Month: December 2024

We all have our habits, good and bad. I’ve already discussed my tendencies to be a cleanliness freak. Some would consider my sanitary habits to be a good thing. Others might complain that it can be annoying when I immediately rinse their cups or move items that they have left on the kitchen counter to their normal spaces. I won’t lie. I tend to be almost fanatical about keeping things tidy but if we happen to discuss my junk drawer all bets go out the window. I learned long ago from my friends, Pat, that every home should have a place where we can just throw things in with abandon. Mine is the drawer at the end of the counter where I store odds and ends that don’t seem to have a logical home. Right now it looks fairly organized because I straightened it up a few weeks ago. Give a few more weeks and it will be obvious that I just toss everything in with no rhyme of reason other than getting it all out of the way. 

Another of my habits is rising early in the morning to enjoy my tea and breakfast before anyone else wakes up. I like the silence because I have never been a morning person. The best days are the ones when I have a couple of hours before anyone else joins me. I play all the different word games in The New York Times and then check Facebook to see whose birthday it is. After that I visit the site of my email account and end up reading articles from various newspapers and magazines. I love the mornings most when it is cool outside and the sun has not yet peeked over the horizon. I enjoy listening to the children in the neighborhood eating for the school bus. I miss them whenever school is not in session. 

When someone interrupts my morning habit by getting up earlier than usual and begins talking and turning on lights the dark side of my habit comes through. I am as grumpy as can be and I don’t mind letting people know that I don’t do conversations until later in the day. Most of the time I try not to over sleep so that I manage to get enough “me” time to be quite pleasant when the house eventually fills with sounds. 

I mostly run my days by calendar entries and lists that I create weeks in advance. I can’t seem to get past the idea of carefully planning each hour much like I had to do when I was still working as a teacher. It seems to be baked into to my very personality even though I have been retired for quite some time now. Scheduling and making to do lists keeps me centered and makes me feel useful. My mood becomes quite blue when I have nothing to do. I have to keep exercising and writing my blog each day. I have to learn something new, reach out to friends, keep meaning in my life. I suppose that the downside of it all is that I have always been obsessive about accomplishing goals and just relaxing is very difficult for me. 

When I was a child I had Saturday chores that I still relegate to that day of the week. I get up in the morning and clean all of the bathrooms and the kitchen until they are sparkly. I remember how my mom taught me to get under the rim of the toilet and how to reach behind the commode to clean the floor and the the tile on the wall. I am machine like in my attention to details, so everything is pristine when I am done. Then I treat myself to shopping or a trip to the beach or some other fun place just as my mother rewarded me way back in the day. Some habits never die once they are imprinted on our psyches. 

I seem to be the most prolific on Mondays. I get so much accomplished that if doing so were an Olympic sport I would earn a gold medal. On Sundays however I allow myself to be a slug. I can remember when all the stores were closed in honor of the Sabbath. Sundays were for reading the newspaper from the front page to the last page of the last section. Of course there was always first going to church. Now I can pick and choose many different times for worshipping and if I am feeling a bit under the weather I can still view services online. 

My husband and I used to catch dinner whenever the urge to eat prompted us to cook. We might sit down at five in the afternoon or wait until eight or nine in the evening. Our habit was to have no set habit. Since my father-in-law came to stay with us we have lived by a rather strict routine. He likes to sit for a bit of wine and conversation at five followed by dinner at six. We rarely deviate from that now and I have adjusted even though I am one of those people who might even forget to eat if I were on my own. A formal meal each day truly has little or no appeal to me but I’ve been responsible for my husband and my children over the years so changing my ways for my father-in-law is working out fine. It has kept my on my toes serving healthy meals that are really better for all of us. 

I don’t drink too much and I’ve never smoked. I have never once taken any kind of illegal drug. I suppose that some would see me as being uptight. In defense I would argue that I really do adhere to the idea of minding my own business. I do my thing and advocate for everybody else to do theirs. As long as we all get to do the things that make us happy without overdoing or hurting someone else, I’m good. Habits are personal and I admit to mine. Whether they seem good or bad they are just the way I am. As far as everyone else goes, my motto is to each his or her own. I am who I am and so should you be.

Ernest Hemingway once said: In our darkest moments, we don’t need solutions or advice. What we yearn for is simply human connection—a quiet presence, a gentle touch. These small gestures are the anchors that hold us steady when life feels like too much.

I’ve had an interesting week. It has been one of contemplation, a state of mind that I am often compelled to seek. I have asked myself what is most important in this moment of history when I sense that we are heading for some dangerous and challenging times. I have reflected on many aspects of life for some time now and I am feeling anxious and wondering if the foundations of who I have always been are faltering beneath me. I have asked myself if I have been too focused on actions, solutions for the political battle that is driving the citizens our nation farther and farther apart. I see that people on both sides of the spectrum believe that that they are the ones fighting for the very soul of democracy, but how can that be? Is it possible that both are right or even that both are wrong? Is there actually answer built on compromise?

I sat with a lovely woman a few days ago. She did not ask how my ninety five year old father-in-law is doing, but rather how I am doing as a caregiver for him. It was quite soothing to realize that somebody actually understood that the current role that dominates my life might actually be somewhat difficult for me rather than the blessing that everyone tells me I am so lucky to experience. Her tiny change in focus on what is happening in my world allowed me to admit that I am not always at my best when I care for the aging man. I confessed that the situation is not the wondrous joy that everyone seems to think it surely must be. She only listened with rapt attention and told me that everything that I was telling her was so very human and made her admiration of me even more certain. Her willingness to hear me complain and to accept that my sometimes negative thoughts were part of such a difficult job helped me to feel so much better. Her quiet presence and earnest willingness to hear what I was really feeling was exactly what I had needed in that moment. She helped me understand that my fears and frustrations are normal reactions. I left with a new more positive attitude because she had quietly accepted and honored me just as I am.

I began to wonder if we all might return to a happier time in our nation’s history if we were willing to just give each side of the political questions a time to express themselves without judgement or refutation. I suspect that much of our present anxiety about what will happen in our nation has come about due to a constant barrage of bombastic assertions and advice that fills our heads with the absurd idea that there is one and only one person, idea, or party that will make things right once again. We are literally engaged in a civil war of ideologies and at the moment the winner of a small plurality of votes seems to think that this is the moment to demand that we all march to the same drumbeat rather than allowing the multitude of differing beliefs to enjoy the freedom to be ourselves. 

We have been led by power seekers to stop listening to each other. They have filled our heads with so many distractions and fears that we are no longer able to simply sit quietly with each other and make the kind of human connections that I felt with the woman who eased my anxieties by allowing me to admit that I do not always see my care giving as a blessing. She helped me assuage my guilt and shame simply by listening and telling me that it was okay to have angry thoughts now and again. Our nation feels lost and broken because we sense that we have lost the ability to understand each other and to work and live together in harmony. 

We are a nation of many religious faiths and yet at the moment there are those who keep insisting that we must be a Christian nation. While I am deeply Catholic I have never wanted to force my spirituality on others. I know that the vast variety of religious thought in our nation is a clear indication that we each find the guidance for our souls that feels the most real and comfortable. We should keep the ability to choose an individual thing. Our schools and political systems should veer from attempts to adopt one form of religious thinking over another. Freedom to choose should apply to how people should view their sexuality and bodily autonomy as well.

If we are indeed intent on making Christianity the guiding force of our nation we should at the very least follow the example of Jesus Christ in extending his love to all people at all times, not just a chosen few. Perhaps if we were willing to really love one another as commanded we might be more inclined to build a big tent of opportunity for everyone regardless of their race, sexuality, religion, economic status or political views. We would be willing to listen to the progressives with ideas for moving forward while heeding the cautions of conservatives who worry that we may be moving too fast. 

I have lately listened to college professors and teachers who fear that their livelihoods are being threatened by ham handed attempts to silence them from teaching the truth. I have spoken to young women who fear what may happen if they miscarry. I have heard the concerns of people from the LGBTQ community who worry that their right to live in peace will instead return to times of great danger and fear. I have been asked by the children of illegal immigrants if I really believe that they will be deported. I have also heard from earnestly religious souls who truly feel that they have done God’s work in voting for conservatives willing to defend their morals. I have heard from kind people who are struggling financially and wondering how to actually live the American dream. Each of these groups have concerns that we should all be willing to hear. We must listen to them first with open minds and then admit that few problems are ever solved with only one possible solution. 

I’d like to think that we might be willing to just be understanding humans. The world is far too complex to be forced into a single perspective. We would do well to turn off the noise that is working us into a nationwide tizzy and tell our leaders that what we want most from them is just to hear us out and that begins with sitting with each other with understanding and love. If we do that we may begin to realize what is really important is honoring the individuality and humanity of everyone. A quiet presence and gentle touch is so much better than bullying people into accepting one political ideology.

Women are the people who quietly go about the world doing wonderful things that few people ever notice. They make sure the everyone in the family has clean socks and underwear. They work at work and work at home doing their magic to keep everything running smoothly. They schedule and chauffeur and stay up long after everyone else is asleep doing laundry or preparing lunches for the next day. Women do these things automatically, rarely asking for credit and often seeming to be invisible. It is only when they get sick or injured or die that we sometimes realize just how much they have been doing. We can’t believe how much things fall apart when they are gone. 

It is difficult being a woman. We tend not to make as much money as men for the very same jobs. When children are sick it is often left to the women to take time off from work. Women are usually the ones who remember birthdays and special events. They take care of purchasing gifts and visiting elderly friends and family members. Sometimes we marvel at everything that they do. At other times we almost take their countless efforts for granted. Who really thinks about why that toilet is so clean or how the apples that we enjoy so much found their way into our refrigerator?

Women lovingly and willingly stretch themselves so thinly that they sometimes neglect their own needs. I remember my Grandma Minnie Bell hiding pain so long that when it finally became unbearable she was diagnosed with stage 4 untreatable cancer. My Grandma Ulrich kept mopping her floors every single day, making dinner for her sons, and cheerfully offering coffee to anyone who came to visit until one day she did not have the strength to get out of bed. A visit to a doctor revealed that she had end stage cancer as well. 

Stories such as these are not so uncommon with women. They hide all kinds of pain and worry and sorrows because they know that they have duties beyond themselves. They push and push themselves until they have no more energy to keep going. Even as they recuperate they make lists of things that must be done. They know the calendar by heart. They can drive the routes to schools and ball fields and swimming pools blindfolded. Their dedication is super human and yet much of what they do seems so small until they are not doing it anymore. 

Women find it difficult to let go and just take care of themselves. They may instinctively know that life should be more than just a to-do list but worry about who will actually accomplish the tasks that need to be done if they give in to every ache and pain that comes their way. It’s easier said than done to take a break to parse their many duties and eliminate the ones that don’t seem to matter as much. 

Perhaps they can let dust settle on the furniture but bathrooms and kitchens need to be clean and healthy. Maybe they can skip folding the clothes after they have been washed but some items wrinkle so easily inside a piled high basket. Not every woman can afford to hire someone to come and do the heavy cleaning and so they do their best to keep the routines moving smoothly lest their worlds collapse into chaos. 

I am haunted by a story that I have often told of a woman who worked three different jobs just to keep a roof over her head and that of her son. He worried constantly about her because she would leave early in the morning and return close to midnight. Sometimes she was so exhausted that she fell asleep in her car, unable to even walk inside. Other times she made it as far as the living room couch where she would lie grabbing a few hours sleep before doing her work all over again. Her legs and ankles were swollen and painful but she had to hide her pain. Hers was an extreme story but not so unlike so many women simply trying to keep the engines of their lives moving forward. 

This is not to say that men do not also have their problems, it is only to point out that we all too often underestimate the extent to which women silently sacrifice themselves for others even as they know that their efforts will go unheard and unseen. They do what they do because they love, not for laurels or anything other than the joy of knowing that they are tackling jobs that are much more important than they may seem to be. 

It has been this way since the beginning of time. The mothers and daughters and sisters and female friends almost automatically become caretakers. They see those who came before them making soup for the sick, pushing themselves even when they are bone tired. They remember mothers who came to check on them in the middle of the night. Mothers were the ones they called when they were afraid or when their fevered heads hurt. They cuddled in the warmth of their mothers’ hugs and shed their tears knowing that women would make everything right. 

When I get down I often need to find a woman with whom to share my feelings, bare my thoughts. I know that most women will understand why it is important to get better to be able to take care of others. They will know how difficult it is to just rest when things must be done. They can show me how to take a break for just long enough to get my super powers working once again. Women are remarkable like that. I am thankful for all that they do.

James Earl Jones was a remarkable actor with an unforgettable voice. He did many movies and Broadway plays but was perhaps best known for being the voice of Darth Vader. That iconic role will forever be his legacy to the world but his true life story is perhaps much more interesting. 

Unbeknownst to most of us, James Earl Jones was almost mute as a young boy. His stutter was so bad that he spoke very little lest he be ridiculed. it was not until he was a high school student that he finally came out of his shell. He wrote a poem for an English class that was so stunning that the teacher challenged him with an accusation that he must not have been the author of the piece. Of course, Mr. Jones had to defend himself and the teacher made a deal with Jones to prove his authorship by reciting the poem in class. Jones practiced for days both to hide his speaking problem and to perfect his delivery with the emotional impact that he intended to poem to convey. His delivery was impeccable and it changed to course of his life as his wise teacher rewarded him with high praise for both his creativity and his sonorous voice.

It is rather incredible how a single event or person has the power of making or breaking us. I remember times when teachers had similar impacts on my development as an adult. The first grade teacher who showed me how to overcome my slight dyslexia unlocked the techniques that I would always use to read and learn. The college coach who took the time to teach sports to me step step increased my confidence in my physical self. The English teacher who insisted that I had a gift for writing helped me to realize that I might have something worthy of sharing. Then there was the principal who had faith in my ability to be a leader and scheduled me to be the acting principal for summer school. 

There always seem to be people who see our talents better than we do. If they take the time to encourage and push us we often find ourselves attempting things that at one time were unthinkable. In the process we realize our own talents and find the joy that comes from actually using them. I suspect that everyone has one or more persons in their lives who granted them the gift of acknowledgement. 

My mother often spoke of an English teacher who told her that she had an amazing grasp of the English language. That was quite a compliment for a young girl who was the daughter of immigrant parents who spoke little or no English. She took great pride in being able to speak and write with precision and eventually became a teacher herself. 

My husband had a professor who became a mentor and lifelong friend. The relationship came at a time when he was struggling to find himself and doubting his own abilities. Throughout the rest of his career there would always be people who saw his skills and talents even though he is by nature a very quiet and unassuming man. Those people opened doors for him that he would never have known to take on his own. 

Mentors are wonderful people who encourage others rather than competing with them. They enjoy finding the sometimes hidden talents that every person has. I have tried to be such a person. I remember encouraging a student who was heavily involved in gangs to use his artistic abilities. I purchased art supplies for him and told him to keep his best pieces in a portfolio that I gave him. He was quite stunned that anyone had noticed his work. I would like to think that he continued honing his talent and that one day he will be recognized.

We never know when we have changed another person’s life. Sometimes we do very little and don’t even remember the moment when that individual discovered something new and exciting about himself or herself. I’ve been stunned at times to hear the impact that I had on someone. it tells me that we would all do well to notice the good in each person and tell what we see rather than keeping it in our heads. Everyone benefits from hearing praise from someone else. Everyone is up to a challenge when its goal is to launch confidence and self belief.

As a math teacher I constantly hear from students who insist that they are terrible with numbers. That usually translates to being someone who has just never had the right explanations. Most of the time a really good teaching session brings amazing results. Math can be daunting but the right instructor makes it magical. 

Look around you and find the people who are struggling with themselves unaware of talents hiding in plain sight. Tell them when you see wonderful things in them. Don’t lie or exaggerate, simply be truthful in sharing what is obviously wonderful about them. Maybe it is their kindness. Maybe it is a certain talent. Maybe it is their willingness to work hard to change. Whatever you see, mention it. Your notice may help create another James Earl Jones or maybe just a dedicated teacher who loves to read and write blogs and is comfortable in her own skin. 

When I was in high school my English teacher required the students in his class to write a weekly theme based on a single word or phrase. There were few other directions other than requiring both a minimal and maximal number of words. It was up to our individual creativity to determine the thoughts that would end up on the papers that we wrote. It was exactly the kind of assignment that I enjoyed. 

I am the kind of person who likes having as much freedom to do things as possible. I become surly when I am restricted by too many rules. I dislike the idea of following a scripted way of living. I have never been able to work or live in that kind of environment, but when I was teaching and working as the Dean of Faculty I quickly learned that a large segment of the population thrives on having exacting sets of rules. 

For those of us who are free spirits the mere thought of being told that we must act in very specific ways is anathema. I literally was never able to learn in a set way. I hated those classes where the teacher demanded that I take notes in a particular manner. I have my own learning style and I found such constrictions to actually make it more difficult to recall and explain information. 

I’ve been told that I don’t hold my pencil correctly when I write but my methods has worked for me for decades. I take notes with pictures, codes that I created just for myself years ago. I bloom when assignments are open ended rather than confined by rule after rule that I have to check off as I work. My motto has always been to just get the gist of expectations and then let my creativity run wild. Somehow when left alone I soar, when confined I become mediocre. 

Nonetheless I know for a fact that many people need step by step directions and requirements to be successful. They crave rules to guide them. They seriously can’t handle an assignment without hard and fast deadlines or detailed descriptions of expectations. Thus I found myself often providing such guidelines to both teachers and students when I myself was appalled by them. 

As a math teacher I knew that there were almost always multiple ways of solving a particular problem. I like the idea of allowing my students to explore concepts and come up with their own methods of understanding. More often than not, however, I would have a substantial number of pupils who wanted me to simply provide them with a step by step process without going into the weeds of comprehension. The idea of thinking outside of the box was not just foreign to them, it was anathema. 

I found the same to be true when I was the Dean of Faculty. I required the teachers to provide me with a review of their weekly lesson plans each Monday morning. Some of the most exciting and excellent teachers let me know what they were doing with brief descriptions of their intentions. Others literally turned in detailed scripts. The worst aspect of the situation was whenever some of the teachers rebelled and insisted that I create a strict formula that every person in the building had to follow. In other words, they demanded that every person should have to conform to their ways of doing things. 

I find society to be much like that. We have people who want incredibly strict ways of living. They think that forcing everyone to follow the rules that make them comfortable makes for a more harmonious society. Such people think it their duty to make rules that reflect their preferred sets of beliefs. They never stop to realize that a truly vital society understands that we each have different needs and the best way of doing things is to allow each person to tackle life’s demands in the ways that work for them. Some will need a strict written code of conduct and others will just naturally find ways to live lovingly in community with fellow humans. Most of the time keeping things simple like my English teacher did makes for happier moments of discovering who we are and what works best for us. 

Obviously we have to follow certain common sense laws that allow us to function as a society. We humans seem to naturally understand that we can’t hurt each other with lies, theft, violence, betrayal. We codify sets of conduct that seem to be universal to most ways of thinking. Still, we always walk a fine line when designing laws that involve our religious and political differences. Here in the United States we should be certain that we do not become so judgmental that we cross a line that forces a goodly number of our citizens to adhere to philosophies that should be individual and personal. To avoid devolving into tyranny we would do well to be open to many different points of view. That is when we operate at our best as a community. 

Instead of being judgmental our goal should always be to strive for understanding and inclusivity. Human nature is not made up of clones. We are not naturally robotic. Each of us thinks, learns, and lives in the ways that work best for our specific needs. We should honor our differences as long as they do not maliciously hurt each other. If we keep in mind that we are each unique by design our theme of life will be open and welcoming of the many ideas that make our world vital and exciting. Some among us will have step by step rules, others will be as free as the wind. All of us are wonderful. When we acknowledge that we will be on our way to happier and more productive ways of living.