Thursday, May 31, 2012

Happy Birthday TDT!


Well, here we are! One year into the official birthday of our blog! Happy birthday us!
At a time when there have been questions about the quality and quantity of our interactions via social media (http://tinyurl.com/72k3blq), I can definitely say that the quality of my interactions with you, my closest friends, was not quite what I wanted it to be. I felt consumed by schoolwork as I adjusted to life in graduate school. Although the work hasn’t quite change, I can definitely say that I have enjoyed my time connecting with all of you via this blog. I’ve loved reading about infiltrations of the Death Star (http://tinyurl.com/7qlv4fe) to seeing champions of broomball (http://tinyurl.com/8355gju). We’ve had over 3,000 page views and what will soon be over 90 posts. Not bad for a little blog amongst friends!

So thank you all for contributing, but I have some questions for you as we move into our second year. What would you like to be different? What would you like to see less of? What would you like to see more of? Do you want more contributions from people? More comments?

I guess I’ll sum up my experiences so far like this: I’m excited for where we’ve come from, and I’m excited to see where we all go. I’ve enjoyed feeling a little bit more connected with all of you!


Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Better than Tony Blair...

... even two years later:

http://www.colby.edu/news_events/commencement/2010/scspeaker/

Love that man.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Lessons we should keep in mind 2 (or 1) years later

From http://www.colby.edu/news_events/c/pr/052012/2635957/tony-blair-offers-seven-lessons-at-colbys-191st-commencement/


"Blair shared seven lessons in life.

Lesson one: “Never stop learning. Carry on. And have the humility always to know that you can learn more," he said. "Successful people are not defined by a restless search for fame and fortune but by an insatiable desire to be better and an infinite curiosity as to how. They’re perpetual voyagers on the journey of self-improvement.”

Lesson two: Maintain an open mind. “Be open to those of different faiths, cultures, races, and nations,” Blair said. “These things are the boundaries of division in history, but the open mind crosses them.”

Lesson three: “Giving is as good as getting,” Blair said. “Compassion is as important as ambition. So don’t just choose a career, choose a cause. There are many to choose from. … The noble causes—believe me they’re there amongst all the drudgery and self obsession of human existence—find them and save a bit of yourselves for them. It’s worth it.”

Lesson four: Friendship matters, and family matters most. “It’s in the family that you learn one of the most important lessons of life: that it is not all about you.”

Lesson five: Be a leader, not a follower. “And above all else, be a doer and not a critic, Blair said. “Human progress has never been shaped by commentators, complainers, or cynics. Progress is forged by the courage of the change-maker. Courage is not the absence of fear, it’s the overcoming of fear. And the leaders that I’ve met—all of them have always had their doubts, anxieties, periods of acute lack of confidence, worry,” he said.

Lesson six: Make use of the interconnected world. “It’s a fascinating and energizing and exciting world out there,” Blair said. “Take advantage of it. See the world. See its possibilities.”

Lesson seven: This time of challenge presents unprecedented opportunity. “Have confidence,” said Blair. “Because we’re not an empire based on interest but a way of life based on values. And those values—democracy, liberty, the equality of each human being regardless of race and religion, faith, or gender, free enterprise, fair play—these values that define your nation at its best and my nation at its best—they’re not a monument to our past, they are humanity’s best hope for the future.”


I hope that these serve as a pick-me-up where ever two or one year(s) post-Colby finds you.

I'll be updating this with what's going on in my life soon. It's exciting! 

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Because I Don’t Want to Do Homework; Or, How I Might Be Able to Empathize with Willie McCovey


As a pre-2010 San Francisco Giants fan, I was supposed to understand the pain that was the propensity for the team to fail to win the World Series. For a while there, we had the third longest streak in the majors (behind the Cubs and the Indians, at the time… I heard plenty about the Red Sox, thank you very much). But it wasn’t because the Giants weren’t close. In 2002, my first experience of the pain that was sometimes associated with the Giants, we lost to this (monstrosity) in seven games:

In 1989, we got swept by our cross-town rivals, because of an earthquake that yours truly slept through. Oakland A’s fans never let us forget that their total championships (four) were greater than our total championships (zero) since both franchises had been in the Bay.

But in 1962, the Giants were the closest they ever came to winning the World Series. Up against the vaunted Yankees, and anchored by the likes of such Hall of Famers as Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Orlando Cepeda, and Juan Marichal. In the seventh game, McCovey was at the plate, down 1 – 0, 2 outs, and runners at 2nd and 3rd base (who happened to be Mays and Felipe Alou, respectively). Wikipedia says the following happened:

Terry's inside fastball on the second pitch handcuffed McCovey, who nonetheless adjusted his bat in mid-swing to extend his arms and hit what he later claimed was the hardest ball he had ever struck. The line drive appeared at first to be going over the head of a well-positioned Richardson, but was in fact sinking from topspin and Richardson made the catch without leaping to end the game.

This play resonated with long-time Giants fans, who long believed that was the closest the team would ever come to winning the World Series in San Francisco. This included one Charles Schulz. He immortalized the moment in Giants history with the following strip, the only time he ever commentated on a real life event in his comic strip:


Also, this one came in a later strip:


So, I played on an intramural softball team the past few weeks with some people in the couples and family therapy program due to an Ultimate friend who is also in that program. We didn’t win any games in the regular season, but certainly improved over the weeks. We scored one run in our first game, four in our second game, and lost 9 to 8 on a walk-off hit in our last regular season game. Upward trending, right?

We came to our last game and we couldn’t even field a full team. With eight instead of ten players, we gave up 4 runs in the last inning to make the game 10 – 8 in favor of the opposition. As the home team, we batted last. We worked the pitcher and the counts, drew some walks and some timely hits, and the score was 10 – 9 with the bases loaded and two outs. I came to the plate. The pitcher had had difficulty throwing (read: under-handing) strikes, and I probably could have drawn a walk to tie the game. With the count 3 and 1, I decided that would be a lame way to tie the game. So I swung at the next pitch and hit a frozen rope. The trouble was, the shortstop decided to jump as high as he could and snowconed my hit in his glove. Game over.

I can’t compare myself to Willie McCovey. But damn, if that sucked for me and our team, I can’t even imagine ending a World Series in such a gut-wrenching fashion. Thank god the Giants won the World Series in 2010 (never going to get old). 

Sunday, May 13, 2012

A Week of Caretaking, Pt. 1-- Mother's Day

This has been an interesting week for me in North Carolina that I'd like to share with you all. I usually keep them a little too busy, I now recognize, and am in the process of cutting back. Perhaps this post is to replace what silence I have had toward this blog, and perhaps the lack of continuity I've had in trying to create skype dates.

And so there's really, way too much to express. I live a life filled with experiences that I want to share with you all, though every time I get down to talking about it, I don't want to overwhelm. Perhaps I'll split this up into three posts based on the core quest that I am pursuing: how to take care of people throughout your own pursuits. I'll address today, Chief Care-taking day of them all, I guess, and work backward through my week, unpacking it as I go... I think three over the next week should be a nice compromise between the two.

So, hey, today is mother's day, a day when we celebrate one of our chief care-takers. It's a day filled with early brunches, extended movies, kids jumping headlong onto a sleeping mother's mattress with stuffed animals or a homemade card to share, single mothers taking each other out for lunch (that may or may not be happening with my mom right now). Sons and daughters flock to florists, gift shops, or their own creativity to give back to their mothers in swoops.

I did a little of the same, maybe even too much. I took advantage of my current proximity to home, and showered my mom with a breakfast (sprouted whole wheat grain pancakes with bananas and chocolate chips, an omelette of tomato, spinach, onions and mozzarella, and a kiwi-strawberry-blueberry fruit salad). Next up: flowers tonight and a showing of Wicked this Thursday at the Durham Performing Arts Center.

A bit egregious, but while I'm here, why not overdo it a little? ;-)

But it's interesting that I do, because for me, though, this is a day that has typically been very confusing to me for a number of reasons. My mother was my daily chief care-taker throughout 12 years of my life, simply because of divorce circumstances. Living in a fractured family confused me whenever mother or father's day rolled around. I was not part of a normal family, but the rest of the world seemed to be that way. It maybe even put a little more pressure on me to fulfill because I didn't have the other adult helping me out in celebrating the other. For some reason, though, the act of taking care of me and my brother Rehan became what bound us all together despite the civil disputes and low blows. Love and caring became how each mother and father's day had some semblance of normalcy (I've since figured out being normal is not as cracked up as it seems). My life has been devoted to creating positive relationships with each of them so as to make each life in their own respect peaceful, to perhaps comfort all of us that it was for the best in the end.

But that is perhaps a story for another time.

Mother's day: I should celebrate today in wild fashion to help acknowledge my mother's sacrifice toward raising me and my brother single handedly, though I've always still had qualms with the concept of just a one Mother's/Father's day; parents to me deserve at least one small celebration per day. Why should we decide to set aside one day for an intentional mother/father's day? Why can't we honor our mother on a daily basis? Why isn't this an accepted practice?

I will say, this notion comes from my own upbringing as a Jew. The 9th commandment in our statutes says, more or less, to honor your father and mother. The implication is that it does not stop after a holiday, or after you transition home from school. Perhaps it is my Jewishness that keeps me an inquisitor, an anthropologist.

Hand it to Judaism to lay down the guilt complex, and they'll go above and beyond the call.

Though, I now recognize how difficult it is to devote time every day to my mother even though I live with her. We keep to our own agendas-- mine with my volunteer social work/whole foods wage laborer/oral history enthusiast/Judaism/creativity/dialogue work, her with her dog training and care-taking/global health research/home-owner stress/mom of the fam role/modern family addiction. Whenever our calendars coincide, we break out a glass of wine to toast the occasion. As she says, habitually, "us Blooms are people of action," but try as we might, our actions are not always able to focus in on each other. With time, I don't think this busyness will go away, no matter how much I wish it to.

And so I took time this morning to slice the tomatoes, to skin the kiwis, to press her coffee. I'm a giver by nature, and so this comes naturally, and I felt good while I did it, even though my head was also tuned into the resources I had to compile for the facilitation training I'm giving this Tuesday. She told me this was a "bang "of a breakfast. I saw it, instead, as being active in taking care. Maybe next year I'll be able to give the small things every day, but for today, in the unsteadiness of a wanderer's life, I decided to focus deeply on caring for the woman who literally built me into who I am. This will be my celebration this year, and I will set an intention till next Mother's Day to do the small things each day as well.

Perhaps this is also what Mother's Day is beginning to mean to me: take a day to celebrate, to give out, in an effort to replenish for a year of snipetted love.

Regardless, I hope you all had a meaningful day of taking care of your mothers, in whatever context or whatever capacity you were able.

And, perhaps more broadly, here's to the love that we received and continue to receive unconditionally, from the lovers that span our lives. I'm thankful for all of you who give care to me whenever it is possible, and I can't wait to indulge in another year of care-taking and taking care :-)

*It would still be my honor, to be your new stepfather...*