Fitting in

One thing I enjoyed about watching Star Trek was that there were all sorts of characters and civilizations. The barber was blue. The Klingons had ridges on their foreheads. Spock had pointed ears. Geordi wore a visor that enabled him to see. Data was a pale-skinned android who wanted to be human. Differences were a given, sometimes commented on, sometimes the central point of the story, but most often just accepted. 

We spend a great deal of our lives trying to fit in, to be like everyone else, to be invited to the cool table in the lunchroom. Even if you are with the 'in crowd,' I've learned that as soon as you have three people in a space, there will eventually be a division resulting in a duo and an outcast. Over time, who is in and who is out, who sides with who shifts. It's part of being human. In the animal world it is more visceral and has to do with survival. The strongest duo carries on and leaves the weaker behind. Civilization is supposed to be better than that.

During the past year, the climate in our country has highlighted our differences - race, status, wealth, philosophies, beliefs, locale, gender, abilities. It has also brought to the forefront the fact that the barriers that once so visibly existed and that divided us - the Jim Crow laws, redlining, quotas, norms, fears - simply shifted into subtle rather than blatant dividers. Saying it another way, the bridges we thought we'd made as a people, as a culture, connecting us across all those differences are not very sturdy. They are surface bridges, not stable below the waterline. Unfortunately, it is what is below the waterline that matters the most, that provides the foundation on which all our "we are the world" rhetoric must stand. 

So, perhaps all this turmoil is a good thing. It makes us face and work at the hardest stuff. To be honest. To verbalize basic beliefs. Do we really mean health care for all? Nutritious food for the hungry? Are we our brother's keeper or does he need to pull himself up by his bootstraps so we only embrace him standing up and not when he is down? Do we assume the best or the worst? As I said, this not easy. The questions are difficult. The consequences will impact and define each of us. Each of us needs to do more than grumble. We need to get down to our own basics and ask, in our own world, where does everyone fit in? Once we have an answer, we need to make our stand.

Marilyn

Waiting for the tow truck

Years ago, on vacation in New Zealand, as we were leaving a B&B heading to town to catch a tour of Milford Sound and the beautiful fjords, I backed the car over something.  We were stuck. Luckily, we were at a working farm, and the owners got one of their tractors and remedied the situation quickly. I have had a couple of cars that required tows as they began to fail. A second tow was an alert that I needed to make a change.  Many television shows have a puzzle for contestants to solve. We sit in our living rooms and watch people get stuck. Sometimes we try to offer advise, yelling at the set for them to move certain pieces or pick a specific letter. We have a different perspective on what they are doing wrong and can help. We are, in essence, trying to be their tow truck.

Often we can be or feel stuck. Stuck in traffic. Stuck in certain patterns or routines or comfort zones. Stuck in unhealthy dysfunctional relationships or in our safe aloneness. Sometimes people close to us put and keep us in stuck conditions. Sometimes they can be the way out. It can be hard to face the first and just as hard to take their hand for the second in an effort to escape, to change.

There are two parts to the condition of stuck. The first is the getting there and the second is the getting un-. Both have their challenges. It can be hard to recognize our stuck-ness. There may be a sense of discomfort or boredom or we may be living in fear. There may be the why-rock-the-boat syndrome. We live in a world of rapid change, so we cling to the familiar as long as we can. But, I'll bet you can, without much thought, list a couple areas of your life you would like to be different. You've probably even tried a few things but reverted to former behaviors. You need a tow truck. Look for someone you trust to help. See this week if you are somehow in need of a tow and if you can be someone else's tow truck.

Marilyn

Take a break

When I was an IBEW/CWA (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers/ Communications Workers of America) union member working for Illinois Bell, our work day included a scheduled 15 minute break in the morning and afternoon. And, believe me, you took your break and you took it on time, because if you didn't, it screwed up the workflow of the whole office. One of our requirements in my office now is that everyone has to take five consecutive business days off sometime in the calendar year. While most financial services organizations require this for people in specific jobs so that their books can be audited in their absence, for us, it is mostly about work/life balance for everyone.

In this day of work emails on my cellphone, which is also my only phone, it is difficult to not give into the temptation to stay in touch, to keep on top of things every day, at all times of the day. When I do take a week off, it is usually several days before I sense a change in rhythm and am able to not be in work and office mode. We have all known workaholics who never really do take a break. Whether out of fear that it might be discovered they are really dispensable, or because they are like Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory, who, when forced to take a vacation didn't know what to do. I think that is sad. Those early labor bargainers had it right: we all do need to take a break.

Studies show that productivity goes up when workers have a break in their routine. Students do better with a variety of subjects, not just topics they are interested in. Holidays, autumn and spring breaks give teachers and students a chance to regroup. Rules in sports provide quarters or innings or taking turns so that athletes, both pro and amateur, do not just keep going and going, since people are not the energizer bunny. Interior decorators include a contrasting color, knowing that such a break brings drama or is pleasing to the eye. Plays come in acts and concerts have intermissions.

We wait for a break in the weather, in traffic, from a run of bad luck. We roll our eyes indicating that universal 'give me a break' sigh when someone drones on and on. One friend encourages us to give another friend - or ourselves - a break. Whatever you spend the majority of time doing each day this week, plan to give yourself a break on whatever level you need that to mean. Stop. Breathe. Rest. Or, stop being so hard on yourself. See if it makes a difference.

Marilyn

Down the aisle

Perhaps you have a memory of being lost as a child. Mine includes an image of the shelf of canned green beans in an aisle in Loblaw's, our local grocery store, and a clear recollection of the momentary panic of being alone unexpectedly. But, after that initial fear, there was a sense of adventure and freedom, probably because it was a familiar place. My time of freedom was short-lived. I don't know if the situation arose because I was bored and wandered off or if my mother left me behind, but the result was the same. At four years old I'd experienced my first independence in the outside world.

We walk down many aisles in our lifetime. Joyful ceremonies, like graduations or weddings include pomp and circumstance. Entertainment and sports events may be in a larger venue but there is a celebratory atmosphere. Solemn gatherings, such as funerals or corporate meetings when things aren't going so well, have many of the same elements but the tone is totally different. These events include some choreography and lots of traditions and bring friend, family and stranger together in a common experience.

When we are the "star" of the show, such as the bride or the pupil called to the front of the class, all eyes are on us, but most of the time, we walk down the aisle unnoticed. We take stock of our surroundings, hoping the person next to us may merely nod. In my experience, long gone are the days of interesting conversations with the stranger next to us on the bus or plane. I have season tickets to the Chicago Sinfonietta and it took several concerts before I introduced myself to the woman who was routinely next to me. We have both since changed our seats, but we still nod or chat about the music out in the rotunda during intermission. Now I sit next to a shy tween who I've learned plays the cello.

This topic came to mind during my recent vacation. My flight to Columbus was nearly full and I was lucky enough to be among the first 50 boarding the plane. You know the scenario. We queued up and then waited in the long walkway into the aircraft. We greeted the attendant stationed at the door, at the beginning of the aisle down the center of the plane. The person in front of me stopped at his selected seat and began to broadly slip off his backpack, forcing me to step back or get hit in the face, starting a slight chain reaction. After settling in my aisle seat I avoided eye contact with those still boarding, hoping no one would sit next to me. Once in the air, the aisle dances began as people got up to move around and drink service started. As soon as the plane docked at the gate, everyone was out of their seat, scrambling for their place in the aisle, but again, only to stand and wait.

From my first independence to this last journey, I've learned that aisles can be orderly or messy, quiet or boisterous, straight or crooked, bordered with flowers or stark and dangerous, smooth or slippery to walk on. I've learned to maneuver alone, with a companion or in a group. I've wandered looking for a spot and been escorted by flashlight. I know which aisles I usually avoid or frequent at stores. This weekend I enjoyed the carefully designed aisles at Garfield Park Conservatory, and by the time you read this, celebrities will have walked the red carpet to the Oscars, that aisle of recognition. 

An aisle is simply a path between or along something that allows us to get from one place to another. Think of how many you walk down on a daily basis and take a minute to appreciate its familiarity or newness, its design or efficiency. Then think about perhaps finding a new one to explore.

Marilyn

Trips

There have been a few times when I realized I was on a trip of a lifetime, a one-time great adventure. But last week, when some friends left for their annual Caribbean cruise, and another was on vacation in New Zealand, I tripped on the sidewalk. From that I can at least report that a skinned knee and bruised hand are slightly less messy under layers of winter clothing. Some people trip over their own feet, as do puppies who have yet to grow into theirs. And, speaking of feet, I envy those agile folks who can trip the light fantastic out on the dance floor.

Those of us of a certain age remember, perhaps from first hand experience, a psychedelic trip or the use of the phrase, "What a trip!" Pay attention to news conferences and you may hear a question designed to trip someone up or a trip of the tongue in response to something asked. Life transitions, such as going away to college, represent life altering trips. Often these musings are a trip down memory lane.

On Saturday, my latest adventure began when the taxi driver texted to say he was here. I looked out and saw he was parked at the wrong address down the street. I called to tell him to turn around and come 3 houses down. He then couldn't get the car started. A kind neighbor drove me to the airport where, being the threat that I am, I was patted down and swiped for explosive residue. But the flight left on time, arrived early and my suitcase came off the conveyor belt.

Artists sometimes have a clear vision of the piece they are creating, but often allow the process to determine where and how the color, the words, the motions lead based on their starting point. This musing started with the juxtaposition of two kinds of trips and led down a path of common uses of that word, be it noun or verb. I was lucky enough this month, when I got antsy to be somewhere else, to have schedules mesh to be able to make a quick trip to visit family. 

As lovely as that is, I think one challenge we all face today is to find meaningful ways of being on this journey of life, of being an engaged traveler, a lifelong learner with companions that make us laugh and make us think. There are too many distractions, too many side trips available that are not helpful. I suggest that we all make a concerted effort this week to recognize one thing that we know trips us up in terms of how we use our time and resources and say, 'been there, done that' and focus on something else. Before too long, something may happen to cut this part of our trip short, and we need to make sure we've made the most of where we are and what we are doing now.

Marilyn

Nothing new under the sun

While the phrase "nothing new under the sun" comes from the book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible, I am currently reading the Psalms. The contents of both of those books can be viewed as poetry, prayer, journals or song lyrics. King David is credited with penning many of the Psalms around 1000 BCE, and his son, Solomon, with Ecclesiastes. After glancing through the headlines one day last week, I settled down for some quiet time and the words of Psalm 140 jumped off the page at me. I saw that another writer had scribed a musing I wanted to share with you. The text below is from a newer translation of the Bible called The Message, by Eugene H. Peterson.

God, get me out of here, away from this evil,

protect me from these vicious people.

All they do is think up new ways to be bad,

they spend their days plotting war games.

They practice the sharp rhetoric of hate and hurt,

speak venomous words that maim and kill.

God, keep me out of the clutch of these wicked ones,

protect me from these vicious people,

Stuffed with self-importance, they plot ways to trip me up,

determined to bring me down.

These crooks invent traps to catch me

and do their best to incriminate me.

I prayed, "God, you're my God!

Listen, God! Mercy!

God, my Lord, Strong Savior,

protect me when the fighting breaks out!

Don't let the wicked have their way, God,

don't give them an inch!"

These troublemakers all around me - 

let them drown in their own verbal poison.

Let God pile hellfire on them,

let him bury them alive in crevasses!

These loudmouths - 

don't let them be taken seriously,

These savages - 

let the Devil hunt them down!

I know that you, God, are on the side of victims,

that you care for the rights of the poor,

And I know that the righteous personally thank you,

that good people are secure in your presence.

It doesn't matter whether you are agnostic or a strong believer in a Higher Power, a searcher or preacher, whether you see these words as divinely inspired or simply a cry from the heart. What does matter, at least to me, is that through the ages, other civilizations, other cultures, other peoples have experienced what our newspapaers and sound bytes scream at us today. They survived. So will we.

Marilyn

Come Saturday Morning

On Saturday mornings my dad would go 10 miles across town to pick up his mother and Jennie, her cousin, so they could spend the rest of the weekend at our house. For two years, when I was four and five, most weeks I accompanied him on those trips. We often stopped at a hardware store on the way because he needed something for one of his chores related to the house or the yard.

Walking into this fascinating foreign space was exciting. The places I went with my mother during the week - the grocery, bakery, beauty or dress shoppes - were female territories. Even the butcher, with the sawdust on the floor, was welcoming to women. But, the minute my dad and I entered the hardware store, I was in a new masculine world. The ceilings seemed taller and the stacked shelves went to the top. The aisles were narrow. The smells were different, rather musty, but not an unpleasant old odor. I would follow in his wake down those mysterious rows, feeling safe. Little girls were greeted at the long wooden counter with a warm, "Now, who do we have here?" 

I look back and realize that I remember those mornings so fondly because I had very little one-on-one time with my father. Such was not the language or parenting style of the time. But in the car, with me kneeling on the front seat leaning forward with my hands on the dashboard so I could see out the windshield, we would talk. Not of anything important, just keeping company. Getting to and seeing grandma was the icing on the cake of my adventurous morning.

All too soon Jennie and grandma died and I discovered Saturday morning cartoons, but I never lost a fascination with hardware stores. Big box chains like Lowe's have not eliminated all of the old fashioned style places. There is one in Forest Park that has a hammer for a front door handle and, just like the small ACE in Berwyn, these places blend the old with the more modern necessities. Besides plumbing and electrical sections, my favorite Menards in Hodgkins has plants, clothing and groceries. Oh, and someone playing the piano to entertain shoppers. At the Home Depot in Cicero you can get a hot dog or churro on your way in or out.

As I headed into the city last Saturday morning to visit a friend, I was thinking of simpler times, of mornings past, and remembered those trips to grandma's house. I continued on my way with a smile on my face. Perhaps, in these difficult uncertain times, you too need to search for something warm and calming.

Marilyn