being a grown up.

Learned an important lesson from a friend today. Dwelling on what could have been is somewhat counterproductive for living in the present, to me that truly is great skill to have. Several Eastern Philosphies are built on that premise. So how does one live in the present, I wondered. He said, "in crisis you have to deal with the present in real terms with an eye towards future consequences."

hmmm.  Maybe my problem is I haven't had a real crisis? Can I still learn to be here now? I find i'd prefer to read, watch a movie, listen to music, play a game, play with Leia. But do stuff around the house? Never.

Despite everyone's desires otherwise, the laundry still needs doing, dishes done, toilets cleaned, etc. practical stuff, day to day mess needs to be cleaned. Another friend told me she was living with a man who refused to pitch in with the household duties. She said, "that's just part of being a grown up, it sucks but you gotta do it."  And she didn't like that about him. I don't like that part about being a grown up either. I don't like being the only one who does the chores in my house. Being the one to take care of everyone else, even the other able bodied adult isn't my idea of a good life. And it makes me a very unhappy grown up who doesn't want to be one.

Today my friend taught me about what being a grown up was:

Being a happy grown up means not completely leaving your childhood behind. And still being able to watch a hummingbird with wonder and awe. Then you go inside later to fold the laundry, wash the dishes and clean the toilets. 

And it may not always get done on time, but who's counting?

Choices

We make a choice and then later on think, wow, maybe I should have gone with the other way, maybe I’d have been happier with that choice. People who win lotteries and people who are disabled both get to the same level of contentment with life. Neither group is happier than the other after the initial euphoria of winning and the after the initial despair of becoming disabled. We adapt to how our lives are and then we find happiness in the little meaningful things in our daily lives the same way as a lottery winner would or the person in a wheelchair would.

I have a friend from work who is not very happy with her life. She told me last night before I left, that she just wants to be happy like she is when she gets back from a vacation. That great feeling of bliss goes away and she hates that. She believes that we are capable of being happy like that all the time; happy people are always happy. So she tells me.

I told her I don't think that's possible, to have that amount of happiness constantly. It always goes away. Then you have to find it agian. That's why people go to church on Sunday/Saturday; to be reminded of the divinity within us. The bliss fades, but the trick is to find it again and again. A nice thing about Buddhism is to comprehend the first tenant: "life is suffering". She slammed her hand on the desk and said, "I'm not Buddhist and I want to be happy." She was quite angry with me. I should learn that depression isn't possible to lift for others. I will always continue to try, though.

I said, the hardest part of being alive is realizing not every day will be good and not everyday will be bad. The bad things end, as do the good things. But being aware of that things will change (they will always change) makes us able to get through the hard parts.

That conversation brought me to the idea that happiness is dependant on our expectations of what we want from life. Make a choice on what you expect to be getting from your life and then work through your life to get there. Then don't look back on the path not taken.

I think I’m getting the hang of it, 35 years later.

Just made smaller

We live in a community of the World. It’s bizarre to think only 10 years ago we wouldn’t have discussions with someone from Iraq, Iran or Palestine on a daily basis. But because we can now converse regularly with ease, former boundaries have dissolved and we have to reinvent how we view our world, mental picture.

We used to have those extraordinary meetings with people you know in your everyday life on a chance in some round the world, at airports, hotels and restaurants. You know those stories, "Oh wow, it was bizarre I was in a restaurant in Kathmandu and one of my acquaintances patting me on the back and asked how my daughter was! Can you believe it was John? I hadn't seen him in months and there he was in that restaurant, in Kathmandu!"

I remember seeing a high school friend in an Airport in Bolivia when I was traveling to Paraguay and the Bolivian Airline went on strike. We had to spend the night in the airport and my friend walks by, and we were both stunned to see each other.

Now it's just so normal to talk to people in Ireland, Australia, Puerto Rico on a daily basis. I know globalization is not supposed to be the best thing in the world. I like this part of it, creating relationships with people. This I can't see as bad at all. Call me naive, but relationships are the answer to the question, "What's the meaning of life?" That or 42.

Memory

The smallest thing can make a lasting impression and you never know what that memory will be. My daughter remembers going down the slide with her daddy. She was too afraid to go alone so Brad held her on his lap and they both went down together. He bumped hard at the bottom and lost his hold on her and she flew into the air and landed with a bump on the grass on her behind. It looked like she bounced almost. She said to me later, "mom why don’t you catch me?"

My coworker remembers her older brother and her brother’s friend Charlie were going to go camping one weekend. They took the top off of Charlie’s ‘57, fire engine red T-Bird with a white interior and set the top on the grass. Then he tossed her the keys saying, "Here you go; have fun." She was 16 and forever will remember that as being one of the best memories of her life.

Meditating

A young woman I talk to once in a while, (she's 27) asked me if it is common for people to constantly feel anxious about something or other in life. I told her it was. It's the hardest lesson to learn in life, but there will always be a state of anxiety that lingers in the background. Just how one copes with that anxiety is the trick to living our lives we all have to learn. That's the main focus of most studies of Psychology.

What I found has helped the most in the past year has been the Paul Scheele meditations a friend shared with me. I think that and possibly getting a new job. But the anxiety that was underlying everything isn’t there anymore.

I've had the best experiences with meditation since I realized it's not what I thought it was when I first learned about it; the notion that all meditation is like the selfless Yogi on the mountain top isn't the entire picture. It's exactly what I’d been doing all my life when I am in an optimal state. People think meditation is something entirely different and they think they aren't meditating. I have friends who express frustration with not being able to meditate. I really think that they have been meditating and they probably didn’t realize it. It's being focused. It’s that state one’s in when they play a game, or play an instrument. The outside world doesn't intrude at all. Some people get that way with TV. You can talk and talk to someone watching their favorite TV program, but it won't register that someone is talking to them.

With the Paul Scheele’s audio meditations, I understand that the underlying sounds and tones are what take care of the meditative state. The other thoughts that intrude really don't matter. It’s the process that matters. You’re still, quiet and within yourself. It’s ok to think about things. Maybe one day you won't have thoughts flitting around your mind. But for now, take that thought and run with it. And the next thought, if it comes up, is ok too. Telling yourself you can't meditate just reinforces the idea that you can't and then you don't do it at all.

Something tangential but related regarding thinking about meditation was regarding an article I read and then also later heard a small piece on NPR about it: Children who are told they are smart and brilliant stop trying when they encounter something they find hard. They tend to think; oh I’m not smart enough to figure this out. So they tend to not do as well in school. Children who are told they are smart but also that maybe there's another way to figure out a problem or maybe with a little work they can do even better and become the kids who are in the top 10% of their classes. They know that effort matters more than just being smart.

I remember the kids who were in the top ten percent of my class in Texas. They weren't that much more brilliant than the other kids. They just knew how to apply themselves, they knew how to study, and they knew how to focus. (Even the guy who was the valedictorian knew how to cheat so he wouldn't get caught. He was the biggest cheater in the school.)

I've emphasized to my daughter that she needs to worry about school now so that her life later on will be a little easier for her. If she gets to go to college, then she won't have to worry about jobs as much or struggle with school later on if she does well now.
The NPR story said that teaching a kid that intelligence isn't a fixed number, that it can always change. It should be emphasized that you can improve yourself and your brain and it teaches a kid that they aren't constrained by their "IQ".

Looking back I can see that I was told, "you're a smart kid.”. When I encountered something hard (algebra) I gave up. I told myself, I wasn't smart enough. I don’t get it, therefore I’m not capable. Who cares if I could read 4 levels above all the other kids and skipped the 4th grade. I was dumb because I couldn't get math. I want to teach my daughter that learning something isn't dependant upon her intelligence. It's dependant on whether or not she gives it some effort.

To tie the two thoughts together, (you had to know I was getting there through this side road of thought) I would then go on to say that being able to meditate or not isn't a fixed intelligence thing as well. It’s something with effort that can be accomplished. It has to be of importance to you, though; like getting good grades would be to a kid.

Family

A distant relative wrote a book, Life in Los Sauces. It’s about the area in the San Luis Valley in Southern Colorado. The village of Los Sauces lies a short distance south of the Rio Grande and Conejos Rivers

It’s the place where my dad’s parents are from. Both his mom and dad grew up in this area, as did many Marquez’s and Barela’s before them. Los Sauces is a small Spanish village, primarily Catholic, in Conejos County, Colorado. It was established in 1863 by Spanish settlers who came from Northern New Mexico. The village was named for the willows (sauces) that grew in that area. The early settlers landed on the Conejos Land Grant on the west side of the Rio Grande. They grazed their animals on the east side of the river on land that was part of the Sangre de Cristo Land Grant. As my father told me and other people, we come from a blood line of sheepherders.

I remember my grandmother telling me stories about delivering milk with her father when she was a little girl. They’d have to get up daily before the sun came up and deliver to people in the area in their horse driven cart. Grandma said she did it because she wanted to be next to her father; she loved doing things with him. He’d warm up big stones the night before in the fireplace and then wrap them in blankets for their feet in the cold winter months to put at the bottom of the cart. Sometimes her mom would bake potatoes to wrap up so she can keep her hands warm.

The more I thought about it the more I realized how much had changed for her in her life time. We all complain about how time flies but really think about how much changed for all of our grandparents. It’s a little different if your grandparents are in their 50s or say even their 40s. The changes from the 1970s and now aren’t all that huge. But I think back to those times my grandmother told me about; delivering milk to her village with her father in a horse driven cart and then later in her life she was able to fly in a plane to different parts of the world if she so desired.

Though, she never did fly anywhere; she wouldn’t step foot into an airplane. She called them las machinas! as she also lovingly called the car, the toaster, and the refrigerator. When she was a child, New Mexico was still a territory. People used horses to get around. The most high tech item they owned was the plow for the fields for the food they grew for themselves. Her whole village and her family all spoke Spanish. They didn’t need to learn anything else. She didn't learn to speak English until she had grandchildren. All of those folks who were children in the early 1900s didn’t imagine the changes ahead of them. I can’t begin to imagine the changes for my daughter in 60 years.

Traveling and Listening and Reading

I drove to Denver and listened to NPR podcasts the entire way there. I never thought I'd be engrossed by the Most Emailed stories for 5.5 hours straight. I guess I have a slight off kilter way of gulping up information. It's the same way I surf the web. I look for one thing and a few hours later I'm looking at something entirely different. Often I didn't find the thing I set out to search for in the first place; it was long forgotten and will have to wait until the next time I can set out on a free-fall surfing of the web like that. Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with my inability to focus on one thing for long periods of time. I also wonder if it has made me lose a few IQ points since I absolutely don't need to retain information anymore; it's all accessible at the click of a mouse.

Anyway, I was traveling north up the state of New Mexico and into Colorado and heard many wondrous things from the great minds at NPR. I jotted down titles of books that sounded interesting from their lists and wrote down music I intend to look up to listen to later. I heard a band from Tupelo, MS; the Homemade Jamz. They play handmade 'muffler' instruments. The oldest is a 16 year old guitar player; the bass player is 14 and the drummer is their 9 year old sister. Their father joins them on the harmonica.

After listening to lists of great songs to download and various musings on the war and politics, this group of kids made me want to hear more and more of what they had. But since I was in a car with just an iPod, I couldn't stop to play more of their sound. I love their music, it's the genuine thing. It proves that real blues doesn't just come from an old guy sittin' on his porch; it's the music of a place and from the heart. I hope this group of kids goes on to do great things. Even if they don't, I think they will be ok with just following their hearts for the love of music. Check out the video and some of their songs on NPR's web site.

I also heard on the podcasts 4 books I have put in my pile of "to read" books: A Thin Place by Kathryn Davis; Metzger's Dog by Thomas Perry; Replay by Ken Grimwood and Sunshine by Robin McKinley. Of the 4, I am thinking that Sunshine will be the most entertaining. I will start with that one and maybe not even bother with the other 3. Replay will be the next to try if Sunshine does turn out to be a good novel.

That's the best part about finding books you may want to read before going to the bookstore. I do like reading other people's comments, and reviews of a book and have not picked up a book because a 1 star reviewer will dump on it big time. I've probably 2/3rds of my collection of book-dogs because of the number of times I thought at the bookstore, " Oh, this looks really like what I am looking for" and then putting it on the checkout counter without much more thought than that. I get home and try to read it and nothing. I need to find an exchange program for my book-dogs. Someone out there might like it. But, I also need to learn to use the library more often is what it amounts to.

I'm just waiting for the mother ship.

Matt has on his white board...
WWBFD. and I was trying to figure it out, what would big fun do? what would big funny deal.. that didn't work. so I asked. and Matt said, "what would Brett Favre do?" And that answer didn't help me any, "who's Brett Favre" By the the look on his face, I knew I was going to be in big trouble. He runs down the hall grabs Steve, and Steve comes back with that same look Matt has on his face. Steve says, "I knew it! This Proves you're an alien" Then they asked more questions to verify my Amurkan-ness and not being from outer space. Mostly sports questions I couldn't answer and then asked me things like where does Honey Moon come from? Which team did Hank Aaron play for? I could answer who wrote the Great Gatsby though. What I learned from this was: don't ask a question again.

babeh deer by my door

My husband and I work for our local County. Working in dreary government offices, we have long days. Last week, my husband had visitors come to his window and sniff around. (He's got a window!!!) As he told me, they were jumping and frolicking right outside his window.

All these IT guys went outside to take pictures and the deer pretty much just stood around watching them. When the guys got too close, the deer would bound away, but they would come back in a few minutes. They were a fearless group pretty much. But the one tiny baby looked like he was hoping no one would see him... he was camouflaging himself in the the grass. It was taller than he was!

nocebo

Washington Post wrote about it so it's definately going either give cause for concern to people who say they aren't going to take care of themselves, they are on the 50 year plan Or they might get scared and rethink the way they look at life.

that's the opposite of the placebo effect; the mind doesn't fool
itself into feeling better, it fools itself into dying. People get
worse because they think they'll get worse. Doctors have many cases.
In 1974 a man in Nashville was treated for cancer of the esophagus,
considered fatal back then. He died a few weeks later. But an autopsy
revealed that his esophagus was fine. He had a few cancerous spots on
his liver, and one on his lung, but not enough to kill him. "He died
with cancer but not from cancer." In the Framingham Heart Study,
begun in 1948, women who believed they were prone to heart disease
were nearly 4x to die form heart disease.

here's the link to the Post article.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A2709-2002Apr29