Comfort food and Western medicine are killing us.

I know a lady whose adult daughter has Crohn’s disease. She has done well with it for several years, but it has flared up again. She is recently divorced and has moved back in with her parents.

Her mom wondered if she should buy her a Blizzard from Dairy Queen after she found out the test results weren’t good. Uh. No. As another person said – what health condition would that be good for?

But it isn’t physical health she is trying to treat. She is hoping to soothe with food. We do this a lot. We soften the blows of life with ice cream and cake and brownies.

These are celebration foods. Perhaps what we are trying to do is “turn that frown upside down”. Perhaps by eating the same foods we eat at parties we are trying to trick our brains into thinking that everything is fine. We aren’t in the middle of a bad situation. We are at a party!

But junk food never fixes anything. Good food will fix quite a bit. Exercise will always help.

I’m not sure how we got to the point that we treat the symptom rather than addressing the cause. I’m not sure how we have become reactive rather than proactive. I’m not sure how we have become so passive about our health and our lives.

I know that I’m not playing that game anymore. Sometimes I think I want to go back to school to learn how to be a nutritionist, or a life coach, or anything that helps people prevent their own suffering. But then I think I can’t save the world. It seems like such a logical thing – eat well and exercise and you’ll do fine (barring accidents). Eat terribly and be a couch potato, and you’ll suffer. But that is the way of things. I don’t think we’ve always been this way, but we sure are now. Our medical institutions don’t help either. Coughing? Take a pill. Diabetes? Take a pill. There is no education on how to get well.

Doctors who made a pledge to “do no harm” aren’t doing any good either.

Where does the change start? I think it has to start with us. We have to take control of our own health and lives. We have to essentially homeschool ourselves on our health and wellbeing. The more we expect others to do for us, the more passive we are. And the more passive we are, the more we will fall behind.

Kindergarten 8-14-13

Today was another hard day in kindergarten. Three girls told me they missed their Mom. I suspect some boys miss their Mom too, but they didn’t say so. This is the earliest in the school year that I’ve been there to tutor. Usually by the time that I clear all the paperwork to get in, it is several months in and they are more used to the idea of school.

One little girl was crying quietly to herself when I came in. She was sitting in the middle of the other students on the rainbow rug. This isn’t her first time in school. She is repeating kindergarten, with the same teacher. I’ve worked with her before and this was new for me to see her cry. Sometimes this is a momentary thing. But when I came in after the second child I’d tutored, she was still sobbing.

I held my hand out to her and she came up to me and stood by my side. I patted her back. It wasn’t enough. I went to my knees and asked her what was wrong. That is when she told me that she missed her Mom. I said that her Mom was missing her too, and asked if she wanted a hug. She nodded yes. We hugged, and it soothed her a little.

Sometimes we can’t get hugs from the people we need hugs from, so God sends a substitute.

Another child came up. She is a good helper and very bright. She knew what the problem was. I asked her – “What do you do when you miss your Mom?” It has been so long since I was five that I’ve forgotten. I figured I could get some great advice here that would help out.

She said that she misses her Mom but just does her work anyway. This wasn’t quite what I was looking for, but it is something. Sometimes the best cure for sadness is to just work right through it.

Of course, sometimes the cure is to sit on the rainbow rug and just cry it out.

When bullies become adults.

Most of us, when we think about the term bully, think about a schoolyard. We think about some large, brutish kid, generally a guy, stealing lunch money and pushing kids around on the playground. But sometimes bullies grow up – in age, but not in attitude. Nobody has managed to intervene and teach him how to behave like a human being. His actions get him the results he wants, so he continues.

A bully is even worse when he grows up because he is harder to manage. If he has children then the disease spreads. He either bullies his children and wife or he teaches his children that bullying people is normal. They either learn to be victims or tyrants.

Now, it is important to say that women can be bullies too. Women can be abusive and manipulative and mean. But I have to pick a pronoun to use here, because saying “him or her” is tedious, so I’m going with the default male bully. Sadly, males are more likely to be bullies, but this post isn’t about gender so much as behavior and repercussions.

A bully will treat others that they are lesser than him because he needs this version of reality to prop himself up. A bully at the heart of it all is a weird combination of a narcissist with low self esteem. This seems contradictory. But if someone has a healthy sense of self esteem then he doesn’t have to keep shoring it up. A narcissist spends all his time thinking about his needs and how things affect him. He doesn’t care about what other people need or think unless it directly will affect him.

A narcissistic boss will get angry if an employee calls in when she is in the hospital because this means the project that she was working on won’t be finished on time. He doesn’t care that it means that she is suffering and that it has made things difficult at home with taking care of her children. It is all about him.

Bullies are narcissists sometimes. Sometimes they are also simply sadists. Either way, they don’t care about other people. Other people are simply a means to an end. It is all about their needs, and if other people get hurt, that doesn’t matter.

A bully who becomes a father will teach his children that they are lesser than him so that he can maintain a sense of control. He will try to show how important he is by making them dependent on him.

If he really wanted to show how awesome he was as a father, he’d teach them to be able to take care of themselves. The sign of a good parent is one who is able to teach his child how to be successful and happy and self sufficient. If your adult child has to move back in with you after her divorce, you haven’t done a great job. If your adult child has to constantly ask you for advice or money, then you haven’t taught her anything about what it means to be an adult.

Baby birds need to fly. If they don’t learn how to fly, how to leave the nest and go out on their own, then there is a problem. The same is true with humans, but somehow we forget that. Prolonged childhood is becoming normal. Some adult children (the term itself is a sign) don’t have the emotional, mental, or financial resources to live independently until they are in their 30s. How much of this is because of bad parenting? And how much of that is because of parents who they themselves aren’t mature? But I digress.

Imagine how terrified a bully is when he discovers his wife is very sick. He won’t have her around to push around or prop up his ego. It will all be about him. Her sickness becomes his burden. Her sickness means it isn’t all about him. She gets terminally ill, and he is no longer the center of attention. He either has to learn how to become a caregiver (not a natural role for a bully) or he becomes even more “helpless”. He will become passive-aggressive and “forget” to take his medicine. He will expect her to do all the cooking while he acts like a king during family gatherings.

He isn’t fooling anybody. Well, he is. He is fooling himself. He hasn’t figured out that the way to look important is to not feel the need to push other people around. It is to be self-sufficient.

Some people will be bullies all the way up to their death.

It is a sad way to die. It is even more sad to live this way.

Perhaps what bullies need is love. Perhaps they need to have people stand up to them and tell them what they are doing is wrong, too. But bullying is a desire for attention and a need for a good sense of self-esteem. Perhaps they need to be taught new ways to feel good about themselves other than knocking other people down. Perhaps they need to be taught that how their actions affect other people.

Perhaps the root of it all is that the bully was himself bullied, and just doesn’t know any better.

One of the strangest stories I’ve heard recently is from a man who was abusive to his sons who still tries to push them around through guilt and a mis-applied sense of service to him. He told me a story about how a current neighbor had a dog that he left outside all the time, regardless of the weather. He felt so sad for that dog, whining in the cold and the rain. Sometimes he would speak through the fence to the dog to try to comfort it.

Yet he didn’t see the connection between that dog and his children.

He didn’t see how his constantly talking down to them, belittling them, and beating them was abusive. He didn’t leave them outside in the cold or the rain, but he didn’t provide any warmth or comfort inside the house either.

There is a lot more to taking care of children than just providing for their physical needs. You can make sure they have food and a place to live, but if you neglect their emotional and mental needs, you are abusing them. You may not ever hit them, but if you don’t hug them either you are still abusing them.

Opinion poll.

Why do we care what other people think? I’ve read recently that humans need community. We need each other to create our understanding of reality. But I’ve found that if we pay too much attention to what other people think, then we stop being able to think for ourselves. We stop being able to act too.

Say I’m at work. A lady gets upset that I’m smiling. She thinks that I’m making fun of her, that I’m smirking. Then I’ll make a point of not smiling, and another person thinks I’m not being friendly enough. It is healthier for my soul to just do whatever I’m going to do and let them deal with their issues themselves. Otherwise I’m constantly second guessing myself.

I try to adapt myself to other people. I think it is kind to adjust myself so I’m at eye height to them, or that I know enough about their reading interests that I can suggest something for them to read when they ask. Remember how the apostle Paul tells us we must be all things to all people? Yeah. That.

But there is a big difference in being accommodating and being a doormat.

And there is something very dangerous in letting someone else shape your behavior. When you do, you are giving up your autonomy. You are giving up control. You are letting someone else tell you how to live your life.

I have a friend who was told that he would amount to nothing, that all he was good for was factory work. He was told this by an authority figure at school. Fortunately he had a strong mother who told him a different story. He is soon to graduate as a social worker.

Imagine the loss to our world if he had listened to that negative person.

We are often told that we aren’t good enough, that we can’t do something, or that we should give up or never even start. The secret is that other people are mirrors of you. If someone is telling you that, it is their own fear of failure they are pushing onto you.

Don’t take it. It isn’t healthy.

Think of this. Use “you can’t do that” as a dare, as a springboard. Use it as a sign that you are on the right path. There is something you are about to do that frightens them, because they think they can’t do it. But they aren’t you. Prove that person wrong. Do it instead of them. Do it because of them. But just do it.

And forget about what they think. They don’t know anything anyway.

Stumbling block, or stepping stone?

My craft room is the wrong color. When it got the house, it was teal. I quickly painted it fern green. I find green soothing. It is something of a neutral color for me, a default. But then I realized that I wasn’t using the room. It has great light. It has a lot of space. But I wasn’t spending any time in there. I was storing my beads and fabric and paint in there, but not using them there. I’d take them to other parts of the house, usually the living room, and work there.

It has taken me ten years to get back into that room. It was yoga that did it, and it is yoga that teaches me about it. I feel that I’ve wasted a lot of time not using it all this time, but I often feel that. I suspect a lot of that comes from the fact that my parents died young. I don’t want to be wasteful of time, or to assume that I have a lot of time. I think that wanting to have lived a meaningful life is common to most people, and it is hard to have lived a meaningful one if you’ve frittered it away. I’m trying to be mindful. It doesn’t always work. Sometimes it seems there are a lot of unnoticed things that thwart me.

I needed space to do yoga every morning. I needed a space that was big enough for a yoga mat and for me to be able to do some side twists. I have a tiny house. It was what I could afford at the time. Plus, a small house (hopefully) means not accumulating a bunch of stuff. So, this means that the living room is not really big enough. There is room for the mat, but not the side twists. The same is true in the bedroom. I’ve got plenty of room on the porch, but it is outside and I don’t want to be stared at while I’m doing yoga. Actually, I’m very self-conscious about being outside at all, but that is another story.

So I put the mat in the craft room, and I made myself do yoga every morning. I realized that I didn’t want to go in there. Yoga is teaching me to look adversity head on – to not run away from it. Study it. Dig down to the roots. Why am I feeling this way – like I want to run away? Why don’t I want to be in this room? The first and deepest impression was that it was the color. Too dark. Not energizing. It is calming, but a little too much. Now, there is a lot of light from the north – the light is great for painting in the morning. But it just didn’t strike my eyes right, and the color wasn’t inspiring.

I got a book called “Sacred Spaces”, about how to make sanctuaries wherever you are. One of the sections was on feng shui. I determined that something more like a sea-blue, or slate-grey-blue would be better. It would be a pain to drag out everything in that room and repaint it. So I made some suggested amendments to the room. More blue pictures. Seashells. I made a point of closing the closet so the mirror showed. Either it helped, or I thought it did, because I was more likely to want to be in there.

But I’m leaving the walls. Part of it is that I feel that removing all difficulties actually can be a problem. Having an obstacle, having something that annoys me, actually wakes me up. It strengthens me. It keeps me conscious.

I’ve noticed that if everything is fine, I don’t push myself. I don’t stretch or grow. And I don’t pray. When everything is going fine, I don’t seek God nearly as often.

Turns out I’m in really good company. Plenty of people throughout the Bible did that. When things were going bad, they called on God. When things were going great, they forgot about God. Have a pain in your back that you are worried about? Pray. When it stops hurting, you stop praying. Normal.

God likes to hear from us. God wants to be connected to us. It is sad that we often only remember to pray, to connect with God, when things aren’t going well. What would happen if we treated our friends like this? If we only call them when we have something to complain about, the relationship isn’t going to last. God wants to have a relationship with us.

So maybe we should be thankful for the obstacles, and the pains, and the things that annoy us. Maybe they are our rescue. Maybe instead of being stumbling blocks, they are stepping stones.

I’ve decided not to repaint that room. I’ve decided it keeps me mindful of how to be calm and present amidst adversity.

Salamander art

I said that I wanted to draw every day and that is not happening. I’m not making time for it on a regular basis, and when I do make the time (not enough, but something) I feel that I’m not doing my best. I make up color tests, rather than sketching something that is there. Or I do the praying-in-color thing, where I doodle and pray at the same time. It helps me realize something or get something out. It is something, but not what I wanted. It isn’t my best work. It is something. Currently I’m reassessing my drawing. There is only so much time in the day, and I wonder when I can shoehorn everything in.
Life is about choices. And it is about deciding what you are going to focus on. And it is also about admitting defeat or trudging on.
I’m glad I got over the objection that I wanted unlimited time to do this. I have a clock in my craft room that I look at, and I’ve not run late yet. I’d rather be able to spend as much time as I want, but I’ve learned that if I don’t have a time limit, I tend to not even get started. It makes no sense, but it is that way it is.
Praying or crafting is a little like swimming. I stop being part of time, of the “real” world, and I connect with the endless. I leave the known of the dry land and I enter another world, where the normal rules don’t apply. It is hard to want to come back, and it is hard to make that switch when I must come back because I have to go to work. Sometimes I resent having to go to work, because of the time it takes out of my week. I like my job – I’m grateful to have a job that I can do well, and it has health insurance and a pension. It is hard to be an adult sometimes.
Then I remember the salamander again. It is dual natured. It needs water to survive. It has to be near water. It was born in water, breathing it. It evolves, and then it can breathe air, but never fully is able to leave the water. It can’t breathe water again after a certain point, but it needs to be near water – it needs to feel the water on its skin on a regular basis or it will shrivel up and die.
I’ve heard that the Torah is the same as water. The Word of God is water. Jesus tells us that he is living water.
Funny how I got that salamander tattoo a long time ago, and it is my touchstone now. It is pulling me back to myself.
It is a reminder of then, and a reminder of a promise, and it is a way-marker and a milestone. It shows then and future at the same time. Like all good messengers from God, it has many layers of meaning, and it is always true. I just can’t interpret it all yet. But it helps. It helps me remember, and pull myself back in.
Funny how this tattoo, this symbol of a salamander, refers to opposites – to fire and to water. Funny how it is a tiny creature, yet has such a mythology around it.
I’m learning how to be creative and have a full-time job at the same time. I’m learning how to be the salamander – to be in and with and near and part of art and work, at the same time. I’m learning to not separate the parts of who I am into pieces, but integrate them into a whole.

(updated 1-18-18)

Getting hit by lightning. Or not.

While walking to my car on the way to work this morning, I noticed that the sky was very dark and heavy with storm clouds. The air was sticky with humidity. I had the distinct impression that a storm could happen at any moment, and that there could be lightning. Just ahead to my right, about four feet away I looked at the driveway. I had an impression that there was a lot of energy there, like lightning could strike. It felt then as if there was a strike, right there, too close for comfort.

This is hard to explain. It is as if I saw a lightning strike with my mind’s eye. I didn’t see the lightning, either real or imagined. I felt that it was simply there, beyond my normal perception.

What would I do if there was a lightning strike that close to me? Probably freak out. I seem to remember that you are supposed to drop to the ground but don’t drop flat. Just crouch down, so you aren’t tall anymore. Lightning looks for tall things. Lightning tries to bridge the gap and make a connection.

I stopped for a moment. Was I predicting a hit? Nothing happened. I kept going and went on to my car.

I was reminded at the time of the tale of Balaam’s donkey. It tried to warn him of danger ahead.

I’m reminded now of the tale of Moses and the burning bush.

A lot of crazy-sounding things happened in the Bible, to otherwise everyday people. But somehow we downplay such experiences today if a person says they are having a similar experience. We tend to think that the person is making it up, or needs to be locked up.

A little later on at work, I had the distinct impression that there was a man sitting in the chair just ahead of the area where I was working. It was approximately the same position from me when I was at home and I felt the lightning strike.

Weird. Is it a ghost? TheHoly Spirit? Again, I paused. Anybody there? What would I do if it was a manifestation of God, a messenger? Not a lot of training around for that.

Yet we are of a faith that tells us that God is seeking us. That God wants to connect with us.

God is that lightning bolt, wanting to make that connection.

In the Old Testament, people usually threw themselves down to the ground when a messenger from God appeared before them. Whether in fear or in humility, who knows? But whatever the reason, they made themselves smaller. Perhaps they didn’t want to be hit.

But I’m standing. I’m standing before God, saying here I am. Use me. Send me. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing, but I know that you are in control. It doesn’t make sense. But here I am.

I remember that every time I’ve needed a tool, a supply, it has been when I was unprepared. I was a good Girl Scout. I’ve got a first aid kit. I have phone numbers of community services. But every time that something big has happened, I happen to not have my kit or my phone.

So every time I pray, and God provides what is needed.

Perhaps that is what God is reminding me of.

I’m debating taking some classes. I’m thinking some classes about how to perform life-event ceremonies would be helpful. You know, weddings, funerals, the like. People need ceremonies and rituals to mark changes, to say “this has happened”. It is like how the Israelites were forever putting stones on top of each other in the desert to indicate that something amazing happened there. They’d mark that spot so when they came back to it they would remember. Ceremonies are like that, but for time. They mark not a place, but a transition from one time to another. Marriage, birth, graduation, a death – we have ceremonies for these things. I’ve looked online and the classes are long and expensive. It might not work out with my work schedule.

Maybe God is saying stop worrying about this. You don’t need a certificate to do this. Remember every time you needed to have something with you, it wasn’t there? Relax, and pray. Just like with the disciples, the Holy Spirit will give you the words.

But maybe God is telling me something like Noah. Build an ark. Get prepared.

So now I’m waiting for the third instance. I’m waiting for another sign. When I have them all together I’ll have enough data to go on. Maybe. That is what I’m telling myself. Sometimes the path for following God isn’t clear. It is like stepping from one pool of light, to one small stone, to another pool of light that just appeared right then when you stepped on that stone. Sometimes you just stand there and no light appears, and you just go forward anyway.

Meanwhile, this all sounds crazy. But I don’t feel crazy, and both times I was I knew it. And I get solace from the fact that there are a lot of crazy-sounding stories in the Bible.

Just look at Elijah and Isaiah and Daniel and Jonah. Look at Abraham and Jacob. Crazy stories. You’d have to be crazy to think that God is talking to you, right? Yet we have a book that is full of these stories. We have a faith built on these stories.

You’d have to be crazy to think that God isn’t talking to you.

On salamanders – part one. (The heat is on.)

I have a tattoo of a salamander on my right shoulder. I got it probably five years ago. It is specifically a Yonahlassee salamander. They only are found on Grandfather Mountain, which is in North Carolina. There are bluets surrounding it, and they grow on Grandfather Mountain in May. That is where my husband and I spent our honeymoon, and when we got married. It is a reminder, and a promise. It is a marker of the past and of the future. But there is even more to it.

I’ve loved the idea of salamander for many years. I was in a medieval re-enactment group and used the salamander as the animal on my device. I guess you could say it is my totem. The salamander may not look scary or fierce, but there are hidden strengths to it. The salamander was a medieval Christian symbol of “strength through adversity” because they thought it walked through fire. They would notice that salamanders would come out of a forest that was on fire, and they would often come out very late after the fire started. They wouldn’t come running out at the beginning of the fire like the rest of the animals did. They also would notice salamanders coming out of a log that had been set on fire in a fireplace, so they also thought that salamanders were born from fire.

Now, science wasn’t a strong suit for medieval Christians. In reality, salamanders sleep a lot of time in rotting logs. They love the moisture and the quiet, and how safe they are. They use the logs to hide from enemies because they can’t be seen in there. So when there is a forest fire, they are often the last to know. They are curled up all snug in that log and they get warm when the fire is going full force. They escape the fire late because they are aware of it late. They can’t exactly run because they have really short legs. I’m sure that a lot of salamanders die trying to escape the forest fire. But, they do have really moist skin so they have a small level of protection from heat.

But the symbolism remains.

I like the idea of them because they are very small but they survive. They make it through the storm. They endure. In the midst of something bad, they don’t run away. I’m reminded of the Hindu image of God called Ganesh. Ganesh has the attributes of an elephant. Instead of walking around obstacles, he walks through them.

Somewhere in the middle of last night I was up again because I was too hot. Middle age will do that to you if you are female. The heat wakes me up. I’ve learned to just get up for a little bit and cool down. These days I write during this time. It is a quiet enough activity that doesn’t wake my husband up or get me so engaged that I can’t go back to sleep. Plus, writing helps get the words out of my head.

In the middle of writing last night I realized that the salamander is a good symbol for this time too. It walks through fire. This fire of perimenopause is pretty annoying, but instead of seeing it as a bad thing, I can use it as a chance to transform myself. I can see it as a sign that I am changing, and becoming a wise woman. This time is a time of growth, of shedding my old self and growing into my new self. Or maybe I need to think of it as the self that was always there, just hidden beneath layers of stuff that was put on me. It is an opportunity to strip down and make a leaner, faster, better me.

I’m thinking of it as if I was going on a journey, and I keep finding out that the more I carry, the shorter the distance I can go. The more I get rid of, the faster I am. The stuff to get rid of isn’t just stuff – it is ideas and old ways of thinking. It is relationships that aren’t healthy. It is anything that doesn’t serve, isn’t useful, and doesn’t work anymore.

In fact, some bits never worked in the first place. Some of it is stuff that was given to me – either real, tangible things, or instead they are ways of thinking – that never worked at all but I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know that there were other choices, and that the person giving them to me wasn’t healthy or healing for me. Not all people who say they are teachers or leaders really are. And everything should be tested. Is it true? Is it helpful? Does it work? Does it fit with other things that I know to be true and helpful?

Sometimes the best teacher is to be found in that still small voice, that quiet moment when you have that “ah-ha!” in the middle of the storm, where it all comes together and makes sense.

I’m becoming grateful for the fire inside, the heat that I’m feeling these days. It is waking me up.

Fishing/Gardening

I’ve decided to think of gardening as like fishing. Instead of the end result being the goal, the goal is just to do it. This way I don’t get upset when the plants die.

My Mom had a huge garden. She was the kind of Mom who asked for power tools for Mother’s Day rather than flowers. She needed the tools to work on her garden so she could grow her own flowers. It was common to find her outside moving rocks or planting something. There were daylilies and rose bushes and lily of the valley. She planted very few vegetables. Her garden was mostly about pretty flowers. Something different was blooming all the time.

She never taught me how to garden. She didn’t teach me how to cook or take care of a house either. She had a strange idea that because I was “gifted” and I “picked up ideas fast” that she didn’t have to teach me. Maybe I do understand some concepts quickly, but I still have to be taught them. By never showing me at all, she unknowingly shortchanged me.

I remember one time she saw me cleaning up a plant by taking out all the dead leaves and she was surprised. She wondered out loud how I learned how to do that.

I get a little angry when I think about this.

I’m pretty sure she was intentionally trying to make my life harder by not teaching me these basic things, but the end result is the same.

I’ve tried to learn how to garden from reading books, in the same way I’ve tried to learn how to cook. I understand a little bit of both but I think I’m missing something. That is fairly common for me. I’ll get the big picture but miss something really essential that is small and easy. I have a lot of “duh!” moments with myself.

My big concern is that I’ll spend a lot of money on plants and then kill them in short order because I don’t know what I’m doing. Either I water them too much or feed them too little or I don’t know how to prune them. I forget to look at them sometimes. I’ve taken to putting plants in areas I have to walk by so I have no excuse to forget about them.

I’ve decided to be patient with myself and with the process. Just pick an area and a plant or two. Go outside and enjoy being outside. Admire the bugs and butterflies. Commune with the Creator. Just try.

Because like fishing, the point isn’t about catching fish. The point is to be outside, in nature, enjoying the day.