this is why this man is my hero

">edited: Anyone know who said these quotes? They're all from the same person...

Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

You can't convince a believer of anything; for their belief is not based on evidence, it's based on a deep seated need to believe

We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology.

The well-meaning contention that all ideas have equal merit seems to me little different from the disastrous contention that no ideas have any merit.

I maintain there is much more wonder in science than in pseudoscience. And in addition, to whatever measure this term has any meaning, science has the additional virtue, and it is not an inconsiderable one, of being true.

Science is not only compatible with spirituality; it is a profound source of spirituality.

In science it often happens that scientists say, 'You know that's a really good argument; my position is mistaken,' and then they would actually change their minds and you never hear that old view from them again. They really do it. It doesn't happen as often as it should, because scientists are human and change is sometimes painful. But it happens every day. I cannot recall the last time someting like that happened in politics or religion.

Thoughts at the Winter Solstice

Today is it. For those of us in the northern hemisphere, we see less of the sun than any other day of the year. The sun has paused in its long trek toward my southern horizon and beginning tomorrow, it will begin to creep northward again. This is my favorite solstice. While I do need the change in seasons, I feel very content here in the well of winter. I love the darkness and the cold. I love the trees that have dropped their leaves and a sky that looks overcast and gray. But in reality, I think that what I really love is the contrast that I can create in the winter. I love building a fire in our fireplace and cozying up on the couch with my family when it's miserable outside. I love knitting warm hats and mittens for my children. I love making soups and hot chocolate to warm us and I love the way that the aromas of these warm foods, the pumpkin spice and roasted turkey and potatoes, hang over my house like a blanket. I know that this part of myself that loves the winter is a result of living the affluent life that I do. I am afforded the opportunity to build up an illusion of control over the natural elements. I can keep myself and my family warm and safe in our cocoon while it's freezing outside. This must be why I love winter like I do. I love feeling the cold bite of freezing rain on my nose only because I know that in a few minutes, after I open up the door that leads to the warm golden glow of my home, I will be warm. It's an illusion, I know, this control that I think I have. But for now, it's something that makes me happy.



We went to a winter solstice party last night which was very nice. They had a labyrinth set up in the back yard, made of tiny candles that outlined the path, and had someone softly playing vibraphone bells off in the distance (this family is a fairly well-know celtic rock band so they have a very nice assortment of instruments and talent. It was beautiful.) I walked the labyrinth by myself, and other than starting out the wrong direction and finding myself needing to jump around from path the path to find the correct one to lead to the middle (I wasn't the only one - I kept running across one of my past YRUU kids that was doing the same thing) it was very peaceful. I think the idea of a labyrinth is to clear your mind by the repetition of steps. Once I found the right path, I didn't need to think about where to walk next - I simply quietly and slowly strolled around within the candles with the soft bells dancing around my ears. I was able to let go of thinking about what presents I still needed to buy or what to make for the Christmas Eve party we'll be going to, or what to pack for our trip to Texas. My friends had a yule log set in the middle with a basket of branches beside it. I attached a branch to the log, looked up at the night sky, deeply breathed in the cold air and the smell of the campfire that was burning off in the distance, and put my spirit in a good place to start the new year.

Inside the house was full of food and wine and cider and friends who were sharing details of their lives and laughing and enjoying the company. I wonder why the pagan traditions have become so misunderstood and feared? There is a huge array of faiths and spirituality under the umbrella of "paganism," some of which I relate to, and some of which I absolutely don't. In my personal experience (which I freely admit is limited), I have seen those who claim paganism as their spiritual home to be deeply in love with the natural earth and committed to taking care of this, our home, I've seen their recognition of the importance of humans caring for each other, and I've seen a curiosity about and acceptance of other religions. I also feel a kinship with humans from thousands of years ago who noticed the track of the sun and, in the pagan tradition, celebrated the winter solstice as marking the return of the sun and the goodness that it brought to their lives (i.e. food). While I don't agree with every nuance of their lives or spiritual traditions (as I would say for all friends from all religious persuasions) I feel a marked gentleness and openness from my pagan friends that is often absent in some people from more modern and mainstream religions. My wish for the new year, marked by the clock of the sun which has been turning much longer than the human species has been around, is that this gentleness and openness and true compassion for our fellow humans will one day become more common than the judgmental and sanctimonious attitudes that I too often run across in everyday life.

Happy Solstice to you all.

movies and games

We went and saw The Golden Compass today. What a fascinating movie! And that Lyra ROCKS. She's one of the best girl characters I've seen in a long time.

I can't say that I'm surprised by the present controversy surrounding this film because of the anti-religious bent. Honestly, it doesn't come out all THAT obviously in this particular movie. I hear that most of the concern is based on the worry that children will be enticed to read more of this series, which from what I understand, is supposed to become much more blatant in its atheist themes. Worse, I have heard that it is very anti-god (which is different from being atheist. It really is.) You know, despite being an atheist myself, like Pullman, I can't stand one group of people attacking another purely from difference in spiritual beliefs (or race or sexual preference or whathaveyou), so I was all set to come out and surprise people with my support of the complaints. I, however, don't find that I can do that. I did not get the impression that this movie was attacking christian spirituality or god, but was making (strong) statements on organized religion, and more accurately - mind-controlling powerful organized religion. And that, I just have no problems with. I just don't see the concern at this point. Perhaps, though, I should read more of his books before making any strong statements. In any case, it was a nice afternoon and I enjoyed the movie. (We took five kids with us and got two huge tubs of popcorn and had a great time sprawled out on the back row, which is the best kept secret of movie theaters - LEG. ROOM.)

Now I just need to share a funny conversation we had in the van on the way home. The characters are me and DH (two adults sitting in the front two seats of the van, trying desperately to politely tolerate the ridiculous banter and loud laughter of the children behind us.) Q and E, my two darlings, and Q's friend Neal (we left the other two children we brought behind at the movie theater because they misbehaved.)
Anyway, Q and Neal were busy putting the empty popcorn bucket (lined with butter of course) on their HEADS (bleah. Showers tonight). They were giggling wildly and being nutty kids. I heard the following conversation: "Oh OWWWW! Stop laying there! That hurts!!! Oh now I really have to wee wee!!!!!!!" (laughter, laughter, laughter)
E: "Neal, do you have a wee???"
I choked and immediately said "EEEEEEEE!!!!! That is SO inappropriate! What are you thinking????" (and various other indignant disciplinary phrases). OMG. I couldn't believe my sweet 9 year old was being so raunchy!!!!

----silence-----

E: Mom, I was asking about if he had the game Wi.

Which I totally believe. It took her a while to figure out what I was ranting about. Poor girl.

I am mommy, but it is my pups who roar

I am so sorry. I am about to write a blog post about my daughter again. But I'll then try to seque into a thoughtful post about religion and diversity and such, if that makes it any better. (nah, I won't really seque into that. I'm just going to brag about my wonderful daughter.in this post. Again.)

I do not believe in god. I do not, however, teach my children that they should not believe in god. I teach them that it is a personal decision, and I took them to UU (up until about 5 months ago) to introduce them to the concept of religion (including christianity) and god(s) and to the concept that spirituality is ultimately a personal decision. I'm all about imparting our values to our kids, but this is one area of values that I firmly believe that they have GOT to find their own way. I'll tell them what I believe but I will never tell them that I know anything for sure. I've encouraged them to think about things broadly and find their own way, and that I will respect whatever it is that they decide, and I expect that their own spirituality will change many, many times before they are comfortable. (And I will try SO HARD to accept their way as valid and reasonable, no matter how painful that may be. Family Ties, anyone?)

So don't hate me or judge me because my daughter currently doesn't believe in god.

My daughter is about as different from me (when I was her age) as you can get. She is one of the most self-assured people I've ever known. She's delicate (only because she's only eight), but is also so confident in herself that it puts me to shame.

She's in 3rd grade (that's very young). Her teacher stepped out of their classroom for a few minutes today. One of the kids mentioned that he was drawing god in his crayon picture because "god is everywhere". Let me mention here that I have many, MANY times tried to explain to E that religious beliefs are diverse and quite personal and that they are usually best left unspoken. (i.e., PLEASE don't go around telling everyone that you are a heathen, my dear heart, since we live on the edge of the bible belt and I really don't want you to be a walking target). So of course E pipes up that "*I* don't think that's true, Christopher, because *I* don't even believe in god!!!!". And that led, ultimately, to quite the heated little debate amongst this quiet little 3rd grade class in their few moments of no adult supervision. E tells me that she was told by many that she was going to go to hell, to which she feistily replied that since she didn't believe in hell either, she wasn't worried about that. Her best friend in the classroom is Jewish (very possibly the ONLY Jewish child in this elementary school at this point) and is very much as self-assured as E, and she stated that she didn't believe that Jesus was the son of god and that E was Unitarian and she and E proclaimed together that they were still able to be best friends despite believing different things.

At which point, apparently, all hell broke loose and manna from heaven was falling and fire was bursting forth from bushes and words were flung about.

Then the teacher returned to the classroom and announced they were going to vote for their representative to the student council.

And guess who won. My sweet little heathen, the unbeliever and the godless E.

Can I say that I am so proud I want to weep? A lot? (not about winning the silly little Student Council Rep position, though I have to admit I'm happy about that). But I am proud that there is this tiny little human here that somehow understands that there is an enormous range of spiritual understandings out there, and understands that her own beliefs are just that (her own beliefs) and she was able to stand strong in the face of a group that believed she was so wrong that she was going to hell (whatever that really means to 8 year olds), and she didn't back down...and she came from me!!!!!!

I love this child. And I created her. Applaud me.

No, sorry. Applaud her.

...in which the ramblings of a mommy watching her babies turn into preteens turns into a ideological religious essay

Note: I have been writing and editing this post for 3 days now. I'm losing my mind and have absolutely no focus. Send help!

Perspective is the absolutely fascinating ingredient of understanding that creates very different interpretations from one common set of facts. For instance, having returned from my middle schooler's Back to School night, I can tell you that the way preteens relate a particular story is not necessarily the way teachers relate them. Both parties can be reporting the facts quite accurately. It's the emphasis, the subtleties, the innuendos that transform an entire storyline. For example, Q's interpretation of his mild upset at losing his science binder was interpreted as a complete meltdown by his teacher. In both cases, there were the facts of 1) a lost binder and 2) some tears. But the two interpretations as related to me, were worlds apart.

What am I talking about, really?
Dunno really. Just some observations.

One parent in the gym Tuesday night was going on and on and on (she was furious) about a particular day when her kids were 2 hours late coming home on the bus. Apparently, there were a huge number of drivers out sick that day so they had to double up the runs and didn't do a particularly good job of organizing it. She was angry enough to write an email to the school superintendent, and was furious that he forwarded it on to the transportation department rather than answer it himself. (??? I thought that was a perfectly appropriate response, in light of my newfound love of delegating, says me the PTA prez). I sat there quietly for a while (I was eavesdropping) and thought about how I would have shrugged it off as a nasty end to my kids' days and gone to buy them a milkshake. I just can't get all worked up over random uncontrollables like that. On the other hand, I went ballistic when my son lost two checks I sent in to school via him, and made him pay for his gym clothes out of his own money as a result. When I met his gym teacher on Back to School night, she looked at me in poorly masked horror when I explained why he paid for his gym clothes with (in part) 7 or 8 dollars worth of change. All parties knew all the facts in those stories. We just interpreted them differently and reacted to them differently.

One of Q's assignments in science class involves writing out very precise instructions on how to tie a shoe. He was in hysterics describing to me how his teacher would read each student's instructions and follow them very very literally and would end up with her hands tangled up in the laces. We rarely, if ever, depend purely on facts to relate a process, or to relate a story. It's very difficult to do. We depend heavily on interpretation. And that's where it all gets tricky, because unlike facts, which are concrete, interpretation is a fluid thing.

This is why I claim I have no patience for religious extremists (which run the gammut from fundamentalist christians and orthodox jews to whacky pagans and angry atheists.) Anyone who is so sure they know the "whole truth" that they have decided to condemn the rest of the world's interpretation as wrong or evil fits my definition of extremist. This is a fundamental weakness in human thought - the need to believe that our interpretations are as solid as fact. We are so uncomfortable with admitting that "We don't know," and with leaving loose ends in our understanding of the universe, that we convert our interpretations into fact to prove to ourselves we are right and make ourselves feel more comfortable. We end up hemming ourselves in with our own perceptions of "truth". In our quest to claim understanding, we refuse to acknowledge that our beliefs are not based on fact, but on only our interpretation of fact. Why is it that humans tend to gravitate toward close-mindedness naturally, and it takes work to open yourself back up again?

I don't think we should abandon our interpretations. That's what gives our lives the meaning we crave. But the close-minded approach of converting them into absolute truth shuts out the validity of all other interpretations completely and is what sparks misunderstanding, s tops communication, and ultimately leads to conflict, war, and abuse.

We would surely all do well to listen more.
We would do well to step back from our goal of being right and move on to a goal of trying to understand.
We would do well to learn to compromise.

stripping myself bare

I went back and read some of my older posts this weekend from months and months ago and dammit, but I used to write about some interesting stuff. I really want to be there again.

I've written about global warming recently, and about my life as a scientist, and I always write about my kids. I have not, however, written about my spiritual life for a while. And that is mainly because it is currently fraught with feelings of bitterness and anger and feeling quite sorry for myself and feeling very, very disappointed with what was my chosen spiritual home. I feel comfortable as an individual, but I feel so lonely because what I thought was the right place for me ended up not being so, despite my really, really wanting it to be.

Until about 7 years ago, I had not realized there was a chance in hell for my ever feeling a connection to a spiritual home ever again, not since I realized (when I was in my mid 20s) that I could not feel honest with myself about believing in a supernatural being (i.e. "GOD"). While I felt supremely comfortable with myself in this belief, I felt very out of place in the larger societal sphere (i.e., my home within humanity). (And yes, that is important to me.) I felt uncomfortable, that is, until I found the Unitarian Universalist church. And I was very happy there for a while. In that place, you are theoretically accepted as having valid spiritual beliefs whether those beliefs encompass Jesus Christ dying on the cross to save the world, or whether you believe in the Buddhist philosophy or whether the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster serves your spiritual needs. In that place (UU), we are all theoretically accepted as valid spiritual beings and there is an environment of tolerance that I craved not only for myself but most especially for my children. I enrolled my kids there in the religious education program in order for them to learn about love and tolerance and differences and the universe. I dove into the culture there, wanting to give more than I took.

And guess what? I definitely got what I wanted. I gave more than I took. Big time.

I terminated my membership there last month. And as a result I feel very sad. But I can't see that there was another way.

For my last 1.5 years there, I sacrificed my own spiritual feeding in order to teach the high school youth there at UU. I loved those HS kids. But it took a lot out of my own life. A lot. I spent countless Saturday nights frantically trying to piece together a lesson for the next morning because I did not like the curriculum we were using, and I did so at the expense of spending time with my own two kids. Forget spontaneous camping trips to the mountains. Forget Sunday mornings sleeping until we woke up without an alarm. I gave those days away. I also spent countless Sunday mornings teaching the the YRUU's in place of attending services and being spiritually fed myself. And when I finished my term of teaching? A little more than 3 months ago? I heard nary a word, nary a thank you, nary a "we'll miss you." N.O.T.H.I.N.G. The silence from this "loving" congregation was deafening. I felt ... absolutely.nothing ... from the other members there. Nothing.

After three months of a self-imposed hiatus from church this summer, the only correspondence I actually received were two emails, both asking me to commit (again) to volunteering more of my time with the youth. (My answer was "no," to the emails but in my reality was "hell no.") No one asked me how I was or where I had been or more importantly, how my children have been. There.Was.Nothing. No one was curious as to why I was no longer attending. The only question I heard was whether I would commit to continue to "serve."

And that? That was the end of it for me. While UU is the closest "church" I've found to meshing with my personal understanding of life and the universe, I decided that it was ultimately more about creating a beautiful image of itself and was less about being interested in the real people that are looking for a community to belong to.

I did hear from the UU ministers after I terminated my financial pledge. But you know what? I (notably) still have NOT heard a thank you from anyone for the time I gave. ANY ONE. for the freakin' YEARS that I spent giving in that congregation. I am speechless. And I am mad. And I realize that the caring that is espoused there is less toward the people and more toward the philosophy. And I am so not about that. There's more, too, that has upset me but I'm not going to get into that here.

I love so many of the people that go to that church. But I don't know that this is something I can get over. I really miss the sense of belonging to a spiritual community. But I realize that in the sense that is important to me, I never belonged anyway.

science

The subject of this post is the result of three unrelated comments that I have either heard recently, or which have been made directly to me recently.

Two of them came from my mom's email list but I didn't feel that was the right forum for me to go all philosophical and wordy so I didn't address the comments there. In the first instance, one of the moms was involved in a discussion of mammograms and how a radiologist didn't like the look of something in her mother's x-rays despite it having all the signs and symptoms of being a cyst that is benign 99% of the time. It turned out the radiologist was correct to be concerned. Anyway, she closed her story with with

"I'll take intuition over science any day."

Another mom on my list (being a quizzical sort) referred to the Carl Sagan signature that is at the end of all my emails that reads: "

It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring." She noted my sig and simply asked:
"Why?"

And the last instance comes about because of my penchant for browsing through blogs of some very conservative people and trying to understand their positions on global warming. I do this for several reasons. Many of these people are quite intelligent and have some good questions. In my constant quest to remain open-minded, rather than dismiss their arguments, I enjoy thinking about them and trying to decide if they make me question my own beliefs. Unfortunately, most of these folks are also clearly not open to a rational discussion of the subject and would not be interested in hearing my viewpoint as a scientist working in the field (mostly because what I have learned does not mesh with what they'd like to hear). And because many of them can be downright rude, I'm not about to jump into the fire. (I'm not good at confrontation, believe it or not.) But I am intensely interested in the motivation and reasons for their beliefs. In any case, the comments on more than one blog I have been reading demand proof that climate change is being caused by humans. One of the recurring battle cries is essentially:

"No one has shown me the proof!"

Which all have led me to wax philosophical about what I think science is.

First, I can tell you what science is not. Science is certainly not statistics. Statistics are facts. Statistics are concrete. Science is much more malleable than that. Science is a constantly changing search for explanation. Science often uses statistics to guide thinking and to help search for causal relationships, but it is in no way limited to statistics. So when my first friend compared intuition to science, I think what she really meant was intuition versus statistics. Because intuition is, in fact, integral to science. And that is what has drawn me in from the beginning. I love the art of science. It is the perfect blend of logic and intuition. Science is not rigid. It seeks to shatter past-held beliefs rather than remain beholden to them. It has no bounds. It wants to expand and grow. It is not stagnant.

And that (kind of) leads to my next comment. For my fellow bloggers who are looking for "proof" of global warming - eh. No. That's not going to happen because that is not science. Strictly speaking, you can only "prove" that a theory is incorrect. It is only the absence of disproof which is compelling evidence that a theory is a good explanation of what we observe (and that does not equal "proof"). Compelling (usually empirical) evidence is as good as you're going to get in science. Science is not mathematics. It is not rigid. We can assign subjective degrees of reliability to various scientific theories, but that is the best we can do. In the case of global warming, there is a high degree of reliability placed on human emissions of carbon increasing the average surface temperature. We know this by examining empirical evidence such as signatures of carbon isoptopic ratios in tree rings and ice cores that strongly suggest the dramatic rise in CO2 over the last 150 years or so is due to burning fossil fuels. (Click here if you're interested in discussion of this). No real scientist will be able to "prove" that the increase in CO2 and associated global warming is due to humans. But ~99% of scientists believe that it is so.

As an aside, I find it a little interesting how this description of science reflects the debate over the existence of God. I do not believe you can offer up any absolute "proof" of God, either. Yet, while I am comfortable with the fact that scientific theory cannot be supported by "proof", I am uncomfortable with the fact that God cannot be supported by proof. I reconcile this by the argument of reasonable and reliable evidence. Scientific theories can be supported by evidence that I find compelling. God cannot be supported by evidence that I find compelling. (shrug). In the big scheme of things we have a level of "unknowable" that we all eventually reach. We can ascribe that to "God", or we can ascribe it to something as simply unknowable. Whether there is a material difference in what we assign as definitions is a matter of personal decision.

And then there is my friend who asked "Why" to one of my favorite Sagan quotes.

It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.

It's a good question. Is delusion or pretension such a bad thing? Is it harmful or immoral? There are certainly cases where it is hurtful, I think, but it's not a universal truth that it is. However, I can only answer for myself. I believe delusion and pretension is very, very limiting. I believe the search for truth - the search for explanation (which is my definition of science) is what blows apart the boundaries that we set for ourselves. It's only when we are willing to open ourselves up to the infinite possibilities of "truth" that we don't yet understand that we can experience a fullness to life. Granted, that's not what all of us want. This isn't a "right" or "wrong" explanation. It's just what works for me.

a sad week

April 19, 1993 Waco, TX
April 19, 1995 Oklahoma City, OK
April 20, 1999 Columbine, CO
April 16, 2007 Va Tech, VA

I've written and rewritten so many essays about my thoughts on the Va Tech tragedy that I've lost count. I finally deleted them all. It's not that I've stopped thinking about it, believe me. My kids' busdriver has a son who had a class in that building, on that floor, at that time and because he was tired that day, he skipped class. He came home last week and she took off to spend time with him, leaving my kids in the hands of a string of unknown substitutes. (You'd better believe I was all for that, despite my kids' complaints). I have a neighbor whose daughter's dormroom was 20 feet away from the first shooting. I've been talking to my neighbor, checking up on her daughter, and on her. I sent my kids to school wearing maroon and orange. It's in my mind.

But there is really nothing I can say that hasn't already been said (so many times). I have no new insights to add. I have no idea how to explain how something so horrible can happen, no wisdom to impart on how to prevent this in the future. We've all heard the idiots ranting about how this is the fault of immigration, how the lack of prayer in schools caused this, or how it's the fault of Korean movies. We all (I hope) have revisted our opinions on gun control and treatment of the mentally ill and wondered if maybe, just maybe there's another way - are our original opinions really the right ones? Is there some nook or cranny in our thinking that's been overlooked? Have we really been thorough in our own personal analysis? And if you're like me, you come away still confused because ultimately, differences in how we handle gun control or treatment of the mentally ill doesn't seem like it would have changed much.

In my opinion, this horrible, awful tragedy happened because we are humans. It happened because despite what we like to think and despite all of our attempts, life is ultimately uncontrollable and is completely unfair. We haven't failed ourselves as a species. We are still, on the whole, "good" (which is a very subjective term, but still). Perhaps you think I am stubborn or naive for believing so. But this is something I must hold onto. We, as humans, are not all "good" individually. But as a whole, we are an amazingly thoughtful and loving species. We don't always act in the most thoughtful way, collectively (GLOBAL WARMING) but we're a decent lot.

It sure as hell doesn't seem like it sometimes, but remember that this killer was one among billions. No one's talking on CNN about how my son's 4th grade class last year, during their mile run challenge, gathered together and ran along with one of the girls who, being overweight and out of shape, was in tears and desperately behind. They cheered her on until she FINISHED the damned thing. You won't read in the newspapers about how many people give of their spare time to fold and staple brochures for a local PTA, or how couples with houses that need to be cleaned and bills that need to be paid spend a weekend building a house for Habitat for Humanity instead. You won't hear about how countless neighbors watch pets and carry in the mail when folks go on vacation, or how teachers stay late after school to just talk...just talk... to a child that is having a difficult time.

I don't mean to distract from the prayers, good vibes, and good thoughts that are flowing to the families of the victims of last weeks' tragedy. I don't mean to minimize what happened.

I guess I'm just saying that this is one of those things we have to learn to have the wisdom to accept as a consequence of being human. It doesn't mean we should stop striving to make things better or to stop finding ways to prevent tragedies. But rather than beating ourselves up for with SHOULDOFS and COULDOFS, we sometimes have to realize that we are not in control. Whether you believe that we are not in control because god has plans that we are not capable of understanding, or whether you believe that we are just another beautiful, unique, marvelous species living in the mystery of the universe living under the edict that things are just as they are just because they are ... the ultimate truth seems to be that we aren't really much in control. Horrible things happen. We react, we adjust, we change. And still, things happen. But the thing we CAN do is to persist. Just because.

tired.

J wrote to ask me if everything was ok since I've not blogged for a week.
(Thanks, J!)
Yes, everything is fine. DH was up frolicking in South Dakota again last week at the same time that both kids started baseball season with the requisite need for a chauffeur pulling from only one parent. I doubt that needs any more elaboration, right? (time sink+time sink+time sink = not much time to blog much less finish the baby blanket for baby S who was born nearly a year ago. You know?)

I'm good. Mostly. More than mostly.

But with respect to the "less than mostly" portion of my life that is not so good, I had a bitch session with good friend J.B. on Saturday night, where I lit into my UUs over a glass of wine in her loverly home, and I feel the need to continue in that vein here. I don't know exactly what it is (I know generally), but I am in need of much distance from my previously beloved UU congregation at this point in my life. I think the word is "burnout." I want to make it clear - the teens I'm working with are fabulous. They are inconsistent, unreliable, and unsure, and everything I expect teens to be, but in a good way. That's not what's alienating me. We meet on Sunday mornings and even when I feel like the curriculum guidance is ridiculous, I'm able to pull off some interesting discussion with them, mainly because they are interesting thinkers. They will never tell me something because they think it's what I want to hear. They are brutally honest. That I will not be there next year to watch so many of them in their senior years, making decisions that will start them off of the next phase of life, this is killing me.

It's the rest of the UU organization that's irritating me. The guidance from above that should be there but is not, the tendency to place the teens and other youth in the afterthought position, the negativity from many of those in "higher" (and often paid) positions, the generally selfish attitude of so many in the congregation (i.e., "what do *I* get out of this" rather than "what can I give?")?? Bleah. Besides, my children are increasingly negative about what is offered to them there. My daughter refuses to attend if she has to go to "spirit play", which is the current version of Sunday school for her age group which she views as ridiculously childish, and I have to agree. My son only goes to see his friends. I'm thinking the return on my investment there has become WAY beyond unreasonable. Enough of feeling the judgement. Enough of the expectations placed on myself. Next year, I'm going to use my Sundays to drive up to the mountains with my children and husband with fabulous picnic lunches, and we'll explore our spirituality in a positive, happy way as a family. We're going to feel free and unemcumbered and open to the world. Unscheduled.

Disillusioned. That's what I am.

I wonder...is is possible to have a spiritual community that is not based on fear (fear of hell, for example), where the responsibility really is equitably distributed? What is the imeptus to encourage giving, when that "fear," that alliance to a given set of moral rules, is not there? In a community like UU, where we thrive on "we're all ok as we are", at what point do the givers tell the takers to put up or shut up?

You think I'm a bit irritable? You think?

My cherished daughter convinced me to buy her a new hamster today during a spur of the moment visit to the petstore. We got her, the hamster (Ruby), a wonderful new cage with the best lining and food and colorful tubes and shelves to play on. Daughter E was walking on air and charmed every person in the pet store with her estactic smile. I felt like I was the best mommy on earth. She was beaming more than I'd ever seen. She was in heaven.
Then we got home and while we were putting the cage together, Ruby bit her.
Hard.
Lots of blood.
That hamster doesn't know how lucky it is that I didn't fling it across the universe. Daugher E pleaded with me that she (the hamster) was scared and didn't know any better. With tears in her eyes, she asked me to give her time to learn how to behave. I washed the rather large bit e wound and applied antibiotic ointment and dried the tears from E's eyes and imagined all the horrible deaths I could for that stinky little rodent. But E has faith. She thinks if we give the little beast time to relax, time to get used to things, she will be OK and will learn to love E. She has enduring faith that if she stays positive, that positive things will ensue.

I think, maybe, in times like these when I am ready to throw in the towel, that I might need to step back and take a break but not give it up with finality. Maybe I need to remember that faith is something that all of us use to pull us through. All of us. Faith needn't be limited to a "god" or supernatural being. Faith is necessary for anything that doesn't have a proof. I have faith in my marriage, in science, in nature.

There's no reason not to have faith in a community of reasonable, well-meaning UUs. I think there really are good intentions there, I just think that my version of good intentions and the rest of the communities' versions are not quite aligned at this point.

Distance is good, is necessary.

But overall, it's all good. It really is. And I have a whole 3 weeks with DH before he goes back to South Dakota for another week. (!) (Military moms/wives, single moms reading this, disregard my complaints.) But #()&@!.

Sigh.

For wonderful seester L, here is a youtube for you. :-)
(It is so easy to put these in, I'm embarrassed to tell you the "secret". Look for the "embed" part when you find a youtube you video you like. Copy it and paste it in.)

expose' on the lint of my naval

We've been working on developing our personal "spiritual credos" on Sunday mornings with my YRUU teens this winter. We're talking about the "big questions" (Is there a god? Why are we here/what is my purpose?) and identifying the values we hold most important. It's a lot of naval contemplation, and I'm getting a little tired of it, but the kids seem to like it. They enjoy playing with ideas and searching a little bit. They're pretty sure what they believe, but I see that they're also willing to rethink. They're alright.

As for my own credo, I have reached a place where I think it's less important to spend time contemplating the "big issues" such as finding the purpose for my life, than to just simply "be." I've convinced myself that these big questions are not only mostly unknowable to my little mind, but are probably not even close to the "right" questions to be asking. I think about the gradient between our minds and that of an earthworm and realize there is no reason to believe that intelligence peaks with us. We are as earthworms to something out there. We're not even on the playing field to some portion of life out there. Awesome to contemplate (and to them, I'm not even comtemplating!)

Further, many people have a tough time realizing that it is entirely possible to be spiritual without being religious, much less that it is entirely possible to be spiritual without having any belief in anything supernatural. There's a component out there - a wall, if you will, that we all reach, when we come to the point of no longer understanding. Many people ascribe the unknowable at that point to "god", or to something "supernatural". What we don't understand is that which is explained by god, or by something else "super"natural. I ascribe the unknowable at that point simply to the natural universe - to things that occur naturally which we just can't comprehend with our brains. My spirituality lives in the warmth of realizing that I am a *part* of the universe. That it is teeming with life and wonder and mystery (to the human mind) and my molecules are part of that. I feel the same reverence and "worship" that those who believe in a supernatural do. I do not see that it is all that different, actually. None of us are capable of understanding and we all have found explanations for the unknowable that best suit our minds. Your supernatural is my unknowable is her god is his physics equation.

This is why I love UU, despite all its faults (elitist sometimes, lots of talk, not so much action sometimes, etc., etc.). Despite all that, it is the only place I've found where people don't assume I'm in denial or am close-minded or too cerebral or non-spiritual simply because I don't belive in a supernatural life. My brand of spirituality is accepted as just as geniune and meaningful as any of those that ascribe to an afterlife or supernatural existence.

And that we even have to have this discussion, I think, shows how uncomfortable most of us are. The fact that someone believes differently than I do is not a comment on my own beliefs. I don't think less of A for believing in god than I do of B who thinks just like I do. We're all writing our own stories and developing our personal credos on our spirituality. We don't have to agree. And we can still be valid.

We're just all so damned unsure of ourselves. I think the hallmark of insecurity is bigotry. When you resort to damning someone else in order to validate yourself, then you expose your own uncertainties.

So there you are. we find ourselves all on this bouncing ball of a planet and we can spend our time contemplating our navals or looking out for the well being of each other or simply enjoying the warmth of the sun when we lie in it. So many ways to live, and just one life (that I know of). What an awesome place this is.

holes and lists with a mix of new age

I've started digging this hole and it's getting deeper and deeper. I'm playing with the idea of running for PTA president next year. I can't decide if I'm delusional or just stupidly naive. I am not a stay-at-home soccer mom politics-playing sort of gal, you know? I never in a million years thought I would utter the words "PTA president" and "thinking about running for..." in the same breath. But I'm not seeing a lot of other options. Part of me wants the challenge, while the other part is wondering how far I'll kick myself if I do end up as president. I'll keep you posted. That hole is looking very deep.

I spent the morning with the YRUUs starting our new curriculum "Words to Live By: Creating a Personal Credo." It's a program to explore your personal goals and values and spirituality so that you are able to articulate it through a "credo". I asked the kids if they were ready to contemplate their belly-buttons. I got confused and embarrassed stares because none of them had ever heard that expression before. ????? Yowza. Don't know how I'll like the curriculum. I actually played new age music this morning while I led them on a guided meditation. I tried not to laugh - I really did. We'll make adjustments and it'll be good. They are all so busy they don't get a lot of time to "think." (Who does?) So I think they'll enjoy it, as long as I don't do too many of those guided meditations or take the new age-ness feeling too seriously.

Speaking of which, I'm tired of thinking deep thoughts tonight but still feel like writing, so I'll create a list. Woo Hoo! I love lists. I really do. Comes from that need to be in control. When things are listed, you control them. Isn't that obvious?

So here are some things that I love that have happened to me recently (in no meaningful order):

1. When I get home from work and open the front door to the smell of a crock pot roast that has been simmering all day long. It's especially nice when I've forgotten I ever put it in the crock pot to begin with.

2. Lounging on the couch with my son. Every time, I wonder if it's the last time he'll let me cuddle him. He's getting bigger every day but is still such a little boy right now.

3. The feel of freshly washed flannel sheets and the smell of spice candles. Mmmm bedtime.

4. Unexpected (impromptu) dinner invitations.

5. The little half-meow my cat makes when he's too sleepy to meow properly but still loves me enough to want to tell me hello when I go plop down on the bed beside him.

6. A particular place along a hiking trail in the park where you are up on a ridge and can see the Taskinas creek meandering through the marsh well off into the distance. You can see the York River way off on the horizon through the very large tree trunks. It's all so much better too, when two lovely children are hiking with you.

7. Singing silly songs to my friends over the phone. This is especially fun when you've all had a glass or two of wine and a nice dinner.

rehashing seasonal issues

Q came bouncing into the kitchen a few days ago to grab a drink. "Hey mom, you know Hannukah and Kawanzaa? They aren't real holidays like Christmas is."

My heart skipped a beat and I took in a shallow breath to hold. "Ahh, ok. What makes you say that?"

He went on to tell me that Hannukah is a pretty minor Jewish holiday ("I mean, it's not like Rosh Hashanna or anything") and Kawanzaa is really based on a harvest festival. He explained that christmas was a major Christian holiday but Hannukah was really just a little celebration for Jewish people.

I could breathe again. And I was very grateful to my friend Paige, who is Jewish and is very active in our school, who was invited to talk to the students about Hannukah. She'd laid it out there for them very factually. E could even describe to me the battle that took place between the Macabee Jews and the Greeks (Syrians?) that lead to the miracle of the oil which is celebrated at Hannukah. Thank goodness my kids don't think that Hannukah is the Jewish Christmas.

The presumption by a lot of us in the U.S. that religious freedom means equal emphasis is just wrong, I think. It's not going to happen. After an extended discussion with the moms on my email list, many of which are Jews, I do not believe there IS an acceptable solution to the conundrum as to how to correctly recognize a minority religion by any given society. Some Jews were upset by the bombardment of "Merry Christmas" greetings that they receive upon every trip out into public this time of year. They are tired of Christmas music and Santa talk. And I get that. I do. It is presumptuous to assume that every person out there at the mall is celebrating Christmas. Many other well-intentioned folks get it, too. So we've ended up with displays of the menorah aside the christmas tree. Stores hang banners that proclaim "Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah!" "Seasons Greetings and Happy Holidays is used in an attempt to acknowledge there is more out there than Christmas.

But in reality, this kind of atmosphere feels so contrived. So condescending. "Yes, yes, here is our recognition to your holiday too." And it's not even a major Jewish holiday. It just happens to fall near the winter solstice, as does Christmas. "Where is the recognition for Rosh Hashanna? For Yom Kippur?" some of my Jewish friends are asking.

Well. Look. Jews make up about 1% of the U.S. population. It's quite unreasonable to expect broad public acknowledgement of each holiday of each minority religion. Minority religions are not limited to Jews. We've got Islam, Hinduism, Pagan religions, and heaven knows how many others.

The other option is to erase the widespread celebration of Christmas here and essentially spiritually santize our public selves. Whew. This kind of talk is why "PC-ness" is so despised. Not only is that not even close to practical, but I don't WANT it to happen. Look, if Jewish-owned businesses want to celebrate Rosh Hashanna and Yom Kippur, that's fantastic! I'll join in. I'll be happy to receive whatever religious greeting is handed to me at whatever time of year, particularly if it is one given with goodwill and peace. No way will there ever be the emphasis on these holidays as on christmas or easter, but that's just because of statistics. When more than 85% of a population is Christian, and a large number of the remaining population celebrates Christmas as a cultural holiday (which is where I fit in), it's going to stand way out. There's no fighting the numbers.

What we can strive for is an environment where all religions feel comfortable in celebrating their particular holidays. Where Christians can wish fellow shoppers "Merry Christmas" without worrying about whether they will offend the recipient. Where the recipient can smile warmly and respond "Thank you! Happy Hannukah!" or "Happy Kawanzaa!" with true goodwill and without a hint of irritation. Where businesses are flexible enough to allow days off for Jewish employees during Passover, or for Muslim employees during Ramadan, or Pagans wishing to celebrate the solstice or equinox holidays. I don't want a world sanitized of religion. I don't wish for Christians to feel they must change their greetings to "Happy Holidays" to keep from offending others. On the other hand, those who choose to offer that more general greeting also shouldn't be made to feel ostracized.
(The link is to my post from christmastime last year. Funny funny. We funny people. We rehash the same old arguments from year to year.)

I like the Alfred Tennyson quote I ended my post with last year:

"I am part of all that I have met"

Celebrating diversity means we should feel free to celebrate as we choose, and work to pass that freedom to others as well. No suppression, even for the majority.

Merry christmas!

religion test

My results for which religion best fits me from SelectSmart.

1. Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2. Secular Humanism (94%)
3. Theravada Buddhism (87%)
4. Liberal Quakers (82%)
5. Neo-Pagan (76%)
6. Mainline - Liberal Christian Protestants (65%)
7. Taoism (64%)
8. Non-theist (64%)
9. Mahayana Buddhism (63%)
10. New Age (63%)

Heh.

a new religion

I ran across this link tonight and went from puzzlement to fits of giggles to slapping the computer table and throwing my head back in laughter.

I urge you to take a look at this:
The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

I dunno. It was just exactly what I needed to read. I am a convert. All hail the FSM. This gives me a whole new universe to contemplate.

BTW, in case anyone is interested, Roxy seems to have finally understood the housebreaking thing. She'll pee outside while simulataneously wagging her tail and looking at me (or E) for us to shower her with praise. Now we just have to convince her that this event is worth doing right EVERY TIME.