Arleen Spenceley

Thumbs.

2012-02-12T08:44:00.000-08:00

If you are wondering whether what my thumb is doing is a fluke in the photo with the essay of mine that appeared in today's paper, wonder no more.

"I bet people will think my hand is deformed," I said to my friend Ster about this yesterday.

Nah, she thought. Couldn't be. But upon further exploration, she sent the following:

"Now that you mention it, I am kind of concerned about your thumbs." -Ster

Best. Response. EVER.

Facebook is going public; not me.

2012-02-11T06:45:00.000-08:00

Click here to read my latest column, online now and in print in the Perspective section of tomorrow's Tampa Bay Times.

It's about my belief that even as part of a culture that loves social media and smartphones, another way of life is possible.

Books in 2012: Rome Sweet Home

2012-02-10T22:29:00.000-08:00

Until I was 10, I thought everybody was either Catholic (like my mom's side of the family) or Jewish (like my dad's). My horizons widened when, in fifth grade, my parents pulled me out of public school and put me in the private, non-denominational Protestant school where I studied through my senior year of high school.

Every time a teacher discovered my Catholicism, what followed was one of three things: 1.) acceptance of me as a fellow Christian, 2.) fascination with and/or fear of the mystery that is my church or 3.) an unending aggressive attempt to persuade me to become Protestant. And the third response, to the chagrin of the teachers who tried it, ultimately achieved the exact opposite of its intended purpose.

At school, somebody would protest something Catholic and at home, I'd study up. I'd read from the Bible and from books in my mom's collection. I'd listen to cassette tapes of talks about the Church given by people like a professor named Scott Hahn. And the more I studied and read and listened, the more grateful I was for getting to grow up Catholic. So when recently, I stumbled upon the book Rome Sweet Home: Our Journey to Catholicism by Scott Hahn and his wife Kimberly, I got warm and fuzzy feelings as well as the urge to read it. As of tonight, it is the fourth book I've read start to finish in 2012.

I am not as into apologetics now as I was when I was a Catholic in a Protestant school (though I do explain, defend and question when necessary). But the book brought back memories of the years in which I was a little Catholic apologist and brought up points about why the Catholic Church teaches what it does that I hadn't thought of in years. And their story -- how the Hahns met and how they loved and the twists and turns their lives took later -- is pretty riveting. For most of his life, Scott was the kind of Protestant who so disliked the Catholic church he'd call it the whore of Babylon. He was a Presbyterian pastor, a Calvinist and on a mission to persuade all the Catholics he met to become Protestant. Kimberly, the daughter of a Presbyterian pastor, wasn't as anti-Catholic as her husband. But she never would have dated a Catholic, let alone married a Catholic. Which is why she was horrified when her husband became one. And she surprised everyone, when a few years later, she followed suit. Scroll down for some interesting points I dog-eared and/or underlined:

On studying what the Catholic Church teaches about contraception:

"Did our use of birth control reflect how God saw children or how the world saw children? ... Perhaps it was more of an American attitude than a godly one to think of our fertility as something for us to control as we deemed best." -Kimberly, page 36

On sola fide:

"We gradually became convinced that Martin Luther let his theological convictions contradict the very Scripture that he supposedly chose to obey rather than the Catholic Church. He declared that a person is not justified by faith working in love, but rather he is justified by faith alone. He even went so far as to add the word 'alone' after the word 'justified' in his German translation of Romans 3:28 and called Saint James 'an epistle of straw' because James 2:24 specifically states '...for we are not justified by faith alone.'" -Kimberly, page 41.

On sola scriptura:

"In my church history class, one of my better students ... said, 'Professor Hahn, you've shown us that sola fide isn't scriptural---how the battle cry of the Reformation is off-base when it comes to interpreting Paul. As you know, the other battle cry of the Reformation was sola scriptura: the Bible alone is our authority, rather than the Pope, Church councils or tradition. Professor, where does the Bible teach that 'Scripture alone' is our sole authority?'
I looked at him and broke into a cold sweat.
I had never heard that question before. In seminary, I had a reputation for being a sort of socratic gadfly, always asking the toughest questions, but this one had never occurred to me.
I said what any professor caught unprepared would say, 'What a dumb question!' As soon as the words left my mouth, I stopped dead in my tracks, because I'd sworn that, as a teacher, I would never say those words.
But the student was not intimidated---he knew it wasn't a dumb question. He looked me right in the eyes and said, 'Just give me a dumb answer.'" Scott, pages 51-52 (Hahn stumped several of his Protestant preacher and professor friends with the same question. None were able to answer it.)

On a day Scott spent with Dr. John Gerstner, a "Harvard-trained, Calvinist theologian with strong anti-Catholic convictions" -- a meeting the Hahns hoped would convince Scott to stay Protestant:

"'Dr. Gerstner, I think the primary issue is what the Scripture teaches about the Word of God, for nowhere does it reduce God's Word down to Scripture alone. Instead, the Bible tells us in many places that God's authoritative Word is to be found in the Church, her tradition (2 Th. 2:15, 3:6) as well as her preaching and teaching (1 Pet. 1:25, 2 Pet. 1:20-21, Mt. 18:17). That's why I think the Bible supports the Catholic principle of sola verbum Dei, the Word of God alone, rather than the Protestant slogan, sola scriptura, Scripture alone.'
Dr. Gerstner responded by asserting---over and over again---that Catholic tradition, the popes and ecumenical councils all taught contrary to scripture.
'Contrary to whose interpretation of Scripture?' I asked. 'Besides, church historians all agree that we got the New Testament from the Council of Hippo in 393 and the Council of Carthage in 397, both of which sent off their judgments to Rome for the Pope's approval. From 30 to 393 is a long time to be without a New Testament, isn't it? Besides, there were many other books that people back then thought might be inspired, such as the Epistle of Barnabus, the Shepherd of Hermas and the Acts of Paul. There were also several New Testament books, such Second Peter, Jude and Revelation, that some thought should be excluded. So whose decision was trustworthy and final, if the Church doesn't teach with infallible authority?'
Dr. Gerstner calmly replied, 'Popes, bishops and councils can and do make mistakes. Scott, how is it that you can think God renders Peter [the first pope] infallible?'
I paused for a moment. 'Well, Dr. Gerstner, Protestants and Catholics agree that God most certainly rendered Peter infallible on at least a couple of occasions, when he wrote First and Second Peter, for instance. So if God could render him infallible when teaching authoritatively in print, why couldn't he prevent him from errors when teaching authoritatively in person? ... how can we be sure about the 27 books of the New Testament themselves being the infallible word of God, since fallible Church councils and Popes are the ones who made up the list?'
I will never forget his response.
'Scott, that simply means that all we can have is a fallible collection of infallible documents.'
I asked, 'Is that really the best that historic Protestant Christianity can do?'
'Yes, Scott, all we can do is make probable judgments from historical evidence. We have no infallible authority but Scripture. ... Like I said, Scott, all we have is a fallible collection of infallible documents.'
Once again, I felt very unsatisfied with his answers, though I knew he was representing the Protestant position faithfully. I sat there pondering what he had said about this, the ultimate issue of authority, and the logical inconsistency of the Protestant position.
All I said in response was, 'Then it occurs to me, Dr. Gerstner, that when it comes right down to it, it must be the Bible and the Church---both or neither.'" -pages 74-76

On yielding to God:

"My dad could sense the sadness in my voice.
He asked, 'Kimberly, do you pray the prayer I pray every day? Do you say, Lord, I'll go wherever you want me to go, do whatever you want me to do, say whatever you want me to say and give away whatever you want me to give away?'
'No, dad, I don't pray that prayer these days.' He had no idea of the agony I was enduring over Scott's being Catholic.
He said, genuinely shocked, 'You don't?!'
'Dad, I'm afraid to. I'm afraid if I prayed that prayer, that could mean joining the Roman Catholic Church. And I will never become a Roman Catholic!'
'Kimberly, I don't believe it will mean you will become a Roman Catholic. What it means is that Jesus Christ is either Lord of your entire life, or he isn't Lord at all. You don't tell God where you will and won't go. What you tell him is you're yielded to him.'" -page 115-116.

For more information about the book, click here. For all the posts about books I read in 2012, click here.

Pain.

2012-02-09T10:58:00.000-08:00

"Because we are offered so many things that are immediately satisfying (albeit in a superficial way), it is hard to remain spiritually hungry. We give answers too quickly, take away pain too easily, and too commonly stimulate ourselves with nonsense. In terms of soul work, we dare not get rid of pain before we have learned what it has to teach us. Much that we call entertainment, vacations, or recreation are merely diversionary tactics, and they do not 're-create' us at all. The word vacation is from the same root as vacuum, and means to 'empty out,' not to fill up. One wonders how many people actually have such vacations!

We must be taught HOW to stay with the pain of life, without answers, without conclusions, and some days without meaning. That is the path, the perilous dark path of true prayer. It is how contemplative prayer differs from the mere recitation of prayers (which can actually be another diversionary tactic instead of any kind of self-emptying)." -Richard Rohr

Always be working.

2012-02-07T20:18:00.000-08:00

As I kid, I had two primary chores (among many miscellaneous others):

folding laundry and emptying/loading the dishwasher.

Most days, I had two primary goals:

to not fold laundry and to not empty or load the dishwasher.

With three words at a time, I'd put off my chores:

"In a minute!"
"One second, please!"
"I'm busy now!"

My dad often had three of his own words for me:

"Always be working."

Oh how I disagreed. How I knew the work would never end and that to acquiesce to a suggestion like "always be working" meant... I always would be working. How I did not imagine that in 2012, at 26, as a writer and a grad student, I'd discover that finally, I agree with my dad.

I know now that he didn't mean "never take a break." He meant "do what you need to do first and do what you want to do later."

Because if you do what you want to do first, you'll run out of time to do what you have to do. Then you'll have to rush and it'll be reckless and you'l be stressed.

Because if you do what you want to do first, you might not enjoy it as much. You'll be preoccupied by knowing there's stuff you've got to do later (especially if it's stuff you don't want to do).

Because it feels really good when at the end of the day -- as a result of doing what I have to do first -- I have time left to work out, read for leisure and write on my blog.

This is not to say it isn't still a challenge.

Most afternoons, when I get home from work, I say, "In a minute!" to myself when I want to watch back to back episodes of the Waltons instead of making flashcards.

Gratefully, most afternoons, I shut off the TV and think of the following:

"Always be working."

A reflex.

2012-02-07T08:23:00.000-08:00

Allow me to reenact a segment of a phone call to my desk at work:

Me: "Hi! How are you?"
Caller: "Fine. How are you?"
Me: "I'm good. How are you?"

Awk-ward.

Plus any indication of a sincere interest in her state of being is thwarted when it becomes clear that "how are you" has become a reflex. In the moment, it's equal parts embarrassing and hilarious. In retrospect, it's a little scary. What else do we say (or do) so much that it loses meaning (or we lose awareness of it)?

The bee.

2012-02-05T11:43:00.001-08:00

In the heat of Florida's version of February, I leaned over my aging car's engine to check the oil (Don't be fooled -- it is one of only two things I do to cars. The other is pump gas.). Afterward, I walked up the driveway toward the open garage. This is when I first encountered the bee.

Please note that since childhood, I've been averted to things that creep, crawl and fly, and more so if the things that creep, crawl and fly are covered in fuzz. The black and yellow bee flew past me, and into the garage.

Which is when I noticed the fuzz that covered it. Already, I didn't like the bee, though he or she was tiny and in no way apparently interested in me. So I stood on the line between the driveway and the garage and watched. The bee, I learned, intended to land on every thing in the garage at least once.

"Frick," I said. But I tried to be patient. I paced.

He or she spent a couple seconds on the treadmill. A couple more on the bike. A couple on the fridge. A couple on the bench. Then the bee flew toward the clothes line. This was a problem for me, in part because the laundry area of the garage is way back (it's a big garage) and it's way hard to coax a bee into flying from there to where I stood. This was also a problem, however, because of the dream I had a couple nights ago, in which -- in my garage -- I discovered a bee inside the dress I was wearing. In the dream, I naturally spent the entire ordeal standing completely still while thinking really hard about whether a way exists to get a bee out of your dress without ripping the dress off your body.

But back to the bee. I was able to brush off thoughts of the bee dream. Surely, the dream was not a premonition and certainly, I would not leave my driveway post until I saw the bee leave the garage, which, therefore, would prevent the bee from making a home out of any of the clothes drying on the line. And, in fact, the bee then flew from the laundry area to continue carrying out its M.O.

A couple seconds on a stack of books. A couple more on a Rubbermaid bin. A couple on the recyclables, which -- if you haven't seen my garage -- are very close to the line between it and the driveway.

I got brave and walked past the bee, into the garage. I leaned toward the bee.

"Get. Out."

He or she didn't leave.

I said it louder.

"Get. Out! Get out of my garage!"

Still didn't leave.

Bees, I thought. They never listen! I got frustrated.

"FRIIIIICK." I said. While the bee dilly-dallied, I wandered to the laundry area. The tables had turned.

Come on, bee, I thought. This is my garage. I work out here. I do laundry here. I cannot have you here when I do these things. I probably stomped my feet. I may have shaken a fist.

"GET. OUT."

The bee flew the line between the driveway and the garage. I watched until I no longer saw the bee.

Which is when I saw what I hadn't once seen throughout the entire encounter with the bee:

My neighbor. I'm pretty sure she saw everything...

except for the bee.

Books in 2012: I'll Quit Tomorrow

2012-02-05T10:01:00.000-08:00

Through reading glasses* under a porch light in the backyard**, I spent a lot of last night reading I'll Quit Tomorrow: A Practical Guide to Alcoholism Treatment. I finished the book late this morning. Assigned reading for my substance abuse counseling class, the book is designed for substance abuse counselors, originally published in 1980 and written by Vernon E. Johnson, "founder and president emeritus of the Johnson Institute in Minneapolis," a treatment facility for alcoholics and their families.

I didn't expect to enjoy the book, because I judged it by its cover (no offense to its designer, should by way of internet miracle, he or she stumble upon this post). But now, I am really glad that my professor assigned it. What the future holds regarding the population of people with whom I'll work as a therapist has yet to be revealed, but should I wind up working with alcoholics or their families, some of what I got out of this book -- the third book I've read in 2012 -- will help me do it. And some of the excerpts I'll share below might resonate with anybody who has or hasn't been affected by alcoholism.

"The obvious question at this point is, 'Why don't these people see what is happening to them and quit drinking?' ... However, as one might expect, it is the wrong question. ... If you drop 'and quit drinking' from this inquiry, then you get to the real question: 'Why don't they see what is happening to them?' The answer is, they can't. ... Their defense systems continue to grow, so that they can survive in the face of their problems. The greater the pain, the higher and more rigid the defenses become; and this whole process is unconscious. Alcoholics do not know what is happening inside of themselves. Finally, they actually become victims of their own defense mechanisms. ... Not only are they unaware of their highly developed defense systems, they are also unaware of the powerful feelings ... buried behind them, sealed off from conscious knowledge, but explosively active. Because of this, judgment is progressively impaired--and impaired judgment, by definition, does not know it is impaired." -pages 27-28

"Now another powerful system of defense, equally unconscious, swings into action, namely, projection. Projection [in the realm of alcoholism, anyway] is the process of unloading self-hatred onto others. Again, the alcoholic does not know what is actually happening. The more hateful alcoholics unconsciously see themselves to be, the more they will come to see themselves as surrounded by hateful people. 'They are always trying to run my life,' or 'They are messing things up and making it harder for me!' ... In any case, this load of self-hatred must be dumped in order for alcoholics to survive." -page 31

Regarding what the wife of an alcoholic husband might say:

"... she reaches the point at which she actually says, 'I couldn't care less what happens to him.' Whereas, of course, all sane persons do care when the very structure of their established lives is being seriously threatened. If it were true that she did not care, it would be a mark of illness, not health. What she must learn is how not to be careless, but how to care and still cope." -page 95

And this is true regardless of whether you are or know an alcoholic:

"To put it exactly, the goal is to help the patient learn to discern accurately what his own behavior does to the other person emotionally. It is essential to know one's own feelings at a given moment, but in a life in relationship it is necessary to sense with equal accuracy the feelings of the other person. More particularly, it is important to recognize how one's own behavior influences someone else's emotional response. ... It is obvious, of course, that without personal insight empathy is impossible. One must be in touch with one's own feelings in order to have any real appreciation or understanding of another's." -pages 96-97

*It's true. I have reading glasses.

**Also true. We can do that in February in Florida. :)

Contraception.

2012-02-04T17:21:00.000-08:00

One word describes a recent set of posts about contraception on a blog I frequent called Bad Catholic, written by a guy named Marc Barnes:

Brilliant.

Barnes, who I think might be a genius, is a college kid at Franciscan University of Steubenville and a clearly Catholic Christian whose humor (even if often sarcastic and occasionally irreverent in inexplicably appropriate ways) gets me every time. His recent two posts about contraception explain why the Catholic Church is opposed to it and expose the reality that until relatively recently, so was every Protestant church. Both posts are so very worth the read.

From part 1:

"The natural end of sex is both unity and procreation. Love and life. Shocking, but true. If this is denied, and it is claimed that sex is solely about making babies, then you’re a jerk in the vein of Henry VII, and a Puritan besides. If, on the other hand, it is claimed that sex is solely about pleasure, one must contend with the shocking fact of what — precisely — leaves a man and enters a woman.

To argue otherwise is to look at a farmer casting seeds upon fertile ground and claim that he is casting the seed for the pure joy of seed-casting. This is not to say there is no joy, even a wild joy, to be found in planting a field. It is simply to note that it would be an insane man who would plant his field by the logic that throwing seeds is fun, and then become shocked and annoyed when his field bore grain in due season. Every part of the action of sex speaks to the creation of new life."

From part 2:

"Not one, single Protestant denomination before the 1930′s held that the use of artificial contraception was anything but sinful. May I ask, what on earth has changed, besides the fact that we now live in a culture that really, really wants birth control?"

Before you click off my site and on to Barnes's posts, you should know that because the Catholic Church is opposed to contraception does not mean the church expects couples to have sex so willy-nilly that they wind up like the Duggars. The church does teach that if a couple is sexually active, it should a) be married and b) be open to children (Click here and refer to the third question the priest asks an about-to-be-married couple right before the vows at a Catholic wedding.). But the church is not opposed to family planning. It is not opposed to your own deciding when you will and won't have kids. It is opposed to your own deciding when you will and won't be fertile (as well as to rendering a womb unsafe for and/or discarding fertilized eggs [which are a.k.a. super tiny babies]). Sex, according to the Church, is for babies and for bonding, until God says otherwise.

So much more I'd like to say about sex and contraception. In due time. But in the meantime, if you're wondering how a couple can decide when to and not to have kids without deciding when to and not to be fertile, click on the third and fourth links below for a couple old posts about natural family planning. But first, go read Bad Catholic:

Click here to read Why Contraception Is a Bad Idea #1 — Natural Law in full on Bad Catholic.

Click here to read Why Contraception is a Bad Idea #2 — Scripture Prohibits It in full on Bad Catholic.

For more about natural family planning, click here and here.

Social Media: The Beginning and the End.

2012-02-03T17:05:00.000-08:00

Happy anniversary to me!

Today, I celebrated my second anniversary as a person who isn't on Facebook. It was magical -- dancing, flowers, chocolate covered smartphones. You name it.

All right, actually -- I woke up, went to work, had a bagel. But when I thought of it, I read THIS, the first Facebook story of mine to be published. I wrote it in 2005, a) before I was good at writing and b) because I -- adorably -- thought this new "server" called "thefacebook" (Yes, kids, it was called that.) was fascinating. Little did I know "fascinated" would morph over time into "passionately against" and play a giant role in my life and career. Anyway, once again -- seven years later -- my apologies to Bobby Lewis (That'll only make sense, friends, after you read what I wrote for the Oracle.).

But back to my day -- I quietly reflected on what I really can't believe: it has been two years.

Two years since, when I tried to quit, Facebook said this:

I wonder if they DO miss me.

Sneaky, sneaky -- but, "Sorry, Facebook," I said. "Olivia, Manny, Olivia, Kim and Laurel will have to suck it up." I pressed on toward deactivation.

Obvs, "I spend too much time using Facebook." So I selected it. Which I figured would finish the process. Only, I was wrong.

"I know me better than you do, FB. It'll never work." -Me.

Needless to say, I had to know what other ~~ploys to coerce a person into not quitting~~ helpful hints Facebook planned to offer. So, I tried a couple other selections:

and

Silly Facebook.

Unconvinced, I continued toward deactivation. One step remained:

What you can't see under the security check is something like
"I've been trash talking social media for years. It's time to
practice what I preach."

I just had to type "opposition uncled," and it would be finished. I would have no Facebook account.

And so...

Please don't email adawg85@hotmail.com. I don't remember the password.

I did it.

I really did it.

And I really don't miss Facebook.

Social Media: Man Without a Facebook

2012-02-02T05:23:00.000-08:00

Best. Trailer. Ever. I've posted it before, but it gets me every time.

Guy 1: "Just send him a message on Facebook!"

Guy 2: "BY GOD, WE'RE FRIENDS IN REAL LIFE."

Social Media: What he said!

2012-02-01T12:02:00.000-08:00

Watch this:

What he said.

Social Media: A Happy Anniversary.

2012-02-01T12:01:00.000-08:00

A line lies between the world of regular people and one where lots of regular people fear to tread. Two years ago this Friday, I crossed it. Some friends cheered me on. Some tried to stop me. Others haven’t spoken to me since. In some opinions, what I did is absurd. But in my opinion, what I did isn't so bad.

I quit Facebook.

In honor of this -- the anniversary of one of lots of steps I've taken away from social media -- several posts this week and next will further fuel my passion for steering clear of the stuff (and possibly frustrate the folks who don't share my sentiments).

Stay tuned.

Fall upward.

2012-02-01T10:45:00.000-08:00

"Did you know the first half of life has to fail you? In fact, if you do not recognize an eventual and necessary dissatisfaction (in the form of sadness, restlessness, emptiness, intellectual conflict, spiritual boredom, even loss of faith, etc.), you will not move on to maturity. You see, faith really is about moving outside your comfort zone, trusting God's lead, instead of just forever shoring up home base. Too often early religious 'conditioning' largely substitutes for any real faith.

Usually, without growth being forced on us, few of us go willingly on the spiritual journey. Why would we? The rug has to be pulled out from beneath our game, so we redefine what balance really is. More than anything else, this falling/rising cycle is what moves us into the second half of our own lives. There is a 'necessary suffering' to human life, and if we avoid its cycles we remain immature forever. It can take the form of failed relationships, facing our own shadow self, conflicts and contradictions, disappointments, moral lapses, or depression in any number of forms.

All of these have the potential to either edge us forward in life or to dig in our heels even deeper, producing narcissistic and adolescent responses that everybody can see except ourselves. We either 'fall upward,' or we just keep falling." -Richard Rohr

Books in 2012: Evolving in Monkey Town

2012-01-29T18:21:00.000-08:00

A few days short of three weeks ago, by way of what I could call nothing less than an Internet miracle, I stumbled upon Rachel Held Evans's blog. She is a writer and a wife, a Christian egalitarian and a blogger in whose repertoire she tackles topics like gender roles, John Piper and why Calvinism makes her cry.

It was mild obsession at first sight.

Naturally, three and a half or four minutes later, I succumbed to the compulsion to order her book: Evolving in Monkey Town: How a Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask the Questions. As of tonight, it is the second book I've read start to finish in 2012.

The book is a memoir of her faith journey so far. Her faith's foundation started at home and church and was fostered further by her Protestant education. The book explores her faith's evolution through the years she spent in high school, in college and working for newspapers (I know what you're thinking: "Are you and Rachel Held Evans the same person?" No. But if I were married to a guy named Dan and she were Catholic, that "no" might be debatable.). It defines the difference between doubting God and doubting what we believe about Him. It challenges the uncanny knack some Christians have for confusing "faith" with "certainty." It encourages critical thinking and growth. And friends, it is fabulous. I laughed, I fist pumped and I forced my mom to let me passionately read excerpts of it aloud to her. Scroll down to see some of my favorites (with the best lines bolded):

"I'm an evolutionist because I believe that the best way to reclaim the gospel in times of change is not to cling more tightly to our convictions but to hold them with an open hand. I'm an evolutionist because I believe that sometimes God uses changes in the environment to pry idols from our grip and teach us something new." - pages 21-22

"Dan always says that as soon as you think you've got God figured out, you can bet on the fact that you're wrong." - page 118.

"When we require that all people must say the same words or subscribe to the same creeds in order to experience God, we underestimate the scope and power of God's activity in the world." - page 132

"If the poor were the most receptive to Jesus and his message, then the religious were the most repelled by it. They benefited too much from the status quo to benefit the radical teaching of Jesus, so they tested him with trick questions, criticized him for hanging out with sinners and ultimately helped arrange for his crucifixion." -page 153

"... I'm also convinced that our interpretations of the Bible are far from inerrant. The Bible doesn't exist in a vacuum but must always be interpreted by a predisposed reader. Our interpretations are colored by our culture, our community, our presuppositions, our experience, our language, our education, our emotions, our intellect, our desires, and our biases. My worldview affects how I read the Bible as much as the Bible affects my worldview." -page 192

"Sometimes I wonder who really had the most biblical support back in the 1800s, Christians who used Ephesians 6 to support the institution of slavery, or Christians who used Galations 3 to support abolition. Both sides had perfectly legitimate verses to back up their positions, but in hindsight, only one side seems even remotely justifiable on a moral level. On the surface, the Bible would seem to condone slavery. But somehow, as a church, we managed to work our way around those passages because of a shared sense of right and wrong, some kind of community agreement. Maybe God left us with all this discontinuity and conflict within Scripture so that we would have to pick and choose for the right reasons. Maybe he let David talk about murdering his enemies and Jesus talk about loving his enemies because he didn't want to spell it out for us. He wanted us to make the right decisions as we went along together." -pages 193-194

Click here for more about Evolving in Monkey Town. And click here to read Rachel's blog.

Things That Can't Be Explained Thursdays: Pt. 2

2012-01-26T07:17:00.000-08:00

Some things just can't be explained.

Like why it is not hilarious to call your dog by his or her name, but it is hilarious to call him or her by the name of his or her breed.

"Hello, Rudy." Not funny. "Hello, dachshund." Funny.

How to talk to a Catholic.

2012-01-25T17:41:00.000-08:00

So, I'm Catholic. As expressed in what I recently wrote for RELEVANTmagazine.com, how and where I worship Jesus has long frightened the bejeebers out of people whose religious leanings don't align with mine. It has long inspired questions that range from adorable to asinine.

"Is that the real man?" -four year old girl, while pointing at the Jesus statue nailed to the giant cross at the front of my church's sanctuary.

ADORABLE.

"Can priests be black?" -actual grown adult.

ASININE.

Nonetheless, whether legit or ridiculous, I never really have minded the questions much. That is not to say that talking about my church with people who disagree with my church is always easy. And you -- Catholic or not -- may have experienced that, too. These conversations are not necessarily limited to questions. In my own experience, few inter-ideological discussions had as much to do with a curious sibling in Christ's questions about my church as with his or her efforts to edify me about "what the Catholic Church teaches" (which is code for "his or her perception of what the Catholic Church teaches.").

I have a word for conversations like that:

FRUITLESS.

(Unless your goal is high blood pressure. Then, by all means.)

But not all conversations about doctrinal differences have to end with clenched fists, lost sleep and stress-induced acne. There is a set of ground rules, that when agreed upon, can make the experience both educational and enjoyable. I call it "How to talk to a Catholic." But what it is actually called is the Dialogue Decalogue.

The Dialogue Decalogue is a Ten Commandments-style set of rules to which it is worth it to stick when you're talking with someone of a different denomination within Christianity, or of a belief system not within Christianity at all.

Below, you'll find my two personal favorites (a.k.a. the ones my often well-meaning Protestant siblings in Christ usually break when they want to talk Catholicism with me). Below that, you'll find a link to the whole list.

Ground Rule Four - "One must compare only her/his ideals with their partner’s ideals, and her/his practice with their partner’s practice. Not their ideals with their partner’s practice." PREACH.

This is like when a Protestant says, "My church teaches X, but you do Y -- justify THAT."

The answer is "I don't do what your church says to do because I don't go to your church." Every time. Fruitless. The alternative? "My church teaches X. What does your church teach about X?" Like a Fig Netwon -- fruit-filled.

Ground Rule Five - Each participant needs to describe her/himself. For example, only a Muslim can describe what it really means to be an authentic member of the Muslim community. At the same time, when one’s partner in dialogue attempts to describe back to them what they have understood of their partner’s self-description, then such a description must be recognizable to the described party. YES. Because nothing says "I don't actually care about you." quite like "Hi, Catholic. I'm Protestant. Let me tell you what you believe." (And vice versa, Catholics who like to tell Protestants what they believe!) It is my job to tell you what I believe, and your job to tell me what you believe. Period.

Click here to read the whole Dialogue Decalogue.

Questions.

2012-01-23T09:17:00.000-08:00

A video worth watching:

Confessions.

2012-01-20T08:51:00.000-08:00

Confession is in session! Click here to read Confessions of a Catholic Christian, an essay I wrote for RELEVANTmagazine.com re: growing up Catholic in a Protestant world.

Communication.

2012-01-19T07:40:00.000-08:00

Communication is beautiful.

I imagine my family discovered my life-long love for it long before I did. I was the kid who wouldn't. stop. talking (only at home).

Communication creates and perpetuates a connection from one to others. It disseminates information. It affirms a person's authenticity or in-authenticity. I like communication. I got a degree in it-like it. I am as infatuated with it as I am with grammar (and I am obsessed with grammar).

Which is why when I started grad school, it was both wonderful and painful to learn the following:

You.

Can't.

Not.

Communicate.

It's impossible. Everything you do or don't do, every word you say or don't say, every time your body moves and doesn't

says...

something.

This isn't actions speak louder than words. It's actions (both voluntary and involuntary [e.g. body language], words (and their frequency and duration), inaction and silence all speak.

So we all always are saying something. We are in a constant state of sending and perceiving messages. But I think we get in trouble because we get a little caught up in assumptions.

We assume, for instance, that we're on the same page (figuratively speaking). We assume so-and-so picks up from my facial expression what I intended to put down with it (when in reality, so-and-so might see "anger!" on my face when what I mean to say with it is "Dude! Do you smell that, too?").

Which is why generally, it is good to use words. And it is better when you use actions to authenticate them.

Things That Can't Be Explained Thursdays: Pt. 1

2012-01-19T07:00:00.000-08:00

Some things just can't be explained.

Like why every time I type the word festival, I initially type festical. Including just then.

Telemarketers.

2012-01-11T09:20:00.000-08:00

A couple times every workday, I get calls from telemarketers.

But the encounters are usually cordial, and always quick -- I kick 'em off the phone before they finish their pitches. Early this month, however, a telemarketer caught me on a bad day. Then, he caught me off guard.

"Good morning!" he said. "How's the new year treatin' ya?"

"Not that great.," I said, frankly. "But thanks for asking."

"Well," he said, and paused thoughtfully. "Remember -- it's just the start," he said. "Give it time."

Wise guy (sincerely).

Ignore this advice.

2012-01-09T21:30:00.000-08:00

This morning, like every weekday morning, I got an email from a guy named Tom.

I don't know Tom. I don't know how long I've been on his list. But he sends his subscribers an inspirational quote every day -- a little insight designed to draw out the optimist in each of us, a message he hopes prepares us to see the day from a positive perspective.

Some days, I get something good out of what he sends.

Other days, there are three words I wish I could share with all Tom's other subscribers, re: the quote of the day:

Ignore this advice.

Today was one of those days. And this is today's quote:

"See things as you would have them be instead of as they are." -Robert Collier

Oh, Robert. According to the Internet (I know -- thorough.), Robert wrote a book (which he allegedly later admitted he only wrote in order to make a buck) chock full of advice like the above. Prior to critical thought about it, what Robert suggests sounds like a fun and fluffy effort to propel a person into positive thinking, or to protect him or her from turning negative thoughts into self-fulfilling prophecies.

But if you think harder...

"See things as you would have them be instead of as they are" sounds a lot like "Deny and distort reality because it's easier than doing hard things."

Denial and distortion are defense mechanisms. Denial is a person's refusal to accept reality (because accepting a particular reality would make him or her feel uncomfortable). Distortion, according to this guy, is "a gross reshaping of external reality to meet internal needs" -- an out from negative feelings when what's really going on around us isn't good.

Both denial and distortion are, essentially, seeing things as you'd have them be instead of as they actually are. Doing so has more to do with avoidance than optimism. If we avoid a difficult situation, we don't have to do a hard thing about it. If we don't have to do hard things, we don't have to feel bad things. But avoidance stunts growth. Give yourself permission to feel.

Books in 2012: Why do we Believe?

2012-01-08T09:37:00.000-08:00

The first book I started and finished in 2012 is Why do we Believe?: Strengthening Your Faith in Christ by Father Benedict J. Groeschel, CFR.

Groeschel, a priest who is pretty popular in certain Roman Catholic circles, is both a Franciscan friar and a psychologist. This little book of his -- which ends, if you don't count the appendices (and I don't), on page 103 -- is divided into four parts: Faith in God, Faith in Christ, Faith in the Church and How to Grow in Faith. Groeschel gets to the point pretty frankly and pretty quickly and so, I will do the same. Here are some of my favorite quotes from the book:

Father Scheeben says, 'The greater, the more sublime, and the more divine Christianity is, the more inexhaustible, inscrutable, unfathomable and mysterious its subject matter must be.' He goes on to point out that Jesus would give a very poor account of Himself as the Son of God if He revealed to us only things that we could have deduced by our own minds." - page 25

"Many people get involved in that useless old argument over faith and works. I never met good Protestants who didn't think they should obey God's will, and I never met good Catholics who thought they would get to heaven just by doing good works, such as giving away turkeys at Thanksgiving." - page 33

"Taken together with the mystery of the Cross, the glorious Resurrection is both the summit and the great test of faith, as summits test the stamina of mountain climbers." - page 56

"The Church is a collection of poor sinners. The Catholic Church is a collection of 1.1 billion very poor sinners. ... it is no wonder we have trouble." - pages 63-64

Books in 2012: a series.

2012-01-08T09:12:00.000-08:00

Dude. You should see my stack of unread books. (Click here.)

It is, in the history of stacks of things, not very big.

But as far as I'm concerned, it's taking up far too much of my space. So partly in effort to expand my horizons and partly because I want my closet to be bigger, I would like to take this opportunity to publicly declare 2012 ARLEEN'S YEAR OF SO MUCH MORE READING THAN IN YEARS PAST! ("Books in 2012" for short).

Assuming that while I read I am not also watching a How I Met Your Mother marathon or eavesdropping on the totally-unlikely-but-somehow-they-make-it-work couple sitting at the table nearest mine at Starbucks, I can pretty much comprehend what I read with clarity. But I am more likely to retain what I read if I dog ear the pages with the good stuff, underline the good stuff on those pages and share some of what I underlined with you on my blog.

I have no real plans for uniformity in the posts in this series -- no method in mind for imparting upon you, dear readers, the nuggets I stumble upon within this, my year of so much more reading than in years past. But my gut says that sometimes, I'll just post quotes and others, I essentially will write my own book in response to a book I've read. I can neither confirm nor deny, however, that I will actually thoroughly review any of the books I read because, really, who they heck am I? (And also, I'm busy.)

So in addition to the thoughts, rants and observations I tend to post at random, expect to see quotes from and/or thoughts about the books within the stack I intend to tackle this year.

Media literacy.

2012-01-06T21:09:00.000-08:00

"Even very young children can be taught important lessons about the media: that they are produced by people anxious to communicate messages; that these are often messages to do something - to buy a product, to engage in dubious behavior - that is not in the child's best interests or in accord with moral truth; that children should not uncritically accept or imitate what they find in the media."

Know who said it? Pope John Paul II, in a message he delivered on May 23, 2004 on World Communications Day. Who knew JP2 promoted media literacy?

A challenge.

2012-01-05T13:18:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have sat shotgun in my car, or who've talked with me on the phone while I am driving, odds are good that you've seen or heard my impatience with people in action. I confess -- both in those moments and now -- that loving people from behind the wheel of a moving vehicle kind of has been a challenge since my driving instructor Walter and I walked out of the DMV the day I got my license nine years ago.

Pretty immediately, I traded in phrases like, "Seatbelt? Buckled." and "Hands at 10 and 2? Check." (I know -- nerdbomber!) for ones like, "Is this person kidding me?," "How does this person sleep at night?" and "Dude, pick a lane!"

How easy it is to hurl harsh words when I refuse to acknowledge that behind the wheel inside the bubble that is the car moving at 35 in a 55 ...is a person.

A person deliberately created by the same God who deliberately created each of us.

A person Jesus says I should treat in the way I wish to be treated ("So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you ..." [from the book of Matthew]).

A neighbor I have been instructed to love (also from the book of Matthew).

Maybe, when another driver's decision doesn't cater to me, I can say thanks to God for keeping us safe instead of shouting. I can say, "Everybody makes mistakes." instead of judging. I can choose to love.

Back seat driver.

2012-01-02T15:56:00.000-08:00

It dawned on me the other day that I am a "backseat driver."

I am the kind who doesn't mind (and even prefers) that the driver is the one in control of the car. But even as the person not behind the wheel, I sometimes find it hard to forsake driver-like vigilance. I like to see what's coming.

There are two kinds of this kind of backseat driver. Both watch out for what goes on around the car. But one is compelled to warn the driver about what he or she sees coming, and the other isn't. I have been both.

The one who warns the driver doesn't want to control the car. But he or she also doesn't trust the actual driver -- not wholly, anyway. He or she may want to trust (because goodness knows it is a relief to relax, which is a passenger's privilege). But he or she may not trust because of a bad past experience, or narcissism ("I can see better than you can [because I am better than you are]!"), or because his or her particular driver isn't a good one. This kind of backseat driver is also annoying, frankly. No human wants to be this person's driver. And most drivers take this person's commentary personally, unless the driver knows the root of this person's distrust and is able to empathize with him or her.

The backseat driver who isn't compelled to warn the actual driver also doesn't wholly trust the driver (if he or she did, he or she would not, in fact, be a backseat driver). This kind definitely wants to trust the driver. This kind also would like to cash in on his or her right to revel in the relief that comes with knowing you are in good hands. So while his or her driver-like vigilance wavers -- sometimes he or she trusts, other times he or she doesn't -- this kind remembers to reflect on some things.

Like the fact that as a passenger, whether you do or don't trust the driver, you still are going to end up where ever the driver takes you.

Or the fact that as a passenger, it is not your responsibility to tell a good driver what to do.

Or the fact that (ideally), you wouldn't be in this car with this driver if you didn't think this driver was good.

Or the fact that from where we sit, we can't always see as much as the driver sees, or ever see it from the same perspective.

Or the fact that we really are free to relax while the driver takes care of the driving.

And so quietly, while this second kind of backseat driver pays attention but also reflects on the above, he or she practices trust. And at red lights and stop signs, he or she reflects on the parts of the ride that are behind them. And in retrospect, it is easier to see that, "I can trust this driver. And I do."

The other day, it also dawned on me that this -- how good at being passengers we are -- might be a metaphor.

What if life is the ride?

What if God is the driver?

Before and after.

2012-01-02T14:00:00.000-08:00

L to R: the Dec. 31, 2011 edition of the Times and the
Jan. 1, 2012 edition of the Times.
The end of one era, the beginning of another.

Books, books, books.

2011-12-30T19:41:00.000-08:00

For 2012, I'm dreamin' big -- and one of my dreams is to read a bigger chunk of my stack of unread books than I did in 2011. Think I can tackle it?

Still trying to decide which one to read first!

In 2011, I read a total of four books in full (which is shameful when compared to how many books I bought in 2011, but acceptable considering how busy I was in 2011 [This is what I tell myself. Go with it.]). I can't close out the year without a) suggesting these four books if you're looking for something to read and b) sharing some quotes from them that resonated with me.

Father Fiction: Chapters for a Fatherless Generation by Donald Miller

From a chapter called Dating:

" ... relationships, while rewarding, actually make life harder. They will bless your life, but they will bless your life through sacrifice. You are going to get more muscle out of it, and that's the attitude you have to have going into it in the first place."

From a chapter called Sex:

" [In this paragraph, Miller quotes himself in a talk he gave to a group of guys at a frat house.] 'Let's say you had a friend who was forty years old, and let's say this guy played video games all night, slept around with ten different women, whoever he could get to have sex with him, drank all the time, partied it up, the whole bit. Would you respect that guy?' The group shook their heads no, some of them voicing that they would think of him as a loser.

'Why?' I asked. 'Why would this guy be a loser?'

'Because he's forty,' somebody spoke up.

'What does that have to do with it? If somebody in your fraternity lives like this, he's not a loser. Apparently, he is well-esteemed.'

The group said that it was different because the other guy is supposed to be mature. He's supposed to have his life together.

'Yeah, I think so,' I began. 'I think he is supposed to be mature, because he is forty. But we've kind of said something here, haven't we? We've said that maturity doesn't stay up all night playing video games and doesn't sleep with ten women. Maturity practices self discipline and points a person's character toward a noble aim. And I think, even in your early twenties, there is this need for guys like us to grow up, to sort of usher other boys into manhood, into commitment, into self-respect and an understanding that actions matter to more people than just ourselves.'"

Veneer: Living Deeply in a Surface Society by Timothy Willard and Jason Locy

From a chapter called Sawmill:

"Philosopher Peter Kreeft observes, 'There is something radically wrong with a civilization in which millions devote their lives to pointless luxuries that do not even make them happy.'"

From a chapter called End Veneer:

"Every day, we encounter the spirit of this present age and, if we aren't careful, it will shape the way we think, and subsequently the way we act. So we must take great care of our minds with regard to what we allow to shape our thinking. In both letters, to the Ephesians and to the Romans, Paul urges Christians to a different kind of mind, one shaped by God."

The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are by Brene Brown

Click here to read my post about this book. But see below for some additional quotes!

From a chapter called Exploring the Power of Love, Belonging and Being Enough:

"One of the biggest surprises in this research was learning that fitting in and belonging are not the same thing, and, in fact, fitting in gets in the way of belonging. Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn't require us to change who we are; it requires us to be who we are."

From a chapter called Cultivating Intuition and Trusting Faith:

"I love this line from theologian Richard Rohr: 'My scientist friends have come up with things like principles of uncertainty and dark holes. They're willing to live inside imagined hypotheses and theories. We love closure, resolution and clarity, while thinking that we are people of faith! How strange that the very word faith has come to mean its exact opposite.'"

From a chapter called Final Thoughts:

"... in this world, choosing authenticity ... is an absolute act of resistance. Choosing to live and love with our whole hearts is an act of defiance. You're going to confuse, piss off, and terrify lots of people -- including yourself."

The 5 Love Languages: the Secret to Love that Lasts by Gary Chapman

Click here to read my post on this book.

The 5 Love Languages

2011-12-30T12:07:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of impassioned speeches I'd shout to the general public, given an opportunity and a megaphone.

One of them is about relationships.

"Love," I'd say, "if we love like Jesus loves, is unconditional. It is patient," I'd say, "and kind." And I'd quote the rest of 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. "And in our culture," I'd add, "we suck at it."

Because we are egocentric.

We are egotistical.

We don't think (or pray) before we act or speak.

Our attitudes imply "I'll love you if..." and we are unaware (or unwilling to admit) that our love is conditional (and therefore, that it isn't love).

In an ideal world, if a man or a woman saw some of this in him or herself, the awareness of it would compel him or her to change his or her thoughts and modify his or her behaviors until he or she becomes a better love-er. Only we aren't in an ideal world, so rarely does a guy or girl see it. And if one sees it, rare is it that he or she sees that something is wrong with it. And the result is dysfunction.

Dysfunction, however, is not an experience saved solely for the people who have tied the knot for the wrong reasons. Dysfunction is also a result of human nature (and it is multiplied when humans interact). It is a reality that can (and will) encroach on any relationship -- even the ones rooted in real love -- because even when we really do love, we are still human.

Still egocentric.

Still egotistical.

You catch my drift.

But in his book The 5 Love Languages, Gary Chapman -- a pastor, therapist and author -- says that despite our human nature, we can love for real, and if we already do love, we can love better. You know what I love?

His book! I read it last weekend.

Chapman's theory goes a little like this: There are five love languages: words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service and physical touch. A love language is what a person uses to express love. A person also feels loved when somebody else uses his or her love language. So let's say Joe's primary love language is receiving gifts (and let's also say he has never read any of Chapman's books). Whenever his wife gives Joe a gift, he feels loved by her. And Joe most often expresses his love for his wife by giving her gifts.

Which is awesome -- except, because Joe (like all humans) is egocentric, what may not dawn on him is that his wife's love language might not also be receiving gifts. And so while he implies "I love you!" with a gift, she does not infer "He loves me!" when she gets a gift. She certainly will appreciate receiving gifts from her husband, but her need to feel love coming from him probably won't be fulfilled. In order for that need to be fulfilled, she needs for Joe to speak her love language.

"The important thing," Chapman wrote on page 15 of the book, "is to speak the love language of your spouse." And "Seldom," he says, "do a husband and wife have the same love language."

I think at the core of Chapman's theory (these will be my words, not his) is the idea that love requires communication. It's typical, for instance, for someone to expect his or her significant other to do XYZ without ever telling him or her that XYZ is what he or she needs (and it is typical, therefore, for him or her to take it personally when his or her significant other doesn't deliver it). My hunch is that the desire to get what we need (or want) from a spouse, if and only if we can get it without asking, is directly related to how valued instant gratification is in our culture.

In a culture that values instant gratification, we don't want to work. We believe a relationship should flourish independent of work. We believe a relationship is most worth our time when it is with someone for whom doing what we would like to see them doing is always... instinctual (which never actually happens).

But back to the book.

On page 32, Chapman points out that when a couple "falls out of love" (that is, the warm and fuzzies aren't so constant), either "they withdraw, separate, divorce and set off in search of a new in-love experience, or they begin the hard work of learning to love each other without the euphoria of the in-love obsession."

He goes on to prove that learning to love without the euphoria is not only possible, but worth it. Click here to learn more about the book and click here to learn your love language. Read on for some of my favorite quotes:

"Some couples believe that the end of the in-love experience means they have only two options: resign themselves to a life of misery with their spouse, or jump ship and try again. Our generation has opted for the latter, whereas an earlier generation often chose the former. Before we automatically conclude that we have made the better choice, perhaps we should examine the data. ... Research seems to indicate that there is a third and better alternative: We can recognize the in-love experience for what it was -- a temporary emotional high -- and now pursue 'real love' with our spouse. That kind of love is emotional in nature but not obsessional. ... Our most basic emotional need is not to fall in love but to be genuinely loved by another, to know a love that grows out of reason and choice, not instinct." -pages 32 and 33

"The object of love is not getting something you want but doing something for the well-being of the one you love." -page 39

"A key ingredient in giving your spouse quality time is giving them focused attention, especially in this era of many distractions ... A wife who is texting while her husband tries to talk to her is not giving him quality time, because he does not have her full attention." -page 59

"Sometimes body language speaks one message while words speak another. Ask for clarification to make sure you know what she is really thinking and feeling." -page 63

"Each of us must decide daily to love or not to love our spouses. If we choose to love, then expressing it in the way in which our spouse requests will make our love most effective emotionally." -page 100

"You see, when an action doesn't come naturally to you, it is a greater expression of love." -page 139

"Love ... creates a climate of security in which we can seek answers to those things that bother us... (A) couple can discuss differences without condemnation. Conflicts can be resolved. Two people who are different can learn to live together in harmony." -page 144

The weary world rejoices.

2011-12-24T09:52:00.000-08:00

Even if we overate at office parties.

...if we spent well beyond our budgets.

...if reckless drivers tried harder to get prime parking than to protect pedestrians.

...if ruthless shoppers rolled their eyes at us because we paid with cash instead of credit.

...if it's 80 and humid on Christmas Eve.

...if there are 900 miles between us and someone we wish were here.

...if we are weary.

Even if we are tempted to be distracted by all those things, we have reason to rejoice.

"But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.'" -Luke 2:10-11

May we let what we celebrate disrupt our lives in all the ways they should be disrupted. And may whose birth we celebrate use what would otherwise distract us to fill us with a thrill of hope.

Why personal growth is professional growth

2011-12-21T08:38:00.000-08:00

Today, I'm a guest contributor at On the Profession, a blog maintained by my friend and classmate Richard. Check out my post "Why personal growth is professional growth" here.

Rocky.

2011-12-20T18:14:00.000-08:00

Today, this guy would have turned 15. Amazing the impact a silver dapple dachshund named Rocky can have on ya.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

2011-12-19T17:04:00.000-08:00

I still stand by what I said during my first semester of grad school:

Everybody should take one good counseling class -- something basic, like Foundations of Mental Health Counseling or something practical, like Dynamics of Marriage and Family Therapy.

But in case everyone isn't granted that opportunity, I feel compelled occasionally to share some of what somebody would get out of a good counseling class. Something like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse -- not the ones you read about in the book of Revelation, but the ones that marriage researcher and therapist John Gottman points out as predictors of divorce.

According to my Dynamics of Marriage and Family textbook (1), "it is not the exchange of anger that predicts divorce, but rather four forms of negativity that Gottman calls 'The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.'"

As a result of Gottman's study, he can predict with lots of accuracy whether a couple will divorce based on their use of the "four horsemen" in their interactions. What are the horsemen? Criticism, defensiveness, contempt and stonewalling.

Criticism is an attack on a person's character. The focus is on the spouse instead of on the spouse's disagreeable behavior. So, let's say a husband routinely doesn't warn his wife that he'll be home late from work. If she responds with criticism, she'll probably say something like the following: "I cannot believe you didn't call me again. I am pretty sure there is something seriously wrong with you." or "You are so frustrating! If you were a responsible adult, you would have told me in advance you'd be home late."

Defensiveness is "warding off a perceived attack," according to one great summary of the four horsemen (2). This spouse tends to make excuses for his or her behavior, or to respond to complaints with complaints of his or her own. So after the wife from our scenario says, "I am pretty sure there is something seriously wrong with you," the defensive husband might say something like, "Yeah? Well, I think there's something wrong with you because you used all the hot water this morning, again, and I had to take a cold shower."

Contempt is name calling, eye rolling, insulting, hostility, hurtful sarcasm, harsh tones of voice. It's ultimately emotional or psychological abuse. Pretty self explanatory.

Stonewalling is emotional withdrawal. It can look like the silent treatment, one word responses or physically leaving the room rather than responding to your spouse. So if after the wife from our scenario criticizes her husband for not telling her he'd be home late from work, he crosses his arms and sits silently or only says, "Yep." and nothing more, he's stonewalling.

I'd venture to say that for most humans, not doing these things is easier said than done. But I think we are all ahead when we are a) aware of them and b) aware that their presence plays a big role in a couple's inability to work through conflict. I also have a hunch that the horsemen show up in an emotions/behaviors cycle that -- though seemingly endless -- can be broken if a couple commits to breaking it.

So, for instance...

1. Husband works late every night and never calls to warn his wife about it (husband's behavior). So...

2. Wife feels neglected (wife's emotion). So...

3. Wife yells at (criticizes) husband when he gets home (wife's behavior). So...

4. Husband feels attacked, and therefore disrespected by and angry at his wife, and therefore doesn't much like to be at home (husband's emotion).

So...

1. Husband works late every night and never calls to warn his wife about it (husband's behavior).

You see where this is headed.

And where the cycle actually starts is moot. (It doesn't matter if the chicken or the egg came first.) What's important is that a couple a) becomes aware that what they always do isn't working and that b) the awareness of that propels them into doing something different. "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got."

So maybe, to start, the husband changes things up by calling his wife mid-day to warn her he'll be home late again tonight. Or -- better yet -- he arranges to be home at a decent hour. So rather than feeling neglected, his wife feels informed, or loved, or like she's important to him. And when they see each other at home for the first time since morning, because of what she feels, she greets him with a kiss instead of with criticism, and maybe tells him she appreciates that he called or came home early. And -- naturally -- her husband feels respected (or, at least not disrespected) or loved and discovers that being at home isn't so bad after all.

This, of course, is also always easier said than done. But it is doable. And according to Gottman, the need to do it isn't necessarily bad.

In a study he did with Krokoff in 1989, he concluded that "while conflict engagement (that is, direct, if angry, expressions of dissatisfaction) between partners might cause marital distress in the short run, such confrontation is likely to lead to long-term improvement in marital satisfaction by forcing couples, together, to examine areas of disagreement. (1)"

- - - -

1. From this book.

2. From this summary.

Invulnerability.

2011-11-29T08:02:00.000-08:00

Early this year, I posted a video of a talk by Brene Brown about the power of vulnerability.

I'm a little enthralled lately by Brown's research. She is really tackling something that -- at some points or others -- tries to tackle each of us. In the spirit of not letting that happen, I have to share another, equally awesome talk by Brown. This one's about the the price of invulnerability. Worth the 15 minutes to listen or watch.

Fear.

2011-11-28T15:16:00.000-08:00

I can't count how many wedding receptions I've wasted.

How many ball rooms whose floors I haven't scuffed.

Until last fall, while (almost) every wedding guest at almost every wedding I've attended danced to the music provided by a DJ, performed by a live band or provided and performed by a DJ and a drummer...

everyone else from my table could rest assured that no rogue wedding guests would swipe their bags of candied almonds. Because I'd never, ever leave my seat. Until the bouquet toss* -- the part of every wedding at which, oddly enough, I always have to use the restroom.

This 20-something year feud with the dance floor did not start because I don't like to dance. On the contrary, I love dancing. I enjoy it so much I have injured myself doing it (like the time I poked a hole in my foot when I accidentally danced onto one of these.) Also, my dog is probably scarred for some of what he's seen. I've got moves. Maybe not the moves, but they are moves.

My fight, it turns out, was not against dancing. It was against the letting go it takes to dance. The willingness to risk poking a hole in your foot. The willingness to risk looking ridiculous. In her book The Gifts of Imperfection, Brene Brown says it best:

It didn’t take me long to learn that dance is a tough issue for many people. Laughing hysterically can make us feel a little out of control, and singing out loud can make some of us feel self-conscious. But for many of us, there is no form of self-expression that makes us feel more vulnerable than dancing. It’s literally full-body vulnerability. The only other full-body vulnerability that I can think of is being naked, and I don’t have to tell you how vulnerable that makes most of us feel.

For many people, risking that kind of public vulnerability is too difficult, so they dance at home or only in front of people they care about. For others, the vulnerability is so crushing that they don’t dance at all. One woman told me, “Sometimes if I’m watching TV and people are dancing or there’s a good song playing, I tap my feet without even noticing it. When I finally catch myself, I feel embarrassed. I have no rhythm.”

There’s no question that some people are more musically inclined or coordinated than others, but I’m starting to believe that dance is in our DNA. Not super-hip and cool dancing, or line dancing, or Dancing with the Stars dancing—but a strong pull toward rhythm and movement. You can see this desire to move in children. Until we teach our children that they need to be concerned with how they look and with what other people think, they dance. They even dance naked. Not always gracefully or with the beat, but always with joy and pleasure.

Until we learn to be concerned by how we look, and with what other people think of us, we dance.

Until we learn to be concerned by how we look, and with what other people think of us, we aren't afraid to dance.

Until we learn to be concerned by how we look, and with what other people think of us, we aren't afraid to [fill in the blank].

What would you do if you had never learned to be concerned by how you look, or with what other people think of you?

What would you do if you had no fear?

*which will not be part of my hypothetical wedding reception. For the record.

Kids write the darnedest things.

2011-11-25T19:01:00.000-08:00

Make a mental note of this: if you have kids (currently or eventually), and your kids keep journals in school, make sure your kids save them. Because when a kid, say, turns 26 and stumbles upon a couple of bound collections of thoughts she wrote when she was 6, 7 and 8 years old, it's instant entertainment.

That, at least, is how it was for me when tonight, I stumbled upon the journals I kept as a first and second grader at Spring Hill Elementary School.

First Grade


"My mom wroks Monday, Wensday, Thersday, and Friday." Spelling error, or Freudian slip? I'll go with spelling error. My mom rocks seven days a week.

"I one a trofie from the siyins fary." Who rewards you with a quarter when you lose a tooth? The tooth fairy. Who rewards you for an exemplary science project? The science fairy.

"I love school.": Some things never change. "I want to milk a cow.": Some things do.

Second Grade

Nov. 9, 1993

"If I were a turkey..."

If I were a turkey, I'd be very pretty. I'd (wear) lipstick. And (clothes). I'd be the (prettiest) turkey in the world. But the people that found me better not try to chop me up and eat me because I'll grab an ax and chop (their) legs off. And I would have nail polish on too!

Part 1.

Part 2. Please note: not just any nail polish, but pink nail polish.

Dec. 10, 1993

"Christmas Poem"

Sugar plum candy tastes so good. It tastes the right way, the way it should! Here comes Santa with eight reindeer, with "Rudeoff" to lead the way. But tomorrow (?) is a very (special) day, when Jesus was born. MERRY CHRISTMAS!


I'm glad my belief in Jesus is the one that stuck. (For the record, I stopped believing in Santa when I was five. I faked it at school for years, though, for the sake of my less skeptical classmates.)

Jan. 10, 1994

"How to be Safe on a Bike"

You should have a helmet. If you don't, get one! If you live in front of a busy street, ride in your driveway with a helmet on. If you're on a street going somewhere on your bike, look both ways the same as when (you're) walking.

Some people have to be more careful. Some people don't think they need a helmet, but they do. It's better safe than sorry. Get a helmet if you don't have one. And never forget, it's better safe than sorry!

And by "some people," I'm pretty sure I meant "my brother."

This public service announcement is brought to you by a girl who had training wheels through age 7.

Gratitude.

2011-11-23T20:10:00.000-08:00

Thanks to a recent post on Michael Hyatt's blog (Practicing the Attitude of Gratitude), thinking on what I'm thankful for has been a priority lately. Hyatt wrote that he carries a rock in his pocket and that every time he happens to touch it, he gives thanks for what's happening where he is (good or bad). Hyatt also called all of us out for complaining as much as we do.

This could be better, that could be better, I wish this, I wish that. I'd be happier if...

He implies, I think, (and if he doesn't, I still believe) that it is more worth our while to dwell on what we're grateful for than to dwell on what we wish were different. That isn't to say we should avoid the things in our lives that we know need to change. It is, however, to say that if we aren't careful, we'll get so caught up in what we don't have that we'll devalue what we do have in the process. We'll stop noticing it altogether.

At the end of his post, Hyatt encouraged us to "press the pause button" to take some time to make a list of 20 items we're thankful for. So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I'll share my list (which is in no particular order). And I encourage you to make one of your own.

Thank you, God...

1. for the death and resurrection of Jesus
2. for the Internet
3. for my parents
4. for my job
5. for Your sovereignty
6. for pepper jack cheese
7. for cheese in general
8. for relationships that are authentic and are not superficial
9. for pillows and blankets
10. for epiphanies
11. that miracles aren't obsolete
12. for growth experiences
13. that growing pains are both temporary and worth it
14. for putting people in my life who are sane in a crazy world
15. for dark chocolate
16. for carrying me through this semester (and that it's over in a week and a day)
17. for the sound that waves make at the beach
19. for the night sky (mostly stars)
20. for how much we humans are worth solely because we exist

"Sexual Reconnection" by Dr. Peter Kreeft

2011-11-22T14:38:00.000-08:00

Today, while I searched for something to listen to while I worked, I discovered the mother load of free, downloadable lectures. (Yes, I get excited about lectures.)

They're by Dr. Peter Kreeft, a professor of philosophy at Boston College. Prior to today, I had heard of him, but I hadn't heard him speak.

One of his talks I heard today is called "Sexual Reconnection." I'll admit Kreeft is a little rough around the edges -- a little harsh, even -- but makes excellent set of points throughout. The lecture's in two parts on YouTube (press play below!) and free to download, among a bunch of others, here.

The other talk I heard is "How to Win the Culture War" -- click here to listen and/or download.

"Put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations."

2011-11-16T12:45:00.000-08:00

Life is hard.

And it's harder when we're anxious. We might, for instance, imagine an event that hasn't actually happened and become preoccupied by thoughts about it. We might replay something that has happened to us, over and over, and -- without awareness of this -- fabricate the details that the facts we've collected can't confirm or deny (like Joe Shmoe's thoughts or intentions). After awhile, we might feel like we've lost control of the thoughts. And by then, though what we're thinking hasn't actually happened to us, we actually feel the feelings we'd feel if it had. And though we can't know Joe's thoughts or intentions, we react as though our assumptions about his thoughts and intentions are correct.

It's no way to live (and I can say that because I've lived it). It is, however, a power a person can learn to harness. In the moment -- the instant you realize what you're doing -- you might try asking yourself some questions.

1. Is what you are thinking about relevant to your life today, this hour, this minute? (Do you need to be thinking these thoughts right now? Do you need, right now, to be making the plans you're making?) Because it's natural to wonder whether you'll get the new job or you won't, but dwelling on it while you are responsible for other things (i.e. being present for your spouse, your child, your current employer) robs you (and them) of your presence and attention. Kick it up a couple anxious notches: it's natural to think a lot about how sad it will be when your dog dies if your dog is, in fact, dying. It is not, however, necessary to think a lot about it if your dog is at no immediate risk of dying, or if you are, for example, not actually a dog owner. When you ask "Is this relevant?" and your answer is no, say STOP (out loud if it helps, unless you're the passenger in a moving vehicle -- that usually ends badly.). Then get busy or selfless and see what happens. But when you ask "Is this relevant?" and your answer is yes, move on to the next question.

2. Is what you are thinking about rational? (What evidence do you have that proves there is truth to what you're thinking? What evidence do you have that proves there isn't truth to what you're thinking?) Let's say you texted your significant other this morning, and it's lunch time now, and he or she still hasn't responded. For somebody who tends toward anxiety, a thought might pop into his or her head. It starts out like this: "Well that's strange." And, usually pretty quickly, it turns into this: "How dare she give me the cold shoulder! I so bet she's gonna dump me. This is completely ridiculous." All the information he has is a) I texted her and b) she hasn't responded. What that makes "How dare she give me the cold shoulder!" and "I so bet she's gonna dump me." and "This is completely ridiculous." is a set of assumptions, otherwise known as details he fabricated. He has no proof there is truth to his thoughts. There are a lot of facts he doesn't know, and one of them might be that her phone is off, or she left it at home. When you ask "Is this rational?" and your answer is no, say STOP. Then get busy or selfless and see what happens. But when you ask "Is this rational?" and your answer is yes, move on to the next question.

3. Is the time (and energy!) you're spending devoted to the thoughts you are thinking worth it? (What good comes from thinking the thoughts? How does thinking the thoughts help your situation? Are there other things you could do that would be more productive?) You got the call, and learned you didn't get the job. You need a job (a belief that is rational). But now, you stew. You might even seethe since you wanted that job, and, frankly, would have kicked it in the pants. So you think, a lot, about how unjust it is that you didn't get it. How much better at the job you think you'd be than the person who did get it. How the company's going to suffer without your expertise. And you think about it for hours. What good does it do you? How far toward getting a job does it push you? Are there other things you could do with that time and energy? Is what you are expending on this worth it? When you ask "Is this worth it?" and your answer is no, say STOP. Then, get busy, doing what is productive, get selfless and see what happens.

And I won't tell you what to do if your answer to "is it worth it" is yes.

It never is.

"Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow. The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow, and every day. Either he will shield you from suffering, or he will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace, then. Put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations." -St. Francis de Sales

We have not forgotten.

2011-11-14T10:15:00.000-08:00

Confession: Canon in D* is to me what nails on a chalkboard is to the average human.

I can't explain it. But I can't. stand. it.

So it surprises me every year when I remember that Christmas Canon Rock is one of my favorite Christmas songs.

Of all time.

Ever.

Christmas Lights - Christmas Canon Rock from David Tilson on Vimeo.

It says:

This night, we pray our lives will show this dream He had.
Each child still knows.
This night, we pray our lives will show this dream He had.
Each child still knows.

We are waiting.
We have not forgotten.

We are waiting.
We have not forgotten.

Over and over and over.

And over and over, within and outside the seasons of Advent and Christmas, I wonder what our lives do show.

Love, or anything but?

His dream, or ours?

This night, we pray our lives will show this dream He had.
Each child still knows.

We are waiting.

We have not forgotten.

May we live like we haven't forgotten.
- - -

*Canon in D

Toys.

2011-11-06T15:00:00.000-08:00

In my childhood, I looked forward to November for three reasons: birthdays (mine, my mom's and my grandma's), Thanksgiving dinner and the arrival -- via our mailbox and newspapers -- of toy catalogs, which I'd use to make my Christmas list.

So this morning, when I stumbled upon a toy catalog in the newspaper, I had to have a look, for old times' sake. I didn't figure I'd find the Play-Doh and crayons and board games of yore. But I have one word in response to what I did find, like Bratz and Monster High dolls (the latter of which I had never heard of). That one word is this:

Really?

Of all the things one could buy for kids to play with, "the fun toys" -- according to the ad -- are the ones in short skirts, tight shirts and pairs of fishnet stockings (which they wear on their anatomically impossible legs).

The "fun toys" are these:

And these:

And if you like how fishnets look on your daughter's doll, you can also buy them for your daughter:

We wonder why, when a four year old girl is asked what she wants most in the world, it's to look like Hannah Montana (1). We wonder why little girls look (and act) like teenagers, why teenagers look (and act) like adults. But then, when the impact of dolls dressed like the ones in this ad is questioned, parents say, "Please... every girl plays with this stuff. It's what they like!"

And why is that?

"When you don't think critically about what is being consumed, you will throw up your hands and say 'this is what everybody wears!' (or 'this is what every kid plays with!')," said my human sexuality professor -- Dr. Dae Sheridan (2) -- in a class over the summer. "You won't realize this is an industry designed to take your money ... you can change the demand."

She added, "We're pushing our children into these little boxes based on what's available to purchase. Be a savvy consumer. Think about Bratz dolls. They have large lips and boobs, tiny waists (and are) dressed in fishnets and belly shirts ... Parents say 'this is just what kids wear' (and 'this is just what kids play with') but it wouldn't be ... if parents stood up and (stopped buying it). We have to question it."

PREACH.

- - - -

1. It's Time to Reshape Our Beauty Standards

2. Dr. Dae Sheridan

Do not quit.

2011-10-31T07:03:00.000-07:00

Today, I woke up to realize only five weeks remain in what is, so far, my most difficult semester of grad school yet. Being here -- in this position, at this time -- reminds me of what it's like to feel the finish line coming from my seat on a dragon boat.

A couple springs ago, I spent a season on a dragon boat team and a day competing in the Tampa Bay Dragon Boat Races. For those who haven't "dragon boated," it's kind of an art form to paddle in synch with 19 other people. It's exhilirating. And exhausting. The easy part -- once you've trained -- is starting strong. The hard part is staying strong for the rest of the race. Your job is to throw that arm into the air and put the paddle back in the water, over and over and over like everyone else. You get splashed. You get blisters. Your whole body hurts.

In a race in the Garrison Channel, I could feel the finish line coming. I paddled. And when the only thing everything in me wanted to do was stop, I started to chant.

Do.

Not.

Quit.

It started in my head.

Do.

Not.

Quit.

I whispered it.

Do.

Not.

Quit.

I said it out loud, one word for every time my paddle hit the water. Seconds later, the race was over.

Five more weeks 'til winter break. I think it's time to chant.

Where the rich people go.

2011-10-30T11:50:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday to my friend and fellow blogger SVB! To celebrate, she and I and a handful of other ladies met up last night at Bern's Steakhouse.

For those who aren't local, Bern's is a restaurant on S. Howard Ave. in South Tampa. It has valet parking. And a dress code. And a cheese cave. It's where the rich people go, and where those of us who aren't rich find humor in the "subtle" ways we reveal it.

Examples:

1. Saying "Am I supposed to tip you now, or should I do that later?" to the valet driver when you arrive

2. Whispering "Do you think they can tell I'm not rich?" to your friends while you're waiting for your table

3. Breaking the routine for the valet driver who retrieves your car at the end of the night -- i.e., Mercedes, Mercedes, Plymouth Neon with very little paint left on it

But fitting in is not what a trip to Bern's is about. It, I learned, is all about the dessert room. To celebrate SVB's birth, we skipped dinner (and, legend has it, dodged the depletion of our savings accounts) and went straight to the Harry Waugh Dessert Room upstairs. Which -- as it turns out -- is my new favorite restaurant.

And it's not my new favorite restaurant just because I was given the opportunity to order this:

as well as this:

Don't judge me. I brought (most of) one of them home.

In addition to what you get to eat in the process, my new-found bias toward the dessert room has a lot to do with what it's like to be there. For starters, the dress code means you get to (well, have to) dress up, and I always enjoy a good excuse to do that. Plus, the trek through Bern's to the dessert room is like a tour of a haunted mansion, sans cobwebs. And as soon as you're up the stairs and walking toward the dessert room, you can smell it: all of what will wake you up or put you to sleep, depending on your body's response to sugar. Inside, every table is private, in its own giant wine barrel, where you can be as loud or as quiet as you'd like and no one else in the restaurant will notice.

So glad SVB chose it for her birthday celebration. So looking forward to going back.

Josh Garrels on love.

2011-10-28T13:34:00.001-07:00

Imperfection.

2011-10-23T09:42:00.000-07:00

A (delightfully) lazy Sunday so far, I spent this morning finally finishing a book I started earlier this year:

The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are by Brené Brown, Ph.D., L.M.S.W.

They say don't judge a book by its cover, but I loved it before I cracked it because the title alone points to a reality that so pervades our culture but is, in my opinion, so largely ignored: we work hard to assure that the people we encounter will perceive us a certain way, and in the process, we forfeit authenticity. And we do it so hard, with such passion, that over time, the line between "who I think I'm supposed to be" and "who I am" gets blurry. We learn to believe "I only can be comfortable if I achieve a certain image." and we live in denial of the truth: I can never be comfortable when I don't accept who I am.

Brown's book is based on a study she conducted in which she came to the following conclusion: One trait marks the difference between adults who feel like they're loved and belong and adults who struggle to feel like they're loved and belong: "the belief in their worthiness." Throughout the book, she makes great points. See below for some of my favorites.

From page 25: "One of the biggest surprises in this research was learning that fitting in and belonging are not the same thing, and, in fact, fitting in gets in the way of belonging. Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn't require us to change who we are; it requires us to be who we are."

From page 106: "I used my research to formulate a plan to lessen my anxiety. The men and women I interviewed weren't anxiety-free or even anxiety-averse; they were anxiety-aware. They were committed to a way of living where anxiety was a reality but not a lifestyle ... (in normally anxiety-inducing situations,) I try to be slow to respond and quick to think Do we even have all the information we need to make a decision or form a response?"

From page 121: "There are many ways in which men and women hustle for worthiness ... the two that keep us the most quiet and still are hustling to be perceived as 'cool' and 'in control.' ... Being 'in control' isn't always about the desire to manipulate situations, but often it's about the need to manage perception. We want to be able to control what other people think about us ..."

And what Brown points out in the book, overall, is that life is far more whole when we drop our efforts to control what other people think -- which, as my all my therapist and psychologist professors would tell you, is both fruitless and impossible.

For more about Brown's book, click here. And for a great video of a short talk Brown gave based on the book, click here.

Natural Family Planning: Part 2

2011-10-21T15:52:00.000-07:00

As promised, I'd like to introduce you to a young couple that uses natural family planning. For a project I did on natural family planning over the summer, I interviewed Dustin and Bethany from Glen Carbon, IL. Dustin is creator of a great blog called Engaged Marriage. Here are some excerpts from our interview:

Dustin and Bethany have been married for 10 years. Dustin, 32, is an engineer and creator of engagedmarriage.com, a blog about marriage and parenthood. Bethany, 30, is a stay at home mom. For the first few years of their marriage, the couple used the pill. After discovering NFP online and delving more deeply into their Catholic faith, they stopped using contraceptives in favor of NFP. They have three children: 6-year-old Braden, 4-year-old Kendall and 1-year-old Avery.

A: Why did you decide to use NFP?

B: When we were first married, we were using the pill and we were very, very uncomfortable with it.

D: But we honestly thought there were no alternatives. (When) we decided we wanted to have our first child, we were looking for ways to make sure we would get pregnant on our schedules. We’re both planners. We discovered (NFP) on the internet. The first month we were using it, we got pregnant. We’ve been using it (to achieve and avoid pregnancies) for six years.

A: What models of NFP have you used?

D: We started off using (a symptothermal model) and in the last six months or so, we’ve been using the Marquette model. When you introduce technology like the fertility monitor, it makes our generation comfortable. It’s just easier. If you’re not comfortable with all these different signs, all you really gotta do is pee on a stick.

A: In what ways is using NFP different for you than using contraceptives?

B: Our sex life is much improved. (So is) the quality of our intimacy. I would never go back (to contraceptives), ever.

D: (On the pill), you can have sex whenever you want. It sounds great, but looking back, it wasn’t great physically, spiritually or emotionally. Now, (sex is) more like a form of communication. Once you experience the difference, most people wouldn’t go back.

B: NFP wants you to have lots of good sex. It (respects) the woman and her gift of fertility. How amazing is it that the love between the two of us can create a whole ‘nother person? NFP promotes life and intimacy and communication.

D: Contraception implies you should always be able to have sex whenever you want it, that it’s purely recreation. You’re able to exclude creation from (sex) at will. The Catholic Church teaches that it’s ok to have sex when you’re not fertile, (but) it’s not ok to turn off your own fertility.

A: What are the pros of NFP?

B: Becoming familiar with my own fertility has been a big benefit for me. My cycles are never regular, (but) we’re able to manage that. It also brings us closer. We have to talk.

D: Communication is a big one. We see lots of benefits: Appreciation of intimacy. We don’t take (sex) for granted. It’s a lot deeper for us now that we practice NFP. It’s a big thing for us that (Bethany’s) not on artificial hormones. (And for) people who use NFP, the divorce rate is less than five percent.

A: And the cons?

B and D: Abstinence! (laughs)

D: It may be your tenth anniversary and you may not get to enjoy that the way you’d like. You may have to abstain longer than you’d like when your cycle gets disrupted for whatever reason.

B: Doctors can be very un-supportive. In the span of 20 minutes, my (former) doctor asked me five times if I wanted to be on the pill.

D: (The doctor said) you can call it hormone therapy if you don’t want to call it birth control.

B: It was frustrating. He didn’t understand, and that’s disappointing.

A: Have any of your pregnancies been unplanned?

D: We planned all three of our children. We’ve not had any unplanned pregnancies. If you follow the rules, it’s the same as condoms or birth control.

Click here to read Natural Family Planning: Part 1.

Natural Family Planning: Part 1

2011-10-20T20:48:00.000-07:00

In a recent conversation, somebody said she doesn't think a person's religious leanings should play a part in his or her decision to use or not use contraceptives -- that the church, frankly, should stay out of it.

But I think a common misconception, both within the church and outside of it, is that faith is one of several separate parts of a person's life. If you know me, you already know I disagree. Your faith -- at least among practicing Christians, whether Catholic or Protestant -- is not one of several separate parts of life. It is the umbrella that covers all the parts of your life. It is the compass by which you decide how you will live.

Which is why -- especially among practicing Catholics -- a person's religious leanings do play a part in his or her decision to use or not use contraceptives. And practicing Catholics choose not to use them.

This is usually the part of the conversation at which a head shakes and somebody uses words like "irresponsible." And I understand that, especially given the state of the world, the latest stats about the prevalence of sexually transmitted infections and the popular belief that there already aren't enough resources to go around.

However.

(There's always a but.)

In lieu of contraceptives, what practicing Catholics do use is natural family planning (NFP). This is usually the part of the conversation at which a head shakes and somebody uses words like "outdated" and "rhythm method" and "Duggar family." Then I laugh, and I tell him or her this: The Duggars do not use NFP. I repeat: The Duggars do not use NFP! (They are part of a movement called Quiverfull, the participants of which forgo family planning of any kind.) That is why they have a show called 19 Kids and Counting.

NFP is neither outdated, nor is it the rhythm method. It is used either to avoid or achieve pregnancy. It requires a couple to monitor signs of the woman's fertility and to abstain from sex periodically -- when the woman is fertile -- if the couple doesn't want to get pregnant. And when a couple wants to get pregnant, they can use their awareness of fertility to choose to do the deed when the conditions are right for pregnancy. There are several modern kinds of NFP (initially, the Billings Ovulation Method, the Creighton Model and the Marquette Model come to mind) which, when used consistently and correctly, are 98-99% effective for preventing pregnancy, which is equivalent to the efficacy of condoms or the pill. So why, when medical science allows for quick, convenient ways to prevent pregnancy as well as NFP does, do we still choose NFP?

1. It's natural: Dr. James Linn, an OB/GYN I interviewed for a project in the human sexuality class I took over the summer, said it better than I can:

"If you look at many of the methods of contraception, they have a long list of potential risks and complications. Take the very common form used by a lot of young women: birth control pills. Because of the higher than normal estrogen doses, she increases her risk for strokes, breast cancer and blood clots and those can break loose and go up to her heart and her lungs. Those are three big deals. Look at the side effects – things that aren’t really life threatening: mood changes, decreased sex drive. Depression and weight gain are common with Depo-Provera. ... The other thing a lot of people don’t realize with a lot of hormonal contraceptive methods (is that) the more current birth control pills that have been around for the last 20 years don’t suppress ovulation a hundred percent. In order to make them safer, the dose has been lowered and in lowering the dose, they are less effective in suppressing ovulation. They alter the lining of the uterus so an embryo won’t be able to implant. So what could be happening some of the time is ovulation may take place, the sperm may meet with the egg in the tube and normally, an embryo implants about a week later. Well, it won’t allow implantation, so the embryo gets shed out. That mechanism of action is really an abortion, rather than contraception."

2. It facilitates communication, and multiple levels of intimacy: A couple can't practice NFP without talking about their relationship and sex. Additionally, since a couple that uses NFP can't necessarily have sex every time they'd like, they are challenged to learn to be intimate in alternative ways. And while both communication and multiple levels of intimacy are generally a good idea for couples, both are rare in the average American relationship.

3. It wholly promotes the purpose of sex. The purpose of sex is twofold: babies and bonding. By using NFP, a couple works with the human body as it is designed, to achieve or avoid pregnancy by having sex when pregnancy is or isn't likely, respectively. By using contraceptives, a couple works against the human body as it is designed, nullifying part of the purpose of sex and reducing pregnancy from "miracle" to "consequence."

Plus, it encourages a couple to treat sex like the sacred act it is. And NFP requires that family planning is a responsibility shared by both partners, rather than the responsibility of either the man or the woman. Also, bonus, it's free or cheap.

NFP, unfortunately, isn't very popular. And I don't expect -- at least in a culture enamored by instant gratification and averted to doing anything if it's difficult -- that it ever will be. But there are lots of couples who use it, and use it happily. And in part two, I will introduce you to one of them. Check back soon.

Control.

2011-10-19T14:43:00.000-07:00

I'd be lying if I said I have never felt like what I did or said had changed my course so completely that I ruined my chances of achieving something. That a decision I made had created conditions that made it impossible for me to get what I wanted. That a part of me had so turned someone off -- be it an aquaintance, a potential employer, a guy -- that had I only spoken or behaved differently, the rupture that rendered our relationship over forever never would have existed.

So then I feel like thanks to me, I've lost everything I could've, should've or would've had.

As if I have that kind of control.

The truth is we are in control of what we say and do. And sometimes, that thing I say or do in fact does change my course so completely that what I thought I had coming never comes. And sometimes, that decision I make does create conditions that aren't favorable for getting what I want. And sometimes, that part of me is why a relationship is severed.

But an important and often neglected part of this truth is that because my course or conditions change or somebody walks away because of me does not mean I didn't get what I could've, should've or would've had. It means I didn't get what wasn't meant to be. I didn't get what wasn't designed for me.

And if it wasn't for me, why would I even want it?

Once, Job said this to God (Job 42:2): “I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted."

Amen.

9/11 fire fighter

2011-09-10T05:19:00.000-07:00

In honor of the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I wrote this story about retired FDNY Lieutenant Tim Harrigan, who was part of the rescue and recovery efforts at ground zero. It'll be in print tomorrow in the Pasco Times.

Dogs.

2011-08-27T11:04:00.000-07:00

I have always known how amazing the impact is that animals have on humans.

It started when I was six or seven and my parents bought me my first fish: Lippy. I named her that because she was white with pink lips. When she died, I cried. A lot.

It continued when, in second grade, my dad brought Willy home:

And in fifth grade, when my dad brought home Rocky:

While Willy, Rocky and I grew up together, I came to two conclusions:

1. Each dog's presence in my life was completely precious.

and

2. There's no way I could ever survive their deaths.

But if you've known me long, you know Willy died at almost 16 in the spring of 2009, and Rocky died at 13 in the spring of 2010. (And you also know I survived.) But the presence of both of those dogs, and the dog I have now (Rudy!), taught me a lot. I learned to sacrifice (Tiny dogs take up more room in a bed than you'd think.) and to wait (I just couldn't get my dogs to poop on command.). I learned to put somebody else's needs before my wants (like when Rocky was dying -- I didn't want to watch him deteriorate, but I had to put his need for companionship before my desire to not be uncomfortable.) Ultimately, I learned to love. But as amazing as an animal's impact can be on a human, I never thought much about how amazing a human's impact can be on an animal. I realized it recently.

Which is why I wept when I watched this video, of a Navy Seal's dog, who settled in front of his owner's casket at his owner's funeral:

If I have a dog when I die, I so want him or her at my funeral. Animals grieve, too.

Click here to read about the above video and animal grief in the New York Times.

Storm.

2011-08-21T07:26:00.000-07:00

Typical storm in Florida (filmed Aug. 20, 2011 on my back porch). (And if you watch 'til the end, or fast forward, typical Arleen in a storm.)

Actual song lyrics.

2011-08-19T22:18:00.000-07:00

On my drives to and from work and school, I tend to scan Tampa's radio stations, most of which play the kinds of songs I only started to like when -- last year, at my cousin Frankie's wedding -- I realized how fun it is to dance. And almost a year later, I have to get the following of my chest: If I always tell my friends and family not to listen to the lyrics when they're in my presence while I'm listening to music (and I do), I probably should find some new music. Just sayin'.

Anyway, as I've come to this conclusion over recent weeks, I realized how little I actually listen to the lyrics when I'm scanning for songs fun for dancing and/or driving. So, I started paying attention. Here is some of what I found:

1. "Girl, please excuse me if I'm coming too strong / But tonight is the night we can really let go / My girlfriend's out of town and I'm all alone / your boyfriend's on vacation and he doesn't have to know."
("I Like It," by Enrique Iglesias feat. Pitbull)

2. "He ain't even gotta try to put the mack on / He just gotta give me that look / When he give me that look / Then the panties comin' off." (Superbass by Nicki Minaj)

3. Male voice: "Tell me what's next, alien sex / I'ma disrobe you, then I'ma probe you / See I abducted you / so I tell ya what to do / I tell ya what to do, what to do, what to do." Female voice: "Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me / Infect me with your love and fill me with your poison / Take me, ta-ta-take me / Wanna be a victim / Ready for abduction." (E.T. by Katy Perry, feat. Kanye West)

Know what those are? Actual song lyrics from songs that are actually popular on radio stations to which actual children listen. I don't know what bothers me more: the songs, or the fact that hardly anybody ever bats an eye about them, like the anonymous commenter who responded last time I blogged about bad music:

"I think u guys are making this more than it has to be. It's a song with a good dance beat!!!!N no disrespect, but if it is offensive or you don't care for it just switch to another station. Stop takin things so serious!!! If I took things so serious I would never leave my house, watch television, or listen to music."

I don't disagree entirely. Take Enrique's "I Like It." It is, in fact, a song with a good dance beat. Just a song. But the anonymous commenter doesn't realize his or her point proves mine: What has music become when it's something we'd feel obligated to shun if we analyzed it? What have we become when we know that and choose not to analyze it anyway?

Well, I've analyzed. And one fun song with bad words -- like "I Like It" -- isn't a very big deal. But it isn't one song. It is most songs, and they send messages that call relationships dispensable, sex trivial and rape glamorous (Though these are just the aforementioned three. But if you don't think there are more, turn on your radio.). And when most songs send messages like that, messages like that are normal. It's just music. Just a song.

But is it?

This reminds me of the time a friend of mine expressed concern when I told her why I choose not to consume caffeine. Why don't I drink coffee? Well, my body's response to it is fun, but only until my friends start questioning my sobriety. And when the hyperactivity turns into anxiety, and my resting heart rate reaches 150, and my colleagues want to take me to the hospital (true story), the caffeine becomes completely not worth it.

"Um, that's not normal," my friend said. "Most people don't have that reaction."

True. But most people are desensitized to it. Immersed in it, if you will. It's like horror movies. Some of us jump or scream at what we see on screen, and others sit silently with straight faces. How we react depends on how desensitized we are to it, or how immersed in it we've been. The more immersed we are, the less it bothers us. And maybe, in our culture, it isn't normal to strike other people as drunk after you drink coffee. But look at what is normal:

Infidelity.

Sexually transmitted infections.

Sexual violence.

None of us like those things. We should be bothered by those things. But when our songs are about dispensable relationships, casual sex and encounters that sound a lot like rape, our songs are about those things.

Are they still just songs?

Or are they songs we hear so much they're normal? Songs to which we don't even react, we're so desensitized. Songs that teach us to be less and less bothered by things that should never cease to bother us.

Beauty Standards.

2011-08-06T10:49:00.001-07:00

My latest column -- about beauty standards -- is in print tomorrow and online now. Click here to read it.

Accidents.

2011-07-31T07:39:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I drove south on US 19 in Spring Hill, Fla. on my way to work. At the intersection at the county line, flashing lights from squad cars and fire trucks forced all southbound drivers to merge to the right. The traffic light turned red, so I had a minute to look for whatever it was on the left that required the presence of the emergency responders.

First, I saw the motorcycle. Then, I saw the body.

Upon my arrival at work, where my colleagues pursued the story, I learned a young woman in a red truck had run the light, killing the motorcyclist as he crossed the intersection. She did it after escaping arrest for driving while intoxicated and dragging a deputy (who'd jumped on to her truck to try to stop her) across 19's northbound lanes as she sped away. The deputy survived. A mile or so north of the motorcycle crash scene, deputies caught the driver. She has been in jail ever since.

In a recorded jailhouse call between the driver and the father of her baby, she says some of the following, through tears:

"As far as the deputy, she jumped on the truck. It's not like I hit her. She fell off. It was her decision to jump on the truck ... what was I supposed to do?"

"I didn't run (the motorcylist) over on purpose."

"It was a car accident."

Really? An accident?

Earlier this year, I interviewed Tom Vanderbilt -- the brilliant author of the brilliant book Traffic -- and in the essay about driving in which I quoted him, we came to the following conclusions:

Calling a crash an accident "implies there's no way this could have been prevented, that it was unforeseeable," Vanderbilt said. Phrases like "drunken-driving accident" are most egregious, he said.

The word "accident" enables negligent drivers. It lets a person create conditions in which vehicles are likely to collide and call it unpredictable after it happens.

The belief that it's all right to call all car collisions "accidents" is not limited to the jailed driver from the crash scene I saw in May. Read a newspaper. Eavesdrop while you people watch. It comes up a lot. I am of the opinion that it has to stop.

When we call a crash an accident, we permit the person responsible for it to relinquish responsibility. We admit what happened is bad, but minimize the incident because -- after all -- the driver didn't mean to.

What we don't consider when we call crashes accidents is that premeditation is not a prerequisite for responsibility. You don't have to plan out something for it to be your fault. But if we call crashes "accidents," we perpetuate that belief, which lets a lot of bad decision makers off the hook. It becomes easy to live like "I didn't mean to!" means "I'm not responsible!"

But when we call a crash what it is -- a crash or a collision -- it's something worth dissecting. It's something that, when dissected, is actually pretty predictable.

I am 100% certain the driver who ran the light that morning at County Line Road did not get in her truck that day with intentions to use it to kill someone. But she decided to use drugs. She decided to get in the car. She decided to escape police custody -- after she was already in handcuffs -- and flee in her truck. She decided to drive more than 70 miles per hour with a deputy hanging off her vehicle. She decided to blow a red light.

You can say the same about somebody who decides to text and drive. Somebody who decides to speed in the rain. To weave in and out of traffic. To dig through the console. To drive while you're really, really tired.

When something happens while we do those things, it's not an accident. It's negligence.

- - - -

Click here to listen to listen to the driver's jailhouse call and to read the story.

Human Sexuality

2011-07-28T19:58:00.000-07:00

For anyone who stumbles upon this out o' the blue, you may not know: I love grad school. I mean, I get sad at the end of every semester love it. I force my friends and family to listen to me talk about what I'm learning love it. I really love it.

And the short summer semester I just finished is no exception. One of two classes I took was in human sexuality, taught by Dr. Dae Sheridan, a sex therapist who practices in Tampa. As much as I've enjoyed most of my classes, this was by far one of the best. What working at Popeyes Chicken in high school did for me and the word breast, this class did for me and words like vulva. Ain't no thang! But more than desensitizing us to words we once found awkward to say, the class got us to think, write and talk about topics that are imperative to consider, both as counselors and as humans. Here are the five I liked to discuss the most:

1. Sexually transmitted infections (a.k.a. STIs, f.k.a. STDs): One in two sexually active adults age 25 or older has or has had an STI. One in two. In case you'd like more emphasis, that's every other. Add to that the one in four teenagers who has an STI. During class, Dr. Dae -- my brilliant prof -- made a really good point: Think about salmonella for a sec. According to my notes from class, every year, about 20,000 cases of it are reported to the CDC. And what happens when it's reported? Food is recalled, we throw out all our spinach and it's all over the news. In other words, WE FREAK OUT. Now, think about HPV -- an STI also known as the human papillomavirus. How many new cases are reported to the CDC each year? A couple million. But when have we ever freaked out about that? Something to think about.

2. The origins of sexual orientation: When I was in high school, one of my teachers decided to start a class-wide conversation about the origins of homosexuality. "It's a choice," she said. "People choose to be gay." For awhile, I let her have her say. When I interjected, I simply asked her a question: "So let me ask you," I said. "When did you choose to be attracted to men?" The point -- a point my prof also made in my class this summer -- is that we live in a world where a lot of people are really ridiculously concerned about the origins of homosexuality (and for what?). There are brain scan studies, my prof said, to try to find out what makes gay people gay. "But where are the straight people brain scans?" she asked. Something else to think about.

3. Communication: I've quoted it before, but I'll quote it again: “Assumptions are the termites of relationships.” (Courtesy of Henry Winkler [yes, the Fonz!]) This, as we discussed in class, is a truth that is easily applied to every facet of every relationship -- even sex! Take the fake orgasm, for example. Let's say sex is a pain (literally) for a wife, but she fakes it for the sake of her husband's ego. Her response -- which is a lie, as Dr. Dae pointed out in class -- makes him think he's doing it right. So time after time, he's gonna keep doing it. Something to TALK about.

4. Intersex: In class, we watched a documentary on intersexual people -- that is, people who are born with ambiguous genitals or reproductive organs. The film focused on several Americans who are intersexed as well as some in the Dominican Republic. Something that stuck out from the film is the fact that the Americans -- whose parents often decided to pick boy or girl upon the child's birth, permitting a doctor to surgically turn ambiguous genitals into the genitals of the parents' choice -- often end up with long term psychological stress, whereas the ones in the Dominican Republic -- where people who are intersexed are accepted as they are -- grow up with little or none of that. What does that say about our cultures? To watch the documentary, click here. (And when that video ends, look for parts 2 and 3 along the side.)

5. Abstinence only education v. comprehensive sex ed: As a proponent and practice-er of abstinence before marriage, I enjoyed our discussions about abstinence only education versus comprehensive sex education. I don't have the statistics in front of me, but it's clear that abstinence only education doesn't accomplish what its proponents wish it would. I haven't seen stats on comprehensive sex ed, and until I do more of my own research, I can't come to a definitive conclusion. I can, however, say this: learning about what actually goes on in bodies when a couple is getting it on didn't make me want to forsake my pledge to save sex for marriage. Then again, I'm a 25-year-old and my brain is really close to fully developed, if not entirely fully developed. So I'm not sure if teens -- whose brains still have some growing to do -- would change their minds after comprehensive sex ed if before they learned a lot about sex, they'd planned to save it.

Man Without a Facebook

2011-07-27T20:26:00.001-07:00

Integrity.

2011-07-26T20:07:00.000-07:00

in·teg·ri·ty

noun/inˈtegritē/

The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness.

That's how the dictionary defines integrity. But whenever it comes up in conversation, I tend to define it like this:

A person who has integrity lives his or her life like everything he or she ever does and says will be dug up by a good newspaper reporter, unexpectedly. He or she simply doesn't do or say anything that he or she would not be able to explain -- NAY -- defend if the thing done or said were, in fact, exposed. He or she doesn't do or say things privately that are inconsistent with his or her public image. He or she doesn't misrepresent him or herself.

Most of the women and men who choose otherwise won't be discovered, ever. What they've said and done won't show up in the paper. If their lies, for instance, are uncovered by someone, I bet it's even more likely that that person will call them out for it privately, or in a sector so small that their being called out for it won't rip the rug of their lives out from under them. But that isn't the point.

I don't suggest living like a reporter will dig up our dirt so we sound good if a reporter actually writes about us. I suggest it because when we are in-authentic, in-credible and dishonest, we do a deeper disservice to our families, our friends and ourselves than a single story in the paper could convey. And for the flippin' love of Pete, it's the right thing to do. In the long run, we live life the hard way when we decide to manipulate our worlds so we can do whatever we want while we appear to be doing something completely different. We damage our families and friends if we're discovered, and we damage them if we're not (because how true is your love if nobody knows the person from whom it is given?).

My clutter free failure.

2011-07-20T13:24:00.000-07:00

So in December of 2010, I decided 2011 would be my clutter free year.

Solely for the sake of full disclosure, I finally have an update: it has been a clutter free failure. I'd planned to declutter on a daily basis, to keep my room as tidy as it was the day I took the photos in the original post. The reasons for the experiment? "To delay gratification. To prioritize. To manage my time. To be patient. Pulling it off means severing all ties to spending tons of time hanging up laundry that's been clean for weeks. It means I won't have to spend the first few hours of a study day cleaning so I can focus. It means I won't trip over shoes when I wake up in the morning."

And I -- queen of quitting stuff for good causes and without trouble (like the time I didn't eat sugar for a year, and all my years lived sans social media) -- never thought I couldn't pull it off.

But I can't pull this off, and I had to get that off my chest. I have, however, learned a few things:

1. I'm a far quicker room cleaner than I used to be. If I let my stuff pile up -- and Lordy, I do -- I've discovered that I can declutter with an entirely new rapidity. I have no real explanation for this other than miracles and/or the fact that I've finally accepted that I have a schedule that doesn't allow for wasting time.

2. I declutter far more often than in years past. I now declutter once a week (as opposed to only when absolutely necessary and with the exceptions of during midterms and finals week), which is probably more reasonable for me considering my schedule. (I spend eight hours a week driving, for instance -- and that only includes to and from work and school!)

3. I have room to improve. I'm a far cry more organized and better at managing my time now than ever before. But there's still room for improvement. I have some ideas a-brewin'. Stay tuned.

A Murderer and a Mother

2011-07-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

For awhile, an 11-year-old girl named Maria repeatedly rejected the sexual advances of a man who worked on her family's farm. The man repeatedly refused to respect her rejection. And there came a day -- July 5, a hundred and nine years ago -- on which the man wouldn't take no for answer. He tried to rape Maria.

Maria shouted for him to stop, and not so she'd be protected from him, but so he'd be protected from the sin he'd commit in rape. Angry at her response, he stabbed her fourteen times. On July 6, her wounds would prove fatal but before she died, she spent a day praying for the man, saying she forgives him and hoping she'd someday see him in heaven. Then, she died.

The man spent about thirty years in prison. While there, Maria appeared to him to tell him she forgives him. When he was released from prison, he visited Maria's mother's house. When she answered the door, he asked for her forgiveness. She said she'd already forgiven him.

This is where healing starts.

Several years later, in 1950, the man and Maria's mother went to Rome to attend a ceremony together the day Pope Pius XXI canonized her. Ever since, she has been St. Maria Goretti. Today (July 6) is her feast day.

3 Ways Life is Like a Highway

2011-06-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

On my way to work this morning, while stuck behind a red minivan whose driver drives too slowly for my taste, I came to the realization that for at least three reasons, life is like a highway.

1. It's complicated. Groups (like families, office staffs, etc.) and roadways both are complicated systems. Every person within these always-moving systems is a unique conglomeration of the following: behaviors and communication styles learned in his or her family of origin, expectations fostered by the environments in which he or she grew up, the presence of certain skills and abilities and the absence of certain skills and abilities.

To that, add the person's locus of control (if it's internal, he or she believes his or her own behaviors determine the things he or she experiences; if it's external, he or she believes the things he or she experiences are determined by other people's behaviors.). Then add attribution theory (the idea that people live like when something bad happens to me, it's because of my circumstances and when something bad happens to somebody else, it's because there's something wrong with that person). Plus pathology (mood disorders, anxiety disorders, personality disorders, psychotic disorders, etc.).

Then, (as if it's not overwhelming enough to know that every single person by whom we're surrounded in groups and on roads is just ONE of those unique conglomerations) add the fact that we are often egocentric -- that is, we tend to assume that everybody else is the same kind of conglomeration we are (i.e. the time I was 15 and in English class and my teacher mentioned the turkey she planned to prepare for Christmas dinner. I said, "Um...you eat turkey on Christmas?" and she and all my classmates said, "Pretty much everyone does." Until she shattered my egocentric view of Christmas dinner, I assumed all Americans, like my family, eat Italian food on Christmas.).

Now, strap yourself to a bunch of people who know nothing about your conglomeration and about whose conglomerations you know nothing, either. That's life. Often, you're surrounded by people you don't get (and who don't get you). You don't meet each others expectations, nor can you empathize with eachother about it. This can be chaos, but it happens when your family merges with another in marriage, or when you work in an office, eat at a restaurant, stand on a line or stop and go in stop-and-go traffic.

2. You will be wronged. Injustice is inevitable in life and on the road. You try to communicate, and somebody doesn't pick up what you're putting down. Others pretend not to hear what you're saying -- whether you're speaking it in words or in gestures -- in favor of passive aggression. When you don't try to communicate, people read into what you aren't even saying. People do things that directly, negatively impact us and don't notice. Other people do things that directly, negatively impact us, are entirely aware of it and don't care at all about how it affects us. And we often do one or both of the same to other people.

It's because of our conglomerations. It's like when a wife expects her husband to do XYZ even though she's never expressed "I would like you to do XYZ." She speaks in code (or doesn't speak about it at all) and gets angry or hurt when he doesn't do what she wants. It's also like when we assume we know other people's codes (when the wife loudly bangs together the pots and pans she's washing in the sink and while she only does that because the sink is small and for no other reason, the husband becomes anxious because he assumes she's banging the pots and pans because she's mad at him). The problems with this are a) we don't know each other's codes because b) we don't know each other's conglomerations and c) as egocentric people, we subconsiously assume that we do. In the wife's family of origin, husbands knew to do XYZ without being told. But in her husband's family of origin, no man ever did XYZ unless a woman asked. And in her husband's family of origin, if dish-washing was loud, it meant his mother was angry. But no one in his wife's family of origin ever took out anger on cookware.

3. You have choices. While you drive, and you're -- say -- stuck behind a red minivan whose driver drives too slowly for your taste, you have choices. You can flail your arms at them like a madman or -woman (if you're willing to take a gamble that the driver is not the kind who grew up where, when somebody flails their arms at other drivers, they flail shot guns in response). You can tailgate. You can call your friends and complain about it. You can slow to a safe speed and wait until there's room to pass (and you can accept it if sharing the road with this person turns out to mean you don't always get to drive as fast as you're comfortable).

Being on a highway (or in a world) where everybody experiences everything in an entirely unique way means everybody has to adapt. Period. It's unreasonable to expect everyone else in the system to see and do things the way you do. Expecting that is expecting the system to revolve around and cater to you. Sometimes, we get to do what we want without incident. Other times, nothing works out the way we'd choose. And if a person keeps up unreasonable expectations, he or she can expect to perpetuate the parts of this process that piss most of us off. But approach it with flexibility, and you might just prevent us from reliving those parts over and over again.

Stress.

2011-05-31T09:52:00.000-07:00

Five years ago, desperate to escape the stress and depression that plagued me, I sent a short email to my friend Jeremy. I hoped his response would help me find some freedom.

"How do you handle stress?"

Here's what he wrote back:

"I look at this: http://www.solarviews.com/raw/earth/earthafr.jpg"

I think we all have something to learn from Jeremy.

Incompatible.

2011-05-20T08:48:00.000-07:00

"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it," Jesus said. "But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it."

- - - -

If you've had some conversations with some Christians, you've probably heard somebody say we are in the world and not of it.

And we are. If you follow the teachings of Jesus Christ, usually you'll feel like an expat. By default, you can't fit in completely. Hold your choices up to the general public's choices and yours will stand out, always as unusual, often as ridiculous.

So I'm concerned lately by how hard we try to take the world and create of it a place where the way we live makes sense.

Where we won't feel like expats. Where we'll fit in completely. Where our choices are typical. We latch onto an issue -- abortion, for example -- and we expend a heck of a lot of our energy trying to get the world to do what we want it to do.

We picket, for instance, in hopes that laws will change so other people won't do the things we won't do. We think "This is us, standing out the way we should!" when what we're really doing is trying to make not being like us illegal, which would mean we'll finally fit in, at least among law abiding citizens (which would make life a lot easier). And in the process, we put far less energy into being who we're supposed to be -- good examples, unconditional lovers and all the other things we don't have time to be while we're making our signs.

We keep saying "we're in the world, not of it!" while trying to change the world so it's safe for us to be of it. We've got to let that go.

Everything of the world is designed to keep us from doing what we should. And I'm not saying one distracts you from the other (although it does), but that the act of doing A makes it an impossibility that you could do B, even if you wanted. A and B will always be incompatible.

You cannot love and lust at the same time.
You cannot trust God and pitch a fit when you don't get your way.
You cannot serve God and money.

We already know the world will never be what we want it to be. It'll never be what we need it to be for following Christ in it to be easy.

So yeah. It's true. The world won't cater to us.

Get over it!

The rapture.

2011-05-20T08:19:00.000-07:00

Oh, btw: according to Harold Camping, the rapture's happening Saturday and the world's gonna end in October.

PANIC!

Or, read this awesome blog by Jason Boyett.

See you Sunday!*

* I don't believe in the rapture, and I think that means I don't get to participate.

Rats and roaches.

2011-05-20T08:06:00.001-07:00

"Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy." - Wendell Berry

$10,000.

2011-05-06T21:36:00.000-07:00

In Thursday's newspaper, I read a story about a guy named Enock.

He's 20 and a high school graduate who wants to be a pharmacist. But without a lung transplant, he's dying. The story, written by a couple of my colleagues, explained that while people need transplants, they're on waiting lists but until they have enough money to afford after-care, they can't get a spot on the waiting list.

It takes money to take care of a new organ, to take anti-rejection drugs for the rest of your life. It was determined that to make that happen, Enock's family needed $10,000.

Yesterday, the general public blew my mind, because by Thursday night -- the same day Enock's story appeared in the paper -- his name was added to the waiting list. His family hadn't been given $10,000, though.

It had been given $40,000. In a day.

People, who are part of the same general public that disappoints on a daily basis, pooled their resources. Lots gave a little that, when added together, is the probably the biggest favor anyone could do for Enock.

That's life. And that's love.

To read the story that printed Thursday, click here.

To read the story that printed Friday -- about all the donations -- click here.

SUMMER BREAK.

2011-05-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

As of last night, I am on summer break.

If you're picturing two school-free months, beach vacations, frolicking in fields of wild flowers...stop. This is not that kind of break. I'll still work. I'll still write. But I will enjoy as much as I can of the 12 days, 6 hours and 41 minutes left before summer classes start.

I have needed a break. But don't get me wrong: I absolutely love grad school. I'm working on my MA in rehabilitation and mental health counseling. It's CRAZY (no pun intended). I've learned a lot. Grad school has changed me, in some ways I hope are permanent, in some ways I hope are temporary and in one that just needs to be tweaked.

Things that I hope are permanent:

I am far more organized. I'd be lying if I said all my important papers are filed in date order, alphabetically by category, beginning with "airline ticket confirmations" and ending with"Verizon bills." But I'd also be lying if I said "Get a filing cabinet." isn't written on my to-do list so I can do just that. The workload deems it both necessary and common-sensical to, at least, keep a to-do list. And that's far more organized than my ways pre-grad school.
I am far less likely to procrastinate. Do I ever choose to eat one of everything in the fridge when what I really need to do is study? Of course. Who doesn't? But thanks to grad school, I more often find it worthwhile to do what I have to do now and what I want to do later. I have the willpower to turn off the TV (with the exception of the time I stumbled upon an unexpected Sister Wives marathon.). I no longer can stand to deny my responsibilities the attention they require.
I am a little more self aware. When all your professors are mental health counselors or psychologists, it happens. They pick up what you don't even know you put down. And when you'd like them to -- or, say, when you're the client in an in-class counseling role play and the professor observes the student counselor and then adds his or her two cents -- they tell you about it.
I am more compassionate and empathetic. Compassion and empathy came pretty naturally long before grad school (You're reading the blog of a woman who's found reasons to weep during an episode of COPS.), but because of what I've learned in school, the scope of when I can feel compassion is broader. I'm less likely to lose my patience with crazy callers at work (with a small segment of them, anyway) because I find it easier now to remember that the person on the line is, in fact, a person and one for whom "the desire to ruin Arleen's day" is not what underlies his or her reasons for calling, 99% of the time.

Things that I hope are temporary:

I cannot justify talking on the phone when I'm at home. Gone are the days in which I regularly receive or make calls when I'm at home. There are, of course, exceptions: If a friend has an acute need to vent, if the phone call is scheduled in advance (Is that sad, or is that sad?), if plans to meet up need to be made or if somebody happens to call when I happen to have nothing to do. Otherwise, I purposefully stay as far away from my phone as I can while I'm home (but I check it now and then, just in case). I don't think phone calls with friends will ever be quite what they were when we were ages 7 through 18 (frequent, long and blissfully rambling) -- and how can they be, what, with our jobs and our educations and our marriages and our kids? -- but I do hope to someday again have the time to communicate in ways that aren't scheduled or email.
My social circle is shrinking. In fact, it's not even a circle anymore. There's no name for the shape of it now that I'm in grad school. (Although my decisions to quit Facebook and Twitter shrunk it more than grad school has, for the record.) The friends I have are fabulous, of course, and I still aim for something social once a week. But there are so many people with whom I used to spend time and with whom, I've lost touch. Plus, I've never liked "going out" (Do I look like someone you'd see at da club? I don't think so.), but I officially almost never go anywhere where I could meet new people.
There can be no spontaneity. No, I cannot meet you at [insert name of coffee shop, restaurant, theme park, farm, mall] at [insert any time that occurs less than several days after your invitation]. As much as I miss the ability to get up and go where I want to go whenever I want to go there, I can rarely make it happen. There is always something to read or write and (thanks to my new organizational skills and aversion to procrastination) if I haven't had [insert event here] on my calendar for awhile, I probably didn't work ahead in a way that allows me to take that break. Someday, spontaneity and I will get along again. In the meantime, I appreciate my patient friends!
I can't read on a couch or in bed without falling asleep. It's uncanny. And an unending cycle of doom. Can't a girl read fourteen pages about self psychology without falling asleep? Well, yes. Just not on a couch or in a bed, or what happens is I read the line about how Heinz Kohut spend most of his career at a psychoanalysis institute in Chicago, sleep for fifteen minutes, read it again and repeat. It takes all day. And I hope it ends after grad school.

The thing that needs to be tweaked:

I'm generally disgruntled. But if we tweak that, what I am is a visionary -- a dreamer, if you will. The reality is that every time I leave my house, I lose a little more faith in humanity. But if you spin it another way, I, see the world through a lens that pinpoints all the ways in which the general public has... potential. If everybody made an effort to be a little more aware (whether self aware or aware of what goes on around us), the world would be a little better for it. And I'm aware of that, thanks to grad school.

Osama bin Laden is dead.

2011-05-03T06:04:00.000-07:00

But I won't celebrate.

"Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." — MLK, Jr.

- - -

This post has been updated since its original appearance.

Driving.

2011-04-30T06:57:00.000-07:00

I live 20 miles from work, 40 miles from school and more than 40 miles from any good beach.

So I do a lot of driving. And for years, I've driven the same car: the Spence Mobile if you knew me high school, the Motha Ship, if you knew me in college.

I used to think there is something about the deep cranberry pearl color of my car that made it difficult for other drivers to see. Why else, I thought, would drivers try to change lanes while my car's in the way, or not stop when my car is clearly not moving at all in front of them?

I've learned, however, that it isn't the color of my car that causes the near misses and the fender benders. It's the way we (Americans, maybe humans) drive (as well as live). And since honking the horn and flailing my arms around about it at other drivers doesn't really work, I wrote this column:

Distracted driving puts all of us at risk on U.S. 19 and beyond

Online now, in print Sunday, May 1, 2011. I hope you enjoy it.

"Never abandon your brother."

2011-04-27T18:44:00.000-07:00

From behind the podium on a small stage in Fox Hall at Eckerd College, David Kaczynski spoke on Monday night. He is executive director of New Yorkers for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. He is also the Unabomber's brother. If you ever have a chance to hear him speak, take it.

Part of his talk is about his opposition to the death penalty (and as somebody who is also opposed to it, that's the reason I went to see him). But in the other part, he talks a lot about his brother.

Be warned: there's no way what I write will do it justice.

But when Ted Kaczynski, a.k.a. the Unabomber, was arrested, I was 10. All I remember is the police artist's sketch of the suspect and the footage of Ted's arrest. Back then, I didn't know how many bombings there were. I didn't know he had been hunted since 1978. I didn't know how many people his bombs had killed and injured. I only knew a "monster" had been caught.

David only knew a brother. So when his wife brought it up -- "Please don't be angry with me for saying this," she said. "But do you think your brother might be the Unabomber?" -- it seemed unfathomable. But the couple put two and two together. With their hunch, David and his wife approached the FBI.

The guy whose bombs killed three and injured more than 20 is the kid who grew up without friends. He's the genius who finished high school at 15 and went right to Harvard. He is the big brother who created a low handle on the screen door so three-year-old David, otherwise too short to work the door, could get into the house from the backyard.

While they were kids, David asked his parents why his brother had no friends. Why his brother was different. Everyone's different, they told him. And no matter what, his mom added, "Never abandon your brother."

You can tell when you hear David speak that he hasn't.

He gives reasons for his opposition to the death penalty: The fallibility of the people who pick who gets executed means innocent people get executed. The disparity in who gets the death penalty (It's not the worst of the worst criminals; it's the people with the worst legal representation, he said.). The extraordinary cost. The fact that a lot of people on death row have been diagnosed with severe mental illnesses (mental illnesses that were present at the time of the crime) -- people who need help and don't get it on death row.

He explains the reality of his brother's mental illness (schizophrenia). The shock and trauma of suspecting and finding out the Unabomber is his brother.

He restores the humanity that has been robbed of a man, not a monster, named Ted.

I found it all deeply moving.

Listen to Your Heart

2011-04-25T08:45:00.000-07:00

Last night, while I watched TV, I clenched my fists. I groaned. I buried my face in my hands and shook my head. In what had been, up to a point, a lovely little love story, somebody delivered some unexpected bad news to a guy on the screen.

"COME ON." I said. "I can't watch this. It's too sad."

So, I grabbed the remote. But LMN cut to a commercial. When the movie, called Listen to Your Heart, came back, I convinced myself to keep watching. And I'm glad I did.

It goes like this: Danny is a server-by-day, musician-by-night who falls fast for a girl whose table he waits at the restaurant where he works. When he meets her, he doesn't a) realize she's deaf, b) know how anti-him her mom is or c) expect the bad news that almost made me change the channel.

In other words, he's bombarded by circumstances that inevitably lead to a heck of a lot of suffering.

How often in real life we avoid things if they might make us suffer. How often we refuse to go for it if it might hurt. (Like when we won't dump someone when we should. Or won't take a job that's a challenge. Or change the channel because a movie is making us cry.)

How can we grow without pain?

In the movie, Danny doesn't let what might happen dictate what he does and doesn't do. He doesn't avoid the things that might make him suffer.

Why?

"I'm not gonna miss out on something that could be great just 'cause it might also be hard."

Beautiful. Click here to watch the movie's official trailer and click here to learn more about the film.

What would you do?

2011-04-13T08:24:00.001-07:00

Nicholas Lindsey is a 16-year-old boy.

He is from the Tampa Bay area.

He has parents who love him.

And he is accused of killing a St. Pete police officer earlier this year. What would you do if you were his parents?

http://www.tampabay.com/news/publicsafety/article1163316.ece

The Story of Bob.

2011-04-10T20:21:00.000-07:00

On New Year's Eve in 1997, Bob McIntosh and a couple of friends took a walk from his house to a neighbor's, to break up a loud house party. Inside, Bob met a crowd of more than a hundred rowdy teens. One of them punched him. Another kicked. And on a bedroom floor at the house down the street, Bob died.

Tonight, I watched a movie based on the story of Bob. I await the arrival of my copy of a book written by his widow, Katy Hutchison. Press play below.

For more about the story of Bob, watch this.

Decisions.

2011-04-04T20:32:00.000-07:00

Today I came across an e-book, and a set of videos that accompany it, by a guy named Andy Stanley. It's called Your Move: 4 Questions to Ask When You Don't Know What To Do.

Who hasn't been there?

I can't say it better than Stanley, so I'll let him tell you about the study:

And via an excerpt from the book, I'll also let Stanley share one of the questions he asks -- one I think all of us should ask ourselves more often:

"Here’s the first of the four questions:

Am I being completely honest with myself?

We’re all experts at selling ourselves on whatever we really want to do, whether we should do it or not. We’re all very good at deceiving ourselves, because we feel so compelled to justify our unwise decisions. It’s as if our hearts are wrapped around a certain choice, then they send our brains a message that says, “Quick, find me some reasons for it!” Our brains manufacture the reasons, and then we start believing them.

Why aren’t we more honest with ourselves? Because for the most part, we’re on a quest not for truth, but for happiness. Our hearts cling to whatever choices we think will make us happiest, no matter how unwise they might be.

So, we need to ask ourselves, Why am I doing this . . . really? What’s the real reason for the choice I’m making? We don’t often ask ourselves this because it’s convicting and uncomfortable. There are times we don’t really want to know why we’re making a certain choice."

If you're interested in the study, it and the videos are available for free download here through April 30, 2011.

Choices.

2011-03-31T20:16:00.000-07:00

"I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Romans 7:15

Oh, Paul. How I can relate. It stinks to want to do one thing but to choose, for any of a multitude of reasons, to do something else instead. It is a whole other awful thing to know perfectly well what you should do and choose to do anything but it. (Paul's been there.)

Sometimes, what I do I don't want to do, have time to do or benefit from doing and what I don't do is exactly what I should do. Like when I shop like I don't have a budget. Or when I eat but I'm not hungry. Or when, instead of studying, I pretend my TV remote is a microphone and I perform the Avett Brothers's Live Volume 3 album in its entirety in front of a mirror.

Afterward, I don't say, "Wow. I'm glad I chose that. It really worked out for me."

I say, "I do not understand what I do."

But I do understand that I have choices. And that -- in the words of the Avett Brothers -- we only get so many days.

Choose wisely.

Infidelity.

2011-03-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

In a recent conversation, a friend brought up the prevalence of marital infidelity among professionals whose jobs require long hours or lots of travel.

How, my friend wondered, does a married man or woman avoid the temptation to cheat? How, when there's no time to enjoy his or her personal life
when one basically lives in hotels
when one has very little space
when one spends a lot of time in that little space with a colleague to whom he or she is "fatally" attracted?

My knee-jerk reaction: Um, easily?

My answer: Let's say it's a married man. If the combination of who he is and what a career requires of him really renders him so disatisfied with or detached from his personal life that he becomes attracted to and/or acts on his attraction to anyone who isn't his wife...

he needs a new career.

Why? Because vows are vows. And because love, the choice, the action, is selfless.

Next question: What would you do if your spouse cheated on you?

Would you choose love?

One couple, whose story I happened to come across in the same week I had the aforementioned conversation, did. Take seven minutes to watch the video below. Pay particular attention to what the husband says in the segment from 4:30 to 5:30.

Beautiful. Unique. For every couple affected by infidelity? Not sure... but the single, married, faithful and unfaithful all have a little to learn about love from the Markleys.

Read the Markley couple's story, as written by Sarah, here.

Assumptions.

2011-03-21T14:03:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a relationship in which you could be completely honest?

I don't mean to imply that we're liars, but that sometimes, we speak in code. Or we feel one way while acting like we feel another. We gunnysack all the things that bother us until we don't like the person who does them (or until we explode). We avoid expressing ourselves explicitly because, frankly, we don't want what we want from whom we want it unless we can get it without asking.

And when we don't get what we want, we sincerely cannot believe such a frustrating turn of events. How dare [so-and-so] not do [such-and-such], even after I dropped an almost unending series of extremely vague hints?

If you've been there (and you have. Don't lie!), you know that it is frustrating. And fruitless. It stunts growth. Assumptions don't work where communication is required.

I'll leave it to two famous guys to prove my point:

"The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place." -George Bernard Shaw

and

"Assumptions are the termites of relationships." -Henry Winkler

♫

Good.

2011-03-13T19:39:00.001-07:00

"God doesn't love us because we're good. We are good because God loves us." -Fr. Daniel Francis

Empty.

2011-03-09T06:53:00.000-08:00

Lent is the season of the church that starts on Ash Wednesday (today) and ends on Easter. It's dark and somber. Solemn and quiet. Chock full of scripture, tradition and spiritual discipline.

Sometimes, especially toward the end, Lent is sad.

But I love it.

In an email I got around Ash Wednesday last year, a friend of mine who's a Franciscan friar explained the concept of kenosis. It's the "process of emptying," he wrote, and it's "very common in our Christian spirituality." Especially during Lent.

Most practicing Roman Catholic Christians fast until dinner on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. We don't eat meat on Ash Wednesday, or on any Friday in Lent. We usually make a 40-day sacrifice. Sometimes, it's a sacrifice of time, like volunteering at a food bank, going to mass daily or waking up earlier every day to read the Bible. Other times, it's actually giving up stuff. In past Lents, I've given up chocolate. Bread. CDs. Facebook. Once, I heard about a guy who gave up his bed (so he slept on the floor).

But what people give up is only part of the point. The rest of the point is what happens to you when you deny yourself something. Fewer things means fewer distractions. Time is finite. Attention is finite. The fewer our obligations, the more time and attention we can give to what's left. The more time and attention we give, the higher the quality of it. When we give up stuff, it puts a new perspective on the difference between the words want and need. When we sacrifice, it empties us.

That, the Franciscan friar wrote, is the point.

"In order to let God fill our life, we need to empty it first."

Here's to an empty Lent.

Proof.

2011-02-14T20:08:00.000-08:00

We don't live in a "first things first" culture. We procrastinate.

Procrastination is using the pursuit of one thing to justify our neglect of another. It's distraction. It goes deeper than the "TV now, study later" life. Way deeper. Subconscious deep.

Have you ever heard a pastor or a priest say that meeting a good guy or girl won't solve your problems? Or that your dream job won't fill the void. Or that money won't make you happy.

He's right. Few think he isn't. Very few consciously pursue those things to solve problems. I'd even say lots don't pursue them for those reasons, even subconsciously. But some, I'd say, do subconsiously pursue them... for proof.

If I had a successful relationship...

If I got the job...

If I made X amount of money...

I'd have proof that there is no problem. That there is no void. That "I'm happy."

But it doesn't usually work like that. If you get what you pursue, you find you have it plus a problem. It plus a void.

We know what distracts us. We usually know it well. But do we know it's a distraction? Do we know from what it distracts us?

Twenty minutes: Wholehearted.

2011-01-27T09:10:00.000-08:00

I couldn't do it justice if I tried, so I won't describe this video. But I will implore you to take 20 minutes out of your day to watch or listen to it. Worth it. Trust me. Fabulous. Thanks to Rhett Smith for posting it on his blog this morning.

If you're reading this on a blog reader and you don't see a video above this line, click the title of the post and see it at my blog.

"Tonight."

2011-01-26T16:01:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, on my way to a church in Tampa, I decided I'd listen to America's top songs for the week on the radio. I don't like to admit it, but I'm a semi-closeted sucker for pop music and shows like Ryan Seacrest's are how I find new songs. But while I drove, I didn't discover my next embarassing mp3 purchase. Instead, I heard an interview with Enrique Iglesias after Seacrest played the vocalist's new song "Tonight." The chorus goes like this:

Here's the situation / Been to every nation / Nobody’s ever made me feel the way that you do / You know my motivation / Given my reputation / Please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude / But tonight I'm loving you.

I have long had little to no reason to assume my value system meshes with that of any of today's pop song writers, so I was pretty sure "tonight I'm loving you" was pretty edited. In Seacrest's interview with Iglesias, I learned I was right. In the explicit version of the song, "tonight I'm loving you" is "tonight I'm f***ing you." Seacrest explored the effects of the song's shock value with Iglesias. He asked what the vocalist's family thinks of it. His grandma sings it around the house, he said. And his college-aged little sisters love it, and he's fine with that, he said, but on one condition.

"As long as no guys sing it to them."

While he's pretty clearly crackin' a joke, I am sure -- as the sister of my own brother -- he's only half kidding. And since I don't know Enrique, I also don't know how likely he actually is to go up to a new girl to say something like "By the way, I'll be f***ing you tonight." What I do know is that the song, like lots you'll hear on the radio, wraps a destructive message in a pop package. It permits the practice of lust which, in the words of Jason Evert, "can't wait to get" while "love can wait to give." And these songs, through speakers and ear buds, are delivered directly to a generation whose culture cares far more about making a profit than it does about a person's wellbeing. And the things done and said to get us to spend our money are so embedded in our culture that we see right past the ploy and buy into it.

This is why women buy tickets to see rappers like Eminem despite lyrics like "If she ever tries to f***ing leave again, I'ma tie her to the bed and set the house on fire." It's why there are more guys who objectify women than there are people who set them straight. It's why Enrique Iglesias, whether for real or solely in a song for profit, can sing a song that says "please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude" for treating a woman like she's a penis receptacle, and then say other guys better not do it to his sisters.

It is rude. And there is no excuse.

Forgiveness.

2011-01-19T14:09:00.000-08:00

Over winter break, I watched a movie called Amish Grace for the third time. And for the third time, I wept while I watched it.

This is partly because it's a Lifetime movie and I cry during appx. 55% of Lifetime movies. (Don't judge me.) But it's mostly because it's based on a book I finished reading last week that is based on a true story that moves most of the people who hear it.

On the morning of Oct. 2, 2006, a 32-year-old man named Charles Carl Roberts IV backed a pickup truck up to the front of an Amish schoolhouse in Nickel Mines, Penn. Inside, the book says, students said the Lord's Prayer and sang songs before their teacher taught them. Roberts, who the students likely recognized as a local, non-Amish milk truck driver, went in with a plan and a set of guns. Out of veangence toward God for a death in his family, he shot 10 students. Then he shot himself. He and five girls died.

News of the tragedy spread quickly. The world grieved with the Amish and wondered how anyone dared violently intrude on the peculiar world of a peaceful people. In the hours after "the Happening," which is what the Amish people in Nickel Mines call the shooting, law enforcement officers investigated. Journalists reported. Five girls fought for life in hospitals. While it went on, some Amish people paid a visit to the house nearby where Roberts had lived, to have a word with his widow and parents.

They could have started a shouting match and threatened revenge, insulted the shooter's name or spit in the faces of his family. They could have, but they didn't. They expressed forgiveness for Roberts and sympathy for his family's loss. A few days later, they -- including parents of some of the girls who died -- went to his funeral.

The authors of Amish Grace explored the Amish community's countercultural ability to forgive. They dissected the mercy in effort to detect whether it's possible or just an act. It, they discovered, is possible. And in Amish culture, it isn't uncommon.

One of many stories that prove it in the book is about a 17-year-old, non-Amish boy in the 1990s. He, who lived in Lancaster County, Penn., sped up a hill on a quiet road in a fast car. When he came over the top of the hill, he came upon a horse and buggy, occupied by a young, newlywed Amish couple coming home from their honeymoon. The boy decided to pass the buggy rather than slam on his brakes. And as he began to barrel by it in the lane beside it, the buggy turned in front of him. When it and his car collided, the woman in the buggy died.

Days after the accident, the woman's family asked the boy to come to their home for the woman's wake. He did. What happened that day and afterward is unheard of almost anywhere else. The woman's family, including her widower, hugged him and forgave him. They cried together. Then, they kept in touch. In each year after, they shared meals and conversation. The boy became a man who got married. When he did, members of the Amish family were guests at his wedding. The man helped his Amish friends when they needed it. The Amish helped fund a mission trip the man took with his wife. To this day, the families are close.

This, in the same United States where we hold a grudge against the guy in line in front of us if he pays for his food with a check. Where blood boils all day because the person who delivers our newspaper didn't show up. Where "if only we knew where the guy lived" who put the ding in our driver's side door. Where we berate and belittle servers in restaurants when what we get isn't what we ordered.

Forgiveness, wrote the authors of Amish Grace, is "deeply woven into the fabric of Amish life" and "inspiring as it is, is not easily transferable to other people in other situations ... How does one imitate a habit that's embedded in a way of life anchored in a five-hundred-year history?"

I don't have the answer. But forgiveness, once said Martin Luther King, Jr., is "not an occasional act. It is a permanent attitude."

It is an attitude I want to see us adopt. To learn more about the book Amish Grace, click here.

"Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior"

2011-01-12T17:03:00.000-08:00

According to Yale Law professor Amy Chua, Chinese mothers are superior to western ones.

"A lot of people wonder how Chinese parents raise such stereotypically successful kids," she said in an essay that appeared in Saturday's Wall Street Journal. "They wonder what these parents do to produce so many math whizzes and music prodigies, what it's like inside the family, and whether they could do it too. Well, I can tell them, because I've done it. Here are some things my daughters, Sophia and Louisa, were never allowed to do:

• attend a sleepover

• have a playdate

• be in a school play

• complain about not being in a school play

• watch TV or play computer games

• choose their own extracurricular activities

• get any grade less than an A

• not be the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama

• play any instrument other than the piano or violin

• not play the piano or violin."

In the essay, an excerpt from her new book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Chua uses the phrase "Chinese mothers" loosely. She'd say the way of a "strict" western parent pales in comparison to the strictness of authoritarian Chinese mothers who, for the record, aren't necessarily from China. In the west, she said, parents are obsessed with self esteem. They assume their children are fragile. Chinese mothers, she said, assume their children are strong. In effort to assure that her children are the best and that they grow up to be people like Yale Law professors, a Chinese mother demands perfection via "rote repition," hours of practicing musical instruments and hours of practice academic tests. Additionally, Chua says that in the process, Chinese parents can get away with what western ones can't. A Chinese mother, for instance, can call her kid a fatty if he or she is overweight. She can call her daughter garbage if the kid disrespects her at a dinner party and she can revoke her daughter's right to get up from the piano bench to go to the bathroom until the song she's practicing is perfect (true stories!).

Some of the things Chua said make me cringe. And some of the things that make me cringe also make sense (which is alarming).

I'm neither Chinese, nor a mother, but I can say with certainty that I wouldn't call a kid garbage or fatty. I wouldn't withhold a kid's right to go to the bathroom. But for her kids, it works. It also worked for Chua, and without any lasting emotional scars or mental illnesses (so she says).

Last night, I finished reading the book Amish Grace (this will be relevant shortly). It's about the shooting at that Amish schoolhouse in Pennsylvania in 2006. Hours after the shooting, people from the Amish community visted the wife and parents of the shooter (who killed himself after he shot 10 Amish girls, half of whom died). They expressed forgiveness for what the shooter had done and offered sympathy for his family's loss. Later that week, several Amish people went to the shooter's funeral, including some of the parents of girls who died. The media bombarded the public with the story of grace and for the most part, it moved people all over the country. When approached by the media, the Amish people were taken aback that the non-Amish were taken aback by something so average in Amish culture. Forgiveness is a given. There is no grudge. The writers of the book, who are experts in Amish culture, delved more deeply into what happened, and they warn: "...the fact that forgiveness is so deeply woven into the fabric of Amish life should alert us that their example, inspiring as it is, is not easily transferable to other people in other situations. Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but how does one imitate a habit that's embedded in a way of life anchored in a five-hundred-year history?"

There is a lot embedded in Amish life, like no TV and no driving and no mall shopping trips. These are rules, for lack of a better term, that if imposed upon non-Amish American kids would provoke an unending series of temper tantrums. But an Amish kid would never respond that way.

I think the "Chinese motherhood" Chua writes about is embedded in that culture in the same way forgiveness and no TV are embedded in Amish culture. As a result, if you live in that culture, or if that culture is lived in your house and family, an Amish kid doesn't have a tantrum because he or she can't watch TV. You may not be emotionally scarred if your mom calls you garbage in Chua's culture (although I'd like to see some studies on the mental health of adults who grew up with "Chinese mothers"). But even though thanks to the culture in which I grew up part of me wants to fight Chua on behalf of her kids, I'm compelled to partly defend her because westerners really are obsessed with self esteem, and to a fault.

My favorite quote from Chua's essay is as follows:

"What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you're good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences."

When you live in a culture where everybody gets a trophy, including the kids on a losing team, you learn to expect rewards regardless of how good you are at what you do. You learn not to work harder (it's still fun when you aren't good at something but you get a trophy for it anyway). You believe you must enjoy everything you do, including all the things you have to do between high school and meeting goals like getting your dream job. And then you become an adult who doesn't want to do anything.

The western assumption of fragility over strength is probably what causes western kids to be so fragile. In fact, in the human growth and development class I took a year ago, I learned that if you shield infants and kids from stressful experiences, the part of the brain that buffers stress won't fully develop and the kid won't have the ability to cope with stress for the rest of his or her life.

But is causing stress in the life of your kid the right way to prevent that? I have a hunch that it isn't.

I also have a hunch that there are plenty of Yale Law professors who didn't grow up with "Chinese mothers."

To read Chua's story in full, click here. (And thanks to Alex for bringing it to my attention!)

The girl can sing.

2011-01-07T07:08:00.000-08:00

I'd like to tell you a little about a girl named Talina.

Talina is 12 years old, beautiful and bright. A student, sister, daughter. A musician, a vocalist.

The girl can sing.

I don't say it just because she's my cousin. She's performed across the country and on TV and in the presence of people like Ryan Seacrest. She performs next week at Carnegie Hall in Manhattan.

I am so proud of her. And I am moved by what she proves.

Talina has autism. Don't ever ignore a person's abilities because he or she has a "disability."

Sing it:

Books worth reading.

2011-01-02T07:56:00.000-08:00

From what I hear, a pretty popular new year's resolution is "read more."

And I like it. In fact, I'd make it if I believed I had the time to read for leisure. The truth is, I probably do, or will, now that I won't have to regularly re-declutter or be distracted by a closet that spews its stuff across my room (It's my clutter free year!).

But for anybody interested in some non-fiction books worth reading, I thought I'd share the literal few I have most recently read in full. I got something important out of each and you may get something good out of them, too.

1. The Church of Facebook: How the Hyperconnected Are Redefining Community by Jesse Rice

I found this book at Border's and bought it though I'd never heard of it. Best impulse buy ever. For the first time in book form, somebody agreed with me re: social media. Jesse Rice, who is a writer and musician and has a master's degree in counseling psychology, shares my sentiments (almost entirely, except for the fact that he still uses social media). In the book, he communicates those sentiments in the words and ways I've been trying to find for years. According to the back of the book, "while personal profiles are revealing, they hint at even larger truths. They uncover our desire for identity, our craving to be known, and our need to belong. ... Join Jesse as he explores social networking and its impact on culture and the church. Filled with fresh perspectives and provocative questions, The Church of Facebook encourages us to pursue authentic relationships with God and those around us."

An excerpt from pages 142-144:

"First, being always-on reinforces the belief that an invisible entourage follows us wherever we go. Our nonstop connectivity ensures we are always within reach of someone, at least technically, and at least in a way that might cause us to act differently than we would if we knew no one was watching. ... the more we believe we have an audience, the more likely our behavior will reflect that belief. We will live in response to a thousand imagined voices, rather than in response to our own hearts.

The cultivation of a healthy self-concept is being subtly undermined by the tendency toward always-on behavior. ... The new phone is enabling parents and children to be in touch with one another, but it can prevent the child from having to face certain difficult tasks on their own. 'With the on-tap parent,' Turkle observes, 'tethered children think differently about their own responsibilities and capacities.' ... Likewise, when a young person jumps on Facebook ... they are newly connected to a vast and growing network of 'others' from whom they can receive guidance, comfort, and camaraderie. While this is often a positive experience ... it can also be potentially harmful. Young people can come to so fully depend on the advice and opinions of others -- including parents -- that they become stunted in their ability to navigate life on their own."

2. Sex God: Exploring the Endless Connections Between Sexuality and Spirituality by Rob Bell

I bought this book upon my friend Amanda's suggestion -- for somebody who wants to write about relationships and chastity, she said, it is a must-read. I'll go ahead and add that for anyone who cares about relationships and chastity, it is also a must-read. I'd heard good things about the book for awhile, but until Amanda suggested it, I'd avoided it. And that's because when I first flipped through it at a bookstore, it looked a little non-traditional, as far as books go, with lots of one- and two-line paragraphs throughout. I thought I'd find it too abrupt to want to read, but as it turns out, I'll probably never judge a book by it's one- and two-line paragraphs again. The book is so good.

An excerpt from pages 52-53:

"There's a passage in the book of First Corinthians where one of the writers of the Bible addresses this worldview. He confronts his audience with a challenge: Can they live for a higher purpose than just fulfilling their urges? He then claims that their bodies are 'temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God.'

This is provocative language. A temple was a holy place, a place where the gods lived, a place where heaven and earth met. The writer specifically uses this image to challenge them with the idea that a human isn't just a collection of urges and needs but is a being whom God resides in. He's trying to elevate their thinking, to change their perspective, to open their eyes to a higher view of what it means to be a human. He's asking them to consider that there's more to life than the next fix."

3. Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy's Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back by Todd Burpo and Lynn Vincent

I unwrapped this book on Christmas Eve: a gift from my mom. I hadn't heard of it. I read the first few chapters in bed that night, and I read the rest of the entire book while we all relaxed on Christmas Day. I could not stop reading it. The book is the true story of Colton Burpo, a then 3-year-old boy who, after recovering from an emergency surgery, says angels sang to him at the hospital. A little at a time after that, Colton continues to innocently reveal what he says happened to him at the hospital. And what his parents at first think might be figments of the boy's imagination start to seem real and miraculous when he begins to bring up up things he shouldn't know. The story itself is amazing, as are the really good points Burpo makes about life and faith throughout.

An excerpt from pages 74-75:

"What is childlike humility? It's not the lack of intelligence, but the lack of guile. The lack of an agenda. It's that precious fleeting time before we have accumulated enough pride or position to care what other people might think. The same un-self-conscious honesty that enables a three-year-old to splash joyfully in a rain puddle, or tumble laughing in the grass with a puppy, or point out loudly that you have a booger hanging out of your nose, is what is required to enter heaven. It is the opposite of ignorance -- it is intellectual honesty: to be willing to accept reality and to call things what they are even when it is hard."

And I'm always interested in book suggestions. Let me know if there are any you'd recommend.

2011's experiment: My Clutter Free Year.

2010-12-29T16:41:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week, I spent an entire day decluttering.

I emptied every cabinet. Dumped every drawer. Dug through everything I own and found some things I don't (Should my old friend Matt Szabo stumble upon this post, I hope he'll accept my sincere apologies for never returning the copy of One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich that I borrowed from him in 2005.).

The tedious task was a repeat. I have been there and done it, over and over again because something somewhere inside me still says what I always said as a kid.

"I hate cleaning my room."

I always did it anyway, of course, but in a matter of days, the fruit of my labor would wither beneath the new clutter I'd create. Keeping my room clean is a feat I've fought and failed to master since childhood.

Exhibit A: The time my parents discovered little Arleen asleep on a pile of toys while she "cleaned her room."

Bless my heart. I tried.

But I was the kid who wouldn't rid her room of clutter. Instead, I'd stack it neatly and call it clean. A kid like that grows into a teen whose parents walk into her room and wonder aloud whether her closet projectile vomited. That teen grows into an adult whose desk at work is the worst one in the office.

Exhibits B and C: In June of 2010, I went to work on a Saturday to turn this...

into this:

BAM. And you'll be proud to know my desk has consistently remained almost as clutter free since.

But until earlier this week, when I decluttered my space at home, my desk at work was as good as it got. I fought to keep clutter under control everywhere else. And I know exactly why.

When I come home at the end of the day, I throw all I bring in onto my bed. By the time I go back to my room, it's late and I'm ready to sleep. So I throw everything on my bed onto the floor.

Every. Day.

By the end of a week, while I struggle to remember what color my carpet is, I realize what's ahead: another Friday night spent cleaning my mess or another day off spent working. At least, unlike in my childhood, I value simplicity. I practice it an as many areas of life as I can. When I straighten up my stuff, I want to do it. And when I did it big earlier this week, I decided on this year's experiment:

2011 will be my clutter free year.

The plan? No clutter spends the night. At the end of every day, I'll browse my bedroom, closet and bathroom. If anything's anywhere it shouldn't be, I'll put it back in its place. I won't go to bed until it's done. And barring any new decor or other such changes, my space will look like it looks today every day between now and Dec. 31, 2011.

So like this:

And this:
And this:

When compared to my sugar free year, a clutter free year sounds simple. But I'm 25 years old and I've never had a clutter free room for longer than two weeks. Nobody who has known me for awhile will believe it if I pull it off for a year. And though I'm embarassed by it, sharing it is all I can do to express the magnitude of my goal (I forgot to take before pictures.).

You should also know, however, that I'm a believer in the unbelievable. And I believe there is a lot of good to learn from this sort of exercise: To delay gratification. To prioritize. To manage my time. To be patient. Pulling it off means severing all ties to spending tons of time hanging up laundry that's been clean for weeks. It means I won't have to spend the first few hours of a study day cleaning so I can focus. It means I won't trip over shoes when I wake up in the morning.

Will it be hard? Heck yes. But I'm for it. Let's do this!

Resolutions and experiments.

2010-12-28T17:39:00.000-08:00

In three days, the ball will drop over Times Square. Twenty-ten will end over mini quiches and coconut rum. The next day, we'll wake up in 2011 chock full of the urge to live out our new year's resolutions. And shortly after, we will fail at it.

BURN.

Oh, I kid. But I kid because while lots of us are miserable keepers of resolutions, there must be somebody somewhere among all people who can sincerely stick to it. I am not that person.

In 2010, for instance, I definitely made some new year's resolutions. I don't remember any of them. In fact, I have never kept one in my life. But last year, I also decided I'd conduct an experiment.

Twenty-ten would be my sugar free year. Excluding the added sugar in bread and crackers, condiments and alcohol, I'd live without it for a year. And to the dismay of naysayers and to the surprise of the people who know how I teeter along that blurry line between loving and being obsessed with chocolate, I -- for all intents and purposes -- succeeded.

I chose to quit added sugar because I got tired of feeling lousy after eating it and I know I don't need it (and if I don't need it, I don't want it).

But I had a point in choosing an experiment at all. I picked the probably impossible and promised myself I'd accomplish it. I did it as a discipline and to stick it to the man.

I did it to prove that we are so much stronger than we're told we are.

We live in a world where we're certain we'd die if we had to go back to dial-up. We have cell phones and drive-thrus, instant music on iTunes and instant movies on Netflix. We can shop online, make new friends and work jobs without leaving home. None is necessarily bad. All are convenient. But where we live, we have never learned to treat conveniences like little blessings that help us out of binds. Instead, we depend on them. So we take the things we should expect in life and call them inconvenient -- things like waiting in line at the grocery store or having to drive to Blockbuster. We percieve what's convenient to be necessary, which, by default, inflates a person's sense of entitlement and erodes his or her ability to wait. It communicates that what the world says is impossible is, in fact, impossible. And so we subscribe to that and stop trying.

It weakens us.

It's why we are obsessed with instant gratification. It's why your friends think you're weird if you won't eat fast food and why you hit a certain age and the assumption is you aren't saving sex for marriage (or capable of it).

It's why we can't keep new year's resolutions.

They tell us it's probably impossible.

I am telling you that they are wrong.

I am not telling you that proving it is easy. When I woke up on New Year's Day in 2010, I wasn't really excited to start my sugar free year. I was horrified that after publicly professing to spend a year sans added sugar, I'd surely forget one day and eat some ice cream. I was afraid I'd be so weak I'd give in and give up and write "never mind, I quit because I really want a brownie" on my sugar free year blog.

But I did it. And I'm not bragging. I am thanking God that am stronger than the world says I am. And I'm not as scared about 2011's experiment as I thought I'd be.

- - - -

Check back around New Year's Eve to learn more about 2011's experiment.

Ten things that happened in 2010.

2010-12-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

I say and/or think it every December, but dang. One day, you're riding a pink bicycle, referring to it as your cop car and you're seven. You blink and, BAM. You're in grad school, bein' 25 and learning how to diagnose mental illnesses with confidence.

Time flies.

And it won't stop. And since I probably won't have much time to write once Christmas festivities start tomorrow, I thought I'd take a little time now to share 10 things I won't forget that happened in 2010:

1. My sugar free year: Last December, on a whim, I decided I'd give up added sugar for 2010. Exceptions would include bread/crackers, condiments and alcoholic beverages. My relationship with sugar had been on the rocks for as long as I could think back. Eating too much of it always meant I'd get moody or anxious or I'd sleep so deeply you'd have to shake me to wake me up. But eating too much of it had become inevitable -- how can we not eat too much sugar when too much sugar is generally added to nearly everything we eat? Tired of feeling crappy for eating it and to prove that life can be lived (and still enjoyed) without dessert, I decided I'd sever my ties to it. My sugar free year -- which officially ends 8 days from today -- has been mostly a success. Sans a few snags in the plan (i.e. when I got so sick last January that all I could stomach was Jello, and all the Cheez-Its I ate before I knew sugar's in it under other names, or when the Cake Boss made my cousin's wedding cake and the family talked me into trying a forkful of the frosting [it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!]), I pretty much actually pulled it off. And I don't foresee adding much sugar to my life now that I've gone without it for so long.

2. I quit Facebook (and, later, Twitter): There are countless reasons people think I'm crazy. This is probably the one that takes the cake. My stepping away from social media started in 2007, when I deleted my MySpace and had texting shut off on my phone. To quote the column I wrote when I quit Facebook this year, "When we feel like an invisible audience is watching us, the pressure is on. Our decisions are calculated to a fault because everything we do is fodder for a Facebook status. ... Social media can also inflate our standards in the real world. We feel more entitled to convenience, averse to effort and uncomfortable with aloneness. Finding friends the old-fashioned way can feel like too much work. Social media makes what we once needed seem obsolete. It is to relationships what fast food is to nutrition — a quick way to feel like we've gotten what we need. But when compared with what we really need, what we get is insubstantial." And the movement of social media through society is changing communication, relationships and brains in ways in which I'd rather not participate. Plus, quitting Facebook and Twitter were natural next steps when one is convicted to stick it to the social media man.

3. We said goodbye to Rocky: In winter in fifth grade, I watched my dad walk into our kitchen with a puppy on the palm of his hand. The silver dapple dachshund weighed a pound and a half and had a head too big for his body. We named him Rocky. To quote what I wrote about him earlier this year, "Together, we grew. I became an adult, and he became a trickster who got good at getting us to leave our food unattended. Once, I caught him chewing gum. Another time, I caught him sucking on a cough drop. He was a canine comedian. An intent listener. A fighter." In the summer of 2009, our vet diagnosed him with cancer. He had six months to live. So we ran and played with him until he couldn't anymore. We learned to be what he needed the way he had been what we needed for years. When he lost his ability to walk, we decided to have him put down. I was with him when he died the morning of March 22 at 13 years and 3 months old. We will always miss him.

4. A missionary moved in for a weekend: Right around Easter, I got an email from a guy I'd never met -- David Thies, a friend of a friend. David is a missionary and musician who lives in Houston and planned to play music and share stories from Texas to Florida and back in the summer. He needed places to play and stay and wondered who and what I knew that could help that happen when he got to Florida. It happens that there's an extra empty (literally) bedroom in my parents' house, where I also live. So I shared David's plans with my parents. And unlike anything we'd done before, we invited a stranger to stay at our house. David and his friend James came for a weekend in July. David played music at our house and at church and the guys slept on air mattresses in our home for a couple of nights. Hospitality, it turns out, is as valuable for the people providing it as it is for its recipients.

5. We adopted Rudy: This year, we had a dogless house for the first time since I was in second grade (which is when we got our first dog, Willy, who died in 2009). While my mom and I were in no rush to fill the void, it became clear this summer that my dad wanted a dog. So when I came home the on the evening of July 30, the amber eyes of an almost-two-year-old, 12-pound long-haired, red brindle dachshund stared at me from my dad's lap on the love seat. We named him Rudy, partly because he had a red nose (Rudolph?), partly because I love the movie Rudy and partly after Mayor Rudy Giuliani because that's hilarious. Mr. Mayor is, in the words of my best friend Laurel, a constant source of joy. He is a.k.a. Kangarudy (the boy can jump!), the Rude Dude and the entire chorus of the song "Hey Rude," my slightly re-written version of "Hey Jude" by the Beatles. Rudy loves people who don't catch him off guard, does not like other dogs and is the object of the obsession of almost every person who meets him. I love him.

6. I got over a phobia: I can't remember when I realized I had it. I have no idea how it started. But for years, at the thought of a) driving on I-275 and/or b) driving into or within downtown Tampa or St. Pete, fear paralyzed me. I could do the things I feared because I'd done them before -- just not without a heck of a lot of anxiety. I knew that if I wanted to be able to do it without anxiety, I'd have to do it a lot in one shot -- flooding. But mostly, and quite contrary to what I'd suggest to somebody else in the same position, I did everything in my power to avoid it. I didn't go places if I had to take 275 to get there. I enlisted enablers. And since twice a month I have a work-related meeting in downtown Tampa, I really needed one of those enablers -- Phuong, a good friend and colleague. She always drove us both to our meetings. You can imagine the panic that welled up in me when she announced in August that she'd be quitting her job. So on Labor Day, I got what I'd long needed: a few good hours of flooding. I picked my brother up. We stopped at Dunkin' D for his coffee. And then, I drove. I-4. 275. Into, out of and throughout downtown Tampa in every way possible. Two days later, the moment of truth: the first meeting to which I'd have to drive myself. I made it -- and fearlessly, and countless times since, I might add. I've also ventured to several other spots to which I wouldn't have driven in the past. It's incredibly freeing and I'm forever grateful to my brother for the encouragement and patience.

7. Frankie's wedding: The first Friday of October, my brother, his girlfriend and I flew to New Jersey for our cousin Frankie's wedding. It was the first time in six years I'd fly up that way. It was the first time in 12 years I'd see my cousin Louie. It was an awesome trip. Our flight left Tampa late and the wait for a rental car in Newark took awhile. It was midnight before we got to our hotel. We found Frankie and the family in the hotel bar and stayed up 'til 2. He married the lovely Christina in a beautiful church fewer than 12 hours later. That evening, a bus picked a ton of us up from the hotel and took us to the reception which, simply, blew my mind. Multiple buffets in the cocktail lounge. Ladies in ball gowns to announce when the dining room opened. A DJ and a percussionist whose music you could feel. A cake made at Carlo's Bakery, the bakery from the show the Cake Boss. I, one who only loved to dance when behind locked doors at home, gave in and busted some moves for the first time publicly. So. Much. Fun! I flew home the next day -- a super short trip. But entirely worth it.

8. I met and interviewed R.L. Stine, a hero of mine: Kim and I go way back: we've been friends for 15 years. So you can imagine all the ways we can reminisce. At dinner at her parents' house probably halfway through this year, we brought up a book series she and I loved as kids: Goosebumps. The series of "scary" books for kids is by a guy named R.L. Stine. And though I donated my collection to the library when I outgrew them, Kim kept some of hers. We found them in the closet in her old room that night. For old times' sake, we read part of one. While we read, I realized reading as much as I did as a kid is part of why I grew up to be a writer. I thought I'd thank R.L. Stine for playing a part in that. So I searched for him on Twitter (Social media is good for some things!), found his very active account and tweeted my thanks @ him. The following day, R.L. STINE tweeted @ ME! If, in third grade, somebody had told me that one day, after the advent of something called social media, R.L. Stine would send me a message via it, I never would have believed it. Even as an adult, that he thought about me, let alone tweeted @ me, completely blew my mind. Since I learned he is so easily accessed, I used my next tweet @ him to see if I could interview him for a column about growing up with Goosebumps books. HE SAID YES. Within the hour, I was callin' him Bob, setting up our phone interview and pitching the idea to the paper's book editor. Serendipitously, Bob would be in St. Pete at my own newspaper's reading festival in October. So what I wrote ran in advance of his appearence at the festival, where -- on Oct. 23 -- we finally met face to face.

9. Kim's wedding: A little less than halfway through 2005, I walked through University Mall toward Sears, where I'd meet up with a guy named Pat. We'd met on Facebook and become friends and in the moments before our first ever face to face meeting, I called Kim for moral support. "What if he's crazy?" she said. "I AM SO SCARED FOR YOU." Little did she know that in 2010, she'd marry him. Not long after I met Pat in real life, I e-introduced him to Kim. On the way to meet Kim at a coffee shop the first time she'd meet Pat in person, Pat and I stopped at the store so he could pick up a Ring Pop, with which he'd pretend to propose. Yada yada yada, Pat proposed for real in 2009 and I was a bridesmaid in their wedding the day before my birthday this year. The entire experience was amazing -- bridal shower, bachelorette party, a day at the spa before the rehearsal, the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner and finally, the wedding. I held it together until Kim came down the aisle with her dad during the ceremony, at which point the figureative dam with which my body normally holds back tears actually broke entirely. Thankfully, people stare at the bride at weddings so my weeping with joy went unnoticed. The reception -- at which I didn't just dance publicly for the second time in my life (third if you count my nonsensical dance moves at CityWalk during the bachelorette party), but more in one day than I've ever danced before -- is on an unwritten list of the most fun nights of my life. Lots of laughs, food, coconut rum (but not too much!) and stories we'll share in years yet to come.

10. A cruise to Cozumel: Halfway through the year, Laurel (a.k.a. Ster) and I (also a.k.a. Ster) decided to plan a Stercation for this winter. We picked a cruise to Grand Cayman and Cozumel for Dec. 13-18. By the time it rolled around, she and I were both far beyond ready for time off. So when we pulled up to the port of Tampa, we were mildly concerned when just hours before our ship was to cruise to the Caribbean, there were no ships at port. Carnival called earlier that day to let us know the ship would be late because the weather was too windy to dock, but no ship at all so late in the day seemed a little sketchy. So, we waited. Then we waited some more. Then the cruiseline announced that due to the wind, our ship -- still occupied by a couple thousand cruisers -- wouldn't dock 'til late that night. That meant our cruise wouldn't start until Dec. 14. The loss of a whole day on the ship meant we wouldn't go to Grand Cayman. It also meant for a nice discount, we'd stay in a suite at the Embassy Suites that night. (And we get a discount on a future cruise. Count me in.) Around four the following afternoon, our ship set sail. Shortly thereafter, I got seasick. Don't worry: I didn't barf, and by the time I woke up Wednesday, I felt fine. I gave myself permission throughout the cruise to do a lot of nothing at all (which is really what I needed). But Ster and I also enjoyed a few riveting rounds of UnoStacko (as well as a little game we like to call "What Are You Going to Name Your Kid?"), ate a lot unnecessarily, sipped some drinks, got some sun, toured some Mayan ruins, had Mexican food and margaritas on the beach in Cozumel and laughed really hard on an almost hourly basis.

I look back and thank God for the good memories and growing pains. The 10 things I chose don't diminish the meaning in all the things I didn't have room to list. But there are a few other things that I can't not bring up: good things, like all the people I met through work or through friends and online. All the stories I got to write and the great classes I took in school. Another is sad: my Great Uncle Louie died in January. And lots that I won't have room for are funny, like the time Phuong and I were out to lunch at Louis Pappas Market on Bruce B. Downs. After we ate, we both had to use the restroom but we couldn't remember whether the bathroom there had one or two stalls. "You go first," she said. So, I did. Upon my return, I sat down at our booth. Phuong looked right at me and asked, "So was it one or two?" I was taken aback by her question, but I answered anyway. "Uh... number one?" Phuong looked confused. And then, we both realized. She'd asked how many stalls the bathroom has, not what I did while I was in there. We laughed so hard we cried. Several times. For the rest of the day.

Here's to 2011. In the new year, let's pray:

"Lord, help us live so foolishly for you that we draw onlookers and those who would deride us. And while they watch and mock, change all our hearts that we might learn to laugh at the foolishness this world calls normal and run away with the circus that is real life."

Happy new year!

On waiting.

2010-12-22T10:28:00.001-08:00

"For a stalk to grow or a flower to open there must be time that cannot be forced; nine months must go by for the birth of a human child; to write a book or compose music often years must be dedicated to patient research ... To find the mystery there must be patience, interior purification, silence, waiting..." -Pope John Paul II

Don't "should" on me.

2010-12-19T07:32:00.000-08:00

When I was a little kid, I stood in front of a department store's fitting room mirror in what would become my new dress. I twirled around in it. I fiddled with its floppy collar and poked its buttons and bows. I held up a matching hat and patent leather purse. I smiled.

"Aren't I pretty?" I asked my mom.

"Yes," she said. "Of course."

"Good," I thought. Her answer satisfied me. And simply, I moved on.

I didn't know then that when girls grow into women, it is rarely that easy. Most of us don't smile anymore when we look at mirrors. Instead, we scrutinize. We point out the parts of us we think are too big or small. Fret over wrinkles. Curl hair that's straight. Straighten hair that's curly. Color grays. Cover imperfections. Whiten teeth. Wax and pluck. Diet pills. Body wraps. Brow lifts. Botox. Boob jobs. Some women get fat sucked out of their butts and injected into their boobs. Others have had a toe on each foot amputated to make uncomfortable shoes bearable.

We aren't satisfied. Ever. What a way to live. It is sad and unhealthy. It is a disaster for women and men alike. And frankly, it pisses me off.

But it makes sense.

Why would we be satisfied when men exist who tell their girlfriends and wives what to wear and what body parts to augment?

Why would we be satisfied when we are bombarded by ads that imply that teeth should be perfectly white, you can't be attractive with cellulite or stretch marks, hair should always be shiny, hair shouldn't be gray, boobs should be big, boobs shouldn't sag, eyelashes should be thick, wrinkled skin should be avoided, it's gross if you sweat and people who aren't skinny aren't happy?

Since I hate to be a bearer of bad news, let me give you some good news: Teeth don't stay white when you use them. Cellulite and stretch marks happen. Hair turns gray and frizzes. People sweat. Boobs are hangy blobs of fat that come in various sizes and are good for feeding babies. The girls in the mascara ads are wearing false lashes. Skin gets wrinkly. There is something wrong with you if you don't sweat. There is nothing wrong with you if you have curves. So, stop "shoulding" on us. And if you do it, stop "shoulding" on yourself. There is no good reason to make your body do what our culture says it should when our culture says "God forbid your body functions normally."

In the words of a producer of the fabulous documentary America the Beautiful, these industries of so-called beauty "bring women down in order to sell products to bring them up.” They fabricate a problem and sell you a solution. In the process, what both men and women expect of women morphs until it is unattainable. We are taught to deplore what occurs naturally so when it happens -- and it will -- we hate ourselves and will do anything (i.e. spend everything) to "fix" it.

You don't have to do that anymore. You are not defined by what other people think of you. You are not defined by how you look compared to someone else. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Breath of Heaven.

2010-12-12T05:38:00.000-08:00

Advent song of the week:

Advent Song of the Week

2010-11-28T22:00:00.000-08:00

I am scared of social media.

2010-11-26T14:55:00.000-08:00

For three weeks, I have lived entirely sans social media. For four years, I have trash talked social media. But for the first time ever, I am a little bit scared of it.

Earlier this week, a friend of mine forwarded me an article called Growing Up Digital, Wired for Distraction (thank you, Alex!). The story, from the New York Times, is both fascinating and horrifying. In it, a 17-year-old kid said the following:

“Facebook is amazing because it feels like you’re doing something and
you’re not doing anything. It’s the absence of doing something, but you feel gratified anyway.”

For years, I've looked for words to express that very sentiment. I've never quite pulled it off, nor could I say it any better than he did. Let's face it: he's right. But that somebody who uses and loves Facebook is the one who said it is incredibly alarming.

When a way exists to put forth zero effort and come away gratified anyway, why would the general public put forth effort? The existence of that ability lowers every bar. It conditions us to settle, and to feel satisfied after settling. It's like Mark Zuckerberg told the whole world that a dollar bill is as good as a hundred, and the whole world believed him. So not only does the whole world feel good about having a dollar, but it stops wanting more, stops aiming for more and forgets the value in having anything more. The industry, which also capitalizes on our culture's unfortunate obsession with convenience, robs us of depth, effort and patience. It makes them obsolete.

What might that mean for the relationships and communication skills and work ethics of the future?

That's the scary part.

That's the part that says "screw you, pal!" to almost everything I have ever valued.

Click here to read the story from the New York Times.

Christmas is coming.

2010-11-25T22:20:00.000-08:00

Christmas is coming. And it is, in my opinion (though possibly in fact), the most wonderful time of the year.

I realize that as I write this, it has only been 10 hours since I ate turkey on Thanksgiving. But there is more to Thanksgiving's end than a tryptophan-induced coma. The end of Thanksgiving signifies the beginning of Advent, a liturgical season in which followers of Christ await and prepare for the celebration of His birth.

It is also when all kinds of people lose their freakin' minds. Sometimes, the holiday mind-loss is voluntary (case in point: shopping on Black Friday.). Other times, people don't pre-plan to do things that are crazy. They only succumb to the insanity when the voluntarily-crazies cut them off with cars and shopping carts or call them out for paying with checks instead of credit.

And so what happens is, while we go into Advent intending to prepare to celebrate the birth of Christ, we get a little distracted when we have to fight over the last can of pumpkin puree, or to get into and out of parking spots, or with some kid's angry grandma because she yelled at us when we glanced at the last set of Harry Potter Legos and she thought doing so meant we'd try to take it from her cart.

Not a particularly productive way to spend the season. Also, thankfully, not a necessary way to spend it. There is a moving, rebellious alternative: the Advent Conspiracy. If you haven't heard of it, take 2 minutes and 39 seconds to watch this:

Feeling free to conspire yet?

From the Advent Conspiracy blog:

1. [AC] was created by three pastors who simply wanted to challenge people to make Christmas personal again. We are asking folks to consider doing four things: Worship Jesus Fully, Consider Spending Less on gifts that are bought out of obligation, Give More relational gifts, and use a little bit of the money you didn’t spend to Love All by helping those in need.

2. No money comes through, to, under, over or around [AC]. We are not an organization. We’re a movement.

3. We really love giving people clean water (did you know the lack of clean water is the number one killer in our world). You should check out Living Water International for more info. That being said, we want you to make this a personal thing between you and God. If you have another organization that you wish to support, go for it!

Happy Advent!

Saying thanks for the things we don't notice.

2010-11-22T07:49:00.000-08:00

Three days until Thanksgiving.

It reminds me, like it always does, to think about the things I'm grateful for and to say thanks for them.

SO EASY. I'm thankful for my family, my dog Rudy, mashed potatoes, my friends, my job, macaroni and cheese, cruise ships, the beach, the fact that I have clothes, grilled cheese sandwiches, school, the freedom to worship God, nachos with cheese, health, a place to live, pillows, blankets, role models and cheese by itself.

All good things. All obvious things. Makes me wonder if there are good things I haven't noticed.

Have you ever encountered a person who is, in the worst ways, oblivious?

One of the worst oblivious encounters I've had happened one afternoon while I drove through the parking lot of a grocery store near my house. In one corner of the lot, there's a three way stop. Like George Costanza says, "we're living in a society!", so when you're at a three way stop, you and the other drivers take turns. That's how it works and it works like a charm when respected.

It was not respected on that particular day.

I stopped at the sign and waited for my turn. And just as it was my turn, somebody totally blew one of the other stop signs. This guy, I thought, is about to overtake my turn! In effort to teach him a lesson (usually a bad idea), I took my turn anyway. Naturally, we both slammed on our brakes to avoid a collision. We rolled down our windows.

"HEY!" he shouted while running his stop sign. "YOU'RE RUNNING A STOP SIGN!"

Is. He. KIDDING ME? I am on Candid Camera right now, I thought.

Unfortunately not so. He really was that unaware. If he only knew! My hunch is, that given awareness of what he had missed, he'd be slightly ashamed of himself. He'd probably pay more attention in the future. He'd try harder to notice things that are easily overlooked. He'd admit that some things are only easy to overlook when one is too self absorbed.

Just sayin'. Certainly not sayin' I'm never that person. Pretty sure we all are sometimes. On an episode of Conan O'Brien's old show, comedian Louis CK pointed out a place where we are mostly guilty:

airplanes.

"People come back from flights and they tell you their story," he said. "It's a horror story. (People say) 'it was the worst day of my life. We didn't board for 20 minutes and then they made us sit there on the runway for forty minutes!' ... Oh really? What happened next? Did you fly through the air incredibly? ... You're flying! It's amazing! ... You're sitting in a chair in the sky."

But we're so often quicker to notice instead that the seat "doesn't go back a lot."

Thanksgiving, I think, is a good time to look for the good things we don't notice. It's a great time to say thanks for them.

Pull yourself together!

2010-11-20T23:14:00.000-08:00

Five years ago, my friend Sarah and I did something we called the Legend of 75.

I was 20 and depressed and in effort to forget all the nonsense in my head, we went to a town an hour and a half's drive south of Tampa as loudly as we could.

Really.

Windows rolled down, we yelled nonsense heading south on I-75. There is something so freeing about yelling "I definitely consistently prefer peanut butter and honey over peanut butter and jelly when it comes to sandwiches!" at 80 miles per hour. I let go of something so I could start to pull myself back together.

Being free requires letting go. (Which, luckily for other drivers, doesn't always require yelling out the windows of moving vehicles.)

I think to some extent everybody wants and likes to be free. We feel freed from overweightness when we're in good physical shape. A significant other makes us feel freed from loneliness. We feel freed from stress when, whatever the method, we reduce it. When we don't have what we want or need, there's always a little something that keeps us bound to some other thing. A need to think a lot about how to get out of a rut, if not just about the fact that we're in one.

How does our culture respond? Certainly not by letting go.

Not in shape? Get diet pills.

No significant other? Join eHarmony.

Stressed? Buy self help books.

What a lot of us end up with is our original lack of freedom -- a few extra pounds, loneliness, stress -- plus another thing. And then another. And another.

We want to be free from whatever it is, and instead of letting go of what causes it, we cling to something else that we hope will negate the effects of it. I remember once, I spent a day -- a whole day -- cleaning out my closet because I finally couldn't take the clutter. I had too much stuff so I sorted through it for hours. In my sorting, I found multiple self-help books, all on attaining simplicity. Not only did I have a lot of clutter, but a collection of things I thought would help me rid me of my clutter was, in fact, part of my problem.

How typical it is, with good intentions, to commit to things that, lo and behold, distract us from doing what we actually need to do.

Maybe we don't need diet pills, but to let go of an old way of taking care of the body. Maybe there are behaviors or beliefs in our lives that need to be let go before we can successfully be a significant other to someone. Maybe we're stressed because we've committed to do too many things, like read multiple self help books. Maybe we need to let go of something.

Then we can pull ourselves back together.

Stepping away from social media.

2010-11-13T16:46:00.000-08:00

I quit MySpace in 2006. I stopped texting in 2007. I deactivated my Facebook account in January. And in keeping with tradition and conviction, after a few years in its bonds, I quit Twitter last week.

My journey into a world sans social media seems to strike nerves, even in strangers.

"Why are you trying to shut yourself out from the world?" -an old friend.

"Facebook is an amazing application to keep in touch with old friends. (You have) some social interaction issues to deal with." -some stranger.

"It sounds like YOU have the issues, not Facebook ... you took it too seriously." -some other stranger.

"You're just trying to hide from modern inventions." -guy I've never met.

Forgive my being blunt, but way to miss the point.

Social media is to relationships what fast food is to nutrition. It makes us feel like we're getting what we need, but compared to what we really need, what we get is insubstantial. For the lonely, the bored, the socially awkward or the socially phobic, it -- in the long run -- perpetuates what it's supposed to alleviate. It teaches us to value the reaction to what we express more than we value the opportunity to express it. It casts the vote for convenience, further supressing the ability to wait.

It enables us to avoid. It creates an illusion of busy-ness. It distracts us. And I don't want the use of it to play a big role in my life.

I don't disagree, though, that social media has benefits. Even I've reaped them. I have friends I wouldn't have without social media. I've scored interviews solely because of it. But I can make friends and score interviews without it, too.

I very well may be a neo-luddite. And maybe that means my life will be only more complex for opting out of all extra ways to communicate and my friends won't be my friends anymore because it's too much work. Maybe I'll never be invited to another party because Facebook will monopolize the invitation industry and I'll be single forever because meeting people like our parents met people is officially passé. Maybe stepping away from social media is condemnation to a life inside a hermitage, a life out of the loop. Maybe the stranger is right: I am the one who takes it all too seriously.

Maybe.

But I doubt it.

One day, I realized how unimportant these loops are. Why do I need to be in them? How do they help me to more wholly live my life? Why do I need to know what TV show so-and-so is watching? How much better is my life for knowing that lead vox in a band at a bar in Ybor just spilled his beer on the stage? Why, when people spend more time uploading photos from a party than fully being present at the party and sleep with their cell phones and read and respond to text messages from behind the steering wheels of moving motor vehicles, am I the one who takes this stuff too seriously?

I understand, though, why it strikes a nerve. And I appreciate the reasons some choose to stay. But for me, stepping away from social media, so far, is like liberation. And I look forward to learning what life really looks like without it.

Seek first His kingdom.

2010-11-01T20:20:00.000-07:00

Pretty much daily, I need to remind myself that Jesus meant what he said. He didn't speak to break an awkward silence or to draw attention to himself.

"Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear for clothing?' For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things," he said. "For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

What we need: Food, drink, shelter, clothes.

Kick it up a notch.

What we think we need: Financial security. A significant other. Our way.

It boggles the mind that he told us a) what to do because b) he knows what we need and c) he will get it to us. Yet so often, we still seek first all the other stuff.

He meant what he said. Every word. Trust him.