Love is All Around Me?

Have you read William Carlos Williams' (1883-1963) short story, "A Use of Force"? Williams was a medical doctor who specialized in pediatrics in Rutherford, New Jersey and who also maintained a highly successful writing career. In this particular story, he seems to address that hidden facet of human behavior, violence, that lies dormant until the appropriate circumstances bring it out. In brief, during a house visit a doctor feels forced open the mouth of a defiant little girl in order to diagnose diphtheria. Naturally, it is expected that a doctor would do everything in his power to save the patient from further pain and perhaps death; however, he honestly reveals his thoughts during the situation. Since Williams is a doctor and the fictional story is about a doctor's experience, the reader starts thinking that the story is true, which makes it all the more impacting. When the girl stubbornly refuses to open her mouth and physically prevents the examination, the narrator-doctor reveals the following confessional thoughts, " But the worst of it was that I too had got beyond reason. I could have torn the child apart in my own fury and enjoyed it. It was a pleasure to attack her. My face was burning with it." You may wonder, is the doctor a bad person? I think, no, anger is the real culprit.

I'm working my way over to this morning's traffic jam, or tapon as it is commonly called in Puerto Rico. Some people are angry. Some good people are terribly angry. This anger causes them to pull out of the lane, pass on the emergency lane and then enter the lane again a bit further down the road. This impulsively impatient behavior causes other drivers who are suffering from the "I'm late and I'm not going to take it anymore" syndrome, to repeat the offence. Horns blow. Hand's fly heavenward with oxymoronic intention. Road Rage. It's pure and simple. I bought a CD, Road Sage by Sylvia Boorstein, to listen to while driving. It provides mindfulness techniques for drivers, which I have yet to successfully share with my carpool buddy. I'm sure that it is helpful. It's just that the information on breathing and focusing and such, is not what people are drawn to do in congested traffic situations. Besides, if you meditate, you probably already practice mindfulness or another focus technique during traffic jams. If you don't have a practice, it's difficult to learn (or want to learn) while under rage's grip. How can I share this information? At other more peaceful driving times, it's just not a compelling CD listen. Anti-rage instruction or the radio? Hummm...which to choose? I have hit load and play in an attempt to give Silvia a fighting chance only to be assaulted by a chorus of moans and cries, especially from the back seats, "Mommmmm." What can I do?

I may have misrepresented the situation, after all, this is Puerto Rico, La Isla del Encanto. This beautiful island of enchantment has an interesting mix of cultural behaviors. One driver may be enraged but several others are applying eye makeup, adjusting their carefully groomed hair, dialing a phone number... or sending a text message, stopping in the traffic lane to buy a La Hora newspaper, pink or blue cotton candy, avocados, or dripping wet bottled water. Or dropping a passenger off, especially if you are near a school. Or maybe the driver is turning around to talk with the person in the back, or reaching over to the glove compartment and so on. Maybe a motor scooter will speedily drive between and around the slow cars or, conversely, a distressingly sick person will be negotiating a wheelchair between the lanes, pausing at car windows with a lifted paper cup. The point being that it is quite common for the waiting drivers to be highly distracted. Sometimes drivers are patient, beyond patient- it's true- even when the hold up is caused by those who are adapting to the traffic jam as with the preceding attention diverting strategies. At other times, the entire congested beehive bursts open and many suffer the stinging consequences of an accident (fender-bender) and the resulting interminable wait for the police to arrive in order to make an accident report. It makes me think about why we are able to control ourselves under great stress sometimes, while at other times we completely lose it. Anger is the boss. To be or not to be-angry- that is the question. I read a most helpful monk's behavior principle to be practice while on retreat. I think it's helpful during traffic jams or any other type of anger provoking situation. It is: "Do not complete your anger." The way I interpret the meaning of this tenant is that even when you feel angry, at some point you will recognize your state, and that is when you have the opportunity to let go, to not complete or follow through with angry intentions, angry words, angry thoughts. Maybe you could visualize El Yunque (pictured here in free downloads) and see yourself sitting next to the waterfall while enjoying a peaceful picnic.

And if you need to move your mind to another point of attention, why not remember the scene from the movie, Love Actually, where we have to laugh and empathize with this has been rock star singing, "Love is All Around Me." No, that is "Christmas is all around me"...that's right...it's Christmas...the word that is ...I know Christmas is over.

Bill Nighy (pronounced as Bill Nye -like the science guy-2007)

Photo from wikipedia

Parents and those with gentle sensibilities be warned, you will encounter Billy Mack's profuse (perhaps eloquent?) stream of swearing in the following YouTube video.




Photo: William Carlos Williams 1926 from linked site.

An Award

Hi friends, The Pink Cowboy has given me tremendous praise (and his excellent friendship) along with this cute Scribbler award. Naturally, there are some rules I just might bring over from his post. I get to name five other deserving bloggers who not only are worth reading but also bring their sweet natured yet powerfully potent hearts to all of their creative work. (Yes, I've adapted the criteria but you can select according to the rules below if you want! Also, if someone seemed as if they had too much blogging work to do, I gave them a break)

And the winners are...envelope please...:




The warm natured insightful dancer, Catherine at A Thousand Clapping Hands



The inspirational and clever artist Dianne at Intuitive Painting



My new beautiful sunshine connoisseur friend Marie Isabelle Reed at Cpaphil Vintage Postcards



The dear busy, funny and creative, Natalie at Musings from the Deep



The creative and brilliant dreamer, Mary Ann at Blue Sky Dreaming



Here are the rules I copy/pasted from The Pink Cowboy:



(Sorry if they are a bit bossy....just do your best!)



RULES:
You must pass along this award to five (5) others who I have found to be thoughtful, creative, and most importantly, entertaining. ;
1. Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends. 2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
3. Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to Scholastic-Scribe, which explains The Award.
4. Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receive
this Prestigious Honor.
5. Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

Ouch! What a difference a place makes...

What did I need? A sign?

I fell into a hole yesterday. I'm exaggerating, really, it was just a broken place in the sidewalk but I had a flash of insight, which is why I' m writing about it here. The fall was accompanied by one of those deja vu (familiar and unpleasant) experiences where an event seems to be repeated but the second time it happens, you realize that your reaction is completely different. The first time I fell into a hole occurred after moving into a new house in Puerto Rico when I was ready to return to my morning jogging/walking routine. Early one day, I was following my bliss and turned down a quiet tropical side street.

I noticed a large Victorian house to my right that was set in the middle of a lush green yard filled with slightly overgrown but cultivated plants. (It looked like this photo of a sub-tropical Victorian home in Springfield, Georgia.) My mind, still thinking about the possible residents of this romantic looking early 20th century home, was jarred by the view of a new condominium building project. Reflecting about the possible demolition of the entire area, I was suddenly almost knee deep in a small hole. While the sensation of a burning pain started to shock my system, I realized that the accident happened because someone did not replace a cover. The metal oval cutout, which looked like a miniature manhole cover, was suppose to fit in the sidewalk. It was part of the local water meter system. As I painfully replaced the metal piece over the gaping hole, I became increasingly angry. While limping home, I indignantly, thought of the irresponsible person who left the cover off. "How dare they just leave a trap for someone to fall in! In the states, the water company would be sued or someone would be held accountable for this irresponsible slovenly work." Of course later, I realized that sometimes people who are not employed by the government, take off the water covers to tamper with the meter readings. I also discovered that heavy rain damages the cement and frequently the covers do not fit properly. Consequently, a foot trap could be made even though the water gage seems to be safe and covered.

Another confession, sometimes, when I was younger, I was told that I had my head in the clouds and this was supported by incidental facts. Once while driving on the scenic panoramic route on California's coastal highway 1, I was so captivated and excited by the view that I nearly drove off the cliff! Talk about entering the moment! Yesterday, I fell into a little hole, a broken place in the sidewalk, really, and I did not get injured.

Thinking now, I remember that I had sprained my ankle exactly twice in my life, and I had to be rushed to the emergency room. The first incident happened because I was riding on the butterfly handlebars of a new pink Schwinn bike that my younger brother was steering. (I was twelve.) I was thrilled with the fun loving ride until my foot got caught in the spokes of the front wheel. The second time, was when I was sitting on the wheel cover of the tractor my father was driving and, again, my foot got caught in the wheel. It was a much bigger wheel this time and considerably more frightening! (I was still twelve.) In both incidents, I remember the face of the driver, my brother and my dad, looking pained and guilty. I confess, I felt seriously sorry for myself both times.

Yesterday's incident repeatedly returns to my mind because of my difference in thought. Immediately after falling, I thought, "Watch more carefully, next time. You have to notice where you are placing your foot." (Of course, I didn't feel pain for long this time either.) What am I saying here? First, another story...

When I moved to Puerto Rico, my department director patiently listened to my complaints about the rule breaking Puerto Rican population. I am a bit ashamed to admit to it now but it bothered me that people would park their cars everywhere and sometimes even block my car from leaving because of double parking. People would park on the sidewalks and if there was space enough, they would park in the middle lane between parking spaces; worse yet, after the first transgressor, cars would line up there, too, creating a middle lane behind the legally parked vehicles. My director patiently listened to my frustration and explanation about being late to class because I was trapped and say, "Yes, this is a small island." I was supposed to infer that people didn't have a choice but to break the rules. Since then, I've learned that these rule are flexible and subject to interpretation by the drivers. Basically, if you're willing to get a possible but rarely given ticket, it's acceptable to break the law because there is no where to legally park. After all, whose fault is it?

Yesterday, I fell in a hole and I realized my orientation had changed. I no longer took it for granted that people would do their duty and repair what is broken. I accepted that I needed to look out for myself in this life. I know I can't prevent every incident from occurring but I noticed that I have accepted responsibility for my own well being. Before I fell yesterday, I didn't even know that I expected others to look out for me or that I would nurse resentment about other people's shortcomings. I realized that thinking and focusing on someone's behavior (rather than my own) resulted in my victimization. It is only because of being so completely immersed in another culture that I can see my own cultural beliefs about how life is suppose to function. This statement about belief is not to say that everyone in my home culture would think exactly the way I do (or did that is.) Also, I am not saying that the Puerto Rican culture is a behavioral model to emulate. I am just saying that when you are pressured to think about what you take for granted, some valuable insight can be gained.

Now dear Blogger friends, here is Cher before all of her cosmetic improvements (-sorry Cher but it's okay to show your age a little bit) singing the romantic classic, What a Difference a Day Makes, which is the song I kept hearing while drafting this reflection. What does that lyric have to do with what I'm thinking about? Maybe my mind made the simple adjustment I'm recommending to you, just change the word "day" to "place" and I think we almost have a thematic fit. ;-)

An Inaugral Blessing

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;

Where words come out from the depth of truth;

Where tireless striving stretches its arms toward perfection;

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;

Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever widening thought and action;

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Rabindranath Tagore


And may I also add that I absolutely love reconciliations!

My daughter was attending a National Young Leaders Conference in Washington DC on the exact day of the 2008 elections. We were both adjusting to Hillary Clinton's primary loss but happy that an exceptional candidate was selected by the Democratic party. I was so please that my daughter could be in Washington for that historical election! It was a right of passage for her and for the United States. The weight shifted from a burdened past to a hopeful future. With a friendly conciliatory spirit in mind, let us take a light-hearted look at the WAR classic, "Why can't we be friends," this time as interpreted by the politically incorrect (?) Smash Mouth:

Photo of B & H by Win McNamee/Getty Images *** Local Caption *** Barack Obama; Hillary Clinton. From Google/April 23, 2008.

Interview Link to The Pink Cowboy

Hi blogger friends, as you know the interview circuit is still going around. Isn't it fun to find out about each other? The Pink Cowboy has given me the most interesting interview. Cross over from Puerto Rico to Texas and read about his bi-cultural experience!



Vancouver bridge photo courtesy of AP service and yahoo news.

An Interview with Cynthia Pittmann by the Novelist, Elizabeth Wix

On a Sunday afternoon, with the TV blaring "We Were Soldiers" in the background, Elizabeth Wix, author of "The Three Graces" and presiding head of About New York blog had a blogger's conversation with Cynthia...






Elizabeth: While you are in Puerto Rico, what things do you miss about the US mainland? - and vice versa.

Cynthia: The first thought that springs to my mind is freedom to walk. I love Puerto Rico but because it is a Latin society, though influenced by the United States, some gender traditions are hard to break. Why does it communicate that I'm "available" if I walk alone on the streets? When I lived in town, I counted all of the "incidents" I suffered through because of walking alone. On average, one harsh event a month for thirteen months in a row. I decided to be more careful, to change my walking habit if you will. I decided to make myself walk in protected/controlled areas. Don't you miss so many things when you leave some place? I miss Michigan for the soil and earth, and the extroverted straightforward people. I miss California because of the space, freedom to explore and general acceptance of difference. I miss Tennessee because of the way people value books and the "craft of making" out of anything that's handy. When I live in the country in Puerto Rico instead of the city, I miss the coffee house feel of local bakeries, the accessibility to art galleries, historical locations, the beach, and the theatre/music scene. With every positive choice, I have to accept that it is also a turning away from other possible choices. Living in the country now, I have freedom to have animals, garden, and lots of space but I also have to drive into the city every work day and take care of many things. It's like I live a double life; there's the 'country me' and the 'city me'. I'm on vacation now so the 'country me' is showing, I think my posts will change when I return to the chaos.

Elizabeth: What three books do you think have influenced you most as a writer and as a person?


Cynthia: I'm not going to choose the best books, or my favorite books or even books that I enjoyed, necessarily. I don't think a book has to fulfill these requirements to be personally influential. I'm looking at myself up-close after having read these three books a long time ago and my focus on life-impact brings my attention to these books. Another selection consideration is that a book does not have to be well written to make an impact because sometimes it's a matter of perfect timing. Consequently, the books that present themselves to my mind at this moment are: The Communication of Innovation; A Cross-Cultural Approach (Everett Rogers and F. Floyd Shoemaker), and At the Bottom of the River (Jamaica Kincaid) and Writing Down the Bones (Natalie Goldberg).

The first book is a communication research study on how people change, e.g what makes someone from another country go against custom and accept a water treatment method if they don't believe in the findings of health study research? I read this book from cover to cover. I memorized the research data, and understood two important terms "change agent" and "opinion leader." (A "change agent" is the person who tries to introduce positive change and an "opinion leader" is someone who is from your own community that you trust to judge in situations where you lack expertise. Change agents must rely on opinion leaders in order to help communities.) It was practical research for someone who ponders how to make a difference in the world and it inspired me to continue on to graduate school where I majored in communication. The Jamaica Kincaid book of prose poetry made me decide that my own poetry and prose might be okay even though it didn't always follow traditional models, and helped me to decide that I wanted to continue my English literary education in something that focused on "minority" literature. I discovered that the only way for me to study literature was comparatively, i.e. there is no need to avoid traditional literature. Natalie Goldberg provided me with a private writing technique, which combined meditation practice with writing practice. I needed to learn to write without being concerned about results. This book is organized in short chapters that are built around an autobiographically based story, which often ends up suggesting a writing activity. I use this casual but intense approach to writing because it pushes me on to the next page or the next writing project.

Elizabeth: If you could magically acquire a new skill/characteristic or talent what would it be?

Cynthia: I would love to trust life. I know many people feel a normal confidence in life but I'm talking about a particular kind of trust, more like a complete letting go combined with secure action. Years ago, I had a near-death experience where I felt completely at ease, peaceful and so utterly well (words don't describe the feeling). Since that time, I know that I have a great distance to go before I feel that in ordinary everyday life. I'm not talking about a religious experience, but maybe a spiritual experience. I just knew that all was well. Briefly, I had a car accident. When the car started rolling, I tried to control its spin, but I couldn't because the steering wheel would have broken my arms if I grabbed hold of it. I felt complete terror, more than I'd ever known before or since. Suddenly, I had the thought, "It's out of my hands." (literally and figuratively!) With this realization an incredible peace flooded me. As I watched the rest of the accident unfold, I knew that whatever happened, I would be fine with the outcome. Now that I know complete freedom from anxiety, I yearn for that peace every day of my life.

Elizabeth:You have an afternoon all to yourself -no chores or obligations -How would you spend it?

Cynthia: I think I'll bore others by answering this question. I could invent something but it wouldn't be true. Okay, I would listen to music, do some hatha yoga, light a candle and write. Which is what I do anyway, even if there is no time. I might vary the activities a little because I read so much that I even forgot to mention it. Maybe I should paint, take up photography, or enroll in singing lessons? My blogger friends are starting to inspire me...

Elizabeth: You have $1000 to give away. To whom would you give it?

Cynthia: Another tough question...one thousand dollars is not a lot of money and it's a one time give away, right? When we first moved to Puerto Rico, I was painfully distressed about the homeless people. I tried to do what I could. I got to know one such man, Hector, who was living on the streets near my apartment by the beach. He would ask me for money sometimes, or clothes, or batteries. He started coming to my window and calling "Misse, Misse" at all hours. I told him to wait until I was outside before he made requests. He wanted earphones for a CD player but the player was broken. He couldn't understand that earphones wouldn't make him be able to hear sound. While out for a walk, I saw that he was sitting near the dumpster by the Orchid Palace drinking orange juice and gin/vodka/whisky(?); he hid it from me. He started calling me "jefa" (boss lady) and it started to feel like an overly dependant relationship. I was helping to make his life worse. I felt troubled. Now, I'm trying to help with the stray dog problem here in Puerto Rico. But the animals need so much care, and our environment can only handle so many dogs. Between the injections, neutering, medication for health conditions, it cost so much more than a thousand dollars. And then there is the problem of violence expressed in hate crimes and war...and what about the world hunger problem?

I assign my students research projects on the homeless, animal abuse, violence and poverty and they come up with the most insightful ideas. Plus, they have the added advantage of youthful hope and willpower to accomplish difficult tasks so I feel I'm helping in some way to inspire positive change through these assignments. Consequently, I think if I had a thousand dollars, I would give it in a scholarship to a student who has the will to study but not the means. Maybe I would call it the "Practice Peace" or the "Pondering Paradox" or the "Will to Change" scholarship. (Okay, I'm free associating with the title but you get the idea.) It won't pay for much but the gesture would let that student know that someone cares if she/he finishes and would notice her/his contributions to our world.

Cynthia: Elizabeth, thank you for your excellent and provocative questions.



***************************************************************************

Getting to Know You; An Invitation



Elizabeth was interviewed by willow, if you would like to be interviewed by me please leave a comment here. I'll write the questions and email them to you. You post a link to my name and Elizabeth, and then invite others to be interviewed. I enjoyed thinking about these questions and I will try to come up with good questions for you as well!






Logo from Conversation Cafe

A Father's Song

"Hello" Performed by Eddie Villanueva








I just love the way people in Puerto Rico include children in all aspects of life; children are not instructed to be "seen but not heard." They're not kept away from the everyday work world of their parents. When we moved here to Puerto Rico, I was struck by the fact that I frequently saw children at work with their parents. My husband and I even had our children around at the university office, occasionally. When I worked in the States, I had to downplay that I was a mother or else I wouldn't have been taken seriously. I couldn't hide my parental concerns, and so I just tried harder to prove myself. In the video above, PR blogger friend, Passion4blue sings, "Hello" while his baby daughter putters around...so sweet. No impatience. So inclusive. So Puerto Rican.