It's been quite a while since my last post, primarily because I have been completely inundated with work...isn't that good to hear? It's not that I'm bragging, though I am aware how lucky I am to be working again. But, it's the realization that in a role like mine, hiring for companies, that news has an impact like a laser beam tearing through this murky, unyielding job market like a big jagged rip of light through a cloudy, starless night. I'm psyched! Every time I make an offer it's like throwing out a life preserver to a very grateful survivor. Granted, it's not my boat, but I am enjoying the cruise.
Funny thing about boats though, it's a struggle to find your balance. Once you do, it's walking on land again that feels odd. Balance; it's a perception that can change based on where your standing. I've been working so much lately that an hour with my kids in the evening feels something like a balance between work and home. I have worked strictly from home for five years, offering plenty of opportunity for a reasonable work/life balance. Keeping a balance while working at home for some might be finding the discipline every day to put in a full eight hours at your desk when you could just as easily be tackling the laundry, the gardening or answering another of ten thousand calls to action that you hear from every corner of your home life. For me, keeping balance means trying to wrap up a last minute call in order to dash down the stairs, eat dinner(without choking or working up a case of indigestion), only to run back up the stairs right after to take another call, check emails and respond to yet another inquiry from an excited/anxious candidate, and be available to help put the kids to bed...at 8:30 p.m. My day started at 6:00 with checking and responding to emails...and it pretty much ends the same way 14 hours later. It's partly self-induced, and partly due to the needs of the business. I love to be busy, to feel engaged and involved...and invested. At the end of the day, I'm serving people and I'm getting paid to do something I love. Balance is somewhat of a luxury for me right now, and unfortunately, because of the nature of my work, I miss out on a lot.
There's an image of a see/saw in my head sometimes when I think about the lack of balance in my life. I wonder whether the life side will ever strike a static parallel position to the work side and the ground. I don't know if that's even reasonable to consider. There's a part of me that truly believes there's really no such thing as work/life balance...it's just a concept designed to make us feel guilty about not making time for other people or purposes in our lives. Making us feel as though there are more balls than hands to catch them, but you must try, try, try...even though you know its a fool's game. I do believe in give and take though, and I also believe in creating moments instead of waiting for them to happen. Setting the stage for a memorable day is something I have become very good at, and I'm not ashamed to admit that my kids are totally aware when I'm doing it. But I think it's important to point out to children those moments that are not ordinary, and how to recognize when love is leaning right up against your shoulder. Throw your arm around it quick, before its gets away from you! I'll date myself a bit and say I live for these "Kodak Moments".
........
I am now finishing this post...four years later...and sometimes miss the days when the phone was ringing non-stop. I have found that magic balance between home and life. I got what I wished for...and I know the risks and rewards of it. While my business has decidedly taken a back seat to my life, I no longer make impulse purchases or book weekend getaways "just because". We're watching our pennies, dimes, nickels and every bit of currency we earn. The flip side is that our relationship has never been better, our kids never happier, our hearts never healthier. I may never be much more than a one-woman show with a manageable book of business, and that's ok. But I'll also never from a lack of love, food or happiness.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Up with the Birds, or The "Selfish" Mom
Most mornings I am up by 5:30, latest. I don't require an alarm anymore, unless you want to consider my hard-core commuting husband an early "morning" system. Since his bid for a flexible work schedule was granted in mid 2013, I find it increasingly more difficult to sleep past 5:00 am, which is about the time he is leaving the house for his job in Lexington. From 5 to 6 am is my time for contemplation, meditation and self-devotion. That may sound excessive, especially for a business owner with two very active elementary school-aged children, but I expect I am not alone in my daily ritual of "prayer" and introspection. I know a few people (mostly women) who spend hours each week flexing internal spiritual muscle and toning self-awareness. I hope they also share my attitude about spending time on oneself.
Sadly, it's not only common, it is long considered a social norm for women to put themselves last on the list of healthy personal engagement. I know too many Moms who declare they just don't have the time to work out, meditate, or read a good book. So when I talk about my "self-involved self-evolvement", it's not to compare value systems as much as to evaluate the effectiveness of a strong spiritual program. I really do wonder how other Mom's maintain physical/psychological/emotional balance if they aren't taking care of themselves. Do they all just get together and drink a lot of wine like on so many television shows? Don't get me wrong, I do like my wide-bulb glass of red something. But I need more than just an occasional night out with the girls to blow off a little steam. I need something lasting. And I have it!
Last year I was introduced to a book by Marianne Williamson called "A Return to Love". My sister-in-law sent it to me after a long, heart-felt conversation about my second separation from my husband. She had trouble describing it to me, likely because I was only half listening. I came away from that phone call thinking this was perhaps an attempt to convert me to Christianity. (While she is a born-again Christian, and we have had some spirited debates, KC has never really pushed her philosophies on me.) But I trusted she knew us well enough to know what the problem was, and even though she's no marriage counselor, she is an extremely good listener. Maybe this was an opening and an opportunity to show me why my marriage was a mess. And at this point, I was willing to try anything.
I opened the package the moment it hit my mail box, cracked the cover, and can say for the first time since reading my first Stephen King novel, I could NOT put it down. She was absolutely right, it was nothing like what I imagined it would be. It was not a self-help book on how to love your husband. It was not a guide to the perfect marriage or the latest celebrity guru offering nebulous, well intentioned advice on how your big problem all boiled down to a lack of sex. It had nothing whatsoever to do with fixing my marriage. It had everything to do with fixing my relationship with myself through fixing my relationship with (gulp) God.
It was an addicting read with a page-turning quality I had not experienced in years. And, as it turns out, there was nothing really wrong with either of us. We just had the wrong idea about what real love is, and what it isn't.
Now, if you know me, you know nothing will turn my stomach faster than bible thumping, sermon-filled monotheistic, cult-promoting organized religion. But that's what made this book special. There's nothing 'organized religion' about it. There is no set doctrine or belief system you have to adhere to get something out of it. It's a very simple statement of a simple fact. You have a direct, one-to-one relationship to a higher power. There is no middleman. There are no rules to how you must use it.
Just use it. Voila!!
If you ascribe to the stereotypical Zeus-like figure in cloud-colored robes rolling about the heavens and throwing his weight around, that's cool! Or maybe you prefer a more modern interpretation of a loving, light-filled, non-gender specific being...maybe even one that influences the weather, and all your decisions without your even being aware of it. Great! Or, perhaps you're even more ambivalent about religion, and just a strong believer in equal treatment and justice for all. Fantastic! But where ever you land on the spectrum, almost everyone believes in some force greater than themselves. And, if you don't, that's fine too....but I just have to wonder what YOU yell out in bed.
In any case, I'm surrounded by people who are church-going, doctrine-abiding, lay theologians in their own right. But I like to remain a free agent. Regardless, it seems people who have a regular spiritual program handle life's up and downs just a bit better than people who don't. Not to over simplify, but this makes me wonder if its only a matter of priority and perspective? I treat my spiritual "daily bread" as though it were part of my exercise routine. It's just something I do because it feels good and contributes to a happier day. Not that every day is guaranteed to be an absolute joy fest, but there's something to be said for having the emotional flexibility and foundation to roll with the punches, take the bumps and bruises, and keep on going. Especially when the hits just keep on coming, and bed time is another six hours away!
For me, it is both a matter of virtue and vindication to not get hung up on the irritations and minor infractions others may/may not intend to drop on my doorstep. That doesn't mean I always succeed. But I keep trying. If not just a matter of letting go of my ego, I need also to let go of the desire to personalize an injury. In other words, for a person who prefers to remain in good emotional balance, it becomes a habit of letting themselves and others "off the hook" for the minor and major trespasses done by them, or to them by others. After all, maybe what someone said/did had absolutely nothing to do with you. They're just having a bad day, and you happen to be a witness. And that's all you need to take with you. Leave the rest on the doorstep. The trash truck of time will be along shortly to haul it away.
More importantly, this kind of "love thy neighbor" good will is just as effective when applied to yourself. By listening closely to your inner dialogue and identifying those "voices" that are so mean you would never consider inviting them into your kitchen for coffee, you can get a lot of mental peace by showing them the door the moment they show up. Clearing accusations against yourself and others, and forgiving...on the spot...someone's misuse of your good will allows you to go about your day with a clear mind. Staying present and not reliving the past moments or thinking about how you 'coulda, woulda, shoulda' allows you a faster and more direct route to true perspective. Worry, regret, resentment...all keep a person tethered to a past moment and the future. Well, you're not in either of those places, are you? So, why "dwell" there? Staying attuned to what is going on right now is the key to happiness.
My final thought on self-evolvement: It is not selfish at all, it is actually self-less. What looks like daily naval gazing is actually a deep commitment to mankind. Asking for guidance on how to be a better person so that you can contribute your good works to the earth, and it's people, is an investment of yourself that pays major dividends to everyone around you. And even if you are praying for a new job, a reliable general contractor or a lottery win, hopefully you are spreading around some good karmic vibes while you're at it. But even if you don't meditate, I will tell you it's amazing what you can see, hear and feel at 5 o'clock in the morning.
Wine, Women and Wisdom: I usually end my blog posts with a wine suggestion. But as I've become more thoughtful about my diet, I don't have anything to suggest but this play on words:
"Abstinence makes the mind not wander"
Sadly, it's not only common, it is long considered a social norm for women to put themselves last on the list of healthy personal engagement. I know too many Moms who declare they just don't have the time to work out, meditate, or read a good book. So when I talk about my "self-involved self-evolvement", it's not to compare value systems as much as to evaluate the effectiveness of a strong spiritual program. I really do wonder how other Mom's maintain physical/psychological/emotional balance if they aren't taking care of themselves. Do they all just get together and drink a lot of wine like on so many television shows? Don't get me wrong, I do like my wide-bulb glass of red something. But I need more than just an occasional night out with the girls to blow off a little steam. I need something lasting. And I have it!
Last year I was introduced to a book by Marianne Williamson called "A Return to Love". My sister-in-law sent it to me after a long, heart-felt conversation about my second separation from my husband. She had trouble describing it to me, likely because I was only half listening. I came away from that phone call thinking this was perhaps an attempt to convert me to Christianity. (While she is a born-again Christian, and we have had some spirited debates, KC has never really pushed her philosophies on me.) But I trusted she knew us well enough to know what the problem was, and even though she's no marriage counselor, she is an extremely good listener. Maybe this was an opening and an opportunity to show me why my marriage was a mess. And at this point, I was willing to try anything.
I opened the package the moment it hit my mail box, cracked the cover, and can say for the first time since reading my first Stephen King novel, I could NOT put it down. She was absolutely right, it was nothing like what I imagined it would be. It was not a self-help book on how to love your husband. It was not a guide to the perfect marriage or the latest celebrity guru offering nebulous, well intentioned advice on how your big problem all boiled down to a lack of sex. It had nothing whatsoever to do with fixing my marriage. It had everything to do with fixing my relationship with myself through fixing my relationship with (gulp) God.
It was an addicting read with a page-turning quality I had not experienced in years. And, as it turns out, there was nothing really wrong with either of us. We just had the wrong idea about what real love is, and what it isn't.
Now, if you know me, you know nothing will turn my stomach faster than bible thumping, sermon-filled monotheistic, cult-promoting organized religion. But that's what made this book special. There's nothing 'organized religion' about it. There is no set doctrine or belief system you have to adhere to get something out of it. It's a very simple statement of a simple fact. You have a direct, one-to-one relationship to a higher power. There is no middleman. There are no rules to how you must use it.
Just use it. Voila!!
If you ascribe to the stereotypical Zeus-like figure in cloud-colored robes rolling about the heavens and throwing his weight around, that's cool! Or maybe you prefer a more modern interpretation of a loving, light-filled, non-gender specific being...maybe even one that influences the weather, and all your decisions without your even being aware of it. Great! Or, perhaps you're even more ambivalent about religion, and just a strong believer in equal treatment and justice for all. Fantastic! But where ever you land on the spectrum, almost everyone believes in some force greater than themselves. And, if you don't, that's fine too....but I just have to wonder what YOU yell out in bed.
In any case, I'm surrounded by people who are church-going, doctrine-abiding, lay theologians in their own right. But I like to remain a free agent. Regardless, it seems people who have a regular spiritual program handle life's up and downs just a bit better than people who don't. Not to over simplify, but this makes me wonder if its only a matter of priority and perspective? I treat my spiritual "daily bread" as though it were part of my exercise routine. It's just something I do because it feels good and contributes to a happier day. Not that every day is guaranteed to be an absolute joy fest, but there's something to be said for having the emotional flexibility and foundation to roll with the punches, take the bumps and bruises, and keep on going. Especially when the hits just keep on coming, and bed time is another six hours away!
For me, it is both a matter of virtue and vindication to not get hung up on the irritations and minor infractions others may/may not intend to drop on my doorstep. That doesn't mean I always succeed. But I keep trying. If not just a matter of letting go of my ego, I need also to let go of the desire to personalize an injury. In other words, for a person who prefers to remain in good emotional balance, it becomes a habit of letting themselves and others "off the hook" for the minor and major trespasses done by them, or to them by others. After all, maybe what someone said/did had absolutely nothing to do with you. They're just having a bad day, and you happen to be a witness. And that's all you need to take with you. Leave the rest on the doorstep. The trash truck of time will be along shortly to haul it away.
More importantly, this kind of "love thy neighbor" good will is just as effective when applied to yourself. By listening closely to your inner dialogue and identifying those "voices" that are so mean you would never consider inviting them into your kitchen for coffee, you can get a lot of mental peace by showing them the door the moment they show up. Clearing accusations against yourself and others, and forgiving...on the spot...someone's misuse of your good will allows you to go about your day with a clear mind. Staying present and not reliving the past moments or thinking about how you 'coulda, woulda, shoulda' allows you a faster and more direct route to true perspective. Worry, regret, resentment...all keep a person tethered to a past moment and the future. Well, you're not in either of those places, are you? So, why "dwell" there? Staying attuned to what is going on right now is the key to happiness.
My final thought on self-evolvement: It is not selfish at all, it is actually self-less. What looks like daily naval gazing is actually a deep commitment to mankind. Asking for guidance on how to be a better person so that you can contribute your good works to the earth, and it's people, is an investment of yourself that pays major dividends to everyone around you. And even if you are praying for a new job, a reliable general contractor or a lottery win, hopefully you are spreading around some good karmic vibes while you're at it. But even if you don't meditate, I will tell you it's amazing what you can see, hear and feel at 5 o'clock in the morning.
Wine, Women and Wisdom: I usually end my blog posts with a wine suggestion. But as I've become more thoughtful about my diet, I don't have anything to suggest but this play on words:
"Abstinence makes the mind not wander"
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Untitled Post
(Let this blank page stay here to represent all the moments I had something profound to say but not the time to express them. I think we have too many "blank page" moments...place holders for as yet unshared experiences)
The Wisdom of Snow
Written 12/14/2013
In Memory of the Victims of Sandy Hook
When you are called to the window by your childlike instinct
or the insistence of your child...to witness, to wonder, to watch
Each fluttering, floating, completely unique flake fall from
heights beyond sight and comprehensions, and we feel
our hearts soar with possibility, and delight at the knowledge.
Too many to count, too quick to move past us, too full to contain;
too much like our selves. Countless numbers of souls around us,
like the infinite number of snowflakes we will encounter and pass.
From the pane of your window, to the pain in your heart, you
move from the inside to the outside...the only way to truly see.
Catching at the corner of your eye, clinging to a lash or two -
face tilted, tongue extending...naturally; 10 years old again.
We find it a simple joy, as easy as pie for breakfast, cartoons
on a Saturday morning - cozy slippers shuffling on a wood floor.
Coffee mug in hand. We are still transfixed by it somehow.
The wisdom of snow, like the wise woman in the child of 10.
The beauty, majesty and unmistakable peace of a snowfall
reminding us of the rapturous wonder and intimate playfulness
of nature, love and life.
By Karen Biscoe-Dufour
In Memory of the Victims of Sandy Hook
When you are called to the window by your childlike instinct
or the insistence of your child...to witness, to wonder, to watch
Each fluttering, floating, completely unique flake fall from
heights beyond sight and comprehensions, and we feel
our hearts soar with possibility, and delight at the knowledge.
Too many to count, too quick to move past us, too full to contain;
too much like our selves. Countless numbers of souls around us,
like the infinite number of snowflakes we will encounter and pass.
From the pane of your window, to the pain in your heart, you
move from the inside to the outside...the only way to truly see.
Catching at the corner of your eye, clinging to a lash or two -
face tilted, tongue extending...naturally; 10 years old again.
We find it a simple joy, as easy as pie for breakfast, cartoons
on a Saturday morning - cozy slippers shuffling on a wood floor.
Coffee mug in hand. We are still transfixed by it somehow.
The wisdom of snow, like the wise woman in the child of 10.
The beauty, majesty and unmistakable peace of a snowfall
reminding us of the rapturous wonder and intimate playfulness
of nature, love and life.
By Karen Biscoe-Dufour
Monday, August 12, 2013
Mars: A nice fixer-upper planet if you don't mind the trip.
I miss writing these blogs. Most of my writing now is for my business, Green Search Partner. The passion I have for writing about green, environmental, social, and spiritual issues has not been forsaken, though! I'm writing regularly on professional hiring issues, but it's not as fulfilling as this blog feels...mostly because this one is uncensored :)!
Let me begin with the inspiration for this piece: Tonight at 6:30 p.m. I pulled into the parking lot of a favorite Chinese takeout restaurant. Not bad Chinese either. I would say it's consistently middle-of-the-road cuisine (Harry will appreciate the inside joke). This place is so popular for it's takeout that the owners removed most of the tables a few years ago, replacing them with a wall-mounted television, pin ball machines and quarter-slot candy/trinket dispensers, because that is about how much time you have between ordering and receiving your dinner.
When parking I noticed the only other car in the lot was a 2010 Ford Mustang. Black, glossy, well cared for, and occupied by two fresh-faced, baseball-capped teenagers. They paid little to no attention to me and the kids as we climbed out of the car, noisily chatting about whatever a Mom, a 9 year old and an 11 year old noisily chatter about. I noticed the car, so did the kids, then I noticed the occupants. They were sitting there, engine off, with their heads bent down over their smart phones like most teenagers and 20 somethings these days. At least, that's what I figured each was holding...until I got a little closer.
Now, this probably sounds like the build up to a shocking, 'cover the children's eyes' moment. Nope, this is a PG-rated segment. What they were doing when we walked into the restaurant was fairly innocent. In fact, it was perfectly legal thrill-seeking. It was what they were doing when we came back out with our dinner that I found absolutely appalling. So appalling, in fact, I actually stopped to question, comment and lecture them some. My poor 9 year old was so offended he was rendered speechless.
These 'just on the other side of 16, so you ought to know better, and by the way, shame on you!' teenagers were scratching lottery tickets and then purposely throwing them out the window onto the ground next to the car! No, they were not aiming for a recycling pail and missing. No, they weren't putting them there for safe-keeping. They were littering the ground around the car...at least half a dozen on the driver's side, and who knows how many on the passenger side. Admittedly, they had no intention of picking them up! I truly thought they were kidding when they said they do this "all the time". Well, that explains a lot.
Who are these kids? Where are their parents? Do they know they have raised two lackadaisical, littering, loitering, lottery losers? Are they aware of the incredible amount of household trash strewing the streets of Whitman and choking the hell out of the vegetation? Of the garbage galavanting in the gutters and riding in the rivulets that run through town? If they do I expect they look the other way, or shut off their conscience as their eyes glance across the mess. Perhaps they even believe that there is a town clean up crew taking care of these things while they're out cruising to the next convenience store which surely holds their million dollar ticket.
And what would they do with that million dollars? Probably get the hell out of Whitman. Why? Because the only thing growing faster than the population here is the trash problem. Despite the current and older generation's multiple attempts to clean up the town's park and common areas, we're still dealing with a boat-load of improperly discarded waste, and a prevalent "it's not my trash, so it's not my problem" attitude. Furthermore, I doubt very much the town is going to issue lidded recycling bins in my lifetime.
Whitman's problems aside, I want to address the bigger issue of what we are teaching our kids at home about respecting this very old, very important planet of ours. I know many good people, friends actually, who still don't recycle on a regular basis. I witness people all around me caught up in the consumption of convenience items, but turning a blind eye to improper disposal of their waste. I watch the garbage truck go up the street, and the trash tippers chatting and laughing absentmindedly while papers, wrappers, plastic bottles and boxes fly out of the back of the truck and into my neighbor's yard. I wait until they are a few houses up, then I go outside and fetch the escaping item and put it in my own bin before the truck makes it's weekly u-turn for my side of the street. I know it's not my trash, but I live here too. If my neighbor were home, I know she would have picked it up. I know she would have done the same kindness for me had the situation been reversed.
What have you taught your kids about recycling and trash disposal? Do they ever ask you where all the stuff goes when it leaves the house? Did you get a chance to describe the overflowing landfills? Did you mention the millions of dirty diapers, milk containers, styrofoam coffee cups and take-out cartons? Have you tried but failed to describe the various colors and textures of plastic pieces and parts that have joined together to form a 3 mile wide island in the middle of the pacific ocean? Did you tell them not to worry? That we're working on it and we hope to leave them something closer to what we inherited from our parents 40, 50 or 60 years ago? Yes, I did too. And when my 9 year old asks me why people litter...a question I get from him almost weekly...I tell him "because they don't know any better". I say this instead of telling him the truth. If you tell a child "they do it because they just don't care" I'm afraid this might send the false message that we as a society maintain some sort of tolerance level for chronic abuse of the planet, and that living here together doesn't require that we all work together to keep it clean. I don't want him to grow up thinking that we own this place, and our occupancy of it is more of a right than a privilege.
I try very hard to instill in my children a sense of civic and social responsibility for the things we buy, consume, use and discard. I see a few of my friends and neighbors participating in their own civic and social responsibilities, but I know we may be outnumbered here by those who don't. In this seven square mile town, the dark and the light of these issues seem hopelessly intertwined. The parents who grew up here want to pass on the cultural and social norms of this once thriving, rural mill town. I know they want for their kids what they had; a small, safe, insulated community where everyone knew everyone else, and you could find your relatives gravestones in the town cemetery several generations past. They want the simpleness of all day long fun in the sun, huffy bikes populating quiet side streets and smiling neighbors greeting them in the parking lot of their church on Sunday mornings. They want to be surrounded still by a population they know and trust. But that's not what life is anymore, and we're grieving that loss. Now, it seems almost normal to see a still-smoldering cigarette butt or rolling beer can in the middle of South Ave on a Sunday afternoon. It seems like it's neither suspicious nor surprising. It seems now like it's just another sign that good old-fashioned American livin' is alive and well here. What a shame.
This town...this PLANET could be such a nice place if we took better care of it. My question is, if we don't take care of it, where are we going to live? I've heard Mars is a possibility...but it's a fixer upper, definitely not turn key like we have here, thick with oxygen, vegetation and livestock. And if the trip out there doesn't kill you, the relocation costs will.
Let me begin with the inspiration for this piece: Tonight at 6:30 p.m. I pulled into the parking lot of a favorite Chinese takeout restaurant. Not bad Chinese either. I would say it's consistently middle-of-the-road cuisine (Harry will appreciate the inside joke). This place is so popular for it's takeout that the owners removed most of the tables a few years ago, replacing them with a wall-mounted television, pin ball machines and quarter-slot candy/trinket dispensers, because that is about how much time you have between ordering and receiving your dinner.
When parking I noticed the only other car in the lot was a 2010 Ford Mustang. Black, glossy, well cared for, and occupied by two fresh-faced, baseball-capped teenagers. They paid little to no attention to me and the kids as we climbed out of the car, noisily chatting about whatever a Mom, a 9 year old and an 11 year old noisily chatter about. I noticed the car, so did the kids, then I noticed the occupants. They were sitting there, engine off, with their heads bent down over their smart phones like most teenagers and 20 somethings these days. At least, that's what I figured each was holding...until I got a little closer.
Now, this probably sounds like the build up to a shocking, 'cover the children's eyes' moment. Nope, this is a PG-rated segment. What they were doing when we walked into the restaurant was fairly innocent. In fact, it was perfectly legal thrill-seeking. It was what they were doing when we came back out with our dinner that I found absolutely appalling. So appalling, in fact, I actually stopped to question, comment and lecture them some. My poor 9 year old was so offended he was rendered speechless.
These 'just on the other side of 16, so you ought to know better, and by the way, shame on you!' teenagers were scratching lottery tickets and then purposely throwing them out the window onto the ground next to the car! No, they were not aiming for a recycling pail and missing. No, they weren't putting them there for safe-keeping. They were littering the ground around the car...at least half a dozen on the driver's side, and who knows how many on the passenger side. Admittedly, they had no intention of picking them up! I truly thought they were kidding when they said they do this "all the time". Well, that explains a lot.
Who are these kids? Where are their parents? Do they know they have raised two lackadaisical, littering, loitering, lottery losers? Are they aware of the incredible amount of household trash strewing the streets of Whitman and choking the hell out of the vegetation? Of the garbage galavanting in the gutters and riding in the rivulets that run through town? If they do I expect they look the other way, or shut off their conscience as their eyes glance across the mess. Perhaps they even believe that there is a town clean up crew taking care of these things while they're out cruising to the next convenience store which surely holds their million dollar ticket.
And what would they do with that million dollars? Probably get the hell out of Whitman. Why? Because the only thing growing faster than the population here is the trash problem. Despite the current and older generation's multiple attempts to clean up the town's park and common areas, we're still dealing with a boat-load of improperly discarded waste, and a prevalent "it's not my trash, so it's not my problem" attitude. Furthermore, I doubt very much the town is going to issue lidded recycling bins in my lifetime.
Whitman's problems aside, I want to address the bigger issue of what we are teaching our kids at home about respecting this very old, very important planet of ours. I know many good people, friends actually, who still don't recycle on a regular basis. I witness people all around me caught up in the consumption of convenience items, but turning a blind eye to improper disposal of their waste. I watch the garbage truck go up the street, and the trash tippers chatting and laughing absentmindedly while papers, wrappers, plastic bottles and boxes fly out of the back of the truck and into my neighbor's yard. I wait until they are a few houses up, then I go outside and fetch the escaping item and put it in my own bin before the truck makes it's weekly u-turn for my side of the street. I know it's not my trash, but I live here too. If my neighbor were home, I know she would have picked it up. I know she would have done the same kindness for me had the situation been reversed.
What have you taught your kids about recycling and trash disposal? Do they ever ask you where all the stuff goes when it leaves the house? Did you get a chance to describe the overflowing landfills? Did you mention the millions of dirty diapers, milk containers, styrofoam coffee cups and take-out cartons? Have you tried but failed to describe the various colors and textures of plastic pieces and parts that have joined together to form a 3 mile wide island in the middle of the pacific ocean? Did you tell them not to worry? That we're working on it and we hope to leave them something closer to what we inherited from our parents 40, 50 or 60 years ago? Yes, I did too. And when my 9 year old asks me why people litter...a question I get from him almost weekly...I tell him "because they don't know any better". I say this instead of telling him the truth. If you tell a child "they do it because they just don't care" I'm afraid this might send the false message that we as a society maintain some sort of tolerance level for chronic abuse of the planet, and that living here together doesn't require that we all work together to keep it clean. I don't want him to grow up thinking that we own this place, and our occupancy of it is more of a right than a privilege.
I try very hard to instill in my children a sense of civic and social responsibility for the things we buy, consume, use and discard. I see a few of my friends and neighbors participating in their own civic and social responsibilities, but I know we may be outnumbered here by those who don't. In this seven square mile town, the dark and the light of these issues seem hopelessly intertwined. The parents who grew up here want to pass on the cultural and social norms of this once thriving, rural mill town. I know they want for their kids what they had; a small, safe, insulated community where everyone knew everyone else, and you could find your relatives gravestones in the town cemetery several generations past. They want the simpleness of all day long fun in the sun, huffy bikes populating quiet side streets and smiling neighbors greeting them in the parking lot of their church on Sunday mornings. They want to be surrounded still by a population they know and trust. But that's not what life is anymore, and we're grieving that loss. Now, it seems almost normal to see a still-smoldering cigarette butt or rolling beer can in the middle of South Ave on a Sunday afternoon. It seems like it's neither suspicious nor surprising. It seems now like it's just another sign that good old-fashioned American livin' is alive and well here. What a shame.
This town...this PLANET could be such a nice place if we took better care of it. My question is, if we don't take care of it, where are we going to live? I've heard Mars is a possibility...but it's a fixer upper, definitely not turn key like we have here, thick with oxygen, vegetation and livestock. And if the trip out there doesn't kill you, the relocation costs will.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Green Collar Justice!!
I heard a piece on NPR the other day about a prison in
Brazil that implemented a program to offer inmates a gradual reduction of their
prison sentence by riding a stationary bike hooked up to a storage
battery. This green energy initiative may
well be the most innovative and simplest approach to supplementing the energy
supply of one town. Not surprising, the
idea originated in the United States, Arizona…to be specific. An Arizona sheriff implemented a program for
female inmates to trade one hour of pedaling for one hour of Television time. You know us Americans, we’ll do anything for
our favorite pastime!! In this case,
however, the inmates were tasked with riding stationary bikes hooked up to
electronic receptors that fed the local grid.
The amount of power they generated offered one small town enough
electricity to power one block of lights for a period of a few hours. It’s genius, and yet, it’s common sense. They get to tone up, their citizens get a
free hour or two of green power.
Basically, a win/win. Why not
require a specific demographic, in this case criminals, repay their debt to
society by doing good “green works” and giving back to society at large? Cycling is very good exercise, challenging those
who are likely dealing with some form of depression or anxiety to increase endorphins,
while simultaneously generating a renewable energy source that decreases our
reliance on fossil fuels. Considering
how our tax dollars provide the majority of funding support for our prison
systems, shouldn’t we all get something back?
I expect this suggestion may be interpreted as some sort of modern day
indentured servitude, but most (perhaps not all) of these people are in prison
by their own doing. They have violated another
citizen, an organization, or a law and are serving time for a reason. Why not allow them to serve their time,
especially in the case of white collar criminals, and pay their debt back to
society by doing actual good for mankind…or, more narrowly, their fellow
Americans? The very thought of seeing a
row of stationary bikes occupied by a long line of Wall Street and HSBC
executives, directly responsible for the downfall of our economy from 2008 to
present, pedaling their asses off in a large, fenced in prison yard sends me
into an almost ecstatic giddiness…a sense of delight and satisfaction only
replicated by a hearty dose of dark chocolate and incredibly good red wine. As it seems there is no ethical or moral
violation too great for one human being to justify (in this case, financial
professionals responsible for the ongoing worldwide economic crisis) in order
to achieve greater professional or financial status, it seems only fair to have
a legitimate and tangible method for these individuals to offset their personal
“toxic footprint”. Putting convicted
criminals on ‘grid bikes’ could subsidize a healthy percentage of our energy
use, assist in lowering our electric bills and offer America an opportunity to regain
its environmental balance.
Now, if you want to take it one step further, how about outfitting
their heads with a beanie…you know, the kind with a propeller? Think of all the
wind power they could generate without anyone worrying about damaging the local
ecosystems or putting up with ocean view obstructions...now that’s genius!
(If I were not so passionate about this idea, I would also
include a wine suggestion. Ok, you’re
right, I’ll get off my soap box now and make a wine suggestion. So, speaking of Brazil, I’ve got a few Latin “lovers”
in my wine cellar as well right now. This vexing little Spanish red called “PERIQUITA”
from Portugal drinks like a sophisticated Tinto. But for $8.80/bottle at Bin Ends in
Braintree, you can drink it any night of the week and still respect yourself in
the morning. Enjoy!)
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Be Careful What you Wish For; Christmas 2011
I remember being in love with the Christmas season many years ago. More than in love; passionately, head-over-heels buzzy, fanatically frantic, Lady GaGa “Bad Romance”, 12-Step program addicted to this season. This included the requisite Christmas Eve rush to the mall just to be among the other last-minute lunatics who enjoyed the manic marathon of midnight shopping. Then I’d be up to all hours wrapping gifts just so I could present each loved one with a tag, bag, bow and a story. Not a Christmas story, but a shopping story of the critical consideration invested into that elusive “perfect gift”….all to prove how much you mean to me.
If only I’d taken all that energy and funneled it into building a multi-million dollar empire! Imagine the gifts I’d be able to shower my loved ones with now! But, alas, hind sight is twenty-twenty. No regrets about how I spent Christmas’ past, or any other season for that matter. As I get older I actually get better at being able to look back and understand I was right where I was supposed to be, when I was meant to be there, my entire life. There were lessons to be learned, big and small, all year round. Thank goodness a lot of them have stuck. But even so, there are many more I continue to learn, and learn again. With some, it’s starting to feel like I could teach the course.
Just in time for the season of wishes, wants, intentions and resolutions, I’ve found an unwelcome re-realization coming about in my life that I felt important to share. And, for those of you who know about my personal circumstances over the past two and a half years, you’ll probably find this both humorous and hypocritical. After all the crying, hand-wringing, complaining, supporting, anxious days, weeks and months of teetering on the brink of financial crisis, my husband finally received an offer and accepted a full-time job. This well-deserved turn of events follows a grueling 30 months of unemployment, the last six without any support from the government. And despite how positively this new stability will impact our financial lives, I’m genuinely….well….sad.
The sense of abundance and relief felt after so many months of barely scraping by was sweet and overwhelmingly joyful….for about 2 days. But then the subway-train like screech of metal on metal braking resounded deeply in my head for the week following. That was the sound of the life to which I’d grown accustomed coming to a complete stop. I was finally going to get what I’d wished for, and I realized I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore.
Not wanting, but needing this stability, is a simple reality of our situation. Intellectually, rationally, emotionally, we all know this. But it doesn’t change the fact that our two children have had two at-home parents for almost three years, and neither of them recalls clearly a time when both of us weren’t there when they got on or off the school bus. Despite the fact that we’ve explained many times how very unique and special our arrangement, educating them on how few families enjoy this privilege… the true understanding of our good fortune won’t be realized until a few weeks into this new arrangement. And I dread the transition on so many levels, for so many reasons, I can’t even begin to explain it in one blog post. But I will say this; I’m losing my right arm, left leg, grocery runner, gardener, laundry service, and lunch companion. Worse, the kids are losing their summer weekday beach-buddy, winter-break sledding Sherpa, kitchen-table tutor, fake wrestling coach and short-order breakfast cook…well, Monday through Friday anyways.
While self-employed, I tend to work very long hours and the busiest part of my day tends to run between 2:00 and 6:00 p.m. When I have west coast clients, I will work as late as 9:00 p.m., even on those days that start around 5:30 a.m. EST. I have been able to work as many as fifteen hours a day, take few breaks yet still manage to throw dinner together and help put the kids to bed. However, most of the shopping, housework, childcare and general home maintenance has fallen onto my husband’s plate. So, as you can guess, things just got a little bit harder. Or, a lot harder…yea, I’m thinking the latter.
Admittedly, we had actively hoped, prayed and waited very patiently for this day to come. If you’re not a religious person, you may still have appreciation for the system of setting universal intention and receiving blessings. I can tell you it works, but not always the way you anticipate, and often not so literally. In our case, we got pretty much what we wished for, and the timing is (for better or worse) what it is. But that there was ever a time when I didn’t completely value the consistency of my husband’s presence, the investment of time he made every day in home-making, or didn’t weigh properly the advantages to having my partner here against a steady paycheck and benefits is just unthinkable now. I’ll even go so far as to say that the major reason most families don’t have this lifestyle isn’t because they don’t want it, or they think it’s unhealthy, it’s because it just isn’t affordable.
I used to complain that I wanted him to have a job so we could have a “healthy separation” and so we would enjoy each other more. Believing the old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder. When I think about those complaints now, I hear a woman struggling to maintain a safe personal distance so she can maximize her earning potential without distraction…and who enjoyed her solitude perhaps a little too much.
At the height of our too-close-for-comfort arrangement, it seemed we were taking each other for granted a bit, and there was no consistency to our communication regardless of how much time we spent together. Well, maybe that was true for the first year, but we finally found a rhythm and rhyme to our days. By the following summer, we had settled into the new arrangement and I began to wonder how anyone runs a household without this kind of daily, hands-on management from both partners. Oddly, we still struggled to find downtime most weekends despite all of the “found” hours during the week.
Now the countdown back to “normalcy” has begun. We are less than one week away from Shawn’s return to the 9-5 grind. We are both, decidedly, resignedly, plodding through this week trying to think about all of the things we wanted to accomplish before next week’s arrival. Now, ironically, we are wishing for more time as a two parent household. And I’m trying every day to peek around the corner and rediscover all the bright sides to our old/new arrangement.
So what’s the lesson here? Well, that’s obvious. This holiday season…when someone asks what you really want during this season of hopes, expectations and gift giving/receiving, consider this; is what you are wishing for something that will make you truly happier? Or, would you be trading in one set of problems for another? Are there things you can afford to live without, but want just because you’ve set up an expectation for yourself and now don’t want to compromise? Does purchasing a brand new car, getting a dog or upgrading to a bigger house mean owning and enjoying them? Perhaps wonderful to have at first, bringing a few months of joy to your life, but eventually, will they own you? Will they take up even more time that you really don’t have, or result in a financial burden that cannot be easily sustained through lean times? That’s the problem with consumerism and modern conveniences, it doesn’t always make your life better or easier…like the advertisers would have you believe.
As to our lifestyles, I wonder how many of us really think about the trade-offs of our hyper-active, overly-committed, achievement-oriented tread-mill of existence. Is this making us happier? I wonder if you sat still long enough, cleared your calendar, sat quietly without distraction, what would you find? Or, more curiously, what would find you?
It took a great effort for me to slow down over the past two plus years, both physically and mentally. It took a very, very long time to get used to, and accept graciously the deepening quiet of my mind. I learned a lot about what’s normal and healthy for me, and the truth about how much I really can handle. I’m now to a point where my mind and my body work together to tell me when I’m taking on too much. And I’ve learned a few valuable lessons about how not to get caught up in the vicious cycle of churn and burn…in particular when someone else wants to man the controls.
Making a daily effort to keep these things in check means being very honest with myself and others, particularly as it relates to work, social commitments and volunteering. Call me a miser, but I’m kind of cheap about how I spend my time and energy. I won’t be using it to chase down all the sales at the mall this year. Who needs that when you have the Internet? (I LOVE online shopping!!)
Instead of wishing for what you want this year, maybe wish for what you need. Figuring that part out shouldn’t be too difficult. We all know what we really need…and we can have it…so long as we’re courageous enough to ask for, and accept it…with love.
In closing…and it deserves repeating…Be careful what you wish for this year, because you just might get it.
Wishing you a joyous, slow-paced, environmentally sensitive, memorable and warm Holiday Season!
(P.S., Check out the Super Tuscan’s right now (Italy). I had a really wonderful red at Stockholders in Weymouth, MA this past weekend. For $8.00 a glass, it was an absolute gem!)
K-
If only I’d taken all that energy and funneled it into building a multi-million dollar empire! Imagine the gifts I’d be able to shower my loved ones with now! But, alas, hind sight is twenty-twenty. No regrets about how I spent Christmas’ past, or any other season for that matter. As I get older I actually get better at being able to look back and understand I was right where I was supposed to be, when I was meant to be there, my entire life. There were lessons to be learned, big and small, all year round. Thank goodness a lot of them have stuck. But even so, there are many more I continue to learn, and learn again. With some, it’s starting to feel like I could teach the course.
Just in time for the season of wishes, wants, intentions and resolutions, I’ve found an unwelcome re-realization coming about in my life that I felt important to share. And, for those of you who know about my personal circumstances over the past two and a half years, you’ll probably find this both humorous and hypocritical. After all the crying, hand-wringing, complaining, supporting, anxious days, weeks and months of teetering on the brink of financial crisis, my husband finally received an offer and accepted a full-time job. This well-deserved turn of events follows a grueling 30 months of unemployment, the last six without any support from the government. And despite how positively this new stability will impact our financial lives, I’m genuinely….well….sad.
The sense of abundance and relief felt after so many months of barely scraping by was sweet and overwhelmingly joyful….for about 2 days. But then the subway-train like screech of metal on metal braking resounded deeply in my head for the week following. That was the sound of the life to which I’d grown accustomed coming to a complete stop. I was finally going to get what I’d wished for, and I realized I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore.
Not wanting, but needing this stability, is a simple reality of our situation. Intellectually, rationally, emotionally, we all know this. But it doesn’t change the fact that our two children have had two at-home parents for almost three years, and neither of them recalls clearly a time when both of us weren’t there when they got on or off the school bus. Despite the fact that we’ve explained many times how very unique and special our arrangement, educating them on how few families enjoy this privilege… the true understanding of our good fortune won’t be realized until a few weeks into this new arrangement. And I dread the transition on so many levels, for so many reasons, I can’t even begin to explain it in one blog post. But I will say this; I’m losing my right arm, left leg, grocery runner, gardener, laundry service, and lunch companion. Worse, the kids are losing their summer weekday beach-buddy, winter-break sledding Sherpa, kitchen-table tutor, fake wrestling coach and short-order breakfast cook…well, Monday through Friday anyways.
While self-employed, I tend to work very long hours and the busiest part of my day tends to run between 2:00 and 6:00 p.m. When I have west coast clients, I will work as late as 9:00 p.m., even on those days that start around 5:30 a.m. EST. I have been able to work as many as fifteen hours a day, take few breaks yet still manage to throw dinner together and help put the kids to bed. However, most of the shopping, housework, childcare and general home maintenance has fallen onto my husband’s plate. So, as you can guess, things just got a little bit harder. Or, a lot harder…yea, I’m thinking the latter.
Admittedly, we had actively hoped, prayed and waited very patiently for this day to come. If you’re not a religious person, you may still have appreciation for the system of setting universal intention and receiving blessings. I can tell you it works, but not always the way you anticipate, and often not so literally. In our case, we got pretty much what we wished for, and the timing is (for better or worse) what it is. But that there was ever a time when I didn’t completely value the consistency of my husband’s presence, the investment of time he made every day in home-making, or didn’t weigh properly the advantages to having my partner here against a steady paycheck and benefits is just unthinkable now. I’ll even go so far as to say that the major reason most families don’t have this lifestyle isn’t because they don’t want it, or they think it’s unhealthy, it’s because it just isn’t affordable.
I used to complain that I wanted him to have a job so we could have a “healthy separation” and so we would enjoy each other more. Believing the old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder. When I think about those complaints now, I hear a woman struggling to maintain a safe personal distance so she can maximize her earning potential without distraction…and who enjoyed her solitude perhaps a little too much.
At the height of our too-close-for-comfort arrangement, it seemed we were taking each other for granted a bit, and there was no consistency to our communication regardless of how much time we spent together. Well, maybe that was true for the first year, but we finally found a rhythm and rhyme to our days. By the following summer, we had settled into the new arrangement and I began to wonder how anyone runs a household without this kind of daily, hands-on management from both partners. Oddly, we still struggled to find downtime most weekends despite all of the “found” hours during the week.
Now the countdown back to “normalcy” has begun. We are less than one week away from Shawn’s return to the 9-5 grind. We are both, decidedly, resignedly, plodding through this week trying to think about all of the things we wanted to accomplish before next week’s arrival. Now, ironically, we are wishing for more time as a two parent household. And I’m trying every day to peek around the corner and rediscover all the bright sides to our old/new arrangement.
So what’s the lesson here? Well, that’s obvious. This holiday season…when someone asks what you really want during this season of hopes, expectations and gift giving/receiving, consider this; is what you are wishing for something that will make you truly happier? Or, would you be trading in one set of problems for another? Are there things you can afford to live without, but want just because you’ve set up an expectation for yourself and now don’t want to compromise? Does purchasing a brand new car, getting a dog or upgrading to a bigger house mean owning and enjoying them? Perhaps wonderful to have at first, bringing a few months of joy to your life, but eventually, will they own you? Will they take up even more time that you really don’t have, or result in a financial burden that cannot be easily sustained through lean times? That’s the problem with consumerism and modern conveniences, it doesn’t always make your life better or easier…like the advertisers would have you believe.
As to our lifestyles, I wonder how many of us really think about the trade-offs of our hyper-active, overly-committed, achievement-oriented tread-mill of existence. Is this making us happier? I wonder if you sat still long enough, cleared your calendar, sat quietly without distraction, what would you find? Or, more curiously, what would find you?
It took a great effort for me to slow down over the past two plus years, both physically and mentally. It took a very, very long time to get used to, and accept graciously the deepening quiet of my mind. I learned a lot about what’s normal and healthy for me, and the truth about how much I really can handle. I’m now to a point where my mind and my body work together to tell me when I’m taking on too much. And I’ve learned a few valuable lessons about how not to get caught up in the vicious cycle of churn and burn…in particular when someone else wants to man the controls.
Making a daily effort to keep these things in check means being very honest with myself and others, particularly as it relates to work, social commitments and volunteering. Call me a miser, but I’m kind of cheap about how I spend my time and energy. I won’t be using it to chase down all the sales at the mall this year. Who needs that when you have the Internet? (I LOVE online shopping!!)
Instead of wishing for what you want this year, maybe wish for what you need. Figuring that part out shouldn’t be too difficult. We all know what we really need…and we can have it…so long as we’re courageous enough to ask for, and accept it…with love.
In closing…and it deserves repeating…Be careful what you wish for this year, because you just might get it.
Wishing you a joyous, slow-paced, environmentally sensitive, memorable and warm Holiday Season!
(P.S., Check out the Super Tuscan’s right now (Italy). I had a really wonderful red at Stockholders in Weymouth, MA this past weekend. For $8.00 a glass, it was an absolute gem!)
K-
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