Since I just wrote about the diversity of bloggers in the last post, I'm delighted that Corinne Rodrigues at Everyday Gyaan asked me to write a guest post for her blog.
When I was a girl, I noticed that occasionally, I would disagree with someone about whether something was blue or green. It didn’t seem to be an issue with other colors, only those two. And in each instance, I was sure the color was blue and the other person was just as sure it was green.
My initial assessment of these arguments was that these other people had not learned their colors properly in kindergarten. I couldn’t believe that they identified as green what was so clearly blue.
Then one day another explanation appeared, first as a random thought flitting through my mind, but then taking hold of my imagination and expanding like a supernova.
Read the rest here at Everyday Gyaan.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Thinking Out Loud
The title of this post should suggest approaching with caution. I’m not sure thinking out loud, except to yourself, is ever a good idea, especially on a blog. But as I’m sitting here this morning, that seems to be where I’m headed, so here goes.
I’ve been thinking the last few days more about form and less about content. That is, I’ve been thinking about blogging itself rather than what is written on a blog.
This thinking has been prompted in part by conversations I’ve had this week with several interesting and successful bloggers, bloggers who write about very different things for very different reasons in very different ways. I guess one thing that struck me is obvious. We’re not all here for the same reasons.
Some of us blog to make money. Blogging is either our main source of income or it is a source of needed or desired supplemental income, either directly through advertising or indirectly through promoting goods and services. For those, blogging is business.
Some of us blog to build community. Blogging is a forum for reaching out, making friends, creating connection. For those, blogging is relationship.
Some of us blog as a hobby. Blogging is not central to our day or our attention, but is recreational. For those, blogging is fun.
By now you might be thinking, as I am, that the lines are not so clear. I can identify at various times with all these reasons. The importance of clarifying our motives is, I think, that knowing why we and others do what we do in blogworld will help us understand ourselves and each other better.
For example, if your primary motivation is business, then commenting is a way to build your “customer” base. You will comment on blogs that will provide some practical benefit to you. I have had bloggers comment on my blog for awhile, and then as they gain momentum, they move up the ladder, so to speak. From a business perspective, that makes sense. If I am in community mode, however, then I’m looking for relationship while they are looking for value. This could result in my feeling hurt or used if I am assuming that their motive is the same as mine. If I can recognize and respect our different motives, however, then I don’t take their decision personally. All is well.
Sometimes I sense some underlying judgment in blogworld. People who blog for business might dismiss those who blog for recreation. People who blog for community might look down on those who blog for profit.
I got to wondering why this might be. After all, we live in a world where we function in different contexts with different motivations. But perhaps in our physical world (as opposed to blogworld), these distinctions are more readily apparent and accepted. My interactions with people at work are different from my interactions with people at church, for example. The lines are more clear. In blogworld, however, we are all in a common space online, but sometimes with different expectations. It’s like taking all the people in your physical world – all the people in your family, at work, in your neighborhood, in your book club, at the store – and putting them in the same room and expecting everyone to relate to each other in the same way.
In blogworld, let’s not forget that besides our different motives, we come from different backgrounds, cultures, countries, ages, faiths, and ethnicities.
Here we all are in the “same room” of blogworld with a range of diversity unmatched in any one of our individual lives. It’s really astounding, if you think about it.
And I guess that’s what I’m doing today. Thinking about it.
I’ve been thinking the last few days more about form and less about content. That is, I’ve been thinking about blogging itself rather than what is written on a blog.
This thinking has been prompted in part by conversations I’ve had this week with several interesting and successful bloggers, bloggers who write about very different things for very different reasons in very different ways. I guess one thing that struck me is obvious. We’re not all here for the same reasons.
Some of us blog to make money. Blogging is either our main source of income or it is a source of needed or desired supplemental income, either directly through advertising or indirectly through promoting goods and services. For those, blogging is business.
Some of us blog to build community. Blogging is a forum for reaching out, making friends, creating connection. For those, blogging is relationship.
Some of us blog as a hobby. Blogging is not central to our day or our attention, but is recreational. For those, blogging is fun.
By now you might be thinking, as I am, that the lines are not so clear. I can identify at various times with all these reasons. The importance of clarifying our motives is, I think, that knowing why we and others do what we do in blogworld will help us understand ourselves and each other better.
For example, if your primary motivation is business, then commenting is a way to build your “customer” base. You will comment on blogs that will provide some practical benefit to you. I have had bloggers comment on my blog for awhile, and then as they gain momentum, they move up the ladder, so to speak. From a business perspective, that makes sense. If I am in community mode, however, then I’m looking for relationship while they are looking for value. This could result in my feeling hurt or used if I am assuming that their motive is the same as mine. If I can recognize and respect our different motives, however, then I don’t take their decision personally. All is well.
Sometimes I sense some underlying judgment in blogworld. People who blog for business might dismiss those who blog for recreation. People who blog for community might look down on those who blog for profit.
I got to wondering why this might be. After all, we live in a world where we function in different contexts with different motivations. But perhaps in our physical world (as opposed to blogworld), these distinctions are more readily apparent and accepted. My interactions with people at work are different from my interactions with people at church, for example. The lines are more clear. In blogworld, however, we are all in a common space online, but sometimes with different expectations. It’s like taking all the people in your physical world – all the people in your family, at work, in your neighborhood, in your book club, at the store – and putting them in the same room and expecting everyone to relate to each other in the same way.
In blogworld, let’s not forget that besides our different motives, we come from different backgrounds, cultures, countries, ages, faiths, and ethnicities.
Here we all are in the “same room” of blogworld with a range of diversity unmatched in any one of our individual lives. It’s really astounding, if you think about it.
And I guess that’s what I’m doing today. Thinking about it.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Missing Sadie
I haven’t been on the computer very much this week. My sweet dog Sadie died peacefully in my arms at the vet’s office last Sunday. I miss her. Those of you who have lost dear pets know how it is. Every time I walk into the living room, I expect to see her on the couch. I still hesitate to put the trash can on the floor. I still make sure the gate to the back yard is securely fastened. We build habits around the people and pets we live with. When someone is gone, it takes awhile to fill in that space.
There is a story about a man and his dog that die at the same time. He finds himself standing at the pearly gates looking through to what appears to be paradise, but the gatekeeper won’t let him take his dog in with him. The man chooses not to enter what he believes is heaven. He goes on down the road and comes to a modest farm. The old man sitting at the gate tells him he and his dog are welcome. In response to the man’s questions, the old man says that this is heaven. The first place up the road was hell.
That’s how I look at it, too. If there is life after death, and if we really do get to see our loved ones again, then I hope that Sadie and Sam (the canine love of my life) will be waiting for me. In the meantime, I hope they have met each other and are romping in fields full of angel children to play with and squirrels to chase. Hmm, that might be hell for the squirrels.
[Someone told me that the man and dog story is based on a Twilight Zone episode. No, not the vampire saga. Twilight Zone was a TV series when I was growing up.]
related posts: Dog is God Spelled Backwards; Canine Theology
There is a story about a man and his dog that die at the same time. He finds himself standing at the pearly gates looking through to what appears to be paradise, but the gatekeeper won’t let him take his dog in with him. The man chooses not to enter what he believes is heaven. He goes on down the road and comes to a modest farm. The old man sitting at the gate tells him he and his dog are welcome. In response to the man’s questions, the old man says that this is heaven. The first place up the road was hell.
That’s how I look at it, too. If there is life after death, and if we really do get to see our loved ones again, then I hope that Sadie and Sam (the canine love of my life) will be waiting for me. In the meantime, I hope they have met each other and are romping in fields full of angel children to play with and squirrels to chase. Hmm, that might be hell for the squirrels.
[Someone told me that the man and dog story is based on a Twilight Zone episode. No, not the vampire saga. Twilight Zone was a TV series when I was growing up.]
related posts: Dog is God Spelled Backwards; Canine Theology
Saturday, June 23, 2012
I Give You My Shoes!
When I was a little girl, I enjoyed reading Reader’s Digest. I liked the stories about real people who did heroic things. (I still like these stories.) One story made such an impression on me that I remember it after all these years. The details are fuzzy, but the impact is fresh.
As I recall, the story took place in a Muslim country, somewhere on a beach. A local woman was walking along the beach in a tourist area with a male companion from America. The account of what happened was written by the man.
As they strolled along an isolated stretch of sand, carrying their shoes in their hands, they were suddenly accosted by a group of robbers brandishing knives. The thieves circled them and demanded their money and valuables, including their shoes. The man described his terror as he imagined his imminent painful, bloody death, and his helpless failure to protect his friend. As he fumbled with trembling hands to get his wallet out and remove his watch, his female companion drew herself up and faced the leader, who towered over her.
Her eyes blazing, she looked him in the eye and said, “You may not steal from me. Allah forbids it. I give you my shoes as a gift to save your soul. May Allah have mercy on you.”
I have no memory of why this big ol’ scary, knife-wielding man would want a pair of women’s shoes, but there they all stood, the robbers momentarily flummoxed by this tiny woman defiantly thrusting her shoes toward the leader.
Her horrified companion held his breath, certain it would be his last. After what seemed like forever, the leader lowered his knife. I don’t remember what he said to the woman, but he called his band of thieves away and left the two of them unharmed and unrobbed.
In a similar scenario, I read about a Tibetan monk who was crying as he was being tortured by Chinese soldiers. When one of his tormentors ridiculed him for his tears, the monk explained that he was crying out of compassion because of all the bad karma his captors were creating for themselves.
In a very different scenario, I walked into my living room one morning years ago and startled a teenaged boy I knew from the neighborhood. He had come in through a door I thought I had locked, and was standing there going through my purse. Fueled by adrenaline, I screamed at him to get out of my house. (I can’t print what I actually said.) He immediately dropped everything and ran out the door and down the street.
Emboldened by his reaction, I shouted at him from the front porch, demanding that he return while I called the police. When he kept running (what a surprise), I grabbed my keys and, clad only in my robe, jumped in the car and gave chase. Thank goodness he veered off the street and ran between two houses before I could run him over. To this day I wonder if I would have.
He was caught soon thereafter and I testified against him at his preliminary hearing. I remember how angry I was, how much I wanted him punished. I’m sorry about that now. I’m not sorry he was caught, or that he brought legal consequences upon himself. I’m sorry about what was in my heart. And what wasn’t in my heart. There was no compassion or forgiveness, only a craving for vengeance.
Anger always masks fear. When I look through my rage, I can see how vulnerable I felt when I came upon him in my home, especially since I had undressed and only had my robe on. I was afraid he might have hurt me. Somehow I felt embarrassed that I had left the door unlocked and “allowed” this to happen. Maybe I even felt ashamed. My anger, on the other hand, gave me a feeling of power and invincibility, long after the threat was over.
Even when we are “righteous” in our anger, what does it serve? The heart of the woman on the beach and the spirit of the Tibetan monk were untouched by the harmful intentions of their attackers. Who, then, was truly invincible?
related posts: Calling for Love; Righteous Unforgiveness
As I recall, the story took place in a Muslim country, somewhere on a beach. A local woman was walking along the beach in a tourist area with a male companion from America. The account of what happened was written by the man.
As they strolled along an isolated stretch of sand, carrying their shoes in their hands, they were suddenly accosted by a group of robbers brandishing knives. The thieves circled them and demanded their money and valuables, including their shoes. The man described his terror as he imagined his imminent painful, bloody death, and his helpless failure to protect his friend. As he fumbled with trembling hands to get his wallet out and remove his watch, his female companion drew herself up and faced the leader, who towered over her.
Her eyes blazing, she looked him in the eye and said, “You may not steal from me. Allah forbids it. I give you my shoes as a gift to save your soul. May Allah have mercy on you.”
I have no memory of why this big ol’ scary, knife-wielding man would want a pair of women’s shoes, but there they all stood, the robbers momentarily flummoxed by this tiny woman defiantly thrusting her shoes toward the leader.
Her horrified companion held his breath, certain it would be his last. After what seemed like forever, the leader lowered his knife. I don’t remember what he said to the woman, but he called his band of thieves away and left the two of them unharmed and unrobbed.
In a similar scenario, I read about a Tibetan monk who was crying as he was being tortured by Chinese soldiers. When one of his tormentors ridiculed him for his tears, the monk explained that he was crying out of compassion because of all the bad karma his captors were creating for themselves.
In a very different scenario, I walked into my living room one morning years ago and startled a teenaged boy I knew from the neighborhood. He had come in through a door I thought I had locked, and was standing there going through my purse. Fueled by adrenaline, I screamed at him to get out of my house. (I can’t print what I actually said.) He immediately dropped everything and ran out the door and down the street.
Emboldened by his reaction, I shouted at him from the front porch, demanding that he return while I called the police. When he kept running (what a surprise), I grabbed my keys and, clad only in my robe, jumped in the car and gave chase. Thank goodness he veered off the street and ran between two houses before I could run him over. To this day I wonder if I would have.
He was caught soon thereafter and I testified against him at his preliminary hearing. I remember how angry I was, how much I wanted him punished. I’m sorry about that now. I’m not sorry he was caught, or that he brought legal consequences upon himself. I’m sorry about what was in my heart. And what wasn’t in my heart. There was no compassion or forgiveness, only a craving for vengeance.
Anger always masks fear. When I look through my rage, I can see how vulnerable I felt when I came upon him in my home, especially since I had undressed and only had my robe on. I was afraid he might have hurt me. Somehow I felt embarrassed that I had left the door unlocked and “allowed” this to happen. Maybe I even felt ashamed. My anger, on the other hand, gave me a feeling of power and invincibility, long after the threat was over.
Even when we are “righteous” in our anger, what does it serve? The heart of the woman on the beach and the spirit of the Tibetan monk were untouched by the harmful intentions of their attackers. Who, then, was truly invincible?
related posts: Calling for Love; Righteous Unforgiveness
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Choosing to Thrive
Yield and overcome
Bend and be straight
–Tao Te Ching
I spent a lovely weekend at my mountain cabin recently. The cabin sits in dense forest just above a rushing creek. On the far side of the creek is a ridge, which keeps that side of the creek in shade for much of the day.
When I’m at the cabin, I spend a lot of time at the creek. I like to have my morning tea sitting on its bank. On a hot day, I stay close to the creek. The water comes from melting snow further up the mountain. The icy temperature creates natural air conditioning above the dancing race of sparkling froth.
Over a year ago, sudden warm weather after a heavy snow flooded the creek. Boulders and trees swept downstream like thundering herds of buffalo. Afterwards, I saw that a birch tree on the far side of the creek had toppled over. It lay balanced on several rocks just above the water, its base hidden in the underbrush by the creek’s edge. Over the winter, it looked just like the other logs and driftwood scattered along the banks.
But with spring came a surprise...
Please click here to read the rest over at MakeGirlfriends. Even though Nancy's blog is MakeGirlfriends, you "boys" are welcome to come along, too!
related post: Bloom Where You're Planted
Bend and be straight
–Tao Te Ching
I spent a lovely weekend at my mountain cabin recently. The cabin sits in dense forest just above a rushing creek. On the far side of the creek is a ridge, which keeps that side of the creek in shade for much of the day.
When I’m at the cabin, I spend a lot of time at the creek. I like to have my morning tea sitting on its bank. On a hot day, I stay close to the creek. The water comes from melting snow further up the mountain. The icy temperature creates natural air conditioning above the dancing race of sparkling froth.
Over a year ago, sudden warm weather after a heavy snow flooded the creek. Boulders and trees swept downstream like thundering herds of buffalo. Afterwards, I saw that a birch tree on the far side of the creek had toppled over. It lay balanced on several rocks just above the water, its base hidden in the underbrush by the creek’s edge. Over the winter, it looked just like the other logs and driftwood scattered along the banks.
But with spring came a surprise...
Please click here to read the rest over at MakeGirlfriends. Even though Nancy's blog is MakeGirlfriends, you "boys" are welcome to come along, too!
related post: Bloom Where You're Planted
Monday, June 18, 2012
Guided Tour
The following is a post from last summer. Since the season of summer travel has begun, I thought it would be fun to revisit the idea of taking someone on a guided tour of our lives. I hope you will share some of your tour highlights in the comments!
This last weekend, I had company from out of town. My visitor was someone who lived across the street from me in Memphis when we were kids. He and his sister were part of a group of kids with whom I played and rode bikes. We had not seen each other since our early teens and had not stayed in touch until last year when our paths crossed in cyberspace.
He now lives in New Orleans, and until this weekend, had never been in the Northwest, which is about as far away from New Orleans in every sense as one can get in the continental US. So for three days, I was his guide, giving him his first impression of the place I have called home for twenty years. I wanted him to see the beautiful scenery of course, but I also wanted him to understand something of the culture here, the inner workings of this city and this region.
Although I never take my life here for granted, being a tour guide for a newcomer gave me the opportunity to look at my home with fresh eyes, to voice what I appreciate about living here, to share my enthusiasm about my life here. As the days went by, I found myself more consciously aware of what was best about the place. Oh, there are faults to be sure, and I didn’t deny them, but I wanted to put my city’s best foot forward, so to speak. And as I did so, I was filled with tenderness and love and gratitude for this community which welcomed me with open arms all those years ago.
It occurred to me that we might awaken this same tenderness and compassion for ourselves by a similar process. If you were going to take someone on a guided tour of your life, what would it look like? If you wanted someone to understand and appreciate who you are, what would you say?
Many guide books include sections on history, culture, places to see, and things to do. A guide book for our lives could include these same sections. What are the significant events in your history? What are your qualities and values that would help someone understand who you are today? Are there any customs or taboos that a visitor should know about? And what are the best things about you, the things you would want someone to be sure to see? Don’t forget that guide books include things to do that are fun! What would someone enjoy most about you?
If you have time and are so inclined, I invite you to be a tour guide for your own life. You could write a guide book or just jot down some notes. Or you could simply think about it. My hope is that a fresh look at our lives in this way will awaken compassion for ourselves. There is a saying that charity begins at home. Compassion does, too. Experiencing compassion and appreciation for ourselves will spill over to others as well.
Enjoy your tour!
Related post: First Date
This last weekend, I had company from out of town. My visitor was someone who lived across the street from me in Memphis when we were kids. He and his sister were part of a group of kids with whom I played and rode bikes. We had not seen each other since our early teens and had not stayed in touch until last year when our paths crossed in cyberspace.
He now lives in New Orleans, and until this weekend, had never been in the Northwest, which is about as far away from New Orleans in every sense as one can get in the continental US. So for three days, I was his guide, giving him his first impression of the place I have called home for twenty years. I wanted him to see the beautiful scenery of course, but I also wanted him to understand something of the culture here, the inner workings of this city and this region.
Although I never take my life here for granted, being a tour guide for a newcomer gave me the opportunity to look at my home with fresh eyes, to voice what I appreciate about living here, to share my enthusiasm about my life here. As the days went by, I found myself more consciously aware of what was best about the place. Oh, there are faults to be sure, and I didn’t deny them, but I wanted to put my city’s best foot forward, so to speak. And as I did so, I was filled with tenderness and love and gratitude for this community which welcomed me with open arms all those years ago.
It occurred to me that we might awaken this same tenderness and compassion for ourselves by a similar process. If you were going to take someone on a guided tour of your life, what would it look like? If you wanted someone to understand and appreciate who you are, what would you say?
Many guide books include sections on history, culture, places to see, and things to do. A guide book for our lives could include these same sections. What are the significant events in your history? What are your qualities and values that would help someone understand who you are today? Are there any customs or taboos that a visitor should know about? And what are the best things about you, the things you would want someone to be sure to see? Don’t forget that guide books include things to do that are fun! What would someone enjoy most about you?
If you have time and are so inclined, I invite you to be a tour guide for your own life. You could write a guide book or just jot down some notes. Or you could simply think about it. My hope is that a fresh look at our lives in this way will awaken compassion for ourselves. There is a saying that charity begins at home. Compassion does, too. Experiencing compassion and appreciation for ourselves will spill over to others as well.
Enjoy your tour!
Related post: First Date
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Quotes of Joy
I’m going to be away from the computer for a few days, so I thought I would invite all of you to share your favorite quotes about happiness and joy in the comments. I will publish the comments just as soon as I get back on Sunday.
I’ll start with a few of my own favorites.
There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. –Buddha
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. –Psalm 118:24
Oh, be swift to love. Make haste to be kind. –Henri Frederic Amiel
What about you? What are your favorites?
Have a wonderful weekend!
I’ll start with a few of my own favorites.
There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. –Buddha
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. –Psalm 118:24
Oh, be swift to love. Make haste to be kind. –Henri Frederic Amiel
What about you? What are your favorites?
Have a wonderful weekend!
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