I had such a fun morning doing nothing but sitting outside and reading the paper as the day heated up. I get the New York Times every so often – the $6 cost for the Sunday edition is a bit over-the-top but I like the writing, the variety of topics and a more substantive discussion on…well, almost everything. This post may sound like an ode to the New York Times but perhaps I am just more familiar with it than the Boston Globe or Washington Post. Plus, I can find it easily in Northern California. It’s a little odd that the weakest section is the nod to NorCal news…

Such a delight. Such a relief.  Escape.

Today’s offerings – aside from robust and depressing national/international news, other news of interest:

• News:
  • Disney Customer ServiceConsulting
    • At my workplace, winners of an annual type of Employee of the Year award get to go to the Disney Institute and learn about Customer Care and Service, a big topic at our organization. I love writing nominations for co-workers! It makes me feel good to work at a place where I can name 25 wonderful people right off the bat who show a lot of heart on the job
    • Oh…what a lot of $$$ Disney makes to recommend teachers speak to young students at eye-level but I guess when you walk the talk about customers being the one to run the show, you can’t beat Disney.
• Georgia (Eastern Europe) – They are building a new city on a swamp. Should we tell them about Natomas? How about New Orleans? Another work reference for me since some of our staff just got back from Tbisili, Georgia where they actually have an Elvis Café.
• How Whole Foods can influence an industry beyond charging exorbitant prices for products (e.g seafood industry)
• Sports: Being a runner and having just listened to Born To Run about ultra-marathoning, the front page Sports Section story on Botswana runner Amantle Montsho just made me want to root for her in the Olympics if she makes it there. I hope she does.
• Opinions/Essays: Doppelgangers, new shades of feminism, and essays you don’t find in the typical newspapers: Not teaching “to the test,” drugging soldiers, a psychotherapist calling out colleagues. Okay, I also admit to swooning at words I might have to look up in a dictionary
• Society and fashion: Can’t overlook the silly engagement/marriage pieces that try to make something that happens to millions of people every year more important to the singular couple(s) who makes it into the New York Times…my heart goes out to the poor entry-level writer who is given this assignment but hey, it’s the NYT! Not a bad gig.
• Advertising: There is some awesome advertising in the NYT and as today is Earth Day and I’ve done the unconscionable by purchasing a hefty paper product on April 22, it gave me great amusement to see how Tiffany & Co wrote their social responsibility ad. (I do find sarcastic tendencies to up a notch after this particular Sunday reading…) Perhaps Tiffany & Co really is working on this piece of their business but I just want to say my favorite Tiffany thing is the cute little box and tuxedoed handsome guys handing out the boxes with a Finisher necklace at the end of the NIKE marathon in San Francisco. Now THAT’S something to run for along with a cure for blood cancers. I – and am sure many others – have re-used that box in personal recycling efforts for many years. So maybe that’s a social responsibility angle Tiffany & Co hasn’t thought of yet…
• NYT Magazine – the anxiety issue…sigh…so brainy, funny, sad, intriguing especially if you don’t deal with a lot of anxiety but more the hit-and-run kind. I really want to share with some of my anxiety prone friends but am a touch anxious it might actually increase their anxiety.
• Travel: Bend Oregon – a brewer’s paradise! Oh yes…and Ethiopia
• Arts: Shooters, buccaneers, aerialists, musicians and reviews of plays, places, dances I will never see
• Styles: Friends squabbling about “the right way” to parent and not even a mention of those who choose to vaccinate and those who won’t. There are lots of “pre-children” friendships that won’t survive that conversation.
• Book Review: if you love to read, it’s fun to peruse this section even if you would never consider buying any of the books. The essay on E.B.White’s (Elwyn Brooks!) Charlotte’s Web assured that I will read that childhood favorite again soon. Found it interesting that the whole back-and-forth discussion on e-publishing industry was not in this section, especially on Earth Day! Wait – I don’t think I read one thing about Earth Day in today’s paper beyond the ads – now that’s something to cogitate (a person just tends to use more better words after reading the New York Times…)
• Review: the article winner of the day for me: The Flight From Conversation. The last 15 years have totally changed the way people interact – including me – where technology rules the conversation and unfortunately the relationships. Another work-related issue – technology can not replace relationships although for many people it sadly has. What a relief text-messaging and Facebook/Twitter have become for people who want to avoid conversation at all costs…

I think one of the things I like best about reading the New York Times on a Sunday morning is buckets of coffee and conversation generated by good writing, thoughtful essays, and the game time given to topics sitting on the bench at other publications.

April is Donate Life Month. As of March 2012* there are :

113,115 Patients Waiting

63,016 Multicultural Patients

1,801 Pediatric Patients

There were 28,535 Organ Transplants Performed in 2011 and 14,144 Organ Donors in 2011

In California, visit www.donatelifecalifornia.org for more information or for national information go to www.donate life.net

Please don’t make your families go through the heartbreak of losing you AND trying to figure out what your thoughts were on organ donation. Make the decision now – for them, for you, for the many people who might be given life even if you have lost yours.

I can’t imagine that my aging, irradiated and chemo-ed organs would be good for anyone but I’ll let doctors make that decision when I’m gone. If I could help someone else, even if it was a bridge until a better match could be found, I’m in.

How about you? Whatever you decide, let your family know so they don’t have to guess.

* from the Donate Life website

I started April with a bodacious goal that just kept growing. First it was “some form of exercise every day” then I added “do some kind of exercise for specific areas – abs, upper body – every day” and grew it more, add “some kind of mental gymnastics” plus the ‘ol standby, “drink more water” and might as well throw in “meditate” – the list expands by the day! As you can see, the audacity of my bodaciousness (yes, I know it’s not a word) continues to grow and of course, the one I should focus on the most if you have spent any time at all in my very active brain is meditation so maybe this week…I can focus to that one. Just five minutes, once a day.

This is so hard for me: to be quiet and still. Activity? I am pretty good at that! But stillness? Not so much.

As work revs up and the goals there continue to stretch me, I want to take time to be still…just five minutes. Supposedly, meditation can help you focus more and work smarter so I am going to try. I wonder if I can really do it?

“Be still and know that I am God” (Ps 46:10)

Every mother – with children living or not – will tell you we “carry” our children forever. We speak about this more from an emotional and metaphorical perspective than scientific. This article talks about fetal stem cells and how these cells continue to hang out in “mommies” after our children are born, grown and receiving Social Security. See what you think!

http://boingboing.net/2012/01/03/cells.html

Part of me FOREVER…

Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center has a bold mission statement: To eliminate cancer and related diseases as a cause of human suffering and death. Think on that for a moment…now THAT’S a bodacious goal.

I have had a lot of dogs but only one Bodacious.

Bodacious

We called him Bodie.  Big, bodacious attitude and the name fit him just fine. Bodie is creating a ruckus somewhere now in doggie heaven.

Definitely not bodacious but cute

I’m thinking I want a bodacious goal, too. Maybe not as bodacious as Fred Hutch but still a bodacious goal for me. Working on it.

What bodacious goals do YOU aspire to attain or maybe just to voice aloud?

*bold, impressive, noteworthy

I found TheJackB blog through Copyblogger last week and am enjoying it. He’s a dad and writer. He writes about life, therefore all sorts of things. His recent entry – a “look-back” – got me looking back. It’s called “Will they know me? I am going to die” and here’s the link:

http://www.thejackb.com/2010/07/19/will-they-know-me-i-am-going-to-die-2/#respond

Having faced that question in a very real sense when diagnosed with leukemia and my children were 8 and 10 (again when they were 10 and 12) I came to the conclusion at the time that the only legacy I could leave my daughters was love. Yes, life is a Beatles song. It’s all about love.

In facing the grief of dying young, of being absent from their lives, I’m not sure my question was about legacy or them knowing me but about me not knowing them. Not being at the life party. In fact, I’m pretty sure that was the core.

When I looked around me at other moms facing death who were making videos, sharing family recipes, imparting wisdom, and writing birthday cards for years to come; I just felt paralyzed. Oh the pressure! How could I write to my daughters five or ten years from that moment when truly I wouldn’t know what they were dealing with at that time in their lives? Who they had grown to be and how they step out into the world? Would my perceptions of who they were at 8 and 10 be in harmony of who they felt themselves to be at 18 and 20? Could I potentially limit their hopes and dreams by holding them to their dead mom’s vision of them at 8 and 10?  Could I possibly cause them disappointment because they hadn’t lived up to some fantasy of their mother’s? (As in…I know you can do anything you want! You can be on the national soccer team! You can be the first woman President!) It was all just too much. To face mortality AND give lifelong inspiration to my daughters at the same time.

So instead… I poured myself into them each day I was given; hoping love would somehow bridge the years should I die. *

I am so happy and grateful I got to stick around! My daughters continue to light up my life in ways I never could have imagined 15 years ago. And truly…love IS what it’s all about.

Check out TheJackB blog – I think you’ll enjoy it.

Okay…full disclosure. I did succumb to the notion that I HAD to leave something for them, you know, a little note about how special and wonderful each was so they could tuck it away in a special place and review when life got hard – yes, I watch a lot of weepy dramas. 

About a month ago, I decided I needed a running goal. I don’t know why I decided that. My workdays are chock-full of goals and when I get home, I generally am sick of striving. When I open the door, and see my smiling husband and excited dogs, I am a dedicated believer in cocooning and relaxation. This has become a habit. Once I get home, my desires don’t go far beyond parking myself on the couch with hubby and dogs, reading if I can keep my eyes open and following up on the necessary mundane tasks of home. Although this is usually delightful, I needed more. I needed a goal of sorts.

I read so much about other people setting and meeting goals (perhaps I need to let Oprah go…), accomplishing wonderful things so decided it was my turn to set a random goal, making sure not to commit to anything too difficult or overwhelming because work takes care of those. This is called “The Lazy Person’s Guide to Goal Setting.” It works for me.

Seeing others meet personal goals whether it be piano recitals, a new career, mastering tai chi or yoga, sewing, losing weight, completing a triathlon, volunteering every weekend for a year, whatever it may be, is inspiring. My goal in reality was a weak one but a goal nonetheless. So in the slightly watered-down spirit of setting meek goals and sharing that only with my hubby, I decided I would run eight 10K runs (6.2 miles) in a month. This was not a huge goal; basically, two longer runs every weekend. I knew I could do it, but it would demand more discipline to a personal goal than I had given in awhile.

During the week, I often leave home in the dark and return in the dark so running is haphazard. My coordination isn’t great in daylight much less the dark.  I’m not joining a gym (yet) or getting up at 5 am for anyone. I’m not losing sleep over an arbitrary goal that affects no one, in fact a goal of 8 hours of sleep a night would be a lovely goal. Beyond those considerations, it boils down to the whole commitment and discipline thing.

I’m happy to share now that I met the goal. Yesterday, I did a little celebration dance with soggy shoes before entering the house. The weather this last weekend was a little wild with drenching rain, even some hail, but I strapped on my running shoes and went for it…unaware I had already met my random goal. The runs this weekend were actually runs #9 and #10.

Next month’s goal is learning to read a calendar. Do you have any goals for the next month?

2.18            6.33

2.19              6.2

2.25             6.22

2.26             6.8

3.3               7.01

3.4              8.57

3.10           6.45

3.11            7.50

3.17            7.40

3.18            6.50

My brother Greg and I had an hour-long coast-to-coast conversation a few nights ago. He is perhaps the only one of my many East Coast siblings that I can call after 7 pm Pacific Standard Time. Everyone else is asleep.

Greg and I both like to write so he shared with me an amazing poem he wrote for his daughters and nieces. He hasn’t shared it with them yet because he’s still tweaking it, still waiting for the right time. Steeping it, like tea. Aging it, like wine. A part of me wants to shout – “Share it with them already! It’s steeped long enough!” but I know better. He’ll share it when he is ready, when he has crafted it to his liking. The poem is filled with anguish and compassion, strength and hope. Most families have painful stories at one point or another and the death of Greg’s son at 17 years old and our nephew at 19 years old, are two of ours. Brendan and Liam’s strong, amazing sisters carry a shared pain of lost brothers, a pain most of us can’t truly understand.

Greg laments his lack of discipline believing it keeps him from becoming the writer he would like to be. Yet he forgets that out of his pain and suffering has come amazing work. There’s a certain amount of discipline involved just to get something out. We both know there’s lots of crappy work, too, but that’s what writing involves: a lot of crap and occasionally, something brilliant, or at least good. It amazes me how much bad work you often have to sift through to get to a sentence you really like, much less an entire poem or essay, article or book.  Panning for gold, some days just a nugget.

Through writing, Greg wrestles with indescribable pain; he throws words at paper (or perhaps a computer), explodes with anger and sadness, slashes words out, deftly inserts others, or adds music to make poems into raps or songs. This kind of writing – journaling in a way – is therapeutic and lifesaving. A gift whether it’s shared or not. A gift because sometimes a writer has to write it out much like others fight it out, run it out, or pray it out. Whatever works.

We talked about the process of writing. First getting words out, then crafting a message if we have one; like most writers, we find the editing process a lot less fun than the writing process.  Laborious. Looking for the perfect word. Sometimes editing so much we just throw the piece away, disgusted with our inability to convey exactly what we want to say. We agree: discipline IS required during the writing process. How grateful we are when something just flows out, perfectly acceptable, in no need of edits! A rare and delightful moment before we start to wonder if it’s really good or someone else tells us it’s shit. Or says some stupid, vague phrase like, “That’s nice,” having no idea of what it took from us to write it. It takes strength to let others have their harsh critiques but not let ourselves be crucified by it. To let a piece sit and simmer before coming back to it with more objective eyes. To let it go. Move on to the next piece. It’s not like we are looking for a Pulitzer or Nobel! Sometimes we can take ourselves so seriously.

Writing from the heart can be a lonely experience and generally we are our worse critics. Blowing off steam with someone else who likes to write is such fun before heading back to the blank page-or-screen refreshed and ready for what’s next. Surrendering ideas that limit, like notions of perfection or the reactions of other people, frees us.

After an hour of hashing out how we feel about writing, Greg and I both sigh, then laugh and experience the moment of grace that comes when two people realize how shared experiences – we didn’t even know we shared – lead to this shared moment. Thank God he doesn’t go to bed at 9!  I would not have wanted to miss this conversation with my brother. Connection – over simple things or profound events that change lives – is a gift.

What shared experience have you had with a family member lately that was a surprise to you?

Aw, c’mon, Westminister. The Pekingese? You’ve got to be kidding me.  The little Robo-Mop won Best of Show with his hair in desperate need of conditioning. Yeah, the cute little pink tongue contrasted well with the black face and frizzy hair but really, this is a DOG show. Little Malachy could pass for a cat, a Kate Spade purse or a chamois towel. How the judge could have chosen this feline for the best DOG in show astounds me. So many to choose from – REAL dogs. She had the German Shepherd – stately even though I always want to lift the hips up (yes, I know it’s the “standard” but it just looks a little off) and the cute little Dalmation, a breed that has never won the Westminster Dog Show. C’mon! The breed that has entertained children around the world for years upon years in 101 Dalmatians and is the mascot for fire stations across the country has never won Westminster. That’s criminal! Then you had the Doberman – a breed I usually have little affection for but Fifinator?! With a name like that, she was so ready to be a winner plus earned extra points because she didn’t look as if she would bite your head off like a lot of Dobies do. Another small dog finalist – but at least one with a DOG personality – was the wire-haired dachshund. He at least aspired to be a dog. Maybe even a big dog. You could tell. This dog would scurry down the rabbit hole and pull that sweet, precious bunny out for stew. Rounding off the seven finalists were the Kerry Blue Terrier (I dare you to say you didn’t want to pet those fleecy legs of his – he’s a lamb!) and a gorgeous Irish Setter, a crazy breed to be sure but again, let’s talk about doggie personality; the Setter has it. You could see it – that dog would be down the street and a mile away before you knew the gate had been ajar for all of two seconds. So let’s see: we have the Dobie, Dalmation, Setter, Dachshund, Shep, Kerry Blue Terrier and Robo-Mop. My husband and I took stabs at guessing the winner even though he already knew it because of damn Twitter. During the commercials which took 3 minutes even on Tivo, we guessed every breed to be the winner…except the one who won. Because it is just so wrong to pick a cat as the winner of a dog show. Just wrong. You mark my words. Malachy is going to be in a Sheba commercial next year, sitting on a cushion and everyone is going to think “There’s one ugly cat.”

AP photo/ Craig Rutt (2.15.12)

Yesterday, one of the kindest men I know told me how he was cultivating a ruthless attitude. We looked at each other and then burst out laughing. This gracious man doesn’t have a ruthless cell in his body. The funny thing is…I’m trying to do the same. But mine doesn’t have to do with finding time to save the world like he is doing. I’m just trying to edit the damn story from 300 words to 100 words. Get outta my way you totally unruthless Golden Retrievers and give me a pen – I am going to be RUTHLESS today!

*Having or showing no pity or compassion for others; cruel (Vicnotes addendum; attitude needed to kill the unneeded adverbs, adjectives, prepositions, phrases, etc. Out you go!)

* Ruthless Rye IPA is also a new Sierra Nevada brew – delicious!