Grrrrrrrrr

I am a reluctant fan of Pawn Stars. The episode with the ICBM, err, Space Ship launch keys had me laughing out loud.

Damn.

Open letter to Rachel and Keith

For Rachel,

Run, Rachel, run!

For Keith,

Please, be careful. Watch your tone.

For my dear friends on the left:

Let's pay a lot less attention to the negatives and cover what we are doing, in detail. Please, educate us. Please.

Breaking out the hankies . . .

Goodness, once again I have failed to write for a while. In my defense let me describe what has been going on with me. Since my last post, I've:

• been house/multiple cat/dog sitting for a friend who we will call Jane.
  
• moved completely out of Jane's house into my own apartment.
  
• caught, with my bare hands (like a grizzly bear catching salmon), Jane's escaped-recently-rescued feral cat so that I didn't have to make the trek every day to feed the G.D. critter.
  
• received, in the process, multiple cat bites and scratches all over my arms and legs. (If that cat thought I was going to let go, no matter how many times he bit me (as I knew this would be last chance to catch him since I had, just seconds before, decided to pounce on him), well, *phhh*, he just had another thing coming.)
  
• been to the doctor and am in the process of taking a strong course of anti-biotics to prevent me from dying from the infection that results from being bitten multiple times by a feral cat with a broken, diseased tooth.
• decided to never, ever, catch a feral cat with my bare hands.
  
• further decided that I have to be the biggest damn fool in the world.
• subsequently fell in love with said, completely adorable, cat.
  
• have also had the flu.
• am now in my new apartment, studying hard for my big test on August 1
• bhah blah blah.

But, no, I haven't been motivated to get my duff off the couch to whine about my problems. Oh, no, what truly moved me this morning was to learn that George W. Bush is "besieged and isolated, yet at ease." In a truly heart-wrenching article in the Washington Post, subtitled "Bush, Grasping for Answers and Fixated on Iraq, Remains Resolute," the Post article describes in glorious detail how Bush is "coping" with his unpopularity. Yes, well, even the subtitle of this little gem is very profound. I would hope that someone in a position of such importance would have grasped some of the answers before becoming resolute. But, then, what do I know.

I take real inspiration from this man who "exhibits an inexorable upbeat energy" although he "remains largely locked inside the fortress of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave." Goodness, my heart stirs just thinking of his strength. Here is a man, who at the very "nadir of his presidency" (I must have blinked and missed the zenith), has the courage to ask, "Why does the rest of the world seem to hate America? Or is it just me they hate?" "Not generally known for intellectual curiosity, Bush is seeking out those who are." "Over sodas and sparkling water, he asks his questions."

"Burdened by an unrelenting war, challenged by an opposition Congress, defeated just last week on immigration, his last major domestic priority," and, still, Bush has the courage to ask, "Is it just me they hate?"

I'm also deeply amazed to learn how grounded he is in the midst of his troubles. "He feels he's doing what he needs to do, and he seems to me at peace with himself." "Bush has virtually given up on winning converts while in office and instead is counting on vindication after he is dead." And I'm not alone in my amazement. "'You don't get any feeling of somebody crouching down in the bunker,' said Irwin M. Stelzer, a senior fellow at the Hudson Institute who was part of one group of scholars who met with Bush. 'This is either extraordinary self-confidence or out of touch with reality. I can't tell you which.'"

Yes, well, I think I know. . .

The Dummy is back . . .

My dear, dear Friends.

I apologize that the Dummy has been missing for almost a year now. Here is a little post by way of explanation.

After the retreat last summer, the Dummy had such a hard "crash" that it has taken a year to put her back together. There simply wasn't enough Dummy in one piece to make any post at all.

Then, again, that's what Dummies are for. Dummies fall apart because they face really tough situations. They are useful that way.

I am happy to report that the situation has greatly improved for the Dummy. She has just completed a three month odyssey, traveling all across this nation to visit her loved ones. You can see her here, before her reconstruction was complete, surrounded by her friends as they offer her their support, hospitality and love. This week, she returned home, has been gently refurbished and is ready for service. The Dummy has a completely new living situation, is training for a new job and is feeling much better now.

Thanks for stopping by and for all the comments I have received. I'm so pleased to announce that the Dummy is back and looks forward to being in touch again. See you soon. . . .

One of those mysteries . . .

So things are going along swimmingly between _________ and I. Then she shows up a couple of weekends ago with all sorts of attitude. She didn't like the way I was taking care of my cat. She asked me to find homes for some tomato plants grown from seed by one of her friends. Ok (not sure why I was chosen for this task). But then she didn't like the sign I made (Free Tomato Plants). She asked if she couldn't keep the sign she made. Sure, said I. I just put both signs on them.

Then I found some people to take the plants and she came up to me and wanted to emphasis that these plants had been grown from seed.

Jeez. These were very special plants. I just suck at giving out special tomato plants. Always have.

Our little fledgling friendship seems to have taken a dive.

First of all, she has major issues with cats. She doesn't think anyone takes care of animals as well as she does. In fact, she recently had to go on a trip and was faced with leaving her very sick, dying cat in the care of someone who didn't measure up to her standards (he would have done fine, I'm sure). Her solution? She euthanized the animal. She would rather the animal be dead than be taken care of by anyone else.

This isn't any comment on euthanization, one way or another. It's just to point out some very hard opinion in her. Dead cat is preferred over a cat being taken care of by someone else.

So now there is pain, this sadness in the air.

I have to go back to the touchstone--to the realization that there's no need to hate mistakes or the people who make them. I also don't have to hate people who hate me. She and I, we're not going to be friends. I can see it isn't going to work out in that way. But I can love her and let things come and go between us in a gentle way. No demands, no expectation, just bright acceptance and awareness of what is real and what is not.

Stupid Human Behavior Number 564:

Doubting Oneself.

Yes, so that woman came here and stayed. How did it go? How shall I say it? It was as it always was (and will continue to be, I guess). I've been thinking the matter over. Really, she is a bully. She finds some vulnerable part of one's psyche and then she niggles it over and over again. Another point: she will be telling a story and only at the end does she relate it back to you and how your coping with life or your decisions. It was the same this time.

I think what was different this visit was that I had really held the whole situation in my heart. I was much more prepared. As it was happening, I thought of the movie The Matrix, at the part where the bullets of his opponent hang in mid-air and Neo just reaches out and, with his hand tracing a graceful arch, knocks them to the floor. Each bullet hits the ground with a little ting.

So she and I were sitting at the kitchen table and the conversation began. And sure enough, here came the little verbal bullets. I just watched them come, held them in my heart with as much compassion as I could and let them hang there until the fell to the floor. Pretty soon some more just came. O well.

From my research on the 'net, looks like bullies find people who have some vulnerablity and exploit that to cause suffering. She can smell my self-doubt a mile away and I make an easy target.

I did, that is. But things are beginning to change and I felt close to nothing as she sat there lobbing her unkindness in my direction. What unhappiness there must be to act that way towards anyone.

So off she went after a couple of days, back to her home, where she recreates this walled-in universe wherever she goes. I offer her my best intentions. May she come to know the love I have known. May she feel less threatened by her own stupid human behaviors and may she know real peace.

Stupid Human Behavior Number 563:

Start listing your stupid human behaviors online. People will want more of that. ; )

Which raises the question: Could I come up with at least 563 stupid things I've done. O yeah and counting.

An update about that visit is coming next . . .

Ground rules for really listening to someone:

• no fixing
  
• no saving
  
• no advising
  
• no setting each other straight

From A Hidden Wholeness : The Journey Toward an Undivided Life by Parker Palmer

Stupid Human Behavior Number 562

Someone whom I really don't like is coming to spend a couple of nights here.

Now if I were dwelling in the Animal Kingdom, what would I do? When this pompous ass showed up here I would snarl, revealing my long fangs and swat at the intruder with my bared claws. What an awful hiss I would make. If only . . .

Alas, as a human I was born. Worse. I have Southern karma. So how am I choosing to spend this beautiful day. I'm scrubbing everything in sight. I've done one bathroom and the guest room. I've got to buy groceries, mow the lawns, clean the fridge, do laundry and ironing. My ankle hurts and I'm in a rotten mood.

What struck me as I was bent over the bath tub with green meanie in hand (OK it needed to be cleaned anyway) was how bizarre my behavior is. If one of my dear loved ones were coming here, would I be lifting even a finger? Nope. So someone who I don't like is getting all of this special treatment and my loved ones get nothing. It occurred to me to remember that when I'm doing something with someone I love. Let me give a little more of myself.

How truly stupid I am. I'd love to write more but I've got to go clean . . .