Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I saw the mayor of Portland was asking that two alt right rallies be canceled in the wake of the murders of two men defending two young Muslim women.  The ACLU is insisting the rallies take place due to the guarantee of free speech.  I'm finding myself on the side of the mayor, who doesn't want more bloodshed or excuses for violence in the city.  It seems that the purpose of these alt right people is to try to be as provoking as possible to incite violence.  If the officials of the city cannot protect their citizens then this becomes a dangerous and harmful situation.  The alt right picks cities that have a liberal bent, like Portland and Berkeley,  to stage confrontations.  The "actors" and I do mean actors, are purposefully causing a fracas to lure media coverage.  Some of these people possess criminal intent and don't belong to or represent the populace of the city.  If there is a chance that innocent people will be hurt or killed, then the gathering should not take place.  Would it help if our president condemned the violence?  I'm not sure it matters, though the moral thing to do would be to disown these fringe people.  They are in it for anarchy, and free speech is a smoke screen.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Boy, is it hard to detach and not take sides.  If neither side is mine, I at least know to stay out of it.  Because this is not a police procedural mystery, this is life.  And in life, speech is murky, and intonation and expression are game changers.  I do not see myself as Solomon, and anyway, I do not think Solomon made a wise choice.  Lots of people want to be judge and jury:  they're in the newspapers every single day.  But I do not.  The several times I've served on a jury I felt uncomfortable.  In one case, the prosecutor did such a lousy job that a perpetrator got off.  Another time, the accused had a terrible defense team.  He was guilty, but his life was going to be ruined because he was a target:  a Hispanic in a beat up truck.  He harmed no one.  So I don't have confidence in the system.  When I worked in safehouses, lawyers used to subpoena us to prove the battered women was an unfit mother and didn't deserve custody of the kids because she'd been in a safehouse.  Never mind the husband had broken her arm and scared the children.  Truth is murky and hard to discern.  I'm still working on my own truths, and have no qualifications to judge others'.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

As I get older I become more quiet.  I listen, but often I don't respond, at least not beyond paraphrasing what the other person has said.  I don't want to engage in debate, and have no desire to convince someone else of my point of view.  I'm okay now with people seeing the world differently, and know that all reality is subjective.  So I'm not as passionate, especially if I can see another side of an issue.  I'm still an enthusiast for certain operas or books or music, and if the other person is interested, can describe in great detail why that book affected me so deeply.  But that is about explaining who I am, not demanding that the other agree.  And I have to trust that person, really trust him or her, to even put out that energy.  I'm more comfortable in my own skin these days, which is strange and new, but welcome.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I made a suggestion yesterday that turned out well.  My daughter had wanted to get away for Memorial Day weekend, and couldn't book reservations where she wanted to go on the coast.  I said go up to our cabin.  Your father has opened it up.  She was doubtful, but her husband became enthusiastic.  So last night they drove the three hours with the baby asleep in the carseat and their dying cat along for the ride.  She called this morning and she and the baby were on the deck looking at the trees, his favorite thing.  The weather is better there and the lake is up and the air fresh.  She's away, and will feel refreshed when she returns.  Usually I hold my tongue, but I'm glad I didn't this time.  My daughter had kind of forgotten that the cabin is there, and everytime we go up we realize how lucky we are to have it.  Ancient trees, mountains, a crystal clear lake:  what's not to like?  I feel happy that they are enjoying the first taste of summer. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm in a bind.  There is only a week and a half this summer that we have plans to go away, and that week has been when everyone wants to do something with us.  I thought I'd explained it all to all my kids, but now I'm going to be losing and opportunity to see my granddaughter.  You'd think something could be worked out, but the kids have their plans and they definitely clash with this trip we're taking.  I've got to let go of magically somehow making things work out.  This is beyond my superpowers!  I've been perhaps over responsible in the past, and I find it torture to say no to my kids, but slowly I'm learning that I can't orchestrate this family any more.  They are way grown, and I'm no longer in charge of anything.  But the familiar guilt hits me anyway, reasonable or not.  Same old, same old.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been composing little poems about my grandchildren and some friends in the writing group are urging me to collect them into a little chapbook.  I never had the intention of doing the poems, they just reflected what was on my mind.  But now I'm listening to the advice and thinking it would be a lovely thing to do for the children so that when I'm gone they'll know what my experience of them was when they were young.  This grandparent thing is amazing and tricky; like balancing on a high beam.  It is also joyful and profound.  Through the grandchildren I've seen again my children, their parents, and also myself as a child and my parents.  The memories resurge and the interpretation is new.  I've been given an opportunity to see a grander scale of life, and how complex families are.  I appreciate these new insights, and my perspective has widened as a result.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Tonight is my writing group, and it has been the site of much right speech.  Truth is told both in our discussions and with the pieces we write.  Safety makes this possible.  We trust each other with what we say and write and do not share any of it with others.  This week I was tempted to share with my husband some news that was in a piece by one of the participants, who is also a close family friend.  But I resisted, because it wasn't the agreement.  Tonight I'll ask her if I may share the news, and if she agrees, I'll tell him.  But this is about something informational, not deep, or about feelings.  Women sometimes have a tough time keeping stuff private.  I've learned that the hard way.  But this group is tested and true, and I know I can be myself when I speak and in what I write.  It's a safe haven.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I notice in the news that after lamblasting Hillary Clinton last year for not wearing a headscarf in Saudi Arabia, Trump's wife and daughter did not wear a scarf on their visit this week.  This appears to be another example of Trump's version of exceptionalism:  he is the exception to any rules, traditions or protocols.  Now, I would not want the Trump ladies to wear a scarf, I merely point out that evidently Trump was raised to believe that he's above the rules, any etiquette or patterns of mere mortals.  This attitude is deeply disturbing to me.  He would not want anyone hitting on "his" women, but he can abuse any woman he chooses.  Others should reveal their taxes, but not him.  He probably thinks bullying is wrong for others as well, but he has good reasons for his bad behavior.  I keep wondering if he's capable of empathy at all.  Certainly, he seems not to care how he hurts others when he name calls (calling Comey a "nut job").  Yet he's notoriously thin skinned himself.  This is the behavior of a toddler, and even some toddlers are capable of compassion and empathy.  How did this man end up our President?!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I received an email today about my older daughter's new job.  It's exciting for her, and she seems on fire these days.  Women in their forties often find their passion and reach for it as their kids grow older and they feel freed up by getting a lot of the experimenting under their belts.  It's so wonderful to watch these grown kids soar and reach out and mentor younger people.  I'm happy for her and for all the people she will touch.  Changing and growing is what we're about and I love being a witness for my kids.
Last night my almost six months old grandson went out to dinner for his father's birthday and made it through like a champion.  It helped that he had his onesie with the tie on it:  he was prepared.  He looked out the window from my lap and watched the people parade, talked and was the life of the party until around seven, his bedtime.  Then it was on to mommy and daddy and then a pacing outside until we got up to leave.  He's growing and changing so fast. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I strolled my grandson a different way today and discovered a little park with a play structure shaped like a boat and lovely shady trees.  But I will never go there again, because the homeless wander around wrapped in blankets, and in the trash bin were items like a bra, glass bottles and stuff dangerous to children.  No doubt the grass is full of needles and condoms.  There were a couple of kids there, but I quickly passed by knowing it was unsafe, and though I have great sympathy for the homeless and those who should be receiving treatment and medication, they are driving away families and taking over, I know out of desperation, but nevertheless.  A park closer to me had this problem many years ago and the houses across the street organized and fought to clean up the park and patrol the area.  What was a toddler park that was disgusting and dangerous is now a happy place with many children and parents.  Maybe some neighbors will rally over this park I saw today as well, or speak out and turn it around.  And maybe they will speak out about housing and treatment for those who are wandering lost as little children themselves.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I have a friend who babysits her granddaughter and had a health scare recently.  We talked on the phone last night and I could hear her pride that she identified the problem and her daughter and son-in-law took the toddler to the emergency room and all is well.  She wondered about what might have happened if someone less experienced or who had not witnessed that event had been in charge of her granddaughter.  We grandparents do have our uses.  We've been around the block a few times or rather in the emergency room.  I've taken my kids for:  stitches, stomach pumping, broken bones, a fall, and various other scary incidents.  I've toughened up and am no longer the mother who wrapped her son's head in a towel so his brains wouldn't spill out (the cut, from his little friend shoveling his head, turned out to be only a matter of stitches, no brains leaked!).  Her confidence reminded me that my experience is valuable and my diligence intense, because I KNOW accidents happen and kids need checking out and if something looks funny better see what's going on.  Yeah, grandmas!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My baby grandson had quite a meltdown this morning.  All the usual tricks and distractions did not work.  He was miserable.  He cried no matter what I did, so I took him on an early stroll and he slept.  He was fussy when we returned, but after his second bottle he underwent a sea change, and was his normal cheerful self.  The fact that he can't tell me what is wrong is maddening.  I never figured it out, and his lack of speech doesn't normally hinder me:  I change his diaper and he's happy, I pick him up and cuddle him and he's happy, I show him trees and he's happy.  But this morning all his favorite things made him cry.  It was a blanket rejection of the world for a couple of hours.  It could be teething, but it's definitely a mystery.  I'm going to double down on trying to say clear words to him, and maybe try signs.  My toddler grandson learned a few and it helped.  Though I've a feeling the baby had no idea what was wrong, so that wouldn't work.  Oh, dear.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I spent the day with my younger son, his fiance, my younger daughter, her husband, and their six month old baby.  We went to a farmer's market and bought things for a barbeque, then went to a street faire, then came back and made the meal.  We had a slow, relaxed pace and everyone felt good.  Here I am a mother with children who are mothers and fathers, and what a lovely circle it makes.  The day was warmer and sunnier than expected, we had fresh produce from the market, and in every way the experience felt healthy to me.  A gentle day.  I am blessed.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My parents were friends with a couple who the man worked with my father.  They had two sons younger than my brother and I.  Their younger son had Type 1 Diabetes, and my mother worked with his mother at a non-profit shop that raised money for a children's diabetic camp.  After I was grown, my parents discovered that the woman had been married with two kids in Virginia and the man had been the football coach at a college, and they'd had an affair that was found out.  Back in the day, that meant she lost custody of her children, and she didn't see them again for a couple of decades.  The secret was kept from her sons, and all the friends.  The younger son died at 21 when he went into a coma in his car, and slumped down and parked in a vast parking lot, was not found until days later.  My mother was devastated, and at this point the couple's past history also came out.  I always wondered if they felt punished for their affair.  She's probably dead like my mother, but I want to wish her a Happy Mother's Day.  She was a sweet woman, and raised four children and lost three of them for many years.  To not speak of her first two children must have been horrific.  She received no comfort, and the burden fell on her, not the coach husband.  May she rest in peace.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My mother was an amazing woman.  She only was allowed to go to school until third grade, as she had to help with the farm and her many siblings.  At fifteen, she moved to a nearby town to live in a hotel room with her older sister and younger brother.  She worked in a pants factory.  When she was nineteen she married my father, after her sweetheart died in the war.  I was born two years later.  She sewed and cooked and kept a spotless house.  I was not quite what she expected, and I got into mischief.  My brother was born 2 3/4 years later, and she was done.  I know she read to me, because I can remember it, and the books.  I was dressed like a china doll.  So was my brother.  I got my facility with children from her, and my love of crafts.  People never guessed she hadn't been to school or had come from such poor white trash.  She attracted friends wherever we lived.  She was amazing with design of clothing and home, a brilliant contract bridge player and a survivor of two cancers:  the first when she was just 34.  She had a fierceness about her that wouldn't give up, and she fought with my dad because it was necessary.  Otherwise he would have bulldozed her under.  I didn't appreciate her nearly enough and lost her when I was forty.  But I appreciate her now.  Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I serendipitously ran into a friend while I was out strolling my grandson.  We sat down on a bench and talked.  Clearly, my grandson was not going to be left out.  He woke up, slowly, then smiled at my friend as she talked to him.  Eventually, he began talking back to her.  Yes, he is majorly social.  He grinned and made noises and took over the conversation.  As far as he's concerned, it should always be about him.  And it is.  Babies are irresistable!  So she talked to him for fifteen minutes, then we said our goodbyes and strolled towards home, but now baby was disgruntled, because the sponaneous salon had been more fun than just strolling with grandma, even if she was singing to him all his favorite songs.  We returned, I heated up a bottle, and all was forgiven.  He doesn't hold a grudge.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm signing petitions and donating frequently, but the crazy quilt misbehavior and wrong speech of our current president it getting to me.  So many inappropriate if not illegal acts happen every single day.  Is this deliberate or the way CEOs operate?  Outside the law, skirting the law, defying the law.  And the only thing that seems to matter is winning over whoever is hampering the impulses.  The whole family seems to think they are going to make this Presidential gig turn a tidy profit for them.  Did nobody teach them manners?  I guess the rich have no rules and regulations:  those are for us saps.  Whatever you can get away with seems to be the motto they live by.  It's a horror show.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had an hour long conversation with my best friend today.  She just returned from a trip with her older sister.  She gave her sister the gift of her presence and care for a week.  Her sister has health problems and is struggling in other ways, and my friend has compassion.  I treasure that compassion and her general generosity in her life.  She has given so much support to me and my family, and is an honorary aunt to my kids.  For every important event she has stood by my side in the place of the sister I never had and the family that is gone.  She likes people.  I do as well.  Her connections are mulitiple and rich and she tends her garden of relationships like a master gardener.  I hope she has a lovely Mother's Day.  She deserves it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We saw a documentary film about Jane Jacobs yesterday:  "Citizen Jane:  Battle for the Cities".  I had loved her book "Death and Life in Great American Cities" when I read it years ago, and in the last couple of months I read a biography of her that was fascinating.  I really enjoyed the film, but my husband, who knew nothing about her, didn't like it as much.  He pointed out something I'd completely missed:  there is almost more film time on Robert Moses, her nemesis, than on her.  Maybe I'm used to women's stories being hijacked by men.  But when he pointed it out, I had to agree.  It seemed wrong that Moses should get as much time as he did, especially when it seemed that for people not familiar with Jacobs, like my husband, there was not enough background on her.  There were talking heads who praised and described her, but those as well were male except for a couple.  Moses swallowed up her time in the movie.  Is it just me, or are we all so comfortable with the mansplaining and domination of men in cultural areas that we fail to notice when an imbalance occurs? 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We didn't see the movie "Passengers" in the theater, but we watched it a couple of weeks ago and both found it disturbing.  This morning in the newspaper entertainment section there was an article about why it didn't do well at the box office.  People saw the Chris Pratt character as analogous to a person who commits date rape, only in this case he selects the most beautiful passenger and deliberately wakes her up so he won't be alone.  He thereby ensures she will not make it to the planet or have a choice in her life or friends or partner.  We've all read the newspaper articles about the abductor who is a "lone wolf" and he selects who he will capture and keep for himself.  And Jennifer Lawrence is so beautiful that the film becomes a fantasy where an ordinary guy grabs what he wants but doesn't deserve.  In the film she accuses him of "murdering" her, yet they end up in love.  It's not believable.  But what horrified me was the director and writer insisting it had never occurred to them that people would react to film in that way.  How ignorant and insensitive to women are they?  I bet the slasher film directors and writers wouldn't be so coy.  They know they're creepy and people going into the theater know a sick fantasy is at the center of the attraction.  But luckily, in this particular case, the moviegoers were not buying it.  So the film becomes an example of the insidious culture of date rape and control of women that hurts all of us.  It becomes a lesson.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a lovely, spontenaeous talk with a friend this morning.  We shared some parenting stuff as we both understand how complex and tricky parenting adult children can be.  Mainly, though I reveled in the fact that I've known her for over thirty years, we've watched each other's children grow up, marry, and have children and we've become grandparents.  And each day, we know that that our time is finite and we want to treasure the rest of what we are given.  We've gone through more than one career each, witnessed our parents die, and felt the loss of people our own age taken too soon.  So every word we speak is measured for truth and honesty.  We appreciate each other.  We are seen.  Whatever our flaws, mistakes or defects, our whole selves are accepted.  We are human, and we have to capacity to love.  That ability transcends all else.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We don't have many examples of right speech out there in the world.  Instead we have our president and congress and a whole bunch of people in love with the sound of their own voices.  Mostly Pope Francis and the Dalai Lama are the only figures showing reason and compassion.  Perhaps being a political leader predisposes a person to wrong speech.  Promises, promises, promises.  When the truth is spoken it is quite dramatic, but gets little attention.  Evidently, it doesn't "sell".  Luckily, I can read books for truth, though finding them is not easy.  I have authors I respect and listen to, both with non-fiction and fiction.  And some films as well.  We are hungry for the truth of our experience, so when a book like The Handmaid's Tale reappears and the TV miniseries pops up as well, we can see past rhetoric to the logical consequence of political decisions.  Let's just not listen to the blowhards.  Find your own sources of truth and protect and support them.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I had a walk with an old friend.  She asked about my recent trip, but interrupted before I began to describe in detail her last trip.  This is a familiar pattern.  She wants to tell me something, and can't quite stop herself from blurting out something that disturbed her.  I also know to keep my response light and easy.  She often gets mad at what I say in response.  This friend clearly wants to ease herself by telling me and also hearing what I think, but she's at the same time ready to do battle with my response.  She's had a hard life, and I am sympathetic to her vulnerabilities, so I give her slack and try not to rock the boat.  I know she rubs a lot of people the wrong way, but her heart is gold and she does the best she can.  So we have one sided conversations, but at least we've touched base and supported each other by our presence.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I bought two books today written by friend's relatives.  One was an historical romance written by my friend's daughter and other was a non-fiction book written by another friend's son-in-law's brother-in-law.  I'm realizing that the kids are all grown up!  It's their world now, and we are the witnesses to what they do.  I like to think of myself as still an actor, but really, I put no effort into publishing anymore, so it is I who have sat myself on the sidelines.  And it doesn't feel bad at all.  I don't have the energy, and I recognize the fact.  But it gives me great joy to see the younger folk out there, like my older daughter in a recent online magazine.  It's their turn, and I'm eager to listen to their voices.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Buddhist teacher, Anam Thubten, described in his talk "Right Intention", or beginning the morning each day with the thought to be kind to everyone and every being.  It's simple, and it sets the tone of my speech for the day.  If I open my mouth, I should be doing it for a positive, not negative purpose.  I've been praying at night:  May all beings be happy, may all beings be free.  But praying in the morning makes more sense, because all the activity will be occurring and interactions happening.  So I'm resolved to take the time to set this intention each morning and remind myself consciously that kindness transforms the world.  I have ample proof of this.  So many good experiences have come my way because I was open and friendly to the new, the startling, the different.  I call this serendipity, but it's actually causal.  I have a quote on my bureau from the Dalai Lama:  With love there is no judgement.  Ah, yes.