thewritingprofessor55

The Weekend

Buenas dia,

Estoy sentado en de balcón. Yo puedo caminar des de cuarto. Antes noche yo dormí aproximo 9 1/2 hora. Yo pienso que es que más yo he dormido en años. Es el sábado por la mañana y espero que pasan la mayor parte del día en la playa mirando el océano y leyendo un libro. So . . . with some help on verb tenses, there is about 5 minutes worth the work. I must admit it is really enjoyable to work at this. I am finding that all the vocabulary I learned is helpful, but only to a certain extent. Words alone do not help my sentence construction beyond a certain point. It does help when I am listening because I can pick things up, but like yesterday when I could not remember the word for “word” (yes, ironic). I could not get Juan Carlos to figure out what I was saying. I ended up texting Melissa and wrote to NY to get a single word in the República Dominicana. Soy afortunado de tener diccionarios humanas que están dispuestos a aguantar a mí.

Jordan, esto es para ti; ¿¿descargar el ‘whatsapp’? Te he enviado un par de preguntas y tengo un poco más. ¿Puedes volver a mí, por favor? ¿Cómo va el video? Sé cuánto te gusta responder a mensajes de texto? I know it is summer, though I am amazed at how quickly it had gone by. I am reminded of how parents or older people always told me how time would seem to go more quickly the older we get. The truthfulness in that statement is alarmingly correct. I was thinking about how much more quickly the second almost 30 years of my life went than the first 30. It is simply because we do not have a reference point when we are younger. It the words of Rent a year is 525,600 minutes long. “How do you measure a year in the life?” I have been reminded this summer, and again in the past few days, to measure it in love. Back to the point at hand: what is it about experience and reflection that seems to make things move so much differently or pass by so much more quickly? Something for me to ponder as I read and lay on the beach today.

So it was a beach day. How ironic that the two people I would find to lay down next to were Germans. That was amazing and enjoyable. I was speaking in English, Spanish and German for about 4 hours. It was a wonderful day. While we were there the drinks were free on this beach and there was a sushi bar. It was a really tough experience let me tell you. There was a drink called “coco loco” (crazy coconut) . They were delicious and contained Bacardi 151 in them and tasted like they had no alcohol. I did get out on a ocean for a quick dip, but most of the time I relaxed and read. I found out that everyone else went out after I went to bed and I think the same is on tap tonight. We’ll see. I am pretty wiped out from the sun today, but it was the first time I have done this in years too. I just had my second Nutribullet juice of the day: cactus, red pepper, pineapple and lime, a combination of sweet and spicy. We went to the same restaurant today for “cenar” and I did eat un pescado llame “chillo”. I did get a picture, but I am posting on my phone and have not figured out how to get a picture in yet. We had pictures taken with the family (staff) of the restaurant . However we used Sr. Galán’s phone, so I have yet to get them from him.

I have thoroughly enjoyed my first two days and I am almost over my cough. I think I only coughed four or five times all day. That is the first time in over a month. We set up an excursion on Tuesday. It is on a boat and we go to an island beach and snorkeling and a whole bunch of things. Monday might there is Michael Jackson tribute show I think I want to attend. Needless to say, I never saw the real person, so this is as close as I might get. Today continued the world of crazy driving. They all laugh at me because I am in the back seat just shaking my head and saying, “oh my!!” I am listening to music out the window as everyone is getting ready to go out. I wish I could put sound into this post. It is amazing.

As we were coming back to the resort I observed all the little shops and shacks in which people live. I am forced to consider what we have an take for granted and yet so many of us are unhappy. While I saw a number of people walking who looked a bit haggard, I think many of them are working tremendously hard at jobs for every little money. The family that has the restaurant consists of a mother, who started things I imagine and is now retired or around sparingly. There is the daughter who is probably my age or a bit younger, and then a next generation of children and cousins. They have treated us like family. I think we will be there almost everyday. The woman my age has Wednesday off and I am not sure if we will be there Tuesday. I want to get names and addresses so I can write and send them something.

I am going to do some reading and call it a night. The second complete day has been “muy bien”. I am so grateful to be here and experience this amazing country. It is beautiful and the people are wonderful. It is not what I imagined because of what I have heard about those in New York. While I might have witnessed a brief second or two of that in three days, that is the exception. I actually asked Jacqueline about it. I am hoping this is the first of more trips to this amazing place. The other thing I want is to be able to listen to a conversation and understand. More work to do.

Well everyone else has left for the evening. I am going to read a bit and call it a night. Thanks for reading.

Michael

Una día nueva

Saludo de la vista de mi cuarto,

What an amazing morning here mi primer día completo en Dominicana república. Estoy en mi balcón y la vista está maravillosa.La temperatura está aproximadamente en 85 grados Fahrenheit y hay un poco de brisa. El sol está brillante. Estoy comiendo fresa mango y sentado en mi balcón, escuchando a música para mi iTunes. Estoy regresando para del supermercado con Juan Carlos. El hablo muy poco inglés y yo hablo poco español. Nosotros tuvimos una pequeña dificultad pero nosotros manejamos.

Today we went to the same little local restaurant we went to last night. The staff is so friendly and the food is so amazing. Sr. Galán is able to make people laugh wherever we go. He is really very personable and engaging, and that is just the surface. There is so much more. While I know I do not agree with everything he professes, I most certainly respect his passion and the rationale he employs in his thought processes. I really do think he is tremendously funny. We had a great time at lunch teasing Juan Carlos. If my Spanish was better, I would imagine even more craziness. We have purchased food to eat in this evening and I think we might go out later again. I found that all the video taken last night did not save. That is unfortunate because the party we attended with dancers and such was phenomenal. I will also note that using the internet and the use of technology in general is so very different than I have been conditioned to have. While we are in a resort, which is a complete 180 from being in town, the internet connection and the way it is used is spotty at best. That is not a value statement, but rather a statement about difference. I am fearful that I am going to get killed on my AT&T bill next month. That is in spite of buying a plan, which was anything but “barata”.

This afternoon was spent at lunch and running a couple of errands. Now I am hanging out by the pool and relaxing. I think this might be the most I have unwound in a very long time. I had to smile on a number of occasions today and I told Sr. Galán, “Ronnie would be beside himself if he were here. I think I have seen some of the most beautiful women I have ever observed. Ronnie would have been “loco todo” last night at this gathering. His shirt would never be found. Yet, this place we are in caters to those who have money, or at least money that is not typical among the local people. I could not help but wonder what some of the smiling faces that work so hard to attend to us go home to? While I have had those times in my life where I was broke I did not believe my life would always be such.

What happens when people barely eek out an existence? What makes them happy? I certainly know that money is not equal to happiness, but we still take so much for granted. I do not really take much of anything for granted at this point, but for other reasons. Yet I think it is, perhaps, better to see everyday as a gift, as an opportunity. I could have never in my wildest dreams a year ago imagine where I am now. It was a year ago today that Jordan completed my class. I was leaving for Placerville and getting ready to grade my summer classes. The number of changes in the year have been rather overwhelming. Deckers were gone and I realized how important they were in my life. I have moved on in some other ways in my life and while I have some sadness in that, it is strange how things work out. I am in the middle of a new situation and taking on a fight with more tools and things at my disposal than I could have imagined. The most important tool is that of family and friends. While the other changes in diet and such are profoundly important, not being alone is most significant for my mental well being.

It is Friday night and my desire to go out again tonight is minimal. Tomorrow I need to get a better lay of the land. This is a huge complex and there is so much here. I think I want to be on one of the beaches tomorrow and merely hanging out and being a lizard in the sun. I am assuming we might have lunch or dinner in the same place. La restaurante llame el Cocinero. Juan Carlos y Sr. Galán ate an entire fish. It is a very large fish and was caught fresh this morning. I tasted it and it was fabulous. They got the phone number so we can call ahead and it will be quicker. They let me know I needed to do this entire fish tomorrow. We’ll see if I decide to take that on.

Today has been a good day and one to learn more things. I have found that my reading comprehension is very strong. I even enjoy the writing.. My difficulty is listening and picking out what is being said. It moved so quickly. I pick up words, but sometimes the connecting words are pushed together and I am completely overwhelmed. I thought about what it would be like if I were alone. It would be frightening. While I have learned a lot in 4+ months, it is not nearly enough. Tomorrow will be yet another day. Until then.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

Traveling and Trembling

Buenas Día a las JFK,

I am sitting in the airport with about a half hour left before I board of flight to Santiago Dominica república. It is actually the first time I am traveling out of the country in 24 years. It is amazing to me that it has been that long and the last time I flew out of JFK I was going to Europe.

I am actually in flight at the moment and while my phone is in airplane mode I can still write. We are currently passing over Jacksonville, SC, turning out over the Atlantic Ocean. We are about 2 hours from our destination. I am actually beginning to relax a bit. I need to unwind more than I realized. While I know it has been a long couple months, I found out more clearly than I want how overwhelmed I am. Those who know me well know I seldom if ever get really angry or lash out at anything or anyone. However, I had such a moment last night. It didn’t last more than a minute, but when I stood on the back porch afterwards my entire body shook and trembled for more than 5 minutes. It was horrible. It was difficult because I care so deeply about Jordan and I am so grateful to him for so many things. However, I care so deeply about all the Galáns. The long and short of the evening was that I learned yet more about them and more about myself. In spite of my failing in that moment they responded with a sense of love and caring that I have never experienced in my entire life . . . ever. They literally surrounded me with receiving arms of care and words of support and love. As undeserving as I was, they spoke words of forgiveness. I tremble now in gratitude. This morning as Sr. Galán and I went to the airport, he explained in words what I experienced last night. They were words of wisdom and words of beauty. I experienced genuine care and love last night in a way that I did not realize was possible. I was given a gift from God that began as a young man in a summer class and continues to manifest itself in ways I never could have imagined. I am reminded of Paul’s words: “I, the least of them, have been the most richly blessed.”

The variety of ways that they care for me and the sum total of what they have done is also unequaled. Indeed, there are people who have loved me, and those who do more than I probably allow, ( a couple of you know who you are because you read this) but I have a long history of doing it alone. It has been safer that way. This amazing experience has taught me how people from different cultures and different backgrounds have a mutual responsibility for each other. As my last blog focused on “Alterity”, what if we worked to understand our interpersonal and global dependence on each other? How might we change as individuals? How might the world change? How might the balance of power change? Even as I write this I am finding a change in my thought process. Is there more truth in the idea that we are encouraged to continually create a group(s) of “the others”? Is there as much of a sinister power out there manipulating us to keep us fractured and incapable of changing?

Estoy en a las aeropuerto de Santiago. As we first saw land Sr. Galán’s eyes lit up. He said emotionally, “It is the first time I have seen my home in 14 years.” My being here with him began to sink in. I have been away from the mainland (the forty-eight contiguous states) for a period of time, but never away from my entire country for such an extended time. . . . It is about 5 hours later and we are in Puerto Plato at the home for the week. I have never experienced such a place. Oh my goodness. Es esta maravilloso. After unloading things, we went to dinner. Mero de filete a la fresa y tostones. Comida para cuatro persones esta 36.00. I was stunned. The resort and the town are two different worlds. I should note if there are mistakes in my Spanish, I am not using a translator. The other thing about being here that is quite ridiculous is the driving. I think my life flashed before my eyes at least a dozen times today. There was one particular time when a truck was way over the yellow line and coming towards us.

So we have been at dance parties and discos (clubs) since 9:00 and it is 12:30. It is the most I have danced in over 10 years. It was a blast. My head is full of so many thoughts, but mostly how infectious this culture and their passion for life permeates their being. The music and the dancing and the rhythm is phenomenal. I have some sense of Melissa out this weekend. I will be hearing similar music, but in a very different setting. We came to this club and it was dead 15 minutes ago; now it is packed. Everywhere there are the most amazing smiles and the most wonderful dancing.

There is so much to write, but my phone is dying and I have limited access to wifi or I pay. Thanks for reading. More tomorrow.

Michael

The Rhetoric of Alterity

Hello from the dentist’s office,

So I have had two temporary crowns in place for a few weeks and one of them decided to become more temporary, or more accurately, no longer in my mouth. I am not sure if it is the consequence of regularly digging at a space that seems to want to trap 50% of what I eat or if it is the consequence of my passing out in the bathroom last night and hitting the floor face first. Rather frustrating, but the permanent crowns are in and so I will get them in before the trip to the Dominican Republic. I thing that is probably another weird occurrence of divine intervention. I think God regularly tries to keep me out of trouble.

I have been thinking a lot about what it must feel like to be “the other” lately. What creates the situation of otherness can be varied, but it seems the result of being “the other” always results in some degree of marginalization. It creates a sense of being under-valued or being seen as different. The title of my blog is actually borrowed from one of my last doctoral classes. The class focused on the group of Jewish intelligencia who chose to leave Germany rather than stay in a country that was controlled by the Nazis. While this group was “welcomed” to some extent in their foreign home, they never felt like they belonged.

As I have listened to comments and observed attitudes this past six months of my newly found Dominican friends, family, surrogate children, or whatever term seems appropriate for them (and all the previous terms have merit and are apropos) I find such a myriad of emotions and thoughts. Some of their thoughts and emotions I understand; some I do not. There are some things about or over which I am saddened and others that I find to be incongruent with all the other things they believe. Let me say also as a white person, as I am called, I cannot pretend to feel or see things as they do. So as I write this (now at 1:30 a.m.) I am looking at the entire gamut of actions and words. I think what saddens me most of all is what I perceive to be a sense of not belonging to a country in spite of the fact, at least for Jordan and Melissa, they were born here. I also have learned that, again at least for Jordan and Melissa, they are less than comfortable with how many individuals from their ethnic-heritage-homeland conduct themselves. This also carries over particularly to their father. It has to do with how personal pride informs conduct, and I respect their opinions and attitudes, but for why they feel as they do, but even more so in how they conduct themselves. Yet, my sadness comes from this sense of alterity that permeates their thought processes and feelings. I am compelled to wonder if we so marginalize non-WASP entities that they have little option, but to think and feel as “the other”? Yet, it is still a choice (seems I am back there again). Should I separate the thinking and the feeling when I ponder choice? Of course, they have grown up bilingual in a country that prides itself on being a meeting pot on one hand and has practically forced many to give up most vestiges of their ethnic heritage (and particularly language) on the other. While most of Jordan’s thoughts are not much more than my perception because we have not had the in depth conversations, Melissa and I have spoken about much of this since the first week or so I was around her (if you read my 2014 blogs, the theme of “questioning” and being puzzled is certainly apparent).

I think the seeming lack of congruency comes from being a citizen -which I understand in some instances is not a choice- on one hand while seeming to have some disdain for that citizenship on the other (and I understand that is my personal judgment). I should note that it is my patriotism that creates some of the dilemma for me. Perhaps it is also because there are so many questions that I still want to ask or perceptions I still want to understand. In the case of Jordan and Melissa, I think part of it is being “bound” to this educational hierarchy and system and then more specifically in the case of one not really wanting to spend his or her life here. As an aside, it is the two of them in the picture with me above. In the case of the previous generation, their parents are probably much like any immigrants., hoping that the “American dream” is more than a facade. I am reminded of the writing of Fareed Zakaria, the CNN commentator, GPS host, and otherwise pretty brilliant man. Have we so squandered much of what we had through our selfish attitudes and lost what brings many to these shores? It is interesting that I first began to question some of this during the time and upon which I most anchor my patriotism (the Marine Corps). For it was there I first became significantly cognizant that we were certainly arrogant in our attitudes about some things (especially language). It was also through my first learning or experiencing another language (German, thanks to the Peters family) that I began to appreciate how language creates an identity and a sense of belonging, a connection to the other.

So where does all of this leave me? I guess still sad. I am keenly aware of the fact that too often for too many the “dream” is a mirage. For some, they play by the rules and yet, they are forced to live by different rules. I struggle with they seeming lack of patriotism, but we have marginalized them because of their skin color or their accent, or their native language. I am always stunned when I hear comments like “they all look the same” or “they all act the same” or some other mass-grouping sort of idiocy. I am saddened that in the past weeks the bone-heads we have elected want to continue this xenophobic otherness. I see how those to whom we have given the power to equalize our lives continue to marginalize so many. It is when I ponder these specifics that perhaps their actions are not as incongruent as they might appear. I too would wonder why my parents came here. I would wonder if other options might be less mirage and more concrete.

While I am not the other, perhaps it is those who are that really have the ability to see America for what it is. I am proud, and simultaneously confounded, to claim the title of American. I am that WASP, but one who questions and hopes we might still appreciate what all of the others offer while we still can. When we educate and lose some of the most brilliant and thoughtful minds (Tu sabe directamente cuánto respeto lo que usted piensa y dice, aun cuando yo podría discrepar. Su buena voluntad de hacer las preguntas difíciles me ha ayudado cultivado y aprecia la complejidad de la situación. Esto me ha ayudado a comenzar a verme como un ciudadano global.)and then cause them to feel unappreciated or disowned, we lose them. We also lose ourselves. We all become “the other”. As I finish this I am packed to visit the Dominican Republic. We’ll soon find out first hand how much I can depend on what I have learned since the end of March. I will spend a week being “the other”. It is now 3:00 a.m.. Off to sleep, I hope.

Thanks for reading,

Michael

Making Changes

Good morning,

I know I had a draft of another post saved, but at the moment, it has disappeared. I actually when out for breakfast this morning and trying to eat something that is not processed or does not have sugar in it is quite the dilemma. The change in my diet and lifestyle is taking some significant discipline and thought, but as it is with most things, changes take time to manage. I can make the change, but for it to become “the norm” is something substantially different. I think this is especially true when it comes to our diets. We are so programmed to just eat. I am reminded that in my home growing up , at 5:00 p.m. it was dinner time. That time was almost sacrosanct. Furthermore, it did not matter if you might have snacked an hour before, you sat down and ate, and you cleaned up everything on your plate. No questions asked.

It is hard to believe that the beginning of the school year is barely three weeks away. Again, there will be changes: new students, new schedules, a new office, perhaps a new status . . . each of these things constitutes some kind of change in my life. However, I am not the only one who experiences such a phenomena. We are constantly in a state of flux, or so it seems. What is constant? Is it that nothing is? I was told the other day”you’ve become stronger and wiser over the past few months . . .”. Those are significant words and they mean a lot to me. It is interesting sometimes what pushes us to be stronger and wiser, but most often it seems that such a change comes from adversity, from struggle. I am reminded of a sign that now hangs outside my office. “May your dreams be bigger than your fears and your actions greater than your words” (Anonymous). We are either held back because of those fears and paralyzed because we refuse to take control of our lives. I must admit that most of my life certainly a propensity of mine has been to worry about the welfare of others, to my own detriment. That might work for a while, but at some point it causes resentment and anger. I know this first hand. I have become more discerning about what I will do and how I will help as well as when and why. Even when I think back to college I was the person who would help others sometimes resulting in the creation of my own perilous circumstances. I has taken me a long time to understand, or perhaps more accurately believe, that I should make sure that I am cared for. It has always seemed selfish to put myself first. Now, lest you believe that I am turning into a self-centered jerk, please to not fear. That is not the plan. I merely am working on things that are necessary for my self care before always putting the other person first. I have been reminded by a number of people this summer that I need to do that. I have always understood the logic of it, but putting it into practice takes some work.

Speaking of changes, there are others for whom I care a great deal that are going through their own changes, and they are significant. I am always amazed at how time creates changes in us. How what we perceive at one point in our life evolves into something much different. The consequences of those changes can be painful. That is what I am witnessing at the present time and my heart hurts for all affected by the impending change. I understand the reasoning, at least to some extent, but that certainly does not make it any easier. There is also the reality of the unknown when changes are undertaken. The more extensive the change, the more likely that the unknown is more frightening. I think that is what I am seeing at this point. I am also affected by the change, but there is only so much I can do, or perhaps, even should do. I think it will be a lot of using my ears and eyes and sitting back and waiting. That is also not in my nature to sit back, but learning to do so will be another important lesson for me. In many ways it is analogous to the pebble dropped in the pond and the concentric circles that emanate from that initial circle. As I often remind people, we do not live in a vacuum. As much as it might be easier, there is no such possibility. I am also reminded of something I used to tell people when I did pre-marital counseling when I was a parish pastor. I would take these starry-eyed couples that being married would be the most difficult and time-consuming job they would ever have. In my smart-ass so of way, I would also ask them how she knew that this was whose underwear she wanted to pick up for the rest of her life? Or how did he know that she was the person he would love regardless of what she asked or how she might change? Almost without exception, they would stare back with wrinkled noses and say that I was not being very romantic. So much of life is not romantic. That is reality. I have written about my father and his wisdom many times. This is another example of that wisdom. He said that each person in a marriage needs to be willing to give 150%. He went on to explain that sometimes one of the individuals cannot give what he or she needs and the other needs to pick up the slack. Yet, if the same person always picks up the slack, there will be problems. After my divorce from Susan, he noted that we had not worked together well as a couple. At first I was a bit irritated at that comment, but when I pondered and analyzed, he was absolutely correct.

Well, what I have been reminded of this summer is, as noted, there seems to be very little that is constant. And yet, in spite of the changes, there are things that connect all the changes. There is a connecting thread if you will that connects us to our past. It is those connecting points,if you will, that help us understand who we are and what truly matters to us. It is interesting to me that I am still figuring that out. I am blessed that a couple people have really pushed me to become more introspective and search myself and figure out what I need to do to better care for myself. Again being pushed from a number of directions to do so has been a pretty strong impetus, but I am grateful for yet another learning moment. Merely having the opportunity is a gift. The other day I was over at the Decker’s house and I got to catch up with Grace a bit more. She was in a playful mood and so enjoyable to be around. Bantering with her was really a fun time. She is almost 16, and an entirely normal 16 year old in some aspects. She is much smarter than she believes and she is also kinder and more approachable than she wants others to know, but that is part of her figuring out who she is. I am sure glad I do not have to go back to those times in my life.

Another change was I got the courage to speak with someone I have considered speaking to for at least three years. I have to give Melissa some credit for that. She pushed me more than she might realize, but it was a gentle and caring push and it was what I needed. So the consequence was an enjoyable afternoon. Well, I could write paragraphs yet, but there is a certain point now where that would be procrastination because I have work to do. Time to get to it. Syllabi need to be changed; BOLT courses need to be changed; my life continues to change. Later this week I will be traveling and I will try to blog from that location. Another place: another change.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

The Power of Choice

Good evening,

While I would desperately like to be sleeping right now, my mind is racing. I hope hoping the clearing of my mind through my fingertips will result in my getting to sleep, but I guess it was actually creating a list of the myriad of things I need to accomplish in the 28 days before fall semester. How in the world did this happen? It seems way too little time has passed since I was at an Art Garfunkel concert and the last academic year was only a week or two past. Melissa drove her car into the yard and we unloaded things into her room for the summer. Now in a couple weeks she returns home and we will load the car for a return trip.

The weekend was an interesting lesson about choices. About four months ago I made some significant changes in my life. I changed what I eat and what I drink and how much of those foods or beverages I will consume. I also began to teach myself Spanish. In the terms of diet, vitamins and such, the result has been substantial weight loss (over 30 pounds). I was not obese or even overly “engordo“. The weight loss has created a number of positive changes. On the other hand, what amounted to simple choices and, in this case, poor choices had profound consequences today. The consumption of two beverages (both primarily coffee) resulted in my being pretty violently ill. For someone who has lived on coffee for the last 19 years such a change is life-altering. I must admit I got both the infamous look and a stern admonishment for that poor behavior, for which I was not particularly receptive. Furthermore, I have to admit she (and her brother) was (were) right and I was wrong. It also elicited a promise of “no more coffee.” This will be difficult, but a promise is a promise. More importantly, it is about my survival. I am not being melodramatic here, just honest .

However, it brings me to the idea of choice? What are choices? Merely options? Merely a fork in the road? Merely something to ponder? What does it mean to make a choice? What sort of power do we actually have over our choices? Certainly we could go down the path of free will and all of that, but that is not really about what I am concerned in this post. Perhaps what I am trying to determine is the particular process we might use when making our choices. I do think personality and circumstances have some effect on our decisions (e.g. choices). I think our experiences, or more specifically, past experiences, also affect what we might decide. But ultimately, our choices are exactly that “ours”. We do what we do. No one hops into our head and decides or directs our choices. It might be nice if that were the case because then we could blame someone. Lord knows, we need no help in blaming, we are more than ready to blame others. We have created a society of blamers, from one individual to another to the political climate in this country to the entire “el mundo de loco“. Read the headlines of any news source today and reflect honestly on all the finger-pointing. It is outrageous. And then we wonder why so many things are so screwed up? As one of my childhood friends always said, “I am the rocket scientist you don’t need.” To which I can only reply, NO SHIT? I do not curse in my blog as a general rule, but I cannot come up with a more emphatic way to write it at the moment.

Over the weekend, I was provided the profound opportunity to experience a family gathering. I learned so much by observing. I learned again about choices and consequences. I abhor stereo-types. I have spoken to students regularly about the problems that occur when we employ these stereotypes. First of all, let me state simply; “all stereotypes are negative”; even when, on the surface,they might seem to be employed in a positive manner. They are negative because they limit or they marginalize. On the other hand, stereotypes exist because there is a modicum of truth in them somewhere. However, it is precisely because the image is based on only a kernel and often not much more that we need to realize the problem with using them.

That being said, it is much more telling when the person using the stereotype to describe a group or situation is part of that group or situation. Much like a black person employing a particular term. It is viewed very differently. I think of some of the things Bill Cosby has lamented the past few years. He had some credibility not merely because he is Bill Cosby, but rather he spoke as an insider. I would also note his income and stature could also work against him. Again, we have a choice on how we might listen to him. The point is that we always have a choice. Even when things are decided for us, we have a choice in how we will respond. I think people are too ready to abdicate their choices. Is it because they are not willing to do some critical thinking or thorough analysis? It is simply because we feel too busy or harried? Being too busy is a cop-out; if we are going to be honest about that option. We have the time to do whatever we choose to do . . . choices again. It is really about what we value.

What I have come to realize in a most profound or vast way is that we need to take control of our choices versus merely be subjected to them. I must note that while I have always known this, I am not sure I have lived it as well as I might. However, in observing a couple of specific individuals, I must say I have had a strong visual lesson in what it means to do so. I will be forever grateful for that learning opportunity. If we will slow down, ponder, question and consider our options or our responses maybe the outcomes will be more along the lines of what we might expect. Maybe our lives might be more fulfilled. Maybe we might finally understand ourselves . Maybe our world, whether it is that space we are immediately affected by or the larger and more indirectly affected, will seem less ridiculous. Maybe we will be fundamentally happier. Just my thoughts for the moment. Now it is time to sleep and begin to tackle the list in the morning.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

Learning Experiences

Hello late afternoon from NYC,

I am waiting to meet someone and have dinner and thought I should be productive rather than merely sit and surf or do nothing. It also makes time pass more rapidly. This week had been full of activity. My close friends and former colleagues came for a visit and it was wonderful to see them and have them meet people I care about here. Last Sunday, when they arrived, I had a cookout at the house and invited the Deckers and the Galáns. Unfortunately as I took my cousin to the airport the previous Wednesday, it seems I was being actually with bacterial pneumonia. I am still trying to beat it. The primary malady, at the moment, is a persistent and annoying cough. When everyone arrived last Sunday, I was not doing particularly well. In fact, I was fading pretty quickly. However, everyone stepped up and things turned out every nicely. The learning moment for me was to “let go” and allow others to take over. Things can go well without me being in charge. Rationally, I certainly realize such things, but “letting go” is not something that comes naturally to or easily for me. I already know some who really know me are rolling their eyes and probably responding “really??” (The rhetorically correct version). It was actually a wonderful evening and I was pretty laid back during it.

There was an interesting turn of events at one point during the week. Simon had a rather normal 13 year old learning moment. It was also a learning moment for his parents. One that many have gone through, but one that catches one off guard nonetheless. It reminded me of when I was a parish pastor working with confirmation students and some of the things they did won’t little understanding of consequence. Thanks to the generosity of some adults, the difficulty was minimized on one hand. The long-term consequences could, however, be really positive for a number of people. I am hoping so. More to come. I meant to draft not publish. Off to my meeting.

So it is early on Monday morning now ( actually about 2:00 a.m., but I went to bed early and now I am awake. Much like the initial part of this post. If I am going to be awake, I might as well be productive. Another learning experience of the day happened when I managed to get a parking ticket for being a bit over a line. I got the ticket when I got back to my car (it is the most expensive parking ticket I have ever gotten-$115.00). Welcome to NYC. I also decided to catch up with a student over there, so by the time I got back to Bloomsburg on Saturday morning. I was 3:00 a.m., and I was still up before 8:00. Sometimes I wish I could sleep more. Saturday, Nate, another former student from WI and a person in his 18th year in the USCG , came to visit. He drove his new Beemer up and yesterday we spent a couple hours out riding. It was enjoyable. Yesterday morning, I did my best to imitate a Dominican “desayuno” for him . . . . I did not finish writing again, but I probably will mow. The last two weeks, I have been fighting pneumonia, and while I think I am making progress it is pitifully slow. Last night was brutal as far as a fever and tonight (this morning) seems even more so. It is not quite 2:30 and this is the second time I have been up. Everything is in the washing machine and I am lying in the recliner in the study. I will actually be going to the laundromat this morning to wash my comforter too. Oh well.

This week has been let another level of experience growth. On Monday I went to see a Certified Nutritional Counselor. I found out that most of what I am doing is good, in fact, outstanding, but she added a couple things, as well as heightened in degree or extreme some of the things I am already doing. I am also on more vitamins or supplements. In some ways, ironically, I think I am healthier than I have ever been.

To return to the idea of experiences. I wonder if experience provides or instills wisdom in us as humans or it merely offers opportunities for wisdom to develop or grow? Or is it a combination of the two? For instance, what is occurring, or perhaps notoccurring, when a person continues to make decisions that seem contrary to common sense or doing the prudent thing? I would understand that free will is part of that process. It matters not the circumstance because generally there is a choice made somewhere along the line and there is a subsequent consequence. Where does the learning come in? Is wisdom a consequence? It it the by-product of reflection or something we all have and some merely fail to use it? It is sort of like a muscle and the more we use or employ it the stronger it becomes or the more it grows? I am pretty sure some have thoughts about this. You are welcome to write a response, or if you see me in person, on a semi-daily basis, perhaps we might chat in person. It sounds like garlic peeling conversation. This is one of those mornings, it is probably good that someone is close by. I feel like I am fading a bit, but perhaps it is a combination of humidity and still trying to kick this stupid pneumonia.

One of most favorite experiences is merely conversing with another person who makes me think. I mean really think, a conversation that pulls me out of my comfort zone and forces me to reconsider that which I have held as something fundamental or core to my understanding. I only know a couple people who seem to have that power or ability. It is interesting to me that generally he or she is a peer at least in terms of age. Then there is the one who continually amazes me. Perhaps not completely human? Certainly not typically human. I can already here the question, “what is typical?” I guess you will have to come up with your own definition. The point here is, I merely like thinks that force me to think or ponder. I think, as I passing the 3:00 a.m. time marker, that is part of the reason language is so important to me. Thinking and pondering require words . . . and to begin to understand another more completely, you need to be able to understand what he or she thinks. What I have learned in the past 6 months is culture affects our thought processes more than we might realize. What we take for granted or what we find suspect is heavily influenced by our cultural mores too. I think I have known this, but I am not experiencing it in a more complete way.

I, more than most, I believe look at my own country with a pretty decent balance of gratitude and concern. Both because of age and experience, I have found that reflecting on both our practices and course identity as a country is a good thing to do. I spoke of this experience with Nate over the weekend. One of the very few times I have gotten in someone’s face was when he (who had dual citizenship) was bashing the United States both unrealistically and quite vulgarly. Long story, short: I told him rather emphatically he should pack and go to his other country and quit receiving financial aid or attending American universities. I do realize the cost of the university is exorbitant, but people still attend, and I will say foolishly because they have swallowed lock, stock, and barrel the myth that it will fix everything or give one everything. Simply, not true. While I do not mind the questioning of the country or even a certain skepticism, what I do find difficult is when someone seems to have a fundamental disdain for the country, but is willing to use it’s opportunities. I guess that is how my patriotism now manifests itself. I have probably opened up all sorts of thoughts because of this. What I think I am tying to get at this moment is there is no Valhalla (except in Rasmussen Hall-those who understand this reference veritas vicit.). I am both more universalist in my faith and my acceptance of culture than I was when I walked the bluffs of Blair, Nebraska.

Again, it gets back to experience. I am grateful for every experience that has provided learning – that would be all of them. It would be my life. It is your life too. Embrace it! Experience it.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

Wondering what she really thinks?

Good morning from the study of my house,

It is a beautiful morning and I am here in the quietness and the solitude with the sun shining in the windows. I do hope to get some things accomplished today. I want to finish moving my office. I got a lot done yesterday and should finish most everything today. I was fortunate to have a couple people help yesterday so I did not have to move everything down the hall by myself. I do appreciate when people are willing to help out of the goodness of their hearts and not out of some sense of obligation. That actually gets back to my last post about freedom.

I have promised that I would write an entry to my mother. I thought about waiting until the first week of August, but I think I will do it today. It is hard to believe that she passed away 25 years ago on that early August day. What I do remember about that day most vividly is that my father signed the necessary documents to remove her from life-support (she had been on a ventilator for about 48 hours) and I remember thinking he had spent 2/3s of his life with her. He could not stand to watch her struggle after that removal, so we left the room for a cup of coffee. My younger sister chose to stay with her. When we returned in 10 or 15 minutes, she had passed away. It also makes me wonder about the reality of being the only one of that family still alive. Not what I expected, not that I know what I expected to be honest, but I am pretty sure it was not where everything is at this moment.

For many years, to be honest, I either feared or despised my mother. She was not a happy person, for many understandable reasons, but it made life difficult. That relationship has also caused me to mistrust women in general. That is a hard admission for me to make and one that I have realized from time to time, but probably never really deal with. That is why I probably struggle with some situations now. I have learned that it is easiest to be around females with whom there is no chance for a relationship. It is safer. I am still not sure what I am thinking or feeling. However, I do know now, in terms of my mother, I am not angry or bitter at her. If I feel something, and when I dig deep, I know I do feel, I think I am mostly sad or melancholy. However, I did promise to write this blog, so here is my honest and somewhat-frightened attempt.

Mom,

I wonder what you would think of where I am now? I wonder if we would even be speaking since the last three years of your life we tolerated each other at best? I wonder if you would still believe I came to your house at the amazing age of 4 to cause you trouble and pain? I wonder if you struggle with the fact that the last words you uttered were angry words at the person who spent 2/3s of his life with you? I understand he was not perfect in this situation either, but I think he struggled with how to love you when you were so angry all of the time.

If you are able to watch, did you see my response to the conversation I had with Mr. Galán, which ironically occurred on Father’s Day, and what he said that God had told him about you and how you hurt and why you hurt? He actually made me think about and look at you in a new light. As you know, we both cried that morning. I do know that growing up I think we were pretty strapped and you did most of what you did as a single parent. I did not realize how hard that must have been, particularly, if dad worked out of town because he had spoken up to the union BA. You were collateral damage and so were we. All I knew is that it was frightening to be there with you alone because you were not happy. I am sorry I could not see your side of things.

I know you worked hard to hold things together. Between coupons and sewing our clothes, from making sure we had private music lessons to allowing us to participate in Sioux City Community Theatre and the Sioux City Children’s Choir, we had opportunities that not every child had, and for that I am forever grateful. As you know, I do know my real mother, but that has not been a positive experience either, and I have little to do with my real siblings. I wonder where the second sister might be. Maybe that is something I should work on pretty soon.

I cannot imagine what it must have been like to be a single parent with an infant when you first had Sharon Kay and then tragically lost her, regardless the truth of whatever happened, as you know, there were stories. I cannot imagine losing a second child and then, at 25, being told you would never have children, especially in the middle of the baby-boomer generation. I do know that you worked hard to make sure things around the home were neat and taken care of, and I know that we were all part of that with our daily chores. I know that as I grew you struggled with my relationship with Grandma and I know that you probably feared her because she had been Kris’s and my mother at one point. She was an amazing lady; perhaps the only one I have ever completely trusted. I do think she hoped good things for all of us, and would include you. I know she understood out situation well and she hurt because of it.

Much like a 3rd step, let me offer some things that really caused me hurt and influenced how I reacted and responded to you. I remember being sick and at home on the couch (this was actually in the 900 LaPlante House) and I had an accident because of the flu. You whipped me for that, probably because I was afraid to tell you about the accident and I might have lied when you asked. I had welts from that whipping. Is this too much to tell in a blog, I am not sure? I remember when Dad had the heart attack and I was staying at Grandma’s house that summer because I worked two jobs. You called her and told her to keep me because you did not want me (at least that is how it was relayed to me) and then when I found out about the heart attack and Dad being in the hospital, you told me it was all my fault. I was 16 and that frightened me beyond words. It also hurt me. I remember coming home from college and, indeed, my hair was long and I had a beard. You told me, in front of people at church, that I was ugly. I was embarrassed and hurt. That created a confrontation at lunch that day and I lost my temper. I am sorry for that. In fact, you were the only person on whom I ever lost my temper growing up. Again, I am sorry. I responded out of hurt and what I know is while I do not lose my temper often now, it is usually because I have been hurt by someone, and that someone, whoever it is, is someone for whom I have great care. I remember the scene after Susan was hurt by your actions and I stuck up for her. Again, I apologize for my not handling it better. Perhaps the thing I remember most was your telling me that you believed that Kris and I came to your house to only create trouble. We were 3 and 4 years old. As I said then, and would even now, we did not understand why we had to come to a new house. We did not understand the new rules or expectations. I am sure you did not anticipate the difference having two new people in the house would create or that you would be doing it most of the time on your own. I think it must have been really tough and overwhelming. What I want you to know about the things I have just mentioned is that I forgive you. I hope from wherever you are you might forgive me.

I wish that circumstances would have been better for you. I wish you might have had a situation where you knew you were loved and cared for. I think that Dad loved you, but he did not like you very much. I have thought about that often because I never really saw any signs of real affection for you. In fact, I have said at times, I think he was abusive in a sort of neglectful way. Sure, he worked hard and you had money to pay the bills, but I do not think you had a partner in that marriage. That had to be terrifically difficult. You were also put in the place of having to always be the disciplinarian, and face it, that is neither enjoyable or appreciated from those receiving the discipline. What I have been pushed to realize is that you wanted people to love you and care for you, but no one really did. I am so sorry for that. If I could offer anything to you now it is simply this. Thank you for all you did to try to parent us. Thank you for the opportunities you gave us, often going without yourself. Thank you for never really giving up on us. Please forgive me for the times I hurt you, ignored you, and mistreated you. I wonder what you would tell me now? I wonder what you have told Bob or Dad or Kris? Do you see them wherever you all are? Are you waiting for the last one of the family to get there? I am trying to write through the tears at this point. Please know that I am still glad I grew up in the Martin house. Please know that I forgive you and I am not angry for anything. I am working through those difficulties yet today. Sometimes I do pretty well and sometimes I do not.

As you know I have two somewhat surrogate children now. It has been a growing experience and I am learning every day. I just want to do it well. No, more accurately, I want to do it perfectly. I know that is not reasonable, but they are both such amazing people. Jordan is kind and caring. He is handsome and loves his family deeply. I have learned so much from the Galán family in that way. Melissa is fiercely independent, to the point of my consternation at times, but she too is compassionate and caring. She is as beautiful as Jordan is handsome. I have learned so much from watching the two of them. As you can probably tell, I love them both deeply. In someways, I am like you, never allowed to have my own children (in my case, at all), did you worry about being a parent? I was afraid I would fail as a parent. I guess I do even as a surrogate, but I pick myself up and I keep trying.

I guess I hope you know that I am grateful and I hope you know that I really hope that you have found some sense of peace.

Thank you for listening to me and I do love you.

To everyone else, thanks for reading.

Michael

Freedom . . . from what? for whom?

Good early afternoon (on the day after the 4th of July),

The fourth of July brings back many memories for me. The earliest, and reoccurring, memoryis that of going to McCook Lake, SD with the Goedes, our family’s closest friends (both of our parents were perhaps major amigos). The other reason we went to South Dakota, which was only 5 minutes away from where I grew up in Iowa, is they had much laxer fireworks laws. However, every 4th for many years were spent at the Izzak Walton Club on the lake, swimming, grilling out, and shooting off fireworks most of the day. That is one of my favorite memories as a child. As I write this I am thinking of my best life-long friend, who is also part of that same Goede family as he struggles with ALS. Hard to believe in our 50s so much as changed. Here is a picture of when I actually had color besides gray on my head and in my beard.

As you who read know, I have been distracted and I am now just finishing my blog posting. Today is a day to get a number of tasks completed and I will try to get back to the initial intentions for this blog, the idea of freedom from what? or for whom? On the 4th I actually drove to Philadelphia and picked up my cousin, Diane, who has come to visit for a few days. It was probably the easiest trip I have ever made to Philly as the traffic was almost non-existent. On Saturday we went on a pretty long ride on the Harley and it was a beautiful day to do that. Sunday included a trip to NYC and a venue called Small’s Jazz Club, where we had the opportunity to listen to some amazing music and a participate in a colleague’s book signing. Some amazing food, a ferry ride, and a really long walk would describe the day, but it was a good day. Monday and yesterday were spent just enjoying time together and listening and sharing. I might have created a dilemma for myself in allowing two of the most important people in my life the opportunity to compare notes, but that is a chance one takes I guess.

It is actually about 2:30 in the morning (on the 9th) and I have been awake for about an hour, so I figured I should be productive. I started to move offices yesterday and I hoped to have that completed by week’s end. They are finishing some work on the little house today, and I sat down yesterday and mapped out the remainder of my summer. It is time for me to get back to work. I have actually taken quite of bit of time to relax this summer. That is a first in many years. I do have colleagues from WI here next week. I am hoping to acquaint them with the group I am putting together to help me manage what is to come. Diane asked me a number of times, “who takes care of you?” Well, I think after meeting Deckers last night, she is feeling better. Last night we got a dancing demonstration from Carolyn and Rosie. It was quite amazing and endearing beyond words. I am cognizant of a reality that I have let people into my life in ways I haven’t for a long time, if ever. There are times I am glad, but there are consequences too. It has made me more vulnerable, and I find that more disconcerting than one might think. It forces me to give up some control of my existence, or at least it seems so. That does not make me entirely comfortable. However, going back to work will help me manage some of that.

I guess that brings me to the posting title? What is freedom? Is it something individual? Certainly, it is. Is it corporate? John Locke actually addressed this in his “Second Treatise on Civil Government”. Indeed, when we are a society, whether that be a small group, a few like-minded-people or a larger entity, we give up things by the fact that we “bind” ourselves together. I cannot help but see Mel Gibson in the movie, Braveheart screaming out “freedom!!” as his last word. A bit melodramatic, but profound. What really provides a sense of freedom? Is it knowing what is to come? It is accepting what is to come? Is it the realization of knowing in an individual way what ultimately matters? What I am beginning to believe is that it is more than merely acceptance, but it is a belief and a comfort in the phrase “well-done, good and faithful servant”. But to what or whom are we in service? I believe that the term “serve” is often misunderstood. I think it is in serving or caring for others we actually begin to understand freedom. It frees us from selfishness. It frees us from always wanting more. A server has more power when she or he is serving than realized. She or he has much more influence on the circumstances than one might believe. I have the ability, the power if you will, to make some difference in another’s life when I care for them. It certainly has some other more difficult attributes or characteristics, but I think the positive far outweighs the negative. As I eluded, I am quite sure this specific element of my being was scrutinized the other afternoon. I understand my propensity for this more than might be realized. I also realize that fear hampers the very freedom I have been pondering. I can name that fear. I could before the conversations of the last few days, but Diane’s visit has validated some of the things I have puzzled upon for many years of my life. My biggest fear is a simple word, but a profound concept in my life. It is abandonment. It can have other synonyms, but that is the most accurate and comprehensive of the options.

To be abandoned is to be given the message that you are unimportant, irrelevant, discardable. What I have realized is if I move, walk-away, hide before someone can do it to me, I keep from being hurt. If I give versus being given-to, I protect myself on one level, but I expose myself on another. Being exposed is frightening; it is something that has often crested pain. It might be that unexpected problem of taking a chance and allowing another into your life or space. To be given away or ignored has been a safety net at times, but then again, it has been hurtful at others. Am I in the midst of walking away in a more profound way in this present circumstance? What happens when we are required to move, perhaps like when I left Wisconsin? What happens when other things force us to prepare for the other? Have I lost my freedom or have I gained it? It is 3:40 and I have to drive to Philadelphia and back today, perhaps a bit more sleep is in order. As an afterthought, I did go back to sleep, but was up at out of the house by 5:50. Perhaps a nap later will be in order also.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

Imagining the Other

Good Morning,

I am often amazed at the body’s ability to rejuvenate itself. By the time I went to sleep last night, I think I was both brain-dead and physically exhausted. I did not wake up the entire night and I think it was around 12:30 or 1:00 a.m. , but I woke at 5:20 and I was up and on the road before 6:00. I am sitting at the Bloomsburg Diner counter on the “group w” stool (for those who get the reference, awesome).

It was an interesting week, but a good one. I have made it three nights without a fever. That is only the second time since the middle of May. It astounds me how our perspective on what matters and what can make us happy changes as our life situation changes. As I have gotten to know my Dominican family, and they have so graciously included me in their family, I have learned some valuable things by observing and listening to them. It is very interesting to see how families interact and manage their lives (and that includes their individual actions as well as their corporate actions). Both from having Melissa as a summer guest and from listening to each of them, I have learned how another family, and in this case (and I do believe it is both) another culture communicates. It was last night that a number of pieces seemed to fall into place in my mind.

Earlier this week, their version of “the family meeting” occurred at Martin’s Acre. While it might not have held a candle as far as duration, I do believe it was as productive as one occurring on Peace Street. I just realized another irony as I noted the street name. Hmmmmm. After my last posting, and while some of it related in a singular manner, more of it was about my frailties or habits, the conversation that ensued was perhaps one of the more productive to which I have ever been a party. The consequence was a renewed faith in what two people can accomplish if there is honest and open communication. A second consequence was a significantly lowered stress level.

I did not plan to be gone last night, but the remainder of the weekend should be pretty low key. I actually appreciate that quietness and that is certainly a difference from earlier in my life. On the other hand, the coming week will be anything, but quiet. Between birthdays, a really long day of driving Tuesday and a trip to the Philadelphia airport on Friday, the beginning of two very hectic weeks is upon me. I still want to go to Spain and I am not sure how to manage that. However, it does appear that a trip to the Dominican Republic in August is beginning to become more likely. Though a small conversation with Jordan and his mother causes me some pause because I feel badly about a larger more significant issue. Sometimes not knowing enough gets us in trouble; on the other hand, knowing too much can also be troublesome. I am still working studiously on my Spanish, but I feel like I am not progressing as quickly as I was. I want to listen and comprehend, but I feel like a pain if I ask for clarification. I just wish I knew more yesterday. There is my struggle with patience. Today, I need to just do some significant time with Rosetta Stone and with vocabulary cards. I think that is a way to manage the drive on Tuesday also. I think I will be keeping Jordan busy as he navigates.

It is now 24 hours later; I am still writing. I began the morning by cleaning up the kitchen, which I actually left unfinished last night. That is not typical, but I was tired. This morning I am cleaning and stripping beds and painting and mopping and all the other things needed. I actually enjoy most of it because I feel better when it is all completed. I am amazed how dusty things can get in only a day or two. I also have some things to pick up and get managed before I have people in the house this week. Melissa has been scanning almost 40 years worth the photographs for me to digitize them. I have also realized I have another project for her along the same line, but I have to go back to Wisconsin to get it all. I think that could keep her busy for the entire next year she is here, that is assuming she will want to do it.

The last three days or maybe four, I have felt pretty good. I am learning to appreciate those times, and I know I cannot take anything for granted, not that any of us really can. When I was in graduate school I took a class called “Rhetoric of Alterity”. It was a wonderful class taught by Dieter Adolphs and it considered the group of intellectuals that left Germany in the 20s and 30s as Germany was reeling under the weight of the war reparations and as Hitler came to power. As I was writing my dissertation on Dietrich Bonhoeffer, this made a lot of sense to me and it was profoundly interesting. While this might be a stretch for some of you to see how I get from that to what comes next, please bear with me. I wonder if when we are fighting within our bodies with an auto-immune syndrome if we are in someways similar to the refugees who chose to leave Germany in the 30s and struggled to understand who they were or where they belonged. When our body becomes the other, who are we? Where do we belong? These earthy shells in which we reside are amazing, complex, and miraculous, but they are merely a shell. As I noted a few posts ago, I have been doing some reading and I have also done some listening. I am sad I had other engagements and missed an event last night that would have addressed some of this again. I am still not comfortable with the idea that we are inside God. I think it sets up a situation where we have the ability to blame or shirk responsibility for that which we do, not necessarily to the other person, but certainly to God. I believe if we are all deities, we have merely taken on a different form of pantheism and that is a problem for me. There is, of course, the other extreme that there is no God and then we are merely walking about in our temporal way until we become compost. Perhaps, in reference to my last post, that would be safer. When I was speaking with Melissa’s father about his next event, he showed me a few of his slides. He noted that God is experimenting. He asked me what I thought about such a statement, and I asked what he meant by “experimenting”? He said Melissa needed to be around to help with translation. That will have to be another event in an of itself because my immediate reaction to being experimented upon is not a positive one, and if it is God doing it, I am really not happy. Again, my immediate response is this makes “God capricious”. I want no part of such a God, but it would certainly make present circumstances easier to explain. Where in the midst of God experimenting does free will fit, and is it really free or merely a guise of freedom? If we are inside God, as argued, then are we merely in a bubble like a hamster? I do not write this to be smug or simplistic, but if God is not outside of us, there is no real compass or direction in which we are actually aware or required to go, it is all temporal. It really does not matter in the big picture. There is no “other”. It reminds me of another one of Melissa’s writing characteristics. First let me say that she (and Jordan) are outstanding writers. Much better than most any student I have ever met, but she, almost always, writes “God” with a lower-case “g”. I am wondering now if this is intentional and part of her religious position or belief? Hmmmmm. As you can see my brain is spinning around inside my head as if often does. So am I spinning around inside or outside of God? This is my question and the thought of being inside of God still is not something I find easily digestible. Of course, with my Crohn’s there are lots of things I do not digest well.

Thanks for reading.

Michael