After a week and a half in Europe, here's the top line.
1. We love being here, watching and talking with all sorts of people, relaxing over long meals with a lot of inexpensive wine in out-of-the-way sidewalk restaurants. We sat down next to a young couple from Scotland at lunch the other day and ended up spending two and a half hours talking, getting a look at each others' worlds, promising to stay in touch. You can't beat that.
2. Don't try to find a hotel in Rome after dark ... especially driving. Two times, once in Rome, the other in Florence, we were pretty sure we'd never get there. We were totally lost. On the other hand, if you're willing to ask -- and believe me, I do desperate American very well -- everyone seems willing to help, even when you have no language in common except the language of humanity. And you have an adventure to store away.
In some ways, the sites give you good reason spend a week in Malta and a week in Florence, but all the experiences along the way are the reason you go.
More soon.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Sometimes it feels crazy because it is.
I took in a writers’ seminar last weekend. Not writer as in, “There’s one great book in everyone and I’m about to write mine.” But as in, “We’ve invited a bunch of great writers to come and speak.” It was a wonderfully stimulating day.
The featured speaker was Anne Lamott. If you haven’t read her “Bird by Bird,” it’s a classic blend of how to write and what you learn about yourself in the process. You don’t have to be a writer to read it. Put it on your list.
If you’ve read any of her stuff, Anne Lamott is very open about how crazy she is — OCD, addiction and general weirdness. (Yes, she’d say that.) She’s bright, talented, funny and an unreconstructed hippie.
Hearing her reminded me why I value my wife so much — not the only reason, but one of the reasons. My wife is wired concrete and practical while I’m wired conceptual and, if you’ve read earlier blog entries, usually anxious.
While I love a lot of the stuff Anne Lamott writes — she’s got a remarkably robust grasp of reality — if I’d married someone like her, they’d have both of us locked up by now.
It reminded me that a lot of what we think and feel is shaped by the emotive atmosphere and how we interact with it.
One of my children ran away from school one day in the third or fourth grade. (I never get the details right.) We were relieved when he was found hiding in field just a block from the school, yet alarmed by the entire episode. It was only later, when we heard that his teacher was edging up on a major manic-depressive episode (difficult and sad), that we realized the runaway was actually an escape of sorts.
A lot of life’s craziness is not so crazy when you can get some perspective.
The point? Or points?
1. I’m very fortunate to have married a complementary personality. We sure didn’t know what we were doing at the time. Or maybe we did, intuitively. (A friend of ours from West Virginia likes to say, “Even a blind hog finds an acorn once in while.”)
2. Sometimes the emotive atmosphere virtually precludes success. Or it becomes such a big part of what's going on, success is difficult. Projects, relationships, businesses, events … things sometimes fail because, with the people in the room at the time, the odds of a productive outcome are greatly reduced. We've all been there.
3. Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird” — you must read it.
The featured speaker was Anne Lamott. If you haven’t read her “Bird by Bird,” it’s a classic blend of how to write and what you learn about yourself in the process. You don’t have to be a writer to read it. Put it on your list.
If you’ve read any of her stuff, Anne Lamott is very open about how crazy she is — OCD, addiction and general weirdness. (Yes, she’d say that.) She’s bright, talented, funny and an unreconstructed hippie.
Hearing her reminded me why I value my wife so much — not the only reason, but one of the reasons. My wife is wired concrete and practical while I’m wired conceptual and, if you’ve read earlier blog entries, usually anxious.
While I love a lot of the stuff Anne Lamott writes — she’s got a remarkably robust grasp of reality — if I’d married someone like her, they’d have both of us locked up by now.
It reminded me that a lot of what we think and feel is shaped by the emotive atmosphere and how we interact with it.
One of my children ran away from school one day in the third or fourth grade. (I never get the details right.) We were relieved when he was found hiding in field just a block from the school, yet alarmed by the entire episode. It was only later, when we heard that his teacher was edging up on a major manic-depressive episode (difficult and sad), that we realized the runaway was actually an escape of sorts.
A lot of life’s craziness is not so crazy when you can get some perspective.
The point? Or points?
1. I’m very fortunate to have married a complementary personality. We sure didn’t know what we were doing at the time. Or maybe we did, intuitively. (A friend of ours from West Virginia likes to say, “Even a blind hog finds an acorn once in while.”)
2. Sometimes the emotive atmosphere virtually precludes success. Or it becomes such a big part of what's going on, success is difficult. Projects, relationships, businesses, events … things sometimes fail because, with the people in the room at the time, the odds of a productive outcome are greatly reduced. We've all been there.
3. Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird” — you must read it.
Friday, October 9, 2009
The undeserving poor.
Our church is associated with the overnight homeless shelter in our town. Giving financial support and, one month a year, taking the overflow from the shelter. Families who need a place to spend the night and can’t fit in the shelter spend the evening and sleep in a place we’ve set up in the youth room at church. We staff it with volunteers.
I did that one night this week. It’s really no sacrifice on my part. The way it tends to work out, I spend the evening playing with the littlest kids, trying to give tired moms and dads a little relief, reading stories and just doing whatever the kids want to do.
I don’t mention this because there’s anything heroic about what I add to the process. I mention it because it’s a humbling experience and a bit of reality I usually avoid.
I can’t imagine trying to keep your life together in that situation. There were a few teenagers this time. They headed off to a side room to work on homework — life goes on whether or not you have a place to live.
While I understand not everyone can be rescued from some of their own decisions, these folks seem more like victims of a lot of circumstances that severely limit their choices.
I was reading recently about a political struggle going on in California, I think it was, about whether or not to extend unemployment benefits again for people who simply aren’t finding jobs. Someone was arguing that further extending already extended benefits would take away the incentive to look for work.
I understand the crunch we’re in. But that sounded a bit like something I mention a few entries back, about watching out for people who say they’re doing something “for your own good.”
I have nothing profound to add here. It was a sobering night, one I'd rather avoid, but need to keep doing. "The undeserving poor," as they were described in Dickens' day, don't look as undeserving when they're four years old and sitting in your lap.
I did that one night this week. It’s really no sacrifice on my part. The way it tends to work out, I spend the evening playing with the littlest kids, trying to give tired moms and dads a little relief, reading stories and just doing whatever the kids want to do.
I don’t mention this because there’s anything heroic about what I add to the process. I mention it because it’s a humbling experience and a bit of reality I usually avoid.
I can’t imagine trying to keep your life together in that situation. There were a few teenagers this time. They headed off to a side room to work on homework — life goes on whether or not you have a place to live.
While I understand not everyone can be rescued from some of their own decisions, these folks seem more like victims of a lot of circumstances that severely limit their choices.
I was reading recently about a political struggle going on in California, I think it was, about whether or not to extend unemployment benefits again for people who simply aren’t finding jobs. Someone was arguing that further extending already extended benefits would take away the incentive to look for work.
I understand the crunch we’re in. But that sounded a bit like something I mention a few entries back, about watching out for people who say they’re doing something “for your own good.”
I have nothing profound to add here. It was a sobering night, one I'd rather avoid, but need to keep doing. "The undeserving poor," as they were described in Dickens' day, don't look as undeserving when they're four years old and sitting in your lap.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Not now, I'm busy.
Our California daughter has been great at posting pictures and updates, keeping us abreast of our 22-month-old granddaughter’s unfolding life.
Last night, our granddaughter was plunked down in front of the computer watching something. When called to dinner, she, who was barely understandable a few weeks ago, calmly told her mom, “Not now, I’m busy.”
Somehow the image of the little child, the computer and the cool comment captures something about generational change.
We’re headed off on a brief European trip in a few weeks, and I was remembering the first time we traveled there. I was 26 on that first trip and remember clearly the shocking discovery that there was a whole world out there that didn’t know me or anyone I knew or the way I lived or what I believed was important—and didn’t care.
Somehow I don’t think it will take my granddaughter that many years to make that discovery. In fact she’s busy finding it out already.
Last night, our granddaughter was plunked down in front of the computer watching something. When called to dinner, she, who was barely understandable a few weeks ago, calmly told her mom, “Not now, I’m busy.”
Somehow the image of the little child, the computer and the cool comment captures something about generational change.
We’re headed off on a brief European trip in a few weeks, and I was remembering the first time we traveled there. I was 26 on that first trip and remember clearly the shocking discovery that there was a whole world out there that didn’t know me or anyone I knew or the way I lived or what I believed was important—and didn’t care.
Somehow I don’t think it will take my granddaughter that many years to make that discovery. In fact she’s busy finding it out already.
When you're sure.
A great warning from a new book:
When you’re sure of what you’re looking at, look harder.
- from GENEROSITY by RICHARD POWERS
I'm looking forward to reading it.
When you’re sure of what you’re looking at, look harder.
- from GENEROSITY by RICHARD POWERS
I'm looking forward to reading it.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Warning: bike-rage
Some of my best friends are bicyclists, but ….
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The anxious mind
The lead article in next Sunday’s New York Times Magazine is entitled, Understanding the Anxious Mind.
They always run the lead article early. Here’s the web address for this one: nytimes.com/2009/10/04/magazine/04anxiety-t.html?_r=1&em.
In the most general sense, it’s an exploration of the old nature-nurture dialog. With the rapid advances in brain biology, there’s a lot of research going on concerning the question of inherited traits. We know physical traits are inherited. It’s accepted that I’m 6’ 4” because I’ve got tall uncles. Does that mean some personality traits are hardwired too?
This became fascinating for me when we had our children. Virtually from the womb we thought we saw inherited psychological traits. Was that fact or merely over-interpreted projection? That’s what this area of research is about.
And for me, this particular article is very personal. That's because it focuses on one aspect of trait inheritance: anxiety.
One of the key discoveries of my life was that I, unlike most other people around me, wake up afraid every morning. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in the day, the first waking experience is fear.
Isolating that fact allowed me to explore, understand and create strategies to deal with a lot of other factors in my life — and understand why I feel that way so much of the time. This was a central piece of information for me.
That’s what this article is about. For those of you who find compulsive anxiety foreign territory, this article may help you get some insight into a friend or loved-one's behavior. For those of you wired more like me, this research is fascinating — and perhaps invaluable.
They always run the lead article early. Here’s the web address for this one: nytimes.com/2009/10/04/magazine/04anxiety-t.html?_r=1&em.
In the most general sense, it’s an exploration of the old nature-nurture dialog. With the rapid advances in brain biology, there’s a lot of research going on concerning the question of inherited traits. We know physical traits are inherited. It’s accepted that I’m 6’ 4” because I’ve got tall uncles. Does that mean some personality traits are hardwired too?
This became fascinating for me when we had our children. Virtually from the womb we thought we saw inherited psychological traits. Was that fact or merely over-interpreted projection? That’s what this area of research is about.
And for me, this particular article is very personal. That's because it focuses on one aspect of trait inheritance: anxiety.
One of the key discoveries of my life was that I, unlike most other people around me, wake up afraid every morning. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in the day, the first waking experience is fear.
Isolating that fact allowed me to explore, understand and create strategies to deal with a lot of other factors in my life — and understand why I feel that way so much of the time. This was a central piece of information for me.
That’s what this article is about. For those of you who find compulsive anxiety foreign territory, this article may help you get some insight into a friend or loved-one's behavior. For those of you wired more like me, this research is fascinating — and perhaps invaluable.
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