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Remembering students I taught~

7/30/2013

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Walking along Goodman Hill Road today got me thinking about the students that I taught over the years. As I photographed some of their houses, it felt like half of them lived on right on that road. Of course that isn’t true.

     Those teaching years were not silent, solitary or simple. The best I could do was get up early to fit in a little centering time for myself. Now these students are grownups and I have to trust that they are doing what they can to get a little alone time each day before their busy life of job and family begins.

    I’m hoping that one in particular (not from Goodman Hill) is taking a little centering time. This evening Scott Nix will be  sworn in as chief of police in his hometown and mine. I’m mighty proud of him. He was a caring, humble, confident, conscientious second grader, and from all accounts he still has those qualities.


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I wanna be that someone~

7/29/2013

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PictureNo, I didn't snap this one.
I love what Thomas Merton wrote: “Someone has to try to keep his head clear of static and preserve the interior solitude and silence that are essential for independent thought.” I want to be that someone. In fact, from time to time I’m sure we all want to be that someone. 

      For me, being that someone is why I sit in silence and solitude and try to simplify my life. If you see me out in public, you’d never know it because I have a fairly well-developed extroverted side. Obviously, no one ever sees the real introverted me. The closest you can come is reading this blog and knowing that I sometimes go off for days to be alone. It’s during those time that I try to keep my head clear of static, static generated by the news or by excessive social and family chatter. It during those times that my independent thought claims that essential me. OR, is it the other way around?  


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Solitude in a crowd~

7/26/2013

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Boston has experienced more than it’s fair share of trauma lately, and it’s still going on: the Boston Marathon bombing, the Whitey Bulger trial, and earlier this week the horrific murder of 24 year old Amy Lord. The city keeps coming together and we can even see the good in people that arises from such tragedies. We wear our Boston Strong and Red Sox t-shirts with pride.

     I love taking the T into this full-of-life city and wandering about Copley Square, the Boston Common, Beacon Hill, the Freedom Trail and Quincy Market. Of course I do so during the daytime and although I often go alone, I seek solitude within the crowds. Whenever and wherever I travel, my solitude is not synonymous with being all by myself.

     All of us, but particularly women, need to be alert and thoughtful about our solitude. How sad it is to realize that good intentions are not enough. Striving for silence, solitude and simplicity may feel spiritual, healthy, sacred, generous, you name it, and it often is, but it doesn’t protect me from danger. When I am at the cottage I lock the doors and keep my cell phone with me; when I travel I keep my wallet close to my body; when I walk I am out in the open in public places.

     We all have our special ways of staying alert to danger and physical mishap. This week it has been suggested that the women in Boston remove their earphones, turn off their iPods and pay attention to the present moment and their immediate surroundings. Um, I like it. 


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Letting go of schadenfreude~

7/24/2013

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I’m trying to refrain from giving opinions and suggestions to other people.  Of course, I’m still at the trying stage (and always will be to some extent) because it is mighty hard to keep quiet and refrain from offering my critique or telling people what I believe they should do. But think about it. Most of the people with whom I interact already have a cadre of ideas about what they should/would/could do. And besides, they haven’t asked for my opinion (nor do I usually ask for theirs).

     I’ve been writing about this quest for silence, solitude and simplicity for almost three years now. Clearly it involves more than just turning off the TV, sitting alone in a room, or getting rid of stuff. It is about stilling the mind/body/spirit, which includes stepping out of the mainstream of life, where critique, opinion, and the need to be ‘right’ are part of every day living.

     Letting go of offering opinions is a precursor to letting go of having judgments. We all experience some schadenfreude--the satisfaction or pleasure we feel at someone else’s misfortune--which is at the core of many judgments. The challenge is to discern when the opinions we offer are really some form of schadenfreude in disguise, and then, if so, let them go.

     I realize that this path toward silence, solitude and simplicity removes me from some aspects of the social mainstream. As I share fewer stories about others people, conversational encounters will shift. Hopefully I’ll become a better listener. That’s how it was with my mom. When she was told of someone’s plight (or success), she would smile and leave it at that. No opinion or critique from her, although sometimes she would respond to a negative story with, “Well, I don’t know about that.”


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Racial profiling--it happened to me

7/21/2013

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PictureWe learn it early.
Along with many in this country, I’ve been thinking about racial profiling. It happened to me the other day, but because I am white, I received the benefits. It happened in Morristown, New Jersey but it could have happened anywhere in the U.S.A.

       We met our daughter about midpoint between our two homes to transfer our granddaughter and a trunk full of ‘treasures’ going from our house to hers. Our cell phones directed us to the parking lot of an old-house-turned-architect’s-office, and due to the ninety degree temperature, we were anxious to make the switch as quickly as possible and be on our way to our homes in our air conditioned cars.

     So, without considering the ramifications, I walked into the building hoping to use the bathroom. At first no one was around, but soon a professional looking white male, white shirt sleeves rolled up, came out of his office.

      He looked me over. “This is a private office.” Another glance at me.

      I looked at him and smiled. “I was wondering if I could use the bathroom.” Another smile.

       Another glance at me. Pause. “Of course, it’s right this way.”

       Need I say more?


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Food choices~

7/19/2013

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I don’t keep up with the news very much but occasionally I watch the PBS NewsHour. No way does the show let me forget the poverty and devastation in the world! Many people have no control over what happens to them—that’s one of the messages. War, suicide bombings, at least 1127 workers killed in a garment factory collapse in Bangladesh, hu children poisoned through free school lunch programs in India. Limited choices, or no choices about their diet, or even about the choice NOT to starve to death.

     And here I am, just back from the local supermarket after making choices primarily by personal preference, with healthy eating coming in second. Although I’m trying to lower my cholesterol by eliminating chunks of cheese from my daily diet (protein, I tell myself), I must admit that my trying is often mighty pathetic. What’s a little piece of cheese once in a while?

      When I watch the news I can’t help but conclude that my longing to lead a simple life is completely inadequate as far as most of the rest of the world is concerned. The impoverished eat simple food out of necessity. I am choosing to lead a simple life, and when I feel like it, I eat simple food.


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A 'cottage day'~

7/18/2013

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My first full day of solitude in two weeks, which I call a 'cottage day'. Oh, I had some moments and even hours here and there, but a day alone, with no obligations, is very different. Of course, I have things to do, but I don’t have to do them; and of course some of them will get done. So far today I’ve walked, made up the guest beds, started a load of laundry and taken a walk. I’ve also worked on the message I’m giving at church this Sunday. In a bit I’m going to begin a new jigsaw puzzle, do a little knitting and practice my recorder. And all of this in simple silence and solitude on a summer’s day .
    Maybe you can create a 'cottage day' for yourself.

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Solitude among gravestones~

7/14/2013

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My twelve year old granddaughter is visiting for what she calls her ‘grandcation’, which is a vacation just for her with her grandparents. This year she is into photography and has chosen graveyards for subject matter. Actually, around here the old ones are called burial grounds. Today I have brought a chair, book, computer and snacks. While she is off with her camera and tripod, I am sitting in the silence and solitude.

     There’s something especially peaceful about cemeteries, peaceful but not desolate, offering a deeply relaxing combination of solitude and community. People drive in and out to visit graves of loved ones; others wander about reading the stones, which is what I often do.

      Gravestones from the Revolutionary War period tell of infant deaths, of young adults, of beloved husbands and wives, of friends. Along with dates and age, there is often a phrase that captures the essence of the person. Of course the story is never offered in fullness, but the meager but meaningful information is enough to make me feel that I am part of the extended family, perhaps visiting for those who have joined their loved ones in the common burial ground.


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Cleaning up 'Cat in the Hat' style~

7/12/2013

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I’m out in the yard, the Camp Fisher yard, typing away. It’s extremely mellow around here today; the remaining six of us are reading, walking, doing projects, chatting, napping. There are plenty of places to go for solitude and silence.

However, if I look around, both inside and out, I don’t see much simplicity. There is stuff everywhere, but I’m Camp Cook, and not in charge of buildings and grounds. Nevertheless, when it’s time, I won’t be amazed at how quickly we clean up. We are as fast as the Cat in the Hat, who got everything in order before ‘our mother’ got home. Of course I’m the mother, but I’m also the Cat; and thankfully there is another Cat, my husband.


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No more 'free' rides on the T~

7/10/2013

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“Where has all the silence gone, long time passing.” Well, after the rapid’s ride, a quiet has returned. In fact all twelve of us have sought our own little chunks of silence, solitude and simplicity. Half of the family group has dispersed and the other half are scattered about the house and yard.

     Yesterday I took the T to Boston to have lunch with a friend from Spokane. Fox News was parked in front of MGH hoping, I presume, for a breaking news photo of John Kerry or Teresa Heinz.

    The ride on the T felt unusually calming. But why? Since my last ride a few months ago, the MBTA has eliminated all the ways to ride without paying. As a start, only the front door is opened so everyone has to develop a little personal relationship with the conductor: pay, or show or scan your ticket. No more getting on in the back and pretending you have a pass. I watched the conductor refuse rides to several people; one had an invalid ticket, another said she only had a twenty, a third mumbled that he was in a hurry for an appointment. The conductor just pointed to the ticket kiosk on the platform and indicated that another train would be coming soon. In response to my ‘compliment’ about it, the conductor told me that there were no exceptions. “I got in trouble for letting a homeless person on free.”

      I’m wondering what was so calming about the ride? Best I can come up with is that everyone was exuding honest energy--no nervous energy of the cheating variety.


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