The Blue Muze Blog

Culture Shock

Warped

Jerry went to do research for school assignments as a kid in this building. Is it as amazing inside as it is from the outside? I understand they are planning a new, new Parmly Library. Sixteen million dollars worth of new library. Although I can't imagine how this one could be improved upon for intrigue, character and antiquity, perhaps they are running out of space for actual books and people, an amazing and beautiful exterior aside. This old building reminds me of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft; would it not inspire imagination just climbing the steps up to the entrance, and passing through the doors leave one breathless with anticipation for the wonders to be revealed within?

The internet - so awesome. My youngest son explained to me what it would be like. Sure enough, it has grown, really exploded seemingly overnight, into a network of information, of opportunities to learn things almost instantly, with a touch of our fingertips on keyboards around the world. How much more could be learned in "real life" by listening intently while getting out of that so-called "comfort zone" we are always hearing about. When have I ever learned anything new by doing something my way or the easy way, or the way it has always been done, or the way I was taught?

Perhaps it is partly pride. Okay, maybe it's mostly pride. Not maybe. Probably. But if I have to choke on the bitter truth, that is as far as I am going with that thought for the moment. And then there is that big ol' stumbling block: fear. The books that could be written, that should be written, that HAVE been written are a good place to start receiving, sharing, giving. To start weaving ideas into my life from the musings and experiences of others. Why not take the opportunity to get a more solid grasp on something, anything. Yet, someone recommends a book. I hesitate, procrastinate. Duane told us about a professor in college who, as a parting gift, chose a book specifically for each of her students. For him, she chose A Confederacy of Dunces, by John Kennedy Toole, and he was completely delighted with the book, however unenlightened I was when I started reading it. Thanks to my kids, I now have some insight to help me see the humor behind the rather, to me anyway, crude subject matter, and even piqued an interest in exploring the wonderful vocabulary.

Mindy went to Chile, South America with a friend for three weeks during her senior year of high school. My (very) picky eater came home and told me about eating sea urchins. Right out of the sea, raw, alive, and whole in one great gulp. Last week, while visiting home for the first time in a year, she explored all the changes with eager interest. Then, at breakfast I watched her use a fork and fingers to search an egg on her plate, looking for something cooked enough to eat. Finally giving up, nose upturned in disgust, she removed it to the serving platter. No changes there. I can't help but wonder at her temporary Chilean courage. While semi-cooked eggs don't scare me, I highly doubt I would have been brave enough to try swallowing even one live sea urchin. Mysteriously a treat for Chilean kids, they eat them on the fishing boats when they go out fishing with their families from the island of Melinka. She told about being in class in Spain with people discussing our culture, especially from a political standpoint, and being nearly swept away by a different point of view, then standing up for the United States of America. What a rush. Out of the comfort zone, into the middle of conflict. Expanding the point of view of students in Spain, defending her country. So proud.

Another thing she brought home from Chile was a vivid memory of blue paint. Seems a certain shade of blue is used extensively, which inexplicably they dubbed "platypus blue". I am envisioning a rather bright, harsh tone of blue, perhaps like a deep tropical sea without the sparkle. More importantly, she brought a sense of people being happy, working hard, and of contented, extended families crammed together in small spaces with one gorgeous crystal chandelier or a lovely piano, the pride and joy of their home. Buying bottled water and finding out it was unsealed. Learning that "stuff" makes our lives more complicated than necessary. But the building code is in serious need of examination. All before graduation. Awesome.

My kids are going through stages where is seems they are in the midst of troubles, changes that don't seem to be for the better. Being the mom, the cheerleader, the rapt audience of one to surprising drama, my soapbox is my vision of their greatness, supporting with all my might their exceeding potential and excellence, their vision, their soaring intellect. I am the preacher and the subject of my sermon is their right to advance the causes they believe in. Yet when I'm the one who needs to change, it's like being the passenger with a teen driver who has a brand new learning permit; if only there was a brake on my side of the car, there would be deep impressions of it in the floorboard. So there is my give and take - with strong reservations. I really need to, have to, learn from my kids as the world changes around me with increasing speed. Be open to new ideas. It is vital for my healthy future.

Jerry likes me to talk to him. On Sunday evening he was driving and a couple of times, as I was passing the time playing a game on my cell phone, the steering wheel jerked. I wondered if he wanted me to drive. He said, "I will be fine if you talk to me!" The second time it happened was even scarier, and I decided that maybe talking was only part of what needed to happen. I drove the rest of the way. He would rather I talk to him than listen to an audio book. One thing that happens is that I know a little about a subject, so I start talking about it. He ALWAYS seems to ask the wrong questions. If he would just ask the right questions, I could answer them.

Knowing my subject better is the solution, of course. Sometimes I realize I don't want to talk about what he wants me to talk about. Or he doesn't want to hear what I have learned about. The conversation is kind of like introducing Gerber strained beets to a baby - nice and healthy it may be, but it just doesn't taste right. Too often I just don't have the details he is interested in hearing. Don't know. Nope, don't know the answer to that one, either. Again and again, my grasp on a subject is sketchy. It is frustrating to give the same answer again and again. Nope, didn't think of that. Besides my idea simply won't work and here's why.

There is a positive side to all of this, and perhaps it is one of the secrets to our upcoming thirty-third anniversary. What one of us doesn't think of, the other does. I often feel amazed at the solutions and ideas he presents, and I know he will usually proceed with caution even after he has thoroughly explored all the options, has in fact exhausted me with questions and plied my unwilling brain of minute details. Another reminder that one of the things I love about marriage is two heads thinking things through. My higher tolerance for risk could, I suppose, lead to ruin. At least in his opinion. ...Smile.

The saying goes, "We can be part of the problem or part of the solution." Meaning, in this case, willingness to expand my grasp on my subject so that our time together is spent sharing ideas, discussing points of view and brainstorming, rather than thinking people, and he in particular, should just trust my excellent judgement. After all, my sister did.

My dad loves to state his point of view. One of the things about him I find most intriguing is how he can make an opinion sound like a fact. I suppose our opinions are facts to us. However, if any one is willing to debate, a good presenter may find that Dad's opinion is subject to change with more information. Notwithstanding, that person had better be ready to make their point very clearly and concisely.

One of Dad's opinions that sound like a fact is one of his most definitely demonstrated sayings: Life isn't fair. The timeliness of his words often illustrates his point thoroughly. Still, I have spent most of my life to this day trying to prove him wrong. My kids will testify to many a dismal failure despite every cheerful, positive thought I've encouraged them and myself to think, and yet for all of that, who can define fair? Mom said to count my blessings. So on the one hand, if life isn't fair, and I focus on that thought, on the other hand I find blessings to count, innumerable, especially when I consider the people living in truly troubled areas of our world.

Trouble arises because I become disappointed when my endeavor to see positive thoughts to fruition doesn't develop as I hoped. Perhaps in our great universe someone outweighs me on the negative, or the plan is greater than I thought, and more depth is needed from this gravely shallow heart of mine. Will it matter in 100 years? It only matters now if I allow bitterness to overwhelm me. I would rather find a blessing in it. There is almost always a blessing, I think. however deeply one must dig. I would like big, obvious blessings, and much more immediate ones. There is that old 100 year plan popping up. Sometimes I really get tired of waiting. Then I think of someone like George Washington, or Abraham Lincoln. Great men, and they suffered much. Cold, hunger, war, opposition of lesser men, lack of honor, misunderstanding. And they gave of themselves and led our country into greatness. Their ideals inspire me. There are more men like them I hope to learn about. John Adams is on my reading list. Also Thomas Jefferson.

"There has never yet been a man in our history who led a life of ease whose name is worth remembering," said Theodore Roosevelt.

Rather than avoiding the deep uncertainly that causes me to avoid a discussion, I should be making mental notes of the concepts I need to study in greater depth, no? Life requires me to give more of myself, much more than I am comfortable with. And in these experiences, I must become my own cheerleader. Hence, many quotes.

I suspect the bigger problem with sharing my knowledge is actually being inadequately prepared for a discussion, unless, of course, I enter it willing to learn something. I know from training and seminars and great coaches that so many times we struggle with a mental block. What really stops me is how I view the situation, rather than the actual elements of the situation. Acknowledging that I may actually need to reconsider my point of view can be rather uncomfortable. Could it be my overwhelming self-confidence doesn't allow me to consider having less than all the answers? The first item of business, we are taught, is to acknowledge the problem with as much honesty as can be mustered. Since we are truly helpless when we think we are helpless, and unbearable when we are overly confident, starting with the truth is a great aid to great conversation. I have the choice of being stubbornly unwilling to change and especially to acknowledge my own fallibility, a wall of my own making, or alternatively to recognize the limit I have on my openness, and doing a little more research. Giving up pride, my fear of appearing foolish, has its own unexpected, surprising rewards, too. Finding out where my weakness lies means I have an opportunity to address it.

Interesting though, is the depth of understanding it takes in a subject to be really effective in holding your ground. And, the most exhilarating conversations occur when two people do not agree on everything. Nevertheless, let us not sink into inertia by too much discussion and too much caution.

Finally, does it really matter if I "look dumb"? My ego does think it matters, but it really doesn't matter that much, and sooner or later, I am going to look pretty dumb. Probably 100 years from now it won't matter, anyway. Every time I risk my pride, it is an opportunity to learn something wonderful, or maybe take a hit. Either way, I am fairly certain that no one expects me to be perfect, so there is no need to disappoint them. In fact, I think my ego needs to take a rest.

"Each problem has hidden in it an opportunity so powerful that it literally dwarfs the problem. The greatest success stories were created by people who recognized a problem and turned it into an opportunity."

-- Joseph Sugarman

A civilized society is one which tolerates eccentricity to the point of doubtful sanity.

Robert Frost

Weekends are a bit like rainbows; they look good from a distance but disappear when you get up close to them.

~John Shirley

I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh