Lift Up Your Hearts!

By now you’re tired of hearing me say this, but you won’t believe…

…the things one couldn’t do without a Y chromosome when I was growing up.

My own parents were great—and a bit ahead of their time—at encouraging me not to be fenced in by my sex.  I had backhoes and construction sets as well as dolls for toys.  I was encouraged to climb trees—and mountains.   But society at large was still severely restrictive.

In sixth grade I expressed the wish to be an astronaut, and was emphatically told by my (male) teacher that girls could never be astronauts, because all astronauts had to be test pilots, and test pilots were only men.  (Take that, Sally Ride!) (More)

I am of the last generation to know what life was like before pocket calculators.  Even that name is revealing; who calls them that anymore?  Who remembers when “adding machines” were big, clunky things like typewriters?  (Have you seen a typewriter outside of a museum or an old movie?)

I remember my parents doing their taxes with a nifty little plastic device with a set of numbered dials like a telephone.  (Uh, who remembers dial phones?)  There was a 1’s dial, a 10’s dial, a 100’s dial, etc. and you used a stylus to turn them to the correct numbers.  You could add and subtract by turning the dials clockwise or counterclockwise.  The device was handy for checking all those tax numbers, and lots of fun for me when I could get my hands on it.

As a science major in college, I had many tedious calculations to do, and often found it worthwhile to make a trek through the cold and snowy winter night to use one of the half dozen Wang calculators made available to students by the physics department.

When I graduated from college, I received a thrilling (and expensive) gift:  A Texas Instruments SR-10 calculator!  It was especially cool because it handled scientific notation.  Take a look at the keyboard and note that it did a whole lot less than the calculators you can buy today for $10 at your friendly neighborhood Walmart.  The last time I visited the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, I found my wonderful graduation present on display amongst the other relics.

I firmly believe that everyone should know how to do basic arithmetic functions easily and quickly, and think it’s deplorable that we have cashiers who can’t make change without a register to do the calculations.  I’ve never forgotten Isaac Asimov’s prescient story, The Feeling of Power (1958).

I also believe that everyone should know how to make bread, but that doesn’t stop me from being thankful to be able to buy bread at the store.

Thus, without apology, I am thankful for the handy, portable, convenient, powerful, inexpensive, labor-saving pocket calculator.

When I was young there was no such thing as recycling, per se.  We still produced a whole lot less trash than the average family today, because we had a whole lot less stuff, and what we had was often reused (e.g. milk bottles).  Food scraps went, not into the trash or down the sink, but into a compost pile in the back yard, where hardworking worms and bugs and microbes recycled it their own way into fertile soil.

Times changed.  Almost without being aware of it we had become a disposable society, and our piles of trash grew.  And grew.  Newspapers could be recycled—indeed, one could make good money by collecting people’s old papers and taking them to the paper plant.  But metal, glass, and the ubiquitous varieties of plastic went straight to the landfill. (More)

Think “reproductive freedom” and what comes to mind?  Birth control?  Abortion-on-demand?  The freedom, in short, not to reproduce while indulging in the activity specifically designed for reproduction?

What I’m thankful for is the inverse.

My generation grew up in the days of Ehrlich’s The Population Bomb and fears that the world would outgrow its food supply by the mid-1980s.  It was seriously suggested that giving aid to distressed peoples was morally wrong, on the grounds that helping them now would only enable them to reproduce and then more people would starve to death later. (More)

Overall, society has become much ruder, cruder, and lewder than it was 50, or even 25, years ago.  But sexual harassment, if hardly a thing of the past, is at least—like smoking—generally disapproved of, and the woman on the receiving end of a “friendly” pat on the rear from her boss or suggestive remarks from her co-workers now has legal recourse.  In the past, enduring such treatment was often considered as much a part of the job as making coffee.  (On a personal note, I worked with great people and did not have this kind of problem myself.  I didn’t make the coffee, either.)

Maybe we’ve gone too far in enforcing the new rules—suspending a kindergartener for kissing a classmate comes to mind—but for the most part they are in place because they are necessary.  I’m thankful for this civility.

It’s okay—it’s good—to be thankful for small things, too.  It may not be an earthshaking improvement, but I’m thankful for digital cameras.  One key to taking good photographs is taking lots of photographs, and in times past only the professional could afford to do so.  Now anyone can.

Digital cameras are also great for children.  Instant feedback is so much more satisfying than waiting to finish the roll of film so it could be developed—and not wanting to waste any pictures because film + developing = a lot of money.  Now there are cameras that let the youngest learn to take good photographs.

What’s more, good cameras—even video cameras—are small enough to carry in a purse.  A small purse!  Our first video camera was a huge monster that took full-sized VHS tapes.

Organizing photos into albums has never been easier, and there are so many more wonderful things you can do to present them.  On the other hand, having so many more pictures and options makes more work, even if the work is easier.

But that’s a minor quibble.  I love my tiny, handy, good-quality digital camera!

There’s no doubt the sociological upheavals caused by the so-called Women’s Liberation Movement have done much harm, but one great thing to come out of that time is a greater closeness between fathers and their children. 

My father was always actively involved with his children—unusually so for that generation, I believe—even before my mother’s early death forced him to take on double parenting duty.  And yet in his journals of our early years he always refers to the times my mother was not at home as times when he was “babysitting the children.”  No one I know with young children in this century would even think such a thought, much less express it.  How can one “babysit” one’s own child? (More)

It’s quite possible that the environment we live in is in worse shape now than 50 years ago, especially in places like China and Africa.  But here, now, it looks, tastes, and smells a lot better.  And not just because fewer people are smoking.

I remember when the Cuyahoga River caught on fire, and when it was said you could develop film in the Genesee downstream from the Kodak factory.  My father worked for General Electric in Schenectady, and used to say that they returned the water to the Mohawk cleaner than it was when they took it out, which was no doubt true but should not be taken as an endorsement of the effluent.

The air in Pittsburgh was so full of smoke and particulates that when the Church of the Ascension expanded, they used black stone in order to match the soot-darkened original.

Automobile exhaust was something awful.  It’s not nice even now to walk or bike along a road full of cars, but nothing like what it was before pollution controls.

I even remember when the Freihofer bread delivery truck was horse-drawn, and you can guess what that did to the streets.  (But I loved to sit on our porch and watch it pass by!)

Environmentally, this is not a secure time to be living.   What’s more, I know that the improvements to our air and water quality are only partly because of pollution control laws.  Pittsburgh is a clean, breathable city because they no longer make steel in the home of the Steelers.  We have outsourced and off-shored our pollution as well as our jobs.

But when it comes to breathing and drinking, I’m thankful for today.

This post could also be viewed as a mere excuse for sharing my favorite Tom Lehrer song of that era.

Into the Silent Land:  A Guide to the Christian Practice of Contemplation , by Martin Laird  (Oxford University Press, 2006)

The physical benefits of meditative techniques are well established, and I’d like to be able to take advantage of them.  What has hindered me is that many—though not all—of the studies have focused on Transcendental Meditation (TM), the Eastern religious aspects of which have led me to keep meditation in general at arm’s length since I first learned of it some 40 years ago.  It will not do to gain a physical benefit at a spiritual loss—I can’t help thinking of The Magician’s Nephew, in which Digory was tempted to steal an apple that would have cured his dying mother, but if he had done so, both he and his mother would have later “looked back and said it would have been better to die in that illness.”

Yet Digory, having passed the test, was eventually given another apple, one that healed his mother in the right way. (More)

What would today be without being thankful for our veterans, and all who work and sacrifice to protect the rest of us?

In the spirit of the Good New Days, I’m also thankful for our all-volunteer military.  The military draft cast a long, difficult, and painful shadow on life in the 1960s and 70s.  In that respect it is much better to be young today.  A career in the armed services can be a very good choice—but it should be just that, a choice.  It’s better for families, for society, and for the military as well.

Thinking in Pictures:  And Other Reports from My Life with Autism, by Temple Grandin (Vintage, 2006) (Expanded from the original 1995 version)

I’ve already written about Temple Grandin, the movie, which was the inspiration for getting this book from the library.  It’s well worth reading, and the only reason I’m sending back unread the two other books of hers I picked up at the same time is that I realized I must put the brakes on my reading for a while.  At the very least I need to substitute books I won’t be tempted to review. 

Thinking in Pictures would have convinced me, if Grandin’s own commentary on the DVD had not, that the movie is an accurate, if not perfect, portrayal of her life.  It’s fascinating to read about autism from the inside out, as it were, and also interesting to note her opinion that for all the advances we have made in understanding autism and Asperger’s syndrome, as a child in the 1950’s she had a few advantages over today’s children.  School classrooms were well-ordered and quiet; the noise and chaos often seen classrooms now would have been impossible for her to handle.  Parents, teachers, and other adults worked hard to instill good manners and polite behavior into children; these are difficult but essential skills for autistic children to learn, but they are sadly neglected today.  Finally, there were no video games then, which encourage solitary activity; she was forced to interact directly with other children through board games, outdoor play, and other normal, 1950’s-era activities. (More)

A couple of generations ago, overseas travel for pleasure was only for the rich.  Even business travel was uncommon, unless one was a missionary or in the military.  Today we visit our family in Switzerland more frequently, with less effort, and possibly even with less relative expense than my family travelled from New York to Florida to visit my grandparents when I was young.

Telephone service was once so expensive that long distance calls (remember long distance?) had to be kept brief—as in just a few minutes.  Overseas calls were out of the question most of the time.  Today our grandchildren have long conversations with us on the phone, and we can call Switzerland at six cents a minute.  Skype costs even less (less as in free); the quality may not be as good as I'd like, but it allows us to see each other.  The long-dreamed-of video phone is here! (More)

I've removed the Feedjit live traffic feed from the panel on the right because of the ads that are now there.  I didn't mind the ads for Feedjit itself, but I have no control over the others they are now showing.  I have, however, retained the link (under Links/Other) so you can see the feed there if you, like me, find it interesting to see where people come here from and (sometimes) why.

Nobody likes to be sick, and especially nobody likes children to be sick.  But if you are a child, today is a much better time than 50 years ago to face a mild illness.  I don’t mean because of all the new vaccines—I actually look back with some fondness on the days of chicken pox, measles, and German measles.  (I missed out on that other great disease of early childhood, mumps, despite repeated visits to my friend when she was afflicted.)  Nor do I mean the obvious improvements in the treatment of many diseases, and in emergency medicine, not that I’m not grateful for them.

What I’m thankful for is that we have outgrown the sick-children-must-stay-in-bed philosophy.  Bed is fine when you’re too miserable to do anything else, but in the 50’s and 60’s bed rest was still considered an important part of the cure, and often imposed long after the child would have been much better off up and about. (More)

The older I get, the easier it is to give in to the habit of grumbling.  It's not easy to watch the world go to hell in a handbasket without complaint, and it’s part of the necessary wisdom of the elders to make the younger generations aware of what they are in danger of losing.  But too much of that attitude is unhealthy.  It’s bad for society and worse for the individual.  What, then, could be a better choice for my November New Year’s resolution than to cultivate a habit of thanksgiving?

Some of my favorite Bible verses are related to an attitude of thanksgiving.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  (Philippians 4:6)

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.  (1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18)

For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving.   (1 Timothy 4:4)

The Bible also warns against grumbling, it being one of Israel’s troublesome sins.

Do not grumble, as some of them did—and were killed by the destroying angel.  (1 Corinthians 10:10)

Most of my resolutions have come to me well in advance of my 8^th of the month deadline, but this one, despite the clarity of the choice once it was made, did not.  It was especially interesting, therefore, to see how quickly after I made the decision I started seeing confirmation everywhere.  Not that I should have been surprised—‘tis the season of Thanksgiving!

The latest Christianity Today includes an essay on gratitude by Mollie Ziegler Hemingway; unfortunately it is not yet available online.  Hemingway makes the point, quoting Cicero, that “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”  She also provides a serious antidote to my statement above that it's not easy to watch the world go to hell in a handbasket without complaint.

Consider German pastor Martin Rinckart, who served a town that became a refuge for political and military fugitives during the Thirty Years War.  The situation in Eilenburg was bad even before the Black Plague arrived in 1637.  One pastor fled.  Rinckart buried another two on the same day.  The only pastor remaining, he conducted funeral services for as many as 50 people a day and 4,490 within one year.

Yet Rinckart is best known for writing, in the midst of the war, the great hymn that triumphantly proclaims this:

Now thank we all our God,

with heart and hands and voices

Who wonderous things has done,

in whom this world rejoices;

Who from our mothers’ arms

has blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love,

and still is ours today.

We sang that powerful hymn—in both English and the original German—at Janet and Stephan’s wedding, and I’ve long appreciated it, but I did not until now know its history.  You can learn more about it, hear the traditional tune to which it is sung, and view the words in German, at NetHymnal.

On the lighter side, Hemingway’s essay also alerted me to this video on grumbling in the midst of plenty.  Apparently it has been viral online for over a year, but if I’d never seen it, probably some of my readers haven’t either.  As modern comedy goes, it’s not terribly offensive, but neither is it grandchild safe.  It does, however, fit well with this resolution, and perfectly wtih my Good New Days series.

Developing an attitude of thanksgiving will take much practice, hence the title of this resolution.

Progress Report

I've taken to reading my list of resolutions out loud at the start of every day.  It does help keep me thinking about them.

#1  Read More Books  I'm doing even better here than I expected.  I've already met my year's goal of one book per week, and am only three books short of meeting the outside-chance, five-per-month (on average) goal that I thought was very unlikely even a month ago.  Next year I plan to revisit and analyze each resolution, but here's a preview for this one:  I'm convinced that the reason I've been so successful here is largely due to the fact that it is the only one of my resolutions that is easily quantifiable and measurable.

#2  Rediscover Feasting  I'll say one thing for Fasting Wednesdays—they certainly make me appreciate the other days of the week!  That said, I'm finally getting to the point where I can do without food for a day without thinking much about not eating.  That's a big step forward for me.

#3  Learn to Relax  I've been reading Into the Silent Land:  A Guide to the Christian Practice of COntemplation (that will be a link once I post my review) and while it's a difficult book, it has already helped me some here.

#4  Like More Things  Last month I reported learning to enjoy running.  This still needs some work before it's really "mine."  On the other hand, I think I'm solidly a fan of honey now.  There are still some forms I'm not that fond of—unfortunately, they tend to be the most common ones, like clover, which accounts for my heretofore lifelong averson—but our local beekeepers, Winter Park Honey, have taught me that I like far more varieties than I dislike:  raspberry (my hands-down favorite), blackberry, tupelo, Florida wildflower, avocado, fireweed ... who'd have thought varieties of honey could be so different, and so good?

On the non-food front, I'm learning to apply my Swiss laundry lesson to other chores:  Don't resent the time they take, don't rush to get them over and done with, don't even try to make them into a game, or to use the time for other purposes (composing essays, listening to books on tape).  Cultivate instead an appreciation for the task itself:  the dance-like rhythms of housecleaning, the feel of a baby's soft skin when changing diapers, the pleasure of physical exertion while shoveling snow, the satisfaction of watching words arrange themselves into a coherent paragraph, the deep forest scent on one's hands after pulling weeds.

#5  Pay Attention  Techniques from Into the Silent Land have thus far helped more here than with #3.  The idea of calmly, patiently, consistently and without self-reproach bringing the mind back to its proper focus of attention has been particularly useful.  It reminds me of a loving mother, helping her child learn to resist the temptation to grab a forbidden object by gently, but persistently, moving the child's hand back to where it belongs.

#6  Cast Away Fear  Believe it or not, Into the Silent Land seems to have applicability here, too.  I wish it were an easier book to understand!

#7  Talk Less, Listen More  It's funny, but when Porter is away I find myself taking over some of "his" regular conversations, such as with the folks who sit next to us at concerts, and certain people at church.  This involves both talking and listening more.

#8  Enjoy Spontaneity  I haven't written my planned GTD update yet, because I'm not nearly as far along in the process as I would like.  But in October I discovered that I've made more progress than I thought.  Thanks to having clearly spelled out for me what needed to be done before we could leave, and what could wait, I was able to enjoy our nearly spontaneous trip to Miami.  That's quite a change for me.

#9  End with the Beginning in Mind  Not much to report here, because of falling behind with GTD, but when I do manage to set things up for the morrow before going to bed, the next day always goes better.

#10  Care More about Other People—and Less about What They Think  I'm working on this—but as I said in #1, it's easier to report (and to make) progress when it's more quantifiable.