"May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe"

From Mary Oliver -

"Sometimes the desire to be lost again, as long ago, comes over me like a vapor. With growth into adulthood, responsibilities claimed me, so many heavy coats. I didn't choose them, I don't fault them, but it took time to reject them. Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don't keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever upstream. May I look down upon the windflower and the bull thistle and the coreopsis with the greatest respect."

- from Upstream - Selected Essays by Mary Oliver 2016



I love the image of the many heavy coats - the layering of responsibilities building bulk. New layers pulled over old and not quite forgotten cardigans. I imagine what that would feel like - the stiffness of movement, the heat, the weight. We do choose these layers - maybe we aren't aware of what those choices entail or perhaps we can't quite see the choice given our social, cultural coat closet - but those old choices feel like layers that were given to us. Our arms were thrust into their context whether we liked it or not. To fault them is to cling to blame. Blaming solidifies those layers into a foundation of meaning. We grow use to defining ourselves - identifying ourselves - with those many heavy coats even as they weigh us down.

But neither do I reject the responsibilities that have claimed me - I'd rather simply peel off the coats, releasing their strangled hold on who I am right now. All that bulk, each layer seemingly predicated on all the other layers. Stripping them off takes time. I softly release what no longer serves. I run my hand across the textures of fabricated values and beliefs, the meaning I have made of each particular coat - are these truly mine or am I touching the social, familial vision of who I should be and how I should waddle forward, stooped and bound by all those many heavy coats.

Stripping off some layers gives me a sense of my own form. And yet, I am still encased in layers that have yet to be peeled back - some that never will be peeled away and others that will continue to come off as I age and release myself into the care of the universe. But still, a different awareness - to go lose myself in the world, to wander upstream as Mary Oliver writes, continues to help me shed what no longer serves me.

What kind of nail do I want to be, tiny but useful?

Tour Group Junkie I am not…

The Adriatic makes me feel at home

I’m sitting in the last hotel on a long itinerary list that has taken my daughter and I to six countries in 16 days. It’s been a fascinating trip – lots of history, culture, amazing scenery and ... interaction with 24 other members of our tour group.

Other than the guide, we were all Americans and came from every corner of the States in order to travel through the heart of Europe. I would guess that the average age of most of the travelers was over fifty – but we had five teenage girls sprinkled among three families and that kind of messes with the numbers. Most of the adults were professionals from a range of fields – teaching, business, law, medicine, finance. Oh, and one politician – but his wife was a kindergarten teacher so we forgave him.

We had in common a desire to learn, travel and be on time.

The rest of the group had something in common that I didn’t share: they had all traveled extensively on tours like this before. I believe that most everyone had been on a Rick Steve’s tour prior to this one – sometimes four or five – even the teenagers. At the first dinner, listening to them practically wax poetic about these tours got me a little worried.

Because I already knew this whole tour thing was going to be a love/hate relationship from the beginning.

I'm not all that contrary but I think it's safe to say that I'm a fairly independent person (and getting more independent with each passing year). I like to eat what I want to eat, go where I want to go. I like quiet. I don't really like small talk. If you've ever been on a tour somewhere in the world, you're starting to get the picture, right?

I loved the fact that I didn’t have to get out the road maps and find hotels in Poland, Hungary, Slovenia and Croatia. On the other hand, finding your own way around a country is a great way to really connect to the places you are traveling through. That doesn’t really happen when one is on a touring bus, reading a book to pass the time.

I loved having a local guide (A Hungarian gentleman trained as a history teacher) who made all the transfers, travel, tours of sites happen seamlessly. He was smart, funny and very patient with his gaggle of Americans. I really treasured the personal stories that he shared.

I didn’t like the group meals where the decibel levels climbed so high you couldn’t talk to the person next to you. There’s a stereotype about loud Americans – we confirmed it. I don’t think our guide is going to be able to book that last restaurant again in Lake Bled.

Don’t misunderstand; it only takes a few boisterous people to crank up the volume. And for some people, it only takes one drink before they cut loose and get really annoying. For the most part, our touring companions were delightful, easy going and interesting – and it’s pretty much a given that I’ll never see them again. With a few folks, that leaves me conflicted and wistful.

View from Prague Castle

I asked many of my fellow travelers about their past experiences, what they liked, what didn’t work. This was a pretty savvy group of travelers who talked about past tours where most of people were “Rick Steve’s Junkies”.  I didn’t mention that that had been exactly my first impression of this particular group. They talked about groups that didn’t gel – and I wondered what that would look like. Apparently it has to do with at least three single women traveling in the same tour who are rotating roommates with each other or a solo traveler who was a lot more incapacitated then they should have been on an active tour. Issues that screw up a tour group seem to center around member dynamics - not tour logistics - which is magnified by the forced community that is a tour group. I realized how lucky we had gotten with our relatively easy going group. Sure there were some moments when I had to bite my tongue or put my headphones on.  I watched a couple people make complete idiots out of themselves – which I probably did at some point as well. My daughter could probably list off a couple of dozen of those moments so who am I to judge?

I have no complaints about this tour – it was a fabulous learning experience. Touring multiple countries in such a short time serves a purpose and I knew it’s not my preferred way to travel. However, I feel that traveling is necessary to continually come up against my own ignorance and cultural blinders. Walking through a series of countries that were “behind the iron curtain” less than thirty years ago is humbling. Standing on the old railroad tracks at Birkenau is horrifying. 

Travel not only brings history alive but it lets you breathe in the subtle and profound ways our cultural heritages weave together and produce a human cultural heritage that is bigger than any one country, language, religion or belief system.

And that realization, above and beyond anything else that I experienced will keep me traveling this wide world of ours as long as I am able. I might – someday – even do another tour.

 

Politics and Beliefs

I remember when I was much younger how my parents would talk rather stoically about elections and political parties. They talked about how the political culture seemed to swing back and forth depending on what issues were most important at the time.  Thirty years ago, political conversations did not range into the topics they do today. Abortion, gay marriage, immigration, welfare reform, health insurance – these weren’t the topics discussed in my house - not as political issues, anyway. The line between social beliefs and political positions had felt separate.

The funny thing is that I was raised in a republican household and, for the most part, I think the general lesson taught was that politics should not mandate what we consider social services. Rugged individualism defined my parent’s, grandparent’s and great-grandparent’s lives. While my folks certainly supported gay rights and a woman’s right to choose – these were very personal beliefs that were not broadcast anywhere in our community, workplaces or social gatherings.  Politics was the platform for foreign policy and economics, certainly not a national stage to discuss when life begins in the womb – or if a rape victim has a right to abort.

For me, something changed in 1984. I had just spent an amazing week in Dallas – as a youth delegate to the Republican National Convention. I watched Ronald Reagan and his political allies ride a wave of popularity to stunning victory. But something began to become unsettling – I was noticing a trend that disturbed me. On the long bus ride home, fellow students and I read through the party platform, speeches and word bites and it was apparent that being anti-abortion and wanting prayer in school were explicitly linked to the party. Everyone went around stating whether they agreed or disagreed – I was the only one on that bus that disagreed with the party stance on those two issues.

I was asked what the hell I was doing on that bus.

Because I had a dissenting opinion on two social issues.

 I didn’t like that those issues were part of the new party dogma but what I thought was very disturbing was the inability of my peers to respect different beliefs. That level of fanaticism and inability to allow more moderate voices stopped me cold in my tracks. I had been raised, as I’ve explained, in a culture where personal beliefs and values didn’t belong in politics. To watch the Republican Party explicitly adopt a set of beliefs as “right” and “true” was disquieting.  I didn’t know how to explain that to those other kids on the bus – because they were attacking my personal beliefs which I had learned were meant to be held privately.  That September, Newsweek would publish its issue under the title of God and Politics – I wasn’t the only one who was noticing a change in the political climate.

That’s my story with one party and I could speak to dogma on the “left” side of the aisle that is just as polarizing and gives me pause. (*When I talked to Andy about this, he wanted me to give an example of liberal righteous story-making and I said “if republicans win, they will destroy the planet.” He looked at me for a long moment and then said he thought that example worked.)

It is still my natural inclination to not engage in political chitchat because it rarely comes in the shape of real dialogue or curiosity. Dialogue asks us to set our “truths” aside, be willing to learn from others, manage our fear and anxiety as our paradigms are challenged, and see if something new can emerge. I didn’t learn about that in my family – God no – but it’s become a lot more important to me as I’ve gotten older. And when it comes to politics, I have rarely found any person who wants to understand what I think as opposed to telling me what they think.

Now, social concerns, religious doctrine, and belief systems dominate our political conversations. Our basic philosophical and personal values get wrapped up into those debates. Today’s political dogma – on both sides of the party line – is drenched in deeply polarized value sets. We’ve ended up building our political identities on top of our personal, fundamental values – to challenge the former is to challenge everything regarding the later. This is hardly new and yet, is it possible, as we begin to truly understand that we are a country of different religions, ethnic backgrounds, geographical cultures, levels of privilege and wealth, that we are witnessing a painful unraveling of how we have thought of ourselves as a nation of people? We may be finally letting it sink in that the USA is truly the melting pot of the world.

I looked at the electoral college map Tuesday night and I felt my heart go out to all the people in the Midwest and the South – because I knew they were looking at that same map and watching how the northeast and the west coast carried the election away from their candidate. Especially in states like Wyoming and Utah where almost 70% voted for the other guy. Space and territory doesn’t mandate power in this country – population density does. But the image is still visceral in terms of culture and identity.

And now I vote according to my personal belief system regarding social and environmental issues as opposed to issues like fiscal responsibility, foreign policy, state’s rights and other issues where I am fairly moderate. I do this because I also have come to identify my values with fears about losing certain freedoms.

 Just like everyone else out there.

I voted for the guy most likely to protect what I value.

And maybe that’s what my parents did all those years ago – I was just too young to understand.