Month: April 2011

Flashback Friday

Obviously, the 1980s. Christmas.

Left to right: My sister Annie, my cousin Sarah, me, my cousin Stephanie, my sister Gwen. The odd passerby in the background, my brother, Matt.

I’ve been thinking about the 80s quite a bit recently. For one, when Anne and I had dinner together on Saturday, she told me about her recent experience working on the Oprah “Rock Divas of the 80s” episode starring Stevie Nicks, Pat Benatar, Joan Jett and Sisters Sledge. Quite a line-up!

From both the hair and clothing, I can tell that this photo, taken in my parents’ home, was snapped during the latter half of the decade, when four of the Hanson siblings lived in Iowa City (for a brief time) at the same time. And yes, that is a cigarette in my hand — proof positive that it is possible to quit, since I would venture a guess that many of you didn’t know I was ever a smoker!

Mid-bloom

I follow National Geographic on Twitter. Just as has always been true of their magazine, they publish amazing snapshots, including  this photo (click link, at site go to April Week 3, sunflower photo April 12) of a sunflower in mid-bloom. When I saw this, it seemed such an apt metaphor for so many things: those moments when we are on the cusp of something new, when we are being born into a new self – whether that is due to a new perspective, a new relationship, a flowering of potential we’ve carried within and are now expressing.

Tuesday, it seemed the metaphor for an unplanned moment of revelation. We were to have a speaker for a motivational presentation at 9:00 a.m. Unfortunately, our speaker woke with a fever and was forced to cancel. There wasn’t time to call off the event, so we regrouped with the ten or so people in attendance and asked them to share what inspires them. In a wonderfully serendipitous moment, a woman in the group chose to share her life story. It was one of transformation and self-discovery after a painful beginning which included alcoholism and low self-esteem. Her turning point came after watching her daughter succeed in breaking the example provided by the two preceding generations of her family. This woman revealed, fresh petal by fresh petal, the new person she is becoming, the beautiful new life she is creating. It was both inspiring and moving to be part of that moment.

Which offers a real contrast to my current state, because today a flower frozen in mid-bloom feels like an appropriate metaphor for where I am in my life. I was like a tightly closed bud, carrying the potential to bloom, but waiting for the right combination of sun and rain and nutrients to open.  In the past year and a half, I have felt myself opening, one petal at a time. Most of the time in recent months, I have felt the energy of new life in my veins. I have literally felt growth and movement.

But not now.

This week, I feel like I’ve run out of juice or as if there isn’t enough sunlight to produce the necessary photosynthesis (I’m sure I would be applying this metaphor more gracefully if I had paid attention in high school biology). The petals that have opened are lovely and I am proud of them. I very much wish the rest to open so I feel both wholly lovely and more complete. Less unfinished. But I suddenly find I am casting a shadow over myself, blocking my own sunlight: through procrastination, through permissive self-talk (“go ahead, eat that donut/cookie/whole package of rice thins, it won’t hurt this once”), through choosing not to follow through. By letting myself off the hook.

I’m not sure how to unfreeze from this weird stasis I’ve entered into. Perhaps I just got distracted by how pretty those first open petals are – like Narcissus, who fell in love with his own reflection, I’ve spent too much time in awe of myself, congratulating myself on what is done. And now, realizing that I still have half my blooming to do, I vacillate between impatience and paralysis.

One thing I do know for sure from sad experience as a child: you cannot force a flower to bloom by prying its petals open. Just wanting it isn’t enough, either. I will have to get back to holding myself accountable, though right now that feels almost insurmountably hard. This isn’t going to be one of those blog posts where I tie things up neatly with a final statement of what I’ve learned or an inspirational quote. Instead, it is one of those posts where I end with a shrug and say, I’ll let you know what happens next.

(Note: sorry I couldn’t show the photo in a less a clunky way, but I understand National Geographic’s need to maintain control of their incredible images. Hope you are able to find the sunflower!)

Thursday, April 14, 2011

This morning, I just couldn’t step on the scale and take a photo. I snapped this before I decided to bite the bullet and see what the scale said (which was 220). I have promised to use this blog to honestly share the ups and downs of long-term change, and this week is one of the down-er moments. Everything is going well – there haven’t been any major incidents or anything to cause concern – just my internal struggle to make good choices and to live congruently with my values.

…Changing the Dream (part 2 of 2)

“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

–MLK Jr.

 

When I was in graduate school, we used a visualization activity called “The Perfect Future Day Fantasy”, in which we were to imagine ourselves waking up on a “perfect” weekday 10 years into our future. I specifically remember processing this activity with a group of fellow students, when one friend said that, in his perfect day, he was presiding over negotiations to reunify Germany. We all laughed at him, saying “As if…that will never happen.” That was 1987. By the end of 1990, German reunification was a reality.

In the “Awakening the Dreamer, Changing the Dream” symposium, the module which discusses “What is possible for the future”, asks us to shift our perspective from what is probable to what is possible. We live in a cynical world (did I really just quote Jerry McGuire?!). A world in which many of us look at the enormous issues confronting us and decide they are so over-arching, so all-encompassing, that we can do nothing…and we therefore continue in our comfortable dream world.

And yet. Apartheid ended. Change is sweeping through the Middle East. Millions of people the world over are participating in organizations and movements to make justice, sustainability, spiritual fulfillment real in the world in new and creative ways. Just a few who have inspired me: Emmanuel Jal, Curt Ellis and Food Corps, Annie Leonard, and so many others. Each of these individuals has taken their unique talents and skills and employed them in service to justice and creating a different dream for the world. And I am heartened to know there are millions of others, whose names and faces I may never know, but whose voices are represented by an activist in the symposium video module who says, “We didn’t believe we could change anything, but we did it anyway.”

Inspiration is important. It needs to translate into action in order for me to be part of co-creating a new dream for our world (a universal Perfect Future Day Fantasy!). But what can I do? I’ve thought about this long and hard in the week since attending the symposium. First, I can talk – that’s something I’m good at! – and write about what is in my heart. Second, I can start with the environments I am already a part of. For example, on Thursday, the symposium attendees from my university met for lunch to discuss an action plan to bring the symposium, and active outgrowths from it, to our campus community. I can evaluate the corporations with which I do business, and make a conscious effort to support those who use a “triple bottom line – people, planet, profit”. Because food and hunger are issues which are already important to me, I can recommit myself to work on these with my time, talents, and treasure.

It would be overwhelming if we looked at all that needs to be done and thought that we, personally, needed to do it all. Heck, even thinking that we need to do something big, make one grand gesture, is an overwhelming idea. What I am discovering, though, is that each of us has within us the ability to make a difference. If we stop thinking it needs to be a difference that the whole world will see and recognize, and instead think of it as a difference that changes our hearts and touches at least one other, it becomes much less daunting. Do I really think that will change where the earth is headed? You bet I do. And I am far from alone in that:

“It is a moral universe despite all appearances to the contrary.”

–Desmond Tutu

“Never underestimate the power of dreams and the influence of the human spirit.”

–Wilma Rudolph



Triple Word Tuesday

I FORGOT TUESDAY!

 

OK, I know Tuesdays are supposed to be three words only. But I just discovered that, not only did I forget Triple Word Tuesday (I’m making it in just under the wire here!), but part 2 of my Thursday post did not publish on Saturday. I had it ready, and I remember posting it, but there must have been a glitch. I ran out the door immediately afterwards and did not double-check (which I generally do). So, in case you were waiting for that post, I WILL post it in the morning.

My apologies for lack of attentiveness – I won’t let it happen again!

Flashback Friday

In this photo:  Jeff and Gwen

There were a couple of times each year all six children were dressed up and forced to pose for photos: Christmas and, as above, Easter.  Both Jeff and Wendy are dressed in their Easter finery (I am certain Wendy’s dress was made by my mother, Shirley). I know it is a holiday because, in addition to the clothes, Wendy’s hair has been pin-curled.  These details are all part of the charm of this photo for me. However, it must be clear to everyone looking at the picture, that the real reason I love it is the look of mutual adoration being shared between these two. Jeff is the protective and loving big brother to Wendy’s trusting little sister. Regardless of any changes their relationship may have undergone as the years passed, there can be no doubt that they loved each other!

Awakening The Dreamer…(part 1 of 2)

“I don’t think an authentic stand comes from your head. I think an authentic stand comes from your heart.” Van Jones

A couple of weeks ago, I flew with friends to Vegas for a long weekend. It was fun, but while we were there, our conversation returned several times to the artificiality of the environment. Vegas is about the least authentic place on earth. I remember one comment about the waste of both water and electricity in that city in the desert. But, like the hundreds of thousands of others there for St. Patrick’s Day (or March Madness or Spring Break), we were there to have fun. We didn’t dwell on anything as deep as what it meant to participate in the inauthenticity and waste that are the hallmarks of the Las Vegas experience. We were there to conspicuously consume, gamble, eat and gawk – not to think too much.

And so our three days in Vegas passed in an almost trance-like state. We ate when we felt like it, we drank when we felt like it, we slept as little as possible no matter what we felt like. Most of the time, I had no idea what time of day it was, nor did I track what I was spending. I was awake and moving, but a large part of me was asleep.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, to Saturday, April 2. 9:00 a.m. found me seated in a conference room, holding my Starbuck’s venti Americano in the iconic paper cup, ready for a symposium I was attending for work. The truth is, I wasn’t sure what to expect, because I hadn’t really paid attention to what the symposium was about other than a vague idea that is was related to sustainability. I also was not thrilled to be spending another Saturday at a work-related event.

Five minutes into the symposium, I was crying. It would be difficult for me to tease apart the complex threads of emotion the symposium evoked, but it was comprised of shame, grief, fear, pain. In one of the symposium’s video modules, Joanna Macy says not to be afraid to feel the pain associated with what we are learning. She says we need to feel the pain, and follow it to what it springs from – which is love. Love of this earth, love of our fellow humans, love of our fellow inhabitants of the planet.

The name of the powerful symposium, “Awakening the Dreamer, Changing the Dream”, is now etched on my memory. As is the goal of the alliance who created it: “Bringing forth an environmentally sustainable, spiritually fulfilling, and socially just human presence on this planet.” What resonates with me about this particular take on our environmental future is, first, the direct line of connection drawn between the environment, spirit and social justice. Second, the hopeful stance taken that we can, indeed, change the trajectory we are currently moving along.

“Awakening the dreamer” speaks to the idea that most of us in wealthy, privileged societies, are living in a kind of trance or dream which allows us to “not know” that our choices, our consumption, our distraction have real and damaging consequences in the world. The video modules tell a powerful story of this dream world we’re living in, and it rings true. My friends and I experienced it in a palpable way in Vegas, where it was so exaggerated that it actually impinged on our consciousness (most days in our normal routines, we never even notice we are living in a dream).

And here’s the thing: I think many of us have, for a while, been on the verge of waking up. You know, like those times when you are lying in bed and start to wake up, maybe you even crack your eyes open — only to quickly tell yourself to just close them again and you’ll get back to sleep. I’ve peeked at this world and quickly closed my eyes again because it is so much easier to stay asleep. I don’t have to recycle. I don’t have to make my own coffee or argue with the barrista to put it in my reusable mug. As long as I can continue to “not know”, I can enjoy the lights on the Vegas strip without thinking about the Navajo people living at Black Mesa.

But how authentic or just or spiritually fulfilling is that? Maybe we should just take a deep breath and open our eyes.

The most remarkable feature of this historical moment on Earth is not that we are on the way to destroying the world — we’ve actually been on the way for quite a while. It is that we are beginning to wake up, as from a millennia-long sleep, to a whole new relationship to our world, to ourselves and each other.

— Joanna Macy

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Thursday, April 7, 2011, originally uploaded by jhnsn728.

I am always aware that it is better to maintain than to gain. However, it is frustrating to stay focused and disciplined, then hang out in the same spot on the scale!  There are changes and growth – in stamina and energy, for example.  Last night, my first time out on a bike since October, I was able to ride 15 miles easily. That felt great – especially considering that it took a good part of last summer to work up to 15 miles. I take pleasure in these markers, but I still want to see the results on the scale!