a bigger picture moment

This week I struggled to find the bigger picture moment. There was turmoil, and I tossed and turned, groping for what I was supposed to learn from it, but all I got was lost.

I have a colleague, whom I know others avoid talking to because, well…he’s extreme. Not just extreme, but also incendiary. He enjoys provocation. He’s self-aggrandizing and tries to use huge post-modernist words to sound smart, but usually ends up just obfuscating his leaps in logic. I know this about him, but I’ve always maintained a degree of tolerance, respect, even bemused affection for him, because, you know, at least he’s earnest. And usually I don’t take the bait when he’s being incendiary and provocative because I know it never ends well. He’s always too busy trying to prove he’s right to ever listen to what truth might lie on the other side, and he doesn’t care who he offends in the meantime.

But this time, when he said that America’s institution of marriage was a sham, I had to put a few words in. Except, it’s never just a few words and pretty soon we were into it. Only later, through the course of the argument it started to become clear that he didn’t think committing lifelong to someone was a sham, only having state involvement in it was. He doesn’t believe in signing a legal document about it and he rails against the state’s incentive structure privileging married couples over nonmarried couples. He wondered why the state should be involved at all.

I was willing to grant that he had a valid point in there, though I still argued there are important reasons to want state protection for marriages. (The argument really isn’t important here though and I’m not seeking validation for my side of it.) But his point did make me start looking into the history of marriage and how states ever got involved in the first place. And I thought, maybe this is my bigger picture moment. Engaging with him might make me learn something here. So I waded through material about patriarchy and the historical economic motivations for marriage and the split between church and state and Europe…and I waded…and then…I just. didn’t. care. I stopped.

And after that point, he lost what semblance of respect he had maintained in the conversation and just became flat out insulting, so I stopped responding. But it stuck with me. And I couldn’t figure out why it stuck with me. I didn’t care about proving myself right. I knew better than to be really hurt by his insults because that’s just how he is. I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to learn from this exchange. Tolerance is hard maybe? I just didn’t know.

But then I realized something. He’s just a kid. His arguments may be more eloquent and better considered than those who just say legal marriage is nothing more than the signing of a document. But he has never known what it is to totally subsume himself for something greater. (Or if he has, he must have gotten burned in the process, and that explains why he upholds individual freedom above any other possible value.) There is a profoundly important difference between making promises to your lover in private and getting up in front of everyone you know and love and declaring your commitment. There is a difference when you love someone so much, you’re willing to declare your commitment in a legally binding way. That process transforms you. And no amount of armchair theorizing can tell you how that process changes you until you experience it. A marriage is still prone to weaknesses and no legal stature can totally inoculate it from danger. But the ceremony and tradition links you to all those who have come before you.

And I found I just truly did not care that the state is involved, even if it means we’re pawns in some scheme larger than what we can see. So what if, historically, marriage supported patriarchy? My marriage does not. I don’t have to change the institution of marriage by opting out. I can change it by living it the way we want to, every single day. I’m reminded of a quote by Barbara Kingsolver (bear with me, it’s a little long):

“But his kind will always lose in the end. I know this, and now I know why. Whether it’s wife or nation they occupy, their mistake is the same: they stand still, and their stake moves underneath them….Even a language won’t stand still. A territory is only possessed for a moment in time. They stake everything on that moment, posing for photographs while planting the flag, casting themselves in bronze. Washington crossing the Delaware. The capture of Okinawa. They’re desperate to hang on.

But they can’t. Even before the flagpole begins to peel and splinter, the ground underneath arches and slides forward into its own new destiny. It may bear the marks of boots on its back, but those marks become the possessions of the land. What does Okinawa remember of its fall? Forbidden to make engines of war, Japan made automobiles instead, and won the world. It all moves on.”
– The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver, p. 384.

It all moves on. The state has been involved in marriage for centuries, but the institution of marriage has changed over that time without the state having much say about it. Whereas once marriage might have been a primarily financial consideration to ensure progeny, entered into by a man of at least 30 years of age and a woman under 18, now we marry for love, usually between equals. In the last century alone it has changed. Who knows what it will be a century from now? What matters is the will of the people in it. And we can theorize all we want about the social and political implications, but it all moves on, and people will make of it what they want from it. And that is our power.

I realized that, and I slept soundly. And into my dreams, I did not bring in this argument. I dreamt of different things and lovely things. And when I woke, I kissed my husband good morning.

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Tell It To Me Tuesday – Free

Update: Originally posted on Tuesday, I’m linking this up to this week’s Bigger Picture Moment.

I want to give you some backstory to this post because it probably is more fun in context. Honestly the end point relating to “free” doesn’t really need a whole lot of backstory. I just like the backstory so I’m going to tell it to you anyway. But you might be thinking, “Crap I don’t have time to read a whole long @ss post.” So in case you just want to get to the point, I’ve separated this post into two parts: the backstory and the point. So you can read the prelude if you want to…or you can just get right to the point.

The Prelude: A Train to Munich, or How Jade Met German Alex

The twenty-fourth year of my life was probably one of the hardest ones. Huge emotional turmoil plus I had just started the first year of my grad program, which in and of itself was intense. Going into my twenty-fifth birthday I had an urgent desire to do something big for myself. So I booked a flight to Germany. I had never traveled by myself before, but I had a deep need to prove to myself that I was strong and independent enough to travel to a foreign country, and you know, not get into trouble of the very bad sort.

Right before I left, as a soon-to-be-second-year in the grad program, I was asked to mentor an incoming first year and just happened to be assigned to a German student named Alex. So I sent him an email introducing myself and saying if he had any questions about the program, feel free to ask, etc. Oh and by the way, I’ll be in Germany soon too! And after a flurry of emails, we agreed to meet in Munich and that I would stay with him for four days out of my 2-week trip.

It wasn’t until I was about to board the train to Munich that I started to panic. What the hell was I getting myself into, traveling to meet a man I had never before seen in my life, all by myself, and staying with him? He could be a murderer! Or a rapist! Or any number of skeezy-type things. I turned to my German step-mother-in-law (who wasn’t an in-law at the time at all, but that’s a whole other long story) in my panic and she said, “It’s okay. Let me talk to him.” I gave her his phone number and she called him and grilled him on where I was to stay and who we’d be with and after about a 20-minute interview in which he was interrogated by a complete stranger, she hung up and said, “Ya, he’s fine.”

So I got on the train, got to Munich, and found myself face-to-face with a tall German man with a gruff, scruffy face and a warm, wounded teddy-bear heart (grumpy softies are my favorite kind of person, really). He had gotten a female friend of his to open her place up to a complete stranger and he introduced me to other friends and they took me around the city and we had a fabulous grand old time. And I was really thankful I hadn’t freaked out so much that I had bailed and missed out on all these wonderful people.

Alex soon come to the States and even stayed with me a little while until he got an apartment. Then he met Manouchka (which I know probably sounds Russian or something, but she’s actually from the African nation of Gabon). And after a year together here, Alex and Manouchka left for Gabon and got married there, and have been living there and in Cape Town (South Africa) since (they were even there during the World Cup!). Living in Cape Town has not been so fun for them, since he is white and she is black. Their marriage was met with a great deal of hostility.

So we haven’t seen them in four years, but they are back in L.A. now, and last night we had a mini reunion, wherein we swapped stories…and here I come to my point.

The Point of the Post: Freedom from Tradition, and the Tradition of Freedom

Manouchka was telling us of the funeral of her uncle. Apparently, funerals in Gabonese tradition are quite drawn out, lengthy and heady affairs. It’s not just a service that lasts a few hours, followed by a meal, a few words, and then everyone goes their own way to tend to their grief privately. Funerals in Gabon last a solid week. When it became clear that her uncle, who by her account was not a good man (he was not a really bad man either, but not a good man), was going to pass away, the entire house was prepared. There was a room where his body lay in death, and then there was a room where all the women retreated in to cry (theirs is a matrilineal society). The women stayed there for days, crying and wailing together, trying to cry out everything they could. They emphasized their mourning so that his spirit would not linger. They wore traditional makeup and did not shower. When they emerged, they looked quite wild. They slept outside, anywhere they could find, even on the ground with the mosquitoes. Eventually his body was moved to the village where he was born, for they believe the body must return to its source. The women again retreated into the Crying Room, while Alex waited with the men outside. He did not know what the women were doing; he just sensed he could not follow where the women went. Drummers beat traditional music, and for days they could not really sleep because of the constant drumming and the discomfort of sleeping outside, so that soon they all began to feel as if they were in a trance. The women began to dance to the drum beat, and as they did, they shook their limbs and bodies, to encourage his spirit to go, to free himself from the world, and to not take anyone with him. The dancing and the crying went on through the night culminating just at the break of dawn on the last day. Dawn is believed to be the time when spirits move, and at dawn they shook the last remnants of his spirit free. And then it all stopped. The sun rose with the new day, and they were cleansed and free.

Manouchka said she felt that, in his death, he had more meaning than he had had in his life.

In western cultures we pride ourselves on our freedoms: our freedoms to choose our own paths and forge our own ways. But there is a price for our freedom. We lose the richness of deeply embedded traditions, where every action has a meaning and a symbolism. Many people feel it is only the couple who marry, instead of entire families and communities joining together (and are often quite glad for that for they are estranged from their families). And when we grieve, we grieve alone. And when we die, we die alone. This loss of meaning has an impact. I think that’s why we see so many stories like Eat, Pray, Love where people wander the world in search of meaning. The risk of having complete freedom of direction is that you can become lost along the way. I am not saying this freedom is a bad thing. I too am striving for it in many ways. But while there may be no scientific basis for the need to shake a spirit free, there is no denying the power of a community coming together. And there is no denying the power of such intense grief giving way to catharsis. After that week, there is no more sense of depression, there is no mourning. They are free.

This week’s challenge: Free
You can take that any way you like. Write up something, then just link it up in the comments below!

Next week’s challenge: Origins

P.S. I know not all my readers have blogs, and/or some topics you may not want to share what you’ve written. If you just leave me a comment saying you’ve participated or even just thought about what you would write, I’d be gratified to know!

Join in this week’s Bigger Picture Moment here.

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Finding The Element

If you read nothing else in this life, read this book. I’ve been itching to write a review of it for two days now and haven’t because…because I don’t know why. Because I had a rule in my head that I had to finish it before urging you to read it, even though I knew I was going to recommend it after reading the first page.

I stumbled across his book after a friend posted a link to the author’s speech. You should watch it first. It will give you a really good idea what his book is about. Plus he’s a really entertaining speaker.

His book is called The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything, and oh my is it ever true. He makes a lot of beautiful points about what it takes to find what he calls “the element”: that nexus between aptitude and passion, where what you’re good at meets what you love doing. Through countless examples of really successful people who found success through extraordinary means, Robinson shows how so many people go through life thinking they are not creative, or they’re not particularly good at anything, when nothing could be further from the truth. But true creativity, authenticity, and talent gets crushed by our educational system because it promotes one kind of success, one way of thinking, one route to fulfillment, and it’s becoming ever more standardized and forces children ever more towards conformity.

But when it comes to learning and growing and performing, there is not just one style. He says, “Never underestimate the vital importance of finding early in life the work that for you is play. This turns possible underachievers into happy warriors.” Never underestimate the importance of work that for you is play. We have such a social stigma, don’t we, against actually enjoying our work? People who love their jobs are said to be the lucky ones. Imagine what life would be like if we all allowed ourselves to pursue work that was our passion. Work we hate takes too much energy. It saps the life out of us. Work we love? It gives us energy. It gives us life. And yet, we put ourselves in “sensible jobs” to pay the bills, have stability, etc. because we’ve been told what we really love isn’t a viable option. But as Robinson says, “doing something ‘for your own good’ is rarely for your own good if it causes you to be less than who you really are.”

This isn’t just about personal fulfillment either. If people are pursuing their passions, they work to the fullest of their capacity. Therein lies the magic to maximizing human potential. We don’t just need this as individuals. We need this as a society to grow.

This message isn’t just for the young trying to find their way. It’s for anyone still looking. It’s for mothers with children for whom school doesn’t have a spark, or doesn’t tap into and allow enough space for learning in the area where the child’s heart is. It’s for people looking for a second or even third career. It encourages you to think about how it is you think and learn, in what ways you are intelligent and passionate. And it re-envisages the boundless ways you can use your particular strengths. Maybe you’re really good at memorizing baseball stats. Useless as that may seem to others, who knows…you could just be a really fantastic sports team manager. Maybe you love gardening…who knows, maybe there’s a life for you in landscape design. The point is, it is never too late to try to find it.

He makes a fabulous point about how the education system only prepares for the world as it is now and leaves us hopelessly unprepared for a changing and dynamic future. But the future is incredibly dynamic. Think how much change has occurred just over the past 2 decades. Can any of us say with any certainty what 2030 will look like?

I’m increasingly convinced too that the one career or one job for your entire working lifetime model of our parents’ generation is becoming obsolete. I think that for many industries and avenues for work, many of my generation will have multiple jobs and multiple careers over the span of their lifetime. Being able to adjust and roll with this requires a great deal of versatility and flexibility. It requires thinking about your skill set in broad, open-minded ways. For many of us, I think even the idea of working for large corporations is anathema to our deepest desires and happiness. Many will venture out on their own, as small business owners, freelancers, or otherwise self-made men and women. And for many of these paths, a college degree is not exactly what it takes to succeed.

Did I just really say that? *gasp* Yes I did. After teaching undergrads at the university level for the past 5 or so years, I’ve really begun to feel that pushing kids into college for that “all-mighty degree” is a mistake (perhaps one of even colossal proportions). We are told that you can’t get anywhere anymore without a college degree. Yet, once you get past the interview stage for most jobs…for how many of us has that degree actually mattered? It’s all about what you can do and what you have done. Meanwhile, kids plunk tens of thousands of dollars into a college education and at least 4 years (now going on 5 or more with budget cutbacks), and most students are just not plugged in. They’re not particularly interested in the subjects, certainly not as interested as they are in what grade they’ll get at the end and so they end up just floating through the whole experience. What an enormous waste of time and money for the students, and of expertise and know-how on the part of professors.

Of course I think education is important. But I don’t like this boilerplate model we’re adopting. I think many students would be far better served taking some time off after high school to work or travel to find out what it is that really motivates them. When they find their passion, then they should go to school for it. They’d get far more out of the experience. And it may be that a university is not the best place for them to learn. For a lot of careers, what employers are looking for is talent, not a GPA and magna cum laude. So it may be that looking into a trade school or a series of workshops and working internships is the way to go. Some guidance and feedback is always helpful. But sometimes people really do just learn best and discover their own unique contributions most efficiently simply by doing.

Anyway, take a look at the speech. If it speaks to you, I urge you to try the book.

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Maybe I’m Just An Eternal Optimist

Apparently I’m of the unpopular opinion that the world is not going to hell in a hand basket. Yesterday, Bitch Magazine published an article on the paucity of Gen Y role models for our generation to look up to. The author argued that there is a lack of clear forerunners among our generation and also suggested that the difficulty in identifying one may be related to a lack of consensus on what values that role model should embody. This utter lack then contributes to the difficulty in articulating our own identities.

Jackie OI personally don’t find this lack problematic at all. I think it’s good for people to have role models. But it doesn’t follow that those role models must be all-in-one: my same demographic, same values, and same generation. That would leave little to aspire to, in my opinion. I looked to different people for different things. Some were women; some were men. Most were older – for how many 13-year-olds are truly accomplished? And they came from a myriad of backgrounds. What they had were various things I admired: Jackie O. for her grace and femininity, the Dalai Lama and Rev. Desmond Tutu for their compassion and humility, my mother and father for their strength…there’s no shortage of capable and amazing people in this world. These people did not even need to be indisputable paragons of virtue either. It was my vision of who they were and what they stood for that was important.

As for the lack of consensus on values, I again don’t find this problematic. Diversity is a good thing: it keeps us aware of our limitations and provides balance. When it comes to the difficulty of finding a handful of people to inspire a generation en masse, I think it is the result of a more rich and diverse society and a larger, more diverse media. Generations past, people had the choice of maybe 3 TV stations. Now they have hundreds. Back then it was probably easier to have a small handful of voices captivate the nation. But with so much competition nowadays, it’s more difficult for one person to reach the whole nation. The options now are so diverse you can easily individualize what you are exposed to and almost literally create your own experience. It’s more likely that you’ll get what you want and minimize exposure to what you don’t want, but it does lead to fragmentation, polarization, and disassociation. Add to that an increasingly diverse society, people just aren’t going to be moved en masse by the same ideals anymore. Instead, they find their niches.

However, having such fragmentation does raise a question that the article did touch upon, and that is: what does this mean for the collective? What are the consequences for collective goals and unity? I’m not sure anyone really knows the answer to that at this point. I do think there are signs, though, that our society is going through a massive and fundamental change. Post-financial crisis, people are taking a step back and rethinking their goals, and what they want their legacy to be. And I think there’s a lot going on where people are eschewing old boundaries and “ways things have to be done” and trying more innovative strategies (for example, finding ways to have the flexibility to work from home instead of at the office). With the help of the internet, I think communal ties are being redrawn: shaped less by locale and more by interest. In a way, things are becoming a little more small-d democratic. I personally find it inspiring to watch and I think the end result could be really empowering for a lot of people.

But when I posted that opinion elsewhere, the response was that defining community by superficial and transitory interests cheapens community, that we risk losing our depth as a community if we relegate it all to electronic media instead of spending time just being human, and that rather than people becoming more authentic, there is more of a herd mentality going on.

I don’t take such a bleak view. I think finding others who are also motivated by social justice, or organic gardening, or photography, or whatever can be profoundly inspiring – even if they’re thousands of miles away from you. I think it deepens our ability to connect with and empathize with people who are far away from us. I think the disaster in Haiti and the millions of dollars raised showed just how powerfully people can empathize with one another and how that empathy can be facilitated through electronic media. Sure we weren’t all on the ground there, helping people out of the rubble. But does that make the empathy – and dollars raised – any less meaningful? And just because we make ties through electronic media, that doesn’t mean our ties to family must be any less important. Connecting with people all across the globe does not diminish the quality of time I spend with my family and friends here at home.

Being social animals, I think there are a lot of impulses in human nature that produce conformity or cause people to follow others. I don’t think there’s any more evidence of a herd mentality than there ever was in history. To think so, I think is to forget a lot of human history. But when I look around me, I do see a lot of innovative thinking and a lot of people finding new ways to approach problems and finding different ways to live their lives. Probably, through social media, I see more of it because it’s easier to see what common individuals are doing that maybe isn’t so common.

Sure there’s a lot going on that’s frustrating as all hell. Sure there are many things I wish could be better. But when I look around me, I can see a lot of reason to be hopeful for the future. I think society is going through a very profound change. Not all of it will be good. But I find some of it, at least, very inspiring and empowering.

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tell it to me tuesday – if i could travel in time

There should have been dinosaurs in the Victorian era.I would travel back to biblical times, to early civilizations. I’m not nostalgic about it, but I think I could learn from it. For the most part, life would be hard. And I have no romantic notions of what it was like for women: to own no real property of your own, to have to be completely subservient to the men of the household, to face the threat of ostracism or death for displeasing the wrong person. And everyone faced harsher times, greater threat of starvation, and greater chances of succumbing to disease.

But, for a short period, it would also be refreshing to go somewhere where we’re not surrounded by things. We live surrounded by so much abundance, but we (or I, at least) almost never see it. If I were to sit down and try to count every little item that I own personally, it would probably take days. Yet, I don’t feel I have that much – certainly less than others. And when I go shopping, there are always things I can find to desire.

It just makes me wonder: what would it be like to look around me and see that all the items I own were ones I made with my own hands? What would it be like if I had only one, or at most, two outfits to wear, instead of changing clothes every day? (I’d certainly spend less time in front of the mirror trying to decide what to wear.) What would it be like to grow my own food, raise my own cattle, harvest and slaughter and cook, with my own two hands? (True, I don’t necessarily need to go back in time to do that…but I would, to enter a state where there were no other options.)

And I think, what would it be like to have family not only be the center but also be your entire universe? To have your days filled with common chores. To have all your aunts and sisters and cousins around you working together to make things. What would it be like to create everything we consume?

In part, I think it would be powerful, empowering, humbling, and lovely. But I also think it would really make me appreciate what I do have when I came back to this time and this place. I do appreciate what I have on some levels, but this would add a whole new dimension.

Maybe we can no longer really live in a place where we create everything we consume. But it might be worthwhile to try to create more than we consume. Or, at the very least, be more mindful of how much we consume versus how much we create. I hope when I do leave this earth, I’ll not have just used, but I’ll also have given. I hope, when I leave, I leave behind something worth the space I have taken.

What would you do, if you could travel in time?

TITMTThe Rules
You can respond in any way you choose. You can give a fictional response or a true one. You can use words, sentences, and/or photographs. If you have a blog, you can link it with Mr. Linky below. Please be sure to include “Tell It To Me Tuesdays” in the post, and link back to this post. Feel free to use the “Tell It To Me Tuesday” button available to the right. If you don’t have a blog, but want to join in, you can just leave a comment. Please follow the rules. I don’t want to have to delete links. I like links! Don’t make me delete them.

Next week’s challenge: My worst fear and its consequences
FOR A MILLION EXTRA BONUS POINTS:
If you want to take on an extra challenge, try to write a story in which you don’t tell us explicitly what your worst fear is, but you play out in your head and through words what would happen if your worst fear was realized. We just might surprise ourselves with what we find here.

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i kid you not.

Samitivej Hospital in Bangkok

Samitivej Hospital in Bangkok

The biological clock is ticking and my hubby and I are thinking we’re getting close to being ready to try for kids soon (by soon, I mean probably sometime next year – after we get settled, organized, gather our wits about us, etc.). However, given our plans to move and everything, there is a very distinct possibility that our first child will be born in Thailand (but, through us, can still have US citizenship). Since I have an anal tendency to obsessively research everything, naturally I’ve already looked into this.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time already looking into childbirth and care in the U.S., reading up on how there are some very important hormonal and developmental things that happen between mother and child during the birthing process and cesareans hijack and prohibit them from occurring. Of course cesareans are a godsend in times of need, but there’s growing evidence that a whole slew of unnecessary interventions occur because the mother isn’t going through labor “fast enough” for hospital desires and wishes. There are a lot of decisions to make and options to learn about, but I think one thing is clear for me and that is I want to avoid a cesarean as much as possible (you know, assuming everything goes along as it should).

Thailand is known for having top-quality care available, at rates much more affordable than the U.S. Many of the top doctors in Thailand trained at top medical universities like Johns Hopkins in the U.S., and then go back to Thailand and work there. (Even the King of Thailand was actually born in Cambridge because his father, Prince Mahidol, studied medicine at Harvard – and later became a figure revolutionizing health practices in Thailand.) We hear a lot of stories about people from western countries flying to Thailand for surgeries, with great success, and – flight included – still end up paying less than they would here. My hubby’s even planning to have lasik surgery done while we’re there. So my initial reaction was not to worry about my ability to find good care in Thailand – especially since, in Thailand, for the right price you can basically get whatever you want.

But then I found out something that freaked me the eff out. So, as a reference, the WHO puts a healthy national cesarean rate around 5-10%. There has been a movement to raise awareness and concern about the U.S.’s cesarean rates that are skyrocketing upward from about 4.5% in the mid-1960′s when it was first measured to a high of about 32% in 2007. In Thailand, that rate is around 34% nationwide, and as high as 51% in private hospitals.

I started to worry that it would be difficult to find a doctor who would present me with clear information about my options. I started to fear that I would get pressured into something because it was better for the hospital, but that I’d be too far in pain to think clearly about it. I started to worry about all the precautions and extra arrangements I’d have to make to come back to the U.S….flying while pregnant, staying with parents, possibly being separated from my husband, the extra costs…let the panic attacks commence.

But then I talked to my mom (who was born, raised, and well-educated in Thailand) about my concerns. And she laughed. She said the reason cesareans are so high in Thailand is because women ask for them. They want cesareans so they can plan their child’s birth to fall on a “lucky” day, astrologically. Or, like even some members of my own dear family, they opt for them to keep their special woman parts looking pretty(!).

Oh, said I.

Well, in that case, I think I can stop panicking. I’m pretty sure a “honeymoon” va-jay-jay is not at the top of the list of my concerns.

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tell it to me tuesday – a letter to our sons

When I think of myself having children, somehow I always seem to picture myself having a son. Although there are many reasons I would love to have a daughter and there is no logical or rational reason to expect I would bear a son, it is always a son I imagine.

And if I had a chance to tell him something (other than that I love him), I would probably tell him something very similar to what my father used to tell me. My father always used to tell me to be a lady. What would a lady do or say? That is how I should behave.

So, I would tell my son: Be a gentleman.

It is not old-fashioned to be a gentleman; gentlemen are timeless. Gentlemanly behavior is not weak, nor does it seek to put others down. Gentlemen act with respect towards others as well as themselves.

Gentlemen take ownership. Of themselves, of responsibility, and of their lives.

They live not just for pleasure, but for a higher purpose.

Gentlemen give of themselves to their nation and their community. Whether it be through military service, civic duty, or mentorship, gentlemen do not subscribe to the notion that they are an island.

Gentlemen act not with narcissism, but with pride.

Think of your legacy, not just when you reach the tail end of your days, but also as you move through this beautiful thing called life. What legacy will you leave behind?

Have a dream of who you wish to be and what you wish for your life. Then go out and chase it with everything you’ve got. You can be anything you want, but you do have to work for it. Sometimes we succeed; sometimes we fail. But the most important thing is to put in the very best effort you can. And only you can know whether you’ve given it your very best. Be not afraid of failure, for failure happens to everyone. It is nothing more than the opportunity to learn and try again. The only thing to fear is not being true to yourself.

As your grandfather would say: Be true to who you are, and for that, you must know what your values are. Stay true to your values and you’ll never go wrong.

TITMT

The Rules
You can respond in any way you choose. You can give a fictional response or a true one. You can use words, sentences, and/or photographs. If you have a blog, you can link it with Mr. Linky below. Please be sure to include “Tell It To Me Tuesdays” in the post, and link back to this post. Feel free to use the “Tell It To Me Tuesday” button available to the right. If you don’t have a blog, but want to join in, you can just leave a comment. Please follow the rules. I don’t want to have to delete links. I like links! Don’t make me delete them.

Next week’s challenge: Complete the phrase “It all started…”

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on where i’ve been

Lately, I’ve been feeling so hampered by things I felt I shouldn’t talk about, I’ve started running out of things I can say. For professional and/or superstitious reasons, I’ve kept mum about a lot of things, which is not really a whole lot like me to do. (By that I mean, I believe in freedom of speech and self as well as acting professionally.) Thus far, I’ve kept my professional life out of my blog, and I’ve kept my blog personal. But the truth is, the professional and the personal are becoming so intertwined in my life that to not talk about what I do is to not talk about my life at all. Pretty much, anyway. In any case, it’s gotten to the point where I don’t really remember any of the reasons I should keep quiet anymore. Meanwhile, my blog is starting to look like a series of book reviews. Not that that is a bad thing, just it’s not what my blog’s about.

But the truth is…my life is changing. I’m excited, and maybe a little bit anxious, and definitely impatient…but surprisingly not nearly as stressed as I probably should be. Mostly I’m just totally at peace with our decisions and our path. I was definitely ten times more stressed planning our wedding than I was about these changes.

So I’ve decided it is time. Funnily enough, my decision came this morning, this day: the eve of the one year anniversary of my blog. I had planned to repost an older post to celebrate the one year anniversary tomorrow, but instead of looking back, I’ll be telling you about the path ahead. Apropos, no?

So the next little series of posts (aside from tomorrow’s Tell It To Me Tuesday challenge, of course) will be about the different changes my life is about to go through. The wheels of change are in motion, and I can’t wait to spill the beans. (How’s that for cliche and mixed metaphors?)

But for today, I will start small and tell you where I’ve been for the past week.

Saturday was my dad’s 73rd birthday. My husband couldn’t be there because his company has a yearly retreat in Portland where the company gets together to work to play, so we decided to go the weekend prior so my husband could have a little time visiting my parents. But then, I had a meeting scheduled down in my parents’ neighborhood on Thursday, so I decided to stay for the week, and brought my husband’s sister along too.

Actually, the meeting was at my parent’s restaurant. Did I tell you they own a Thai restaurant? My mom is a chef trained by the chef who trains the chefs for the king of Thailand. Their restaurant, Spice Thai, is in Lake Forest, CA…near Irvine. If you’re ever within a 100-mile radius, you really should check it out. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

Anyway, so last Sunday, my hubby, SIL, and I took my niece to Knott’s Berry Farm for the afternoon. The siblings got some time to ride the big, scary roller coasters, while I got to show my 5-year old niece the fun of Camp Snoopy. She really loved the Gr8 Sk8 ride, but was totally captivated by the beautiful horses pulling the stagecoach so she couldn’t wait for a chance to ride with the horses. We waited in a really long line, and got right up to the front when the earthquake hit. At first, I wasn’t sure it was an earthquake. We had just walked onto a wooden platform and so at first I thought it was just the platform swaying. But then, it kept on going. It lasted for such a long time, but it wasn’t the jolting kind of earthquake – it was more like large, rolling waves. As if I were just woozy. It was only after it finally stopped that I reacted. But Californians, bless their hearts, are so unfazed. I asked the people around me if they felt it and they nodded…then after about 5 minutes they all began to ask when the rides would be up and running again. The staff at Knott’s shut down all the rides for inspection – and stuck between a promise to a quiet, shy, but oh-so-sweet 5-year-old niece that we’d get to ride the horses and being next in line, we ended up waiting nearly an hour before the all-clear to get on the stagecoach. Had it been a mechanical roller-coaster type of ride, I wouldn’t have waited. But the wistful eyes of a child tempted by “all the pretty horsies” – who were likewise unfazed by the earthquake – were irresistible. After the safety inspections cleared, we had our ride. And I urged my parents and sister to get her horseback riding lessons one day. (I wish I could show you pictures, but my hubby has the camera with the pictures on it.)

The next night, my hubby left so he could work, and thus began our week apart.

Thursday, I had my meeting, which went really well – more on that tomorrow!

Then Saturday was my dad’s birthday. We made beef stew, roast chicken, chutney, green bean and walnut salad, mango salsa and guacamole and had a bunch of friends and family over to celebrate. I wish I had pictures, but somehow, even though I brought my camera, I disconnected from it for most of the week. (I didn’t even participate in You Capture!) I think I was so enveloped in bonding and just being with family I don’t see nearly enough of, that I couldn’t pull myself out of it enough to be the observer one has to be in order to take photographs.

Finally, yesterday we celebrated the Thai New Year. We went to the Thai Buddhist temple in Ontario and my family prepared enormous pots of food to serve at the temple. Thai restaurants had stalls set up on the temple grounds, giving food as a donation to the temple so people could eat all the Thai food they could fit and not pay a single cent. Once our stall was set up, my mother, SIL and I went into the temple. We gave our family’s contribution to the monks, paid our respects, then sat for the ceremony. I always love the part where the monks chant the Commandments and the people recite them back in unison. It is done in Sanskrit, and the old language spoken with the multitude of voices is always very moving for me.

I don’t have pictures of that either, but I do have some from the Buddhist part of our wedding ceremony nearly two years ago. I thought I would share those, so you could have an idea. (Photos courtesy of Kelly Segre Photography.)

The ceremony at my parents' house. Hubby and I are in the middle.

The ceremony at my parents' house. Hubby and I are in the middle.

Offerings to the Buddha

Offerings to the Buddha

Paying respects to the Buddha

Paying respects to the Buddha

I love the happy smile on his face.

I love the happy smile on his face.

My beautiful mother.

My beautiful mother.

The niece I mentioned. Daughter of my sister.

The niece I mentioned. Daughter of my sister.

I couldn't resist reminiscing in going back over the photos!

I couldn't resist reminiscing in going back over the photos!

Then we ate. Some good friends joined us, eyes wide with all the free food and new year’s celebrations, and within the hour, our bellies were wide and full too!

And after all the celebrations were over, I came back home last night. I walked in the door to an empty apartment and after a week filled with family, you’d think I’d relish the peace and quiet. Instead, I felt the full brunt of loneliness. One more day and my husband will be home again. I can’t wait to see him.

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the feminine mystique and the men left behind

what happened to the boys?I’ve been reading Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, a book that is credited with launching the Second Wave of the feminist movement, and I must confess I’m having difficulty really identifying with many of her claims. It might not be surprising, given we are of different generations, but on the other hand, a lot of the starting points and issues she draws attention to are still relevant today. She just takes them in a completely different direction than I would go. But I think that will be the subject of another post.

However, there is one point Friedan touched on and I wish she had developed it more: and that is the role of the men. The edition I have is an updated one with a couple of added introductions. The chapter I found most intriguing was one of these introductions, where she reflects back, two generations later and assesses the change. What I love about this chapter is that she doesn’t just focus on what changes have occurred for women, but also the impact on society as a whole. And as Friedan observes, the truth is, changing a woman’s world means changing the world of men too and a lot of the feminist movement does not really address that. Meanwhile, books that take on the masculine mystique and focus on the “men’s movement” have largely been copies in reverse of women’s lib and are thus inauthentic. Or they are an outmoded brand of machismo that reflects only an obsolete form of masculinity.

I believe the problem is that such a paradigm shift does alter the identity of men, but somehow they’ve never really had a larger cultural conversation about where to go and how to change in positive ways along with women. What the women’s movement has focused on is the reactionary man who bemoans the loss of job and income and retaliates through sexual harassment and violence. What it neglects to consider is the larger proportion of men who do have a desire to be positive contributors to society, but who have along the way lost a clear role model and are left to fend for themselves in navigating personal ethics.

My husband and I have been watching a lot of Mad Men lately and it occurs to me that Don Draper is a portrait of the all-American male: the man every other man wished he was. He has a lot of charm, smooth power, wealth, looks. He’s got a beautiful wife and family, home and car. When it comes to office politics, he exercises a lot of power and control, but he does it with finesse. He keeps underlings in their place, but he also does not resort to cheap jokes at the expense of others. He remains quiet – or occasionally puts others in check – when they smear another man’s honor.

But for the modern man, the old paradigm doesn’t quite work anymore for today’s society. Man’s relationship to women has to change as he shares earning power and household politics with her, as he shares more household duties and the gender lines become blurred. Blurring these lines necessarily call masculinity into question, asking society to redefine what being male truly means. Fathers have also become problematic role models because through problems caused by divorce or changing societal values in a whole slew of issues, men often face disillusionment with their fathers. Many have difficult relationships with their fathers in which they either become so disillusioned they draw away from them or they have to suffer through a period in which they try to renegotiate a new relationship with their fathers. A relationship in which they reconcile themselves to the notion that their father may not be the hero they once thought their father should be, but at least they can accept him for who he is.

Among friends, role models become even harder to find. Susan Walsh has an excellent blog on today’s hookup culture, and what I draw from it is that there is often an identity schism for male friends as well. In the past, men would have looked up to and admired the alpha males, the Don Drapers of society. But today’s alpha male often comes across as…well, kind of a dick. The beta males might wish they had some of the things alpha males have…but they don’t really want to actually be who the alpha male is. They have to compete with them, but they don’t admire them anymore. Likewise, women might fall head over heels for the Don Draper type in the past. But today many women feel they have to choose. They choose the alpha male to have sex with, but when it comes to marriage, they want the beta males – because the alphas are all just misogynist a-holes. (Actually, increasingly women seem to be more attracted to men with more feminine features!) Women sometimes do fall in love with the alpha males, but they often want to change them, redeem them, tame them – thus turning them into more of a beta male. In which case, they don’t love the alpha male at all. Rather they love just an idea of him. And the guys who are really great guys often end up feeling like they finish last.

Without clear role models, the result is many men are left suffering an identity crisis – one that seems to last longer and longer. And we have movies like Up In The Air and Greenberg about men well into their 40′s, still struggling to figure out what they want from life and who they want to be.

The thing is, many men do want to be good fathers, good husbands, and positive contributors to their work place and community. They do want wives they can talk to and respect. Ethics are important to them, but they have discovered they must figure out for themselves what those ethics are. Measures of success are personal – not compared to the Jones’s. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, as long as it authentic and they can respect themselves as individuals, it is a good thing. But it is problematic when 62% of men say they miss the day when a person’s word and a handshake meant something. It is a problem when men report feeling lost, confused, left behind. It is a problem when men begin to fall behind women in school, dropping out at higher rates and performing poorly in classes.

Women’s liberation does not work if it comes at the expense of their husbands, friends, and sons. We haven’t changed societal mores if we repress or scoff at honest fears and concerns, when men feel they are muzzled by political correctness. We shouldn’t accept misogyny, but that doesn’t give us license to repress men either: that merely reverses the roles, but keeps us locked in obsolete rituals of power. What I love from Friedan’s chapter is that, even though she did not delve into the intricacies of the role of man today, she did end with a beautiful summation of what we should be trying to achieve: “Grown-up men and women….become more and more authentically themselves. And they do not pretend that men are from Mars or women are from Venus. They even share each other’s interests, talk a common shorthand of work, love, play, kids, politics. We may now begin to glimpse the new human possibilities when women and men are finally free to be themselves, know each other for who they really are, and define the terms and measures of success, failure, joy, triumph, power, and the common good, together.”

In short: equal, but in a way that simultaneously celebrates individuality, personality, and working together for the common good. What she doesn’t say, but what I think underlines her words is the necessity for mutual respect and open curiosity to engage each other.

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tell it to me tuesday – a letter to our daughters

To the Daughters of our Nation,

What I’m about to say might seem counter-intuitive. And it might seem like I’m making something big out of something that should come naturally. But I’m pretty sure it doesn’t come naturally to a lot of people.

Learning to love yourself is one of the hardest and most important things you can do in this life. Loving yourself doesn’t mean being selfish. It doesn’t mean putting your needs before someone else’s. And it doesn’t mean doing whatever you think is fun just for the sake of it.

Loving yourself means figuring out who you really are – a process that takes time, if for no other reason than the fact that you change over time. It means self-reflection. Repeatedly. Sometimes you like what you see, sometimes you don’t. And so you have to acknowledge that and figure out what parts you’re okay with and what parts you want to strive to change and make better. All of that takes time.

Loving yourself means respecting yourself. So you won’t put up with the BS of a hookup culture when what you really want is love. You won’t believe the lies of selfish men because you know what the actions of a worthwhile man look like. You’ll stand up for yourself when others put you down, but in ways that treat them with respect regardless.

Loving yourself means figuring out what would make you deep in your bones happy and reaching for it, even when others say you can’t have it. It means ignoring yourself when you say you can’t have it. Especially because you realize that happiness is not in the attainment of things or of money. It is in the stuff you cannot see.

It is a lie that you cannot love others when you don’t love yourself. You can indeed love others even without self-love. But you can love others better and more freely when you love yourself. When you don’t, there is too much need tangled up in the love and it is difficult to see which is which. There are more rules and obligations and less trust. Not so when you love yourself first.

There is more freedom in the space of love when you first love yourself.

All of this I say to you. With love,
Jade

What would you tell our nation’s daughters?

TITMT

The Rules
You can respond in any way you choose. You can give a fictional response or a true one. You can use words, sentences, and/or photographs. If you have a blog, you can link it with Mr. Linky below. Please be sure to include “Tell It To Me Tuesdays” in the post, and link back to this post. Feel free to use the “Tell It To Me Tuesday” button available to the right. If you don’t have a blog, but want to join in, you can just leave a comment. Please follow the rules. I don’t want to have to delete links. I like links! Don’t make me delete them.

Next week’s challenge: Souls


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