keep at it all night, tossing and turning.”
 
The anguish of the minutes and the hours is held for all to experience between the words. The words which are there offer no rationale and no comfort. The poem is filled with despair and rage.   One sees and hears the cursing of God by King David.  One is forced to inject one’s own body into that exhausted form of King David doubled up with pain.  The poem though what it does not say forces one to face one’s own pain. It is not King David. It is us. The poem affirms our pain. Someone notices.
 
All religions seem to paint the ridiculous of this human journey - the senselessness of this existence. Religion is the quest to make sense out of the pain and suffering.  All, if we listen, provide the space for peace – the space to rest. 
 
All religion is a metaphor for what cannot be uttered; for what cannot be explained; for what is contained outside of the container.
 
Christmas is a metaphor
 
It is christmas.
 
Yes, a small c
 
A call for
 
Allah
 
Krishna
 
Shiva
 
Vishnu
 
Elohim
 
Buddha
 
Jehovah
 
Yahweh
 
Hu
 
All wise one
 
All powerful one
 
Ever present one
 
Christmas is a metaphor
 
For the hope, which is contained in all religions
 
Christmas is a metaphor for all the rituals of all religions
 
just as those rituals are metaphors for Christians.
 
The Christ child arrives naked, homeless, unbidden.
 
Thus, begins a poem with all the spaces left blank
 
A beginning which contains no ending.
 
Joyful, joyful we adore thee
 
Silent night, holy night
 
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
 
Oh come ye, oh come ye
 
More nuclear bombs called for by some.
 
Dumped in a manger
 
Awaiting the cross
 
We gather at the river
 
The beautiful, the beautiful river
 
The river of life awaits
 
between the dashes
 
Christmas is a metaphor
 
Of the hope which intersects our anguish cries.
 
We reach out a hand towards Allah only to discover
 
The hand of one we have called enemy
 
Christmas is a metaphor.
 
Between the lines we notice all that is not.
 
All that can be.
 
Christmas is a metaphor
 
For the nothingness which is everything.
 
Christmas
 
 
Written December 24, 2016
 

​School Bells – Current Affairs – Grade 1 – Week 19
Making others happy
 
First graders are developmentally at that age when, given a healthy, affirming home environment and no neurological conditions, they begin to internalize a positive sense of self.  This then allows them to begin the process of opening up to think of the needs of others.  The first-grade class with whom I have been meeting all semester are, I think, exceptional in their ability to develop emotionally and intellectually.  I am sure that this is partly just luck but also due to the fact that they have exceptionally healthy parents. In class their positive, can do, kind attitudes have become the norm to which new kids are drawn.
 
Their assignment this week was very to talk with their families about one way to make someone else feel good.   My assignment was to make and bring cookies which I have done.
 
I hear them coming now.
 
Me: Good morning young scholars!
 
Class:  Good morning Mr. Jim. Cookies! Cookies! 
 
Me:  Yes, I have cookies. Sue, will you and Tommy hand them out?
 
(Sue comes up in wheelchair to get them and then begins to hand the packages one by one to Tommy who gives them to each of the other students.)
 
I am eager to hear your suggestions for making someone else happy.
 
Steve:  In our family we have each been saving money every week to adopt a family whom our pastor said needed help.  We then give the money to the pastor who tells them it is from a family in the church but does not tell them who it came from.  I have to put in a quarter every week from my allowance.  I had $13.00.   We will also help to deliver meals Christmas Eve.
 
Me: That is great Steve!  Why is it important to give cash and to not let the family know who it came from?
 
Steve:  My mom says that the family gets to buy what they want and need and they do not have to feel like they owe us something.
 
Me:  That is very wise and kind of you and your family Steve.
 
Sue:  My family and I know what it is like to be in the hospital at the holiday. When I was young I had to be in the hospital at Christmas time. Even though my family was there I got lonely. There were some kids who did not have anyone to visit.   We talked to the hospital and each one in our family is going to spend time with one of the kids every day for the next two weeks and then on the weekends for a long as they are in the hospital. The nurse says that when the kids see me in my wheelchair and happy it makes them feel good.
 
Me:  I bet it does. That is wonderful!
 
Tara:  My grandma is in a place. I forget what you call it.
 
Me: A nursing home?
 
Tara:  Yes. Thank you.  I go to see her but she treats me like I am a little girl and wants me to sit in her lap while she sings to me.  I told her I am a big girl now.  My daddy said that it makes her happy when I sit in her lap.  She is not like she used to be. I am going to sit in her lap and be her little Tara if that makes her happy.
 
Me: That is wonderful Tara!  I am very impressed by how kind that is.
 
Ahmes:  Our neighbor was hurt in the war.  He is in bed all the time.  He likes it when I visit and play hearts with him.  He and I also have been watching Christmas movies.  It makes me happy when he is happy.  Is it wrong for me to get be happy when I am trying to make someone else happy?
 
Me: Ahmes, I think it should always makes us happy to help someone else be happy. I think it is wonderful that you are doing that.
 
Tommy:  My grandpa wanted me to go see grandma who is buried in the ground. She died last year.   I did not want to do that but we talked about how grandpa must feel. They were old and had been with each other a long time.   I was being selfish.  I have been going with grandpa to visit grandma’s grave every day.  I still do not like it but I like that it makes grandpa happy.
 
Me: That is really nice of you Tommy.  
 
Sofia: My cousin, Tony, has been really mean to me and my stuff when he visits. I told him I hated him.  My mom and dad talked about the fact that his sister died and his parents are sad all the time.   Tony thinks they are mad at him.  I would hate it if my brother died and my parents acted like I was not there.  Maybe I would get mad.  Now when he comes over I am going to put my one really favorite doll in my parent’s room and if Tony need to be mad at my stuff I know it is because he is sad and misses playing with his parents and sister.
 
Me:  Sofia, that is so grown up and kind of you.   I am so impressed.  I hope that Tony begins to talk with you about why he is so angry and sad.
 
Susie:  The mean old lady next door is still mean.  My parents told me her son and daughter were both killed in the war. They said she was not mean before then.  I have been taking her a card I make every day.  Yesterday she asked me to come in and have cookies and milk.  I was scared and said I had to ask my mom. Mom said it was okay.  I was still scared but mom thinks it made her happy for the first time in a long time.
 
Me: It sounds like she was really sad. It would be terrible to have two of your children die.
 
Susie:  Yes. I thought about my mom and dad or brother dying.
 
Me: Very good.
 
Sam: We go to the soup kitchen all year long Uncle Jim. Now we are going twice a week.  Last week, I also took some of the cookies you, I, and Paul made. We wrapped them and put a bow on them.  Some of the people seemed happy.
 
Me: I think that they were very happy, Sam.  The fact that you made them seemed to make them very special.
 
Goodness, time is nearly up.  Ahmes and Sam will you hand out more cookies?
 
Ahmes and Sam: Yes.
 
Me: I hope you all have a very happy holiday and a happy new year. I will see you again in 2017.  I am so proud of all of you for thinking of others.
 
Ring!  Ring!  Ring!
 
Happy new year Mr. Jim!
 
Written December 22, 2016
 

​School Bells – Current Affairs – Grade 8 –Week 19
Intentional spiritual living
 
This is the last week I will meet with the students until the new year.  The semester with these young seekers has, like all good things, gone really fast.   The continue to help me open to new possibilities in all areas of thoughts.  The assignment for this week was for us all to discuss with our respective families whether it is important to set daily spiritual goals and, if so, what they might be. Of course, part of their assignment to me was to bring holiday cookies. I have stuck with the chocolate chip cookies because I already know that the ingredients are safe for everyone in the class.
 
It is time for class. They are entering now.
 
Me: Good morning class.
 
Class:  Good morning Mr. Jim.  Cookies!
 
Me:  Yes.  Here are the cookies.  Paul and Will, please hand them out.
 
They do so and it only takes a moment for the to inhale the cookies.
 
Class: Thanks Mr. Jim
 
Me:  I am eager to hear what you and your families decided about the importance of spiritual goals and what such goals might be.
 
Abdul:  In our family daily prayer is very important, but I never think about specific spiritual goals.   Everyone in the family said it was easy to just say the prayers without thinking about what they meant for today. We know we want to serve Allah but as soon as I say my prayers, I might tell my little sister to quit bothering me.  Mom said that sometimes dad wants to visit and she says she is too busy.  Dad said that he does not always offer to help with evening house chores.  I guess spiritual in our family is more than saying prayers.
 
Me:  Thanks Abdul.  I think that paying more attention to each other is very spiritual.
 
Susie:  In our family we celebrate Christmas and sometimes we go to church with our grandparents but we do not think of ourselves as spiritual.  We noticed that we always have time for saying what we do not like or what we don’t have but we do not say what we are grateful for or how lucky we are to have such a nice home and a heathy family.  We agreed that we would write down one thing every day for which we are grateful.  We also decided we have to share that with every family member in person or by text message.
 
Me:  So far it sounds as if spiritual has to do with how we are treating each other.
 
Tom:  In our family we go to church a lot and Christmas is about the birth of Jesus.  Jesus talked about love a lot. We decided that we want to read part of this section of the New Testament every night at dinner and then talk about how we are doing with living it:
1 Corinthians 13:4-8New International Version (NIV)
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
 
Last night we talked about what it means when it says love is patient.
 
Me:  That is great Tom. Thanks for sharing.  Many religions have a similar teaching.
Amena:  For our family, if Allah is not present or if our love of Allah is not present, then nothing is any good.  My parents say that we must make our bed with love. We must do the dishes with love.  Love also means we must be grateful.  We could agree with what Tom read.
 
Ann:  In our family we have a lot. All of us go once a month to serve food at Catholic Charities and then stay to visit with many of the homeless people.  My mom says that we are no different than the homeless. She says that we must keep making sure that we are humble.  She worries that we will think we are better because we have so much.
 
Paul:  If one has an Uncle Jim and he lives next store, spiritual means being intentional about what we do and being intentional about being who we say we want to be.
 
Me:  Thanks Paul.   You make it sound as if we can be perfect at living this way.
 
Paul:  Oh no! We are not perfect at doing this but you tell us if we keep asking the questions we will get better at living this way.
 
Me:  That is correct Paul. Thanks for clarifying that.
 
Will: In our family, my grandmother says, “Child, you think God done took a vacation and does not know that you are not doing your chores or are being mean to your sister or whatever?”  When we were talking about our homework Grandma said that “Nothing is worth nothing if we are not putting God first.”  We know that Martin Luther King, Jr. was just a man but he tried very hard to live his beliefs.  We have a large photograph of him in the kitchen and every morning Grandma loves on all of us and then she looks at the picture of Jesus and says, “Martin we just keep takin one more step.”  
 
Me:  That is wonderful.   Perhaps we could invite your grandmother to come talk about spirituality sometime.
 
Will: I don’t know if she would do that Mr. Jim.
 
Me:  Perhaps I will have to ask her if it is okay with you Will.  
 
Will:  Okay Mr. Jim
 
John:  Our family has started using the family meeting to ask how we are doing with our purpose as a family.  We then talk more about why we are a family.
 
Me: That is great. I am glad that you are continuing to have family meetings.
 
I am again so impressed with all of you and your families.  I think all of you are very loving, spiritual people.   I hope that all of you have a very happy and safe holiday whatever you are celebrating.
 
When we come back from break perhaps we could share our New Year’s wishes or resolutions. 
 
Susie and Ann, would you hand out the cookies and the assignment?
 
Happy New Year everyone.
 
Class:  Happy New Year Mr. Jim.
 
Ring!  Ring!  Ring!
 
 
Written December 21, 2016
 

​Tough love – co-dependence – Fierce Compassion – just mad
 
I love language although I am a novice in appreciating the richness of it.  Yet, I try to be aware of the power of words and how they are delivered. I know that as recently as yesterday I delivered a group of words said in anger. Although I think it would have been appropriate to be clear and assertive, I was, as Professor Robert Thurman says “just plain mad.”    I know that rather than accepting that I had failed to anticipate the extent to which I needed to document extensive damage done to my belongings, I foolishly expected the delivery driver and the individuals processing my damage claim to be honest and to not make the process more complicated that it needed to be. My bad.
 
I could have blamed my anger on the behavior of the company staff.  Clearly nothing they did justified my anger.   Neither was my anger a reasonable choice if I wanted to clearly communicate with the staff of this company.
 
In the conversation Mr. Thurman and Ms. Salzberg had with the host of On Being on January 1, 2015, Mr. Thurman is very clear that sometimes he is just angry. This admission was in the context of a conversation on tough love or what some Tibetan Buddhist sometimes call “fierce compassion.”. The conversation is a segment of a larger conversation about loving one’s enemy.  
 
Co-dependent is a term which has been liberally used by many of my colleagues and self-help gurus for some time.  My experience is that it is frequently used to admonish or criticize someone for not allowing a person to suffer the consequences of their behavior and when a family member, intimate acquaintance, or professional is unable or unwilling to do so, they are labeled as a co-dependent.   Often when I hear some say this, it is in a tone of voice which makes it clear the one has failed an adult test.  I seldom feel as if their accusation comes from the heart of the speaker or with any hint of compassion for how difficult it is to know the next right thing to do. The speaker who is judging the action of those they are labeling as co-dependent seems to think that throwing one’s addicted child or entitled child into the cold is natural and ultimately kind.  In fact, there may be times when it is important to set very clear and seemingly, to some, harsh limits with a loved one, a client, a student or someone else.  Yet, often when I have talked with colleagues and others about setting such limits, I am hard pressed to experience any compassion or humility.  The term fierce compassion reminds me of several important factors:
 
·      At best, one is making an educated guess about what action might be helpful with someone.
·      An action which works well with someone might not work or help another.
·      Another person cannot do anything which is worse than my most unthinking, unkind, thoughtless behavior.   I find that I am hard pressed to rank “sins.”
·      If I am truly practicing tough love or fierce compassion I need to be acutely aware that the behavior of the other person is not about me. If I want to truly give the other person respect then I have to be honest with myself about the reason I am considering new limits or other actions which might seem harsh. If I am clearly wanting to help the other person see a clearer path, my anger or judgment will not help them.
·      Just because I say something from the heart and have the purest possible intentions does not mean the other person will hear me that way or if they do hear me that way their fear or other emotions might not allow them to let them know that.
·       We humans are very fragile and very strong.
 
I like the term fierce compassion.  Others may find it lacks the “punch” of tough love.
 
When I practice tough love or fierce compassion I am taking the risk that I can make an educated guess about what might be helpful or even less harmful for another person. That is all it is – an educated guess. Sometimes, as with some limits a friend of mine set with her mother-in-law this past year, a person is able to face some sad realities and make a healthier decision.   When this mother-in-law made a healthier, but a tough, new decision, my friend helped her make the needed transition and constantly rewarded the new behavior.  My friend did not say, “I told you so. It is about time you stubborn, inconsiderate, old….”  No, my friend recognized this was a tough transition but one which sorely needed to be made.
 
Decisions which come from the heart may not always have positive outcomes, but the chances of a positive outcome are much greater. Decisions made just because a person is mad, tired or they have “had it” are not kind and are not likely to result in positive results.
 
Written December 20, 2016