When a gift just keeps on giving

So, you may already know that I had an anniversary recently. It was a biggie too. Twenty years! Who would'a thunk it, huh? It came on a Wednesday, a typical Wednesday where my husband went off to work in the wee hours of the morning, giving me a kiss goodbye before heading off in the dark. It was later when I got up to make breakfast for me and the boy when I discovered this:

Typical of our tradition, I did not open it. We always (always) wait until we're together to open gifts, cards and such. However . . . she said with a cunning little grin . . .  tradition did not prohibit my lifting and shaking the thing! But oh my gosh . . . what the heck did he buy me?! A case of bricks? A personalized stepping stone?

Ronnie lifted it too and between the two of us, we figured it weighed some ten to fifteen pounds.

Needless to say, I heaved it up and down a number of times throughout the day trying to guess what was in it. And only when hubby and I had gone out to a nice celebratory dinner and returned home, did I open it.

And it wasn't a brick at all but this:

What an awesome gift! Reminiscent of our ten year anniversary when we'd taken an Alaskan cruise, returning with stories and memories, a lot of great art work, a ton of pictures! And a case of canned Sockeye Salmon that had lasted many, many months.

I expect this case to do the same.

However, I did dig into it the other day.

It looked something like this:

And on my salad it looked just like this:

And it tasted a lot like this:

Yep . . .that's about it.

THANKS HONEY! I LOVE IT!

I want a "nothing box!"

So, I got to thinking about an interview I read a while back. It was about meditation and the interviewer asked the interviewee whether it was harder for women to meditate than it was for men. Her thinking here was from a historical background: how in meditation the goal is to let go of everything, to surrender one's mind and give ourselves over to nothing. Now, the interviewer was a big time feminist who argued that women have been made to surrender everything for thousands of years and now that they've begun climbing out of that mindset, it's harder for them to let themselves fall back into it.

I'm not sure I agree with the foundation of her argument but I have wondered the same thing myself from time to time. Especially sitting there on my cushion, wishing my monkey mind would stop all its chattering and settle down. However, MY curiosity stems from another line of thinking. Like this image of how a woman's brain supposedly works:

I don't claim to have a single CLUE as to how men's brains work in comparison (although I have asked myself that question a time or two). And then there's that comedian, Mark Gungor, who does a pretty good job describing the difference: 

A "nothing box" huh? I sure could use one of those sometimes. Especially sitting in meditation when all the balls are rolling off edges, pinging off walls and bouncing into each other. When all the wires are making countless connections and firing all at the same time. Or at 3:00 AM when my mind wakes me up to rehash some small little incident that seems larger than reality in the middle of the night. Boy would a nothing box come in handy then. 

I need a nothing box! 

My Queendom for a nothing box!

Four Gee!

My husband and I signed up to answer the phones for PBS last night during Rick Steves' airing. I told all my friends beforehand so they knew to watch for us - and to call in with a pledge if they felt so inclined.

For a while there, we didn’t think we’d make it to the studio across town. Nature had vent her fury on Houston earlier in the day and streets were flooded. Traffic was everywhere - heading to the rodeo, trying to get through high water or get around accidents . . . you name it. On top of all that, Obama was here and so there were street closures. A thirty minute drive turned into an hour and a half.

But I’m glad we stuck it out. It was such fun! My favorite caller was eighty three year old Thomas from Katy who talked to me for ten minutes about all the places he’d been and the things he recognized on Rick’s show. I missed out on getting my picture taken with Rick though. Seemed every time he was available, I was on a call.

Which was why I was there in the first place, right? 

During one of our breaks from taking calls, I checked my new “smart” phone (more about that later) and found a text waiting for me from my friend Barbara.

“Hey look . . . I got a picture of a picture!” I shared her text around the room and then my husband and I worked through its lineage.

See, Barbara had taken a picture of the picture that was on TV. So I was looking at a picture of the picture of the original picture. And now . . . if you’re looking at it--which I know you are because you’re here--well, you’re looking at its fourth generation!

The first ever 4G Picture!

Thanks Barbara! Ain’t technology great! 

What the heck?

Most times I write about something with a semi-serious silliness to it. Or at least that’s my goal. (see The Trick is Driving Fast Enough.)

And that’s all well and good. But sometimes we just have to rein in the silly side of things and try to make sense of this reality we find ourselves in.

I got to thinking the other day about how movies and books are changing. I’m sure you’ve noticed it too . . .  the recent popularity of shows with strong female leads and men who hover around them. Take Castle and Body of Proof for example; gorgeous, independent and capable women succeeding in a once male dominated industry. Or how about The Help or a while back, The Secret Life of Bees – maybe no hovering men but the girls sure took care of themselves didn’t they? And then there are the books, like the wildly successful Hunger Games with Katniss kicking butt all over the page. A newer book I think we’re going to hear more of is Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone. There are many, many more. In film and literature, women seem to be getting a long overdue leg up.

Juxtapose this to what the media is calling “The Republican’s War on Women” and you have to wonder what the heck is going on!? Are we rapidly approaching another Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women?* Hopefully not. Hopefully it’s just a handful of antiquated thinkers unfortunately in high places and trying to bully their personal agendas back into our culture. (*If you’re not familiar with Susan Faludi’s book, you might want to check it out. You’ll never look at marketing, the media or the government the same way again.) 

The Dali Lama said that if the world’s to be saved, it will be western women who do it. I think of Oprah Winfrey opening schools for girls in South Africa. I think of The Women’s Funding Network, an organization dedicated to investing in women and girls worldwide. There are countless others I could name. Women stepping up to help other women, a world acknowledging the fact that, "when you educate a girl, you educate a nation."

Certainly we western women enjoy a greater equality than women in other countries - countries where some women feel that self-immolation is the only way out of the rules of their culture. Countries where rape has become a strategic war maneuver. We in the west are in a position to "be the change we want to see in the world," as Gandhi put it. And we can do it too. But not by taking steps backward. To "change" means to transform, to become something different - not something tried and abandoned. I once worked for a boss who didn't like the system changes I'd coordinated because they were "different." I never understood his logic then and I still don't.


I do know that sometimes its fear that makes people avoid change. They'd rather stay stuck in their old ways than to change - regardless of whether those ways work or not. And maybe that's it with that handful at the top. They're afraid of what might happen if they share that position with women. They feel safer keeping women at home, cooking, cleaning, raising the kids. They feel safer if they're the ones in control of well . . . everything.

But that's how it's been for thousands of years and looks where it's gotten the world. It's time for some new programming. It's time for Castle and Body of Proof. It's time for Minny and Aibileen. It's time for Katniss and Karou. 

It's time. 

The Absolute Truth About the Absence of Youth

That was the title of the book I was going to co-write with a few friends a few years back. We thought of all sorts of places we could go with it. For example, the whole idea of having an absolute truth in the first place is absurd. In truth, we all have our own versions of the truths. In truth, truth is subjective. Come to think of it, since our truths are so individual, how could any truth ever be an absolute one in the first place! Sure I could have my own absolute truths, and you could have yours. But how could I ever think to impose mine over the top of yours? And then have the unmitigated gall to write a book about it? Absurd, indeed!

But then, haven’t we all been subjected to other people’s truths throughout history? The earth is flat. And the sun revolves around it. Blood-letting is the cure for all major diseases. A woman’s place in the home.

I could go on. But that’s not what I really want to talk about here.

Aside from playing around with the words themselves, I remember going in a completely different direction with it. For me, the absence of youth meant my rapidly approaching “empty nest” status. Yep, my baby will soon be off to college which will leave my home void of its youth. It’s bound to be pretty absolute in the stillness his absence will leave and I can only wonder what kinds of truths it will to reveal.

But that’s not what I want to talk about either. 

I want to talk about my sister’s recent visit. Yvonne and I live a few thousand miles apart and don’t get to see each other very often. So her visit lent itself to all sorts of great conversational opportunities. She and I are both . . .  well . . . let’s just say our own youths are a distant past. I guess you could say they’re absent. Oh sure, we collectively hold the feminine wisdom of many (many) decades—wisdom neither of us would trade for youth any old day. But still . . . Why the heck do things have to go so far south!? I’m reminded of a certain poem I wrote a while ago, one that has yet to be published so copy-write laws do apply:

Deflated

Straight forward

they’d stare ~ no matter what I’d wear.

even occasions

I’d let them go bare!

Happy twins bouncing

in harmony, poised

in precise symmetry,

enhancing the verticals that

once were me.

But alas, age and

motherhood defied the whole

topography.

Realigned their

perfect visibility ‘till the ground

is all the old girls see.

Oh sure, I know about

gravity, and laws of relativity.

But how sad to know

they apply to me.

It’s said that life

can be unfair; a view

no doubt I easily share with

other moms like me.

As we age in deflated

disrepair. 

But no matter that

my perky pair -

condemned to depreciate

with each

passing year.

My spouse and I,

sometimes compare

other things lost

(like his hair).

  

I guess old mother nature

can be equally unfair.

Anyway, back to my sister and I. We decided that we’d start working toward a couple things: first would be the overall reduction in the size of our “wisdom containers.” We decided to weigh in on certain days and keep each other honest by sharing the results of said measurements via e-mail. We also decided to improve the overall health and texture of our containers by increasing our exercise and eating better—which will be a stretch since we both already enjoy some form of exercise at least five days a week. And neither of us eat very terribly . . . we both abstain from fast food, from junk food, from fatty food. But boy, do we like our deserts! And how we enjoy that glass of wine (or two) with dinner. And then there’s me with my love for an occasional (that’s a completely subjective word, you know) cosmopolitan.

So there you go  . . . our plan to ward off the absence of youth. Or at least go “gently into its goodnight.”

And so far, so good! In the past couple of weeks we’ve lost a combined total of eight pounds and our clothes are fitting a tad better since we’re changing the texture of our containers. We are watching our portions more closely and so we feel better after each meal (I have this thing where my nose stops up when I get full. I call it my shut off valve, something I’ve tended to ignore in recent past. But last night I realized that my shut off valve hasn’t been employed in a while – yet another measurement of success!) And then this morning, I saw it! Something I haven’t seen in a very long time.

My hip bone! 

I hope to resurrect the other one soon. Wish me luck!