Category Archives: To Think About

How can love survive? Many think love happens willy-nilly, but some authorities believe they should control the emotion.

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lovelocksLove at first sight. Many of us, at least the very young and very naïve, believe it happens. But whether love occurs with the speed of lightning or following long and complex efforts at a relationship, most agree romantic love exists. Being humans our expressions of love, our fascination with romance take many forms, most of them relatively harmless. We shower gifts of jewelry on our beloved, share preferences in food and wine, proclaim our feelings on social media. We search for examples of love in films, music, art, and enjoy emotions vicariously.

Recently on opposite sides of the globe, however, authorities are intervening in physical demonstrations of attraction. First up, Vietnam, where the Publishing and Printing Department is cracking down on “clichéd, useless, obscene and offensive” works that are “poisoning” the youth. This same claim has been used off and on in the U.S. during various censorship battles. Furthermore, “government needs to regulate an activity related to culture and people’s way of thinking so that it can benefit people.”

If only. If only all of humanity could agree on a method to truly benefit people. Unfortunately, down through the ages, this activity always seems to include punishing, even destroying those who don’t concur with authorities, like Nazis and various religious fundamentalists.

Let’s move on to Paris, where the city is removing locks from the Pont des Arts and other bridges on which star-struck lovers have attached fixtures as symbols of their relationships. A book and film started the craze in about 2006, and thousands of visitors adopted the fad. However, now sections of fencing on bridges are crumbling under the weight, posing a safety risk as well as “degradation of property heritage,” not to mention problems associated with graffiti, pickpockets and street vendors.

At least in this example of anti-romanticism, official action carries some weight. The equivalent of some 20 elephants to be accurate.

Other cities face the problem ways different from removing locks. In Rome city officials created official spots—steel posts with chains on the bridge—to eliminate damage to the infrastructure.

I’m not optimistic either activity will control the interest in and demonstration of romance. Humans are nothing if not creative. We’ve been dodging censors for millennia and finding creative ways to express emotion even longer. However, the attempts at restraint are ever-changing and as entertaining as the many paths of love.

love, censorship, Paris, Vietnam, locks, bridges, books, romances

Keeping pace with social change: Women accept a brave new world, while writers of women’s fiction wonder how to make headway

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summer of loveOur great-grandmothers would be shaking their heads in dismay if they could visit our times. Internet, Twitter, Pinterest, smart phones, text messages, they wouldn’t know where to begin to stay in touch with their families and friends, let alone how to use these tools. Change has become so constant and so fast, even people on the shady side of forty can lose their balance in the net.

No one in restaurants, stores, or theaters is minus a device over which they bend their heads and wave their fingers. Married couples spend more time online than they do in bed with one another. I can barely go shopping without some seller urging me to download a new app.

However, women’s fiction by and large hasn’t adapted to this transformation, at least not to the extent I see in real life every day. Novels still focus on characters, plot, description. Although mobile phones now appear in fiction, and a woman in danger turns immediately to a cell, few heroines or heroes spend the amount of time online that occurs in daily life. Human interaction requires face-to-face contact, if not body-to-body; and text messages or Tweets are used, if at all, as quirky plot developments..

The array of communications methods mirrors what seems to be occurring in women’s personal lives. If experts, along with films, television, and songs, are to be believed, women are leaping in and out of bed (or in cars or on tables or outdoors) with enthusiasm and are increasingly casual in their sexual encounters, if not outright promiscuous.

Why then do novels continue to advocate stable, monogamous relationships? While wedding rings may be far fewer in stories than in the 20th century, the preponderance of women’s fiction has the heroine and hero in a happy clinch by the end, not a clutch of partners.

So how can the poor writer decide how to publish a story and what equipment to feature? Should we write in 148 character series, as one novel I read did in an introduction to each section? Are young readers going to dump fiction unless it’s available on phones? The phenomenon in Japan is the cell phone novel with chapters of less than 200 words. Are our characters moving toward no physical contact, just phone sex?

One thing’s for sure. In fiction, the chaste (and chased) virgin of fifty years ago, frequently a nurse, secretary, or teacher, is far outnumbered by her more adventuresome sisters. They may not be “loose women,” but they’ve been around the block. Plots are reflecting reality, as studies and surveys show attitudes toward casual sex and multiple partners continue to become more liberal.

And yet. . .and yet. At the conclusion of the adventure, whether the novel is a sweet romance, erotic, historical, sci fi, literary, steamy or whatever, everyone’s still just looking for love. Real love. True love. Which continues to mean one partner, even if he’s a vampire.

Are you suffering at the hands of stress carriers? They create way more problems than they solve, so don’t march to their beat.

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stress

Are you a stress carrier or suffering at the hands of one? These are people who waltz around creating stress for other people. Frequently they’re bosses, life partners, supervisors. The ones who remind you over and over again about looming deadlines, point out miniscule and irrelevant flaws or mistakes in your work, and somehow make details they notice more important than anything you’ve observed.

They often aren’t instructing or improving themselves. By dumping on you, they transfer the concern off their own to-do list to an on-going nag list; so they can recite it to you over and over. The technique of one boss, whom I adored, was to make so many assignments with so many elements, that I constantly felt I was running a marathon. He’d simply run down his register weekly and ask for results. In this instance his approach bore fruit because I worked my butt off. When I finally left, I was replaced by three people.

Occasionally they’re friends or peers, not superiors. I heard of one stress carrier, a musician, who was able to have the entire band, including the director, jumping to her beat, by maintaining a litany of complaints about deadlines, whines over marketing efforts, disagreements about performance venues. She was disturbing the equilibrium of the whole organization.

Trouble is, the perspective of stress carriers sounds absolutely reasonable. Obtain bids for a printing job? A sensible request. Until the specifications, numbers, sizes and every other feature are amended over and over. A spouse who can’t decide on a vacation until you provide twenty options for lodging falls into this category. And in the wake of these demands, you’re sucked into negative feelings of doom, failure, helplessness, because emotions can be contagious.

I and a few others are currently working on an event with a stress carrier. Over the period of weeks, she asked us to develop a plan, critiqued each point, changed the parameters, talked to each of us independently, dwelt on particulars, told us why our suggestions wouldn’t work, then decided on something completely different. Each idea, every step was tweaked and re-tweaked until I couldn’t remember what, if anything, had been decided. Each of her reports seemed more dismal than the previous. Finally she ignored our advice and made her own decision. For which we were so grateful, we simply agreed with her.

I think I used to be a stress carrier myself. I remember making list after list, segueing into sub-lists, printed in different colors, with staggered and intersecting deadlines. These I’d distribute to others involved in a project, updated regularly. I now wonder if I caused more confusion and chaos than I resolved.

I feel so much better now that I finally realized I don’t have to do all the worrying of the world. Let loose and leave alone. I’ve learned to simply carry on carrying on. People usually can figure out what they need to do.

So if you’re dealing with a stress carrier, remember this. Nothing you do will relieve their anxiety or meet unreasonable standards, so stop trying to do the impossible.

Also remember this: “stressed” is “desserts” spelled backwards. If you can’t escape a stress carrier, treat yourself to something delish.

What I’ve learned, I think, about helping kids (and others) in pain, in seven steps

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bullyA friend’s teenager recently became the victim of ridicule and taunting. Not a little sarcasm or practical jokes. Brutal, denigrating comments that spread like a virus through his school. A scenario that all parents dread. No one wants his child to be the brunt, or hurt, or the prey.

For more years than I care to remember, I always thought a situation like this called for sympathy and protection for the target. I provided lots of both plus advice out the ying-yang.

I’ve gradually changed my mind. Remembering how my kids learned to walk, they fell plenty of times. Certainly I tried to prevent them tumbling out a window or down a flight of stairs, but I knew bruises and cuts were inevitable, and that’s the way they gained experience. Ditto bike riding, skating, skiing.

Our job as adults is not to insure children are never hurt; it’s to help them learn how to handle the pain. Not to rush in and defend them or solve the problem. Experience and thought are great teachers, even through heartache.

We do have techniques we can use that might smooth the path a bit:

* Some kind of positive action almost always helps the sufferer deal better with the situation. My guess is he gains a sense of control over his life. Again, we can help him identify methods. This turns the pain outward rather than inward, where it might fester and cause problems such as suicide attempts. Ideas: write a story expressing emotion, help another kid in trouble, draw a picture of the incident.

* Almost never does a casualty want advice. He wants acknowledgement of his pain, feedback on his perceptions, and assurance someone cares. This goes for adults as well as kids. How often have you told a friend what to do to get rid of the jerk she’s with? Has she ever listened and acted?

* Asking questions is almost always better than making statements. “What did you think?” “How did you feel?” “What else might you have done?” “What could you do if this happens again?” Then you’re using the incident as a teaching opportunity. Educators call this “the teachable moment.”

* Bullying, torment, discrimination, and abuse are universal. We can’t eliminate them. Acknowledge they can be learning experiences with positive results, as we gain strength and knowledge about human relationships. Such diverse resources as Harvard, the Marines, and business consultant Jim Collins mention crucible events in their work, the fires in life through which we pass and either melt or grow stronger and better. When we realize bad experiences can, indeed, help us, we may be able to pass this along to our kids.

* Humans learn so much more from failure and negatives than we do successes and positives. Appreciating this reality helps us deal with our kids’ pain. And stories about our own similar incidents (“There was the time someone called me four-eyes.” “There was the time I was the only one not invited to the party.”) can give subtle support to our kids.

* Because bullying, torment, discrimination, and abuse are universal, we need to help kids gain the tools to deal with them independently. We’re not always going to be around. Talking with them, researching resources, directing them to books, movies, and websites dealing with the topic are avenues for their adjustment.

* We all know kids learn from our examples and responses. We model our belief that positive change is possible, how to deal with rejection and failure, and the methods we use to move beyond and better.

Years ago, Rick Nelson gave the world his advice, once and always true. “But it’s all right now, I’ve learned my lesson well. You see, you can’t please everyone, so you’ve got to please yourself.”

Hey, I take my philosophy where I find it.

Remembering Mrs. Binkleman: the lasting, glorious, indelible impact of a great teacher

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teacherSuffering the blues lately, I was wishing either I was luckier or more talented in my writing or willing to work harder. Typical “feel sorry for yourself” fugue state. As I moped and moaned to myself (my partner won’t tolerate my whining to him), various words came automatically to my mind. Something about beweeping my outcast state and troubling deaf heaven with my cries. Where did that come from, I wondered.

I spared a few minutes to think, and I dredged up out of my memory an old poem that I’d been forced to memorize in school. Shakespeare.* Which led me to remember other things I’d learned by rote in the senior year of high school. Lady MacBeth’s “is this a dagger”. . . Chaucer’s “Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote”. . .Burns’ “O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us to see oursels as ithers see us!” English teacher Mrs. Binkleman ruled with a firm hand but the soul of a poet.

Unlike some students, who complained and bitched and moaned about the assignments from white-haired, long-skirted Mrs. Binkleman, I kind of enjoyed them, although I never admitted the fact. The language, the history, the door to great minds impressed me. What I didn’t expect was any kind of payback. Memorization was rote, mechanical work, no creativity and little challenge. I never imagined I’d benefit from the tasks. (An aside, she also coached us in thousands of spelling words and other strategies to help us score high on college entrance exams.)

I now seen I’ve gotten lots of rewards from my conscientiousness. The first was in college when I won two tickets to the movies on a radio show for quoting the Burns poem. Less tangible but longer-lasting are the effects when the selections come to me during interesting points in my life. I can quote them to my grandchildren as ready-made homilies. Impress acquaintances. Use them as references in my writing.

The least-anticipated has been the emotional solace they provide. The Shakespearean sonnet that I remembered continues with a comparison to what’s really important—the person the poet loves, who makes him richer than a king, something I needed to recall in the welter of my depression. Others hold equal consolation. “To be” reminds me even the mighty can be confused about the purpose of life. I even have upon occasion memorized additional short pieces I discovered on my own that hold promise of insight. Dickenson’s “Hope is the thing with feathers” and Rosetti’s “Who has seen the wind?” Memorized selections come to me when I need them.

So here’s to Mrs. Binkleman and all the teachers like her. They’ve given their students so much more than the ability to regurgitate phrases, Thank your lucky stars you had them for guidance in life and comfort for the soul. Don’t wait, like I’ve unfortunately done, until fifty years after the fact to thank them, too. Let them know now.

* Sonnet 29 (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174357)
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
       For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
       That then I scorn to change my state with kings.