Beauty in brokenness

Posted on November 17, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

There is beauty in brokenness, in damage, in destruction.
There is something to be said for taking a second look at the discarded, the ignored, the overlooked.

These first pictures are of a single trash bin that is behind an Indian buffet in downtown Nashville. There was apparently a fire in it at one time and the paint bubbled up and then everything rusted. I love the textures and the colors that have resulted.

I encourage you to take a second look at everything, and see beauty where it is least expected.

Here is a picture of the bin from further away.

And then closer up.

One of my favorites.

This was a sign at an old abandoned water plant in my neighborhood. The structure has been torn down and a park put here instead. I love how the sign looks like a painting of the sky, yet says “NO”

Steps in Boone, NC, near a bead store and a pottery store. An art book I was reading suggested taking pictures of cracks and then drawing random figures from them.

A rusty recycle bin near my home. This is where I take my recycling.

Grandfather Mountain – the beauty of the near and the far away

Posted on November 17, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

I don’t take normal pictures when I travel. I don’t take pictures of tourist spots or of myself or relatives standing in front of those tourist spots. I take pictures of things that are really tiny and hard to see unless you get right up on them, or of things that are really far away.

These first few pictures are taken on Grandfather Mountain, NC, near where we stay. I love the idea of finding beauty just outside your door.

OK. So I like lichen and moss. I like to think of it as a beautiful tiny world unto itself.

Slightly less close up, and with bluets.

A burl on a tree. It is an infection that causes unusual growth. Some woodcarvers create bowls out of burls. In this way, the tree does most of the work.

A rock that I like, even though it doesn’t have a lot of moss or lichens on it.

Then we went up to the top of the mountain. There are some wonderful far away views of the rippling waves of mountains.

Turning left.

Further left.

Strange advantages of your parents dying early.

Posted on October 30, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

There are some strange advantages to no longer having parents when you are an adult. There are some disadvantages, sure, but it isn’t all sad.

They can’t boss you around and tell you who you have to marry, what your wedding is going to be like, and how to raise your kids. You don’t have to hear from them about how you aren’t living up to their expectations. It is your life, to do with what you will.

You have to look out for yourself. Since you can’t move back in when you get fired or divorced, you have to plan ahead and save up. This may sound like a disadvantage but it isn’t. Nothing makes you have to be an adult like actually being on your own. If you are constantly using your parents as an ATM, you aren’t really an adult yet.

They can’t gossip about you and tell all of your embarrassing secrets to your dates and co-workers. Those terrible stories die with them.

You don’t have to divide your time between them and your children. Older parents and young children require a lot of work. They both are very dependent and at times helpless. You only have so much time and energy and money and it is hard to be in two places at once.

You don’t have to watch a formerly vibrant person decline into helplessness. There is nothing more tragic than seeing your college professor father slowly lose his mind because of Alzheimer’s. There is a certain sadness in seeing your formerly active and independent Mom reduced to spending her days in a hospital bed.

And lastly, it teaches you perspective. It teaches you that there are no guarantees in life. It teaches you that you better get it done now, because there might not be “next year” for that project. It teaches you to choose wisely and not waste your time because you realize how little of it you really have. And, it teaches you to not freak out about a lot of little things, because if you can survive on your own at a young age, then you can make it through anything.

God was with me the whole time my parents were sick. People may say “How come God let them die?” That is the wrong way to think. They died because of their choices. God didn’t kill them – they killed themselves by smoking cigarettes and eating poorly and not exercising. God sent me help and gave me the energy to take care of them and myself during that time. For some people, that experience would separate them from God. For me, it drew me closer. I came to see God as my parent. So ultimately, that too is an advantage. I switched from identifying with weak, temporal, physical parents, to a strong, eternal, spiritual parent.

Sure, I still miss my physical parents. Sure, I wish that they were able to meet my husband. I’d love if they could see how well I’m doing right now. In a way, I know that they can, because I believe in the afterlife. I believe that they are spirit now and know what is going on. I believe that they are connected with all things now and are not limited to their physical bodies. But it still hurts, and I’m still sad. But within that sadness I can see how in some ways I’ve missed a whole lot of other hurt and pain by them dying early.

Glasses for mental health

Posted on October 20, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

What if anxious and nervous is your normal? What if it isn’t something wrong at all, but just your way of being?

Think of it as the same as needing glasses, or a hearing aid, or an orthotic shoe. There is nothing “shameful” or “wrong” about these conditions. We can’t control the fact that we are different from “normal”. We can’t control the fact that we need a little bit of help to fit in with everybody else.

Why do we think we have any real control over our emotions?

Some of our emotions are trained into us. We are taught to behave and react in certain ways, some of which aren’t that useful. We get that from our parents. What if some of our neural pathways are different genetically as well? Forget nature versus nurture. They both have an effect.

What if we aren’t to blame for feeling afraid or angry or hesitant? What if that is just the way we are? What if we stop trying to define these feelings as “bad” and we just accept them for what they are?

There is a big push in society for everybody to be the same – but we aren’t. We all look different – but we can have surgery to all look the same. We can wear clothes to make ourselves look smaller or taller or skinner or have curves in different places. There are girdles and pads aplenty to make you fit in and make you look more like everyone else.

There are things to make you fit in mentally as well. There are pills if you are depressed or manic, or eat too much, or don’t eat enough, or have anxiety, or ADD. There are pills to counter every state of humanity.

But why fit in? Because it makes them feel better, or you? Wouldn’t it be healthier for them to see you being you? When you are honest about who you really are, then you are giving everyone else permission to be themselves.

I say we all just take off our masks and say that we are the way we are, and that is OK.

Glass (half full? half empty?)

Posted on August 25, 2013 by betsybeadhead | 1 Comment

The glass isn’t half empty, or half full. It is half a glass of water. Simple. See? No “positive” or “negative” spin. It just is, with no definition or judgment.

See how we are shaped to think in certain ways when we are given only certain choices? Our language frames us. We are shaped by it. When you are asked to decide whether the glass is half empty or half full, you aren’t actually being given a choice. It looks like it. But really, the smartest thing you can do is to step back from the question and wonder why the person is trying to get you to decide either way. Whoever is asking you wants to define you. Are you an optimist, or a pessimist?

In reality, the glass is half full and half empty at the same time. You can look at it however you want, and it has nothing to do with your perspective. There is only half a glass of water. Defining it as half-full or half-empty does nothing for the amount of water.

Sure, you can get excited that you have some water to drink, or you can get sad that you don’t have a full glass of water to drink. Or, far healthier for your head, you can just notice that there is half a glass of water. It isn’t full, and it isn’t empty. It is right in the middle.

A lot of our problems come from a need to define something as good or bad. Often we define it in relation to ourselves – does it benefit me, or harm me? Often we define it in relation to our experience at the moment. We don’t have the full picture, so we decide something is bad at the time, when later we think it is good, or vice versa. Situations change. We change.

But sometimes the issue is that we are tricked. We are asked to define something that doesn’t need defining. Someone points out something for us to notice, and by omission we don’t notice everything else. It is a pretty powerful trick. Look over here, meanwhile the real action is going over somewhere else.

If you ask a child if she wants to wear the blue jumper or the red jumper, you’ve deftly sidestepped the issue of maybe she doesn’t want to wear a jumper at all. Maybe she wants to wear a sarong or a sweater. And maybe she doesn’t want to get dressed to go out right now and wants to stay in her pajamas.

Be wary of how you are being directed and channeled. See what is there.

Parasites

Posted on July 9, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

Such a negative word. Parasite. You think of vermin and viruses. You think of slimy, gross things eating away.

This is such a human-centered way of thinking. If it doesn’t benefit us, it is bad. I’ve written along with others that our need to define things as good or bad is part of our undoing. We have this need to control in our need to define.

What is against us has to be bad. Of course.

But mosquitoes are what birds eat. Their song, their strength in flight, is fed by these insects that cause us torment.

Who knows about tapeworms and viruses? Who knows what purpose they play? Do we have to know?

When we take antibiotics, anti-life by definition, we are killing these very viruses. They are growing and thriving in an environment that is hospitable for them. Perhaps kinder would be to just prevent the environment in the first place.

Is it the fault of moss that it grows in a wet place? No. So if you don’t want moss, fix what is causing the moisture.

What about cancer? Cancer is mindless, but it grows and divides. Is it alive?

Part of the mission of Star Trek was to seek out new life.

They flew around the universe encountering countless beings that looked like people and countless more entities that looked nothing like life. Week after week we learned along with them to see value in these beings, these entities. We learned to see them as having a purpose, as having sentience.

The most important thing we can learn is that just because their purpose and sentience isn’t the same as ours doesn’t make it wrong.

We’ve heard that just because someone else is on a different path doesn’t mean they are lost.

So, does this mean that we allow the tapeworm to move in? Does this mean we show compassion to cancer and we don’t cut it out?

These are hard questions, and I’m not sure I have the answers.

I think there is something in there about boundaries.

I’ve heard one definition of jealousy is thinking that someone has something that is yours.

Surely your body is yours.

But if it is, consider this. A rabbi once said that “Is that your nose? Where is your receipt?”

We don’t create ourselves. We have some influence on our bodies by what we eat and if we exercise. We can somewhat shape ourselves. But for the most part our bodies are gifts to us. Unmerited.

Our bodies are temples. Our bodies house our souls. Even our souls are gifts. Consciousness is a gift of the Creator.

Who are we to refuse entrance to other members of creation?

Now, if we keep our bodies in bad shape we will invite more things than we might know how to deal with.

It is like having a small house and hosting a huge party. We might have a lot more party-goers than we know what to do with. We might run out of party food and they will start eating our staples. We might have to call the police.

But what happens when the party goers are cancer? Is the doctor the police? Doubtful, considering the nature of Western medicine. It treats the symptom rather than the cause. But that is the focus of another post, another day.

I don’t have the answers. I’m OK with asking the questions and living into the answers. Sometimes just asking the questions is a good start.

The biggest thing I want to get across is that just because something isn’t for us, isn’t part of our plan, doesn’t seem to have a purpose that benefits us – doesn’t mean it is bad. It just is. It is part of creation. Perhaps we don’t have eyes to see the purpose. Perhaps it doesn’t have a purpose, and perhaps we need to be OK with that.

We tend to want answers, and closure. Perhaps it is healthier just to observe without judgment.