Moms are tough.
I was just talking with my boyfriend the other day and saying that I think people who live in cities don't want to be close the their families. There's this isolation--I think its liberating--to being in a city where you can remain as anonymous as you want. Or maybe it was that if you want to live in a city and like the anonymity, then you don't like your family.
Anyway, sometimes I wish I lived further from my mother. I love her. Of course I love her, she's my mother. But I don't know how to make her happy, and I don't know if she knows how to make herself happy. And you have to take initiative to fix or improve your life. You have to DO something, instead of waiting. Or complaining.
In addition to those frustrations, there's holidays. Or holi-DAZE as I call them. It's July right now, and I went to lunch with my mom a few days ago, and she's talking to me about Christmas. I told my boyfriend, and he asked, "Did you tell her it's July?" Of course I didn't. I understand. She wants to plan so she won't be alone. She's afraid my sister will go with her boyfriend's family, and I'll do that same, and she'll be left twiddling her thumbs at home alone with her decorations. Sad.
Well, what incentive should she offer? Travel? That won't seem to work. Alcohol? Dunno. Open-mindedness. Loosening her grip on control of all aspects of all situations--that could work.
I am in a strange situation where I am frustrated by caring for my mother and trying to please her, talking with her and listening to her but keeping my mouth shut on the bigger points of my dissidence, and knowing I can't make her happy. It can't be me. Happiness is in-born, isn't it? You have to find a way to satisfy yourself first, right? And then other people are a bonus.
I wish my mom had interests. Or would follow through on the ideas she talks about. Recently she said she could feel a big change on the horizon. I asked her, "What?" She said, "I don't know, but its big. I can feel it coming." That's fine. My mom's intuition is pretty good. But what if it doesn't come? You can't sit and wait for your life to change around you, and hope it changes in a way you like. Disaster. It's like hands-off driving. No input into where you life will go? I know everyone gets lost and loses touch with their internal compass, but you have to be willing to break your habits and take some action to create change when you're dissatisfied.
I do know I'm not the only one here. I just don't know how to talk to my mom to make anything different or change.
[frustration]
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
The Utility of Reading
I've always been interested in disseminating useful information to many people. In high school, I wanted to start a magazine. In college, I founded a club that taught women about self-respect and independence, and the state of other women around the world. After college, I worked as an editor of a trade magazine, and now I work in city magazines. But what I am really passionate about is books.
It would be a rewarding, challenging, dynamic learning experience to get up in front of students and provide an avenue for them to learn lessons from other people's stories in books. What better way to travel when poor? What better way to learn about your enemies? What easier way to get a first-hand look into another culture? Remember what its like to be young, or discover what it feels to be old...
For the longest time, all I could think of was teaching writing workshops, and maybe women's studies. But now, I've come to see a deeper utility in reading. Mostly because no one reads. I know people who read some -- a few books a year, maybe more -- and I know people who read one book a year. I know people who don't read books at all. And I know avid readers who read trashy magazines, romance novels, Dean Koontz crap. Just meaning, there is plenty of literature out there, and I fear no one is learning.
Reading opens a gigantic door to empathy. Reading makes you walk in someone else's shoes. Reading makes you identify with people you perceive as different. Reading cultivates a sensitivity around what it means to be human: to be aware of your own and others' vulnerabilities, to understand we are shaped by our culture, religion, diet, choices, sexual preference. Reading makes us understand how people turn to heroin and why people smoke. Reading helps us understand what its like to live with cancer, be depressed, or be in love. Reading can help us cope with death. Reading can bring new worlds into view. Reading reminds us that things change, and teach us to be appreciate of that fact. Reading reminds us to question authority. It can also make us laugh, imagine, dream, escape, time travel, and so much more.
This is not a campaign for literacy, because the basic skill of being capable of reading is a necessary tool for success at a fundamental level. I am talking about something transcendental. An everyday transcendental experience -- or at least taking a shot at it.
One of my favorite quotes says, "At every instance, one is either growing into something more or shrinking into something less." This quote has inspired me and scared me on and off over about 8 years. I forced myself to memorize it when I was working at a skeezy democratic campaign office with people I didn't respect, save myself and one other. I didn't want to get stuck. I see learning and personal growth as an avenue to freedom and agency. Reading lends both.
Do people realize this? Is this a personal perspective, this passion about learning, reading, growing? Is it worthwhile to try to cultivate this in others?
I think it is, absolutely. And I'd like to try.
20 BOOKS THAT HAVE CHANGED MY LIFE:
1. Tao te Ching, by Lao Tzu
2. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig
3. Sophie's World, by Josteen Gartner
4. Elegy, by Larry Levis
5. Huck Finn, by Mark Twain
6. The Tao of Physics, by Frijtof Capra
7. Cat's Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
8. The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula LeGuin
9. On Liberty, by John Stuart Mill
10. How to Read a Book, by William Adler
11. Democracy in America, by Alexis de Tocqueville
12. Malcom X, by Alex Haley
13. Almanac of the Dead, by Leslie Marmon Silko
14. The Tipping Point, by Malcom Gladwell
15. Being and Nothingness, by Jean Paul Sartre
16. The Second Sex, by Simone de Beavoir
17. The Book, by Alan Watts
18. Toward a Philosophy of the Act, by M. Bahktin
19. In Another Place, Not Here, by Dionne Brand
20. The Alchemist, by Paulo Coehlo
It would be a rewarding, challenging, dynamic learning experience to get up in front of students and provide an avenue for them to learn lessons from other people's stories in books. What better way to travel when poor? What better way to learn about your enemies? What easier way to get a first-hand look into another culture? Remember what its like to be young, or discover what it feels to be old...
For the longest time, all I could think of was teaching writing workshops, and maybe women's studies. But now, I've come to see a deeper utility in reading. Mostly because no one reads. I know people who read some -- a few books a year, maybe more -- and I know people who read one book a year. I know people who don't read books at all. And I know avid readers who read trashy magazines, romance novels, Dean Koontz crap. Just meaning, there is plenty of literature out there, and I fear no one is learning.
Reading opens a gigantic door to empathy. Reading makes you walk in someone else's shoes. Reading makes you identify with people you perceive as different. Reading cultivates a sensitivity around what it means to be human: to be aware of your own and others' vulnerabilities, to understand we are shaped by our culture, religion, diet, choices, sexual preference. Reading makes us understand how people turn to heroin and why people smoke. Reading helps us understand what its like to live with cancer, be depressed, or be in love. Reading can help us cope with death. Reading can bring new worlds into view. Reading reminds us that things change, and teach us to be appreciate of that fact. Reading reminds us to question authority. It can also make us laugh, imagine, dream, escape, time travel, and so much more.
This is not a campaign for literacy, because the basic skill of being capable of reading is a necessary tool for success at a fundamental level. I am talking about something transcendental. An everyday transcendental experience -- or at least taking a shot at it.
One of my favorite quotes says, "At every instance, one is either growing into something more or shrinking into something less." This quote has inspired me and scared me on and off over about 8 years. I forced myself to memorize it when I was working at a skeezy democratic campaign office with people I didn't respect, save myself and one other. I didn't want to get stuck. I see learning and personal growth as an avenue to freedom and agency. Reading lends both.
Do people realize this? Is this a personal perspective, this passion about learning, reading, growing? Is it worthwhile to try to cultivate this in others?
I think it is, absolutely. And I'd like to try.
20 BOOKS THAT HAVE CHANGED MY LIFE:
1. Tao te Ching, by Lao Tzu
2. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig
3. Sophie's World, by Josteen Gartner
4. Elegy, by Larry Levis
5. Huck Finn, by Mark Twain
6. The Tao of Physics, by Frijtof Capra
7. Cat's Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
8. The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula LeGuin
9. On Liberty, by John Stuart Mill
10. How to Read a Book, by William Adler
11. Democracy in America, by Alexis de Tocqueville
12. Malcom X, by Alex Haley
13. Almanac of the Dead, by Leslie Marmon Silko
14. The Tipping Point, by Malcom Gladwell
15. Being and Nothingness, by Jean Paul Sartre
16. The Second Sex, by Simone de Beavoir
17. The Book, by Alan Watts
18. Toward a Philosophy of the Act, by M. Bahktin
19. In Another Place, Not Here, by Dionne Brand
20. The Alchemist, by Paulo Coehlo
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
We Decided to Make It Permanent
This is an idea I am developing for a book, inspired by a short news story I heard on NPR about the beaches in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. I hope to write a short story, or a fictional account, that analyzes humans' need to create the illusion of stability and permanence, and study the irony of being at such odds with our environment.
If you took a geology course or lived on a coast somewhere, you probably know about coastal erosion. Well, nothing is different in Fort Lauderdale -- the beaches are maintained by a coastal committee, a government agency I think. They pump sand from the ocean floor to maintain the white sandy tourist attractions, and make sure the pier and hotels remain in place. If they didn't, things would not appear how they do currently. At least one pier would be completely under water by about 10 feet, the interviewee of this NPR story says.
For the time being, here is the link to that story, "Importing Sand, Glass May Help Restore Beaches,"by Jon Hamilton:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=12026379.
Along these same lines, I just saw an ad for a forthcoming nature drama show/investigative report on TV that's called something like "What if we controlled the weather?" I can't find anything about it online, perhaps because I can't remember what network its on. Regardless, in Daniel Quinn's book Ishmael (can't figure out how to italicize on this keyboard), when he's talking about the spin-off effects of human beings harnessing the productive power of the earth in agriculture and what an impact developing those first farming systems have had on nature, the environment, our big brains and our big egos, he mentioned that weather was basically the last aspect of nature that humans have not yet successfully been able to control (not that we haven't tried). Now here comes this show. We have to watch it, because I'm curious, what are those meteorologists doing with tornados and hurricanes? Where do they go?
I suppose there are still earthquakes left to try and control. And there's still mind control, but we already have social norms, violence and poverty, so why move to something so obscure when its already so easy? And drugs.
I'm off topic now. Getting back to superimposing permanence on our ever-changing world, let's turn to the Tao te Ching, told by Lao Tzu so long ago. Whatever translation you have, you should be able to glean the idea that nothing is stable in the world, and that everything you perceive as real is just a shifting of a former shadow's self, so to speak. Meaning that "nature, in its wayward, wandering nature" (as Alan Watts would say), cannot be pinned down. At least that approach is the antithesis of what it means to simply be. I was going to say "develop" or "grow," but those are our artificial, view-from-above concepts.
Here is a sample of what I'm referring to on the off chance that you don't have a copy of the Tao laying around, or you don't know what it is. This is the first few lines of verse 8: "The highest good is like water./ Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive./ It flows in places men reject and so is like that Tao."
As members of our shared environment, we are not exempt from the laws of the universe. We cannot, despite illusion, stop time or ward off death. Things end.
There is a widespread theory that people fear change because deep down, they fear death. I don't really think this is the case. Perhaps people fear change because we have trained ourselves to react immediately to situations presented to us. We are the culture of the quick response (think driving). This habit is tied to immediate gratification; both may be borne of the same source. Sameness, or predictability, allows us to control our environments. To exert our will over our predictable circumstances. If you know the route you're driving because you drive it everday, you don't have to think about how to get where you're going. If society says the way to happiness and normalcy, the starting points or building blocks of everything you'll ever want and need, begin with marriage, children and owning a home, then maybe we should do that. Get ourselves into legally binding contracts of all sorts that we create to pacify ourselves on a superficial level that things will remain constant, and we don't have to fear ... abondonment ... poverty ... solitude ...
Fearing change itself. But not because we fear death. Is it the fear of thinking? Of finding a new way to be successful after we've already paved our path and proven ourselves? It can't be that simple. That stupid guy wrote "Who Moved My Cheese" based on that theory, and it was only marginally OK or applicable/relevant for certain people in the workplace.
Well, there are certainly more thoughts here. Don't despair. This is my first blog. I promise that if I develop this idea, it will be developed with the use of proper nouns, reliable sources, quotes and comparisons to other works, and the name of that TV show, etc.
If you took a geology course or lived on a coast somewhere, you probably know about coastal erosion. Well, nothing is different in Fort Lauderdale -- the beaches are maintained by a coastal committee, a government agency I think. They pump sand from the ocean floor to maintain the white sandy tourist attractions, and make sure the pier and hotels remain in place. If they didn't, things would not appear how they do currently. At least one pier would be completely under water by about 10 feet, the interviewee of this NPR story says.
For the time being, here is the link to that story, "Importing Sand, Glass May Help Restore Beaches,"by Jon Hamilton:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=12026379.
Along these same lines, I just saw an ad for a forthcoming nature drama show/investigative report on TV that's called something like "What if we controlled the weather?" I can't find anything about it online, perhaps because I can't remember what network its on. Regardless, in Daniel Quinn's book Ishmael (can't figure out how to italicize on this keyboard), when he's talking about the spin-off effects of human beings harnessing the productive power of the earth in agriculture and what an impact developing those first farming systems have had on nature, the environment, our big brains and our big egos, he mentioned that weather was basically the last aspect of nature that humans have not yet successfully been able to control (not that we haven't tried). Now here comes this show. We have to watch it, because I'm curious, what are those meteorologists doing with tornados and hurricanes? Where do they go?
I suppose there are still earthquakes left to try and control. And there's still mind control, but we already have social norms, violence and poverty, so why move to something so obscure when its already so easy? And drugs.
I'm off topic now. Getting back to superimposing permanence on our ever-changing world, let's turn to the Tao te Ching, told by Lao Tzu so long ago. Whatever translation you have, you should be able to glean the idea that nothing is stable in the world, and that everything you perceive as real is just a shifting of a former shadow's self, so to speak. Meaning that "nature, in its wayward, wandering nature" (as Alan Watts would say), cannot be pinned down. At least that approach is the antithesis of what it means to simply be. I was going to say "develop" or "grow," but those are our artificial, view-from-above concepts.
Here is a sample of what I'm referring to on the off chance that you don't have a copy of the Tao laying around, or you don't know what it is. This is the first few lines of verse 8: "The highest good is like water./ Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive./ It flows in places men reject and so is like that Tao."
As members of our shared environment, we are not exempt from the laws of the universe. We cannot, despite illusion, stop time or ward off death. Things end.
There is a widespread theory that people fear change because deep down, they fear death. I don't really think this is the case. Perhaps people fear change because we have trained ourselves to react immediately to situations presented to us. We are the culture of the quick response (think driving). This habit is tied to immediate gratification; both may be borne of the same source. Sameness, or predictability, allows us to control our environments. To exert our will over our predictable circumstances. If you know the route you're driving because you drive it everday, you don't have to think about how to get where you're going. If society says the way to happiness and normalcy, the starting points or building blocks of everything you'll ever want and need, begin with marriage, children and owning a home, then maybe we should do that. Get ourselves into legally binding contracts of all sorts that we create to pacify ourselves on a superficial level that things will remain constant, and we don't have to fear ... abondonment ... poverty ... solitude ...
Fearing change itself. But not because we fear death. Is it the fear of thinking? Of finding a new way to be successful after we've already paved our path and proven ourselves? It can't be that simple. That stupid guy wrote "Who Moved My Cheese" based on that theory, and it was only marginally OK or applicable/relevant for certain people in the workplace.
Well, there are certainly more thoughts here. Don't despair. This is my first blog. I promise that if I develop this idea, it will be developed with the use of proper nouns, reliable sources, quotes and comparisons to other works, and the name of that TV show, etc.
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