It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

Wandering the Web

I'm guest-blogging about the trap of the "helper" today at my friend Steve McCready's site.  I've cross-posted to Steve's blog before, and it's well worth checking out his other posts while you're visiting.  He has some great insights and advice on relationships and mental/emotional well-being.

I'll be back in a while...

More Crossover -- Vatrena King

This is the week in which I direct you toward the work of others.  It's not that I'm at a loss for words myself; they just all happen to be directed article-ward this week.  Today's featured blogger/artist is the mother of one of Aidan's close friends, the bookkeeper at our school, and once upon a time, she used to be on a little TV show  called -- Ally McBeal.  Vatrena appeared regularly as one of the backup singers in the bar frequented by Ally and her friends.

But, we are all more than one thing, and Vatrena King is so much more than this one role.  The first time I heard her sing, she was emcee-ing an event for the school.  We were new that year, and I was blown away by this woman's voice.  As someone who "couldn't carry a tune with a forklift" to quote a good friend, I'm always in awe of those who can sing.  And Vatrena can! 

You don't meet Vatrena and think 'Music Celebrity.'  Mini-vans, kids, scrambling to keep socks on feet and lunches packed -- her life isn't that different from mine (other than the voice, figure, and melanin differentials).  We've even had long talks about goats.  Yep, this former L.A. studio singer lives on  a hill in Winters with her sons and an assortment of chickens and yes, goats.

How does one path lead to another?  Well, that's a short story long.  (you knew I'd get to the blog link sooner or later.)

If you haven't clicked over to any of these links -- I know, your mouse is broken, the cat needs to be fed, and you sprained your right index finger -- then check out this video below.  This song never fails to make a bad day better for me, and it reminds me that life is a journey -- sometimes the dips in the road are as important as the destination.  Enjoy! 

Awareness -- Blog crossover week

The week is getting a bit crazy around here, so for today, I'm going to direct you to this excellent post by a good friend on AWARENESS.  Steve is a marriage and family therapist in Sacramento and has recently re-started his blog.  He's kicked it off with great posts, and this one has some particularly good insights.  If you want to look a bit more closely at yourself and your interactions with others, I recommend checking out what Steve has to say.

In the meantime, what does awareness mean to you?  How and when do you 'check out?'  Tune in?

After years in large animal medicine, I'm pretty aware of my physical surroundings -- sort of a survival trait.  But, if I'm uncomfortable or upset, I can lose entire conversations.  For me, awareness translates into understanding my own responses to a situation and helping myself to take action rather than to react.  How about you?

Finding the Thread -- Fear in the News

Readers of this blog may have noticed that I’ve never attempted the sort of “weekly round-up” posts seen in other, more focused blogs.  This is a technique that works great for blogs that cover one topic or niche, but since this blog is essentially a reflection of my brain (scattered), I’ve generally felt that trying to tie up bits of news from the week that stuck out for me would be like trying to string a bunch of random beads into a pattern.

Yet, there are weeks when certain news items stick to the brain, and it seems as though there should be a thread that joins them.  Perhaps this is simply a reflection of my current thoughts, but it seems as though I may have found a thread for the events and issues that have stood out for me this week.

Here are my “beads” of news, in no particular order.

1. The debt ceiling talks collapsed (again.) In other words, the president and Congress began tattling on each other and John Boehner took his ball and went home.
2. Though we are having a mild summer in CA, worry about friends, family, and colleagues has me following the heat wave in the Midwest and East.
3. The bombing and shooting tragedy in Norway is made even more horrific by the age of so many of the victims and the choice of disguise of the murderer.
4. A breastfeeding doll popular in Europe causes some controversy in the U.S.
5. School board members decide to un-ban a book after they actually read it.
6. A study indicates that modern playground safety modifications may actually be detrimental to children.

There they are, snippets of world events from catastrophic to idiotic.  What is the thread that ties these things together?  Here’s a clue.  When I took the above picture this morning, I was afraid to use it.  The beads are kind of blurry, and the whole photo is shadowed weirdly.  Then it hit me – those are the aspects that make the picture perfect for this post.  My beads, these bits of news, stood out from the media storm randomly and kind of blurry.  But, the whole picture is tainted by something unpleasant and shadowy.  Fear.

Yesterday, I posted about fear on the personal level.  Today, societal fear seems to be the thread that connects these issues – at least in my mind. 

Wait.  What about the heat wave? Fear didn’t cause summer heat.  Yeah, I hear you.  Inserting the heat wave into the list reminds me of the old Sesame Street game, “Which of these things is not like the others?”

The thread of fear is pretty obviously strung through some of these events.  This morning, I found it interesting to note that NPR, not generally an alarmist news outlet, used the words “fear” and “afraid” in the blog post on the debt-ceiling crisis.  Should the public be afraid?  Probably.  The potential global economic impact of a failure to raise the debt-ceiling is pretty awful.  But, what struck me is how fear is affecting the process.  Why do politicians lock into a “my way or the highway” mindset?  Fear.  For humans, the loss of ability to compromise, to be flexible, indicates a loss of our higher brain functions.  The more we are driven by fear (fear of losing power, fear of losing face, fear of losing money, elections, etc) the more rigid we become.  Posturing to show “strength” is the human equivalent of puffing up our feathers or spines to look bigger to the predator.

“Terror” was prominent in the headlines referencing the bombing and shooting in Norway.  An apt adjective, for sure.  While the bombing in Oslo is horrific enough, I can’t imagine anything more terrifying than what the kids at that summer camp must have endured.  The thought of them seeing someone they believed to be a police officer – a person sent to keep them safe—open fire on them is nauseating.  But here, fear seems to be not only the result of the murderer’s actions, but the cause as well.  News reports refer to the suspect as an extremist who believes that immigration, multi-culturalism, and particularly Islam are destroying Norway.  A man acting from fear creates fear.

Now we drop into the seemingly banal.  However, in my mind at least, fear breeds fear.  The more we close our minds, bodies, and hearts, in self-protection, the more we make room for the truly dark things. 

Playgrounds – remember metal slides?  Do you remember the really tall ones, with their tight corkscrews and rickety ladders?  Do you remember how the metal burned your legs below the hem of your shorts on a summer day?  Do you remember the metal merry-go-rounds?  Do you remember trying to keep your legs moving as fast as those of the older kids, until you screwed up the courage for that jump and then landed on the spinning platform?  Do you remember the pit of fear in your stomach just before you took that leap?  My kids won’t.  And if you are a member of my generation or those that follow, neither will your kids.  As parents, we have clamored for freedom from fear for our children.  We have smoothed the edges, lowered the peaks, and softened the landings for our kids.  We are one step away from bubble-wrapping them into incompetence.  And, in our desire to protect our children from the scrapes and fractures of life, we have taught them that life is to be feared.  We are creating adults who will not have the skills to stand against the darkness of fear.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, by Sherman Alexie is on my to-read list, so I’ll admit that I am not yet qualified to speak intelligently about it.  (There are those who would say that I’m not qualified to speak intelligently about a number of things, but why let fear stop me?)  However, I was intrigued by the news that the Richland, WA school board had reversed a decision to ban Mr. Alexie’s book after two of the members originally voting for the ban decided to actually read the book.  The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian tends to spark controversy due to the “dark” nature of its subject matter.  The semi-autobiographical story of a boy raised in poverty on a Native American reservation attending a mostly-white high school deals with themes that middle class parents often fear exposing their children to.  The book was one of those listed in the recent rant against YA fiction in the Wall Street Journal.  I’ve already written my thoughts on the article and its implications, but for anyone uncertain as to my views on book banning, here they are:

1. If you don’t want your kids to read a book, fine, tell them.  However, your fears do not get to dictate what books my children can find in their bookstore, classroom, or library.
2. If you fear a book, read it.  Don’t make judgments based on hearsay and supposition.  Know what you fear.
3. The most famous book censor in history was Hitler.  Talk about a guy with fear issues.

I have to applaud the members of the Richland school board for having the courage to revisit their decision, and to look societal fears in the face.  Good job, guys!

Now we move on to what is, to me, the weirdest item on the list.  Sure, you say: “Breastfeeding doll, pretty darn weird.”  Nope, don’t misunderstand me.  I don’t think the doll is weird at all.  I think it’s weird to object to a doll that gives children a more accurate picture of the way babies are meant to be fed.  I think it’s weird that we began by making dolls that nursed out of plastic bottles.  I think it’s weird that modern society (and particularly American society) has such a dysfunctional, fear-based relationship with the bodily function that defines us as mammals.  What sort of self-loathing drives us to reject a fundamental aspect of our humanity?

My youngest child is now six, but I’ve never really gotten over some of the strange incidents that stuck out over a collective 6-7 years of breastfeeding my children.  (The breastfeeding resume extends over three kids; do the math before you freak out.) 

• My mom urging me to “go to the ladies’ lounge” to nurse Caitlin while we were in a mall restaurant.  “And do what,” I asked.  “Sit on the sink counter?”  Let’s face it, modern restrooms distinctly lack a space for actual “rest.”  But, more critically, I never could understand the logic behind socially isolating a woman who was feeding her baby the way it was meant to be fed.  No one would tell a woman with a bottle to go into seclusion to feed her infant.  I like intelligent lunchtime discourse.  Babies may be cute, but they are not great conversationalists.
• The same elderly women in a shopping mall who had cooed over Caitlin in her stroller giving me dirty looks a short while later as I sat on one of the padded benches nursing her.  For the record no “private parts” of my anatomy were on public display.  But, judging by the reactions of these women, you’d have thought I was doing a pole dance in a nursery school.
• The confused and paranoid responses of TSA agents to my breastpump as I prepared to board a flight to a conference.  Really, what’s the tricky concept here?  How are basic medical devices not a part of their training?
• The couple who pulled back the folds of my baby sling to see the “adorable baby” and who recoiled with horror as they realized that “the adorable baby” was having lunch while I pushed my cart through Costco.  Now, I think they should have been embarrassed for assuming that it was okay to touch me or anything on my person without my permission.  However, I wasn’t the least embarrassed about feeding my kid.   A screaming baby in the middle of a big-box store would have been more disturbing to me.

Our societal views on gender, sexuality, and reproduction are so fear-ridden as to be nearly completely dysfunctional.  It’s amazing that the American middle-class hasn’t become an endangered species.  Why do we refuse to talk to our children about reproduction until they are so deeply confused by their hormones that they are incapable of listening?  Why do we assign euphemisms to some body parts but not others?  How confusing must it be for children to hear a penis called “pee-pee” or “wiener”, but to know that an elbow is always an elbow?  Why do we permit our children to watch cartoons and play with toys that emphasize costumes sexualizing the female breast, but freak out at the concept of a doll who uses the breast for its intended purpose?

Fear.  Fear drives us.  Fear limits us.  Fear was meant to help us survive in a harsh, unpredictable natural world.   When the lion leaps from the grass, fear is a pretty good response.  This brings me to the last, and rather oddly shaped, bead.  How does extreme summer heat fit onto our fear necklace?

Two thoughts come to mind here:

1. Fear for the safety of the people and animals affected by abnormal or extreme climate conditions.  This is probably a ‘healthy’ fear as long as it doesn’t become incapacitating.  Fear of natural disaster can inspire us to plan and prepare; concern for others can pull us out of ourselves into a greater good.
2. Climate change.  The science is solid.  Climate change is real.  We are experiencing its effects, and will continue to do so.  Without action, we could really have something to fear.  However, an issue of fact continues to be a subject for debate, with substantial numbers of people denying the evidence.  Why?  Fear.  Humans don’t like to contemplate a reality that forces change.  We fear the unknown.  We fear loss of comfort, jobs, convenience.  We fear change.

Like climate change, the cycle of fear is real and prevalent.  And as with climate change, until we learn to look fear in the face and recognize it for what it is, it will continue to grow.  A friend posted a link to a podcast by author Tara Brach in the comments section to yesterday’s post.  Ms. Brach’s book Radical Acceptance (recommended to me a few years back by another friend) is one of my favorite tools for identifying and processing the fears that cripple me, and the podcast has some wonderful insights.

Closing with some of the best words ever on the subject.  Enjoy!

 

Ass-U-Me

Q: “What happens when you assume?”

A: “You make an ass out of u and me.”

Ok, yes, I know, this is an ancient joke, growing mold and pink slimy tentacles, but there is a point.  Yesterday afternoon, I gelded a donkey.  Now, anyone who has spent any time around the ass end of an ass knows that assumption is literally dangerous.  Taking a donkey for granted is a sure way to get one’s brains liberated from one’s skull.  However, even the most prudent of us often forget to extend the same courtesy and caution toward our fellow humans.

Recently, an essay I wrote on the closure of our large animal practice was published on Salon.com.  Now, here’s the thing with me and pieces I publish on-line, particularly essays.  I don’t read comments.  (By the way, that is not true of comments posted on this blog or at my website – those I read.)  I don’t read comments because, to me, essay writing is deeply personal, and while I may be able to make myself walk outside naked (it’s a metaphor, people!), I am not willing to stick around and listen to analysis of my cellulite.  However, by accident, I happened to glance at one of the comments on this essay, and while it was fairly obvious that the commenter is one of those mean-spirited people who crop up on the web, determined to make themselves feel better by haranguing others, something he said stuck with me. 

This commenter began by stating that he found it “interesting” that nowhere in my essay nor on my blog did I write anything about my love of animals.  The conclusion that was apparently reached was that I must not care about animals and thus went into veterinary medicine for all of the wrong reasons and “good riddance” to me.  My first reaction was that this line of reasoning was so preposterous as to be laughable.  After all, this person knows nothing about me, or the path of my life.  But then, I started to ponder the net of assumptions that led to this comment.

He wasn’t wrong.  I haven’t done a careful search of my archives, but it is quite possible that I have never written that I love animals.  For that matter, I’m not sure that I’ve ever explicitly written that I love my husband or my children.  This is assumption number one: I have assumed that these are conditions that are self evident.  It no more would have occurred to me to write any of these statements than it would have to type the phrase “I breathe.”  I assumed that anyone should understand that no sane person would endure the amount of education required to become a veterinarian, or the physical labor, long hours, and punishing weather inherent to large animal medicine without a love of animals.  This is neither glamorous nor particularly lucrative work, and I assumed that everyone knew that. 

My assumptions were in their own way just as callous and self-centered as those of the commenter.  Why should anyone know what I feel or what my motives are if I don’t express them?  It is my right to keep those thoughts to myself, but if I choose that route, I don’t have the right to be outraged when someone misunderstands me.  It may go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, this logic extends to more than passing internet remarks.  How often do we get offended with others for misjudging or misunderstanding us, or for failing to meet our needs when we have not let those people into our minds, when we have never expressed our needs or feelings?

Conversely, how often are we guilty of the same “piece of the elephant” logic as my commenter, assuming that we understand the entire picture from a fragmentary snapshot?  The most obvious contributor to this error in judgment is our abundance of social media.  With Twitter feeds and Facebook status updates, blogs, and texts, it is easy to make the error of assuming that we know the whole story, that we understand everyone from our dearest friends to complete strangers.  How often do we pass judgment based on what we assume that we know?  Even in person, how often do we assume that we understand the motivation for someone else’s comments or actions?  Do we bother to ask that person’s intent?  Do we bother to find out what else is happening in that person’s life, if they are hurt, frightened or stressed?

Assumption is easy.  It allows us to feel knowledgeable without ever having to venture beyond the walls of our own anxieties and concerns.  Reaching past that bubble is terrifying.  We might learn that we aren’t as smart as we think we are.  We might learn secrets about ourselves, or we might discover the humanity of others.  Dropping assumption means that we have to accept the black hole of uncertainty and ignorance.  We might find that the elephant is neither snake, nor fan, nor blade, but a giant and dangerous animal.

I don’t write about some of the things most basic to my life because like breathing, they are complex, deep, and essential to my existence.  And like with breathing, if I analyze them too closely, I might forget how they work.  However, and it does not go without saying, I love the animals that have been my livelihood for over a decade, I love my husband, I love my children, I love my parents, my sister, my brother-in-law, the few dear friends I have let past my barriers…Ok, you get the point.

 

Recent Article at Blog Critics

I have a new article posted at Blog Critics Rated E — for Everyone . My thoughts on limiting/placing warnings on content in children's books. Check it out; give me your thoughts!