Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday my friend took me to Rosie the Riverter National Monument and we saw two films about the Richmond Shipyards during World War II and then a park ranger, Betty Reed Salosky spoke.  She was amazing.  It was as inspiring as hearing Shirley Chishom all those years ago.  She is 95, and just returned from 10 days in Washington, D.C., celebrating the opening of the African American Museum on the Mall.  She worked in a segregated factory in Richmond as a 20 year old, as part of the war effort.  Her grandmother was a slave.  She has seen so much history, and is so wise with such perspective.  I'll never forget her speak.  Living history or oral history is so much the best.  World War II was the beginning of the civil rights movement that gained momentum in the sixties, and the gradual integration and acceptance of women, blacks, and other races and ethnicities in the shipyards was a powerful force for change.  I wish every American could hear Betty speak and I can't imagine a better time than before the election.  She's on YouTube, because she gave a talk last year at Google and they videoed it.  Introduce yourself to an amazing woman, and listen and learn.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night I had long talks with two best buds.  It sure beats any movie or book for me.  I see another friend today and tomorrow still another.  I also take my foster granddaughter out to dinner.  This weekend is our younger daughter's baby shower, so lots of joy to come.  My connective tissue to my friends needs strengthening occasionally, and this is one of those weeks.  Can I stand alone?  I never try to find out.  As a friend of mine says, I'm tribal.  With a lot of my biological family gone, I lean on my chosen family.  We're here for each other through big and small events and rites of passage.  I've been to my kids' graduations and weddings without one blood relative, but the room was full.  My kids count on my friends as honorary aunts and uncles.  So here's to  the families we chose to love and be loyal to and be there in the hard times and good ones.  The human family, as an old book would have it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I avoided the debate last night.  I'm done thinking about persuasion and reason.  This election is about polarization, and I'm not sure how that can be countered, except holding the media's feet to the fire and hoping for a calming down that doesn't seem forthcoming.  I did errands this morning and put up Halloween decorations - how appropriate!  This afternoon I will call a childhood friend and read a magazine and relax.  Last night I saw "The Free State of Jones", a remarkable movie starring Matthew McConnahey, and this true story inspires and yet illuminates the dark history after the Civil War, and the long struggle for freedom that is still being waged.  Again, it seems rational that the poor would not trust the rich, yet in the South the poor blamed African Americans for the war and their dire circumstances, when it was the Confederate Army taking away their food and means of surviving.  I wish everyone could see this film, but I doubt many did or will.  Did you know their was an independent country in Mississippi after the war for a few years?  Neither did I?  We're not a nation crazy about history, even our own.  Looking the Civil War in the eye might benefit us, but we stay in rigid stances from old prejudices and myths.  If we can't see our country clearly, we won't be able to avoid repeating past mistakes.  But that's a tall order, and I haven't much faith that many will make the effort to learn from our past.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I had a high old time catching up and discussing our family relationships this morning.  Her mother, who lives with her now, is visiting her sister across the country and asked my friend if she missed her.  Of course my friend said she did, and her mother, in her nineties, said when and how.  Now her mother has only been gone a week, but my friend said seeing her face, having dinner with her, talking with her.  But really, my friend is appreciating the break and enjoying it.  Right speech was answering the way her mother wished, rather than strictly honestly.  Her mother knows she must return and live again with her older daughter.  The younger daughter is not willing or able to have her.  But she wants her daughter to WANT her, instead of appreciating that she has a kind, safe home here and is so well looked after.  What's the harm?  Her mother doesn't need honesty.  Her mother wants a story.  Her mother wants her two daughters vying for her attention.  Her mother is wrenched about which coast to live on, and really has no choice, since she does not want to go into assisted living either place.  My friend understands all this and freely attempts to ease her mind.  But she's loving the break, naturally.  We're all funny in these ways.  We want you to tell the lie, knowing it is so, but adhering to the form of family relations.  Let's have the fairy tale, even if reality is not so bad.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's hot for us this weekend here, but today there is a breeze, and for those of us who weathered the firestorm years ago that breeze is unsettling.  Then, for me personally, there is the fact that today is the thirtieth anniversary of my father's death.  Yes, it gets easier, but it doesn't go away.  He would delight in so many things were he here:  his great grandchildren, how well his grandchildren have turned out, travel, golf, perhaps a little dog of his own again.  He definitely would have remarried, and we would have laughed together.  He became less judgemental as he got older, and he was more open to new ideas and speaking about his feelings.  He might have talked about his childhood, his parents, the war.  So much lost.  Of course by dying he has missed the death of his son.  The person who unintentionally broke his heart in a way no other could have.  I know for certain he never would have stopped loving any of us.  I aspire to some of his qualities and attempt to overcome others.  He was ultra competitive, and I've weeded that out of myself.  But his loyalty and devotion to family I carry on as best I can.
So there is a sadness in the air for me.  The fear of fire, the drought, the political climate, the abuse of our natural resources, the passing on of the generations.  I'm praying for healing and letting go and fighting for what's good in the world, all at the same time.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm feeling grateful that on the way back from visiting my grandson today I listened to an NPR program on the Normandy school district in Fergeson, Missouri.  A journalist from the New York Times did an investigative piece about the place were Michael Brown was shot and killed.  He had just graduated from high school.  What she discovered was a failed school district and a state that allowed segregation to persist up until sixteen years ago, and even now, encourages black kids to tolerate inadequate schools rather than transfer to schools where they stand a chance to learn.  I was in tears by the end, and listening to white parents' anger when finally the kids were allowed to be bused thirty miles to a decent, mostly white school sheds light on our current election tone and anger.  There is not even a pretense of caring for these kids.  It's heartbreaking.  They are trapped in schools that don't train or support them in any way.  And the state is fine with this.  If you thought this was solved in the fifties, think again.  People have come up with new and creative ways to exclude people of color from their world.  And they buy houses where they feel guaranteed the right to have privledge and advantage over the poorer people in society.  I feel ashamed.  I thought we were better than this.  I know, I live in a bubble.  But my bubble at least includes minorities and busing to integrate the schools.  My congressional representative is black.  I know how difficult it is to be black in our culture, and what it means to face prejudice night and day.  I don't want to reverse what progress we have made.  I pray hate does not triumph over tolerance and willingness to seek out our other and know them.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's a fine line between galvanizing voters and demoralizing them.  They want money, so they want to scare you a bit, but also make you a part of their "team".  I've never been a team sport player, so all the rah rah doesn't do much for me, and I'm already scared, thank you very much.  Somehow the ten emails a day I receive depress me, and I now delete them.  Every few days I give some money, but the sense of being part of something has been lost.  To me it feels like a bad dream that I wish were over.  Fatigue has set in, and my hope quotient is at empty.  Frankly, I have no ideas about how the candidates might do it better.  If we had a reasonable cap on election spending that would help, but people always get around these hurdles.  We could feed the world or we can continue this circus onslaught of promises, and threats and empty speech. 
Empty speech is draining.  It hollows me out inside and what gets filled up is despair.  I'm meditating and attempting to pay attention to birds and cats on front porches and ignore the chaos.  I have to protect myself.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I failed my driving test and have to retake in in two weeks.  The guy was nice, I just almost turned left onto a one way street when he told me to turn left.  I was so nervous I hadn't slept the night before much, and my brain was sluggish.  I knew the minute I asked him "hard left or soft left?" that I should not turn, but it was too late.  I hadn't read the sign first, and though I turned soft left, my words betrayed me.  I feel so stupid.
The right speech aspect of this morning was waiting in line, I met a woman who was 89 and was taking her test again, and, as it turned out, for macular degeneration in one eye as well.  I was surprised.  "You can take the test again?" I asked and she affirmed you could.  So when I knew I had failed my test I had hope I could do it again.  And even better, this lady had had macular generation in one eye for 32 years, and yet the other eye had not yet failed.  I've had a bad eye for 11 years.  Maybe I've got a few good years left in me! 
I feel very sorry for myself, but I haven't lost my perspective completely.  I'll live to fight another day.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The media seems to be representing the worst kind of speech:  the running off at the mouth, anything said to get your attention kind of speech.  When speech is about getting your attention, then thoughtfulness and balance and responsibility go out the window.  We have evolved into an impulsive media with frenzy instead of calm and hype instead of facts.  There is no place for rationality.  My friend told me yesterday that she was listening, with her husband, to a news source that normally is internationally minded and fair, but instead they did a brief clip of Clinton, then lingered on a clip of Trump sounding reasonable, then followed with a Trump supporter.  He got nine tenths of the time and all of it free.  This bodes ill for the debates if the moderators are seduced by the lure of Trump's astounding comments.  Everyone seems to love a news flash.
I guess the only alternative is to read speeches of both candidates in full.  The interpretations are supremely suspect.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My next door neighbors, who have not occupied the house in ten years, and mostly live back East, stopped me to ask about their recycling can.  I was restraintful:  I said I didn't know or notice where it can gone.  They show up four or five times a year for a couple of days, and act as if I am their housekeeper.  This despite the fact that they have a housekeeper who comes in once a week to the empty house and polishes it to perfection.  They presume on neighborliness, though they show none themselves.  I guess I'm grateful they haven't turned it into an air bnb, but I'd like real people next door for security, sense of friendliness, and peace of mind.  Every time their house alarm goes off I wonder, and yet I've learned to let it be.  Their alarm company will call it in.  I don't actually think anyone has succeeded in robbing the place.  And I long ago decided it was not my responsibility, and though I have a key, I haven't used it since the first year or two; once when their gardener needed to turn off the watering system and once when the owners called and asked me to check if the house had been broken into.  That was risky of me, and I thought better of it after.  I won't do that again.
So I bear up silently with their clear assumption that I am somehow guarding their property.  But they are on their own as far as I'm concerned.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Ah, my friend is giving a baby shower for my daughter, and one person invited, in her late eighties, is appearing to be confused.  Up until now she has been sharp as a tack, but I've explained to her that the invites are on email, and this lady doesn't have email.  I've verbally told her the date, the time, the place, and that it is a brunch three times at least, but she has talked to another friend, indignant about the lack of paper, and today I found out she has bothered the hostess as well.  This elderly lady is a tiger, and prone to resentment.  She has somehow cooked up in her head that she's been deprived of an elegant invitation.  Her speech is not appropriate, but I'm not worried about that; everyone knows she is a bulldozer.  I'm wondering if her cognition is impaired.  Is she forgetting each time that she has already been told all the details?  Has she had a small stroke?
So my right speech is to follow this up in some way, and be sure she's okay.  I'm going to call a friend, and if she doesn't know, I'll try to reach one of the lady's daughters.  It's concerning, and the real thing she may be attempting to convey is a need for help.  Someone to notice.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday the radio flyer wagon we ordered for our grandson's birthday arrived.  Today I decided I'd better put it together and make sure everything was there.  First my husband yelled that he was not putting it together.  Now I'd done the gift getting, and was willing to help, and it was his turn to step up to the plate.  But wisely, I said nothing.  Ten minutes later he said he'd assemble it and we opened the box and surveyed the nuts, bolts etc and got started.  It wasn't easy, but all the parts were in the box and together we got it done in about an hour.  But it would still be in the box if I had yelled back at him that I'd done everything for the gifts up until now, and it was the least he could do.  I let him cool down, and he did.  This is a long marriage.  I know when and how to pick my battles, and I understand that inside my husband's head he's already saying he should help.  I just need to give him time to do so.
The wagon looks great, and way to big for a one year old, but it's a useful item for throwing toys in and taking them out, moving the tires, going to the garden store and bringing back plants with the one year old in the middle, and making forts or imagining transport vehicles from another planet.  It's BIGNESS will impress our grandson.  A boy needs his wagon.  And his grandparents need all their experience and wisdom to navigate this old world.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I saw a sweet movie last night:  "The Meddler" with Susan Sarandon.  She portrays a woman who's husband has died and she moves across the country to be near her daughter.  She's at loose ends, and lonely.  You expect that her meddling in other people's lives will end badly, but it doesn't.  People appreciate her in a way her daughter cannot.  Her one failure is getting her daughter back together with her ex boyfriend.  Those scenes are realistic, and the gratitude shown by a young black guy she helps, a woman in the hospital, a young mother who is still wishing for a big wedding, and others feels just as real.  Her becoming a "grandmother" to the young mother's daughter is right.  There is a need and she fills it.  I did this myself ten years ago, and have never regretted it.  The Sarandon character is funny, and sometimes wrong, and way too intrusive around her daughter, but she is dignified, and given her due for struggling about how to go on after her husband's death.  We seldom see on screen older characters so fully alive and multidimensional.  The film speaks about people and situations and feelings that we don't see on screen among the young and beautiful.  I felt respected after the movie was over.  As if someone had seen the "real" me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a nice long walk with a friend this morning, and we talked about personal, private stuff that we felt like whining about.  We trust each other enough to appear less than noble to each other.  We're human, and that means getting frustrated and our feelings occasionally being trampled on and disappointments happening.  We can gripe about stuff and know it's just letting off steam.  It keeps us behaving well with the people who raise our hackles.  To me it's healthy.  My friend doesn't think less of me, she feels relieved that less than noble thoughts occur to others besides herself.  It's essential to have a little "saying the wrong thing" time.  So that to the people with whom we are exasperated we can be steady and calm, and not impulsive.
I treasure my friends for this reason as much as for what we do together and advice we sometimes give each other.  A well rounded friend can see you without the makeup and party face on.  The blemishes are there, and it's not a pretty picture, but it's a true picture of your friend.  She's like you, and how comforting is that1

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm done with the colonoscopy and have just had a nice breakfast, so naturally I'm in a rosy state of mind.  The nurses were wonderful and I felt in good hands.  Before I went in and after I returned, I could hear nurses talking to other patients and there was some drama.  One woman had health issues that meant she could not have aneasthia, and would have to reschedule, and another was anxious enough to be talking about his basketball playing son nonstop when he wasn't telling a convoluted story that didn't appear to make any sense at all.  We were certainly a Chatty Cathy group of patients, and the nurses kept up with us and ran around between us.  I heard one nurse assuring the guy she'd be right back to hear the rest about his basketball playing son.  Now that is right speech!
We were all in this thing called health care together, and determined to be cheerful.  Wow! 
I learn a lot about interconnectedness at the doctor's office or with procedures.  I witness compassion, courage and kindness.  I'd like to see the same behavior on the street, at work, at school, at home.  We clearly have the capacity, we just need to exercise it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm gearing up for a colonoscopy, which means my socializing is dampened considerably.  Eye injection:  check.  Colonoscopy:  check.  Mammogram:  check.  Bone Density:  check.  Next up:  skin cancer exam.  Then the dreaded driver's test.  Luckily, there has been much merriment in between:  a big birthday bash for my husband with the whole crew, an upcoming baby shower for my daughter, a grandson's first birthday, holidays and other birthdays.  Isn't that just the way?!  Life is all mixed up with worry and anticipation and laughter and tears.
Today I'm going to read my murder mystery, eat chicken broth and perhaps talk to a couple of people on the phone.  On the weekend I'll get out and be among humanity more.  Maybe even take in a movie and stroll around the neighborhood.  And eat solid food again.  Yeah!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We've just returned from a long weekend celebration of my husband's birthday, and everything went smoothly for thirteen people plus a baby.  A lot of effort driving and accomodating others was put in by all, and having a swimming pool and lots of places to walk without getting in a car helped a lot.  There was so much right speech and restraint from impulsive speech; all done out of love and respect for each other.  Now we're all back to our respective homes but the glow lingers and the knitting together than occurred is not undone. 
I'm a great believer in ritual.  A friend calls me tribal and that is so true.  Occasions must be marked and honoring done.  It benefits the honoree and the people paying respect.  And fun is an important component.  We want the memories to be light and happy, so that if there are serious touches we don't come away feeling weighted.  And photos help, to bring back the moments.  I'm about to look at mine on my phone, and relive a bit the magic.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we're leaving for a birthday celebration for my husband.  All the kids and grandkids will be there.  I feel great joy and excitement at the prospect, but also danger at the speech disasters that may be lurking.  I want to be fully awake and careful, yet detached enough to let impulsive speech roll over me.  I'm fortunate that I have a practice that aids me.  My husband does not.  He's anxious, and would suffer either way:  devastated if nothing was done for his birthday yet dreading how he might offend or be offended.  I could tell him to lighten up, but it's not a gear he possesses.  So I have to detach from his anxiety and enjoy my family without rescuing anyone.  Quite a high wire act, but one many of us do when reunions and celebrations occur.  Nothing is simple.  Immediate feeling is intertwined with history and expectation and serendipity.  Swimming in the turbulent waters with all these feelings requires both a letting go and compassion.  We're only human after all.  I'm going to embrace our frailties and foibles and have fun.  And take pictures.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm fascinated by the research coming out of Hungary about dogs and language.  They convinced dogs to remain motionless in a MRI machine for eight minutes to scan their brains and discovered they DO know certain words and respond favorably to positive praise regardless of tone or emphasis.  And how they convinced these dogs to remain motionless without treats or punishment was because the dogs wanted to do what the other dogs were doing, and yes, after the scan, they got treats.  The dogs tolerated headphones and immobilization because they thought it was cool.  And they proved they understood "good dog" no matter how it was articulated.  Their brains were stimulated by praise.
Now that sounds like a fine description of how humans operate as well.  Certainly it is how children learn.  Positive reinforcement, as it is called.  I'm seeing it whenever I visit my baby grandson.  Encouragement makes the brain glow.  We are programed to want to make others happy and do what others do.  It is pretty basic.  In the photo of the dogs on grouped around the MRI machine posed perfectly, their smiles shine with pride.  Seeing it, I can't help but grin with joy.