Critical thinking or just hitting 'like'?

I was unfriended recently because, I'm pretty sure, I wrote a comment on a  friend's Facebook timeline that respectfully challenged the source of a political story. I was very careful not to be inflammatory or tromp heavily on that person's cherished convictions.

My reason for even commenting was because I thought the post/link, about election fraud, sounded a little too much like propaganda rather than being factually based. When I investigated the organization that issued the 'study,' and read comments, and followed links, it began to look like one either backed by the Trump people or the Bernie people to discredit Hillary and the Democratic National Committee. While it purported to be a non-partisan organization run by a group of non-partisan lawyers, journalists, analysts, etc., there were no names attached to it at all on their website, and the DNC and Hillary appeared to be the only ones investigated and targeted -- nothing at all about the Republican election and voter registration fraud that has been widely publicized in the last decade or so.

My comment pretty much said that. I questioned the assertion that it was a 'non-partisan' organization.

Clearly it was not welcome. And equally clearly, I was no longer welcome in that person's life.

I thought about it all day and why it upset me, other than losing a friendship that while not a close one was a pleasant one with someone I thought highly of.

And I figured it out: it is the lack of evidence of any critical thinking -- and it doesn't just extend to this particular post and 'study,' but to all such social media posts that claim a candidate or organization did/said/stole/lied in some very authoritative and absolutist language with very little supporting evidence cited when you actually read the story. Often the 'study' is reported by a site that is widely known to have a left or right or special interest bias.

I'd venture to say that many -- if not most -- Facebook users hit "Like" or "Share" based on the incendiary headline without even READING the whole article!

How many actually research it and look for sources, reputable sources, with a truly non-partisan point of view, sources which actually strive to present both sides of the story instead of wildly slanting whatever thin strands of 'evidence' might be there? Anyone? Even a little bit?

Well, I do. I was raised to think, to ask questions (conversations around our dinner table were often quite lively). As a journalist, I was trained to provide both points of view in a story, or else label the story as editorial, not as news. As an English major, I was expected to learn critical literary analysis. As a liberal arts major, I was required to sample different philosophies and disciplines, and taught how to examine them and draw my own conclusions based on evidence provided.

Is that even taught in our schools anymore?  Are we giving our children data and expecting nothing more out of them than to regurgitate it on tests? Do we have discussions about politics or religion or social issues within our groups of family and friends without rancorous judgment and angry disagreement? Does anyone remember how to disagree respectfully?

I think not, at least based on what I am reading and seeing on social media and in the news and newspapers.

And yes, I do watch the news, I do read newspapers and blogs and magazines. I have heard many of those who post on Facebook claim that they 'never' watch the news -- too biased -- but rely instead on Facebook groups to get the 'real' story.

Hello? 

These groups are not unbiased. They present a particular point of view. If you don't balance it out by also reading groups who present a different viewpoint, you are not getting 'the real story.'

No one likes having a dearly held belief challenged, political or religious or social. But if you respond by refusing to consider any other evidence, if you continue to wear blinders and steadfastly forge ahead without considering what else may be waiting just outside your narrow tunnel vision, you risk losing much, much more.

 I'm sorry that I lost a friend over politics. I'm sorry that this person didn't value our relationship enough to just block my posts but keep me as a friend -- as I have done over the last two elections with some of my friends and relatives.

But I am not sorry for speaking up -- although I pretty much have decided that for this election, I am simply going to vote my convictions rather than ballyhoo them on Facebook, hard as it may be. You may hold me accountable to that.

April Moon, Day 1

"That's when I knew that this chapter of my life had ended. And now I was free to.."

That's the first writing prompt for the marvelous 2015 April Moon series from wild wonderful writing woman Kat McNally, she of Reverb and August Moon.

It's a little different this year, she explains. It's a story-starter, really. I'm a bit late in beginning this one, but it'll work no matter when I begin or end!

While I can think of several chapter endings, at least a few of them are not appropriate for a public forum such as this (although they're great stories). But let me tell you about the end of my freelance career....

It was January 2010 and we'd been to see one of the traveling Broadway-style shows that Redding regularly featured at their Civic Center -- "The Wedding Singer." Actually, we hadn't subscribed to the series for a few years since Tony was working in Chico at that time, and the plays were always on week nights, which made for a very long day of driving for him. These were gifted to us by friends who couldn't go.

After the performance, we headed, hand-in-hand, back to the truck in the parking lot. It was dark and the lot was dimly lit. As we got to the back of the truck, we parted -- Tony to the driver's side, me to the passenger's. There was not a light near the truck, so I was walking mostly in the dark. I came past the tailgate and headed down the side of the truck.

"AHHHHHHHHH," I yelled as my toe struck the concrete parking curb stop which was partially hidden under the truck bed. There was nothing to grab. I flew sideways and landed on my outstretched right hand, then my hip and body followed.

I crashed onto the blacktop and just lay there for a minute. A couple of people from nearby cars came hurrying up to help; Tony came around the end of the truck, and they tried to help me sit up.

I knew my wrist was broken. It was in an unnatural s-curve, although it didn't hurt. "It's broken," I said, holding it close to my chest. "Maybe not," said Tony, as he helped me stand, along with two other men, and then together they boosted me into the truck since there was no way I could grab onto the strap to pull myself in.

I thanked the others and we headed for the Mercy Hospital ER. I had the presence of mind to take off my rings since my hand hadn't begun to swell yet, and also directed Tony to the hospital.

They took me back immediately and it wasn't long before they shot me up with painkillers and an anti-nausea drug. X-rays showed several pieces of shattered bone. Long story short: It was splinted that night; a week later I had surgery and the wonderful orthopedist put it back together with many screws and a plate.

But even that night I knew I wasn't going to be writing stories anytime soon. It was my right hand. My note-taking hand. And there's no way I'm typing stories with just my left hand.It hurt, and I had no idea how long I'd be in a cast. Certainly I wasn't going to meet deadlines any time soon.

It was over, those freelance gigs. And I wasn't too upset about it, actually. I loved the interviewing, the getting to meet new people and find out their stories and how they got to where they are. But the deadlines? Meh. The stress of trying to tell their story accurately and yet still making it enticing in a mere 500-700 words? Very hard. I would sweat blood over the story and always ended up paring it down, hopefully not losing the essence as I chopped words. I would not miss that part.

The next day I called my editor to tell her I was out, but that I had a replacement in mind, a local friend who had no freelance experience but whose writing was clean, interesting, and sharp. They both agreed -- and my friend Melissa is still writing for them, five years later.

 I was ready to be done, apparently, and the Universe took a rather drastic way of letting me know that. I needed to get out of the way to allow Melissa her opportunity.

While I know I could have resumed freelancing once I'd healed, it never felt right again. 

Reverb 14, Day 5

1. What is the sound of your own voice?

2. Letting go: For next year, I’m letting go of…

1. In browsing through a few other blogs, I see that some have interpreted this prompt very literally, as in 'what do you sound like'? I have a good speaking voice -- clear, moderately pitched, from the diaphragm rather than the throat, and I enunciate well -- all those speech classes, I suppose, and the acting. I can project -- or used to be able to -- to the back of a sizeable room -- unfortunately, it also took a long time to learn how NOT to project and to lower the volume when I was talking in a group or to a friend. 

But I think this prompt asks us more to listen to who we are, the authentic person within. When we speak, who is talking? The good daughter or wife or mother who does what she is expected to do, but not necessarily what she wants to do?  The employee who is careful not to express opinions too different from those of her peers (even though she has some strong opinions that may differ wildly from those of others)? The friend who is aware that she is perhaps being taken advantage of, but doesn't want to cause the friendship to crash and burn -- for a lot of reasons?  The volunteer who is burned out because nobody else seems to step up to the plate? 

Each has its own voice, but when we utter the words, we learn a little more about who we want to be in addition to who we are. 

As I have aged, all those other voices have melded -- or are melding -- into one voice: who I really am and what I really think. Mostly. What I have learned is to keep my counsel a little more carefully, too. I still don't want to offend, but I have learned that saying nothing is often the most powerful statement. I have learned that those who are truly my friends will hear me loud and clear, and that I have nothing to fear by allowing them to do so -- in fact, it deepens and ripens a friendship. I no longer have to please an employer. And I pretty much do as I like, with little regard for what anyone expects me to do! 

Speak your truth. Be who you are. Be kind, but be honest. That is the sound of your own voice.

2. Let it go, let it gooooooo....
Like most everyone else, I loved and related to Elsa's song in "Frozen" and have actively worked on letting stuff go for decades now, long before the song was a note in someone's brain. 

And for decades I have worked to let go of the self-criticism, the judgement I heap on myself, and the people-pleaser part of me that worries about whether I'm  fitting in or saying the right things or doing the right things so that others will judge me favorably. Yeah.Yuk.

I've come a really long way with that. I probably will never be there completely, but I care a whole lot less about it than I used to, and I'm way more gentle with myself. This year I have actively started to work on the almost subconscious judgement towards others: the part that says "doesn't that woman look in a mirror before she goes out like that?" Or "look at those filthy pants, and down around his knees! Yuk! I can see his boxers!" Or "those kids are totally out of control and there is no one in sight -- who DOES that!" Or "geeze, that tattoo is so offensive! Why would someone do that?"

And so on. It is so ingrained in me -- and I suspect in most of us -- that I have to consciously stop the train of thought, and I have started to say a little prayer for the person as soon as I notice the judgement. I don't know what their lives are like. I don't know what kind of parents they had or why they do what they do. 

Most importantly, it is NOT MY LIFE TO MANAGE. 

So I'll continue letting such judgement go in 2015 -- the judgement that looks in the mirror with unkind eyes, and the judgement that looks at others with unkind eyes.

 

Reverb 13: Day 30. Relationship management....

The prompt:

Relationships | Did you find a new best friend?  Delve deeper into a relationship?  Break up?  Get back together?  Tell us about who you added - or subtracted - from your life.  Why?

I think the word for relationships this year was DEEPEN.  

I am blessed with some wonderful women friends who are supportive and loving and loyal, and I felt that our relationships continued this year to grow in depth and feeling.  

I learned that there are some kind, caring people around me, not necessarily close friends, but I was touched by their help and concern for me in more than one situation. I intend to pay that forward.

A few others went to a back burner, although I don't doubt that there is still a strong support and connection, but life circumstances for all of us reduced our contact with each other.  

And there were a few beginnings of new friendships that I hope will grow in 2014. 

I did give myself permission to walk away from any situation or person who causes my gut to feel tense or uncertain, or when my spidey-sense tells me to leave it. I used that several times, and noted how I felt when I knew I would see a person or be in a situation that has not gone well in the past. If I felt anxious, I left it. Good for me.

The Scintilla Project - Day 6

Prompts today -- er -- Tuesday. (I'm behind.) I'm going with #1, more or less.

1. Write the letter to the bully, to the cheater, to the aggressor that you always wanted to but couldn't quite. Now tell them why they can't affect you anymore.

2. Talk about an experience with faith, your own or someone else's.

***********

To someone I used to know, a long, long time ago in another place, another time, another life:
 
You were my friend.
At least that's what you told me, many times. We spent time together, enjoyed wonderful meals and playing games and watching television and talking, talking. We shared very personal, deep stories and cried together, and you told me you felt like we had a special bond, that we were so alike in many ways. It felt very precious to me, our friendship, and I loved being your friend.

Oh, I knew I wasn't your BFF, and that's okay, because you weren't mine either, but we told each other about those women in our lives, those strong, funny, wonderful women who meant so much to us and with whom we'd shared so many experiences over the years. "You'd love her," we both said. We swapped recipes and told stories about our mothers and our feelings and we laughed, too, a lot.

When some of our friends had a falling out and everybody was all gossipy and snippy and taking sides, you said, "We're not in junior high anymore! Get over it."  And I did. I thought you did too.
 
And then it was over, boom. Like one of us died, or moved suddenly and left no forwarding address. Except that we'd meet occasionally at events or in a store, and sometimes (but not always) exchange empty pleasantries, you smiling with your mouth but never again with your eyes. That stopped too, those occasional meetings, partly because when I would see you in a store or on the street or at an event, I began to go the other way to avoid you. Perhaps you did the same.

I didn't know what happened. And I grieved a long time, wracking my brain to think of what I might have said or done that caused such an abrupt break, painfully going over conversations and events again and again.

 It is in my deepest people-pleasing nature to blame myself for such things, for someone deciding to 'break up' with me. I wanted to get over it, I really, really did, and I tried hard to let it go, to think kindly of you and hope that you were all right. But such hurt and rejection don't leave easily or swiftly.

Friendships often are seasonal -- linked to a particular time and place and life situation (like when your kids are little and you're sharing soccer bleachers or Girl Scout troop duties) -- and when the need/situation is no longer there, the connection drifts away, hopefully leaving some pleasant memories.

You chopped our friendship off at the very root of it; there was no withering, no easy drifting away. Time and perspective help heal pain and grief, allow unhealthy memories to fade, and to accept that people and situations change, our needs change. I still wonder what happened, but that's because I am a storyteller and I always want to know all the details, to know the 'rest of the story.'

I used to think the loss was mine, and my fault. But you: you threw away an exceedingly loyal, loving friend in choosing to reject our friendship. I finally understood that the biggest loss was yours.

Reverb11 - Day 23 - Who I'm missing and Travels

#1 Prompt: Who did you miss?

#2 Prompt: Travel - Did you visit anywhere new this year?  Any plans to travel next year?


#1 -- Who did I miss? My parents, often, and never more than at Christmas time when my memories of Christmases past are so wrapped up in their presence. When I first married, we invited our parents and my brother (my ex was an only child) to come to us for Christmas, and they did for years, modifying that first when my in-laws divorced (after nearly 50 years) and he remarried, and then when my mother-in-law could no longer travel, and finally when my dad died and we went to Missouri every year to be with my mother until 2005 when she died.


That's a lot of years and memories: of putting together the Christmas jigsaw puzzle, usually primarily by my dad, with help here and there from all of us; of playing games -- Trivial Pursuit or Monopoly or Michigan Rummy or Screw your Neighbor -- eating nuts and candy and laughing. Going to church on Christmas Eve, and especially the year that my dad, brother, and husband all slipped in to the late service at the last moment on a very cold Indiana night -- I was already there in the choir loft and we'd all gone to an earlier, child-friendly service. The three of them lifted slightly whiskey-scented voices to the holy candle-lit atmosphere, and none of us could stop smiling.


I miss my friend Julia, again never more than at Christmas. For nine years we sang together at Christmas and other times, we laughed and cried and shopped and worked and shared stories and children. We are growing old together, although we see each other only every few years for maybe a week. I've no doubt that we'll sing again in that great celestial chorus, her short, round, red-haired frame next to my much taller and longer one, smiling all the way, even through our tears.


I miss my daughter, the person she was before illness and other things so clouded and distorted her mind. I still see flashes of that person, but it makes me sad to see such potential and intelligence and charm largely gone, and I am still trying to wrap my arms around who she is now, and who I am when I'm with her.

Always at special times of the year I miss my brother and sister-in-law, who I would like to know better as we grow older and hopefully wiser, and who become increasingly important as I age. And we miss our daughter and grandson, miss being able to know who they are becoming, and especially Gabe as he changes so much as he grows from a toddler into a pre-schooler.

I'm grateful that there are so many people that I miss, though, because it indicates that I am capable of great love, and also that I am the recipient of great love in return. It just doesn't get better than that.

#2 -- Travel is something that is on our minds for this coming year as Tony retires and our time is not bound by paid time off accrual. While I don't know that we'll do any long-distance trips in 2012, we are planning time in the LA area for a cousin's wedding, and also anticipate a trip to Seattle to see our daughter and her family.
Both trips also put us by our beloved ocean, where we've spent our vacations nearly every year since we've been together. Perhaps we'll make a trip further into the interior US to see my brother and other friends, but we'll see how time and money play out. For now, Tony is happy to think about staying home and working on projects that have piled up and that he is eager to begin. And I'm happy to have him here.

Reverb11 - Day 20 - Gatherings and Friends

#1 Prompt: Gathering:  What was your favorite party or gathering (large or small) in 2011?  Who would you like to gather with in 2012?

#2 Prompt: Friendship - What kind of a friend were you in 2011? What kind of a friend do you want to be in 2012?

#1 -- There are a couple of gatherings that always feel extra special: anytime my Redding friend L and I get together for lunch or tea or chocolate and just to enjoy talking with each other, and when we go to brunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Los Mariachis, with our long-time friends, neighbors and mentors, T&G. (There were many others, all good fun and pleasant, especially doing lunch at Tremont and just hanging together with another friend, L.)

The best large gathering was the Red Bluff Murder Mystery Dinner Theater, even though I was part of the cast. It was such a party for our guests, from the old cars and picket lines outside the Elks Club to the speakeasy atmosphere inside, and then to the dinner and show.  There was good food, plenty of wine, and if the plot was a little thin, the comedy bits made up for it. 

In 2012, I'd like to expand our circle of friends and the opportunity to learn more about them in a relaxed setting, and to spend more time with some current friends too, also in a fun setting. That's going to mean we need to be more proactive about seeking such contact, and get over my need to have everything so 'perfect' when I have people here. I can do that!

#2 -- Well, this sort of ties into the above prompt, doesn't it!  Yeah. That need to have everything just so in order to entertain people here is something I need to dump. If someone is judging my housekeeping or cooking skills, then do I really want them around anyway? 

I deepened a couple of friendships this year, and  let another couple go into the past tense (mostly). In 2012 I'd like to continue those friendships and invite some new ones into my life too, and that means making an effort to be with them. 

Over the past two years of doing Reverb, I have become more aware that I simply do not want to be around people -- even some friends -- who make me feel like I need to keep my mouth shut when I'm with them, and not to discuss certain topics lest they cause a heated conversation that will result in hurt feelings. I'm very willing to expand my knowledge and keep an open mind in discussion, but I don't want to be around abrasive people who ARE *RIGHT*, dammit. I'm going to work on letting those go, or at the least, reducing my contact.

Reverb 11 -- Day 11

#1 Prompt: People: Who surprised you?

#2 Prompt:  What do you wish you had done more of in 2011?

#1 -- I really can't think of just one person who surprised me this year, but I have been surprised and humbled by several people. Compliments are hard for me to accept, I guess, and I am always surprised when I'm told how much I mean to someone, or how I've helped them, or how 'wise' someone thinks I am. I am so grateful for the friends that I have, and those whose actions I so admire and aspire to, so when someone tells me that I am a good friend to them, or I have offered advice that helps them, I sort of look around to see who it is they are talking to! 

And I guess that says more about how I regard myself than anything else. Maybe I need to work on that, hm?

#2 -- I wish I had played more, done more things that were just plain fun to do and worried about people and situations less. I wish I had done more writing in this blog, and also in planning what my book is going to be. I wish I had worked more outside in my garden and on landscaping for the yard. I wish I had done more theater. I get another chance in 2012.

Reverb 10 -- Friends and learning lessons

For Dec. 16 -- Friendship. How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst?

I spent a lot of time thinking about friendship this year, and also have been blessed to spend time with many friends.

One dear woman who I've known since 1982, through our divorces, through our children's trials and growing pains, through grandchildren, through cancer and surgeries, lives some 2000 miles away; yet when we do see each other every three or so years, it's always like we were never apart.

Despite fighting two different cancers over the last two years, her outlook is positive, grateful, and very down-to-earth. She inspires me to see the glass as half-full, and to just move through whatever comes along.

My husband is also my best friend, and there is nothing I cannot talk to him about. I am so grateful for that bond and the love which wraps us up daily. There is nowhere I'd rather be than with him, no matter where that takes us. He helps me to be grounded in what is real and now, and calms me if I get 'wrapped around the axle' about something. I adore him...

I've learned -- again -- that there are seasons for friendships, and that sometimes you 'outgrow' people who were important in your life at one time. Or they outgrow you. It is hard for me to let go of a friendship, even one that has clearly cooled. This year I've spent far too much time trying to accept that, questioning myself (as I tend to do) for a possible cause. The simple fact is that sometimes people move onto other things -- I've done it too -- and it isn't anyone's fault but simply is time to bless it and let the relationship drift.


For Dec. 17 -- Lesson learned. What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward?

I believe that I have finally learned patience and that all things will change, given time. That lesson has been given to me over and over and over for years. But this year brought healing the broken bones in my wrist, listening to what my gut is telling me to do, accepting changing friendships, and moving through a long and tedious process to help Princess #1 with her illness and disability claim. I did it without having a nervous breakdown, going on medication, crying every day, or wishing my life away by saying ...'when this happens, then I will be happy-glad-okay-.' That is progress. I hope I can keep that outlook.

Reverb 10 -- Party hearty? Not much...

Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

The idea of a social gathering rocking my socks off is cause for some amusement. Although I did a good bit of hearty-partying when I was , oh, some 30 or more years younger, I've not seen that kind of action recently -- either as observer or participant, actually. I'm not fond of watching people get plastered, and it's been years since I woke up with any kind of hangover or that awful feeling of 'what did I do last night?'

No, the parties I attended this year were mostly transition parties: a retirement party, a couple of parties marking big 'decade' birthdays, a high school graduation. While I knew the honorees, of course, there were many others I did not know, but who I enjoyed talking to. Sat with some good friends at a couple of them and that's always enjoyable.

Food was generally yummy -- tri tip, barbecue, lots of sides and salads and cakes (what's there not to like about cake?), although I don't remember anything specific, really. And no shenanigans that I knew about.

A smaller one was a reunion of the cast of 2009's Steel Magnolias, still with great food, but I do love those women. They are strong, talented, outspoken, honest and open, and we had a great time laughing and talking. I'd do any play with any one of them in a heartbeat.

And every month at Bunco is a party with another group of fun women playing a stupid game and getting such a kick out of it -- I mean, who knew counting out loud could be so stress-relieving and such a fun time?

But I think that just a simple lunch out with a friend can be a party all by itself: I don't think you need invitations or fancy food or music or activities to count it as a party. My party time is when I'm with people who are interesting and witty, people who help me learn something about myself or show me more about who they are. I treasure each lunch, each event that I choose to attend as much as the 'big' parties, if not more, because the real party is within each of us and in how we learn more about each other.

Five on Friday

Before I leave town for a week with my BFF Julie in Indianapolis, I want to do the 'Friday Five' -- starting out this new month with something written, this 10th month of the year, this countdown to the end of the year. (Today is also my cousin Joy's 60th birthday -- which means that my little brother's 60th birthday is next Friday. Welcome to a new decade!)

What was the last thing you dropped on the kitchen floor?
That would be a piece of mushroom as I was chopping it to go in this morning's omelet. I picked it up and yes, I threw it in the compost pot. If it had been chocolate, I would have invoked the 'if I saw it fall it's fine' rule and eaten it.

What cough drops do you like, and do they work very well?
I don't like cough drops because that means if I'm using them, I probably have a cold that has gone into my chest. Yuk. I prefer to ward off a cold with Wellness Formula first, if I'm feeling tickly-in-the-throat, or, if it does erupt into that stuffy sort-of-sick feeling that indicates something is going on, I start on Cold FX. Both of those remedies usually ward off a full-blown cold. And that said, if I MUST use a cough drop, I like Fisherman's Friend because they sort of explode their menthol-y taste into my (stuffy) nose and down my (scratchy) throat. Do they work? Eh. They help in that they generate saliva to combat the dryness and menthol to help the stuffies. Don't know that any of them work all that well.


Who was the last person you dropped off somewhere?
Probably Princess #1. When we need to do errands in town, I usually pick her up and I drive.

When were you ever dropped like a bad habit?
Friendships take on many roles during our lives. There is an e-mail that has made the rounds -- I believe I've written about it previously -- about 'reason-season-lifetime' friendships. It's not usually until you look back at the friendship that you can identify the kind that it is/was.

I've had 'reason' friendships that I recognized as such pretty quickly -- especially those who were in my life as teachers to learn something I needed to know -- or to teach them something -- at that time in my life. I still wonder about some of those people (I like to know the whole story!), but they are no longer active participants in my life. I am grateful for what I learned, for the experience of knowing them, for the part I played in their lives and them in mine.

The 'season' friendships can also be a learning experience, a time to grow, to laugh, to play, to cherish the moments that are there. Sometimes these can grow into 'lifetime' friendships, but that takes time and track.

I've been part of social groups in the past that were close, had a great time together, shared some experiences, and then just drifted apart for no discernible reason -- the people involved found new interests, had additional responsibilities, were not available to get together because of family or travel or ... whatever.

That's been the source of some hurt feelings in the past, too, because I always tend to blame myself when a friendship drifts into an acquaintance state (what did I say to cause this? what did I do? can I make it better? yikes!), and I have to re-learn the lesson that I am not responsible for other people's actions or feelings, and accept that I probably had nothing to do with the reasons the friendship has waned, and that a friendship requires both sides to engage and nurture it if it is to continue or grow. If just one person wants it, it ain't gonna happen no matter what you say or do. And that hurts, at least for a while.

The 'lifetime' friends are the ones who are there no matter what, and if you have more than one of these, you are indeed lucky. I'm going to see Julie, my lifetime friend, although we haven't been together for four years. But we both have nurtured the relationship through letters, e-mails, and phone calls for around 28 years now, despite divorces, surgeries, illnesses, and traumatic and horrifying revelations. We have a bond that has lasted through the whole mess and will until the end of our lives, I believe.

What are your favorite kind of raindrops?
I like ANY kind of raindrops in this neck of the woods where we get rain only from November-April most years. I miss the daily thunderstorms and warm rains of the Deep South, the smell of rain that cleanses and refreshes everything, the almost iridescent green glow of the leaves and grasses when the sun comes back out. In northern California, we get the rain smell, sorta, but it is the smell of the dirt sucking it in like a dying man in the desert finding an oasis. Thunderstorms are a bit scary because of the extreme fire danger during the late spring and fall, until the rains begin again and the earth comes back to life. I love the lazy rain, the one that soaks in and caresses each brown blade of grass, nurtures and coaxes it back to green. I'm looking forward to what I hope will be another wet, cold winter here. (The kitty forecast says it will be: our outside boys are fattening up and their fur coats are thick and heavy already.)

It is a new beginning again, this day, another month, one that will see us transition between the hot days of summer into the cool, wetter fall. I love October.

Tending the internal garden too

Another 'hump day' although I no longer am tied to a Monday-Friday schedule with two days of frantic catching up on Saturday and Sunday.

What it does mean is that the weekend is approaching and that means time for my honey to rest and rejuvenate -- always seeming to be a day short, of course.

This weekend that likely will mean climbing on the tractor and mowing down the tall grasses on the property, at least much of it. We handmow the stuff closer to the house since we have learned from expensive experience that the tractor throws rocks and breaks windows and tears screens. While handmowing and judicious weed-eating reduce the chances of a stray missile, it doesn't guarantee it.

My garden still remains untilled and unplanted -- nearly the latest I've been, I think, in this climate. I'll get in some tomatoes and squash and chard, but there may not be much else. I've got lettuce in pots on the back patio. Frankly, it's been a bit cool for tomatoes -- we had a fire in the woodstove on Monday, all day.

I'm just not very motivated to get out there, although it nags at me. I need to take care of the internal garden first, I think, and the rest will follow.

I've been thinking a lot about words and friendships and expectations and disappointments. This week I've heard from two long-time friends: one relationship dating back to the early 1980s which has survived two long distance moves, two divorces, various health issues, and some icky stuff involving her ex-spouse and his penchant for molesting youngsters (including ours). We try to see each other face to face every three or four years for about a week, and it's always as though we were never apart. We e-mail frequently and call less frequently. But she's got my back, always, and I have hers.

The other grew out of a job relationship from the mid-'90s and has grown in spite of divorces, remarriages, long distances between us, and an age difference of some 23 years. I don't know as much about her day-to-day life as she does mine, but there is a bond between us that I believe will always be there. We've visited in person only a few times since I left the South nearly 13 years ago. But I trust her completely and I believe she trusts me as well. We have a comfortable friendship that I treasure.

I am a very loyal friend, and I go into a friendship with the idea that it will be a long-term one, although I have only a few close friends and many acquaintances. I am honest -- actually, I don't play mind games very well at all and never did, much to my detriment in corporate life -- and sometimes more blunt than I intend to be. I try to be kind and thoughtful but don't know that I always succeed -- I get distracted sometimes, and unintentionally wound, I think.

When I think that a friend is unhappy with me, I want to know why: I want to clear the air, or at worst, at least put some closure to it if there are no amends that can be made. I always, ALWAYS, blame myself: that is the unfortunate people-pleasing part of my personality, a part of which I am aware and work on. It is hard to please people when you also usually say what you think, although I don't think I am unkind, or not intentionally so at least. And I've learned to hold my tongue much better over the years. Not everything requires my unfettered opinion!!

Lately I've picked up vibes from some friends that all is not well, and rack my brain as I may, I cannot think why. No one is saying anything, but I'm not often included in activities, and there seems to be a coolness towards me.

It could be just me -- I have certainly been a little down lately -- but I don't think so. I'm fairly perceptive usually, and it has felt for some time like something ain't quite right. It nags at me, though, I'll confess...

And then there is a big part of me -- the one that is slowly, finally, coming into full acceptance of who I am, warts and all -- that is done with that kind of behavior. Life is just too short to spend time worrying about whether or not you've done something to offend a 'friend' (especially when you're pretty sure you haven't), and it is too short to tiptoe around and feel stressed when you're supposed to be enjoying the relationship. It takes two to make a friendship, and if one of them isn't interested, it's not a friendship any more.

I am 62 years old. It's time for my long people-pleasing behaviors to be over. I mostly like who I am, and the parts I don't like I'm working on and tossing them out or changing them. That is going to have to be enough -- and if it isn't, then I'll continue to cherish the friends I do have, near and far.

A week ago or so on Faceboook, many people were re-posting the following: A true friend doesn't care if you're broke, if your house is a mess, about your past, or if your family is filled with crazies...they love you for who you are. A true friend can go long periods of time without speaking and never question the friendship. REPOST if you are blessed enough to have at least one true friend. They will know who they are.

Thank you, my dear friends. I am blessed to have you.

Live today: tomorrow is not promised

One of my oldest and dearest friends has cancer. While I have every reason to believe she will get better -- and she believes it too -- it is scary.

She actually had it last year too in a cancerous colon polyp, but didn't have to endure chemo or radiation. It was an amazingly easy and swift recovery, and none of us really worried much because it was so contained.

But she has stage IIIa uterine cancer that spread to an ovary, although not any lymph nodes (blessings!), and we are waiting to hear about a teensy spot on her lung that was biopsied yesterday. Surgery is done and she'll do chemo, radiation, then more chemo, and tells me she expects to lose her hair.

She's more than 2,000 miles away from me, and I want to make it better. I want to give her hugs, to take her to the doctor, to fix food for her, to laugh at silly things with her, to visit the apple orchard we used to go to when I lived there, to enjoy the leaves that are turning.

Unlike me, who researches a subject until I know as much as I can possibly learn, she is okay with knowing enough about what to expect, but not too much. She is positive and while she says that she really doesn't want to play this game, she'll do whatever she's told to do in order to get it gone. And she will, too.

I'll go visit her when she needs me to come, whether that is sooner or later. She'll know. So will I.

Meanwhile, she has marvelous friends there who are taking care of her, and children who do too. She is well loved, and I tell her that's because she is such a good friend back to them. When we lived in the same town some 20 plus years ago, I went through a really rough patch and pretty much shut down emotionally, doing what I needed to do -- take care of my daughter, go to work, make sure things were running smoothly -- but I couldn't take anyone expressing sympathy or caring and would dissolve into puddles, so I just didn't listen to that, wouldn't hear it. I didn't go to choir, to church, or anywhere I might be with people who cared about me.

She wouldn't let me isolate. She literally banged on my front door until I opened it and let her in, and dissolved more than once into sobs on her shoulders. And she protected me from making a public display of my emotions too -- she stayed close by when we were with others who knew I was having a hard time, and kept things light.

She has gone through some of her own dark nights too, and I was there for her, although by then I lived that 2000 miles away, but I sent cards and letters, and she couldn't respond back for several years because it was too painful. And when we reconnected, when she finally wrote me all about it, it was like no time had passed.

It's like that when we see each other. We grow older, we grow wiser, we experience things (and tell each other about them), via e-mail and phone calls, but when we're together for our brief, every-few-years visits, it's like we saw each other only yesterday. I am so grateful for her long years of friendship and love.

She forwarded me an e-mail yesterday. I've done a bit of editing, but it says the same things I've so often said in these posts -- life is short. Life is uncertain. Tell people you love them NOW. Read on:

One day a woman's husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't “anymore.” No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute." Sometimes what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say good-bye, say "I love you."

So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick. This is true for marriage.....And old cars.... And children with bad report cards, and dogs with bad hips, and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

So I was thinking...I could die today, tomorrow or next week, and I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed, friendships that needed rekindling or three words needing to be said.

Let every one of your friends know you love them. Even if you think they don't love you back, you would be amazed at what those three little words and a smile can do.And just in case I'm gone tomorrow, I love you. Live today because tomorrow is not promised.

What we do comes back

A friend sent me the e-mail about the teacher who has her students write something good about each student in the class -- you've probably received it.

If you haven't seen it, the story -- the TRUE story -- is here.

The takeaway is the message that the Universe seems to be sending me a lot lately: life is short and you never know when your time may be up, so tell people you love them now, today.

And I think the sub-message is that we need to spend our time doing things that we want to have in our lives, with people we want to be with and care about.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about the nature of friendship. She was going through a stressful situation and had asked for support from a group of friends, and I offered to do whatever she needed -- be with her, speak in her support, whatever. And I did. (She did not ask for money, mind you, or shelter, or tangibles...it wasn't that kind of "support.")

She'd asked another 'friend' with whom she'd done many activities for some years, and the person refused, saying that was not the kind of friendship they had.

So I thought about the nature of friendship and the kind of friend that I try to be, and the people to whom I look for friendship and support.

I'd be very surprised if I asked any of my close friends to do something and they refused because "that was not the kind of friendship" we have.

And that person would not really be my friend any longer. The trust you bring into a relationship would have been shattered.

Of course we all have some friends to whom we are closer than others -- the "BBF"s, if we're lucky enough to have one or more. They are the ones who WOULD give you shelter or money or whatever you needed, as you would for them... the ones who will always be there for you, no matter what....the ones who will give you a swift kick in the butt if you need it, and then be there to give you a big hug when you wake up!

If I am your friend, I stay that way until we've both outgrown the friendship (and even then I tend to hang on to friendships probably too long) or something happens to break the trust we share, if that even happens.

That doesn't mean that everyone I meet is my best friend and that I would do anything for any of them: I have many acquaintances, many who are 'friends,' but not friends who know my secrets and share good times and bad. And I have those, too. They're the ones who I can cry with, who listen and don't judge, who offer advice sometimes, who won't let me isolate inside my deep dark holes, but come and find me and drag me out. I am grateful for that handful of people every single day, and I try to tell them often.

What we give comes back to us. Who we are shows in what kind of people we care about. What we do has a ripple effect: it may seem small and confined in the beginning, but it can reach places we never realized it might, for far longer than we could ever guess.

Playing catch-up

Damage to the garden was not disastrous as I'd first thought. Most of the plants are coming back, and the deer nicely thinned the seedlings. I should have lettuce by the end of the week, although with the hot weather we're having now it may bolt before I ever get it to the table.

So we planted tomatoes, zucchini, peppers, and are experimenting with cantaloupe, watermelon and pumpkins. I've replaced soaker hoses and hung prayer flags which flutter nicely in the breezes. We'll hope for a generous bounty.

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Mother's Day came and went without a post from me, although I'd started a draft. I'd put a photo of mother, my brother and me on my Facebook page that was taken just three weeks before she died in 2005. It is hard to believe she's been gone for going on four years now, and that this winter, my dad will have been dead for 10 years.

But I see them in my own reflection: in my fine, greying hair, in my hands that show a delicate network of aging skin and a few arthritic lumps, in my smile. I hear them in my head -- how mother always said she liked listening to the silence rather than music or television (as do I these days), how they preferred ice water to sodas or lemonade, for instance.

I think of them at my age: mother retired at 60 from teaching because daddy had retired at 65, and they spent the next 10 or so years traveling and playing. More than that, too, but those were probably the prime years, although even those saw some health issues for both of them.

That's not quite in the cards for us yet. Tony is in full hammer-down mode as he goes in early and stays late working on a new product release. I've finished up a few stories, but so much of what I was doing has dried up, at least for now, for various reasons -- the main publication I was working on has ended, and I'm just not sure what I want to do next. This last week or so the play has begun to take most of my energy, although that will ease some with opening on Saturday night.

But I'm trying to stay open to opportunity and possibility. I need to make some money doing something, whether it's selling on eBay or pursuing more writing. Doesn't have to be a lot of money -- although I certainly have no objection to money, mind you!

I've asked the universe yet again to provide and to help me be open. We shall see where this next step takes us.
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Summer is upon us, early this year. We've already had triple digit temps, much to my disgust. I just didn't get enough rain this year, and the early heat had me scrambling in my closet for something that wasn't long-sleeved and cozy. I'm still organizing everything, but at least the linen and cotton things are readily available now.

The last few nights have been wonderful, though, with cool breezes making for sound sleeping conditions. I do love our location, but the early heat is a little frightening: it will be with us well into October in all likelihood. We're all fearful of another summer of fires and unhealthy air because it is so dry.

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We celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary yesterday by going out to breakfast, since I had rehearsal last night and he worked late again. We'll go to the ocean for a little R&R later this summer.

But we always remember that day in the Bay Area -- which was unseasonably warm for San Francisco, but gorgeous. We laughed, we cried through parts of the ceremony (which we wrote) and at which my Uncle Tom officiated, aboard a yacht on the Bay. We ate. We played and talked and enjoyed the boat ride all around our favorite landmarks, and there were Oracle and Kensington colleagues as well as family with us to mark the day.

We both feel incredibly blessed to have found each other, and to continue to be so much in love at this age. It's not that we don't have trials and some hard stuff to deal with -- but it's never with each other -- it's issues with the girls or with work or health or property or something like that. How rare that is to have such a relationship! I am so grateful.

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In the midst of all the busy-ness it is sometimes hard to remember that THIS is our life, each day. Time doesn't stop because we are too busy to notice what is happening every day, every moment. When the product is released and the play is over, our lives will change again -- not really back to what they were a few months ago, but to where they are going every day with every moment and every experience.

It is essential to find even a few moments to appreciate what we have THIS DAY, to ask for what we need, to reflect on and remember how precious time really is. One thing that becomes increasingly evident as we age is that everything can change in a moment, with a heartbeat. it is up to us to choose how we spend our time, who we touch, what we do and say, how we express our gratitude. We have that choice every day.

Steel Magnolias is in preview tonight and we open Saturday. The play is about the fragility of life, I believe, and the relationships with others that can help us deal with the uncertainty and the choices we all have. I'm grateful to be in it once again, for the third time, to be forging a bond with the five other actresses who are in the cast. I hope our audiences take home with them the blessing of friendship and the appreciation for each day we are given.

Ghosts of Christmases Past

Christmas Eve and it's raining outside -- which we've badly needed, so I'm not complaining. We aren't going far afield this Christmas -- mostly home, with a couple of gettogethers with our great neighbors and friends.

But my Christmases past always are with me on this eve, most of them sweet and poignant, some very memorable.

Like the year in Zionsville that I was singing in the choir, and we had not only an early service especially for the kids, but also an 11 p.m. service with a choir concert beginning at 10:30.

My folks were in from their winter place in the Rio Grande Valley, my brother was in from Nashville, and baby, it was cold. Indiana winters are not for the thin of blood.

We'd had our usual Christmas Eve dinner, probably with my friend Julie and her family, and I think we'd gone to the early service with the kids. I headed back to church about 9:45 or so, in time to warm up my voice before the service. I remember it was slippery in patches -- snow on the ground. R was headed to bed, and everyone else decided to stay home too, which was fine.

But they didn't. We were singing the first hymn, probably "O Come All Ye Faithful," and who should I see hurrying down the side aisle but my husband, my brother, and my dad, all grinning like Cheshire cats. They sat in the second or third row -- the church was packed, as usual for Christmas Eve, and they grinned at me (and Julie) for the entire service.

One of the hymns was, of course, "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," to which my husband had altered the words to be "Hark, the hare-lipped angels sing." Which he was singing.

My rubber face, which shows every emotion, was taxed to the max that night as I struggled to maintain some composure in the choir loft.

It was a sweet night. They'd decided I shouldn't be alone (never mind that the church was full and I was surrounded by choir friends), and lifted their various whiskey tenors in song, probably with whiskey fumes wafting over the nearby pews.

Another Christmas, same church: Julie's dog Oreo had had puppies a few days earlier -- and they were all dead or dying of parvo virus, including Oreo. She, our friends Nancy and Marcia, and I all cried all the way through the service.

I loved the 11 p.m. candlelight services there, and also in my church in Birmingham. There's not a late service to be found here, however -- they're all done by 9 p.m.

My parents are close by every Christmas Eve -- I spent only a few without being with them until their deaths. Most are filled with warm, fuzzy memories, of filling stockings and going to church and singing and watching lights twinkle on the tree. We often had guests at our table -- people who were alone, or traveling, or neighbors, or friends. Sometimes we'd do big dinners, other times it was wonderful soups, breads, cheeses, and decadent desserts, and always cookies baked both by me and my mother.

I miss them. I miss some of that warmth of those years, some of the fun of having a younger child in the house.

And yet there's joy these days as well, for close friends and neighbors, for each other, for being where we are, and for being so blessed. I don't sing in a choir anymore (although I may eventually again -- I do miss that), and we don't belong to a church. But we belong here, and we are grateful for the love and caring with which we are surrounded, and for the peace of the land.

Marking another year

Today is my birthday, my 61st, another year into this seventh decade of my life.

It feels like such a short time since I turned 60 last year, and THAT is one of the great lessons of aging: as we age, time speeds up. I want time for this birthday. I want good, quality time. And I guess it's up to me to make my minutes and hours and days to be just that, hm.

In this last year my hair is longer, greyer. My face has more lines in it. The texture of my skin is changing, although it smooths when I slather on rich moisturizing cream (lesson for those of you who may be under 40 -- always, always moisturize your face and neck and arms and legs).

My braces are off. My smile is big.

We spent time with extended family in Nashville and in Ashland. We watched movies, TV, read. We survived several days without electricity and a summer of smoke and fires. We got mad and we got over it. We laughed with our wonderful Red Bluff circle of friends.

We have an adult child living with us again.

Through it all there is a common thread: we create our own destiny. We are responsible for the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. We get to choose whether to be happy or sad, to be grateful or to be angry, to change or to stagnate.

There are days when that is the only thing that makes sense to me -- that we have a choice about our actions. It isn't that I always like the alternatives, but there ARE choices, even in harsh economic situations and unsettling times.

We do all we can, where we are, with what we've got.

That'll get me through this next year too, with the hope and many prayers that if I keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep a grateful heart and stay open to the goodness of the Universe, we will be all right.

Can't speak for anyone else: what they do is THEIRS, not mine, to manage.

But I will be okay.

I am so grateful to see all those grey hairs and life-lines in my mirror, and to begin another year. I am grateful to have second chances and new beginnings at life. I am HUGELY blessed by a wonderful circle of friends and girlfriends in this little town, who have already honored me with wonderful food and parties and gifts, and who continue to hold me close in their hearts with love and kindness.

I hope I return to them some of the joy and love they give to me.

May I never lose sight of the gratitude of this moment, this day. It is all we have, right now.

What I know for sure

.... you know with certainty the following 3 things:
(1) if you are living and breathing, you will pay taxes;
(2) someday you will die and meet your maker; and
(3) there are more slimeballs in this world than rats in a NYC tenement.

That's a quote from a fellow freelancer written in response to another list member's story about not getting paid for work done.

But it's a pretty accurate way to see things, I think.

Wish it weren't so -- that #3.

There are a lot of good people, too, who will help you, give you good advice, stand by you when you're hurting, and give you a shoulder to cry on.

I'm grateful for those. It's not easy for me to let them in when I'm hurting, but I've tried, and it's their collective supportive energies that have sustained me over these past months. I try to surround myself with good people who are the kind of friend to me that I try to be to them.

That's what it's about: giving back and also being able to receive kindness and generosity. Loving your family and friends. The rest of it has some importance, but it's not what will sustain you in hard times.

Y'know what I mean?

Telling the story 2

We accelerated the plan to last week -- Aug. 4 -- when several other details came to light about Princess #1's living situation in Alabama. Scary stuff including abuse and denial of food, among other things. And it already was pretty scary anyway.

So I met her dad there a week ago, and as soon as the jerk left for work, we got busy. R had prepared for this -- determining what we could pack into her car and her dad's van, and had weeded through clothing, made lists, and done as much as she could without arousing suspicion -- which she's not sure she quite managed, but came pretty close.

We loaded stuff in, including her two kitties, with the help of a couple of friends who I knew when I lived there, and eventually headed north to Missouri, where her dad lives. The little pile of possessions that made it out of there is not large -- but you know, the only irreplaceable things are people (and kitties).

The next day we headed for California, driving through Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, on I-80. It took all week, and we probably averaged over 600 miles a day. We got here about 5 p.m. Friday, after hitting most of the rest areas in all five states -- um, six including Missouri. Or actually more, when you count Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Illinois, which we went through to get to central Missouri.

We played at a casino one night in Nevada, shopped a Walmart in Nebraska, had our cell phones squeal and lose signal in Wyoming. We drove through rain, a little lightning, dust devils and wind, and amazingly found the last room available at a hotel in Rock Springs, Wyoming -- which is seeing most hotels full most nights because of a gas and oil boom that has workers staying in the lodging from there to Evanston, Wy. If you're headed that way, make reservations EARLY...

And the kitties were great, except for the last two days when one of them cried for most of the mornings -- we think the altitude might have hurt his ears.

Played the iPod -- he likes Enya, apparently, and finally curled up and went to sleep between us. The other, much mellower, kitty was fine and slept her days away curled in little places.

What an enormous change for R, especially.... and it has not been easy, but we're trying to stay in the moment and deal with one day at a time. Please continue your prayers for her especially as she deals with the stress of coming out of a terrible situation into safety, and leaving a place she's known as home since 1990.

I am so grateful for the seemingly unending strength and patience I've had this week -- I drove nearly all the way, and talked a blue streak. I know this is from the prayers and loving energy of my friends and family -- there is no other explanation. While I am reasonably patient and pretty strong, the deep wells of both qualities have been amazing to me --

So we begin a new chapter with an adult child living with us again. Princess #3 is thrilled and showed up at our door barely 10 minutes after we drove in, and the girls have really bonded again, which pleases us all. This is a good place, a calming place, and I pray for serenity, strength, and more patience for each of us to see this through.

Change is afoot -- I'm not sure what is going on in the universe, but it's hit more than just us. It remains to be seen what happens -- but last year, a little earlier than now, we asked the universe for help, for what we wanted, and we were gifted with what we asked for. We're doing the same now. This, or something better....

Blessings to you. Thank you.

Patience. Again.

I can tell you up front that there won't be any new posts this coming week. I'm not going to have Internet access to do so, and while I know people use their cell phones or pdas to post, I use my cell phone only as a phone and I don't have a pda.

So tune in next weekend when I can tell you the rest of the story....

It's been another lesson in patience. And in living one day at a time. And in letting go. And using the Serenity Prayer over and over and over.

But I will ask for your prayers and your kind thoughts.

I am very grateful for the love and support of friends and colleagues -- I've been moved to tears more than once this week in gratitude. There are good people here. And elsewhere. Thank you.

Stay cool. Stay well. Hug your spouses and your children, and pet your dogs and kitties. Show your gratitude and your love, and be kind. Thanks for reading my musings...