from the royal fortress meadow

Quick update

2011-02-20T10:07:00.002-05:00

It's been a while-- my laptop computer crashed, permanently--so I didn't log on. Over the summer I went in search of a new job situation-- the prior contract had ended. I started a new job that was crazy and then realized I couldn't deal with certain security issues, so my job changed again.

In the middle of all this was another story, that I will need to tell more about on another day, that centers around the pregnancy, life, and stillbirth of my second child-- it's so stark here on the screen and yet I can't quite bring myself to write about it at length. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger-- I haven't gotten there yet-- they also say that everything gets used in one's writing-- I'm randomly pressing to get anything on paper and that is bland-- but this too shall pass, right? In it all, God has been so present, available. I've been surprised and gladdened and honored by the family and friends we have around us.

Here's to a good 2011-- so far I've just been trying to recover from 2010 but I've got time. And God is faithful.

quite a day

2010-06-10T11:07:00.001-04:00

I was having a lovely day—o.k., the weather wasn’t giving anything but still. I spent the morning with my son and niece and then the three of us had lunch with my sister-in-law. She is a delight and I regularly thank God for my brother’s wisdom and good taste in marrying her.
I got a later start after lunch than I intended which began the ‘rushed’ segment of the day. Not bad, not good, I just had certain time constraints that weren’t yielding. But I got to the happy place of spending time with some people who are really dear to me.
And we were having a good time, not all light and breezy, some things were more personal; but friends, food and good writing against the backdrop of our mutual love for God. Those things stayed but we got some bad news. One of the members of our group was ‘done wrong’ in the eyes of God, humanity and, in this case, the law. We all grappled to know how to best support her, and I can’t say if we helped or not, but we love her and we’re praying for her and that God will ‘deal with’ the other party (hear this in an ominous tone).
One of my friends was angry and disappointed with humanity and made some comments that I didn’t know how to react to but I’ll have to clarify later today. One of my friends was furious. Anger is a healthy response, the downside is that she doesn’t have a ‘working peace with anger’—and this phrase will sound more than bizarre to her.
Later, as I was unwinding and sorting through the day, my husband called down the stairs—our son had been sick, and had not made it to the bathroom. That’s one sick, shaky kid plus a puddle of fragrant vomit. But as we started cleaning, I discovered it wasn’t a tidy puddle, it had splattered, and my son’s floor is covered with stacks of pokemon cards he was sorting and books. Watching me try to clean and save his stuff (though the copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is actually mine), my son said, “This is tragic,” with a resigned slump to his already tired body.
It took us 25 minutes to get it cleaned up and him back in bed. We left him with a trash bag in a small can, just in case, and an hour later he made good use of it. I took that out but by then the combined smells were making me nauseous. I did lie in bed and wonder if this was just a bumpy day or spiritual warfare and I prayed accordingly—my sense of nausea lifted and my son made it through the night.
So, that’s how we started the summer. Not exactly auspicious but I’m surrounded by people I really love and that is priceless.

An Ecclesiastes mood

2010-04-09T21:53:00.000-04:00

I’m in a season of transition, without a clear sense of how that will look or where it’s really going. I have a two to three year goal that I’m moving towards but I go through periods of uncertainty as to whether that goal is a good one for me or a piece of selfish indulgence, and perhaps I’m just avoiding what God wants in my life. And everything under the sun seems pointless, though I still feel that my heart could easily be pierced or drown.
So I annoy the people who love me with my moods, even as I wish not to—both wanting their comfort and wanting to not bother them with what I know is me being unreasonable. And again wrestling down the problem of perceived vanity and emotional involvement, because I suspect that none of it really matters anyway, but it still does to me. I know the way the passage is worded: everything under the sun is meaningless, is vanity. But beyond the sun… that is where my answer lies. And I know God, well enough, at least, so I assent to the fact that some things do matter. But when I get in this mood, I’m more operating by faith than by sight and it’s a kind of blurry faith.
I’ve been here before. When I was young, it was different, I’d go into the deep blue depression and then either bounce or dig out. Some of that was based on encouraging the moodiness, and I’ve learned a few tricks to cut it off, at least the extremes. Now, I default to this bland down of Ecclesiastes where the sparkle of life is elusive and I miss it, crave it. But I suspect it doesn’t matter how I feel about it, I try to push myself through the steps of what I need to do because so many things are a process.
I have no idea whether I’m wasting time or not but it seems a month, a season, a year burns by faster than I think it should. And being stuck when things feel pointless is worse than when I can see motion in my life. Maybe I’m just distracting myself but it keeps me from making messes in my life for the sake of the novelty. Experience shows that the mood will pass, or abate for a time, to let me see the sun long enough and well enough to remember God.

some answers to the problem of evil and suffering

2010-02-05T19:27:00.003-05:00

My homegroup is looking at ‘what is your picture of God?’ and particularly as people look at the problem of evil and suffering. This week broke into debate and I was looking for the place of being understanding/ a bridge-builder, and also trying to be clear about my own views. Unfortunately, I don’t think I did either well (darn it). So now I have that desire to get it out there and tell you what I think. (I know, many of you are crinkling your foreheads and trying to decide if that’s a good thing.)
Most Christians are committed to the idea that God is all-powerful and is thus able to do as He wishes so for me the question comes down to “why does God *not* fix this?” And I’ve encountered a wide variety of answers that usually start in one of two ways: “God choose/appointed this suffering/evil for you because…” or “God did not choose this for you and the only reason He hasn’t stopped it/fixed it is…” So, I’m going to comment on the answers I’ve heard. Understand, all of these views come from a scripture (or several) and the people saying them usually love God dearly. While I will be direct in my opinion, I recognize that these are my brothers and sisters in Christ. Further, I think it’s important because I meet the people who wanted to love  God, do, still in their hearts, but they’ve been battered by the church and some of these answers contributed to the problem.

So here are the answers I’ve encountered:
“God choose/appointed this suffering/evil for you because…
answer A) He then gets the glory when He redeems it/you.
This comes from both John 9 and Job. I think they’ve misunderstood these passages and ignored several other passages that speak of God’s love and motivation. The problem I have with this is that it characterizes God as only interested in Himself and willing to use and abuse us to glorify Himself. Further, this view makes it very easy for pastors/leaders to abuse and use their congregations. Also, it makes redemptive efforts seem contrary to God (why try to cure cancer, doesn’t that steal glory from God?)
answer B) He is trying to teach you a lesson/make you more dependant on Him.
This primarily comes from the experience that we do draw closer and see that we’re more dependent on Him when we deal with times of suffering but it makes God a rather confusing and harsh teacher if we believe that He causes/appoints suffering and evil for that reason. It also, strangely, puts the focus on us instead of on God. The person with this view is scrabbling around to figure out what is wrong with them/what they should learn; their eyes are on their suffering and what they could possibly change. It also makes things seem like that person’s fault, as though they wouldn’t have had problem X if they were better learners or better Christians. I’ve heard people I deeply respect espouse this view but I must disagree.
answer C) He has a plan and His ways are higher than our ways so we must simply trust that this is good.
While there are certainly mysteries about God and He doesn’t answer every question the second we ask it, this answer feels like an evasion. It seems to say, “I don’t know so don’t ask so many questions.” It also tends to give the impression that one should check their brain at the door and simply obey the pastors and leaders, which often leads to spiritual abuse.
answer D) He looked at all the possible futures and this version of reality had the most number of people saved and the least overall evil/suffering.
I hold a different view but I can see how this one makes sense. It assumes that God is all-knowing and loving and is trying to get the best possible outcome on a bigger playing field. It is centered in His love and it holds firmly to values that God does have—the wish for all to be saved and the end of evil and death. It can lead to deism or to fatalism but it is one of the better views.

“God did not choose this for you and the only reason He hasn’t stopped it/fixed it is…”
answer A) you lack faith
While there are passages that mention faith, this is a gross misinterpretation of them. It conveniently blames the person suffering and averts the need to help them or show any brotherly compassion. It also encourages a kind of magical thinking where the person feels that if they get the faith part just right then they’ll get whatever they want. Of course, it’s impossible for us to measure the faith of another.
answer B) this world is broken and we are reaping the sin and death of the Fall.
This has real validity and is a major reason that we experience suffering and evil. The only problem I have with this is that sometimes we can forget that we have a God who is bigger than our world
answer C) this world is in the grip of intense spiritual warfare and while the war has been won on the Cross, there are still battles to fight until the ultimate conclusion.
Again, this is valid and true and we see this in both scripture and experience. The only problem I see with this is that a few people get overzealous and forget that some things are natural—it may be warfare causing person J’s anxiety or it may be physiological or psychological or a blend.
My answer is to make a hybrid of answers B and C.
It doesn’t take the pain away, but it makes it easier to lean on God and to see that He’s not capricious or playing favorites, which is how some of the other answers strike me.

Obviously, I have skimmed and summarized a lot here. (This is an insanely long post and I want you to make it to the end at least the second time you notice it.) I hope I’ve not been too confusing. I didn’t bring up many scriptures directly to keep from getting too detailed. I always come back to “God is love.” For me that is the beginning and ending of all theology. Our worship begins with Him loving us, then we love Him and also each other. I expect to see this core truth in the answers to suffering as well.

and the goose is getting fat?

2009-12-23T02:44:00.000-05:00

Some years I get excited and I feel Christmas coming for weeks and I’m ready. This year it has seemed to sneak up on me. The number of Christmas related activities seems to multiply. And I find I’m tired. I end up in these unfortunate pockets of crankiness and unhappiness. Earlier today I was in a sad mood, mulling over old rejections that there is no way to resolve, and I had to treat myself like a small child. I gave myself simple, reasonable answers and then put myself down for a nap. It was amazing, shortly after resting, I was able to make sense of the answers I already knew but hadn’t been able to consider in the midst of my mood. So I found a temporary footing, but I haven’t really grasped Christmas yet. Usually, I get caught up in the humanity of Christ—for me, the fact that He came as a baby and had to go through all the normal life moments seems a restoration of dignity of human-beings. And while the thought has crossed my mind, I haven’t rested on it.
I’m trying to find the Christmas zone though. We watched two versions of ‘A Christmas Carol’ and one of them I love and the other I had not seen before and won’t bother with again. But we got to the end of the good version and I was teary-eyed about Scrooge’s transformation. I was especially struck by Scrooge peeking in at his nephew eating and asking if he could come to dinner—earlier, he had been there with the Ghost of Christmas present and had wanted to linger and I found it humorous that he was begging to stay as an invisible observer at a party that he’d been invited to. Now, here he was with his hat in hand, hoping to be welcomed… And his nephew had always been more than happy to have him, had gone out of the way for him, even when Scrooge was being a jerk. I’m sure there’s a lesson for me in that, maybe more than one.
Just as I am typing, it occurs to me that another important piece of Christmas is God’s willingness to get involved, not as a ghostly observer, but as a participant, a guest at the table. He is not detached in any way, He is very much involved. Jesus doesn’t just touch our lives, he got down in the dirt with us. But, I think God is more trying to tell me the second point, I was always welcome and that he made a supreme effort, even knowing what a jerk I can be.
But I have digressed from the main point. Really, I’m trying to get in my head that Christmas is almost here. And I want to pass on a Merry Christmas to you. So eat a lot of food and wrap a lot of presents (hey, that’s what the dollar store is for, right?) and play with your new toys.
KP

a brief overview

2009-11-25T20:32:00.003-05:00

Right now I'm in the process of applying for grad school. (Please pray that I get in and get a position as a GTA). This means that I have a number of papers to prepare. One of them is an autobiographical statement intended to tell the committee about me as a potential student, writer, and instructor (GTA). My first draft was so stiff and formal that I scrapped it. The second version was a bit too conversational. This is the third draft. I thought I'd share it with you since I tend to assume my readers know this stuff about me, but some of you may not. Here you go:

I was an amateur poet in high school and college and occasionally I composed a short story. At the time, I saw writing as a hobby, though I took a couple of poetry writing classes. I wasn't serious about my education, and unfortunately my grades show it. But I did grow up during those years and I did complete my B.A. in March of 1995. While I was in school, I met and married my husband and spent the next couple of years waiting tables and staying involved at church.
Towards the end of 1996, we moved to Florida. There I briefly worked in an office, discovering that the corporate world was not for me. I went on to take a job as an instructor at Full Sail, a technical college offering associates degrees. I enjoyed teaching both lectures and computer labs. I liked to think up better ways to convey the concepts and projects to our students. Since we developed many of our course materials, I had opportunity to write non-fiction for work. I also volunteered to write for church related projects. The teaching element in generating non-fiction makes it satisfying.
I also found myself drawn to writing fiction. Story ideas and characters came to me and I committed myself to produce a novel. I had dabbled in fiction before but it soon supplanted poetry as the writing of choice. In addition to the novel, I have a number of story ideas and scenes, which all clamor to be completed.
In 2000, I had a child and focused on caring for him. Two years later, our family moved back to the Central Ohio area. The first draft of my novel was complete but it required revision, so I joined a writers’ group. There, I found both the camaraderie and the feedback I needed to progress. As I reworked the novel, I found myself trying to answer questions about the back story and the history of its world, which led to another novel.
Currently, I’m in the challenging process of marketing these pieces. Some say that it takes bravery to write, but I disagree; the writing is engaging and has a flow. Attempting to publish one’s work is where courage and perseverance are absolutely required. I’m also involved in taking care of my eighteen-month-old niece through the rest of this school year.
I intend to return to school in order to develop as a writer, to learn to navigate the publishing industry, and to reengage in the teaching process. My eventual goal is to publish a book per year and teach undergraduate students as either an adjunct or a professor.

Some ramblings about thinking…

2009-10-01T17:55:00.002-04:00

This was some stream of consciousness stuff from the other day--

It occurs to me that I think in stories. On one hand this is such a big ‘duh’ that it’s not worth mentioning but the observation has never been as clear to me as it is right now.

Once, many years ago, some friends were doing caricature impressions and the ‘snapshot’ of me was speaking quickly, drawing analogies for everything and gesturing enthusiastically, slowly backing my listener into a corner. (Now, that last bit was unfair, I didn’t and don’t corner people.) But the fastest way to ‘pin me down’ was my enthusiastic analogizing—this is like this and that and so on, and I like to synthesize my stories and thoughts together. Again, I feel the ‘duh’ aspect of this and yet I’m affected by the voices that dismiss fiction and analogies, which down play stories and storytelling. They present it as something childish like fairytales, or pretentious, or as some sort of a harmless pastime.

But I think in stories and analogies. I can handle linear patterns and classic logic (and believe me, it’s a dwindling skill) but I normally, naturally think in stories. And I have to conclude that many others do too. Partially because we drink in stories, we retell them. Even a lot of non-fiction is about the stories of ‘regular people’ learning what the book is trying to teach or about the extraordinary people in the field of interest. Christ used parables and really the Bible is a story about how God is love and how He loves us. And that is the most powerful thing I know.

Some random thoughts on moving forward

2009-09-18T17:02:00.003-04:00

I was thinking about a writers group I attend and the minor matter that one person hates blogs while another has convinced a number of us to start blogs. I was thinking we should probably get the anti-blogger give us his reasons and then be done with it. As that conversation was going along in my mind, I went down a weird side road about their relative credibility to us since the person who likes blogs is a long-standing member of the group and a successful writer while the other person is a novice.

The weird side road looked like this:
While some of us are wallowing in whatever about trying to be successful writers, he’s already done it. It’s like a kitchen that he’s already gone into, made coffee, fixed his eggs, bacon, toast, taken them to the table, eaten, picked up the dishes and put them in a dishwasher, poured himself a second cup and is standing there with the mug patiently coaxing an angst-y clutch of us to come in, that he already got a coffee mug out for us.
And I keep freaking out because there’s a barrier there, and what if I... [insert idiotic blithering and emotional baggage here] and he keeps saying, “No, no, it’s a baby gate. You can easily step over it. Or do what I do, use the little latchy-thingy to open it. Either way, you can do this.”
I go back to whining and crying in self-doubt but I’m beginning to have a second conversation behind that one. What if he's right and it is a manageable simple thing? And, crap, I’d look foolish standing at a baby gate stymied. And how long do I plan to stand here looking foolish?
Hopefully, I’ll have the good sense to step over and he will hand me some coffee and say, “See, all better now.” And I’ll shrug off the stupidity, and it will be all better.

P.S. Reading this blog does qualify you for a passport stamp on kimworld, which I believe is in the Galaxy of Thar, or maybe it’s at the other side of the black hole in Thar’s center... hmmm.... I’ll have to check.

P.P.S If you have no idea what the last comment was about, don’t worry, you’re probably better off not knowing.

And I'm ranting...

2009-09-09T16:27:00.000-04:00

I’m in a pissy mood about the whole healthcare reform thing. No, I’m really more upset that everyone is so busy trying to ‘help’ me (I’m one of those uninsured Americans) but none of its supporters is willing to listen to me. I wrote my representatives in the House and the Senate. The one representative’s office sent back a respectful letter that implied that whoever the staff member was had actually read it (a Republican) and the other (a Democrat) sent a letter that basically said, ‘I’m glad you’re interested in the healthcare issue, here is what I’m doing to pass the President’s bill’. This response would have made sense except I wrote to say that I am strongly opposed to mandated health insurance (if we can’t opt out then we have problems… if you want to know more, I’ll be happy to share), I’m opposed to increasing the debt by another TRILLION dollars and I sent a couple of suggestions on how to really help Americans with their healthcare costs (since I do have some experience). I am an Independent, I have voted both red and blue depending on the year and sometimes the for Libertarian Party—it just so happens that right now the Dems are on my last nerve with their persistent dismissal of anything but enthusiastic agreement. And unfortunately, most journalists lean left (they say they stay objective about the news but I have to disagree quite strongly—sometimes they run so blue during actual news reports I have to check the program because I swear it must be an op-ed show—then they bitch about actual op-ed shows whose hosts admit they to lean towards the right) which means that the news programming on CNN (and they are representative of the majority) about the unsettled Town Hall meetings either reports confusion about these ‘strange rabble rousers’ or insists that this is some plot by Rush Limbaugh, but none of these reports seriously consider that a decent percentage of Americans don’t want the legislation—which is their openly stated opinion. Let me say this another way, one president ago, when a few loud (and sometimes disruptive) protesters against the war in Iraq in a public address were discussed on the news, it was usually with the slant that the politicians were trying to ‘shut down free speech’ and ignore these representatives of ‘general public opinion.’ Now, when a large group of loud (and sometimes disruptive) protesters against this healthcare bill show up in a Town Hall meeting (which is typically where people are expected to present concerns and opinions), the slant is that this fringe group is trying to manipulate the system and that this obviously doesn’t represent the majority view. I’m a little annoyed with the news shows—it’s probably good we cut the cable, but I still read the on-line news reports…

Part of me wants to laugh it off. I am Gen X, we never had a chance at shouting down the Baby Boomers (and we weren’t all that into shouting anyway) so I’m used to the notion that I can lodge a protest but that no one really wants to hear it. But, ultimately I think this is a rant about one of my personal issues—that is I want to be seen, understood, valued, encouraged, etc. And I’m deeply bothered when I feel ignored, misunderstood, dismissed, judged, especially when I’m left holding the bag—which is how I interpret an expensive mandatory healthcare bill that leaves the country profoundly in debt.

So I will send/have sent the official letters, lodging my protest, and pray that what we get is better than what I fear. And thank you for letting me complain.

What’s up?

2009-08-24T21:38:00.002-04:00

I think after that last blog, I wasn’t sure where to go. It is more a teaching than a sharing and I am more comfortable with teachings. When it’s a sharing, I have to figure out what to share. So, since I don’t know, I’ll give you the quick overview of the last two months—we had 1) the major period of discouragement and insecurity 2) planning and schedule madness 3) vacations 4) gearing up for back to school and back to living with a schedule

1) I went through a period of real discouragement. I would sometimes stop and think that this must be spiritual attack and pray and I would have a minor letup in the onslaught of feelings of worthlessness and despair. But any ‘good’ attack will go after a weak area so getting the enemy to clear off was helpful but I was already an emotional basket case at any point that I realized the source of the trouble. I have joked before that I have prosecuting attorneys in my head who are entirely ruthless and they are limited only by my ability to use logic, thus I sometimes pray for ‘angelic lawyers’. But a lot of prayer later, I’m back to a normal level of discouragement and insecurity (which will hopeful approach zero before I die)
2) Strangely, my schedule and that of those people whose lives intersect with mine became complex. I spent more time with my schedule book on the phone negotiating in that 10 day span than I had doing scheduling for the year up to this point.
3) Then we had the actual vacations and pseudo-vacations themselves. Part of the time, my son and I were staying at my mother’s house taking care of her dogs. She told us to rummage for any food we wanted—so we ate steak and I had a delicious bowl of spaghetti and something else that I really enjoyed at the time, that was the good side. The bad side is that I don’t usually sleep well when I’m away from home, and I didn’t sleep well at all. Later, we went to St. Louis. That was good, I hung out with my Dad and got to see where he and his wife had moved to. We went to this cool place called The City Museum—it was part playground and part obstacle course and we had a great time. I know that I’m not unfit, but I need to exercise a lot more than I have been.
4) We are now to the 'gearing up for the new school year' which is going to be at a different building this year. We have my son’s birthday coming up as well, which means a party with children and a visit from my mother-in-law (who I like though I don’t always know what to talk about with her). Plus, we are looking at the budget and trying to decide what expenses we can cut and what is really worth it for us.

So, there it is in a nutshell. I hope that the return to a more predictable schedule will make it easier to make progress on all of my writing tasks. And maybe I’ll blog more often… but no promises.

Women teaching?

2009-06-25T20:24:00.001-04:00

I haven’t blogged lately and my husband suggested that I post my thoughts on 1 Tim. 2 (esp. vs. 12) because he feels I have a deep understanding of the passage . I was concerned that it would be too theological and intellectual. (I should have worried about it being too long.) But the reason I spent so much time coming up with a comprehensive and thorough view is the personal nature of the passage.

I remember the first time I read the verses. I was at home, I think I was a senior in high school, and I was in my basement hangout spot, just reading the Bible. I got to the passage and I had that instant, ‘What?’ reaction and so I reread it. And I was so offended I literally threw the Bible across the room. (Now, understand, I was the child who wouldn’t set anything on top of my Bible because it seemed rude to God’s word to just treat it like any old book.)

Wrestling with this passage has led me from feminism to complementarianism to egalitarianism (if you don’t know what I’m talking about then be glad-- there is a rather heated debate about the ‘Biblical’ understanding of women’s roles and relations between the genders). But, through it all, my desire was to be faithful to God, hear the truth and generally do what was right. So I spent time considering the texts, the contexts and the arguments.
Ultimately my study led to a translation of vs. 12 and an understanding of the passage around it that is fair to the Greek, makes sense in the context of both the letter and the Bible, and has the added bonus of NOT NECESSITATING any particular view about men and women.

Vs. 12 is normally translated something like this: “I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent” which is the NIV rendering. As I studied, I found that the Greek is rather unusual in this verse. Most literally it reads: “Women * teaching neither to permit (give leave) nor to usurp (domineer) men but to be in quietness (silence, tranquility, composure).” Now, several points of note: 1) the * represents a connecting word that ties together women and teaching 2) the ‘neither, nor, but’ construction in Greek is quite stable, meaning I can’t mix and match parts of the phrase 3) the verb tenses are relevant-- all the verbs except teaching are in the infinitive. The traditional rendering pulls apart the sentence structure, ignoring these points. The words themselves are sometimes debated or have several uses, so I listed several options. If I had no preconceived notions about the meaning and just looked at the text, I would take it to be a comment on either the demeanor of women when they teach or the content of their teaching. Then the problem word would be the verb ‘to permit’. When I looked it up, I found it has been translated ‘give leave to do as one wishes’ which here would make some sense, implying that either chaos or permissiveness is the problem. So it would be rendered either A) Women should not teach a permissive wildness nor should women teach rebellion against men but women should teach tranquility and composure or B) When women teach they shouldn’t just give leave to let the students do whatever, nor should they use their teaching time to domineer and disrespect men but when women are teaching they should be tranquil and composed. Given that there is a lot of talk in this letter and the next about false teaching and the immediate context is inappropriate behavior during religious practice, both renderings fit.

Someone who favors a traditional male hierarchy can take translation A and buffer it together with the Titus admonition that older women teach the younger ones to care for their families and be respectful. Those who think that teaching roles should be open to women will see that women are not allowed to use their teaching to encourage chaos or rebellion but should present, persuade and make their points respectfully.

Verse 11 is often used to bolster the hierarchal view but it really says that women should be appropriately composed as students. The word submission there comes from a military term that means ‘one of the troop’-- Paul is telling the women to behave as students, no more, no less. The three verses that follow, 13-16, are obviously, grammatically, meant to connect to his comment in what we see as vs. 12. Some readers try to take them as an appeal to a universal, timeless understanding of men’s hierarchical superiority and women’s incompetence and then they generally ignore verse 15 or take it as a random comment. But that leads to a lot of theological problems, like if women can’t teach because they’re gullible and the first man wasn’t deceived then how do we trust a teacher who knew full well that eating of the tree was sin but did it anyway? Rom. 5 explains the consequence of Adam’s choice for all of humanity, understanding both there and in Gen. that the man ‘was with’ his wife and thus he made his choice for whatever reason.

However, there is a much more natural understanding for the passage if we consider the context. We know the Ephesians worshiped their own version of Artemis. The classic character was convinced that men were the source of evil and to be seduced by a man was to be tainted by him. But in Ephesus, it appears that they had altered and adapted her since most scholars agree that Artemis of the Ephesians was looked to for fertility and for help with childbirth. Those things are known/generally undisputed. I suggest that an obvious choice for the Ephesians to keep some of their earlier beliefs would be to slightly re-render Gen. 1 to make the man the one who caused all of the trouble and to make women the innocent bystanders who then turned back to their beloved Artemis in the time of pregnancy. While I am speculating, this fits with everything known, who people are, and makes sense of the passage here. Paul would be correcting their attempts to synchronistically adapt their Artemis and some specific points of false teaching-- 1) man was there first, it wasn’t his introduction that messed things up 2) Eve made her own choice, no one forced anything on her, she is reaping the consequences of her own decision 3) don’t turn to Artemis again when you’re worried about childbearing, Christ can be relied upon to bring you through it.

From this, I can be reminded by this passage to be appropriate and reverent in all my worship activities, as suggested from vs. 8 through 15, and to not use worship activities to further an agenda either by inappropriate prayers, dress or behavior during teachings. I am reminded that sin is the problem of both men and women, no blame-shifting will do. And that I should ultimately depend on God, not get caught up in power plays, in attempts to gain attention to myself or turn to some other ‘deity.’ As mothers, aunts, and the like, women will be teaching someone and instruction to teach appropriately is useful regardless of what roles one believes should be open to women in the church and the larger society.

To feel real again

2009-05-08T20:00:00.002-04:00

I’ve been in the mood to hear Seven Dust lately (happily, my husband happens to have it lying around) and one song in particular sticks with me, Beautiful. Some of the lyrics are (to the best of my knowledge--don’t sue me if I’ve misquoted)

Feel--when I’m in doubt
I need something beautiful
To fill the space we’ve taken up
I need something to feel real again
Before I go numb

(Are you alive?)

I’m struggling-- I find that all the best and most well-meaning Christian teaching in the world is often so out of context for me that it becomes counterproductive. The thing is, I’ve been a Christian for a long time, and I love God-- He knows how fickle and foolish I can be but that like some strange infestation, I keep coming back... and back... and back. But I don’t think there is a clear idea of what it is supposed to look like or feel like when you are an older Christian in a fallen world with the ordinary drives and problems of humanity. In spite of the popular press, we don’t become more ethereal and ‘spiritual’ as we pass the 15 or 20 year mark. We have a handful of things that we know-- that deep profound knowing. I’ve been though some crap but I know God is good-- I know He has always been faithful. That doesn’t mean that fear and anger don’t overwhelm me, it means that they don’t dismantle my relationship with God. And I have the things that I cling to, like the profound nature of His Grace, which I can deliver in full force to others though I struggle to fully receive it-- and it’s not, as some suppose, that I fail to understand the power of sin (usually said in a tight, ominous voice) but that I’ve seen mercy triumph over judgment so many times that I know where to ‘bank my money’. But the thing is, the older I get the more it seems like God invites us to be comfortable with our physical, intellectual and emotional selves, not in the noble and grandiose way that the teachings make it sound but just plain able to be honest with ourselves.

But it’s hard to filter all the ‘good’ advice and ‘good’ teaching that would lead me awry because I’m not a newbie who’s never thought about God before, who’s never needed to rely on Him. It’s like with marriage, at some point differentiating between my agenda and my husband’s agenda is murky. Some of ‘my’ agendas are specifically for him, things that I think are to his benefit, because our lives and futures and pressing concerns have substantial overlap. In the same way, I can’t always tell anymore what is my agenda and what is God’s-- not that I can’t be oblivious and selfish, but my hopes and destiny have been tied to Christ for a long time. They are now intertwined, telling me to sacrifice my agenda and accept God’s is just confusing. I need help teasing out which is which, and it requires subtlety.

This is all a long ramble to say that I’m struggling with the experience that church life is obscuring God for me even as it is the place where I am most likely to be encouraged to pursue God. I need the encouragement, the different perspectives and experiences but the overall feel is one of creating doubt and numbing the raw beauty of God.

I’ve been here before, I’ll push through. The Lord knows that one of my weak links is my relationship with the church as an organization. And like some strange infestation, I keep coming back... and back...

I would tell you but then I’d have to kill you...

2009-04-27T00:03:00.000-04:00

It’s quirky-- I’m usually reserved and yet when it comes to my own life, I struggle to keep secrets. Other people’s secrets aren’t a problem, I’ve been told I’m a good listener (and since I heard them say that, I’ve proven that they’re not totally wrong) so people tell me things that I respond to and store away in some strange corner of my mind. But when it comes to myself, I have to constantly hold my tongue to keep from saying anything-- even now I so want to tell you what’s been going on behind the scenes-- there was a minor health concern that we wanted to keep from my rather perceptive 8-year-old until or unless something needed to be said. (Everything came out clean, I’m in good health, but the whole situation put me in a really foul mood.)

But I have to laugh at myself. Generally, I’d rather hear about my friends than talk about me-- through a combination of shyness and the feeling that I spend a lot of time with my own stuff already. And I can hardly keep myself from sharing a personal secret. Further, since I’m in a foul mood about the whole thing (a free 12 pound weight gain is just one of the bonus features you’ll receive with shipment!) and I still can only sort of share my crappy/mad/sad mood. Again, ironic, because I normally pull in when I’m upset. I’m one of those people who chat and joke at funerals and then sob until I run out of snot at home. And when I’m furious, I have a good stage voice (I can be clearly heard) but there’s no shouting. (The people who’ve seen/experienced my fury don’t feel better because of the controlled volume).

So for those of my friends who complain that I don’t talk about myself enough, just convince me that we have to keep the information a secret, then I’ll be positively bursting to tell you, just make sure I don’t think I have to keep the secret from you.
KP

Sheesh, it’s just a letter

2009-02-09T16:53:00.001-05:00

I’ve been working on a query letter and synopsis for Colin’s logs. In theory a query is a simple practical matter-- but I’m an anxious, nervous wreck. I think part of my problem is that I feel pressure to get it right. I mean I look through books on how to write a query, what should be in it and there are pages and pages of admonitions to ‘grab the editor/agent from the first word’ and to ‘sell your story’, and to ‘sell yourself as the person to write it’, making sure that every word is just so. (I think I need a paper sack, I’m about to hyperventilate here.)

But even with the best letter I could possibly write, I’m still afraid. It’s kind of a funny Catch-22 situation-- I’m afraid of taking the next step and I’m afraid of staying here. Then I feel silly about the whole thing-- it’s not like editors and agents have a James Bond eject button that will send me flying through the air if they don’t like it (and, thankfully, it would be too expensive to install). I can step back and be objective. I write fairly well and the book in question is a good read with some humor in it that will please readers in the sci fi/fantasy fan base but it’s not likely to be a Twilight kind of seller either, nor do I need it to be. One day, I’d like to have a real run-away-train like that, but Colin is really an opening salvo in what will hopefully be a long line of publishing credits. I need it to do well enough so I will be welcome to publish other stories. I have another manuscript that will be ready to market by the summer and several partial projects that I’m working on. But I have to get over the hill of marketing.

While I was writing, I kept having people commend my courage. Finishing a novel is a challenge but it wasn’t frightening, it called for sheer persistence more than courage. Critiques and revisions are tough, but good reviewers lead to such improvements that I can get over it. The writing is easy, marketing is where my neurotic insecurities show.

I have a decent core letter (with the help of some friends) and even if I’m a complete nut case, I can still address it to the agent or editor in question. My mother volunteered to actually mail the letters so that I don’t freak out and accidentally drop it in the trash instead of the mail (o.k., I exaggerate a bit). So, sooner than later, I’ll just suck it up and send it out-- wish me luck!

God did what?

2008-12-24T22:37:00.001-05:00

It’s Christmas time and I’ve been busy making all of the preparations while the real point of the holiday lingers in the back of my mind. Most years, the birth of Christ reminds me of His humanity. This was a baby whose diapers needed changed, who had to learn to walk. He tasted different foods and probably had favorite dishes. He worked, when He was older, with his earthly father as a carpenter so He knew the satisfaction of pounding in a nail, the odd sensation of having sweat roll down you back. And while this still affects me, this year I’ve been struck by His vulnerability.

A baby comes into the world so small and weak-- newborns are like rag dolls whose heads loll to one side or the other unless you consciously care for them. And Jesus, the helpless infant, was the the plan to save the world. The usurper tried to snuff him out-- like with the massacre of the babies officially performed at Herod’s orders (though I’m sure he had help coming up with that idea).

I live in the time after, I have the benefit of “It is finished” (which I doubt I fully realize). So I need have no anxiety, but there are so many ordinary dangers that children face, like the obligatory cold-- what baby doesn’t have a fever that their parents sit up all night monitoring?
This is not something I’ve pondered long and I don’t think I understand it yet. The vulnerability, the huge risk involved... I mean I know God was taking care of the whole plan and yet so much was riding on someone so tiny. It floors me. I struggle with the ordinary level of human frailty when it comes to sending my child out into the big, bad world because I know he will not be complete, he will not mature if I prevent him from doing so. But God sent His Son into a world whose evil He saw clearly, knowing the usurper would try to kill him, with the whole fate of humanity on his shoulders. I believe it worked because it did. But the sheer audacity... it amazes me.

Perhaps I’m more struck by God the Father’s vulnerability. He put everything on the line, the fate of humanity, as well as that of His only Begotten Son. All His hopes tied up in one small child who couldn’t do anyhting but sleep, cry, eat and expel. I’m shocked it worked. I’m more shocked that God wanted to try it all. That’s insane love.

What’s your excuse?

2008-12-01T15:47:00.003-05:00

My childhood was plagued with the question: What’s wrong with you? When I was small, it was my father. He was an only child straight out of the army who had the idea that there was one ordained way to do anything and that it was obvious to all sentient beings. Thus my actual or perceived failures brought my sentience into question. Did I mention he has a rather forceful quality when he’s mad? Oh, yes, he can scare the wits out of grown men, so as an undersized preschooler, I was S.O.L. (In retrospect it made me stronger, I kind of wish I could have given weak a try.)
So at home I was asked how stupid I was or some such variation on the theme. Then I went to school, where Miss C. continued the fine tradition of asking me and herself what was wrong with me. Of course, she wasn’t angry or annoyed-- hers was more a puzzled dismay, but that sealed the deal for me. The same question everywhere but at my grandmother’s house (thank God for that). I’m sure that Miss C. had no intention of leaving me wondering about myself and I know that in general, (that is: not frustrated by the ways of small children) my father both likes and respects me. Unfortunately, I came away with the ingrained habit of asking myself what my problem is. I must say, while it’s not the worst possible habit, it isn’t particularly helpful either.
I have noticed that at various points of my life, I have supplied a sort of official answer so that I wouldn’t be blindsided by the disappointments and judgments of others. It’s not so much that I want to please them (or displease them) but that I go through this awful analysis: ‘Have they caught what my problem is? Have they figured it out and nailed me with it?’ Of course, they rarely are making a valid critique or offering meaningful feedback, they’re upset because they wanted something particular from me and I didn’t ‘play right’.
But the question nags me and the fear of being blindsided by the lack of an answer is terrible. I’ve found that some of my official answers protect me, but they create this set up where I’m then drawn to either fix it or they start to take a toll on my self-concept. So, for example, I’ve used ‘I’m a freak’ which worked fairly well in that late high school/early college range. But at some point the answer became counterproductive. My last excuse ate itself several years ago, and I’ve tried the ‘there’s nothing wrong with me’ approach but (since I am actually a fallen, limited human) that answer doesn’t work either.
In the past, I kind of stumbled into my answer and this time I’m trying to be more mindful. Right now I’m toying with a slightly different approach. I’m thinking of presenting a need, a minimum requirement that must be met--one that is not really a fixable quality, but a fillable one. The current draft is something like: I need a minimum amount of creative expression or else I get depressed and irritable and generally unmotivated. That way the ‘fix’ is to give me the time/space for creative expression and the problem is an unmet need. I just have to convince myself that presenting this as a need will survive the critical lawyers in my head (my mind is a fun place to live, but it’s not for everyone--actually, there’s only enough room for me and God, sorry). So, I’ll let you know if I decide to go with this, or if I make some changes. Either way, you’ll know my excuse.

But will it work?

2008-11-11T18:25:00.002-05:00

I have this minor issue. I write novel length fiction but I never quite finish it. It’s always a draft that needs work. This is a substantial problem for my life as a writer, I can’t actually sell stuff that’s not quite ready.
So as I finished a draft of the story that I refer to as The Origin of the Wells (though I plan to change that) and I had it in that place where I needed to make a few edits and minor changes, I became impossibly stuck. Usually I just abandon the project and start playing with something else but I wanted to push this through. Unfortunately that meant I had writing time that I was balking at using. Again, not so good for my life as a writer.
Somehow I ended up leaving the library with the book The Artist’s Way. (I blame God, I really can’t remember why or how I ended up with it.) And since the author’s goal with the book is helping creative types get unblocked and/or unstuck, I thought it would make sense to at least open it. It offers a twelve week ‘course’ and in the beginning the author (Julia Cameron) asks you to sign a contract that you’ll complete the whole plan. I wrestled with the joint problems of gross over-enthusiasm (this is going to be amazing, revolutionize my working life!) and a passive sort of cynicism (it’s going to be a big drain on my time and I’m going to end up in exactly the same place I started, just twelve weeks later). But I decided that I was probably going to sit and procrastinate for twelve weeks anyway so I might as well give it a try.
So that’s what I’ve been doing. So far I’ve written less than usual but I did shove the draft of Origin forward enough to give it to my favorite copy editor. (Conveniently, I’m married to him so he works for free.) The main reason I did that much work was because I invited a bunch of my friends to a Tea Party/Ceremony to celebrate the finished draft. (I don’t work well to deadlines, I just don’t work at all without them.)
Of course, I only did about half of what was really required so I have several things that I know he’s going to redline. And, while he may not catch it, I never sat down and worked out the continuity and timing of the one character’s pregnancy. They use a different dating convention (ten day spans instead of seven day weeks) so I need to make sure her pregnancy is progressing at a normal pace and I can’t just easily glance at it. (I had to make it more complicated, didn’t I?) But the process of working through The Artist’s Way is my major activity right now. I’m not sure its helping me write but it is helping my relationship with God, so I won’t complain. I’m just beginning the sixth week and I should finish the process around Christmas. So, we’ll see if I have a burst of creative production for 2009. (I’ll take a beneficial steady stream.)

Eight Random things-- a game of blog tag

2008-09-29T11:09:00.003-04:00

I was picked by Julie at One Lap Around the Sun
My list--
1. I tend to create a nest, a place I always sit surrounded by books, paper, pens, half-full mugs, and such
2. I take strong tea with a lot of sugar in the morning
3. I use sudoku puzzles and solitaire games to help me when I’m feeling anxious
4. I’d rather stay up until 4 or 4:30 in the morning and sleep until 11:30, but I rarely get the chance
5. I like looking at floor plan books and magazines
6. I can get totally overloaded in places with too many sounds and screens and people and, apparently, it’s funny to see me glaze over
7. When I write, I use pen and paper and then type it later (sometimes a pencil)
8. I prefer cooler weather, autumn is my favorite season

The eight bloggers I tagged are:
1. Sean at a sustained nuclear assault
2. Lili at thinkingsofalili.blogspot.com
3. ‘Professor Blog’ at thousandwords.blogspot.com
4. to be announced
5. to be announced
6. to be announced
7. to be announced
8. to be announced
It's hard coming into the game in progress. Julie and I know a lot of the same blogs.

Here are the rules, if you'd like to participate in the Eight Random Things Blog Tag:
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

Thanks for playing!
KP

Blog Slacker

2008-09-14T01:13:00.000-04:00

I had the time to write a great blog or take a nap-- I chose the nap. When I was considering whether or not to start a blog, and friends encouraged me to do so, I had two fears. The first was that I would get so sucked up and drawn into blog world that nothing else would get done unless it was directly screaming at me. The second fear was that I would start it and then slowly drift away and have this nagging relic of a thing I left dangling.
I do that sometimes, I get enthused about a new project and then it becomes part of the ordinary and everyday world. And I’m only so-so on the everyday part of life. I like a good meal and kid hugs, but I generally like fantasy and science-fiction and the NOT ordinary. I lose track of what the point is in the everyday and mundane (kid hugs are always important and the food, well, I just like food).
I’m half listening to a couple at church sharing a testimony about how God brought them through her battle with cancer (yes, I’m in church, not really giving it my full attention--sorry). They were asked if they would undo the cancer, change that part of history if they were given the option (which is one of those questions I hate). And their answer is about how suffering produces growth and change and such and I will assume that I missed the best part of that answer/response because I was thinking about how much I struggle with things that seem pointless and repetitive. (Rote learning was never my strong suit. Talk about ways to bring out my oppositional streak.) The more ordinary something becomes, the more repetitive, the more it seems to provide no benefit, the more it annoys me. Of course, I only make the bed when I’m changing the sheets, because all I’m going to do is sleep in it. (If my room were also a study or some other living space, I might feel differently, but...)
Unfortunately, I have rambled to say that I’ve become a blog slacker. Now, in my regular life, things are acceptably clean and bills get paid on time and my child gets fed regularly, so I can get things done. But I have to move past the the first failing (becoming absorbed) and the second failing (neglecting it completely) and into the place where I know why it matters and how far to let it affect me. (Because perfectionism is waiting it’s turn. No, correct that, it is screaming at me now about how I sound like a jerk and there is no way I could possibly post this.)
The thing about blogging is, I enjoy reading everyone else’s posts. Then I see my listing on the blogs of people I care about... Three weeks ago... a month ago... and I realize that I’m not playing along. So, while I keep hoping to share what is important or deep or spiritual, I’ll try to at least share something. Because what I care about is the sense that I have connected with the friends I know, and maybe one or two I have the opportunity to know yet.

I blame Julie

2008-08-13T02:13:00.000-04:00

I’ve been a bit of a blog slacker. I’ve been writing the new story and watching Olympics. So, when I checked on The Radical Write and saw her ‘I am from...’ challenge, I thought I’d give it a try. It reminded me that I’m kind of funny about prompts myself. Many, including this one, assume that people are really grounded in the details and the sensory information of life, but I’m not so much. I enjoy the sensory, tactile world and I enjoy a good meal but the experiences flow past me. The one major thing I like about the Myers-Briggs personality profile is that it gives me a context to explain myself. I chart out the intuitive rating-- it’s kind of refreshing in a weird way if I get a single blip on the sensor side. These prompts that are designed to elicit the what, where, and when information are a bit sloppy for me. I guess investigative journalism is out. Oh, well.

I am from...

I am from the giant willow tree, paperback books, the pool and the local fire department where Dad worked.

I am from the middle of Ohio-- with a fairly common Scots, Welsh, German blend (we don’t go gently into that good night). Things weren’t always tidy but Mom kept it clean, in more ways than one.

I am from the deep part of the beautiful river and from the rocks and caves in Hocking Hills whose winding paths I remember as old friends.

I am from perseverance and mischief, from an irresistible force and an immovable object.
I am from reserve and strong words and from getting it done and making it work.

I am from precious and space cadet and this too shall pass.

I am from creamy casseroles for dinner and doritos with homemade chili con queso and egg rolls we assembled ourselves.

I am from the hospital my mother almost didn’t reach (I was impatient form the beginning) and a joke for every occasion.

I am from my grandmother who had the profound commitment to us that makes God’s loyalty make sense, and she could be the iron fist in the velvet glove to those who crossed her protected ones. Sometimes I find a recipe in her handwriting stuffed randomly in the pages of my Fannie Farmer cookbook.

(This was a whole lot of me-- I have a shy streak, blogging feels weird to me.) K.P.

One of these kids is doing their own thing, I hope

2008-07-23T00:44:00.000-04:00

I had some free time yesterday and I ended up at the computer while our new CD was playing, Celldweller. We found it in a fashion that suits us: my husband spent a lot of time surfing on Amazon and I periodically wandered into the room and listened to the on-line samples of the stuff he’d already screened-- thanks, hon. “I’m not sure but I think this Klayton guy used to be known as Scott Albert,” he said, which put me in the way-back machine to some really good music in the early to mid ‘90s. I said something really profound like, “Hum, well, it sounds good either way.” And thus a CD comes into the collection (I definitely have the better end of this deal).

I got on the internet to track how the artist went from Brainchild and Circle of Dust to his current moniker and had the opportunity to read an interview about why he took Circle off a Christian label. I remember in the ‘90s, when my husband worked in a Christian book and music store, that we would discuss (rant about) the apparent desire on the part of both the music industry and the church to reward the most lyrically bland and musically talentless of the offerings and punish the rest. And it seems that when Klay felt punished enough, he took his talent and found people who were interested. I don’t blame him. Though I will say the good artists and even the ‘lets make an evangelistic tool’ groups did help expand the Christian playlist. Thank you.

But really, this is not only about the past for me, nor is it academic. I love to write, especially science-fiction and fantasy. Lately, I’ve had this story in my mind, the kind that will make a lot of Christians cranky. Which only matters because I want to continue being part of that community. The story has a redemption theme (I don’t try for it, I just believe that people can be brought back from the brink and get their life turned around). But people who need redemption have problems, and their path isn’t always a perfect straight line. Which means some Christians will question my 'right' to continue being acknowledged by the Christian community because of the questionable content.

So here I am, writing something ‘controversial’ and ‘inappropriate’ without a clue in the world what I will do with it. I love writing the tale, it just flows. I was surprised the other day to realize it was 5 am-- I’d totally lost track of the time. I tell myself to just keep writing, and it nearly writes itself, so I continue. Yet, when I imagine the possibility of it being published, the word “pillory” comes to mind. Obviously, there is no guarantee that it would find a publisher anyway but I know someone will ask how it can be godly to even write such a work. I have many good reasons and biblically sound arguments but those miss the point, because the real reason is that I don’t think I can live at peace with myself and not write the story.

It is a novel, and those take a long time. Maybe long enough to tell myself what I would tell my child if he were in a similar situation. ‘It is humility and wisdom to listen to and consider the advice of others; and then to remember that you can not live out the convictions of your neighbor.’ Hopefully, when I finish, I will be clear on what I can live with.

It's MY lollipop

2008-07-05T15:22:00.000-04:00

My husband told me I had to come and take a look at something he read on the Glenn Beck web site. I was relaxing, so I waited until the commercial break and came up to look. Beck had a bit about this ad campaign that some Islamics are using in Australia. They want all women to be in burkahs all the time (apparently women should be neither seen nor heard). The ad shows a covered lollipop and then one unwrapped and covered with flies. Beck’s guest could read the Arabic text and was able to confirm that the meaning of the ad was, to put it crudely, ‘if we see you, we will rape you.’ I wasn't relaxed anymore.

I understood the ad without the translation. Offended? Yes. My mind started constructing an argument. I imagined an electronics store with a DVD player sitting in a display window. If an Islamic man smashes the window and steals the player, he is a criminal and a coward. The same thing is true with women, whether the model is on display or in a box in the back of the store, violently stealing from her is still criminal and cowardly.

Scrolling down the web page, Beck offers his own response: a picture of a fly swatter. Good thinking. No matter what your politics, I’m glad that some people in the media are clear that we won’t accept that crap.

But was I surprised? No. There is little ambiguity in Islamic law about who they think is at fault in a rape. Apparently, women are so incredibly powerful that we can induce men to act like psycho lunatics with the smallest flash of skin. Personally, I think we ought to work on these special abilities so that we can get some sort of a useful result. But I doubt my phrasing would find agreement with the average follower of Islam.

Intellectually, I saw the flawed thinking. I recognized the blunt attempt to control and cow women. But my emotions were stirred up. It was a direct threat of violence and violation. So I stewed for a while. In one way this is far away and abstract. No one is trying to change the laws around me and no one is directly threatening me. But, misogyny is real, and while it is deeply embedded in Islam, they don’t have an exclusive on it.

I’m sometimes fascinated by the casualness of how some men can suggest rape as a control. They seem unbothered by this gross exploitation of women’s sexual vulnerability. Could you imagine a similar campaign against men? ‘Cover yourself from head to toe, only your eyes can be seen (and that’s only because we’re tired of having you bump into things). If you don’t, we’ll cut it off.’

I think men’s physical vulnerability should give them a bit more mindfulness towards women. But in some men, it causes fear. And fear seems to breed violence.

Substitutions

2008-06-20T00:59:00.000-04:00

“I can’t get it out of my head,” my son wails. He is in bed, the lights are out, story time is over, his songs are playing and he is melting down. “It’s too scary and I can’t stop thinking about it!”
This time it’s about a boy who uses a time machine to meet his sixty-one year-old-self and thus seemed to get old all of a sudden, which is the scary part. Note, ‘this time.’
He insists that sleep is impossible and that I have to stay with him, growing more and more upset. I intervene with the usual, “Honey, honey. Relax.” To me it represents a combination of ‘I care about you’ with ‘I want this to stop now’. “Listen, if I say ‘Don’t think about oranges’ then the image that comes to mind is of oranges.” My son looks at me as if I’m crazy, maybe I am. But I carry on, embellishing. “Really, don’t think about the lively color of oranges, don’t remember the fresh citrus scent of oranges, don’t imagine the juicy burst in your mouth when you eat oranges.” I am definitely in an orange zone, now both of us crave them. “In order to stop thinking about oranges, we have to think about something else, like apples, or going swimming.”
He laughs at my story and how silly it is becoming and I shift gears to the idea that in order to get away from one thought you have to substitute a new one. This brings a whole new round of “but I can’t stop thinking about it!”
I choose not to mention that he was just laughing and that he had stopped thinking about it for a moment or two. Instead we talk about what would be a good thing for him to think about from his list of interests.
I walk away from my son’s room and I’ve convinced him to at least be quiet, even if he’s sure this won’t work. He inherited the tendency to fixate on things from me, so I know what he’s dealing with. I regularly think about pleasant things so the news shows don’t prevent me from sleeping (they are the scariest things I see on TV). As I’ve gotten older, I use much more subtle substitutions with the hope of improving my character. But my most recent personal pet peeve has hit a snag, and thinking about oranges or apples isn’t helping.
Lately, I’ve been feeling quite self-conscious. I often have a child with me-- I know what to do with and for the child, I feel comfortable. I understand how to use most situations to help the child’s development and how to manage the kinds of social interactions generated by cute kids. But I feel conspicuous when it’s just me. What do I substitute for self-consciousness? Other-consciousness? Obviously, when I’m conscious of a child in my care, I’m fine. When I’m alone, though, other-consciousness makes me more aware of the other people who I already feel self-conscious around. So that isn’t working.
As I remember those moments, I have the nervous feeling of others watching me and I’m trying to understand what they are seeing and what it might mean to them. ‘And I can’t stop thinking about it!’ So I tell myself to relax, and I try to figure out what I can focus on instead. I’m not sure, but perhaps the key is here. In those moments, I feel observed and I start observing myself (yes, it does require a strange sort of flexibility) rather that focusing on what I’m doing. Maybe if I choose not to be so flexible and simply focus on the task at hand, I won’t notice. I don’t know. But I’ve convinced myself to be quiet, even if I’m not sure this will work.

stories

2008-06-17T15:20:00.000-04:00

From the royal fortress meadow, they spring

Some linger in the dappled sunlight where the trees meet the wild grasses
Others move fluidly from the mist of the waterfall, cool and unformed
Some twirl and fall down panting among the dandelions and phlox
While others steal into the trees for unseen kisses and caresses
A few salute the gate, returning home to glory
Or enter quietly to browse esoteric scrolls

All of them looking for sustenance, for substance
Offspring of the King’s breath

As it whisks along my tangled landscape