I've always felt young, and now I fear I may be growing old.
I've always been looking forward and now I find I am worrying and picking through old memories, searching for the good old days.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
New year/old year
Today is the start of the New Year- 5773- for me as we begin Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, at sunset.
I will be spending the New Year with my new grandson (and, oh, yeah, my son and daughter-in-law, his parents). How sweet is that?
As a Jewish person in the U. S., I have lots of New Years to observe, to stop, to think, to take an opportunity to reconsider and choose to start anew.
To turn away from a path headed nowhere, or trod too many times. To turn to a new and healthier direction.
To start something new, or to start over in a new way.
Rosh Hashanah, the start of the new Jewish year, happens in the autumn, when many are starting a new school year. Meanwhile, here in the Northern Hemisphere, the leaves are falling and the summer is ending, autumn is coming on, and the days are becoming shorter. Winter is around the corner, the dying of the light.
A combination- a balance?- of new and old.
On January 1st, the secular New Year will be celebrated- during some of the darkest days of winter. While we turn the page on the new calendar, the days are indeed getting longer- but here in Michigan the light is only a whispered promise of spring as we experience some of the bitterest cold.
Sometime in winter- often in January, as it happens this year- it is Tu b'Shevat, the New Year for trees. Originally, this was a sort of fiscal holiday, establishing the age of trees for harvest and tithing purposes. Now, it is an opportunity to review our relationship with the natural world.
Even though Rosh HaShanah is the first of the year, it is not the first month of the year. (Doesn't make sense to you? Good! I wouldn't want to be the only one!). The first month of the Hebrew calendar is the month of Nissan. The holiday of Passover, of spring and new beginnings and new starts, happens during Nissan.
Of course, I often reflect on my birthday about where I have been and where I am heading- another new year!
Lots of moments in time to stop, think, adjust, change, commit, celebrate!
May the year ahead be filled with sweetness for you.
I will be spending the New Year with my new grandson (and, oh, yeah, my son and daughter-in-law, his parents). How sweet is that?
As a Jewish person in the U. S., I have lots of New Years to observe, to stop, to think, to take an opportunity to reconsider and choose to start anew.
To turn away from a path headed nowhere, or trod too many times. To turn to a new and healthier direction.
To start something new, or to start over in a new way.
Rosh Hashanah, the start of the new Jewish year, happens in the autumn, when many are starting a new school year. Meanwhile, here in the Northern Hemisphere, the leaves are falling and the summer is ending, autumn is coming on, and the days are becoming shorter. Winter is around the corner, the dying of the light.
A combination- a balance?- of new and old.
On January 1st, the secular New Year will be celebrated- during some of the darkest days of winter. While we turn the page on the new calendar, the days are indeed getting longer- but here in Michigan the light is only a whispered promise of spring as we experience some of the bitterest cold.
Sometime in winter- often in January, as it happens this year- it is Tu b'Shevat, the New Year for trees. Originally, this was a sort of fiscal holiday, establishing the age of trees for harvest and tithing purposes. Now, it is an opportunity to review our relationship with the natural world.
Even though Rosh HaShanah is the first of the year, it is not the first month of the year. (Doesn't make sense to you? Good! I wouldn't want to be the only one!). The first month of the Hebrew calendar is the month of Nissan. The holiday of Passover, of spring and new beginnings and new starts, happens during Nissan.
Of course, I often reflect on my birthday about where I have been and where I am heading- another new year!
Lots of moments in time to stop, think, adjust, change, commit, celebrate!
May the year ahead be filled with sweetness for you.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Cruel geography
My Dear Daughter has written about Anti-Social Media. It came at a time when I have been missing her, and my other children. It comes at a time when I am too aware of the distance between us.
Dear Daughter wrote that the easy "connections" of the various and sundry social media of the digital age do not bring us together, but can be keeping us apart, keeping us separate, keeping our relationships surface only.
This is one version of the response I wrote to her:
*******
When I first saw this posting a week ago I put it aside before responding because the truth you write is too raw and painful for me at times. The intimacy promised by facile social media is a false intimacy. It would be nice to think that geography is irrelevant in a high tech age, but geography is still cruelly relevant. We delude ourselves that we are "close" but we are not close. We are miles and miles apart.
No matter the timely tweet, the cryptic post on Facebook or the blatant blog rant, meaning is lost, connection fails. More can be read from the nuances of a sigh, the hesitation before the word, the glance held, the glance dropped.
And a virtual hug is virtually nothing at all.
There is so much more to be said, but I will wait to say it with wine or coffee shared, in the same place, at the same moment.
*****
That was the comment I left.
I mourn the distance between each of my children and myself; and I recognize with pain that the distance is not only the miles of cruel geography, but also the span between sorrow and comfort, between experience and sharing. Between surface and depth. Between knowing you and losing you.
Dear Daughter wrote that the easy "connections" of the various and sundry social media of the digital age do not bring us together, but can be keeping us apart, keeping us separate, keeping our relationships surface only.
This is one version of the response I wrote to her:
*******
When I first saw this posting a week ago I put it aside before responding because the truth you write is too raw and painful for me at times. The intimacy promised by facile social media is a false intimacy. It would be nice to think that geography is irrelevant in a high tech age, but geography is still cruelly relevant. We delude ourselves that we are "close" but we are not close. We are miles and miles apart.
No matter the timely tweet, the cryptic post on Facebook or the blatant blog rant, meaning is lost, connection fails. More can be read from the nuances of a sigh, the hesitation before the word, the glance held, the glance dropped.
And a virtual hug is virtually nothing at all.
There is so much more to be said, but I will wait to say it with wine or coffee shared, in the same place, at the same moment.
*****
That was the comment I left.
I mourn the distance between each of my children and myself; and I recognize with pain that the distance is not only the miles of cruel geography, but also the span between sorrow and comfort, between experience and sharing. Between surface and depth. Between knowing you and losing you.
attitude of gratitude
I have been ranting quite a bit lately because of the perceived slights from My U. While I still believe in my perceptions I am reminding myself that I fully believe in taking a positive outlook. So, some focus on the many reasons I have for gratitude seems to be in order
I am grateful to My U for accepting me into the PhD program. I am grateful for the wonderful folks I met that were a part of my cohort.
I am grateful for the opportunity to learn and to teach. I have grown from the classes I took and the classes I taught.
I am grateful for the support of family and friends - the love, the encouragement, and yes, even the nagging that helped me get through the entire process and to come out with a "terminal degree" without it being the death of me.
More gratitude yet to come.
I am grateful to My U for accepting me into the PhD program. I am grateful for the wonderful folks I met that were a part of my cohort.
I am grateful for the opportunity to learn and to teach. I have grown from the classes I took and the classes I taught.
I am grateful for the support of family and friends - the love, the encouragement, and yes, even the nagging that helped me get through the entire process and to come out with a "terminal degree" without it being the death of me.
More gratitude yet to come.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Dear Diary: Shut up
Dear Diary: Shut up. I'm here NOW, aren't I?
I knew it was going to be a shitty day today when I went to bed last night. I just didn't know how shitty.
When I went to bed last night, I knew that I had to drink all the laxative solution this afternoon as colon cleansing for my colonoscopy tomorrow. I knew I would be shitting all afternoon.
I didn't know that I would wake up to shit.
What woke me up was the sharp, acrid smell of shit in my bedroom, where Jasper, AKA GoLayDown, AKA GetOutOfTheGarbage, had shit all over the floor.
He didn't whine, he didn't scratch, he just shit all over the floor.
Not diarrhea, just regular, smelly shit.
So, I got up, I cleaned up the shit, I washed the floor, I sprayed odor neutralizer, I lit candles.
I still have the consumption of laxatives to look forward to this afternoon.
Then, since I was up already, I went to catch up on email and the news of the day.
More shit. I am BEYOND shaking my head at what looks, sounds, smells like a War on Women. Akin saying if it's "legitimate rape" that a woman's body will prevent pregnancy. Romney and Ryan distancing themselves from Akin- and then the GOP endorsing a party platform that seeks to ban abortion, with no clause excluding rape or incest.
Really?
And reading that a judge in Texas says there will be civil war if Obama is re-elected?
It makes me tired- especially when I read an article predicting Romney will win the election.
So then I follow up on reading my email from My University. There is a student from my Spring 2012 online class that tried to drop the class, thought she had dropped the class, then due to an error of the My U Pipeline (the online interface for all things dealing with the U), the class wasn't dropped. She is trying to get my help in changing her grade from F (since she did zero work, and was on the class list, I had to give that grade) to something else which will allow her to re-take the class.
Well, this is frustrating because since I've left/been let go from My U (something I have had happen more than once), I dread re-contacting. It's frustrating because as a lowly adjunct, this grade change is not a change that I can complete on my own. It's frustrating because it turns out I had to interact with the new chair, who doesn't know me, to get the grade change approved.
It's also frustrating because in researching how to address the new chair (I honestly don't feel like I can address him by his first name, as we have never met), I noted a posting inviting those interested in part-time/adjunct positions to submit apps to be considered for the "hiring pool".
Really? No one would bother to contact me in person to invite me to submit?
Feh!
As luck, or serendipity would have it, I had posted on my Facebook page a meme that reads: Don't Stay Where You Are Tolerated. Go Where You Are Celebrated!
At least for now, I'm not going to submit to the pool for part-time/adjunct. Instead, I will substitute teach for pin money at the local school, babysit my grandson on Mondays...
and write.
and apply to better gigs, looking to go where I will be celebrated.
This afternoon, I will get rid of my own literal shit.
In the days ahead, the metaphoric shit may take longer.
I knew it was going to be a shitty day today when I went to bed last night. I just didn't know how shitty.
When I went to bed last night, I knew that I had to drink all the laxative solution this afternoon as colon cleansing for my colonoscopy tomorrow. I knew I would be shitting all afternoon.
I didn't know that I would wake up to shit.
What woke me up was the sharp, acrid smell of shit in my bedroom, where Jasper, AKA GoLayDown, AKA GetOutOfTheGarbage, had shit all over the floor.
He didn't whine, he didn't scratch, he just shit all over the floor.
Not diarrhea, just regular, smelly shit.
So, I got up, I cleaned up the shit, I washed the floor, I sprayed odor neutralizer, I lit candles.
I still have the consumption of laxatives to look forward to this afternoon.
Then, since I was up already, I went to catch up on email and the news of the day.
More shit. I am BEYOND shaking my head at what looks, sounds, smells like a War on Women. Akin saying if it's "legitimate rape" that a woman's body will prevent pregnancy. Romney and Ryan distancing themselves from Akin- and then the GOP endorsing a party platform that seeks to ban abortion, with no clause excluding rape or incest.
Really?
And reading that a judge in Texas says there will be civil war if Obama is re-elected?
It makes me tired- especially when I read an article predicting Romney will win the election.
So then I follow up on reading my email from My University. There is a student from my Spring 2012 online class that tried to drop the class, thought she had dropped the class, then due to an error of the My U Pipeline (the online interface for all things dealing with the U), the class wasn't dropped. She is trying to get my help in changing her grade from F (since she did zero work, and was on the class list, I had to give that grade) to something else which will allow her to re-take the class.
Well, this is frustrating because since I've left/been let go from My U (something I have had happen more than once), I dread re-contacting. It's frustrating because as a lowly adjunct, this grade change is not a change that I can complete on my own. It's frustrating because it turns out I had to interact with the new chair, who doesn't know me, to get the grade change approved.
It's also frustrating because in researching how to address the new chair (I honestly don't feel like I can address him by his first name, as we have never met), I noted a posting inviting those interested in part-time/adjunct positions to submit apps to be considered for the "hiring pool".
Really? No one would bother to contact me in person to invite me to submit?
Feh!
As luck, or serendipity would have it, I had posted on my Facebook page a meme that reads: Don't Stay Where You Are Tolerated. Go Where You Are Celebrated!
At least for now, I'm not going to submit to the pool for part-time/adjunct. Instead, I will substitute teach for pin money at the local school, babysit my grandson on Mondays...
and write.
and apply to better gigs, looking to go where I will be celebrated.
This afternoon, I will get rid of my own literal shit.
In the days ahead, the metaphoric shit may take longer.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Oh, sh*t
It seems there's a theme.
Today I had to wait for the truck to pump out our septic.
On the counter awaiting consumption next week are the Rx for evacuation of my own system pre-colonoscopy.
Oh, joy.
Today I had to wait for the truck to pump out our septic.
On the counter awaiting consumption next week are the Rx for evacuation of my own system pre-colonoscopy.
Oh, joy.
Friday, August 3, 2012
write anything again and again
Dear Digital Diary- How are you?
Some new plans: Remember when I used to demand one half- hour per day of each of my kids in each of the following: math, music, Hebrew, housework?
Well, I've decided that I'm going to start with some self-demands along those lines. Every day one half hour housework and one half hour writing. As a minimum. As maintenance.
We will see how it goes.
In addition to this blog, I'll be writing song lyrics as a gift for my youngest, some of which are inspired by my first born. And I will start writing the story of my life. It's interesting to me at least, and then I can lift and fictionalize whatever bits ;-)
Part of my housework today is laundry - that's the part that will add to my fitness, I hope. Then I am also working on a gift quilt.
I find a hurt in my heart for each of my four children today; and tremendous pride in each of them as well.
Some new plans: Remember when I used to demand one half- hour per day of each of my kids in each of the following: math, music, Hebrew, housework?
Well, I've decided that I'm going to start with some self-demands along those lines. Every day one half hour housework and one half hour writing. As a minimum. As maintenance.
We will see how it goes.
In addition to this blog, I'll be writing song lyrics as a gift for my youngest, some of which are inspired by my first born. And I will start writing the story of my life. It's interesting to me at least, and then I can lift and fictionalize whatever bits ;-)
Part of my housework today is laundry - that's the part that will add to my fitness, I hope. Then I am also working on a gift quilt.
I find a hurt in my heart for each of my four children today; and tremendous pride in each of them as well.
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