Pete Seeger: Think Globally, Sing Locally!

Yesterday evening I saw Pete Seeger performing live with a chorus of gleeful children.  I will never forget the experience.  It was the most magical holiday gathering I have ever had the good fortune to attend.  The concert, aptly named, Think Globally, Sing Locally, was held in the sanctuary of the South Presbyterian Church in Dobbs Ferry, New York.  The backdrop of the stage featured a banjo and a peace sign made of LED lights, with a cross in the middle... of course!  My Iphone photo does not do it justice, but here is a peephole view of the scene:

In addition to Pete Seeger and The Take Me To The River Children's Community Chorus, the following performers appeared: The Westhab Ensemble, Leo Liebeskind, Jenny Murphy and Matt Turk.  The Westhab Ensemble, a group of talented African American children, sang an excerpt from Dr. Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech.  Leo Liebeskind performed several of his original songs, singing, playing harmonica, guitar and piano.  Young Mr. Liebeskind displayed talent and poise beyond his age:  he is in the 11th grade at Hunter College High School in NYC.  Jenny Murphy is a local folk singer and song leader, and Matt Turk is "a veteran performer/eternal idealist who has engaged audiences around the world, both as a hard-rocking band leader and acoustic folk troubador" (quoting the program I received at the event; cover appears below). 

The predominant themes of the event were unity, freedom and perserverance.  I witnessed a group in that sanctuary that was diverse, yet unified.  Inside of a Protestant Church were gathered Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanics, Catholics, Protestants, Jews and people of every age.  My own beliefs lean very strongly toward Unitarian Universalism, so if I had to choose a crowd to hang with, I couldn't have landed in a better spot.  The audience was encouraged to sing along with the chorus in most of the pieces. 

Pete Seeger led us all in a musical lesson so that we could sing Alleluia, written by the 18th century English composer William Boyce.  By the end of our lesson, we were able to sing the chorus in a round! 

The children led us in singing, Tzena, Tzena, Tzena, a song written in Hebrew by Issachar Miron while he served in the Jewish Brigade of the British forces during World War II. 

Matt Turk led us in singing De Colores, in the original Spanish.  A translation of one line summarizes the heart of this song: "And so must all love be of many bright colors." 

For me, the three other most notable songs were Somewhere Over The Rainbow, Take It From Dr. King, and This Land Is Your Land.  Pete Seeger strongly invited the audience to sing harmony on This Land Is Your Land, and so I did!  Apparently some of my own childhood chorus lessons stuck after all these years. 

It was an unforgettable evening and I am beyond grateful to my friend Magda who suggested that I attend with her and her son Xavier.  Oddly enough, even though my own son's nursery school is adjacent to and affiliated with South Presbyterian Church, I hadn't heard about the concert until Magda e-mailed me a local announcement.  Even though I did not get to sit with Magda, it is meaningful to me that she invited me.  She is a deeply spiritual person who believes that Pete Seeger is a saint.  I have to agree with her.  He is a 90 year old man who has devoted his life to the service of peace, social justice and the protection of the environment.  His love for the Hudson River is one of the major reasons that it is clean and beautiful again today.  I am exceedingly thankful for his work since I live right next to the Hudson and am inspired daily by views of the river and the Palisades.  Most likely, I wouldn't be living where I do now with my sweet little family if it were not for the dedication of this man. 

I met Magda and Xavier for dinner before the concert, and as always, I enjoyed seeing them.  Magda's ancestry is Italian and her husband is South African.  Their lovely family is an excellent representation of the unity and diversity that bless so many of us living in this area and in other locations all around the United States.  I did not get to sit with them at the concert as we were separated in the crowd trying to enter the church.  Someone seated Magda and Xavier in the front of the church in the section reserved for families of the Children's Chorus.  I stood along the sides of the pews watching the performance, and I was filled with joy to see the two of them sitting there.  They do not live in the rivertowns and actually didn't know any children in the chorus, but as always, things happen for a reason.  I believe that they were supposed to be seated there because of Magda's respect and gratitude for Pete Seeger and because of her own dedication to the values embodied by the concert. 

As I looked around the crowd, I wanted so much to belong.  I felt humbled to be in that place.  Having only lived in this area for two years, and in New York since 1996, I haven't always experienced diversity.  I am from a relatively homogenous part of the country.  This is not to say that there is anything wrong with homogeneity.  I think that is what many of us have experienced growing up.  Fortunately, our world is moving in a more unified and diversified direction, and many of the youth at last night's concert will be leaders in that respect.  I strongly believe that the experience they had as temporary students of Pete Seeger will impact their beliefs and the way they relate to the rest of the world.  I also believe that growing up in this area will contribute to their openness and dedication to the service of higher values. 

I do believe, like Pete Seeger, that one day we will all fly over that colorful rainbow of God's promise.  I believe that we will and that we do all belong together.  I will teach my own children to respect every sincere spiritual path and to appreciate and learn from other cultures.  I do speak other languages and I will teach my children to speak them as well.  If I do nothing else in life, I hope that I can convince my children to be good citizens of the world, and not just of their own country.  I hope that they will have a broad view of spirituality and a great amount of hope in progress. 

I see how my friend is instructing her son and I will try to follow her example in the ways that I can.  I see how Pete Seeger dedicated his life to the highest causes, and although I am not presently able to work at that level, I will "try, try, try" to serve those purposes to the best of my ability. 

In closing, I will leave you with the lyrics of another song led by Matt Turk last night, and written by Jimmy Cliff:

You can get it if you really want

You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
But you must try,
Try and try, try and try
You'll succeed at last

Persecution, you must face
Win or lose, you got to take your share
Keep your mind set on your dream
You can get it, as hard as it seems
You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
But you must try,
Try and try, try and try
You'll succeed at last

Rome was not built in a day
Opposition will come your way
But the hotter the battle you see
It's the sweeter the victory

You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
But you must try,
Try and try, try and try
You'll succeed at last

You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
But you must try,
Try and try, try and try
You'll succeed at last

Is Religion Stopping You?

George Carlin was onto something when he said, "Religion is bullshit."  If you have never had the opportunity to view this classic performance, please watch the YouTube video below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeSSwKffj9o

I say that George Carlin was onto something, but I won't entirely dismiss the validity of religion.  Here are two good definitions of religion from the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary: (1) : the service and worship of God or the supernatural; (2) : a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practices. 

The key words for me in these definitions are "supernatural", "institutionalized" and "attitudes." 

Supernatural means, "of or relating to existence outside of the natural world", according to the Free Online Dictionary.  The last time I checked, we humans hadn't really achieved a perfect grasp of the nature of ourselves or the universe.  Do we have perfect knowledge of our bodies?  Where is that elusive cure for cancer?  Many diseases of the body are still categorized as idiopathic, meaning that they lack a clear cause.  How much do we know about black matter?  In China, people believed that the Earth was flat until the 17th century.  It was not until 330 BC that Aristotle unveiled observational evidence of a spherical Earth.  Since I am siding with the atheists on the issue of Creationism, I will cede the point that our planet has clearly existed for much longer than 6,000 some odd years.  Apparently since the dawn of man and continuing to this day, there are still open questions as to what constitutes Nature itself.  That being the case, how can we get a precise definition of "supernatural" in order to then destroy it?  The phrase "existence outside of the natural world" seems very slippery to me.  Do our dreams count as natural?  Seriously, are there a lot of people out there diligently drawing lines around what is natural?  If so... cool.  I hope they are jazzed. 

Obviously there are many problems with any system that is "institutionalized."  If something is institutionalized, that means that people have created a construct with sets of rules around it and then imposed the construct upon a wide group of individuals.  Our government is an institution.  The Roman Catholic Church...obviously an institution.  High schools are institutions.  I have to agree with George Carlin on the idiocy of worshiping an institution.  People are fallible and all.  I'm sure the Pope is a great guy, but...

We are all familiar with the problems caused by our "attitudes."  Again, it goes back to the fallibility of everyone.  Can you honestly approve 100% of anyone's attitude?  I for one do not want to serve or worship any attitudes.  I can see how George Carlin would have had a problem giving money to a guy who claims hold to the most powerful "attitude." 

My reason for holding onto the baby while I throw out the religion bathwater is this: the common definition of religion includes, wrongly or rightly, notions of spirituality.  Even Richard Dawkins, author of The God Delusion, won't say that there is no such thing as spirit.  He equates this with denying the existence of fairies or unicorns.  Since he doesn't have definitive proof of the non-existence of spirit, he cannot logically deny its existence. 

How do we arrive at definitive proof of spirit?  Some people claim to have sensory proof of spirit.  They have seen visions, heard voices, and felt the touch of a non-human force on their bodies.  Not all of these people have been diagnosed as mentally ill.  Should they be?  Who knows?  How can we even prove the existence of our consciousness?  That has been a topic of philosophical debate since philosophers came into existence.  If we're not even sure how to draw a line around our conscious mind, how can we know with certainty that a spiritual realm does not exist?  No intelligent person claims this capability--not even Stephen Hawking or Richard Dawkins! 

Many people are afraid to ask questions about spirituality.  Many are afraid to venture outside of their given religion.  Many are so turned off by religion that their spirit doors are permanently locked, or so they believe. 

I have absolute confidence in my belief in spirit.  I also have an absolute faith in the Divine.  Faith in divinity crosses all generations and all cultures.  I believe that we can learn more about ourselves, the natural world, and all other phenomena through opening our minds to all of humanity and focusing on the common points.  I am thankful to have many highly educated friends who also believe this way.  Some of them are Christian, some are Jewish, some are Muslim, some are Buddhist and some are Hindu.  I can talk about concepts such as prayer with all of these people.  I have experienced visions and heard spoken phrases while meditating.  I have had prophetic dreams.  I have had psychic experiences.  I am not ashamed to admit these things, and why would I be? 

I respect atheism as a belief simply because I find no value in resisting it.  I find no value in negating any belief system unless such system results in harm.  It is not for me to say that atheists are harming themselves by closing off all spiritual avenues.  How am I to know what journey they are on?  I have not walked a mile in their moccasins. 

If I have one idea to offer here, it is this:  no one is alone in his or her dislike of religion, but that does not have to stop anyone from following a spiritual path.  This idea is far from original. 

If you are not on a spiritual path, good for you.  If you are, good for you.  If religion is blocking your spiritual path, I say... don't let it.

Better All The Time!

Possibly the greatest gift we received from The Beatles was their ability to bridge gaps between all living generations.  My 1 year old dances to The Beatles.  I listened to The Beatles in high school and so did both of my younger sisters.  High schoolers today still listen to The White Album.  The Boomers are always gonna love The Beatles!  I think of John Lennon and Paul McCartney as philosopher poets who reached the masses. 

Yesterday was such a good day that I was humming the song, "It's Getting Better All The Time."  For most people, life is about transitions.  First you're a baby; then you're a kid; then you're a teenager; you start work or go to college; you decide how to live, or not, with another person; you may move to a faraway place; you let go of friends and loved ones with death and distance; sometimes you procreate; sometimes you stagnate; you get sick; you get better; you get rich; you lose money; you lose a limb; you gain some perspective...and on and on and on.  Don't get me started on "Changes" by David Bowie.  That's a song for another day. 

Transitions are tough for a lot of us, especially when they come in quick succession.  I seem to specialize in this arena.  Here's a little rundown since college: I got married.  I moved to Paris.  I got an M.A. I moved back to Missouri.  I moved to Manhattan.  I changed careers.  I got a J.D. I got divorced.  I moved to London. I moved back to Manhattan.  I changed from one law firm to another.  I moved to Brooklyn.  I bought an apartment.  I got remarried.  I got pregnant.  We sold the apartment.  I got sick.  I stopped working.  I had a baby.  We moved to the suburbs.  I got pregnant again.  I had another baby.  Most significantly, I experienced a spiritual awakening.  I changed my priorities.  I changed my goals.  I am changing the way I think. 

Now--I have dreams.  I have dreams that I believe in.  I have old and new friends that believe in me.  I believe that we are working together, and it really is getting better all the time. 

I want to be a writer.  I keep meeting other writers.  I'm not saying I will manifest a new career overnight, but I can see the new day dawning.  I am getting invaluable advice and support and it feels GOOD. 

My husband and I have found the town we love.  We believe we can stay here.  We believe we can buy a house here, and signs keep pointing us in that direction. 

I used to beat myself up for staying home with my kids instead of working.  Just yesterday, I spoke to the sweetest woman.  Of course, she works in this town that I love.  She just happened to be a lawyer who has had her own practice for 40 years.  I told her about my law firm past in the city and she cut right in: "I did the same thing.  Then I stayed home with my kids for ten years.  I wouldn't trade it for the world.  You'll never get these years back.  You can work as a lawyer again.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."  She gave me some good legal advice AND some good personal advice.  It made me feel BETTER. 

I want to be a writer.  I still may want to be a lawyer.  I want to learn Mandarin.  Who says I can't?  This is my new song, and I'd like you to sing it with me!

John Lennon and Paul McCartney, 1967

It's getting better all the time

I used to get mad at my school
The teachers who taught me weren't cool
You're holding me down, turning me round
Filling me up with your rules

I've got to admit it's getting better
A little better all the time
It can't get no worse
I have to admit it's getting better, it's getting better
Since you've been mine

Me used to be a angry young (wo)man
Me hiding me head in the sand
You gave me the word, I finally heard
I'm doing the best that I can

I've got to admit it's getting better
A little better all the time (It can't get no worse)
I have to admit its getting better, it's getting better
Since you've been mine (Getting so much better all the time)

It's getting better all the time
Better
It's getting better all the time
Better Better Better

I LOVE YOU JAMIE.

I'll Take the Alternative Health--Hold the Dogma

There's a lot going on in the health care cafeteria these days.  The usual lunch ladies are upping their game.  The school population is in an uproar over the same old dishes being served day in and day out, as the quality fails to improve with the soaring prices.  Sadly for us kids, the drug pushers are becoming increasingly obnoxious and intimidating.  It seems there are dealers peddling at least three new drugs at every table.  Not surprisingly, the antidepressants and anxiety meds are going fast over at the geek table.  "Anybody paranoid over here?  Step right up, kid!" 

Luckily for some of us, cool alternative health dudes and well-intentioned shaman are joining us after the lunch bell and setting up their own stands.  "Don't want the corn dogs and goulash today?  Wanna get those pushers off your back?  We've got better products at a price you might like!"  Lately I'm lining up at these guys' stands more often than not.  I'm sick of the typical lunch line, not thrilled with the snack bar or vending machine options, and I'm honestly a little scared of the shadier looking dealers.  Herbal teas and tinctures taste good and they seem to work.  Preventive medicine is indisputably yummy.  To top it all off, you can't beat a good massage on your lunch break.  No better way to show up in Spanish class with a smile on your face--"Estoy muuuuy bien, gracias!" 

Solamente... sometimes I get a little annoyed by some of the healthcare hipsters.  It's hard to say that they don't mean well.  Clearly they are out there working hard for the benefit of the public.  In a cartoon world, they are the superheroes fighting the real DR. EVIL.  In their shaman batcaves, they slave away preparing their herbal remedies and crystallizing pure energy, while M.D.s in white coats broker dirty deals with Big Pharma.  They're even brave enough for hand-to-hand combat with beasts such as logic, science and linear thinking!  I did say "beasts", and I meant it.  Generally, linear thinking is helpful.  Logic can certainly get you out of a pickle.  Science has moved homo sapiens pretty far up the evolutionary ladder, no doubt.  But--like anything else, these are human concepts that implode and disintegrate when taken to extremes.  People need to know when the horse is dead, already.  I'm pretty sure the dead horse philosophy applies to everything and everyone with the exception of The Big Man Upstairs. 

So now we're back to dogma.  The healthcare hipsters don't like medical dogma, yet they want to help sick people.  They offer us another way, which can often be a better way.  I'm pretty sure this group will always collect some money from me until I finally kick it.  I may even have a special hipster ceremony performed at my funeral, as a final homage and offering.  The one thing I dislike about these guys is their tendency to adhere to their new and improved dogma.  "Hey, kids!  Don't fall for that old malarkey.  Come over here and taste this crispy new ideology with flava crystals!"  Wait a minute!  Isn't it packaged ideology that I was trying to escape in the first place?  I said I didn't want a corn dog anymore.  A vegan corn dog with flava crystals isn't really going to appease me, guys. 

How about some examples?  Well, let's see.  Since I have suffered from an idiopathic illness in addition to the mysterious and illusive condition called Lyme Disease, the past three years have given me a plethora of concrete alternative dogma examples.  Couple these with the myriad comments I have heard as a mother of two boys born in the past three years, and I could fill 100 pages in 8 point font size.  A bullet point list is probably best for the sake of concision:

• Hand sanitizer doesn't prevent illness
• C-section babies suffer from lasting emotional trauma
• Allergies don't really exist and no one should ever admit to having them (direct quote)
• Every person is singularly responsible for his or her own illness
• Illness enters the body through wind and can be burned out by smoldering sticks of incense
• I'm a well-meaning person, but my aura is black (WTF?)
• My mother is pure evil (this was seriously quoted to me)
• Multiple Sclerosis is caused by hard-heartedness and iron will
• The flu is caused by mass negativity and beliefs 
• Sagging lines in the face come from sagging thoughts in the mind (don't get a face lift; blame yourself!)
• Polio is caused by paralyzing jealousy or a desire to stop someone
• Herpes is caused by a mass belief in sexual guilt

I truly do understand and agree that many diseases and conditions have spiritual, emotional and psychological causes.  I remember hearing my father say when I was growing up that unforgiveness and resentment can lead to cancer.  I don't doubt it.  However--and this is a big however--there are such things as microorganisms like bacteria and viruses.  We do have something called an immune response or an immune system.  Possibly some alternative health practitioners don't like the sound of the word "immune" or the idea of a bodily system that can only be properly observed with laboratory tools and implements such as a microscope.  Maybe petri dishes are considered to be bad luck according to several aboriginal belief systems.  OK.  Fine.  I'm still not going to concede that influenza, herpes and polio are caused by anything other than a pathogen.  No way, no how.  I'm not going to believe that elderly new age healers with shiny, taut skin got it through their positive thougths alone.  I don't think that every person who gets an MS diagnosis needs to get on their knees and soften their heart.  In fact, I think that the judgmental healers that look at MS victims in this way could use a few lessons in humility, as they collect cash from sad and desperate people who will do anything to heal and regain the life they once had.  I do think that using a hand sanitizer after handling a shopping cart can prevent passing the microscopic fecal matter from the cart handle to my mouth, thereby preventing me from catching an intestinal bug.  I do think that cleaning surfaces prevents the spread of illness more effectively in hospitals than speeches over the loudspeakers on the dangers of mass fears.  If I wipe my sick kid's nose, I'm gonna wash my hands.  If it's springtime and I'm sneezing, I may happen to mention that I have allergies.  When I do, I don't want a speech on the non-existence of allergies from a hypnotherapist I just met in the park (yes, this happened to me last spring). 

Do you see what I mean about the dogma?  Just in case a definition would be helpful, here you go (from Merriam-Webster):
Main Entry: dog·ma

1 a : something held as an established opinion; especially : a definite authoritative tenet
b : a code of such tenets
c : a point of view or tenet put forth as authoritative without adequate grounds
2 : a doctrine or body of doctrines concerning faith or morals formally stated and authoritatively proclaimed by a church

In short, I like what the health hipsters are dishing out.  I just don't need the extra side of dogma.  It weighs down the plate, and after all, isn't the goal to lighten our load a little?

Honoring the Matron of Thanksgiving

In a prior post on the spiritual practice of gratitude, I described my formative Thanksgiving holidays spent at the home of my paternal grandmother, Geneva Garrison, nicknamed "G.G."  She attended college and worked as a teacher.  At one point in her career, she taught in a one room school house.  She lived to the age of 101 before, as she would say, "going home to be with the Lord" this past winter.  I share two important qualities with G.G.:  1) I am very spiritual by nature, and 2) I love to write.  I would like to honor G.G. through sharing an excerpt from her personal journal.  If you would like to learn about making your own sorghum or riding in a covered wagon, this is for you.  Reading about the living conditions of our ancestors 100 years ago can make us thankful for what we have, and at the same time wistful for a more concrete experience with nature, the land, and even with God. 

Here is what G.G. had to say about the origins of her life:

"In the beginning:
On May 8, 1907, I was born to John Walter and Rose Ethabell Matteson at 26th and Bird St. Joplin, Missouri.  My parents and sister Lola, age five, gave me a warm welcome I am told.  When it was time for my arrival, Mom sent Lola to summon a neighbor to come and serve as my mid-wife.  She in turn notified Dr. Mays.  I was in a hurry to get here, so everyone had to get in action. 

When I was three months old we moved to a farm one and a half miles south of Anderson, Missouri.  Of course I can't recall any happenings there until I was two or three years of age.  I remember many fun times.  Lola told me later she was pushing me in a large baby buggy and turned it over on me.  She cried thinking she had killed me.  Lola was a good little girl.  She tried to assume duties to help Mom that she couldn't handle.  I remember quite vividly when we had the measles.  Mom put us in a dark room on a feather bed.  She brought our meals.  We didn't like the looks of our hands so we wore gloves. 

Mom raised chickens and geese.  One old goose enjoyed chasing us.  Lola was at the top of its list for victims.  She would run screaming bloody murder to reach the house. 

Mom had a dear Christian aunt who lived in Galesburg, IL.  Her name was Annie.  Mom wasn't saved, and she got much help and strength from Aunt Aunnie.  One day Mom decided to stay in a clothes closet until she had a know-so salvation.  I don't know how long she stayed there, but she came out shouting.  She told me later about the experience.  One day she started out to the smoke house when it was storming.  Lightning frightened her and she reacted to it.  She said her heard the Lord's voice saying, "Be not afraid, it is I."

My dad was a fine man.  I know of no one who disliked him.  He was saved in a Christian Church when he was a young man.  He was baptized.  He and mom later joined the Baptist Church at Anderson.  Dad was a finish carpenter and a farmer.  Lola and I enjoyed watching him make sorghum.  He raised his own cane.  He had his own mill.  Hitching a horse to it, the cane was ground.  A large vat held the juice which was boiled until sorghum was produced.  He then put it in tin pails to sell and for family use.  Before the mill could be cleaned the cats got in it, and had a hard time getting loose.  Lola and I had fun over that, especially when they lifted one foot at a time trying to shake off the sorghum. 

1911 - When I was about four, dad decided to go out in Kansas to work in the wheat harvest.  What was our mode of transportation?  A covered wagon pulled by Bess and Queen, two beautiful mares.  So we loaded our belongings and departed.  Sometimes we slept in hayfields, making our beds on piles of straw.  At one point we were in heavy rains.  Water came up in our wagon.  We couldn't see the edges of the road.  I imagine mom and dad did some praying.  We went to Turon, Kansas.  Mom cooked for the farm hands in a "cook shack."  Lola helped, and I probably got in the way.  The men bragged on mom's cooking.  They said the former cook majored on rice and prunes.  I don't recall any refrigeration or buying ice.  While we were there, dad traded the horses and wagon for a new Model T.  He had never driven one, but we started for home anyway.  He had problems staying on the road.  They were sandy ruts about 100%.  With his tenacious spirit and the Lord, we made it home.  When we came to a steep hill, we had to get out and push.  "Tin Lizzie" was like a balky mule.  So we had a different mode of traveling when we got home.  Of course, car heaters were unheard of then.  Mom heated rocks, irons and used lanterns to put under our lap robes."

To me, G.G's stories are fascinating.  I always loved hearing about my grandparents' earliest memories.  I am very thankful that G.G. kept a journal and gave a copy to all of her progeny.  I know that her spiritual path was 100% Christian.  I also know that she had Cherokee ancestors who believed quite differently than she did.  It was very important to her that all of her children and grandchildren follow Christianity as a spiritual path.  Here is what she wrote about me in her journal: "David has a daughter, Michelle, from a previous marriage.  She is dear girl too.  She is kind, warm, attracive and talented.  She has a nice disposition and best of all she is a Christian." 

Am I a Christian?  Am I on the path that she wanted for me?  The answer is not 100% clear.  I am certainly on a spiritual path.  I do read scripture from the following faiths: Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Islam and Buddhism.  I absolutely have faith in God.  I pray and meditate as often as I can.  Do I believe that we need "salvation?"  That answer depends on what it means to be saved.  I believe that we need to be saved from the worst part of our natures and from the hate and violence that we propagate against one another.  I believe that salvation comes from Love.  I am on a quest to love myself, love my family, and then to spread that love out as far as I can to the rest of the world.  I believe that Jesus will help me to do that, and so in that way, I am a Christian. 

My heart will be with G.G. this Thanksgiving as it has been every Thanksgiving that I can remember.  I will do my best to honor her legacy and I pray that her spirit can be a light unto my path. 

That's When You Find Yourself

So I've seen the Disney Pixar Cars movie about 100 times.  I mean, not all the way through or anything!  I haven't actually sat in one place and watched Cars in its entirety more than twice.  Here is what usually happens: my son Alec wakes up at 5:45 a.m. and starts asking for Lightning McQueen.  That is when my husband will go and start up the Cars DVD for 20 more minutes in bed.  As our morning progresses, I hear bits and pieces of the film over breakfast, potty training, then washing and dressing everyone.  Once things have quieted down a bit the film ends and as the credits role, I hear the song "Find Yourself."  Here is the chorus:

When you go through life
So sure of where you're heading
And you wind up lost
And it's the best thing that could've happened
Cause sometimes when you lose your way
It's really just as well
Because you find yourself
Yeah, that's when you find yourself

You may find these lyrics to be any of the following: trite, sappy, schmaltzy, cheesy, pedantic, boring, or Oprah-esque. 

The first time I really listened, I liked those lyrics.  I said to myself, probably out loud, "that sounds like me." 

Anyone who has seen Cars will remember the little blue Porsche called Sally.  In case you can't remember, she is Lightning's girlfriend, OK?  Got it?  Anyway, Sally used to be an attorney working long hours in Los Angeles, California.  At one point, her engine started to give her problems and she decided to break out of the race.   She kept driving and driving until she hit a rundown little town in the desert called Radiator Springs.  When she broke down, Doc took Sally in and she decided to stay.  You'll have to watch the movie again to find out what happened after that. 

I used to be an attorney working in NYC, Paris and London.  I didn't really like those jobs.  I felt like I was in a race where I didn't belong.  A high school teacher once said this to me: "Michelle, I know you are smart but for some reason you don't try to compete.  You are like a souped-up race car parked on the side of the road and getting passed by old pick-up trucks."  Her name was Anne-Marie Correggia.  I will never forget smoking Gitanes with her in my attic after a French class party.  When I went to college, I decided it was time to compete.  I studied a little bit and graduated magna cum laude, winning a scholarship to graduate school in Paris.  Then I decided that I needed to go to a top 5 law school.  Once I got into law school, I studied a fair amount but I wanted to stop competing.  I didn't try to write onto a journal.  I enjoyed life for a while and spent another semester in Paris.  I got a C in Constitutional Law because I skipped the class regularly and spent as little time as possible on my take-home final.  I still got a job at a "magic circle" firm in London the semester before graduation.  Life seemed pretty good.  It seemed good because I was running from place to place and taking in the sights.  Running around felt good. 

Eventually, five years of faking it in the law firm world caught up to me and sure enough, my engine started to backfire.  I quit my job.  I developed Bells Palsy.  I had a baby.  I moved to a little town called Dobbs Ferry and I'm still here.  I feel like Doc has taken me in and I don't want to move back to the race.  I did get my engine fixed.  We've got good mechanics up here on the river. 

I'm not competitive.  I never was.  I don't care if I get passed by an old Chevy truck.  I am on my own road again, and that's better than racing. 

I'm not saying I don't love cars, or Cars.  I can be a racing fan, just like anyone else.  I enjoy going for a ride, and more than anything, I love the open road.  Now that I've found myself, there's no telling where I'll end up. 

Best of luck on your trip.  Don't fall! ;)

Finding Presents in the Past

Keeping our focus on the here and the now is an excellent spiritual practice that improves our relationships with loved ones.  If we can be fully present with our children, our spouses, our friends... that is the greatest gift.  However, I find my thoughts drifting to my grandparents lately.  None of them are "with us" in the physical sense.  Can I still be with them in the present moment? 

I also think of how quickly time is passing, as we all cannot help but do at least occasionally.  We are all aging.  In the spirit of my former post on gratitude, I am feeling like I need to spend more time speaking with my parents and collecting their memories of their own parents. 

Whenever I look at old photographs of my grandparents and my Mom and Dad, I try to appreciate the unique qualities that they possessed at that moment in time.  For some reason, I particularly like to see photos of all of them at my current age.  As an inspiration for connecting with older family members, wherever they may be now, I am sharing some of these images below. 

Stay in the present moment, but never forget to love each day as you live it because life is beautiful and time IS fleeting.

My paternal grandparents, Geneva and Wayne Garrison:

My maternal grandfather, James Finley, pictured with my mother and his cousin in uniform (he is the handsome one on the right):

An even younger James Finley in the 1920's, posing with my grandmother Mildred and some very early American cars:

My parents at their wedding, with both sets of my grandparents:

And finally, my favorite picture of my mother, Donna, when she was my current age: