The other day, at an event at my house, a woman whom I'd not met before as she was the friend of a friend, asked me about the paintings on my walls. I was in the middle of a sentence when a mutual friend entered the room and the woman said, "Excuse me, I've not see so-and-so in ages", and she turned from me and began speaking to the mutual friend. I quickly walked away, but was stung by the abruptness of the cutting off of my sentence. It seems to me she might have included our mutual friend by saying, "I was just in the process of hearing about these paintings" or some such transition, and then I probably would have greeted my friend and encouraged them to "catch up". After all, I was the hostess. But the way it actually happened, I would have bet that this woman could find no one to talk to and was filling space by a question to which she really didn't want to hear the answer. We've all been guilty of this party politeness. She was relieved not to hear my answer to the question she really didn't care about, and I was left with a negative impression of this person. I wish she'd not been so obviously anxious to not speak with me any longer, though she hadn't even given me a chance to be witty or dull.
Parties are danger zones for me. I want to be genuine, and have interesting conversations, but others sometimes seem to be more than satisfied with the superficial and hop from person to person like rabbits. I would have liked to have known how this person knew my friends, and a little about her. But she had no curiousity about me. That hurts when it shows. Maybe I'm too thin skinned, or easily insulted. My expectations of parties are quite low, though one where everyone knows everyone else is fun, and some parties have energies due to concentrated intention to raise the happiness quotient, as at a wedding. This party made me happy, because the person I was hosting was pleased and the logistics went smoothly. And I had many delightful conversations. So I recall this one incident as a lesson and warning to me to strive not to be false or insensitive when meeting new people. Because I sure wouldn't want to hurt someone unnecessarily, and guilty of closing a door when it might have been opened.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech
My husband and I finished watching the film "Wild", which I had previously seen in a movie theater by myself. His reaction was different from mine, probably some of it based on gender. He didn't like the character "Cheryl", and therefore was not engaged by her quest. I certainly don't condone her behavior, but I feel the movie adequately shows the viewer the reasons: her mother had died suddenly, she had no support system to help her through the healthcare issues, she had a breakdown and was self destructive, and her family life before had been harmful, with an abusive father that her mother finally left. I had compassion. I understood her need to purify herself and start anew. My husband wanted to see what had changed in the end, but the only thing that had changed was Cheryl's view of who she was. She now was a survivor, could use the memories of her mother to guide her, and realized she wanted to live not die. There was nothing visible or tangible at the end. It was a shift.
But what I admire is the writer Cheryl Strayed's candor. She was willing to expose her drug addiction, careless sex, and destruction of her marriage. She spoke the truth, daring to be judged, not fearing such judgment, because she'd been her own harshest judge before. She was brave enough to be transparent. My husband feels feelings should be hidden and managed at all times. He doesn't like the idea of exposure. He's protected himself by what he doesn't say. His point of view has validity and is right for him.
But is it partially because he's a man? The women I am close with are more honest about their thoughts and feelings, not with everyone, but more regularly. We trust in the empathy of our women friends. This is gross generalizing, but maybe men can't trust men friends to not be competitive or judge. Maybe they have no feeling of safety. Now, women gossip, and we try to be circumspect about what we tell to whom, but our image isn't so often built on an idea of perfection. Men expect perhaps more of themselves and need that image to be shiny. I don't really know. I just felt, last night, that something about our differing views was about speech, and what is right and wrong speech. He was offended by the privacy violation of such a story, and I understood why breaking that taboo was freeing for the author. There is no right or wrong interpretation, but I felt aided in my understanding of the film by simply being a woman. Interesting.
But what I admire is the writer Cheryl Strayed's candor. She was willing to expose her drug addiction, careless sex, and destruction of her marriage. She spoke the truth, daring to be judged, not fearing such judgment, because she'd been her own harshest judge before. She was brave enough to be transparent. My husband feels feelings should be hidden and managed at all times. He doesn't like the idea of exposure. He's protected himself by what he doesn't say. His point of view has validity and is right for him.
But is it partially because he's a man? The women I am close with are more honest about their thoughts and feelings, not with everyone, but more regularly. We trust in the empathy of our women friends. This is gross generalizing, but maybe men can't trust men friends to not be competitive or judge. Maybe they have no feeling of safety. Now, women gossip, and we try to be circumspect about what we tell to whom, but our image isn't so often built on an idea of perfection. Men expect perhaps more of themselves and need that image to be shiny. I don't really know. I just felt, last night, that something about our differing views was about speech, and what is right and wrong speech. He was offended by the privacy violation of such a story, and I understood why breaking that taboo was freeing for the author. There is no right or wrong interpretation, but I felt aided in my understanding of the film by simply being a woman. Interesting.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech
I ran into two friends while I was walking the dogs this morning. We joked about aging, which was kicked off when one friend asked about a growth on the elbow of one of my dogs. Somehow we got onto leggings and how we don't wear them out anywhere, because we haven't the bodies or the nerve. I admitted I tried harder these days to look well groomed, as a distraction perhaps to the wrinkles, gray hair and general lumpiness. This was a good talk, though it would have sounded trivial to an eavesdropper, because the subject of aging is ever before our eyes, especially in the mirror, but walking, interacting with strangers, and negotiating our retired lives. We want to help out with our grandchildren, but we recognize our slow reaction time, easy fatigue and other limitations. So the joking keeps us understanding we are all in the same boat, and it's just as well to have a sense of humor about it.
As my physician says, "Welcome to old age". What's the harm in whining a bit or grumping with friends? It lets off steam. Because we have challenges these days, and as someone else said, "Old age is not for sissies". We have to gut up and face pain, uncertainty, deterioration of knees and hips, strange growths on our skin, surgeries, medicines; a host of experiences that range from not pleasant to terrifying. But, after all, the alternative is worse!
As my physician says, "Welcome to old age". What's the harm in whining a bit or grumping with friends? It lets off steam. Because we have challenges these days, and as someone else said, "Old age is not for sissies". We have to gut up and face pain, uncertainty, deterioration of knees and hips, strange growths on our skin, surgeries, medicines; a host of experiences that range from not pleasant to terrifying. But, after all, the alternative is worse!
Monday, May 4, 2015
Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech
Tonight my quiet time will be over. My husband is returning, and I have a writing group this evening. I look forward to both these things, and am ready to open my mouth. This weekend pause also has been long enough to set me upright again. Remember "weebles wobble but the don't fall down"? I am a weeble. I get centered, then I lean. I get centered then a big emotion or event or thought has me wobbling like jelly in an earthquake. The pausing, the silence, is what makes me quiet down and stabilize. My heart closed a bit like eyelids resting, and now I'm ready to open it all the way again and see what comes.
Without having any intention to organize, this morning I came to the studio and took out all my writing and put novels in progress together, poems, blogs, the whole nine yards. I discovered that the reason I'm having trouble in organizing my book about Fiji is I have too many versions printed out. It's disorganized and confusing. No wonder when I get feedback I don't incorporate it into the desktop version. Hundreds of pages, but the book is one fifth the size of my mountain of pages. I have not pared down, but now I know what I need to do to feel in control of this book. Having this pause this weekend clarified a problem for me that I hadn't realized I had. So I'm grateful for my husband's departure, the phone not ringing, and no real tasks to be done, so that I could have the clutter in my mind settle down enough to get a true picture of my reluctance to work on the book. I can work now, and will start by sorting through the pages until I have one clean copy. Maybe it should be chronological as well. I've put the cart before the horse by mixing the sections all up. I thought I was so clever, but ironically, I confused myself. Weebles rule!
Without having any intention to organize, this morning I came to the studio and took out all my writing and put novels in progress together, poems, blogs, the whole nine yards. I discovered that the reason I'm having trouble in organizing my book about Fiji is I have too many versions printed out. It's disorganized and confusing. No wonder when I get feedback I don't incorporate it into the desktop version. Hundreds of pages, but the book is one fifth the size of my mountain of pages. I have not pared down, but now I know what I need to do to feel in control of this book. Having this pause this weekend clarified a problem for me that I hadn't realized I had. So I'm grateful for my husband's departure, the phone not ringing, and no real tasks to be done, so that I could have the clutter in my mind settle down enough to get a true picture of my reluctance to work on the book. I can work now, and will start by sorting through the pages until I have one clean copy. Maybe it should be chronological as well. I've put the cart before the horse by mixing the sections all up. I thought I was so clever, but ironically, I confused myself. Weebles rule!
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech
I haven't had any speaking practice this weekend. My husband is at the cabin with the dogs, and I have kept to myself, a rare opportunity for me. I would pick up the phone if a friend called, and probably agree to some social suggestion, but no one has, which I take as a sign that I need this breathing space. I've seldom been alone in my life, as I married young and had kids quickly, and I enjoy a break from society occasionally. But I especialy need space away from my husband, as now he has been retired for three years and he doesn't go out except with me or to walk the dogs. He'll figure out something more meaningful to do with his time eventually, but I am forced to leave the house to get space, and right now, having the house to myself is nice. I'm not doing anything in particular, just letting my mind rest from engagement with others.
I don't feel lonely, because I grew up left to my own devices mostly. I could walk in the woods for hours, bicycle to the river ten miles away and back, read in my room with the door closed once I had my own room at twelve, and generally figure out how to entertain myself. That background has stood me in good stead, because I'm not afraid of my thoughts, or even of strong feelings, when they come. Everything changes. I didn't need a Buddhist practice to accept that fact. I knew it from my own experience moving a lot as a child, having my father gone quite a bit, being deposited with relatives in the midwest, and having a mother who was busy with sewing projects and social activities galore. I did have breathing space in my family, whereas my husband did not. So are needs are different. He's learned to get more comfortable by himself, and I have mastered how to be more comfortable with others.
So this weekend, my right speech is what I tell myself, about myself, and how forgiving I am for my not making plans or "getting things done" or calling people I haven't spoken to in a while. I'm being kindly to myself.
I don't feel lonely, because I grew up left to my own devices mostly. I could walk in the woods for hours, bicycle to the river ten miles away and back, read in my room with the door closed once I had my own room at twelve, and generally figure out how to entertain myself. That background has stood me in good stead, because I'm not afraid of my thoughts, or even of strong feelings, when they come. Everything changes. I didn't need a Buddhist practice to accept that fact. I knew it from my own experience moving a lot as a child, having my father gone quite a bit, being deposited with relatives in the midwest, and having a mother who was busy with sewing projects and social activities galore. I did have breathing space in my family, whereas my husband did not. So are needs are different. He's learned to get more comfortable by himself, and I have mastered how to be more comfortable with others.
So this weekend, my right speech is what I tell myself, about myself, and how forgiving I am for my not making plans or "getting things done" or calling people I haven't spoken to in a while. I'm being kindly to myself.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech
A couple of days ago my husband and I went to see the film "Ex Machina". It was very thought provoking, especially through the lens of right speech. A man has invented a robot that he wants to test for sentience. He has his gifted employee flown in to his retreat to conduct the "Turning Test". In the past this has been run while the questioner and possible candidate are unable to see each other. But in this film, the questioner can see emphatically that the robot is a robot. So the imagination seems clipped from the beginning. In the movie, the audience slowly is convinced that the robot is a sentient being. This leap is startling, and shakes up our preconceptions about what is human. Can speech be that persuasive? Can it counter our own eyes?
I think we know this to be true. There is a gentle young man who is revealed to be a serial killer. His neighbors say he is so nice. There is the woman who is deeply concerned about the health of her child, until it is discovered she has Baron Munchausen syndrome. People are not how they appear to be, and may harbor other sides not apparent to others. There is the fact that people attribute better intelligence, grace and kindness to those with more pleasing faces. We get caught up in either looks or talk which may not represent the true or complete picture of an individual.
One trick the robot displays is she turns the questioner into the questioned. People do this who do not wish to be examined too closely. With the myriad of complexities about the intention of speech, who among us can sort out curiousity from manipulation? Who can determine character from speech? In the end, as in the movie, it is the action of the speaker that ultimately tells us intention. Getting caught up in the net of speech can lead us further and further from truth. No verbal test can determine humanity, caring and feeling levels. Actions speak louder than words.
I think we know this to be true. There is a gentle young man who is revealed to be a serial killer. His neighbors say he is so nice. There is the woman who is deeply concerned about the health of her child, until it is discovered she has Baron Munchausen syndrome. People are not how they appear to be, and may harbor other sides not apparent to others. There is the fact that people attribute better intelligence, grace and kindness to those with more pleasing faces. We get caught up in either looks or talk which may not represent the true or complete picture of an individual.
One trick the robot displays is she turns the questioner into the questioned. People do this who do not wish to be examined too closely. With the myriad of complexities about the intention of speech, who among us can sort out curiousity from manipulation? Who can determine character from speech? In the end, as in the movie, it is the action of the speaker that ultimately tells us intention. Getting caught up in the net of speech can lead us further and further from truth. No verbal test can determine humanity, caring and feeling levels. Actions speak louder than words.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech
So this wordsmanship involved in selling my brother's house is getting to me. The buyer wouldn't even counter the counter, and I'm not willing to accept his first offer that is far below the asking price. So his realtor tells us he's fatigued with looking at houses and hints we should lower our counter and he might deign to perk up. For heaven's sakes! I want businesslike negotiations, but with the first offer the guy realized he was going to pay more child support than he thought, and drops out. He definitely didn't have all his ducks in a row. The second is sulking because he didn't get the great deal he hoped for. I wish people would stop gambling and consider ahead what they can really afford and not play around with us. I just hope a grownup with a sensible grasp of his/her financial situation and boundaries will make an offer. I don't like countering and refused with our last house, and I wish I'd stuck to my guns this time around. Counter offers tend to insult the seller, and then the seller, demoralized, feels he/she should respond out of politeness. We are forced to look at the offer, swallow our pride and negotiate. Well, the negotiating failed in both cases, so I'm not inclined to move any pieces on the chess board. Next time I'll say yes or no. But by countering, I've left the door open to that price for anyone from here on out, so I'm the one trapped, not the buyer.
I'm going to sing "Que sera, sera" in my head until I relax, enjoy this weekend, and follow Doris Day's advice.
I'm going to sing "Que sera, sera" in my head until I relax, enjoy this weekend, and follow Doris Day's advice.
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