A Load of Bushit
Here’s a little warm up (borrowed from Blue Girl) to get you ready for all of President Bush’s bullshit and misinformation in tonight’s “State of the Union.” What’s the state of our union? One word:_____________ !
Monday, January 28, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Smokeversary
One year ago today, I smoked my last cigarette. This one year mark is particularly significant because it means that I’ve made it through a whole year’s worth of ritualized annoyances without cigarettes (for anyone who has ever smoked or still does, you know how huge this is). So, on top of the normal reasons to smoke like family get-togethers with my mother-in-law, passive-aggressive school teachers, stacks of essays to grade, my children’s bickering, this year has also included chronic health problems, an eight pound weight gain (and now loss), and worst of all–a family vacation that included visiting my father-in-law. And I didn’t smoke. Not one puff.
Of course, I’m glad I quit smoking, and I miss it like hell. These two states of mind cannot be mutually exclusive, I’ve discovered, when kicking an addiction. I can’t be all Pollyanna about quitting smoking and still continue to choose to live smoke free every day. And believe me, still, 365 days later, it’s still a choice. For certain, some days pass when I don’t think about it at all, and on other days it seems that I think about smoking every minute of the day. I have to honor my struggle by acknowledging (usually out loud) that this not smoking thing is sometimes SUCKTASTIC. I watched High Fidelity last week, and John Cusac’s character was smoking in a restaurant…Ah, the good old days…
Anti-smokers and smoker-haters would remind me that smoking is disgusting and smelly, and yes it is both. Three things I don’t miss are the smell on my clothes and in my hair, cleaning up butts, and freezing my ass off to get my fix.
But here’s what I do miss about smoking. I miss the girl I was when I started. I was a smart, edgy girl in college, and I smoked as a way of being bad without REALLY being bad. I wore knee-high black boots (jeans tucked in, naturally) and black eyeliner. I drank cheap wine and cheaper beer and hung out at poetry readings. I loved this girl, and I clung to this image of myself for as long as I could.
As a parent, I became a sneaky smoker. Only a few people knew that I smoked, and I always hid outside to have a cigarette. This was fun. I think we all need to be a little bit bad sometimes, and sneaky smoking was how I took a break from all the self-induced pressure of being a great mom and a great teacher and a great person. Also, smoking separated me from the gossipy PTA mombots, and I loved that too. I’d call up Mrs. Lipsticky, light up a smoke, and go on about how these women were all so effed up or about how my family could be so ungrateful.
But here’s something else I discovered. I’m generally a nicer person as a non-smoker. I know this now. I look back at all of the things that used to annoy me, and they don’t bother me that much anymore. Maybe removing the constant craving for nicotine has mellowed me out a little. But I’m also more sensitive. When I used to get angry (and go smoke), I now get hurt (and sometimes go cry). This is a shift that I’m still trying to negotiate.
But on the whole, and with a deep sigh, I’m congratulating myself for diving back into, instead of using cigarettes to hide from, the sometimes painful struggle that is life. And yes, it has been worth it. Every minute of it.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Parachute
Two news bits gave me pause this week. The first–I was driving and listening to NPR, when the reporter led a story with the phrase “suicide bomber.” I moved to switch over to music when I realized that I was, in fact, bored by a story about a suicide bomber. Of course, my next feeling was deep shame, and I listened attentively to the spirit-breaking news of the bombing at a Shiite Temple during holy days. But still, days later, I’m deeply troubled to count my own desensitization as yet another casualty of this war. And then, I saw on the CNN crawl the news that Canada has added US to its torture watch list. This news didn’t surprise me, but I became fully aware that I had long given up hope for my country–that our imperialism and greed had finally broken me.
The poet William Stafford once said, “I have woven a parachute out of everything broken,” and these words give me hope that we can, in fact, make something from the broken parts that will save us. But it seems to me, that this change can’t come from a paternalistic governmental figure, but rather, from the bottom, from, as MLK Scholar Kirk Noden said at a local observance, from “Mrs. Jones on the corner.” We all know that Dr. King had a dream, but a little reported fact is that he also believed that one of the biggest threats to Civil Rights was the “white moderate.”
King said, “I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the [...] great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is [...] the white moderate is who is more devoted to ‘order’ than to justice.”
Even today, although in a different context, it seems that the same may be said true. It may be the white moderates, who are desperately trying to hold on to what they have, who are fearful of change and of terrorism and of rising gas prices and of unemployment, who are, albeit accidentally, still the greatest stumbling block to Civil Rights–this time to the erosion of them. We cling so desperately to the status quo that we’ve squelched our own desire to fight for right and for justice, and then we fill the gaping holes in our psyches with food, drink, smokes, gossip, and cheap chinese goods from Wal-Mart.
And still, hope comes from some of the parachute weavers. Blue Girl provides a forum for thought-provoking discussion of all things related to current politics. Wren educates about some of the more under-the-radar political goings-on, and she does so with great depth of feeling. Christopher examines the Civil Rights discussions of current candidates Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton with his trademark elegant understatement.
In my moments of governmental faithlessness, I’m reminded that there are so many of us who want to see our country and our people become whole, and that our numbers include award-winning authors, bright political writers, poets, scholars, teachers, clergy men and women, counselors, computer techs, janitors, homemakers, and yes, Mrs. Jones on the corner.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Sass and Passion
After a week of girl clubs and sister-puking, Mira got a much-needed soul boost today. She won first place in her school’s Cultural Arts contest for her drawing “A Clean Earth is a Livable Earth.” Mira’s so thrilled to be recognized for her art; she said, “I was so excited, I bragged about it a little!” Art is Mira’s passion, and I envy and love that at eight years old, she already has such a sense of herself that she calls herself “artist” and proudly displays a button that says so on her book bag. I don’t ever remember being that sure of myself. Little girls at eight are so amazing–they’re strong and sassy, but not too into being cool or looking right. I wish I could capture how Mira is right now and help her stay this way…I wish I could capture a little of her spirit for myself.
I was twelve the first time that I got similar recognition for my passion for books. I won a prize–Madeline L’Engles Wrinkle in Time trilogy, which I still have–at the local university’s English Festival. I remember the glow that I felt as I walked to the front of the auditorium in front of hundreds and hundreds of kids from area schools and collected my prize. I remember feeling the feeling of being good at something, and better yet, other people thought I was good at it too.
It’s unfortunate that not long after, I got caught up in the world of, well girl clubs, boys, lip gloss, and designer jeans. I lost myself for too long. I hope I can save my fabulous daughter from a similar experience. I just have to remind myself every day to nuture the sassiness that she has right now because it will serve her far more in life than being cool and looking right ever will.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Beginnings
Usually, I experience a big, post holiday, deflated feeling at this time of year, but this year, I’m a little more cheerful. A couple of weeks ago, I did a little reseach on winter solstice celebrations and relearned the importance of observing nature’s cycles. Then last night, I was browsing through the Farmer’s Almanac (okay, stop laughing), and discovered that the month January was named after the Roman god Janus, the god of beginnings. Janus is usually depicted as having two heads, so that he can see both the past and the future. So this tidbit, combined with my little foray into pagan winter observances, put me in a reflective state of mind.
I felt something a little like envy at how connected the ancients were to the natural world. I say envy because of the number of technological devices that I don’t want to live without. To clarify, I had this thought as I was riding a stationary bike-machine featuring computer generated choices of trails; I chose “lost ruins.” And I was listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers on my MP3 player. You get the idea.
Still, I’m trying to be a little more pensive about the purpose of the deep, cold, dark winter. We need the darkness for growth and for rest and for renewal. Mushrooms grow in the dark and so do crocuses and tulips. So, I’m planning to observe the winter by using the inside time to read and reflect. This way of thinking marks a pretty drastic departure for me. I used to strictly and somewhat impatiently view these months as a test of endurance… if I could get through them without too much bitching, Spring would be here soon. Admittedly, it’s only January 3, and in March, or when it’s snowing in April as it often does here in Ohio, I may feel less centered. But still, I’m not going to get all cynical just yet…it’s only the beginning.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
In With The New
I’m a little superstitious about New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. I believe that whatever I’m doing, I’ll be doing for the rest of the year. For this reason, I refuse to be away from Reg or the girls when the new year begins. I prefer a low-key night with family, pizza, wine, chocolate, and board games (admittedly, mostly the wine and the chocolate), followed by a day of loafing and video-watching (Pirates 3: At World’s End), and kielbausi and kraut in the crockpot.
I don’t make resolutions (I did make a mix CD) because they factor into my superstition; if I’m thinking about losing weight today, I’ll be thinking about it all year. Not fun. Instead, I like to consider to what I’m looking forward in the New Year:
*Better Health. I struggled with an self-destructive thyroid (Hashimoto’s thyroiditis) through nearly all of 2007 (11 months). Now my levels of (fake) thyroid hormone are regulated. It’s amazing how much one little gland can affect a life. 2007 felt like “when my thyroid levels get straightened out” limbo, and I’m sooo glaaad to be free of it.
*Nina and Robin’s wedding. It sounds super-corny, but theirs is one of those rare relationships that inspires, and I’m thrilled to be a part of it.
*The end of George W. Bush’s presidency…moving on.
*Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert’s coverage of the end of George W. Bush’s presidency.
*New TV, especially FX’s The Riches (love Eddie Izzard).
*Becoming involved with local revitalization efforts. I live in a dead steel town that is on the verge of a renaissance. The new energy is thrilling.
*Trusting. I just made a career decision (not to pursue promotion) that makes me, as a feminist (and sometimes a pessimist), a little nervous, but I know I’m doing the best thing for my family…and my spirit.
*Watching Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix a bazillion times. Santa brought the DVD. Thank you Santa!
*Reading. The stack of reading material is growing (and the list of must-reads is growing even more).
*Solitude. I’m not much of a winter girl, but I’m going to try and enjoy the quiet that the darkness and the cold bring.
*Spring and Summer. I’m already craving green and sunshine and popsicles and the pool.
*Exercise. I’ve recently discovered that I really enjoy working out– even cardio, which I used to hate (I used to consider walking across the Target parking lot cardio). Weird old guys at the Y notwithstanding, working up a good sweat has become an essential part of my day, and it’s true what they say about the endorphins.
*Becoming more politically (locally and globally) literate and involved. Now that I’m in my 40s, I’m feeling the call of the larger purpose, and I plan to roll with it.
*Acknowledging all of my life’s amazing, smart, and fabulous people in small, thoughtful ways.
Of course, there are things that I would change (I suppose, resolve), but that’s a list for another day. Today is about peace, promise, and potential.
