Hooky

Anya and I played hooky today.  We baked a cake.  We snuggled and talked. We listened to The Unicorn (which was a regular Sunday-morning-after-church thing when I was a kid; this stands in contrast to our kids listening to the Clash in the car as toddlers).  We watched The Princess Bride (which her brother always refuses to watch for Friday Family Movie).  

In short, we did nothing extraordinary...and yet, it was an extraordinary day.  We needed this, my girl and I.  It was a long semester, and now I'm off to Quito on Sunday for a two-week stint in the archives.  A slow, rainy day to hang out and do silly little things was just the right call.  

Sadly, I can't have the same with Sam. He's off for a three-day class trip to NYC tomorrow, then all day Saturday he goes to the state-level science fair competition. I'm happy for him that he has both of these opportunities. I know that I need to get used to being away from him more, now that he is about to enter his high school years...but I'll miss him so much.

But maybe he and I can play hooky when I return. I think there may be Thai food in our future...

Do your soul a little good...play hooky sometime soon.

Jazz...

NPR had an interview with Jazz pianist Keith Jarrett this morning. We saw him when he played at Boston's Symphony Hall several years ago.  It was when I came up with my only meaningful quote on music (perhaps my only truly meaningful quote ever):

Jazz is the music that happens between the notes of a familiar song. 

I think I might need to get the CD/s Jarrett did in commemoration of his 70th birthday.

50

I’ve been trying to decide what and how to write about this. Hell, I’ve been trying to figure out what I think about this:

Turning 50.

Half a century.

In all likelihood, more than half-way through my life.

(I don’t like to think about that part.)

So, what did I do to commemorate?

I got my hair cut.

Not even a daring new cut—just the standard chin-length bob that is my “go to” short haircut.

My mid-life crisis action was reversible and I’ve done it before. How lame is that?

Still…

I’m 50.

That’s something.

I’m noticing it this decade.

At 40, Anya was an infant, and it was all just “will the baby please sleep and who cares about 40.”

This year…it’s meetings and budget and annual reports and final grading to do not to mention a trip to Ecuador to plan.  No wonder I’d rather think about turning 50.

I can’t quite put my finger on where I should be at 50.

But then, I couldn’t do that at 10, 20, 30, or 40 either.

What I know is that on Friday evening the house was quiet…and there was nowhere on earth I’d rather be than with this silly little family in a post Friday family movie night lull.

And on Sunday I had brunch with friends that I’ve known since Brandeis.  They are as much family to me as my own siblings, and I am forever grateful for these people who have grown through adulthood with me.

I’m also excited to be part of a collective project on female suffrage in the Americas, and to go on the hunt for some voting debates in the Quito archives this June. But don’t want to travel to get there.

And yet: I’m tired and want to slow down and read novels and get off the hamster wheel of working all the time…though I am still not ready or willing to take that leap. I keep talking and talking and talking and thinking and thinking and thinking about it.  I can’t seem to make a compromise and find time/space to bring slow into this life, with work.  Why is that?

Maybe the lesson of my 50s is acceptance.  Accepting where I am in life, lumps and wrinkles and all. Accepting that I am not ready to change my life too drastically just yet (i.e., leave my job), and trusting that I will know when it’s time. Accepting  the choices I’ve made, without regret, and believing that I can still make changes if and how I want to.  

Yeah, that.

Which isn't to say I lack goals: I want to connect more often with those I love. I want to figure out gardening. I want to build a greater sense of community in my life (especially one that is not dependent on work). I want to learn to sew (still--a lifelong, unrealized ambition). I want to contribute, if only I can overcome introversion and lack of confidence to do that. I want to live in harmony with my body. I want to learn to kayak. 

But even all of that requires acceptance--of where I am, what my abilities are, and what strengths/skills/limits I encounter with all these goals (large and small). 

Let’s see if it happens, shall we?

And then at 60, I’ll dye my hair purple. 

Views from Sunday

It was finally a full on spring day here today. Mild and sunny. The perfect day to have a birthday celebration for my boy, who turns 14 on Tuesday. Cake of choice: chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and whoopie pie filling between the layers. He's a smart one, that Samuel. 

Despite the stress of the semester (sooo much to do), it was a pretty mellow day. Once the cake and groceries were taken care of, I found it easy to fit in a few hours of work while sipping my favorite (Irish Breakfast) tea.  Then it was simple to set up a salad bar to go along with cookout food. Birthday cake and presents followed (and espresso for a few of the adults).

Sam's had a great weekend all around, after a stressful week (MCAS, science fair, and endocrine appointment complete with blood work). In addition to birthday celebrations today, he went to a speed cubing competition yesterday and placed third in pyraminx and second in 3 x 3!!!  His 3x3 average was 9.77 seconds, and his best single solve was 9.51 seconds. He was--is--thrilled.  The other silver lining (from his endocrine appointment) was that his A1C was 6.9--great news! (I know, most people don't know what that means--but, it really is a great number for a kid who grew another 2 inches in the past year.)

So much to be grateful for ...spring, healthy kids, loving family, good friends, meaningful work (even if it does make me crazy).  My plan this week is to remember that each day is a gift. No matter how stressful it may be, or how rushed.  Every day is a gift that I am lucky to have, and to have the ability to stop and enjoy if I so choose.

On Privilege and Choice

I recently read a couple of posts on this blog I like where there were heated--and sometimes inappropriately worded--debates on veganism.  I think that the blogger dealt with the issue spectacularly in a follow-up post.  But I also found myself thinking more and more about exactly what bothered me about the times when the comments became harsh.

On the one hand, I stand corrected: I don't claim to be vegan (or at least don't mean to do so), but I have sometimes referred to things like "eating vegan" for periods of time.  Yet there are many who find fault with this because to them, veganism (1) requires a full-time commitment (you are either vegan or not), and (2) is about a way of life that includes, but is not limited to, a plants-only diet.  I found these points mostly reasonable and informative. They reminded me not to overstate what I do with my diet, and I will try to be more careful.  On the other hand, there were some (just a few) "capital V" Vegans commenting who were not just frustrated by the loose way the term is used, but who were also incredibly judgmental of others' choices. In particular, some of them claimed that this was a "belief system" that was about justice and humanitarianism rather than a personal choice.  Non-Vegans, or "fake vegans" (for lack of a better phrase) were all unethical in this view.  

And that is where I take exception.  Big-V Veganism might well be a belief system, but it is also a choice of the privileged.  In this regard, it is similar to those who are capital-letter Minimalists, or Homesteaders, or Home Schoolers.  Don't get me wrong--I admire choices like these, and I aspire  to incorporate some of their ideas into my life, even if I'm not sure if want to live them in their entirety or embrace them as beliefs. (For example, I don't have the skills to be a homesteader, and I believe too deeply in the revolutionary and equalizing potential of public education to choose home schooling--though if that's what one of my kids needed, I would try it.)

The thing is, most people in this world eat little or no meat. Most people live with few material goods. Many people engage in subsistence agriculture.  However, they do so out of necessity.  Most would happily eat and feed their children meat more often if they could afford it--not because they are inhumane, but because it provides protein that might keep them healthier and allow their children the nutrients they need as they grow.  Again: this is not to "dis" Vegans. I deeply admire their conviction and I agree with many of their premises.  I might someday decide to take that leap, even though I am not ready now. What I dislike is the judgment and narrow world vision that I see in a few (not all) of them.  I feel the same about Homesteading and Minimalism.  They are wonderful choices and ways of life--but to ignore the privilege from whence they come, relative to how the majority of people on the planet live, strikes me as at best unhealthy, and at worst dangerous.  

I also think that these are choices of privilege within our own country, not just relative to the Global South.  I might dislike Wal-Mart and Burger King...but I have the good luck to fall into a group (with enough money) that I can choose not to buy clothes or food (etc) there.  But if I were a single parent in a low paying job--or, more likely, two jobs--I'd have far fewer options.  

I'm not saying it's only the wealthy who make morally-based choices like Veganism or Minimalism or Homesteading or Home Schooling.  I suspect that there are plenty of people who make hard choices to do those things. But they are choices, and they aren't options for everyone, whether around the world or here in the US.  

I also worry when these decisions are introduced as black-and-white, good versus evil.  I understand conviction and passion, just not the presumption to know that your way is the only way, or that a particular cause is "all or nothing." The problems of our world are complex, and we humans are flawed enough that not one of us has all the answers.  Extremism, even in causes I support (and even when it's just a minority espousing extreme views), frightens me.

So I guess I'll just keep trying to find my way.  I'll keep trying to discover and follow my deepest values. I'll try to teach my children to make compassionate choices whenever they are lucky enough to have choice. I'll aspire to have the patience to pick myself up and try again as I inevitably fall short of where I want to be.  And I will work on building more compassion to understand that others have their own paths to follow--whether by the privilege of choice or the pain of necessity.  

In short, I'd like my musings on the blog post that started all this to remind me to be humble and compassionate in my own convictions.

How can we embrace differing ideas and human imperfection while still advancing causes we care deeply about? How can we build alliances rather than enmities in the quest to make the world a better and more just place? 

These are the questions I keep coming back to, and wishing I were better at living their answers.

One of Those Days/Weeks

Today was one of those days. No, wait: this week was one of those weeks.  Way too much work, a lot of frustration and overwhelm.

In other words: time for gratitude.

Today, this week, I am grateful for:

1) The girl child who feeds my soul with love and laughter

2) The boy child who wants to understand and make me feel better

3) That husband of mine who always has my back

4) Running into this quote just at the right time: "It is in the giving over to smallness that opens us to misery." (Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening, p. 57)

5) The friends who listen to me when I give over to smallness before stepping back to focus on what really matters

6) Friday Family Movie Night--not a panacea, but certainly a salve for the week's wounds

7) Remembering what can be cut back this weekend to make space not only for work, but also sanity saving walks, family time, and rest

Wishing I knew how to keep perspective all the time.  Surviving because I usually find it after a while.

Pi/e on 3/14/15

It was Pi Day yesterday--a special year (3.1415 and all).  So, we had a Pi/e party with friends.

There was a jumbo Pizza Pi/e:

And butterscotch Pi/e:

And there were several other pi/es to be had--including three different chocolate pi/es!  (And two apple, and one blueberry and one strawberry):

On the savory side, there was a vegan Shepherd's Pi/e--and also a chicken pot Pi/e that was completely eaten before I got back into the kitchen with my camera.

It was a good, relaxed time.  No one batted an eye that I didn't have alcohol out.  Everyone hung around and chatted about life, geek t-shirts, work, kids, hopes for spring, etc.  

I'm hoping that my daughter (seen here with the carnage--I mean, leftovers) noticed that the two mathematicians who came are both women.  Her favorite thing lately is division.  

Maybe I'm slightly better at this party thing than I thought I was. Or maybe I just had my tribe in the house last night.  

And you? Did you celebrate Pi Day?  It won't be this big a deal again for 100 years!