Category Archives: Family

At 50, What Next?

3  bar steep drop 30.16  0mph  NE  windchill 3  Samhain

Waning Gibbous Moon of Long Nights

My brother Mark asked me my thoughts on turning 50.  This April 11th he has his 50th.  By then it will be, as it always is, twelve years since I had that birthday.

Twelve years ago is a long time and when I first started to answer Carl Jung came up.  He should have, but not in the positive way I had in mind.  I began that piece by reflecting on Jung’s notion of life’s  two halves:  an external, career and family half followed by an interior, reflective and calmer half.  Hmmm.  But that was the upbeat spin.

How Jung came into my turning 50 is less philosophical.  In 1996 I shifted my credentials from the Presybterian church to the Unitarian-Universalist.  In 1997, my 50th year, I had to take an internship to qualify for recognition.  I did.  Unity Church Unitarian (no relation to the Unity movement) in St. Paul and First Unitarian in Minneapolis both offered me internships.

It felt good to be wanted in a professional capacity again.  I had given myself 5 years to make it as a writer (with no real idea what making it meant) and I failed.  No sales.  Not even any bites.  Instead of the romantic I’ll stick with it no matter what I decided to go back to the trade I had learned.  I felt a need to earn money and to have recognition as a skilled and valuable person.

This whole episode was a mistake and a big one.  I crowned it with accepting a position as minister of development at Unity, essentially a fund-raising position.  I hate fund-raising and everything associated with it.  But I said yes because I was asked.  Pretty desparate.

That was how Jung came in.  Early on I could see I’d made a mistake but I needed to understand why.  What did it mean?  My long time analyst John Desteian, a Jungian, and I worked on it.  In the end we decided I had regressed, rather than moved forward.  I had regressed by returning to safe territory.  John said that most regressions occur because we have to go back and pick up something we needed.  In this case I needed to be reminded how much I’d wanted out of the ministry six years before and why full time ministry was a bad fit for me.

It felt wonderful to leave after the fund-raising goal had been met, an increase of 10% over the prior year.  I did it, but I did not want to do it again.

I came home and save for one brief relapse when we needed money I learned my lesson.

What was the lesson?  That the world of work and achievement had come and gone in my life.  Now I needed to pursue life itself.  That did include writing, whether I sold anything or not.  I have not.  It meant I needed to face life as myself, not as a role or job holder.

So, Mark, turning 50 for me meant a need to go back and relearn a lesson I had not grasped completely the first time around.  I don’t know what turning 50 will mean for you.  Perhaps reflecting on the expat life?  Perhaps following some abandoned or long cherised dream?  Maybe you’ll tell the story of South East Asia as only someone of your particular experience can.  Who knows?  I can tell you this.  Pay attention to what happens around this time because it has deep meaning for the rest of your life.

I’m Tired and I’m Glad to Be Home

1  bar steep fall 30.29  3mph  NE  windchill -1   Samhain

Waning Gibbous Moon of Full Nights

Car news.  Not as bad as I thought, apparently, but the folks can’t assess it well until tomorrow.  Needs a new tire for a test drive.

Got the MIA early.  Kate took me and then went on to the dentist.  I spent a good bit of time with the print collection show then wandered upstairs and sat in the Japanese galleries for a bit.  In the Minnesota Artist’s gallery I tried to connect with both artist’s work, but the level of contrivance seemed high and the level of meaning low.

My tour group was special ed kids.  I thought they would be developmentally delayed, but the issues were something else.  Couldn’t identify them myself.  Their attention was shorter and their ability to abstract very limited.

Drive home in snow and cold.  Still achy from the long day and two hour tour of the Russian Museum show yesterday.

Nap time.

A Magical Effect

26  bar steep fall 29.56  0mph NE  windchill 26   Samhain

First Quarter Moon of Long Nights       Day  8hr 53m

At last snow has begun to fall.  Already we must have gotten an inch or so and it may well snow through the night.  I have the patio light on so I can watch it fall.  The reindeer, lit with white l.e.d. lights, turns its head back and forth, its wire frame body now sketched in fluffy snow.  The lit holly and berries on the patio table also have snow cover, the lights blinking up through small mounds of white.  We only have lights in the back and few at that.   They do a touch of whimsy to the long winter nights.

A gentle snow has a magical effect on the heart as well as the landscape.  It is one of mother nature’s outright expressions of joy.

Tomorrow I have agreed to go to a workshop on dismantling racism as I wrote earlier.   When I was in seminary, I participated in anti-racism training seminars run by James and Mary Tillman.  I even traveled to Atlanta and went a weekend long seminar with students from Morehouse University, one of the south’s premier black colleges.  With Wilson Yates, a professor of sociology at United Theological Seminary, we created an anti-racism training kit complete with videos for rural congregations.  At one point I worked with a professional program evaluation company, Rainbow, and evaluated the work of the James and Mary Tillman programs in various institutions.

Institutional racism and the unearned advantage of being white and male have been part of my political analysis ever since.  That first round of work was now over thirty years in the past.  It is a testimony to the intransigence and institutional nature of racism that now another generation has taken up the fight.

Part of me does not look forward to a long day on a difficult and unpleasant subject while another part of me is eager to get back to practical, political work on the issue.  We’ll see how it goes.

Kate’s neck bothers her today.  She has improved a lot in the last three weeks, but she has quite a ways to go before she can go back to her full time work schedule.

Ex-Pat Life in Troubled Times

37  bar falls 29.69  0mph NW  windchill 36   Samhain

New Moon (Moon of Long Nights)

2004 Photo  SE Asia Trip  Bangkok

As many of you know, my brother Mark lives in Bangkok.  Thailand is almost invisible in the American press, so you may not have noticed the protests that have been going on there since early in the year.  The politics, even to Mark, a long term resident of Thailand, do not make much sense.   One school of thought believes it is the Bangkok royalist elite facing off against the more rural and populist base of recent prime minister and now exile, Thaksin.

Difficult to say, but this Buddhist country has a lot of unregistered guns and the protests have taken a nasty turn.  Apparently the goal of the yellow-shirted PAD protesters is a coup by the military which they hope would turn the government back to more traditional  royalist influenced politics.

Mark and Mary, both ex-pats, live out their lives as foreign nationals in cultures far removed from the West.  Even English speaking, British spawned Singapore has a Chinese government and a citizenry made of up of Malays, Chinese, Indians and a few Caucasians.  As non-citizens, even though well established, their daily lives can get upset when the politics turn nationalist as ex-pats are often visible reminders of the other.

In Mark’s case, as an American and a white man, he is culturally and physically obviously other almost every where he goes in Thailand.  When jingoism gets cranked up, no matter what the cause, the tendency is to notice strangers/farangi when at other times they may well be invisible.  He feels understandably a bit nervous, but he also says, “It’s a rush to be here.”  The politics are an alive moment, a culture trying to sort out its future and its present, searching for the mix of groups that can govern.  We just had such a moment in the last year here in America.

I respect and sometimes envy my brother and sister.  They have access every day to the unique and the different, to the daily lives of persons who respond to different customs and values than those we learned in Alexandria, Indiana.  Like them, I value those kinds of interactions and find their willingness to stay admirable.

The Most Radical Thing You Can Do

From the Faraway Nearby
The Most Radical Thing You Can Do
Staying home as a necessity and a right
by Rebecca Solnit
Published in the November/December 2008 issue of Orion magazine

LONG AGO the poet and bioregionalist Gary Snyder said, “The most radical thing you can do is stay home,” a phrase that has itself stayed with me for the many years since I first heard it. Some or all of its meaning was present then, in the bioregional 1970s, when going back to the land and consuming less was how the task was framed. The task has only become more urgent as climate change in particular underscores that we need to consume a lot less. It’s curious, in the chaos of conversations about what we ought to do to save the world, how seldom sheer modesty comes up—living smaller, staying closer, having less—especially for us in the ranks of the privileged. Not just having a fuel-efficient car, but maybe leaving it parked and taking the bus, or living a lot closer to work in the first place, or not having a car at all. A third of carbon-dioxide emissions nationwide are from the restless movements of goods and people.

We are going to have to stay home a lot more in the future. Continue reading The Most Radical Thing You Can Do

One-Hour Thanksgiving Meal

21  bar steady 30.04  0mph NNW  windchill 21  Samhain

New Moon (Moon of the Long Nights)

Kate produced a wonderful, one-hour Thanksgiving meal.  Cornbread stuffing, turkey breast with a chili-rub and an herbal seasoning under the skin, mashed potatoes, our own green beans (canned) and sweated mushroom gravy. She explained sweated, but it passed over my head.  I was already in to the green beans and the cornbread stuffing.

Tomorrow she wants to watch the Macy’s Parade because of her home town of Nevada, Iowa will have a horse team in it, someone her sister, BJ, knows.  Pretty exciting.

I’m going to try an earlier bedtime again.  Surely I can reset my body clock.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Working on the Forest Edge

32  bar steep rise  30.08  0mph NW  Windchill 31   Samhain

Waning Gibbous Dark Moon

Got groceries at Festival.  Grocery prices have gone up, maybe 15-20%.  Many people bought their Thanksgiving turkeys from a young woman with a table set up beside the butcher’s counter.  Christmas music played in the background, in sympathy, I guess, with the lonely retailers who expect no Christmas present purchases this year.

Once again I purchased produce unrecognizable to the check-out person, a friendly girl of about 18.  Is this a rutabaga?  No, jicama.  Is this a sweet potato?  No, a yam.  Oh, do they taste different?  Yes and have different colors, too.  What about these, are they good?  Rambuta.  Yes, just slice around the middle and take the top off.  Are they sweet?  Yes, if you like sweet, you’ll like these.  They’re not too sweet, are they?  No.  Medium.

Then I was on my way with my plastic bags, once again shopping without the cloth bags I’ve purchased for the purpose.   I wish they’d hop in the car without my having to remember.

orchard-week-1frtrees400006.jpgThe rest of the morning I cleared ground along the forest edge so I can put down black plastic, then mulch, to kill all the flora we do not want in the way when we plant the crops that will distract the birds from our orchard.  They will provide a height sensitive edge, stair stepping back toward the poplars, ash, cedar, oak, acacia and pin cherry behind them.

Built up a good appetite.  Still eating the 11-bean soup I made a week and a half or so ago.  Nap.

Now, after the nap, I’m doing inside things I’ve held off until I had a bit of time in the afternoon.  I put ink cartridges in my Canon Pixma printer.  This is a real rip-off.  Even when printing only black, like copies, it uses up colored ink.  This means that you have to replace the color cartridges as often as the black ones.  Guess what?  The colored cartridges are expensive.  Anyone with this printer as their primary printer pays a lot for the privilege.  My laserjet printer handles black and white in an economical manner.

Also cleaned the carpet in the study.  Dogs leave the occasional trail.  Also cleaned the stairs.  Dogs, again.

Kate’s upstairs threshing beans from our garden.  I look forward to using them in recipes over the course of the winter.

The cones are finally on the zone 5 grasses in the perennial garden.  I hope they survive.  They were a nice, delicate touch behind the lilies, iris and, later, the iris and sedum.

Oh. BTW.  No fruits on the pepper or eggplant yet.  It was a false pregnancy.  This may take a while to get down.

What Should I Do?

30  bar rises 30.00  1mph  windchill 28   Samhain

Waning Gibbous Dark Moon

Kate is my wife, friend and partner.  I had a conversation with her this morning.

“Kate,” I said, “I want to do something substantial before I shuffle off this mortal coil. (Dad used that phrase a lot.  I don’t  know where he got it.)”

She smiled and waited, her face turned a bit up to ease the strain on her neck.

“It’s not that I don’t like my life and what I do with it.  I enjoy diverse things that require different skills.  I’ve accepted that’s the life likely to be lead by a valedictorian.  Good at many things, deep in none.  Still.  I’d like to work on and complete a substantial writing project.”

“What’s your question?” she asked.

“What should I do?” She’s good at answering questions like this.  Most people are not, but I trust her and have trusted on these matters for years.

“Lake Superior.  That’s the first thing that popped into my mind,”  she said, “We could have monthly Lake Superior meetings.  Get a large paper pad and work on the project at least once a month.  We could make a point of going once or twice a year to different parts of the (true) north shore and  pay close attention to it for a week or so.”

“Thanks,” I said, “That’s what I needed.  Now I’m going to go get groceries.”

On the drive over I considered her suggestion.  It was a good one.  We could work on it as partners.  I have a shelf full of books and two large file drawers filled with information on Lake Superior.

A few years ago I started in earnest on an ecological history of Lake Superior.  I made three trip around the lake, visiting local historical societies as I went, purchasing books and making notes.  Taking picture.  I made notes, created an outline and a research plan, dug up many good websites.  I still have all this material.

I may have stalled the first time around because I’d made my objective both too specific and inflexible.  Lake Superior as myth, as geological feature, as water, as story, as an expression of a coming zeitgeist are all rich avenues to explore.  Painting, music, lore.  Some mix of these, positioning Lake Superior at the heart of the continent and the center of a worldview.  Something along those lines.

A Fruiting Body?

21  bar steady 0mph NE windchill 21  Samhain

Waxing Gibbous Dark Moon (I’ve been wrong on this for several posts)

Kate’s home and likely will be for a while until we get her neck dealt with in one way or another.  She’s read.  She’s sewed.  She’s cooked.   She’s helped out in the orchard work.   Not enough for her sturdy Norwegian work ethic. Her neck is bad enough that work just makes it worse, but when she rests it subsides enough that she itches to get stuff done, a tough place to be in for such an active and alive person.

A bit more garden work to do.  Stake the trees in the orchard.  Put protective sleeves on my 2-year old, toddler trees.  Put down black plastic on the forest edge and the shade garden area.  Still, the end is in sight for this growing season.

This is said sotte voce: I may be a daddy!  My dalliance with the peppers and egg plants seems to have begun to bear fruit.  I can’t tell for sure quite yet, but it sure looks like both plants are with fruit.  If so, I’m gonna be pleased.   I’ll post pictures when I know more.

Paula and Lindsay come tomorrow morning to do some rejiggering of our site plan.  Our work with them feels collaborative and I like that.

Tuesday evening is an event put on by our financial planner, talking about the current market situation.

Wednesday AM, most likely, Kate will have some more diagnostic tests for her neck.
Wednesday night is the Sierra Club political committee evaluation and celebration meeting.  I hope enough folks show up to help us get a good sense of what happened.  How many of our endorsee’s overall got elected.  Why did the four campaigns we targeted win and why did two fail?  What should be a time-line for next year’s political committee?

Thursday morning we see our financial adviser. Thursday afternoon Anastasia, Allison and I will judge the Northeast Minneapolis Art Show.  Friday night we’ll go to the opening.  Friday AM I have two tours and Kate has an appointment with the neuro-surgeon.

A very busy week.

A Pain in the Neck

23  bar rises 30.24  omph NNW  windchill 22  Samhain

Waxing Crescent of the Dark Moon

Change is the future invading the present…  Alvin Toffler

Ready to head outside for some more garden work.  A clear, bright day with a chill in the air.  Good outside working conditions.

Lost sleep last night.  No reason.  Just woke up at 5:30AM and could not get back to sleep.  Oh, well.

Kate got the report back on her cervical verterbrae and the news is not good, though not much different than what we expected.  It highlights the severity of the problem with which she’s labored for so long now.  Now, a few more tests and an appointment with the neurosurgeon.

Life.  It goes on whether you are ready or not.