write where i am

Summer intention:  Same as it was back in the day.  Have fun and hang out with friends.

Quite a change from the majority of summers since, when it was to write the great American novel or at least a publishable book of poetry. 

While those are very worthwhile goals, and I probably will continue to write this summer, I want to practice an underdeveloped side of my personality and interests, one that was arrested about the time I graduated high school. 

This will include letting go of expectations.

Wish me luck.

The following story relates with the article concerning stress carriers to which I previously posted a link. I think it illustrates how Cameron’s Crazy Makers can infect those around them, drawing others into their insanity.

When I first read this story, I really identified with the boater.  But as I re-read it, I realized that I have also been both swimmer and bowling ball.  None of their roles are very desirable to me now, and I have to practice quite often to keep from assuming them.

What about you?  As Rev. Pam would say, “Who are you in this story?”

(The following story is paraphrased/quoted from Robert Subby’s Lost in the Shuffle, direct quotes in italics.)

Attempting to swim the English Channel, an individual clings to a bowling ball.  Struggling, the person is able to keep afloat and plugs on without help. Other people are trying to make it across as well, but these people are using boats and oars and other helpful boating tools. One of the boaters sees the struggling swimmer, and guided by compassion they feel compelled to row over and offer their help.

This person says to the swimmer, “I noticed from a distance that you look to be in a bit of distress.”

The swimmer, sinking and swallowing water, says, “I’m fine. What makes you think I need any help?”

The boater is taken aback, but persists, as the bowling ball is clearly visible to anyone.  “No wonder you’re having trouble… Do you know you’ve got a bowling ball in your hand?”

The swimmer, irritable and aggravated, says, “Yeah, so what?  It’s my bowling ball.  It’s the only bowling ball I’ve ever owned…In fact, this bowling ball belonged to my mother’s mother’s mother’s …mother.  It’s been in our family for generations and I’m not going to be the one to drop the ball.”

The boater replies, “I was going to suggest that you let go of it, but under the circumstances, maybe you’d better not… Just hang on to the side of my boat …and I’ll row you to safety.”

However, the swimmer isn’t pacified. “You just can’t mind your own business, can you?  Well, maybe this will help you get the point.”

The swimmer drops the bowling ball into the boat, where it smashes through the bottom.  The boater is now soaked and trying to keep from drowning.  The swimmer says, “If you have to be here, the least you could do is help me carry this damn bowling ball.”

Must women be divided?  Do we really still need to point fingers and argue about what constitutes “real” work?  Apparently so:

http://katemeadows.wordpress.com/2012/04/19/the-full-time-tightrope/

I really appreciate Kate Meadows’s response.  In addition to the criticism received by mothers who do not have a second job outside of the home on top of the 24/7 position of parenthood, women who pursue an art while raising a family also receive a lot of static.  I’m glad women like Meadows speak up.  They help stoke the energy I need daily to nurture my family, myself, and my writing.

Rosen’s by now well-known comment that Romney “actually never worked a day in her life” set off a pinging fire inside me. But what got me more than that was her assertion that because she stays at home, Romney – and thereby all stay-at-home moms – is clueless about the deep economic issues that ripple through our country.

If anyone knows better than a mom how to put food on the family table each night, show me. If anyone is more familiar with the rise and fall of milk prices at the grocery store, show me. If anyone in the family is more conscious of the family budget, show me.  —Kate Meadows