YOU'RE DOING GREAT; NOW, LEAVE ME ALONE

When my daughters were toddlers and beyond, I responded to their actions and words by naming them -- clever, resourceful, kind, persistent etc. Sometimes, I would tell them something was unkind or dangerous, Now, my daughters are doing the same with their children.  They are going beyond "good job" and "stop that" to name the qualities they are seeing.  

I applaud this feedback.

It appears, however, that a great many people did not receive positive feedback from their parents and caregivers. or possibly they received a boatload of negative feedback. How else to explain the multiple requests for assessment I receive daily?

Almost every time I visit a doctor, hire someone to provide a service, or order something online, a survey asking how he/she/they did will follow.  Sometimes the requests for assessment come before the service is provided . . .

Seriously?  Are they that needy?

I have a life, people.  I'm not going to fill out your surveys.  

Here's another puzzlement.  I listen to a lot of podcasts, which often involve interviews.  It used to be that an interviewee would occasionally respond to a question by saying, "That's a great question."  Now, hardly an interview goes by without these words being spoken.

Honestly, the questions aren't always all that great.  And even if they are, isn't it the job of the interviewer to ask great questions? Is the interviewee stalling in order to come up with an answer? Inquiring minds want to know.  

And while I'm on my soapbox, I'm also not going to open the multiple texts I receive asking for money.  I'm going to block those numbers every time.  It's not that I'm against making charitable contributions.  To the contrary, I make them regularly. It's just that I don't want to see these requests in my text feed. Texts are for brief communications with family and friends.  

So, leave me alone, already. 

Same with requests for political contributions.  Not on my text feed.  Not on your life.  

And then there are the phone calls.  I no longer answer calls from unknown phone numbers.  If a call isn't from a scammer, I assume the caller will leave a message.  Come to think of it, scammers leave messages too . . .

For some reason email stopped working on my phone a few months ago, and I decided not to try to fix it.  So, I'm not dealing with those incessant dings anymore. Yay!  (Actually, a friend suggested turning off notifications for emails, which I did, but not having emails on my phone is even better.)

As for people who come to the house wanting to sell me something, I try to be polite.  I tell them they may give me literature, but I will not agree to anything while speaking through my front door.  (And I'm definitely not inviting them in.)

So, is it just me or do I have companions in wanting to ward off these intrusions?

 

                                        Photo by Nadine Shaabana on Unsplash

LIVING WITH MYSTERY - WALKING IN WONDER

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about mystery.  In particular, I have been thinking about what the Irish mystic and poet John O’Donohue called “the mystery of being here.”

And, because I have three baby granddaughters, born within six months of each other, I have also been thinking about the fact that when we are very young, we simply accept the circumstances into which we are born – the shape and size and feel of our parents and others who care for us; the four walls of our home; the toys on our floor.  There are tasks to attend to – we must learn to sit up, to crawl, to walk, to talk.  These tasks are all-consuming.  The present is all there is.  

At this stage, as far as I know, we aren’t capable of thinking about the mystery of being here; we are, instead, experiencing the wonder of being here.  Each new thing or person we encounter is an amazement.  We are dazzled.

And then at some point the questions begin.  First come the answerable questions (even if one must resort to Google), such as:

Why is the sky blue?

What is snow?

Then come answerable questions that require a bit of finesse.   Here are a couple asked by a daughter of mine before age four:

How did I get out of the baby tummy?

How did I get into the baby tummy?

(I did answer these honestly.)

Then come the questions asked just before bedtime, when you really want to go to sleep.  Here is a further sample from a daughter, aged maybe 12:  What was the Vietnam war about, anyway?

And, eventually, along come the cosmic questions:

Where did we come from?

Why are we here?

Why do we suffer?

Why do we die

What happens when we die?

At first the cosmic questions take up a lot of space, at least, for me, they did.  But here’s the thing -- the older I get, the more comfortable I am with mystery, the more willing I am to accept the questions as being unanswerable.  

I am deeply perplexed by claims to certain answers to any of these questions.  I do not understand such certainty.  Where does it come from?  The poet Mary Oliver speaks for me on this subject:

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous

 to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the

 mouths of the lambs.

How rivers and stones are forever

In allegiance with gravity

 while we ourselves dream of rising.

How two hands touch and the bonds will 

 never be broken

How people come, from delight or the 

 scars of damage,

to the comfort of a poem.

 

Let me keep my distance, always, from those 

 who think they have the answers.

 

Let me keep company always with those who say 

 "Look!" and laugh in astonishment, 

 and bow their heads.

 

It’s true, I do have some intuitions about the cosmic questions; you might even say I have faith in my intuitions.  Still, I do not lay claim to any certainties.  And I have no interest in trying to convince anyone that my intuitions are correct.  (Let me add that I am as uncomfortable with atheistic certainty—what I call unholier than thou – as I am with religious certainty.)  

 

A number of years ago, I read the book Leaving Church:  A Memoir of Faith by the Episcopal priest Barbara Brown Taylor.  She recounted that several of her parishioners had come to her, struggling with questions of belief, and she began to realize that she was more interested in beholding than believing.

 

Beholding.  I like that word.  It allows for mystery.  It allows for wonder.  

 

Here's the thing about certainty; it cuts off curiosity at its knees.  Certainty is a hardening of our ideas, a shutting down of the possibility that there is another way of looking at things.  Acceptance of mystery allows for curiosity, for expansiveness, for taking in new ideas, for the possibility of harkening back to the wonder of our earliest years. 

 

I return to the wisdom of John O’ Donohue:

 

Awaken to the mystery of being here 

and enter the quiet immensity of your own presence. 

Have joy and peace in the temple of your senses.

Receive encouragement when new frontiers beckon. 

Respond to the call of your gift and the courage to follow its           path...

May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of soul. 

May you take time to celebrate the quiet miracles that seek no attention...

May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder.

  

As we begin this new year, may we each awaken to, and accept, the mystery of being here.  And may we, with O'Donohue and my granddaughters, behold all that is around us “as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder.”

                                   Photo by Guillermo Ferla on Unsplash

MORE QUESTIONS IN SEARCH OF ANSWERS

I have been here before--pondering persistent questions.**

Yet, just when I think I have listed all of my puzzlements for your perusal, I once again find myself with questions large and small.  And, of course, I have more time than usual at the moment to ponder these mysteries.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

So, here we go--one more time.


Why do:


- people buy bottled water in preparation for a pandemic?  

Our water supply is intact and, as far as I know, in no way threatened.  And, for the love of God, do we really need to fill our shopping carts with more plastic?  If you don't like your tap water, then buy a filter.  And please note that 50 percent of the bottled water for sale comes from municipal water supplies -- same as the water coming out of your faucet.

- people hoard toilet paper during the current pandemic? 

Seriously, what is this about?  We are not living through an epidemic of dysentery.  Come on people.  Back away from the TP.  (If you're really worried, maybe buy a bidet attachment.)

- people bring assault weapons to protests?

I am horrified by pictures of people protesting the pandemic lockdown with assault weapons in their hands.  Yes, I know that the First Amendment provides that "Congress shall make no law . . . abridging . . . the right of the people peaceably to assemble," but how is openly displaying assault weapons "peaceable"?

Leaving behind the pandemic, why do:

- people make so few phone calls, now that phone calling is free?

Before I retired, I worked at an office 13 miles from my home.  And although that isn't very far, the two were in different states.  Thus, until the advent of cell phones, Skype etc., my calls home involved long-distance charges.  Same with calls from home to friends and family back east.  (Yes, children, in the dark ages--say, 15 years ago--there there was no way to avoid paying for phone calls to places outside one's very-circumscribed local area.)

It strikes me as ironic that now, when phone calls to almost anywhere are free, many people seem to prefer email and texting. But isn't there something warmer about hearing a voice? With its inflections and nuances?  Or am I just old?  How I would have loved a free phone call in the even darker ages (pre-email) when our only option was to write letters or call on Sunday when the long-distance charge was less.  (I have noticed bit more willingness to talk on the phone since we have been in isolation.)

- people say, "You deserve it" when I ponder whether to buy something?

The word "deserve" in this context makes me uncomfortable.  What does this say about those who cannot afford what I am thinking about buying?  Do they not deserve to have the thing I am purchasing?  Maybe we should say, "You will enjoy it" or "You can afford it." Suggestions?

- people say "woman author," "woman judge," "woman astronaut"?

We wouldn't say "man author" or "man judge."  We would say "male author" or "male judge."  Perhaps the day will come when it no longer feels necessary to identify people by gender, but as long as we are still dealing in firsts, as in "first female chairperson," can we please be consistent?

- companies send me emails with subject lines such as "Are you aging well? and "You need an air fryer in your life"?

They can't really think I will open these. (And what is an air fryer, anyway?  If I don't know what it is, I doubt that I need one.)

- companies sell solid deodorant in a package made of this much plastic when only a fraction of the package is actually needed for the small amount of deodorant inside?

(Yes, I know.  They are trying to fool me into thinking I am getting more product.) And might I add, when the solid deodorant starts to dwindle, it falls out as you screw it up from the bottom.

I have switched to this:

Check it out--made by a local small-business owner (and she ships).  

What is causing you to scratch your head in confusion these days? May your questions all have answers.  And please stay home and stay safe!



**See:  Inquiring Minds Want to Know  know and Why Do They Do That?  

INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW

A few years back I posted about nagging questions. I have since accumulated a bunch more.  I realize that these are petty, First-World concerns, and yet they continue to nag. 

So, here we go again:

WHY DO:

- people start letters to the editor with the words, "I read with interest . . . ."?   

Well, of course, you did or you wouldn't be writing. 

- people refer to their parents as "mom" and "dad" (as opposed to "my mom" or "my dad"), when talking about them to someone not their sibling?  

Always throws me.  Are you inviting me to join your family?  As a sibling?  With full inheritance rights?

- people on TV shows wake in bed together and start kissing? 

 Don't they have morning mouth? Don't they have to pee?

- airlines charge for the aisle seats in the last few rows in coach?  

It's bad enough to be packed in like sardines, without having people hang over you while they wait to use the loo. The airlines should pay us to sit there.

- companies, such as Kaiser Permanente, release ads with the tagline, "brought to you by Kaiser Permanente, who believes . . . ."     

Seriously?  The bean counters don't really think I will believe Kaiser Permanente is a person, do they?  (Yeah, I know what the Supreme Court has opined, but sometimes it is just wrong.)

- radio news reporters sign off with, "In New York, I'm Jane Smith"?  

And who are you in Boston?

- nonfiction writers (especially writers of self-improvement books) tend to sprinkle exclamation points everywhere!!!!!!!?  

If you haven't made your point without an exclamation point, try again!!!  

- political candidates and causes send me multiple, alarm-laden emails every day?  

Do they not know that, given the volume, I will delete them all  (without reading) each morning? I do care about the causes and the candidates, but reading all of these emails would send me into a coma, alarms not withstanding.

- business types use terms such as "data points." skill set," and "price point"?  

"Data," "skills," and "price" served us well enough until the MBAs took over. 

- millennials say "no worries" instead of "you're welcome."  

Well, I wasn't worried . . .

- millennials say "perfect" ( pronounced "puurrr -fict," with a slight rise in voice on the last syllable) instead of "ok" or "thank you" when I am, say, answering questions on a form for them?  

Do I look like a kindergartener learning her letters?

BONUS QUESTION:

- Why do faucet sensors have so much trouble detecting my hands?  

Am I a ghost?

Stepping off my soapbox now, I remain, perplexedly yours.

Photo by Emily Morter on Unsplash

WHY DO THEY DO THAT???

After six decades on this earth, I find that Guy Noir is not the only one with persistent questions.  Here are some of mine:

Why do:

- men assume that they get all of the space in an airplane row of seats? 

OK.  OK.  Maybe women do this sometimes too, but in my experience it has always been men.*  I am not talking here about the dilemma posed by sharing a row with a large person. I am talking about the average-sized man who sits down in his seat and  immediately spreads his knees apart as far as they will go and plops his elbows on both arm rests.  Were these guys raised by wolves?  Oh.  Wait.  I have no reason to believe that wolves have such bad manners.

            *Of course, there was the time when I sat down next to a very young woman on a bus, and found to my dismay that it was not going to occur to her to uncross her stiletto-clad left foot from the top of her right knee, where it remained poised to attack my left knee for the entire trip. . . .

- store clerks refer to the inventory as if they own it?   

So, you walk up to a store clerk and ask, “Where are the frozen peas?” and the clerk responds, “My peas are on aisle three toward the back, or “I am out of frozen peas, but I have some nice fresh asparagus.”  Really?  Does s/he think that I will believe that s/he owns the store, but comes in to stock the shelves in order to stay in touch with the little people? 

-  store clerks ask for a phone number?

Really?  Any phone number?  It doesn’t have to be mine?

- store clerks ask for the “last four of your social”?

Not sure what this means, but it sounds personal. 

- radio stations announce that “meteorologist Joe/Jane Blow is calling for torrential rain/tornados/(fill in your weather horror of choice here)”?

I get that meteorologists have to predict the weather, however ugly, but why would anyone employ a meteorologist who calls for ugly weather?

- people leave their engines running while waiting for a bridge-lift to be over?

These events usually last at least ten minutes. This is not the Indianapolis 500, folks  – A fast take off is not imperative.

- robot voices on phone trees pretend to be real people?

Does company XYZ really think it is making this a more pleasant experience by having a recorded voice say, "I'm sorry.  I didn't get that.  Could you please repeat it?"?  If you want to make it a pleasant experience, how about HIRING SOME REAL PEOPLE TO ANSWER THE PHONES?, she asked sweetly.  

I feel better now.  I would love to hear your persistent questions.