Sunshine, Shadows and Idyacy

All good here. Some glitches now and then. But mainly good.

However, I learned a few days ago (sadly), that a former neighbor voted tRump as the lesser of two evils, and is apparently still unaware that pizzagate was debunked long ago. I find this very depressing. Neighbor urged me to watch two YouTube pizzagate links, and in a spirit of openness, I decided to watch most of one, but disgust took over. What is wrong with the minds that come up with this and other such sick conspiracy theories? How can anyone actually  believe this stuff? 

It’s that kind of mindset that pushes me towards total intellectual snobbery (!_!), or (positively) one who now grasps why the rural male (and female) not-college-educated voter block is so undiscerning. A lie is a lie is a lie after all! People, today especially, absolutely need critical thinking skills and college can help develop that, for sure. 

Oh well, everyday life as we know it will go on for awhile I hope, but the dangers of tRumpian lunacy and amnesia and ignorance of history will keep feeding into and sabotaging our American  democracy. And that is exactly what Putin (and also Bannon) sought: undermine American values and traditions and erode truth and freedom in every possible way. Chaos, division, ignorance, bigotry and tRump are the tools. So sad. And yet the rise of radical right extremist leaders in the world is a fact. If only all that negative energy and bigotry and greed was directed at attacking the largely economic root cause of failed states! The cause of mass migrations seems ignored. The cause of poverty, violence, war seems ignored.  It ain’t rocket science! Greed rules too often, so life is cheap. Wars in Syria and Yemen endlessly support autocratic regimes and greed-is-good political alliances. Freedom is moved off the chessboard. Truth gets in the way, so it has to be dismembered, dissolved and denied. 

Where have all the flowers gone? Can we still find them and some sunshine? At least now and then, here and there? Can we hope for some needed measure of time to salvage a few more warm, peaceful mornings for another cup of coffee on that lovely deck of democracy before some idyat escaping from the icy 9th circle of hell owns us?

Yes, probably, because that promising big wave tells me: “Surf’s Up!”

NB: Apologies, and no offense intended to my good and generous former neighbor, and to my other friends and relatives of similar mind. Though I cannot fathom nor tolerate the plague visited upon us in the last few years, the dangers posed require alertness and resistance. The blatant corruption and constitutional crisis we face are NOT NORMAL. They are actually proving life-threatening.

Thinking Thanks

Wish you all a happy thanksgiving as you count your blessings! Here, today, a lovely rain is finally cleaning our smoky air and (after nearly two weeks!) we can again breathe safely outside. 

Thinking of those who have nothing, who have nothing left, opposite those who have no heart to care. This (thinking) seems an imperative today. American democracy dies by a thousand cuts when life is cheap, stupidity is lauded, children are caged, journalists are  butchered, and lawless tyrants reign like a mudslide.

Salut!

Something About Those First Graders!

I do not really remember learning how to read. Someone must have taught me, right?  But I have no recollection of the process.  I do remember sounding out words by syllables, but not by each letter’s sound, which I must have already known. I definitely never forgot the long vowels sounds: a e i o u. But those short vowel sounds are still kind of hazy. Upper case, lower case, telling time, counting, naming the months of the year?  I don’t remember when or how or who taught me all that.

Yes, I had parents and an older brother and I went to kindergarten and then first grade and so on. At home, the only story book I remember was “Black Beauty,” about a horse of that name. Obviously, my mother must have read to me in those days before TV and social media. And my grandma had a few familiar rocking chair lullaby songs. They were familiar because she sang them to me and to generations of her grandchildren and great grandchildren!

  My point is simply that I have pretty much no recollection of my  learning process for some of these basic things, and now that I am tutoring first graders (mostly boys so far) in an after school reading program, I am consciously learning right along with them. My experience of and with little kids is almost nil, so I am being challenged, but also having a fabulously fun time of it!

 I do not doubt that these days, many first-graders know more or less (or maybe a whole lot more)  than their ABC’s.  But I do want to say that I count myself exceptionally lucky every minute I spend with these kids. They wiggle, they run, they giggle, they interrupt, they spin on the chairs, they surprise, they play, and they notice stuff.  When I get unexpected clues about what their minds have processed, I count that a special treat. And I learn to not underestimate their grasp of things or their potential.  Even when pressed, these little boys usually have no idea what they want to be when they grow up. But when pressed, one boy declared he wanted to make pizzas, and that led into a whole new discussion. Another beat me (often) at game of “Hangman” with words: Lamborghini, bug, and think. (He was a third grader!)

So, I have to say: there’s something about those first graders, something amazing and extremely precious: they are without guile. As grown ups, I pray that their every potential will be fully realized with only microscopic loss of innocence. Probably nothing else will matter very much.

[Thankful for Alex, Salvador, Julian, Ismael, Selvin, Alejandro,  Kayler, and Krystal.]

C’est La Vie!

Sharon Marie  Clare Rachel Ruhland
1941 + 20__
ICXC + NIKA
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About obituaries, specifically mine:
What can be said? Who can say it? Should it be said?

My own feeling is that very little can fairly be said about my life or death by anyone I leave behind on earth. So I conclude that nothing should be said. And certainly no photographs. Actually, that is my wish. Why? Having no immediate family left, it seems best that whatever memory or recollection springs to mind for relatives, friends, or colleagues be left there, in their minds. Dredging up just a substantial outline of my life would be tedious (no, impossible) for anyone but myself. And doing it myself would likely, if read, bore those still busy living. You see, I would have to go into much detail (as is my wont) so that the reader could understand where I came from and how I got to where I went. Everyone’s life journey is largely inscrutable, yes?

So there you have it: I was known and unknown. I was seen and unseen. I was there and then I was gone. And while I want to tell so many things about how and what I learned, where I went and why, which relationships became eternal responsibilities, the task is daunting. No, the task is overwhelming. Besides, it is the stuff of memoirs. That is probably why I see the insufficiency of obituaries, mine or yours, or anyone’s.  (Nevertheless, I do read them, so let yours be written.)

The grass withers, the flower fades. Yet somehow, life is changed, not taken away. Viva Jesu! Hallelujah. Biblical and liturgical meanings revive: Kenosis. Koinonia. Maranatha. Kyrie Eleison. Theotokos. IXOYE. The angels, saints, hermits, mystics and Fathers and Doctors of the Church fill my desert cave. Unfathomable wonders of beauty, truth and goodness take my breath, and fill my silences. Mercy and Compassion are songs that dance. Waters a million times clearer and cleaner  than Tahoe carry me. Consciousness elates me with recognition that everything is a gift. Eucharistia. Thankfulness. Amen.

To be continued? Perhaps. I am feeling fine, so this may serve as preview. On the other hand, if it is a finale, that means I did not finish downsizing, did not finish cleaning up after myself, did have plenty of unfinished business. Oh well. C’est la vie! Forgive me as I will one day, hopefully, Rest In Peace. There is no  ephemeral forwarding address yet! Salut! Hasta la vista, baby! Ciao, Bella!

Philanthropy Vs Branding

I want to be a philanthropist. When I was young, I found a way to give away everything, keeping only a few necessities. It worked well for me. In many ways I actually had more than I needed. I lived in obscurity, with purpose and gratefully. And so I grew. And then I got the chance to give away more, and I did. On the surface, and to the casual observer, my life was not (and never was) what it seemed. I always knew that below the surface things were not as they appeared. But I also knew that some people do not grasp this.

A significant thing I gave away (with no little pain), was the Brand I so strongly identified with. Letting go of it was a brutal process, but I knew that I’d just be relinquishing the superficial elements of an identity that remained. What seemed a reversal of sorts, was nothing of the kind. I had a crystal clear awareness about the upside-down turn my life would take.

Obviously, the philanthropy of people like Warren Buffet and Bill Gates and Mother Teresa has enormous power to rekindle hope and courage in me and in the disheartened who pay attention. And this is crucial for me, seeing that natural disasters, failed governments, thievery, lunacy and corruption do deprive entire populations of sustenance and peace, of life and liberty.

Even when I gave away all I thought I could, there was more to give. And I can see that the heart of a philanthropist is something to emulate. Every day I count my blessings. Every day, in my simple and obscure life, I need to become a philanthropist. How? Without any Brand, but with purpose and meaning, with consciousness and conscience, with  compassion and humanity.

The specifics of my particular story matter little in comparison with the truth of these reflections. Besides, skipping the specifics helps me focus and stay on point.  Yes?

Good Fruit

Thank you, Rev Charles Onubogu, for today reminding listeners at Iglesia Catolica de  Nuestra Señora del Pilar in Half Moon Bay, CA, that: A good tree bears good fruit, and a bad tree cannot do that. And, importantly, ‘Behavior is Determined by the Nature of a Thing.’ (Thomas Aquinas)

Dear Father, it is Trinity Sunday and you made my day!

So I lit three large candles to symbolically memorialize all family, friends and military whose lives bore witness to those truths, and to remind myself that bad behavior of powerful people is garbage, and comes from rotting roots. Then, as I left the church, I was happily thankful for the music resounding weekly now from  my brother Michael’s precious  piano.  What a perfect blessing!

But there was more: in the sunny parking lot, I saw you blessing a family’s car, drenching it with holy words and holy water. I did not intrude or interrupt that ritual, but determined to remedy the neglect of my own vehicle, secured last All Saints Day. It carries a favorite image of the  Madonna and Child, has been drenched by coastal fog, and washed by California rains, but an official blessing is overdue, as so often happens. So I will remember to find you for this task, and once again laud your insightful gifts.

God, please bless America! Enable goodness in all people within our shores and borders, from the mountains, to the prairies, to the oceans. Water the seedlings, refresh and reforest the scorched earth. Relegate the bad fruit to the compost heap of history. Wreak your havoc now, as we watch you speedily obliterate corrupt and greedy behaviors. God, bless America!

Goat Rodeo

In the wee hours  of this morning, as I was researching information about the ferry from San Francisco to Mare Island and the Tiffany windows in the small chapel there, things were happening in the wider world.   After some sleep, with my morning coffee a few hours later,  I drank in the news via MSNBC and twitter:  Boastful buffoonery continues as the dear leader in DC moved to upstage the dear leader in North Korea with a signature adolescent love and kisses breakup letter; the DOJ continued its attempts to function independently and with integrity amid blantantly unprecedented interference from the Executive Branch and its invertebrate congressional, lawyer and media sycophants.

Then, from an MSNBC analyst, the fabulously descriptive term: GOAT RODEO!

Tragicomedies? For sure. Consequently, I think it good to memorialize the term and say the obvious: Just Another Goat Rodeo Day in America. Viva Chiquita Banana Republic? Of course not. Hope not. After all, unlike cats, goats CAN be herded. But we do first need to get a capable goatherd...

Just telling it like it currently is. And I am never forgetting why, who and what all we Americans celebrate with reverence and awe on each Memorial Day: the land of the free, and the home of the brave. Okay? Olay!

God bless America, from sea to shining sea!



 

Ethics and Eternal Considerations

Life is relational. This makes sense.  Every relationship is an eternal responsibility. Hmmmmm. This also makes sense to me, but perhaps not to someone who has no time for “eternity.” Graduate school was the time and place that planted these realities in my brain. They still ring true for me. They help me paddle my canoe. And having a good heart imbued with wisdom, as the Dalai Lama says is the greatest happiness, suggests the best way for life on the water to unfold.

I can always learn, unless I have no questions or curiosity. There are plenty of excellent guides to carry me forward these many years since grad school. And that is actually one of the main benefits of  my education. But there is also this: the study of Ethics fascinated me, but also frightened me.

 Probably the thing about the study ethics that frightened me was that being on the cutting edge of something was exciting but also seemed dangerous. What if you were wrong?  Probably what I failed to grasp was that while  you had to follow the logic and then stick your neck out, if you were later proven wrong, you would regroup and learn and grow beyond the point of the cutting edge. You didn’t have to just stay there and bleed to death!  You would contribute. You would continue to learn. At that time, bioethics and medical advances were racing with each other. They still are spurring each other on. Add theological principles to the mix, and the challenges and rewards multiply.  But the study of ethics is immense and wide ranging and touches probably every facet of our existence.

 So why have I been thinking about this lately? I guess it is because some days it seems that nothing matters. Up is down, and down is up, and events and behaviors of visible leaders and hidden, ordinary people in our society are just crazy.  I now have more than a handful of friends who cannot bear to listen to or watch the news because it is so depressing, infuriating, disgusting, upsetting, confusing and unhelpful.   I understand that. But I watch it all, and while experiencing those emotions myself, I find it good to know the details of what is going on. I ask the questions, look for the answers and hope. And I am sustained and also mightily encouraged when I see there are still leaders and ordinary people much smarter than myself and much more invested in our society than I am.  They sometimes get headlines too, but just knowing they exist  helps me focus and is extremely helpful. And they reassure me that the bullies, the disruptive students, the inmates in the asylum, will not be allowed free range forever!

So what happens when an administration and/or individuals and large segments of a society, of American society, toss aside and disregard the usual ethical norms? What happens when it reaches a point where there are no discernible norms, when nothing seems to matter, when even the rule of law seems nonexistent? When acceptable behavior becomes totally arbitrary and subjective and relative, should everything be legislated?  Of course not. That would be impossible and inhuman.

So what happens is this: I  mentally resist the lawlessness, the lunacy, the disregard for ethical norms, the gutting of institutions and treaties. I see it for what it is. I look back at history and I look forward to the future.  I know I do not have to reinvent the wheel or rediscover fire or learn again to walk upright.  I know I just have to put one foot in front of the other one day at a time, and live for the day when that frozen ninth circle of hell will claim it’s own.

Ethics is eternal! Hallelujah!

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Why Do Fools Start Wars?

Is it because they are fools? Is it because they cannot fall in love? Do only fools out-of-love start wars?

I was thinking and wondering about whether someone has researched, written about and reached any conclusions about who, exactly, starts wars? I mean, if we can name specific individuals that apparently triggered various large wars in the last 1000 years or so, can they be reliably profiled? Were they fools, dictators, narcissists, demagogues, warriors, schizophrenics, ignoramuses, delusional, bullies, autocrats, paranoid, mercenaries, autodidactic, or maybe wealth-seekers hungry for the spoils of war? Or some combined characteristics of the above? Were they abused, deprived, neglected, abandoned, malnourished, poverty stricken, homeless in childhood?

Who were they and and what can be discovered and discerned about why they started wars wittingly or unwittingly?

The somewhat obvious origin of my question is pretty existential: the frightening and dangerous era in contemporary American history, that is currently scaring not only Americans, but sensible and alert people worldwide. Some are perhaps playing with a delusional deck of cards. I think there is that, but probably more than that.

Historically, why did no one stop these war-mongers? Stupidity, cowardice, lethargy, inattentiveness, greed, vested interests (political or otherwise)?

Sleeping giants do wake up eventually. Some of them are also undoubtedly fools. Some of them actually do stop or avert wars. Some of them just go with the flow. Some of them are profiteers. Some are self-involved, corrupt beings that have no human compassion or care for others. Some are mean and hateful and angry and aggrieved without cause. They lack rationality. But when they tolerate or start wars, indiscriminately attacking cultures, torturing individuals, separating families, and with scorched earth methods totally disregard all human values, they earn a special place in Hell.

Only God sees the heart, or so believers believe. But any conscious and conscience-driven human being senses evil when it touches them. Asleep or awake, evil has a way of getting our attention and sometimes killing us. War, slowly or suddenly, inflicts the evil of an unnatural death, and so we must resist it. I repeat: We must resist war, it’s evils, and those unmindful of its evil.

And we must remember that wars in this day and age do not always startle us. Their toxic fumes can slowly, subtly creep out of small societal cracks and then explode. The enemy within is not always a Manchurian candidate. (And it seems that the mustache is fairly irrelevant - despite Stalin, Hitler,  Bolton, etc - since not a consistent factor.) Sometimes the home grown enemy is simple bigotry or greed. Sometimes we cannot see it or sort it all out, but we can always try to be discerning and energetically mindful of the lethargy that refuses to say something (or do something) when we see or smell something evil. And we can be ever thankful that we are not alone, even in the darkest days and nights.

Fools do start wars. The rest of us can stop them if only we have the will to do so. Rome was not built in a day; it fell when no one resisted, and when the fools took over. Oh, oh, oh, say can you see that when the inmates run the asylum, it is not a pretty picture.

God bless America, from sea to shining sea.

Minnesota Dreamin’

“It should be an adventure.  A test of our coping and resilience.” 
(Fran Bukrey)

I quoted a friend at the start of this post because I feel that, especially these days, any travel is an adventure and a test of coping and resilience! And I suspect this increases with age simply because if one is very comfortable and content with ones every day life there is no real impetus to get out of the routine. But we also know that routine can be a euphemism for rut, and staying there indefinitely is not good. I flew to Minnesota on April 24 and will fly back to California on May 8. So because of all the arrangements, eg reservations for getting to and from airports, reservations for shuttles and cars and hotels, it is daunting and tiresome. However when one is successful there is this feeling of “I did it! I can still do it!” And I have to say that when I finally get back to my splendid, vacant, unsold condo it is a great relief, despite a very bare bones and Spartan life (mostly because I have no TV here).

So I am back in my condo for two weeks and catching up on things with neighbors and friends and relatives. It is still very chilly here in MN, but at least the snow is gone except for the big dirty heaps where the plows had to dump it two weeks ago. The Mississippi is in it’s usual fabulously wild spring-time splendor as I view it from my condo. After a rather busy day yesterday with my cabinet maker installing knobs on my bathroom cabinet, an electrician installing new LED lights in two ceiling fixtures, a trip to RadioShack for DISH TV brochures (some owners here are switching to DISH because Charter/Spectrum Service has been failing and company says our building has to be re-wired), shopping for a few essentials at Walmart, I was tired and feeling a bit under the weather. And I was cold! But Alas, when I tried to reset my furnace thermostat it read “ lo battery.” Of course it needed AAA batteries and I had only AA batteries on hand. Go figure. So, freezing, I went to bed early.

So now it’s a new day and I hope to scrounge a few AAA batteries from a neighbor who will, hopefully, help me reset my thermostat. I can never quite manage it and she has one just like it so knows how to do it.

Local high school kids are colorfully populating the park for a few hours for prom pictures, a tradition here. It’s always too chilly for those fancy dresses but they manage. I think today will be a lazy one for me, and if I get my thermostat reset that will be my success for the day. I have my iPhone and iPad and Macbook with me but, unfortunately, it seems I left my laptop power cord/charger on my desk at home! So with only 33% of the battery left on my laptop I will not be able to use it unless I buy an expensive new power cable at Best Buy in St. Cloud, about 35 miles away. Darn! Being here without a TV, getting online with my laptop is  comforting  way to get clips of MSNBC shows I am addicted to. (OK OK OK! I admit it! So there!)

Time to go check the news, read a book, and, if I feel ambitious about some healthy exercise, bundle up for a sunshiny walk in the Park along the edge of the mighty Mississippi.

Sent from my iPad

Life after Facebook?

Yes. There is life after Facebook. At least as long as I have Messenger and Twitter.   They say young people have moved on from FB to Instagram and other platforms, leaving it to “old people.”  So maybe I am prescient, and not just an angry protester? Does not really matter.

I do now have to check my impulse to post pics on FB. And I am working on what to do with that, since photography is a great love of mine and this era of iPhone digital pics has made it so easy.

So here is my point: I am surviving. But I do miss seeing friends stuff on FB. And I had noticed that FB had changed over time and was making me wade through lots of interesting links just to find what friends posted. So I am realistic enough to know that some of my select few FB friends might miss my posts, and others barely notice I’m gone, I am hoping Mark Zuckerberg notices enough to actually fix the major flaw in his billion dollar baby.

Zuckerberg is, I think, a good guy and smart. And he had begun to follow the philanthropic example of Buffet and Gates. That is good. But now we wait to see if and when and how well he corrects course. He owes us that yesterday.

In the meantime, I try to forgive the fact that I and FB users have been used and sold out to nefarious, greedy and corrupt entities. But I cannot forgive anything of mine being sold to theTrump crime family.

Life after Facebook?