When I was a young child, my dad converted part of the basement into a family room. It was the early 1960's. So you know what it looked like - pressboards of faux pine panelling, brown and tan linoleum tiles (put down with black mastic; no peel-and-stick vinyl!), the homemade storage unit painted orange and tan, the orange couch, the tv in the solid maple "Early American" box (color, no less!)...
It was a great place. My brother and I could go down there by ourselves on a Saturday morninng, watch The American Farmer (it was REALLY early -- and this was a metro NY station!), then Mighty Mouse (my brother's hero), Crusader Rabbit and Rags the Tiger (an early cartoon by the creator of Rocky and Bullwinkle -- apparently it only showed in a few markets) while we had "foot fights" on the couch. Foot fights consisted of us laying at opposite ends of the couch, putting our feet together, sole to sole, and struggling to see who could make the other one bend their knees to their chests. Since I was two years older and a lot heavier, I usually won. I loved foot fights. Sometimes we would pour oyster crackers into those pastel Tupperware cereal bowls, put them on the floor, and eat out of them like we were cats. Seriously.
What I only found out recently was that my dad had built the room as a result of the Cuban Missile Crisis. He and my mom wanted a room with no windows where we could hid safely if there was a need. That information astounded me. In my mind, it transformed that great play space (did I mention that the linoleum tiles were in this great interlocking key pattern that you could walk around forever, kind of like a primative labyrinth?) into a symbol of protection and caring.
And it made me think about other ways I've been protected in my life without ever knowing it. There's a great motivation in recognizing the protection that surrounds and protects us, but there's a deeper grace, a sense of wonder about the invisible protection that goes with us in the world. The symbols are many: the soldier half-way across the world on a battlefield or a ship in the middle of an ocean; the public health nurse who makes sure that vaccinations go into the most dangerous neighborhoods; the patrol officers who used to "walk the beat"; the neighbors who would keep an eye out for you and who would let your mom know if you were doing something dangerous; teachers and professors who made sure I was doing the best work I could. Like Hermione Granger weaving a web of protective spells, their caring and attentiveness was invisible, but powerful.
I think of the day I was being ordained, one of the older ladies of the church grabbed me and said, "I've been praying for this day for years." And I think of the openning verse of the old hymn "For the Beauty of the Earth: "For the beauty of the earth, for the glory of the skies; For the love, which from our birth, over and around us lies."
On this Thanksgiving Eve, I am profoundly grateful for that web of protective love, that grace which is the gift of heaven, those folks who loved me not for what I had done or who I might be, but simply because I was. I am. They are the arms of everlasting love who have born me safe thus far, and I trust that they will be there, often unseen and unappreciated, until grace leads me home. "Lord of All, to Thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise."
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
No Unlit Candles
Sometimes someone else just says it better than I can. I regularly follow beautytipsforministers.com, a great blog with the subtitle "Because You're in the Public Eye and God Knows You Need to Look Good." In the most current entry, PeaceBang, the blogger, writes about hospitality and welcoming people into our homes (and lives) in ways that are truly gracious. It's worth reading. But what set me writing was a comment about a story someone had heard in a sermon about an older woman who had died and left behind a full set of Spode china that had never been unpacked. Her adult daughter wept at the discovery, for she had not even known her mother had the china.
It reminded me of cleaning out my grandmother's apartment when she died. Now, Nanny had a very small apartment and she was very generous about giving things away. I never left her house as an adult without taking something home with me that she insisted I have -- an electric coffee pot, a cast iron skillet, a picture for my living room, a piece of jewelry...but when she died we found two items that made me very sad.
One we knew about. It was the pretty nightgown, brand new, with the tags still on it, that she had bought about five years earlier. She bought it so she would have something "decent" to wear if she had to go to the hospital. But any time she stayed in the hospital, she wouldn't let my mother bring it to her because she didn't want it to get ripped by a procedure or stolen. So this lovely nightgown just sat in her drawer.
The other was a beautiful Christmas candle, a six inch pillar that had a classic plaid design on the outside, including a thin windowpane pattern done in gold glitter. I know, it sounds a little tacky, but it wasn't. When I found it on the top shelf of her pantry, my mom said something like, "Oh, she's had that for years. She thought it was too pretty to burn." The wick was brand new. It had never been lit.
I understood wanting to use it as a seasonal decoration. And it was pretty. But I'm sure it wasn't a $25 candle or anything like that. And it made me sad that she had not had the opportunity to sit and enjoy the flame of the candle with a neighbor or by herself. I took the candle home with me and that Christmas I lit it to remember and honor my grandmother.
But I also decided that I would not die with unlit candles. If I'm going to buy something for myself I'm going to enjoy it fully. The ancient Greeks had a concept of perfection that understood that something was "perfect" (as in complete) only when it was used for the purpose for which it was intended. Candles are meant to be burned.
Many of us see something that we love and buy it but then feel guilty about it. But we don't return it to the place we bought it. We keep it, often hidden away, and feel guilty about it. We don't use it because we don't feel worthy of having it. It may be "too flashy", "too expensive" or "too nice" to use. But it seems to me that just having it is wrong all the way around.
It's not perfect unless it's used. It's literally useless (even though it may have great potential) unless it's used. So why would you spend good money on something that is absolutely useless, not even offering you the pleasure of appreciation?
And furthermore, if it is worth having it is worth you using it. You are worth the pleasure of using and enjoying it. If you can't, give it away or sell it! But I encourage you to wear the perfume on a daily basis, to put on the pretty blouse even if you're not going somewhere special, eat the special chutney, use the beautiful pen, light the candle. They are just things. They have no worth at all if they are not used. If you can't use them by yourself, use them when you have company or if you're going somewhere yourself. Honor yourself, honor those you love by using the "good china" of your life.
You know, yesterday in Bed, Bath, and Beyond I saw a candle and thought, "Oh, that looks like Nanny's Christmas candle!" I think I'm going to go back and buy it. And this Christmas Day I will light and give thanks for the gifts of love.
It reminded me of cleaning out my grandmother's apartment when she died. Now, Nanny had a very small apartment and she was very generous about giving things away. I never left her house as an adult without taking something home with me that she insisted I have -- an electric coffee pot, a cast iron skillet, a picture for my living room, a piece of jewelry...but when she died we found two items that made me very sad.
One we knew about. It was the pretty nightgown, brand new, with the tags still on it, that she had bought about five years earlier. She bought it so she would have something "decent" to wear if she had to go to the hospital. But any time she stayed in the hospital, she wouldn't let my mother bring it to her because she didn't want it to get ripped by a procedure or stolen. So this lovely nightgown just sat in her drawer.
The other was a beautiful Christmas candle, a six inch pillar that had a classic plaid design on the outside, including a thin windowpane pattern done in gold glitter. I know, it sounds a little tacky, but it wasn't. When I found it on the top shelf of her pantry, my mom said something like, "Oh, she's had that for years. She thought it was too pretty to burn." The wick was brand new. It had never been lit.
I understood wanting to use it as a seasonal decoration. And it was pretty. But I'm sure it wasn't a $25 candle or anything like that. And it made me sad that she had not had the opportunity to sit and enjoy the flame of the candle with a neighbor or by herself. I took the candle home with me and that Christmas I lit it to remember and honor my grandmother.
But I also decided that I would not die with unlit candles. If I'm going to buy something for myself I'm going to enjoy it fully. The ancient Greeks had a concept of perfection that understood that something was "perfect" (as in complete) only when it was used for the purpose for which it was intended. Candles are meant to be burned.
Many of us see something that we love and buy it but then feel guilty about it. But we don't return it to the place we bought it. We keep it, often hidden away, and feel guilty about it. We don't use it because we don't feel worthy of having it. It may be "too flashy", "too expensive" or "too nice" to use. But it seems to me that just having it is wrong all the way around.
It's not perfect unless it's used. It's literally useless (even though it may have great potential) unless it's used. So why would you spend good money on something that is absolutely useless, not even offering you the pleasure of appreciation?
And furthermore, if it is worth having it is worth you using it. You are worth the pleasure of using and enjoying it. If you can't, give it away or sell it! But I encourage you to wear the perfume on a daily basis, to put on the pretty blouse even if you're not going somewhere special, eat the special chutney, use the beautiful pen, light the candle. They are just things. They have no worth at all if they are not used. If you can't use them by yourself, use them when you have company or if you're going somewhere yourself. Honor yourself, honor those you love by using the "good china" of your life.
You know, yesterday in Bed, Bath, and Beyond I saw a candle and thought, "Oh, that looks like Nanny's Christmas candle!" I think I'm going to go back and buy it. And this Christmas Day I will light and give thanks for the gifts of love.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Oh, Really?
I saw a bumper sticker yesterday that had me sputtering all the way up I-495. It read: " FYI Mr. President, I did It by myself!"
Now, this gave me pause for a second -- having been an adolescent in the '70's, doing "it" takes my thoughts in directions I know this person did not intend. I think that they meant they "made it" by themselves.
But they are wrong. Sure, you may have made good choices and lucky choices, worked hard and achieved financial success. But no one under the age of 80 or 90 in this country has made it by themselves.
I have heard people say of a wealthy entrepreneur, "Well, he/she worked hard for what they got." And this is usually true. But lots of people work long, hard hours at much lower pay rates for the good of community, and this is where the real issue lies for me. Because even working hard, you had a system in place that assured you an education, the ability to use communications, that maintained utilities and transportation, that kept you from childhood disease and disabilities that were common 100 years ago, that provided you with access to materials and protected your business when you developed it.
The question is not whether or not we have to pay taxes. Every civilized society needs to have a contribution to the common good. So the question is not whether or not we should pay taxes, but whether or not our taxes are going to improve the common good. Do we live in a better environment, a better world because of our contributions? Would we live in a better world if we relied on the generosity of those who have more to take care of those who have less?
Anecdotal evidence suggests not. Being a Calvinist by nature, having seen a fair share of human tendency towards sin, I am less than optimistic about our willingness to take care of those we do not identify as being "one of us", however we draw the boundaries of "us." There are certainly frauds and abusers of our social safety net, but if it feeds hungry children and keeps them from dying of asthma and other treatable illnesses, I think it improves all of our lives. I don't have a problem with programs that ask for some kind of reciprocity, like the "workfare" or "learnfare" programs of the '90s, if they also take into account that mothers cannot work or study without someone to care for their children and that childcare cannot be the mere warehousing of children. That means that we need to provide teachers and work programs that contribute to the common good.
Are mistakes made? Of course. Government workers are neither angels nor monsters, not geniuses nor idiots. They make mistakes. The question is, do we really believe that life was better for most people when there were no government regulations on working hours nor a minimum wage?
We have all benefited from government programs. My grandfather fed his family during the Great Depression by working a WPA project. Many of our fathers and grandfathers went to college on the GI Bill, enabling us to be born into far better circumstances than we would have otherwise. Many of us were able to extend our publicly funded primary and secondary educations with the help of government backed college loans. We were all protected from people who put arsenic in milk and sold sugared alcohol as "medicine" by the FDA. Polio, diphtheria, typhus and "childhood diseases" that were regular killers have been practically eradicated by required (and often state-funded) vaccinations. The Interstate highway system has dramatically reduced the time it takes us to get somewhere for a vacation, to transport goods (thus increasing the availability of non-local foods when they are out of season or simply won't grow where we live), and to ensure a faster response time in national and civic emergencies by first responders. And regardless of their politics, most of our retirees get pretty surly when you suggest cutting Social Security or Medicare benefits.
FYI, no one does it by themselves.
Now, this gave me pause for a second -- having been an adolescent in the '70's, doing "it" takes my thoughts in directions I know this person did not intend. I think that they meant they "made it" by themselves.
But they are wrong. Sure, you may have made good choices and lucky choices, worked hard and achieved financial success. But no one under the age of 80 or 90 in this country has made it by themselves.
I have heard people say of a wealthy entrepreneur, "Well, he/she worked hard for what they got." And this is usually true. But lots of people work long, hard hours at much lower pay rates for the good of community, and this is where the real issue lies for me. Because even working hard, you had a system in place that assured you an education, the ability to use communications, that maintained utilities and transportation, that kept you from childhood disease and disabilities that were common 100 years ago, that provided you with access to materials and protected your business when you developed it.
The question is not whether or not we have to pay taxes. Every civilized society needs to have a contribution to the common good. So the question is not whether or not we should pay taxes, but whether or not our taxes are going to improve the common good. Do we live in a better environment, a better world because of our contributions? Would we live in a better world if we relied on the generosity of those who have more to take care of those who have less?
Anecdotal evidence suggests not. Being a Calvinist by nature, having seen a fair share of human tendency towards sin, I am less than optimistic about our willingness to take care of those we do not identify as being "one of us", however we draw the boundaries of "us." There are certainly frauds and abusers of our social safety net, but if it feeds hungry children and keeps them from dying of asthma and other treatable illnesses, I think it improves all of our lives. I don't have a problem with programs that ask for some kind of reciprocity, like the "workfare" or "learnfare" programs of the '90s, if they also take into account that mothers cannot work or study without someone to care for their children and that childcare cannot be the mere warehousing of children. That means that we need to provide teachers and work programs that contribute to the common good.
Are mistakes made? Of course. Government workers are neither angels nor monsters, not geniuses nor idiots. They make mistakes. The question is, do we really believe that life was better for most people when there were no government regulations on working hours nor a minimum wage?
We have all benefited from government programs. My grandfather fed his family during the Great Depression by working a WPA project. Many of our fathers and grandfathers went to college on the GI Bill, enabling us to be born into far better circumstances than we would have otherwise. Many of us were able to extend our publicly funded primary and secondary educations with the help of government backed college loans. We were all protected from people who put arsenic in milk and sold sugared alcohol as "medicine" by the FDA. Polio, diphtheria, typhus and "childhood diseases" that were regular killers have been practically eradicated by required (and often state-funded) vaccinations. The Interstate highway system has dramatically reduced the time it takes us to get somewhere for a vacation, to transport goods (thus increasing the availability of non-local foods when they are out of season or simply won't grow where we live), and to ensure a faster response time in national and civic emergencies by first responders. And regardless of their politics, most of our retirees get pretty surly when you suggest cutting Social Security or Medicare benefits.
FYI, no one does it by themselves.
Friday, November 2, 2012
What Happened?
I remember the first time a grocery bagger called me "M'am". I was just 30 and felt ancient. Today a grocery bagger called me "Miss", and I felt even older. My hairdresser called me, "Hon" and I looked around for my walker. How did I get this old?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)