Making This Dinner Party Awkward

I’m really tired ya’ll. Of the election. You know…the one that’s 14 months away? And I know I’m not alone because people tell me all of the time that they are tired of it too. For a number of years now I’ve had this notion that there are a lot of us from across the political spectrum who may be dissatisfied with the way candidates behave during elections.

How’s that for stating the obvious?

We watch our selected news programs and read our local papers and visit our trusted websites and it is just too much to absorb sometimes. All of the words…the shouting…the sarcasm (which normally I’m a fan of, but not when we’re talking about things that affect people’s lives)…the name-calling…the vilifying. Don’t we have enough real villains without our “leaders” fabricating them?

I love language. I think there is power in words -- both in speaking and in listening. But words can hurt. Not in the same way that sticks and stones will break your bones…but in often invisible and deeply painful ways. This is true in all human relationships…among friends and family, among professional colleagues, and even among political opponents.

You can hardly turn on a 24-hour news channel without landing on a debate of some sort between two or more people with opposing views about what’s wrong with the world today:

• Guns
• Abortion
• Immigrants
• Isolationism
• Racism
• Greed
• Deterioration of the nuclear family
• Poverty
• Education
• Religion
• Lack of Religion
• Liberals
• Conservatives

Everyone is just sure they know why our society is decaying before our eyes. Someone is always ready to tell you what the one single problem is, to identify the person or persons behind it, and to destroy their humanity. And once the audience is convinced that someone is wrong about an issue because they are evil…the next logical step is that they are wrong about everything because they are inherently evil. They become dehumanized and, by extension, anyone who agrees with them somehow becomes deeply flawed as well. No longer a human counterpart in conversation…an adversary becomes “the other” – an enemy which needs to be destroyed.

Of course, I don’t accept that society is decaying before our eyes…society has always had its problems. We see more of them now because we are global and because there is infinitely more data about everything at our disposal. This can be a good thing if we are looking for problems to solve. It can also be a bad thing if we are just looking for people to blame. If there’s anything different about now as opposed to “the good old days”, it’s that we used to talk to each other more…and not in 10-second sound bytes, 140-character quips, or Internet memes…but over coffee, meals, and in our legislative assemblies.

Political memes and Twitter slogans are poison. They are not discourse. They do not paint a complete picture of any issue or any person. They never tell the whole story or adequately present the complexities of any problem that involves people. They are at best a starting point for discussion. But I don’t believe these descendants of social media intend to do any of those things anyway – their intent is to encourage division and fuel rage.

Because election cycles seem to get longer every year…for some it is perpetual… divisive and thoughtless speech has become the star – the prima donna – of the 24-hour news cycle. Every tragedy…every triumph…every seemingly benign “human interest story” is vulnerable to misappropriation, misinterpretation, and/or oversimplification by someone with an agenda.

We scarcely have time to process a world event before some gas-bag has seized it as their issue du jour, interpreted it according to their worldview, and boiled it down for us so we don’t need to process it for ourselves. Sounds helpful, doesn’t it? Except that it’s not. I don’t want a presidential candidate telling you or me what to think. Their primary motive at this stage is just maintaining relevance – not demonstrating governance.

Free airtime is their only concern and ugliness is the carrot that all the media rabbits chase hardest. All publicity is good publicity, right?

This distorted rhetoric bleeds into every area of our lives…sprinkling our news feeds, engulfing our information outlets. It consumes the news cycle until it permeates our thoughts and we begin to associate this rhetoric with the people we love -- those who may support “the other” – until they become the other too.

I hate this.

When people run for office, they do and say things about each other that are completely contrary to the things I’ve spent 14 years trying to teach my kids:

• “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” Dalai Lama
• “Speak in such a way that others love to listen to you. Listen in such a way that others love to speak to you.” (I don’t know who said it first, but I say it to myself and my kids a lot.) 
• Almost any of these quotes from the modern prophet Fred Rogers. 

And then there's this one…maybe the first and certainly one of the most important adages I remember being taught as a very young child.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

For too long now we have had a double-standard for leadership. It’s a low bar in which we overlook the tactics and rhetoric used to get elected believing that the candidate we support will somehow magically become a completely different person who speaks a completely different language once they take office.

Sure he’s saying all that stuff to woo the base, but he doesn’t actually believe it. He’ll moderate once he’s in office. 

She accepts money from those people because she needs it to run the campaign, but she’ll tell them to take a hike if they try to control her policy.

Why on Earth do we believe they will stop doing what we have shown them will get them exactly what they want? It’s like expecting a toddler to suddenly give up tantrums after we have given into them several dozen times. Of course they’re not going to change. And even if they are being something they are not or saying things they don’t really believe, why would we trust our life and liberty to someone who believes the ends justify the means?

And just exactly how do we look our kids in the face – any of the kids in our lives – and say it’s okay for our adult leaders to follow those rules…

But you need to follow the Golden Rule.

I know we can do better. And it begins by expecting better. We need a Golden Rule Brigade – a task force that calls out the meanness that is unacceptable in human relationships. We have fact-checkers…let’s have some malice-checkers. What if, as we’re keeping scorecards for how our elected leaders vote, we kept scorecards for how respectful and considerate our candidates and leaders are of one another and, by extension, of us?

It is a really tall order…expecting adults to behave as such. But if we can do better at this…if we can enter governing cycles not feeling so battered and exhausted from the election cycle…maybe we can do better on some of those other things I listed above. Because I know we can do better on all of those issues too.

But only if we do unto others....

• I’ll speak to you with kindness as I would have you speak to me with kindness.
• I’ll listen to your words as I would have you listen to mine.
• I’ll value your opinions as I would have you value mine.
• I’ll honor you as a person as I would have you honor me as a person.

I know it sounds impossible and it is if we continue to reward our politicians for pitting us against one another. But remember the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? Or what about George Santayana’s definition of a fanatic? One who redoubles his effort when he has forgotten his aim?

Can’t we do better than 14 more months of enabling fanatics with our own insanity?

I’m out. I really don’t want to be insane anymore. I want to sound the giant gong for the fanatical entertainers who refuse to leave the stage. 

And I can’t make anyone else do it, so I’ll just start with me.

The first thing I’m going to do is not repost (or even "like") acerbic memes, retweet spiteful quips, or accept 10-second sound bytes as an adequate summation of the complexities facing humanity. I’m also going to remember that the people in my life – whether they agree with me or not – are, in fact, people and not the minions of some demon fabricated for someone else’s political gain.

For me, it’s really an extension of fact-checking before I speak and/or post. It’s about always looking at “the other” as another person.

For this election season…interminable as it will be…I’ll endeavor to just stop and THINK:

Feel free to join me. 

Time Time Time...See What's Become of Me

I really hate that I have fiddle-farted around this morning doing basically nothing and delaying the start of my “office hours”. House Hunters Renovation is the devil and it is completely to blame for today’s late start to productivity.

I was going to watch Rehab Addict -- just 30 minutes worth -- because it inspires me to look at things differently…to restore something old…to create nothing from something…Ex Nihilo. But it wasn’t on so I settled on HHR which was a mistake. 

House Hunters always leaves me feeling like humanity is lost forever.

I watch it feeling both inspired and disgusted at the same time. I am inspired by creative design of space stretching my own capacity to see potential in things. But sometimes I am disgusted by the “characters” into whom all the homebuyers are edited (because apparently irritating people make for good TV). The couples can’t agree on anything…I’m sure they’re all headed straight for divorce court. They all want to purchase their dream homes in the perfect school district with lots of land and a view of the Pacific Ocean for about $75,000. The worst thing is that they have an inflated sense of what it means to “need” things which they express in statements such as these:

“I have to have stainless steel appliances and granite countertops.”

“I couldn’t possibly use that bathroom the way it looks now.”

“I can’t live…      that close to the freeway.

                           with carpet in the living room.

                           without a soaker tub.

                           with the harsh 1980’s lighting.”

Have to have…couldn’t possibly use…can’t live with. Strong language in world where people sleep on concrete embankments under freeway overpasses without indoor plumbing and electricity. Every night of their lives.

I could go on for days about the lack of perspective exhibited on that show, but instead, I’m going to indict myself on similar charges of using inappropriate language about the things I need or don’t need:

“I am starving,”…when I haven’t eaten in several hours.

“I need some new clothes for my job interview,”…when I actually have more clothes than space in my closet.

“I. Can. Not. Deal with anymore…      morning swim practices.

                                                            school activity fees/emails/fundraisers.

                                                            questions to answer.

                                                            dishes to do…laundry to fold…dog hair to sweep…

Well…of course I’m not starving. I have plenty of food to feed me and my family and occasionally, I have to throw food away because we let it go bad. If I’m hungry after not eating for 5-6 hours, I can’t imagine what it’s like to go 5-6 days. I don’t know what it feels like to worry that my children won’t eat because I couldn’t make my two paychecks stretch to the end of the month. I don’t know what it means to starve.

I don’t need any new clothes. Yes, there are outdated items in my wardrobe and there are things that I’ve had since college that should…under no circumstances…be worn in public. But if I had to, I could piece together an interview outfit. I’ve never sent my kids to school in clothes that are falling apart (except for the shoes they outgrew in two weeks or the shirt that had a nervous hole chewed through it…like a goat.) I have never been cold because I didn’t have enough to wear.

And all of that stuff I just cannot deal with anymore? If I suddenly found myself dealing without them, it would be through something far more tragic than me simply feeling overwhelmed. All the stuff…all the nuisances…that come with having friends, family, education, a roof over my head, healthy kids, and a sweet canine…I should feel thankful to manage those on a daily basis. I do feel thankful even when my words fail me and instead form statements and complaints that are rooted in entitlement.

If I were to create an inspirational online photo to illustrate this point, it would look like this:

When I first saw this last week…I spent TWO WHOLE DAYS thankful for the nasty dishes in the sink and the hot running water to wash them. I relished the 30 solid minutes I had with my daughter on Friday morning while we were getting ready for and driving to 5:00am swim practice. I welcomed the requests for help or information that came from others because they thought enough of me to ask…even when I couldn’t help, or didn’t know. It’s nice to be thought of as helpful (especially when you’re a bit of a psychopath.)

Possibly the worst thing I’ve taken for granted lately is the time on my hands…the gift of being able to control so much of it…and the blessing that is leisure time. This new 30-day-challenge – 30 minutes of yoga everyday – has really made me look at how I use time. It turns out I’m not a very good steward of this precious resource. It turns out that, for me, it is much more of a challenge to add something to my daily routine than it is to subtract something from my diet. As ridiculous as the sugar headache was, just figuring out when to do 30 minutes of yoga has turned out to be just as absurd – and it’s not about not having 30 minutes, it’s about deciding which 30 minutes. Just between you and me...

I’ve already failed. 4 days down and I only did the first 2 days. Pretty sad.

I had time…I just forgot. Even as my back was screaming at me for the way I was slouching in the chair watching TV. Even after talking with something about how I needed to get off the phone and do yoga. Even though I found time for a nap both days and fell asleep before 9pm both nights. I thought about counting the naps as savasana but then I’d only be cheating myself.

So this brings me to something that I hadn’t considered before, what do I do if I miss a day? Should I start over again? Should I do an hour and a half today or an hour for the next two days? Is it just about the time spent or is it about the developing the discipline to do something daily? Should I just forgive myself and move on because no one cares?

I don’t have an answer for this. I’ll entertain suggestions. I know lots of people with opinions so feel free to share. Just know that I’ll also feel free to ignore them if I think they’re too punitive.

And now I am going to go do yoga. Perhaps Yoga with Adriene has a sequence which promotes gratitude. Seems like I could use it.

Struggle = Progress

I ran 6 miles today. This was the first “long run” of my half marathon/marathon training. Because it was titled “long”, I went into with the same trepidation with which I go into all long runs.

Gotta fuel just right

Gotta get enough sleep

Gotta run slow

Gotta have my lucky socks

Gotta have my water bottle cold

Gotta have all my electronic trackers charged

I even had minor butterflies in my stomach as we drove toward the trail where we going to be running. The weather was perfect so I had that going for me. I had everything I needed (except for the sleep) and since it was a trail run, I knew I would keep it slow to avoid tripping over a root and eating dirt.

All of this worry and preparation for a 6-mile run when I just ran 5 on Wednesday. Why was 6 so scary? It seems silly in retrospect.

I remember from this process 2 years ago that the mental training was just as important (if not more important) as the physical preparation that I did. Blocking out the voices of doubt…not letting a new route or the presence of lots of hills change my goals or my confidence…learning to be flexible so I could adjust to the unexpected.

For me, distance training and running are all about learning to deal with the unexpected and never has the phrase one at a time meant so much as when I am in the midst of training for a distance race. Last night, I put the entire running plan into a grid so I could keep track of what I’m supposed to be doing. This is one of those tasks that must be done because panning is part of the process. I really struggle to keep everything in perspective while I’m doing it, though. Once I get to the week with the 20 mile training run (even though it is 4 months away) I always feel my pulse quicken and my face gets hot. This task involves looking at each step and the end game – this can be overwhelming for me as I prefer the trees to the forest.

At this stage, I find that it’s best to look at my training schedule one WEEK at a time.

So I inserted another column to my table and added up the weekly mileage for this week and next. By 8am tomorrow, I will have completed 5 runs covering about 20 miles this week. Same number of runs for about 21 miles next week. I know that that’s a lot, but I also know that I can do that because I’ve done it a dozen times before. Scanning the rest of the plan, I see that over the next 21 weeks I have only three or four 30+ mile weeks. Most weeks are in the low twenties…even when we get around to training for the marathon. I’ve already run 17 miles this week with 3 more miles to go and I’m feeling ok – proof that what I think is true is actually true – I can run 20 miles a week. A few higher-mileage weeks here and there should be manageable as my fitness increases.

Another thing that I remember from this process two years ago is that fatigue inevitably sets in. Right now I’m in a honeymoon phase. Fall weather has arrived (which is like Christmas for a Memphis runner), we are at the beginning of the training cycle so I’m feeling excited. That lasts for a few weeks.

Then I have to start looking at my training one RUN at a time.

I have to say things like this to myself:

What have I committed to do today? 
Don’t look at tomorrow and for goodness sake DON’T…for any reason…look at the long run mileage at the end of the week. 
Just take care of your hills, Fartleks, and tempo runs. 
You can look at your long run the night before you do it.
You can have tunnel vision...its OK.

And then later on, there are the really long runs. These all accompany 2-3 speed, hill, or tempo workouts in between each long run. Oh yeah…and then there is the life that one must live when not running -- family, work, school, etc. It all has to get done and it gets difficult toward the end.

This is when the only way to train is one MILE at a time or one STEP at a time.

I can plan all I want….the eating, the sleeping, the mapping, and the scheduling around everything else, but 20 miles is nothing but sheer determination on legs. It’s only tenacity that gets me through. It's not as if  I have to do this. No one is making me. It’s not my job. It’ll take me longer to run 20 miles than it would take me to watch Titanic. So why bother?

Because I need to do difficult things. 

And I really need to do this difficult thing. I want to complete the race. Five years is a long time to have a goal and continue to fail at it.  And just as much as I need to complete the race, I need to complete the training. I want to know what it feels like to be so physically exhausted that I can’t lift my foot up onto the curb. I want to feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. I guess I want it to hurt a little. Because then, I will know what it's like to achieve something that I had to really reach for instead of just grabbing at the low-hanging fruit.

I’ve lived a privileged life so the low-hanging fruit has been abundant. I can’t begin to know what it is like to grapple with oppression, discrimination, disability, grave illness, or marginalization – real struggle. Creating challenges for myself is my meager attempt to connect with those who struggle with things that they did not choose. It’s weak…but it’s what I can do.

Frederick Douglass said, “If there is no struggle, there is no progress,” about a fight that was (and still is) much more important than me finishing a silly road race. But it definitely rings true for any test we face – including a marathon. Whether it’s one week, one day, one mile, or one step at a time, it’s the only way to move forward.

And forward is where I’m going.

Moving On...

October arrived this morning with a glorious clear skies and 55 degrees. It also marked the official end of my first 30-day challenge which was to eliminate refined, added sugar from my diet. See here for what I actually ate during the month of September.

Here are some observations about things that have changed – the things I attribute to my diet:

First, my memory and focus have improved significantly. For instance, a few minutes ago I went upstairs to put my hair in a ponytail. Once I got up there, I decided to wash my face and start a load of laundry as well. As I started back downstairs, I stopped to make sure I had actually done what I came up to do.

Ponytail. Check

.

Why is this remarkable? Thirty days ago, I would gone upstairs to put my hair in a ponytail and likely made a decision to wash my face and start a load of laundry. But…if I had stopped at the top of the stairs to make sure I had done what I set out to do…if  I had remembered that I had come up there for a specific reason in the first place…if I hadn’t been distracted by so many additional things that my brief trip up wouldn’t have kept me there for an hour…I would have been back down the stairs and into the third or fourth uncompleted distraction of my morning (all the while continually pushing my hair out of my face) before I remembered that I had once gone upstairs to put my hair in a ponytail. And in all honesty, the second trip up could have yielded an almost identical result. Ponytail. Check. is a vast improvement.

Second, I do not crave sugar anymore in that I never feel an overwhelming sense of desire to eat it. In fact, on the rare occasion that I have accidentally eaten something with added sugar (like mustard, for crying out loud) it tastes nasty. Like I ate a spoonful of fake table syrup from, well…any number of restaurants I won’t mention because I don’t want to be sued. Now…that doesn’t mean that I don’t see something sweet and think “Wow, I’ll bet that tastes good.”  If it’s one of the 800 recipes I see on Facebook each day, I might even open it up in Safari and bookmark it. But that’s different than me seeing something sweet and my legs shaking until I get up and drive to Walgreen’s to buy chocolate.

Third, and somewhat related, I have more impulse control about everything. I take the time to think before I eat, before I text, before I answer a question, before I lose my temper. I’m able to contemplate action rather than simply acting. And the contemplation doesn’t look like indecision…I’m usually able to identify alternatives, size them up and then act (if necessary) in a pretty efficient manner. The idea that there might be times in which I should not react to things was unimaginable 30 days ago.

Fourth, I eat less food…not because I haven’t been to the grocery store or because I'm intentionally depriving myself, but because I don’t feel hungry all the time. And when I do feel hungry, it’s a far more subtle sensation – more like someone gently placing their hand on my back rather than like a dog picking up my lifeless body in his mouth and thrashing me back and forth. That’s probably why I am able to think before I eat.

Finally, I’ve noticed the following physical changes: My skin is awesome. I haven’t added or subtracted anything to my usual skincare routine other than drinking more water and not eating sugar. My skin isn’t dry. I’m not constantly breaking out. I’ve lost 5 pounds – all of it in the last 12 days. My face isn’t puffy. My stomach, while not flat, isn’t bloated. I generally have more energy and on the days I exercise…especially when it’s very strenuous…I am insanely productive and then I fall asleep fast and stay asleep all night.

A caveat about the sleep…I DO NOT GET ENOUGH SLEEP. If adults are really supposed to get 7-9 hours a night, I am woefully deprived. I just don’t know how to make my days start later and/or end earlier. There have been a couple of instances when I have had to take naps. They range in duration from 5 minutes to 2 hours. But they help. And they used to just leave me feeling groggy and needy for more sleep. Last spring, after an entire year of getting up at 4:00am to get my daughter to 5:00am swim practice, I thought about sleep all the time. All. Day. Long. When I woke up in the morning, my first thought was, “When can I take a nap?” I haven’t experienced that yet. Admittedly, I could end up there again. This is only our second week of morning practice so we’re still in the honeymoon phase.

Worst honeymoon ever, BTW, because no honeymoon should ever involve waking up at 4:00am.

So I’m calling it a success. And I am continuing for the foreseeable future. I have plans to celebrate my half marathon on December 5 with a lovely meal of my choosing and if I decide on that day that I want something sweet, I’m going to eat it. After I complete my marathon on February 28, I will do likewise (TIMES TWO, of course, because it will be TWICE AS MUCH) and if that means devouring a few plates of Beignets, I will not lose one second of sleep over it. Because…New Orleans.

So what’s next?

My plan from the beginning has been to try and organize these challenges so that I alternate between subtracting things and adding things. Last month I subtracted, so this month I’ll add.

Thirty Days of Yoga.

I’ll spend at least 30 minutes each day practicing and if you think I don’t have ulterior motives here you are SO VERY WRONG. I have begun the hard training for my upcoming races which means I have run three days in a row and will continue that streak for the next two before taking a 2-day rest.

I am sore. It’s a pleasant soreness (if such a thing exists) and not debilitating, but I am extremely aware of my inflexibility. I’m also extremely aware of my jelly-like core. I need to be able to stand upright in order to run. Or walk. Or stand upright. Fortunately, yoga is the BEST activity for attending to both of these needs. Oh…and the best thing? All yoga ends with me lying still on the floor like corpse. Which means I might be able to take a quick nap. Everyday.

So that’s where I’m going now. To my room…with my laptop…to do yoga. This will end one of two ways…I will either feel relaxed, refreshed, and restored after some stretching, strengthening, and a brief nap (*note to self: set an alarm), OR I’ll end up in the ER after my hamstrings sever like a dried-out rubber band.

Either way, I will get some sleep.

Curiosity and the Kat

One month down. My first 30-day challenge completed. I think I’m going to keep the sugar out of my diet for the time being. It seems to be working for me. Tomorrow, I start a new challenge – one in which I will be adding something new rather than taking something away.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure…I wrote this yesterday. Today (maybe while you’re reading this) I am at the second round of interviews for the job I mentioned a few weeks ago. It’s both exciting and scary because what if I get it and what if I don’t. Electrified is a good adjective for how I’m feeling. That’s great if I’m a light bulb, but scary too because getting struck by lightning is also electrifying. It’s all in the delivery.

Anyway, I can’t write and interview at the same time AND I never know that the afternoon will bring. I am hoping that doubling up today will make up for taking off tomorrow. Just in case I need to.

Right now, I’m channeling my inner college student. I’ve met a beloved friend at a quirky local coffee shop – because it’s National Coffee Day and we both love coffee. We are sitting across from one another studying and writing and giggling and drinking our magic bean nectar. It’s even more college-y now than when I was in college because I didn’t drink coffee then.

Anyway…it’s good to get away from my office and out in the field. Too much of the same ole, same ole isn’t good for me.

On that front, I also ran hills yesterday morning for the first time in eons with another beloved friend. Hills are hard. My chest felt kind of like it was going to explode – all five times. That’s a weak heart muscle I think. I don’t love to run hills, but I LOVE – and had forgotten how much I love – the way I feel when it’s over. It’s a feeling that continues for hours and hours. Everything in overdrive…brain, body, metabolism, and, if memory serves, it all ends with a night of gloriously sound sleep. All of those gifts in exchange for 45 minutes of hard work? Seems like a good trade-off. And since I need to double up on writing today, the timing is perfect.

All of this is to say that it’s really good to get out of my comfort zone. I am scared to go there…outside the zone…even though that’s supposedly where the magic happens. The fact that I’m going rogue (for me) with some partners in tow makes it a little easier. New things are less scary in community. Interviewing for jobs…have laptop will travel where my writing is concerned…pushing myself physically…it all makes me feel younger than I know I am. It all makes me feel pretty alive.

And then I heard about the Meerkats.

See, there’s this Zoo and it has a meerkat exhibit. These meerkats reside in a lovely desert-like habitat close to all of the other zoo-type cats…lynx, jaguars, snow leopards, tigers, lions. And cheetahs, who are their across-the-street neighbors.

My daughter came home with a story about these meerkats last week that was freaky. As I tell you this story, there are two things I want you to keep in mind about Meerkats:

They dig tunnels. Lots of tunnels.
They do things together…in community.

There are also two things you need to know about Cheetahs:

They are the fastest land mammal.
They prefer gazelles as their source of food, but are not picky (apparently) when removed from Sub-Saharan Africa.

One day, the meerkats at this zoo decided to venture outside their comfort zone and proceeded to tunnel from their habitat all the way under the pedestrian walkway and into the cheetah’s lair. That’s the end of the story. It was also the end of those particular meerkats.

After I heard the story, I decided to < fact check > which is always a good idea when a 14-year-old tells you a story. First I googled it and found nothing. Just a bunch of articles about meerkats and a few articles about this particular zoo. I searched the zoo’s website and also found nothing.

At this point I assumed that someone was being punked – either me or my daughter. So I asked her where she heard the story and she told me it was one of her teachers. Feeling less punked, I texted the teacher and asked for the grown-up version of the story. Turns out my daughter had it right…except that she left out the part where it was five years ago. I had assumed that it was a recent occurrence. It also turns out that the zoo kept it quiet…pretty amazing in this day and time…which is why there wasn’t anything about it on the Internet. This teacher knew because a sibling had worked at the zoo when it happened.

Once confirmed the story disturbed me on many levels. First, I love the meerkats. They live in colonies of 20-30 and the females all take turns looking out for each other’s babies. All the members of the colony form strong social bonds with one another. Each colony has sentries who take turns looking out for everyone was they forage or play. It’s kind of like a village. Second they are cute. Cuddly – even with those tiny sharp claws. I know I should look at them like upright rats, but I don’t. And…food chain and natural selection be damned…I think we should save all the cute animals.

Then, there is the metaphorical fear that this story provokes.

Stepping (or digging) outside our (my) comfort zone always leads to the unknown. Whether it’s physical (can I run 26.2 miles?), emotional, (do I want to know what that dream means?), mental (do I have the skills to fill that position?), or spiritual (am I becoming who I am supposed to be?), it’s all at risk.

There could always be a cheetah waiting to devour me at the end of the tunnel.

But I think I have to do it anyway, because staying in my own comfy habitat carries with it the perils of stagnation and decay. Muscular atrophy…emotional immobility…mental torpor…resistance to change…all of these things sound like what happens when you give up. I’m too young to give up so I guess I’ll just keep taking my chances with the tunnels.

Sometimes the tunnels lead to freedom and ‘sometimes’ is good enough for me.

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

I have two brief commentaries today both compliments of the interwebs.

First.

Does NO ONE use Snopes anymore? Do we just see things on Facebook and accept them as true? Do we just cut and paste statuses because our friends do it? Do we not FACT CHECK anything?

This. Which about 100 of my friends -- all of whom I consider to be pretty savvy under normal circumstances -- have posted over the last day and a half. AND MY HUSBAND who just checked Facebook for the first time in a few days and started to become incensed by it as I was writing this post. 

Now it's official! It has been published in the media. Facebook has just released the entry price: $5.99 to keep the subscription of your status to be set to "private". If you paste this message on your page, it will be offered free (paste not share) if not tomorrow, all your posts can become public. Even the messages that have been deleted or the photos not allowed. After all, it does not cost anything for a simple copy and paste
Better safe than sorry is right. Channel 13 News was just talking about this change in Facebook's privacy policy. Better safe than sorry. As of September 28th 10:56 am Eastern standard time, I do not give Facebook or any entities associated with Facebook permission to use my pictures, information, or posts, both past and future. By this statement, I give notice to Facebook it is strictly forbidden to disclose, copy, distribute, or take any other action against me based on this profile and/or its contents. The content of this profile is private and confidential information. The violation of privacy can be punished by law (UCC 1-308- 1 1 308-103 and the Rome Statute). NOTE: Facebook is now a public entity. All members must post a note like this. If you prefer, you can copy and paste this version. If you do not publish a statement at least once it will be tactically allowing the use of your photos, as well as the information contained in the profile status updates. DO NOT SHARE. You MUST copy and paste.

It’s been published. IN THE MEDIA. Well, hell…it must be true.

Except that it's not. It’s a hoax. Not even a new hoax. A 3-year-old hoax. It is the Secretariat of internet hoaxes. Like a 3-year-old thoroughbred, this hoax could win the freakin’ triple crown because it too has speed and endurance.

The Winners:

The guy/gal who fabricated it Ex Nihilo 3 years ago just to have a little fun. You know they get an ego boost every time it recirculates

The guy/gal who starts each recirculation. I’m sure it feels powerful to be a Facebook puppet master for a few days – especially when you can convince otherwise intelligent adults to act according to your whims.

Snopes…the only winner I’m ok with. Because those who do fact check mostly use this website. Every visit to their website is good for them. Which means they can keep fact-checking…even though not enough people care to check facts.

The Rest of Us:

The people who posted it believing that it’s better to be safe than sorry. Safe would actually be doing some quick investigating to see if it's true. Sorry is spreading misinformation – even when it’s unintentional. Good people do this all the time, even me...so let's be safe out there.

EVERY CHANNEL 13 IN AMERICA because it makes them look like they don’t fact check. Now…there are probably plenty of Channel 13s in the USA that don’t fact-check. And Channel 5s and Channel 9s and Channel 3s….you get the picture. But Channel 13 gets singled-out every time this thing resurfaces.

The people who have to scroll through the 100s of identical posts for 2-3 days until people realize that it’s a hoax and it finally stops.

Wisdom. Perhaps the biggest loser…along with its ally…

Good Judgment. They both take a pretty big hit. Right in the brains.

Snopes, friends. S.N.O.P.E.S If you’re posting without fact-checking, you may be doing other things without fact-checking…like voting or getting angry with your kids' schools or otherwise adulting and that is quite dangerous. Please stop and check before you post.

Second.

Wi-Fi assist.

This is iOS’s new “helpful” feature that determines ON ITS OWN if the Wi-Fi you are using is too slow and automatically switches to your cellular network. Using up your data. That’s right, you don’t even have to think about it.

Very helpful. Especially to your wireless service provider because you’re using up your data without even knowing it. Until now.

Now, I’m no conspiracy theorist…but this is clearly a conspiracy. There is, mercifully, a way to shut it off, but I only know about this because someone posted it on Facebook.

AND SO I FACT-CHECKED IT (really, you must do this, people), and it turns out it’s true. Click here for more info including how to prevent a $17,000 wireless bill which will result from your teenager using Snapchat for 30 days without Wi-Fi.

WHY is this feature necessary? And what is deemed “too slow”? Are we really sooooo desperate for our tiny hand computers to work sooooo much faster that we will allow our pocketbooks to be manipulated?

This was designed by a wireless carrier. I’m 114% convinced of it.

And all of this distraction makes me think of any movie where something takes us over with relative ease…

            Machines, Birds, Sharks, Spiders, The Borg…

Because we are distracted by things like slow internet and possibly having Facebook “steal” our posts or worse…having to pay for social media that didn’t even exist 10 years ago on our tiny miracle computer phones that have barely been around for 5.

Kind of makes a girl want to unplug.

But then how would you read this blog? 

Ex Nihilo

I have office hours now. 

They have evolved over the last month as I have been working to create this habit of writing every day. As you may recall, my “office” is actually my kitchen table. A space that is my nemesis (because its position just inside our backdoor makes it a landing spot for all kinds of crap) but also my creative space so I’ve embellished my end of the table with some objects meant to inspire…a candle, a bowl of random objects in a pottery bowl that I made. And some snacks because a girl’s gotta eat.

Having regular hours (9:00-12:00 on weekdays and whatever I can steal in the afternoon some weekends) has helped my brain become ready to write at the same time each day. It’s a trick a learned from Anne Lamott in her book Bird By Bird. I usually spend the earlier hours – the non-running hours between 5:00 and 9:00 am – on the internet and most days there are a multitude of ideas that pop into my head just from scanning Facebook. Today, I was sure that the enchanted Super Blood Moon last night was going to transform via alchemy into some sort of SUPER POST today. Muses love magic so my confidence was high as I plopped onto the sofa with my iPad.

No such luck. I just didn’t see anything particularly inspiring.  Nothing that maked my legs start twitching causing me to get up and walk over to my laptop. Not as single detail that made me feel like I had something to say. What I did find were no less than 25 pictures of the eclipse from last night. They were mostly blurry and frankly just looked like a regular moon. There was nothing that looked like what I saw.

We had pretty significant cloud cover for most of the evening as the earth moved in between the moon and the sun, so our view was obscured. My husband and I sat patiently (that’s unusual for me) just to catch a glimpse as it occasionally peeked through the clouds. The kids came in and out the back door to try and see it. My dad and I texted back and forth and he shared some of the photos he had captured through clear skies in Northern Virginia. I tried to take some photos myself and had no luck.

As the active eclipsing entered its final minutes, there was a large break in the clouds and my husband and I sat staring as the last sliver of light disappeared leaving only a faint outline on the lower right side of the moon. And then more clouds.

Lots of them.

In fact, as I scanned the night sky to the South, there was nothing but thick clouds moving toward the North…it seemed our view was going to be blocked for some time. I really wanted to watch as the left side of the moon started to emerge (because I was under the impression that things would just keep moving), but it was past my bedtime and I had a 4:15am alarm set for this morning. So I headed off to bed.

As I was lying in bed waiting to become sleepy, I glanced through my Facebook feed to see who else was watching and if anyone had captured any photos. Um…yes. Feed FULL of blurry smartphone photos and comments from friends all over the nation. In Connecticut, it was clear and someone got a pretty good picture. Friends in Texas could see clearly that it was indeed blood red – no picture though. Others in Northwest Arkansas, Florida, Atlanta…all of us watching the same thing through our own filters.

I briefly lamented not being able to capture such a moment on film, but then decided that my particular view had been just for me and I decided to be content with my unique gift from the moon. Then, for a longer moment, I recognized the significance of a single instant in which so many people – separated by so many miles – were all looking up into the same sky at the same object.

All of us contemplating something so rare that it hasn’t happened since I was 9 and won’t happen again until (God willing) I am 75.

I decided to check one last time to see if the other side of the moon was beginning to appear – one final grasp for my own view of this marvelous sight that everyone was looking at. I got out of my nest, walked to the window, and pulled the curtains aside. At first glance, I was disappointed to see nothing where the moon had been before, but as I scanned upward I saw it – because of course it had moved. All the clouds were gone and there was a red, completely eclipsed full moon.

I don’t think the sight itself was particularly extraordinary. I wouldn’t say that it took my breath away or made me want to take a picture of it. It looked like the moon…without the light…tinted red…as with a sepia filter. It certainly was different, but it paled in comparison to the filtered professional photos of blood moons (sans eclipse) that are a dime a dozen on the Internet. Nevertheless, I continued to stare at it…I couldn’t look away.

After lying back down, I actually got back up twice more to look at it, not really knowing why. Was there comfort in this moment of solidarity among all the people who were looking up and seeing the exact same thing? Is that what drew my attention? Was the real magic in the reality that we were all looking at it together? It was a solidarity virus that would spread across the planet overnight like a wave of unity that swept everyone into the same upward gaze.

And it wasn’t everyone watching the same thing on TV at the same time – like a royal wedding or coverage of a disaster. There’s a difference between a large number of people watching a program that is being televised on millions of TV screens and a large number of people in the same room watching the same TV screen. This eclipse was like millions of people in the same room watching the same show on the same gigantic TV screen. We all had different perspectives, but we were all looking directly at the same object with their own eyes.

That’s pretty extraordinary in a world where we are all so focused on what separates us from everyone else.

And it continued throughout the night and into this morning. In North and South America, we saw it at sunset last night. Africa, Europe and the Middle East all awoke early to view it just before sunrise. Everyone gazing upon the same moon, each with a different perspective on it. In some places it was cold and in others, hot. Some places had clouds, others had clear skies. Some were unable to see it at all because of the weather, but still gazed upward toward the moon hoping to join us for the show.

Unanimity. Harmony. Human consonance…Ex Nihilo. Out of Nothing.

Sort of like this blog post. It turns out I did have something to say.