MONK OR MONKEY?

MONK OR MONKEY?

Would you rather be a monk or a monkey? That strange, boldly-voiced question rang in my ears as I awoke with a startle from a dream a few mornings ago. I could make no sense of it, yet could not erase it from my mind, so I began to explore this odd combination of terms, hoping to get some insight into its meaning.

In my dictionary the word monkey immediately follows monk. I note that not only does monk resides in monkey, but also the word key, perhaps an indication that there is some key that I must discover to use to unlock this mysterious communication from my unconscious.

The dictionary defines monk as “a member of a religious community living under certain vows especially of poverty, chastity, and obedience.” A monkey is “any of various mainly long-tailed agile tree-dwelling primates,” or perhaps more to the point, “a mischievous person, especially a child (young monkey).”

My mental image of a monk does not center on poverty, chastity, or obedience, but rather is of a man dressed in a long brown robe, walking, holding a book, thinking about serious and profound matters. He is serene, studious, pragmatic, has a good sense of humor, and is of course deeply religious. He spends a lot of time in silence.

As for monkeys, my first thought is that they are playful, like children. They are active, ebullient, and exhibit what might be called a child-like intelligence. They are particularly fascinating because so much of their behavior mimics our own. Another association is what some Buddhists call “monkey mind,” that restless mental chatter caused by our thoughts as they flit aimlessly from one thing to another. One purpose of meditation is to focus and calm this monkey mind in an effort to create a more serene state of being. In this sense, as I sit in meditation, my inner monkey is striving to be more monk-like.

Yet another association is with the image of three wise monkeys: one with ears covered, Hear no evil; one with eyes covered, See no evil; and the third with mouth covered, Speak no evil. This image is thought to have originated in Japan as part of an ancient folk religion and many versions of it can be seen throughout the Far East. In some cases there is a fourth monkey with his hands tied, meaning Do no evil. This conception of wise monkeys relates directly to the monk; both represent the goal of a life devoid of evil.

So, after these reflections, what am I to make of my strange dream query? Must I choose between the monk and the monkey? I am resistant to choosing, and instead hope to combine characteristics of both these archetypes into my thinking and in my behavior. I aspire to be serious, studious, spiritual, and serene, and continue to enjoy periods of silence, but I also wish to cultivate more of those wonderful child-like monkey qualities, such as playfulness, exuberance, and perhaps a bit of mischievousness. I also wish to be like the three (or four) wise monkeys in avoiding hearing, seeing, speaking, or doing evil.

My lesson from this puzzling but inspiring dream is my intention for the New Year—2011—and that is to live my life devoted to being a monk in monkey’s clothing!

AN ADDED BLESSING

Last night, after I had posted my blog “Thanksgiving Blessings” and had gone to bed, I suddenly realized that I had failed to mention my most recent blessing—the birth of a great-grandchild. As I pondered this omission I realized that though I have seen baby Noah, it was only when he was still in the hospital incubator. I could not hold him or snuggle him or kiss him. He was tiny and frail and somnolent. So though I have followed his progress with great interest by reading the blog posted by his parents, he is still not quite real to me.

All that will change on December 18 when we come together as a family and I will conduct a ritual welcoming Noah into our family circle. We will talk about our new roles in relationship to him—as grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and in my case as great-grandmother. We will offer advice and support to his parents, Carolyn and Raven; we will express our fondest wishes for this child as he grows up, and then each of us will give our personal blessings to him and his parents.

On that day, in addition to the ceremony, I will finally get to hold Noah, to snuggle him, to press him against my chest, and to lovingly kiss him. On that day he will become real to me, and I can truly say that he is one of the greatest blessings of my old age.

THANKSGIVING BLESSINGS

There are so many blessings in my life, it is difficult to know where to begin in enumerating them. It is interesting that in my old age I can acknowledge blessings, whereas when I was young, I could only see what was lacking, what deprivations I had endured and how much I suffered because of what I perceived as deficiencies in my upbringing. This is not to say that my childhood was ideal; it certainly was not. We were poor, my mother was terribly depressed because of the handicap (deafness) of my brother, born two years after me, and my father, though unfailingly kind and generous with me, was not able to give my mother the kind of support she needed. There was a lot of tension in the marriage.

And yet, I did well in school, stood out academically in my high school, though I admit there was little competition from my small rural community. Still, I felt proud of my level of accomplishment; being the smartest in the class is not bad, no matter the level of competition. I also took piano and voice lessons—skills which to this day provide me with great pleasure. So, it was not all deprivation. There was considerable substance to my growing up years that it has taken me some time to fully appreciate.

Then there was the blessing of coming to St. Louis, attending Washington University, meeting Norm. What had been up until then extremely limited horizons in my experience, suddenly expanded in amazing ways. Being in a city like St. Louis, away from the confines of a rural Southern Baptist environment was heady, liberating, uplifting. Norm was unlike any man I had ever met before—Jewish, intellectual, arrogant, and yet someone who seemed to find something in me that was appealing. We came from such totally different backgrounds, and yet there was a strong attraction. We almost made it to sixty years of marriage before he died.

Perhaps the greatest blessing of all is the birth of our two daughters. Born only 19 months apart, they grew up in some ways like twins—in the same grade from second grade on—but each found her own way, each developing her own talents and interests and each becoming excellent mothers as well as establishing expertise in a variety of fields. These two women are indeed persons who have developed their own strengths and yet have maintained strong family ties in the process. Jenny is the founder and director of a nonprofit organization, and Laurie has a background in politics and lobbying, and is now the author of a novel, based, of course, on a political theme. Who could have guessed that these two adorable little girls would become such accomplished women?

The men to whom my daughters are married are also great blessings in my life. Each treats me with respect and is unfailingly helpful and kind to me. I am deeply grateful for their attention, their assistance, and their friendship.

But most astonishing of all, perhaps, are my grandchildren. I still feel a large part of myself as a poor, sad little girl living on a farm in North Carolina. It boggles my mind to think that my grandchildren are graduates of prestigious universities, founders of nonprofits, students of art and social work, and all-around marvelous, beautiful, loving human beings. How did I get so blessed? I love each one with all my heart, and I feel lucky every day that I can find so much joy in spending time with each one of them.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the blessing of my friends. I am particularly fortunate in having friends from all age groups. Some are still in their twenties, several in their thirties, many inhabit those middle years of forties and fifties. Then there are those who are closer to my age, and a few who are my actual peers. It is a great privilege for me to have connections with women and men who span so many different age groups. I feel that my relationship with my grandchildren and my young friends infuses me with a kind of energy and vitality that I could not have otherwise. What a great gift they all are to me!

Last, I am blessed by the privilege of being old. I shall be eternally grateful for these later years when I have had the opportunity to look back and reflect on the myriad experiences and relationships that I have had over these eighty-plus years of my life. It has been a long, sometimes challenging journey, and I have had my share of missteps and detours along the way, but I do not, for a moment, regret the trajectory of my life. I rejoice in the years I have had on this earth.

Thank you to all those I love, especially my family: Laurie and Dan, Jenny and Rocky, Carolyn and Raven, Rebecca, Jessie, Rachel and Nick.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Mom/Leah/Gaga

TOMORROW BELONGS TO ME

The sun on the meadow is summery warm,
The stag in the forest runs free;
The heart as a shelter defies the storm,
Tomorrow belongs to me.

The branch of the linden is leafy and green,
The rage has deserted the sea;
The world holds promise that shines unseen,
Tomorrow belongs to me.

The babe in his cradle is soundly asleep,
The blossom embraces the bee;
And love, like a valley, lies wide and deep,
Tomorrow belongs to me,
Tomorrow belongs to me.

The words of this song, Tomorrow Belongs to Me, written by Fred Ebb and John Kander for the musical Cabaret, have recently moved me like nothing else. Perhaps it is because I have, like so many, been deeply depressed about the situation in world, most especially about the appalling oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. The permanently imprinted image of oil spewing endlessly into the habitat of one of our most biologically diverse bodies of water affects not just my visual sense, but also impacts my entire body. It makes me feel ill. I can hardly bare to watch it, though it is hard to avoid since it is shown continually on most news shows.

This event has been called by our president (and others) “the worst environmental disaster America has ever faced,” though a recent story in the New York Times questions that pronouncement. There have been other horrendous happenings which we tend to forget. One is the Dust Bowl of the 1930s. Just as this spill seems to have taken place because of a lack of proper safety procedures, the Dust Bowl occurred due to poor farming practices and lack of good stewardship over our earth. Farmers in the early 1900s heedlessly removed most of the prairie grasses which helped hold much needed moisture. When a severe drought occurred in the 1930s, the soil, with nothing to hold it down, swirled into massive storms, obliterating everything in its path, choking livestock, and causing serious respiratory illnesses in those exposed to the dust. It is reported that by 1940 more than two million people had left their homes in the Great Plains States. The effects of the Dust Bowl lasted for more than ten years.

We do not know yet the extent of the disaster in the Gulf region—how many humans and animals and how much aquatic life will be affected, either directly due to toxic exposure to the oil, or indirectly due to economic deprivation because of the destruction of fishing grounds and loss of income from tourist trade and other business failures. It seems certain that the effects of this monstrous spill will be around for a very long time.

And yet I find that putting this event into historic perspective gives me some hope. One advantage of living a long time—eighty-plus years in my case—is that one does get a deeper sense of the resiliency of our earth and its people. I do not mean to diminish the suffering of those individuals whose lives have been upended by this oil spill, any more than I deny the upheaval and misery of those families caught up in the Dust Bowl, but it is somehow reassuring to know that our country and our planet have endured countless disasters, and our species has demonstrated over and over again that we can survive seemingly overwhelming threats. Life does go on.

So, I find some comfort in the words of this song. I like the idea that tomorrow belongs to me, that I can find something of hope, and beauty, and love if I choose to focus on those thoughts. I am especially touched by the last verse of the song, since it refers to “the babe in his cradle.” As you all know, in the fall our family will welcome a new baby, my first great-grandchild. I wish to feel that this child—to be named Noah, like the Biblical Noah who saw a newly refreshed world after the flood—will be born into a world that, in spite of its catastrophes, finds a way to right itself—a world that “holds promise that shines unseen” and that he will find reason to embrace his life with joy and optimism. It is my hope that he will know “summery warm,” the “leafy and green” of the trees and many other pleasures of life, family, and nature. Of one thing I am absolutely certain: that our Noah will always be aware that from his family “love, like a valley, lies wide and deep.”

I WOULDN'T CHANGE A THING

Last evening as I sat out in my garden reflecting on my life, an extraordinary thought popped into my head: If I had it all to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing. What?! After all the mistakes I have made, the hurts I have inflicted, the pain I have endured, the sorrows I have suffered, why would I not want to change any of that? The thought makes no logical sense. And yet, there it is, real and present and persistent. How can one explain such an irrational rumination?

Then another insight arose: All those experiences, whether good, bad, indifferent, remarkable, silly, smart, stupid, provocative, horrendous, marvelous, painful, joyful, or just plain satisfying, have made me who I am. So, I suppose one explanation is that I would not sacrifice my basic personality for one that might have been more perspicacious, more brilliant, or—and this is hard to admit—more caring. There is something odd, something absurd, about being so invested in the wholeness of who I am and the totality of the life I have led. And yet, again, there it is. Is this an overweening ego?

Perhaps it is not just a question of ego, but rather a sense of having lived out some kind of pre-ordained destiny. It is as if some seed within me knew just what kind of human being I would—or could—become. I do not know how that happened, but I do know that, raised on a farm in North Carolina, I somehow felt from an early age that my life would not be lived in that environment. I ended up in St. Louis, Missouri, married to a radical intellectual Jewish man—something about as far from my rural Southern Baptist roots as could be imagined.

How did that seed, which seems so alien to my background, get implanted? I have no idea, for it does not appear to have come from my parents, who were opposed to almost all my choices and my decisions. I had to leave my home so that kernel could germinate and grow into the person I have become. It has not always been an easy process—separating from my family at age eighteen was one of the early sacrifices. I see the arc of my life as a slow unfolding of my authentic personhood, and my behavior as an effort to nurture that often fragile, sometimes stunted, seedling self, a task that continues into my old age. I feel that I am still exploring and still learning from the course of my own maturation, with all its stops and starts, pains and pleasures. Just as a plant grows due to the nutrients in the soil, to water and available sunlight, so I have unfolded in response to all my life experiences and to all those who have been close to me.

I have the weird feeling that all along my future was pulling me forward, that there was some path already designated, or at least suggested, that I was destined to follow. If this seems to deny the feeling we all have of free will, then it occurs to me that perhaps I could have denied or ignored that pull, could have acquiesced to the wishes of my parents, could have remained within the confines of that life in North Carolina. But for some reason I did not. I shall be forever thankful that I chose otherwise, for my life has been richly satisfying.

So, at this late stage of my life, I have a deep sense of gratitude for whatever life force has guided me thus far. As I approach these final years of my life, I rejoice in the life I have lived.

I would not change a thing.

SINGING GOSPEL SONGS

Recently I attended a performance by Harold Allen, who during the course of the evening told stories and sang songs demonstrating each stage of his musical education—from art songs to arias to numbers from musical theater. He then said that when he began composing and singing his own pieces, he found himself using the genre of country music. Allen did not explain what brought about this transition in his musical focus, but I would have been interested in hearing what he had to say, for I find myself in a somewhat similar situation. (Though I am not a performer; I sing only for my own personal enjoyment.) Now that I have begun singing again—more than sixty years since I last took voice lessons—I find myself mysteriously, but inexorably, drawn to gospel music. I wonder why this is so.

Gospel music is definitively Christian, but I am not a follower of that faith, even though I was brought up in a Southern Baptist family and regularly attended a small rural church in North Carolina. When I was in high school and was studying voice, I frequently sang in that church—sometimes as soloist, but often as a member of a trio formed with two other young girls. So I was steeped in the sounds and harmonies of gospel music from an early age. When I went away to college I left that life and that church behind. I married a non-religious Jewish man, and felt a strong affinity for the values articulated by my husband and his family. I also am interested in Buddhism and its precepts. However, I think of myself as an agnostic, forever questioning, always exploring, but never fully persuaded by the answers offered to ultimate religious queries.

I left high school a year early and attended a junior college where I continued my vocal studies. Most voice majors gave a recital at the end of their second year at the school, but since I would not be staying for that year, my teacher encouraged me to do a recital at the end of my one year at the school. I have lost all copies of the printed program for that recital, but it included several art songs, some in English, others in German, and at least one aria, “Connais-tu le pays” from Mignon by Ambroise Thomas. (I recently read that that song was at one time “done to death” here in the U.S, both by concert singers and amateurs, which perhaps explains why it was on my program.)

Later, long after I abandoned my musical studies and had started a family, I delighted in singing with my young daughters—wonderful, playful songs: Looby Lou, Little Red Wagon, Mulberry Bush, and many others. We sang wherever and whenever we happened to be—especially in the car on long trips. I borrowed records of Pete Seeger from the library and we sang along with him. Once the girls started school we purchased a piano and continued to sing folk songs, for they were growing up during the sixties—the era not only of the Beatles, but also of Theodore Bikel and the Weavers.

Once the children left home I mostly stopped singing. I turned my energies and interests in other directions; first teaching at a school for the deaf, then becoming a photographer and later at age sixty-nine going back to school for a Ph.D. These were deeply satisfying creative and intellectual endeavors, but recently I have begun singing again, and though I still love the old folk songs, it is gospel music that has captured my heart. This is true even though a part of me resists the beliefs and sentiments expressed by many of the lyrics. How can I, given my skeptic’s stance, find emotional resonance with such profoundly professed love of Jesus? How can I not only tolerate, but actually connect with, the worshipful attitude that is an essential aspect of these tunes? How can I reconcile my fundamental agnosticism with my great pleasure in singing these fundamentally Christian songs? Why am I so drawn to them? They are, most obviously, simple melodies often based on old folk tunes, with a chorus repeated after each verse, and with a limited vocal range, all of which make them easy to remember and easy to sing. They are accessible to anyone who has a musical ear; no training is necessary. Still, I could have decided to return to my study of art songs, or other classical pieces, instead of to these hymns and spirituals. To help find an answer to these questions, I began a careful examination of the lyrics to see what they might reveal.

The first thing I noticed is that many of the songs are about love. Take, for example, the chorus of In the Garden: “And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known.” Those words could be about any loving couple meeting for a tryst, even though the verse tells us “I come to the garden alone, While the dew is still on the roses…” I find this imagery quite beautiful and decidedly romantic.

Here is another example: What Wondrous Love Is This, the beginning words of which are “What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul! What wondrous love is this, O my soul!” And this from O, How I love Jesus: “There is a name I love to hear, I love to sing its worth; It sounds like music in my ear, The sweetest name on earth. O, how I love Jesus, O, how I love Jesus, O, how I love Jesus—Because he first loved me.” I could imagine singing that to a lover, substituting his name for that of Jesus. Passionately proclaimed love is something I can certainly relate to.

There is another theme frequently found in gospel music—that of sin and suffering. I am not sure what constitutes sin (in my youth it was, among other things, cursing or drinking alcohol), but I do know what it is to make mistakes and to do harm, and I also know something about sorrow and suffering, so some of these lyrics strike a chord within me. Take this one: Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy, which begins with the words “Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, Weak and wounded, sick and sore; Jesus ready stands to save you, Full of pity, love, and pow’r.” And we all know the beloved lyrics, “Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.”

Then there are the songs of hope, most notably Whispering Hope, which does not mention Jesus or God in its first stanza or in the chorus, but does offer solace and optimism: “Soft as the voice of an angel, Breathing a lesson unheard, Hope with a gentle persuasion Whispers her comforting word: Wait till the darkness is over, Wait till the tempest is done, Hope for the sunshine tomorrow, After the shower is gone. Whispering hope, Oh how welcome thy voice. Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice.” Who among us cannot relate to such soothing and reassuring words?

Here are some other lyrics that are inspiring and uplifting in their affirmation of life: “Sing them over again to me, Wonderful words of Life; Let me more of their beauty see, Wonderful words of Life. Words of life and beauty, Teach me faith and duty: Beautiful words, wonderful words, Wonderful words of Life. Beautiful words, wonderful words, Wonderful words of Life.” Then this reminder to be thankful from the chorus of Count Your Blessings: “Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your blessings, see what God hath done. Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your blessings, see what God hath done.”

There are other themes as well, such as redemption (Saved! Saved!), the importance of prayer (Sweet Hour of Prayer), praise (Glory to His Name), the significance of the cross (Near the Cross) plus the fascinating and frequent use of water metaphors: There Is a Fountain; Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing; Are You Washed in the Blood? and Shall We Gather at the River. (I am tempted to write an entire essay on the mythical and religious significance of water.)

There must be a reason beyond their literal messages and musical simplicity that makes these songs so captivating for someone like me. Perhaps it is that in calling on Jesus, I am, in a sense, addressing the higher self that resides within my own psyche. The Jesus who receives, welcomes, embraces, redeems, shelters, cleanses, blesses, and also forgives our gravest transgressions might represent that part of us which embodies our highest aspirations and yearnings, that aspect which characterizes the best of who we are or wish to be. As I sing these tunes with sincere and soulful fervor, perhaps I am expressing a desire to find, recognize, and honor those qualities of love and acceptance and forgiveness that I strive to develop within myself. If so, I can understand why these simple songs give me such great pleasure.

C. G. Jung, in Memories, Dreams, Reflections, describes the self as being “the principle and archetype of orientation and meaning,” and goes on to say that “Therein lies its healing function.” He illustrates the self as both the center point and the outer circle which contains all aspects of the personality. According to Jung, we are driven by this central core of our being to become who we truly are. In other places I have written about the trauma of my baptism at age nine, how fraudulent and disillusioned I felt as a result of that experience. It occurs to me that in returning to the music I encountered in my formative years, I am bringing back into the circle of my life some psychological meaning that I had discarded or ignored. Perhaps in opening my heart to these old melodies, I am healing some of the wounds from my childhood. And that is a good thing.

Note: With the exception of In the Garden, which is from The Broadman Hymnal, all songs mentioned are from Smoky Mountain Sunday: 40 Favorite Hymns and Gospel Songs, Nashville, TN: Shawnee Press, Inc. 2008.

AN ANNIVERSARY

Today marks the second anniversary of Norm’s death. Last night I lay thinking of that night two years ago when we surrounded his bed, hands joined, speaking to him of our love, singing to him, and bidding him goodbye. Those thoughts crowded out any hope of immediate sleep. Finally, though, I drifted off, hoping for a dream visit, but none came. This morning my heart lies heavy in my chest, my breathing is labored and uneven, and my eyes threaten to spill tears. Before breakfast I lit a memorial candle, which will burn for 24 hours, a flame to remind me of the passion we shared during our six decades together, a passion that was often a blessing, but, I must admit, was also occasionally a curse. Our relationship was complex and intense.

My sorrow seems greater now than it did a year ago. I am not sure why that should be. Perhaps then I was still immersed in the mental fog and fatigue that is characteristic of grief and only now am emerging into a full realization of my status as widow. As with most situations, this new role has both positive and negative aspects. The negatives are perhaps most obvious. I must make all household decisions, though I had to do that for many years before he died since his mental faculties had slowly slipped away, and I do not find those decisions difficult.

Of more consequence is that I do not have a companion for cultural and social events. Going to a museum or a movie or a concert is not nearly as much fun when done alone. I am blessed to have Laura and Dan with whom I share theater tickets, and am grateful to my neighbors the Zuckers with whom I go to productions of the St. Louis Opera Theater, but I probably would take advantage of more events if Norm were still alive. Now that I have said that, however, I am not sure it is correct. Norm was not really interested in art or music; he was a man of ideas and intellect. And that brings up another, deeper sorrow: I cannot truly remember what Norm was like. It breaks my heart to admit that, but it is true. He faded away over so many years—a full decade before his death—that I have lost any reliable memory of who that pre-Alzheimer’s person was. But whoever he was, I shared my entire adult life with him, and I miss him.

Though it seems appropriate to focus on loss, there are also gains that need to be acknowledged as a result of his passing. One great gift of this past year is that my granddaughter Rebecca moved in with me, something that probably would not have happened if Norm were still alive and at home. Though she travels a great deal, having her here at least some of the time fills this usually empty house with youthful enthusiasm and activity. I am grateful that this arrangement seems to suit both our needs at the moment.

Over the past two years I also have discovered new strengths and have returned to old interests. I have traveled widely—twice to Europe last year—and that is something Norm would not have enjoyed, whereas I loved sharing those adventures with my family. I found that my energy for walking and climbing far exceeded my expectations, a delightful discovery! I also have traveled within the U.S., visiting grandchildren and friends whenever the mood arose, the most recent trip being a spa vacation with granddaughter Jessica. Next month I shall visit grandson Nicholas in New York City where I shall be joined by all my other grandchildren (except for Rachel who has other commitments). These occasions fill my heart with joy, and being in the presence of these young people rejuvenates me, as if I have been given a shot of adrenaline.

I have returned to my love of singing, and am enjoying studying voice. I find time each day to sit down at the piano—mostly when I am in the house alone, for I still do not feel comfortable having others around—to belt out my favorite folk and gospel tunes. These times give me great pleasure, for they are a reminder of the days when I used to sing with my children.

So, my life is full in ways I could not have dreamed of when Norm died. I feel as if I am awakening, stretching, unfolding, emerging into a whole new stage of life as I grow further into my eighties. The past two years have been, in one strange sense, a liberation. Freed of my caregiving responsibilities, I have had the opportunity to explore new ways of being. I have been able to recognize, or develop, other roles, some of which might not have occurred to me earlier. I have lectured, I have written essays, and as a result I have a deeper sense of my own intellectual ability. No longer a wife, I am more secure in my separate identity. I have even opened my own page on Facebook.

There is one new role for which I am now most happily preparing—that of great-grandmother. My granddaughter Carolyn and her husband Raven are expecting a baby in early fall, and needless to say, we are all thrilled. As I have mentioned in my writings, I did not have a grandmother as I was growing up, and certainly not a great-grandmother, so once again I must invent how I am to live into this most awe-inspiring position. What a glorious challenge that will be! I hope to be around enough years to watch this child grow and develop as a fourth generation is added to our family.

So, today is a day of mixed emotions: sadness for what has been lost, pleasure for what has been gained, and great happiness for what is to be.

HOW WOMEN WILL SAVE THE WORLD

Note: About once a month a group of friends comes together at my house for a potluck dinner and discussion. Recently I presented this essay to the group and also emailed it to some other persons that I thought might find it of interest. Here is a copy of the essay and following the text are comments by two men whose observations I feel are especially thoughtful and offer a slightly different, or enlarged, perspective on my topic. Peter was the youngest person in my class at Pacifica, and I was the oldest, so he calls me “Grandmother.” Rev. Ted is an interfaith minister and is a member of our discussion group. Additional remarks by anyone reading this piece are always welcome.

Perhaps like me, many of you have become deeply discouraged about the state of the world. Conditions like climate change, widespread poverty, population pressures, war, and terrorism can seem overwhelming, creating a sense of despair and hopelessness. Many observers of economic and social trends see Western civilization and our country, especially, in a downward spiral, destined to lose its position of power and influence. I agree that there are many seemingly insurmountable problems and I cannot refute many of the negative indicators, but I wish to look at some other, more positive indications that a possible paradigm shift is taking place that might help save the world from some of the worst prognostications.

My title—How Women Will Save the World—is not altogether accurate in that it is not, of course, women alone who will bring about this change. However, there is increasing evidence that when women are empowered—or when so-called feminine principles and qualities are engaged—positive effects are set in motion. Recently I have come upon, rather by chance, a number of writers and thinkers who present surprisingly similar ideas about how we might view, and hopefully defuse, some of the perils facing our planet. This confluence of perspectives gives me hope that we may look forward to a greater possibility of cooperation and peace in our world.

One of the most important books on this topic is Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide, written by Nicholas Kristof and his wife Sheryl WuDunn, correspondents for The New York Times and the first married couple to win a Pulitzer Prize in journalism. They describe—often in horrible detail—the brutal treatment of women and girls in developing countries and provide an inspiring portrait of the courage and resilience these women display in the face of great injustice. They point out that whereas in the nineteenth century the challenge was slavery and in the twentieth century the battle against totalitarianism, the primary moral challenge facing the world today is the struggle for gender equality in the developing world.

As we know, many undeveloped countries (and many developed ones as well) are largely patriarchal, and some of the tribal societies within these countries, such as the Taliban, even refuse to allow their female children to attend school. Kristof and WuDunn point out that by bringing women and girls into schools, the workplace, government, and business, not only is the economy boosted but also conflict is reduced, because the influence of women tends to diminish the testosterone-laden values of these countries. With greater participation of women in the society at large, there is apt to be less violence, making for more stable governments and a safer world. They see a profound shift taking place as these women find their rightful place in society.

Environmental issues such as climate change would not seem to be directly affected by the education or participation of women in positions of influence. However, we know that more educated women have fewer children, and that the best way to cut down on population growth in a society is to educate girls and give them job opportunities. So, to the extent that population pressures play a role in environmental strains, providing schooling and work for women will indeed ease some environmental threats.

One recent innovation helping women in developing countries is microfinance. Professor Muhammad Yunus, who founded the Grameen Bank Project in Bangladesh, and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006 for his work, developed a method of credit in which micro-loans are made to small entrpreneurs who would not ordinarily be eligible for loans. One distinctive feature of the bank's credit program is that a significant majority of its borrowers are women. Women, it seems, are more reliable recipients than men.

As most of you know, my granddaughter has founded her own microfinance nonprofit organization called Nest (www.buildanest.com) which makes loans to women artisans in developing countries. Her approach is different in that rather than being repaid with money, women repay their loans in products which she then markets and sells in the United States. She also has artists in the U.S. who mentor and train the women in modern techniques and designs so their goods will be more appealing to an international clientele. This is how she explains why her loans go exclusively to women:

Women are more likely to both repay their loans and devote their earnings to assisting the family. Furthermore, when women are given the opportunity to create their own businesses and earn a stable income, their social standing in the family and in the community improves. By giving women the tools they need to provide for their families, micro-credit loans give stability and hope to families and communities.

Empowered and economically independent women have resources to help educate their children and are much more likely to create healthier, happier homes. Perhaps some of you heard that during the aftermath of the Haitian earthquake, some agencies handing out desperately needed water and food gave it only to women, for that way they felt reasonably assured it would go to those in need and not be sold on the black market. Women almost always put the needs of children and family first. This attitude makes for a more stable environment in the midst of chaos.

Now I would like to leave the issue of women per se for a moment and talk about another interesting perspective regarding future trends. Daniel H. Pink is the author of a book titled A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future. Pink points out that for almost a century the prevailing philosophy of Western society and the United States in particular has been based on linear, reductive thinking and analytical approaches to problems. The resulting technological innovations created the Information Age, in which well-educated persons utilize and manipulate information, an ability which depends largely on the left hemisphere of the brain.

Pink maintains that due to a number of factors, among which he says are “material abundance that is deepening our nonmaterial yearnings, globalization that is shipping white-collar work overseas, and powerful technologies that are eliminating certain kinds of work altogether,” we are now entering a new age. This new era, which he calls The Conceptual Age, requires a greater utilization of our right brain. Accordingly, he suggests that rather than lawyers, accountants, and computer programmers, the future belongs to artists, inventors, and storytellers, persons with creative and holistic abilities.

According to Pink, the future will be “animated by a different form of thinking and a new approach to life”—one that “involves the capacity to detect patterns and opportunities, to create artistic and emotional beauty, to craft a satisfying narrative, and to combine seemingly unrelated ideas into something new.” In addition, this shift will involve “the ability to empathize, to understand the subtleties of human interaction, to find joy in one’s self and to elicit it in others, and to stretch beyond the quotidian in pursuit of purpose and meaning.”
Pink lists six essential aptitudes on which professional success and personal fulfillment now depend. These “senses,” as he calls them—Design, Story, Symphony, Empathy, Play, and Meaning—are more dependent on the right brain, and are not usually thought of as strongly masculine traits.

Perhaps some of you have read the book A Stroke of Insight in which Jill Bolte Taylor, a scientist involved in studying the brain, describes in great detail her experience of having a stroke. The stroke damaged her left hemisphere, while the right hemisphere remained intact, a condition that—being the scientist she is—allowed her to clearly observe and differentiate what each had to offer. When she entered the consciousness of her right brain, she felt at one with all the energy of the universe, was overcome with beauty, peacefulness, and compassion, an experience she called nirvana. When her linear, left brain reasserted itself she felt the presence of her ego, her separateness, and instead of being in the moment she was concerned about the past or the future. She maintains that we can choose which world we wish to live in and says that when we step from the consciousness of our left brain to that of our right, we can find more peace in the world. This is another example of how we may learn to value the strengths of our right brains and as a result develop a gentler outlook on life.

Both men and women use both sides of their brains, of course, but some studies indicate that there are distinct differences in the ways that women’s and men’s minds operate. Simon Baron-Cohen, a Professor of Developmental Psychopathology at Trinity College of Cambridge, posits that the female brain is hard-wired for empathizing, whereas the male brain is hard-wired for systemizing. He defines empathizing as “the drive to identify another person’s emotions and thoughts and to respond with an appropriate emotion.” He says that empathy helps us “to understand another person, to predict their behavior, and to connect or resonate with them emotionally. “Systemizing,” on the other hand, “is the drive to analyze, explore, and construct a system. The systemizer intuitively figures out how things work and extracts the underlying rules that govern the behavior of the system. This is done to understand and predict the system, or to invent a new one.” So it seems that right brain thinking, such as that of women, leads to greater empathy.

Now I will take what might seem like a major detour, but one that eventually will bring us back to my theme of the emergence of feminine influence on world problems. Perhaps many of you are aware of the fairly recent discovery of an ancient manuscript titled The Gospel of Judas. This controversial document upends the traditional New Testament version of Judas’s relationship with Jesus. As you recall, in the canonical gospels Judas is described as a traitor, the most despised and vilified of the disciples, the one who betrayed his master for 30 pieces of silver. In this document, Judas is seen not as a traitor, but as the disciple closest to Jesus, and the one chosen to act as his agent in helping carry out a series of events that ended Jesus’ life, just as had been planned—the only one of the twelve who was privileged with this secret information and the only one who truly understood Jesus’ mission.

Gottfried Heuer, a European Jungian analyst, sees this new understanding of the relationship between Jesus and Judas as a hopeful sign, suggesting in the title of an article he wrote, that it is “An Emerging Potential for World Peace.” Heuer reminds us of Jung’s reaction when the Catholic church proclaimed the Assumption of Mary—the bodily ascension of Mary to Heaven—as dogma, an act that Jung understood as an integration of the feminine principle into the Christian conception of the Godhead: the Trinity was now a Quaternity. Heuer links this with the extraordinary surge of feminism that occurred in the following decade.

Heuer claims that analysis, politics, and spirituality are deeply intertwined and that each embraces the other two in such a way that enhances the other. In this sense he explores, from an analytical point of view, some of the wider sociopolitical implications of what he calls “the current enantiodromia regarding the Judas figure in Christianity.” For those of you not familiar with that term, it means the transformation of a concept into its opposite.

The Gospel of Judas presents a radically different kind of Jesus than the one in the canonical gospels, a more joyful figure who laughs and jokes with his followers. Rather than a tragic figure who will soon die in agony on the cross, we see him as a friendly and benevolent teacher blessed with a sense of humor. Furthermore, Heuer interprets the kiss that Judas plants on Jesus as a sign of devotion and relationship, not an act of deception and betrayal. He suggests that if we could replace the cross as the pre-eminent Christian symbol with that of a loving embrace, then we might find a new Christian paradigm for the new millennium, one that is far more relational—as well as being truly healing. And since the disciplines of analysis, politics, and spirituality are intimately connected, all would benefit from the revised image.

Perhaps Heuer reads too much into this new gospel, and perhaps he expects too much when he sees its publication as “an important step towards reconciliation, and ultimately, world peace,” but there are some profound implications here. If we could, indeed, shift our basic world view from a focus on suffering and pathology—in our psychological as well as our spiritual and political outlooks—to one which focuses on relationship and healing, then surely that would make a huge difference in our culture and in our lives.

Now I would like to look again at some changes in women’s status, particularly here in the United States. The Pew Research Center recently released some very interesting data on salaries and employment. One part of the report, titled “The Rise of Wives,” found that in nearly a third of couples the wife is better educated than her husband, and that though men still earn more than women, women are now the primary breadwinners in 22 percent of households, up from 7 percent in 1970. These changes have had a positive effect, contributing to lower divorce rates and happier marriages. The statistics indicate that the more education and the more economic independence a woman has, the more likely she is to stay married.

Stephanie Coontz, a professor at Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington, and research director for the Council on Contemporary Families, says that “We’ve known for some time that men need marriage more than women from the standpoint of physical and mental well-being. Now it is becoming increasingly important to their economic well-being as well.” According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, at age 22, 185 women have graduated from college for every 100 men who have done so. According to other studies, men suffer most in the recent recession in that more of them have lost their jobs. For the first time ever, more women than men are employed. These social changes will surely result in women having more power and women’s values having a greater influence in all aspects of our society.

Another factor in this possible paradigm shift is social networking. We are now, due to major technological innovations, more connected than ever, in fact, some contend we are hyperconnected—far beyond our usual boundaries. A recent book called Connected: The Surprising Power of Our Social Networks and How They Shape Our Lives by Nicholas A. Christakis and James N. Fowler is a fascinating account of just how prevalent social networks are and how they form. When the connections are plotted, they show a variety of configurations depending on just what binds the individuals together.

The authors contend that we are affected in mysterious ways by those in our networks—even those we do not know personally, but who might know those we know. They show, for example, that if a friend of a friend—someone we have never met—gains weight, we are more likely to gain weight. These networks exhibit a kind of independent intelligence that augments or complements individual intelligence, such as establishing norms of trust, determining what products to buy, deciding which political parties to support, or, indeed, who might get a sexually transmitted disease. The networks to which we belong help shape our beliefs and our behavior.

Christakis and Fowler see much good emerging from this phenomenon, and say that “Some degree of altruism and reciprocity, and indeed some degree of positive emotions such as love and happiness, are therefore crucial for the emergence and endurance of social networks.” By recognizing and maintaining these interconnections, we are acknowledging how important relationships are. In fact, our connections and their resultant communities are fundamental to our humanity.

As I mentioned, this vision of an upcoming major shift in our way of looking at the world, based on books and articles I have read, has been incubating in my mind for almost a year, but it was not until quite recently that I discovered a book that explores in great depth most of what I have discussed here in a more cursory manner. The book is a 700 page tome called The Empathic Civilization: The Race to Global Consciousness in a World in Crisis by Jeremy Rifkin. Rifkin is an economist, who draws on multiple disciplines as he examines what he sees as the end of the modern era, largely brought about by the dangers of climate change due to our dependence on fossil fuels, a situation which threatens the survival of our species. The change required to avoid catastrophe is, in Rifkin’s opinion, a drastic change in how we view human nature.

Rifkin traces our current crisis back to the rise of the modern market economy and the emergence of nation states. The philosophical underpinnings come from the notion that humans are “rational, detached, autonomous, acquisitive, and utilitarian,” and that we are engaged in a fierce competitive battle over resources and material gain. We are beginning to see the fallacies in our assumption that material progress is natural and is unlimited.

Rifkin reviews recent discoveries in brain science and in child development that challenge these old suppositions. He cites the discovery by neuroscientists of mirror-neurons—sometimes called empathy neurons—that light up when we observe someone who is exhibiting signs of stress or of joy. They demonstrate our neurological capacity to feel and understand the emotions and situations of others. He also cites child development psychologists who argue the primacy of relationship and who see empathy as the means through which a sense of selfhood and self-awareness is developed in children. He sees our deepening awareness of empathy as an evolutionary trend that has been, up until now, overlooked by social scientists and historians. He feels that the rich diversity of our exposure through our broader access to social networks and improved communication will help extend our empathic awareness, and he sees its development in all of us as crucial to saving the world.

I personally have begun to notice some of the benefits of these networks. Recently I received an email from a woman in Australia who had read my blog and found it helpful because her father was turning eighty. That astounds me, but probably seems routine to many of today’s youngsters. However, I am not naïve enough to believe that this kind of drastic upheaval of long-held beliefs and assumptions about human nature will be easily overturned. I rather suspect that we will go through a period of deep confusion and frightening chaos, and undoubtedly will experience considerable backlash from those most fearful of change, and especially from those who feel threatened by a loss of power and status.

Elisabet Sahtouris, an evolution biologist and futurist and member of the consciousness group that my husband and I attended for many years, recently sent me a draft copy of a chapter she is writing for a book titled Crisis as Opportunity. Sahtouris acknowledges that there are three major crises facing the world today—in energy, economy, and climate—but she says that these are challenges that we should celebrate. Why? “Because,” she says, “nothing short of a fundamental review, revisioning and revising our entire way of life on planet Earth is required to face these three interrelated challenges successfully. That makes this an amazing time of opportunity to create the world we all deeply want!”

Sahtouris points out that “Humans dreamed up and then realized our economic systems, including our technological path via the exploitation of nature and our grand focus on consumerism.” We are now beginning to realize how unsustainable our current systems are and that insight provides an unparalleled opportunity to utilize the creativity and resourcefulness of our species to find new ways of thinking and doing that can bring about the changes so desperately needed.

Sahtouris calls on her expertise as an evolution biologist to remind us of the many crises that have challenged our planet in the past and how each time “life responded with a stunning new lifestyle invention.” She focuses on what can survive under extreme conditions, and concludes that “sustainability of any entity depends on its coming into harmony with whatever surrounds it in a mutual give and take that makes it more or less indispensable to the whole in which it is embedded.” To me this sounds like a variation of what might be called relationship and empathy.

I find it fascinating that my limited reading suggests a common theme, that of the huge role relationship and empathy must play in shaping our future. I am impressed with the fact that there are journalists, psychologists, neuroscientists, evolution biologists, and economists, all recognizing the importance of these qualities that were once thought to belong largely to women.

Perhaps this signifies that we are shifting away from a predominantly patriarchal world into one that can approximate a more balanced sharing between women and men. Perhaps more nations can become partnership societies, symbolized, as Riane Eisler put it in her book The Chalice and the Blade published in the mid-1980s, by the life-sustaining and enhancing Chalice rather than the lethal and destructive Blade.

Perhaps, we are, as Jeremy Rifkin puts it, “an affectionate species that continuously seeks to broaden and deepen our relationships and connections to others”, and that “It is the empathetic moments in one’s life that are the most powerful memories and the experiences that comfort and give a sense of connection, participation, and meaning to one’s sojourn.”

Let’s hope that he is right.

References:

Baron-Cohen, Simon. The Essential Difference: Male and Female Brains and the Truth about Autism. New York: Basic Books, 2003.

Brooks, David. “The Lean Years.” The New York Times 16 Feb. 2010, natl. ed.: A23.

- - -. “The Power Elite.” The New York Times 19 Feb. 2010, natl. ed.: A21

Christakis, Nicholas. A. and James H. Fowler. Connected: The Surprising Power of Our Social Networks and How They Shape Our Lives. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 2009.

Eisler, Riane. The Chalice & the Blade: Our History, Our Future. New York: HarperCollins, 1987.

Heuer, Gottfried. “For ‘A New Heaven and a New Earth:’ The Gospel of Judas—An Emerging Potential for World Peace? A Jungian Perspective.” Spring Journal, Spring, 2009, Vol. 81. The Psychology of Violence.

Kousky, Rebecca. Mission Statement. www.buildanest.com.

Kristof, Nicholas D. and Sheryl WuDunn. Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide. New York: Alfred A Knopf, 2009.

Parker-Pope, Tara. “She Works, They Are Happy.” The New York Times 24 Jan. 2010, natl. ed.: STl.

Pink, Daniel H. A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future. New York: Riverhead Books, 2006.

Rifkin, Jeremy. The Empathic Civilization: The Race to Global Consciousness in a World in Crisis. New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 2010.

Roberts, Sam. “More Men Marrying Better Educated, Wealthier Wives.” The New York Times 19 Jan. 2010, natl. ed.: A20.

Sahtouris, Elisabet. “Celebrating Crisis,” Crisis as Opportunity. Edinburgh: Floris Books, 2010.

Leah Friedman
February, 2010


Grandmother:
I have read your essay, "How Women Will Save the World" and I found it masterfully written and full of great connections bringing various discipline threads and weaving them into a well crafted work. I am so glad you are continuing to listen to your voice and it is prompting you to write for the community at large (who ever that may be). I am glad that you are continuing your "studies" and that it is producing written work. We never really graduate do we!

I appreciate that you acknowledge that it is not women alone who will bring about this change; for I believe that there is no difference between one pole to the other in fundamentalism: i.e. a patriarchal society to a matriarchal one, fundamentalism is fundamentalism, at either end of the spectrum.

I printed out your essay so I can read it with pen in hand to jot down my comments: take them as you wish.

I wanted to know your thoughts on birth control in the empowerment and equalization of women in the world. I think this is a fascinating and crucial component to the evolution of our societies. I believe the power of women's choice to have (or control) children is a viable way to "save the world." (As a side note: Ginette Paris wrote a great essay on abortion that is published by Spring that I think you would find very interesting and powerful--it is used in abortion clinics in Canada--focusing on Artemis).

I liked your look at the Gospel of Judas as a reexamination of the Christ story and challenging us to change our mythos on the subject from suffering to healing. I think this is a crucial understanding of the "Christ" as a metaphoric myth to our current consciousness. I know that the holy rollers would never go for this they have made too much money on the cross to ever change their paradigm. I equally understand that it is helpful to have a "suffering" god as a model for people's own suffering but perhaps it is not that useful anymore when we have our modernity, science and technology to relieve us from our suffering! In truth I am a big fan about changing the whole Christ story. 2000 years is enough for any myth!

I was not surprised by the research about men and marriage and how it was beneficial for them. Is that because they cannot function on their own in regards to feeding, clothing, and sustaining themselves? Or is it because the "system" is set up that way so that women or "wives" help sustain them and prop them up for "success"?

I also like how you connected "social networks" as a function of interconnectedness and as a function of one's well being. As we are more inter-connected we can empathize with our various differences and connect with our various similar human conditions. This helps elevate some of the "us" vs. "them" mentality that we have been living off of for many years. Suddenly time and space have become instantaneous and that has reshaped our beliefs and our conceptualization of the "other".

I agree that despite our connectedness there will be a backlash of chaos and destruction from those who are fearful of this coming age of interconnectedness (or Age of Aquarius). The old ways will demand a return to its former existence, that of the clinched fist.

The only overall comment I want to pose to you as a "gay man" is the role of gender in your discussion. I know your title is "How Women Will Change the World" but as a man, who has "feminine aspects" of empathy, compassion, understanding and interrelatedness, I wanted to question the defining factors of man vs. woman. Could we say, or extrapolate, that it is traditionally feminine aspects, (and name them as qualities much like archetypes) as a way to "change the world," instead of having them solidified in one gender versus the other? Not that I disagree with your assessment as overall the analysis is probably true. But being one on the fringe, or the in-between I think there is an opportunity to look beyond gender as a qualifying factor and an opportunity to get out of binary opposites. To be honest I know many women who have masculine attributes and do not exemplify the feminine principles that you bring to light. I also similarly know many men who have (myself included--though you can decide!) "feminine principles" that would bring about change in our current paradigm. I offer this as another avenue of thought, not as a criticism.

I really enjoyed reading your essay. At Pacifica I realized we don't always get to hear each other's ideas, and connections, nor each other's papers. I think we really missed out on what we each had to say, especially how we write! I hope this is helpful. I look forward to more essays! Thank you for sharing. I think this can go on your blog!

Be well Grandmother. Thanks again!

Love, Peter (Plessas)

Leah:
Some additional thoughts that I couldn't as easily articulate in the group:

1. I think it's not a good sign that the number of male college graduates is falling. I take this to be a failure of the educational system, especially for younger boys, when the different learning styles between the genders is so pronounced. I hate to pin the future of life on earth on the failure of men to be as highly educated as women.

2. I too am optimistic about the Third World through the empowerment of women. However, I'm more likely to ascribe the success of making micro-loans to women to their traditional roles as home-makers and child-caregivers, not to an innate advantage in empathic capability. While there may be profound differences between male and female neurophysiology, the mind is very plastic and can be adapted to almost any role the society makes available. Witness male nurses and stay-at-home dads; female astronauts, CEO's, lawyers and scientists / mathematicians.

3. There is a new book out called "The Evolution of God" by an agnostic journalist who argues that the Abrahamic religions have encouraged a fitful but real journey toward better moral behavior in human relationships. Using game theory, he characterizes this journey as moving from reliance on win-lose models (I kill your tribe or am killed) to win-win models (I empower women in third-world countries thus making myself and family safer). I think this is an interesting hypothesis, and explains the situation as well as a systematize / empathize dialectic. [One might claim that win-win models are more "feminine", but I wouldn't.]

4. As I feebly attempted to advance during the meeting, dismantling the structures of patriarchy (if that's the main culprit) -- it's laws, institutions, and rewards systems -- is a big challenge, and has no real scaled-up models in the modern world to use as patterns. Whether the vestiges of patriarchy can be expunged from the US Constitution and etc without revolution or catastrophe is anyone's guess. Nevertheless, I applaud your hopefulness, and believe that hope is essential to our survival as a species. While many (such as J. Hillman, R. Niebuhr) have argued that hope is not warranted, neither can we make the hard decisions and sustain a movement for change without hope. And a hopeful vision is needed to mobilize the masses. So if patriarchy cannot be dismantled without a belief in the ascendancy of the feminine brain hemisphere, then count me in. And I will continue to celebrate the return of "the goddess" to the religious traditions of which I am a leader.

Thanks for sharing and including me in your company.

Yours, Rev. Ted (Lau)

SPACIOUSNESS

Last night at a gathering of our Pacifica group, each of us lit a candle for some current issue or goal that we wished to focus on. For me it was spaciousness. I have been thinking about that term since my friend Susan K. introduced it to me some time ago, so I decided to share some of my reflections with you.

The usual expectation as we grow old is that our world will shrink, that we will limit our contacts, restrict our activities, and narrow our horizons, that we will largely withdraw from society and will focus more deeply inward. That prospect makes a lot of sense, and I will probably be inclined to do that at some point. But right now I feel an urge to expand my horizons, to reach out for new experiences, to enlarge my outlook, to encompass more people and incorporate more projects into my life. I yearn for more spaciousness.

In my yoga class I do these gentle stretches, thus creating more space in my joints and between my vertebrae (at least that is the way I picture it), and this increased space allows for greater flexibility. Once there is a bit more room between my bones and muscle fibers, it is possible to bend this way and that with much more gracefulness and ease. Having this additional elasticity also makes it less likely that I will fall and injure myself, for I can adjust more quickly to missteps. I feel safer.

I have recently returned to playing the piano, something I had abandoned for years, feeling my fingers were too stiff to perform well. I am now playing, even doing scales, stretching my gnarled and arthritic fingers, giving them much needed exercise, and in the process rediscovering the pleasure of making music. The same principle applies to the voice lessons I have started. By vocalizing, I am exercising my stiffened and thickened vocal chords, and in doing so I hope to elongate them and make them more pliable which will in turn make my singing easier and more pleasing to the ear.

It occurs to me that just as I create a sense of spaciousness in my body, my fingers, and my vocal chords through these gentle exercises, I must also stretch my mind, thus making more room for unfamiliar concepts, for different ways of looking at life, as well as for improved skills in handling all the new technological devices that are currently so popular. In other words, I wish to find greater spaciousness in my thinking. I hope to learn to understand and accept a broader range of perspectives and ways of being in the world. This is not simple, for I live a very protected and insulated life, surrounded by material abundance and immersed in the love of family and friends. For the most part I share common political views and spiritual values with those close to me, a sharing which offers me constant comfort and support, and for that I am deeply grateful. So learning new skills and listening to new and challenging—and admittedly, sometimes distasteful—views requires a definite spaciousness of mind, one that I hope to acquire.

I am reminded of yet another area where spaciousness seems significant, and that is in the heart. When we hear that someone has a “big heart” we assume that person has room for kindness and love for a wide spectrum of humanity. Just as I feel my lungs expanding, making way for more air as I take in deep breaths during my yoga class (and in my voice exercises at home), so I can sense my heart expanding when I open it to feelings of compassion for others, especially for those unlike me—strangers or adversaries. Like yoga, this takes practice, so I am working towards developing a greater ability to open my heart to those I know, to those I don’t know, and to those with whom I have difficulties. This openness holds the rewards of reciprocity, but also involves the chance of occasional rejection and pain.

So, I must be open to all promises and possibilities as I aim for spaciousness—in my body, in my mind, and in my heart. It is a risk I am willing to take.

USEFUL GUIDELINES

As those of you who know me are aware, I am deeply interested in the concept of religion and spirituality. Though brought up in the Southern Baptist tradition, I long ago recognized that I could not fit into that that system of beliefs. In fact, I find it difficult to subscribe to any dogma, and cannot join any institution that requires certainty of belief in something that in my view is unknowable. (I therefore am particularly impressed with the vow in item two below.) There is a vastness and a mystery regarding ultimate purpose and meaning that is beyond our human understanding. Furthermore, I do not like the term “commandments.” It implies that some religious authority is “in command” and that I must adhere to whatever is being ordered. In contrast, I see spirituality as an ongoing practice; I continually strive to behave in ways that are constructive to my own development and that do no harm to others. As in all human endeavors, sometimes I fail, but that does not negate the effort.

Anyway, though I do not like the term, and though I do not understand the meaning of the initial statement “God is the source of liberation,” I find these ten “commandments” written by a rabbi influenced by a Buddhist to be useful guidelines as I try to live a life of psychological health and spiritual fulfillment. In that sense I am sharing them with all of you.


The Ten Commandments
By Rabbi Rami Shapiro as inspired by Thich Nhat Hahn

1. God is the source of liberation. Aware of the suffering caused by enslavement to things and ideas, I vow to free myself from all addictions and compulsive behaviors, both material and spiritual.

2. God cannot be named. Aware of the suffering caused by gods created in our own image for our own profit, I vow to recognize all ideas about God as products of human beings, bound by history and circumstance and forever incapable of defining the Reality Beyond Naming.

3. God cannot be owned. Aware of the suffering caused by the misuse of God and religion in the quest of power, I vow to liberate myself from all ideologies that demonize others, and to honor only those teachings that uphold the freedom and dignity of woman, man, and nature.

4. Remember the Sabbath. Aware of the suffering caused by slavish attachment to work, consumption, and technology, I vow to set aside the Sabbath as a day of personal freedom, creativity, and play.

5. Honor your parents. Aware of the suffering caused by old age, I vow to care for my parents to the best of my ability and to promote the dignity and well-being of all elderly people.

6. Do not murder. Aware of the suffering caused by the wanton destruction of life, I vow to cultivate respect and gentleness toward all beings.

7. Avoid sexual misconduct. Aware of the suffering caused by sexual irresponsibility, I vow to honor human sexuality and never degrade it through violence, ignorance, selfishness, or deceit.

8. Do not steal. Aware of the suffering caused by exploitation, injustice, theft, and oppression, I vow to respect the property of others, to work for the just sharing of resources, and to cultivate generosity in myself and my community.

9. Do not lie. Aware of the suffering caused by harmful speech, I vow to speak truthfully and with compassion, to avoid gossip and slander, and to refrain from uttering words that cause needless division or discord.

10. Do not covet. Aware of the suffering caused by endless desire, I vow to live simply and avoid debt, to enjoy what I have before seeking to have more, and to labor for what I desire, honestly and justly.

Looking Back at 2009

It was in January a year ago that I posted my last blog. I am not sure why I have been so negligent, but perhaps it is because I had an unusual period of illness which made me feel as if I was living through a haze of malaise and lethargy, though actually, now that I look back, it was an eventful and rewarding year, filled with travel, visits from grandchildren, preparation and presentation of a lecture and workshop, and the establishment of new routines. Somehow things look different in retrospect.

It was, most significantly, a year of travel. I was in California four times—twice in San Francisco, once in San Diego and once in Santa Barbara—and also in Washington, D.C. But the most exciting trips were to Europe—twice! I had never imagined I would go abroad again, thinking I am much too old, but when the circumstances arose, how could I refuse? The first occasion was in June when Laura and Dan most generously invited me to accompany them and their family to the south of France.

I was concerned that I might be a hindrance in that my energy would not be sufficient to keep up with my younger travel companions. But I was amazed—and pleased—to find that I could climb up those steep hills in Provence and neighboring regions without too much huffing. We drove through beautiful countryside, saw impressive art, and ate fabulous food. Coming home after each day’s outing to a lovely villa overlooking the Mediterranean was an additional pleasure. It was an absolutely wonderful trip. I was in such a calm and centered mood that my family began referring to me as a “Zen traveler.” I am not sure I deserved the title, but it is true that I was never rattled or impatient. I felt blessed to be alive and to be with those I love. Finding such serenity in the midst of the inevitable challenges of travel was a gift of lasting value.

The second European trip was in late October when I accompanied Jenny, Rocky, and Rebecca to Italy where Nick was studying for a semester at New York University’s campus in Florence. We stayed in a lovely, spacious apartment, conveniently located near the center of the city, though it was on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator. Again I was worried, wondering whether my eighty-one-year-old legs could carry me up all those steps, but again was pleased to learn that I could walk miles each day through the beautiful streets of Florence and still make it up those flights of stairs. (I guess it is time to face the fact that I have far more stamina than I had thought.) In addition to visiting with Nick and seeing his campus, we took in many of the historical and esthetic sights of Florence, traveled into the lovely Tuscan countryside, ate fantastic meals and drank copious amounts of good Italian wine. Again, sharing this experience with members of my family was deeply gratifying.

Another highlight for me this year past was when I was asked by the St. Louis Jung Society to give a weekend lecture and workshop on aging. This is a topic that I have done considerable thinking about (and experienced) so I welcomed the chance to present some of my ideas to an audience. The energy reflected back to me the night of the lecture wiped away all my nervousness and made my presentation seem effortless. The attendance was much better than anticipated: the largest number of persons attended the evening lecture than any previously given at the society, indicating that this is indeed a timely subject. On Saturday there was a smaller group of enthusiastic, engaged, and responsive women who participated in the workshop. The entire weekend was an intensely satisfying experience.

Throughout the year I was blessed with visits from my grandchildren. Each one has managed to spend some time with me—a great blessing in my life. I suppose every grandmother thinks her grandchildren are exceptional, but I have good reason to make that claim! Each one—Carolyn, Rebecca, Jessica, Rachel, Nick, and you too Raven—is interesting and thoughtful; each has good, fundamental ethical and moral values; and each possesses a distinctive outlook enriched with special talents. They are still finding their way in the world so I am privileged to watch and participate in their lives as they grow into full adulthood. I enjoy their company and learn from my conversations and interactions with them. They make me very happy.

In contrast to these uplifting occasions, in February I came down with a rather severe case of flu—fever, congestion, gastro-intestinal upset, and general fatigue which lasted for days. I slowly recovered from most of the symptoms, but the gastro-intestinal difficulties persisted for months, until finally in August I consented to a colonoscopy (a rather traumatic event, but that is another story). The resulting biopsies indicated that I had microscopic colitis, a condition that has slowly improved and now—finally!—seems to be healed. In some strange way, this illness was a valuable lesson, helping prepare me for the inevitability of physical decline as I grow older, and also allowing me to practice acceptance. One effect of the illness, and an unexpected benefit, was a diminishment of appetite, causing me to lose about twenty pounds, so I am now at a healthier weight, one I shall try to maintain.

In keeping with my resolve to remain healthy, I have undertaken a daily regimen of at least twenty minutes each of meditation, yoga, and time on my elliptical machine. The discipline is good for me, helps sustain my strength and flexibility, and allows me to cultivate a more relaxed, but energized, outlook on life. Recently I have added to that daily schedule practice time at the piano. One of my intentions for the coming year, in addition to writing more frequently on my blog, is to begin taking piano and voice lessons—a renewal of old interests and skills that had fallen into disuse. I find that making music is good for the soul.

As this New Year begins, I overflow with gratitude, for I am extraordinarily blessed with abundance—of experiences, of pleasures, of family, of friends, of life. Here is a passage from the Jewish Gates of Prayer, one that seems especially appropriate as I move further into the ultimate stage of my life:

Let us treasure the time we have, and resolve to use it well,
counting each moment precious—a chance to apprehend some truth,
to experience some beauty, to conquer some evil,
to relieve some suffering, to love and be loved,
to achieve something of lasting worth.