Neighbors?

I don't get as much junk mail via the U.S. Postal Service as I used to. In fact, I don't get as much mail as I used to. How technology changes the world we live in.

Today in my mailbox I found a postcard-sized folder addressed to "Our Neighbor," with a return address in San Antonio, TX. It's a mass marketing piece from JP Morgan Chase Bank NA, which used to be Chase Bank, and before that Chase Manhattan Bank. I can walk to the nearest Chase branch in about 20 minutes, but does that really make it my neighbor?

The young woman who lived upstairs from me and offered me a ride to the station one morning when I was waiting for the shuttle to the airport, she was my neighbor.

The young couple I helped to shovel out their cars in our parking lot after one of our winter storms, they are my neighbors.

The member of my EfM group who drove me home several times when my car didn't work, and who I now take back and forth to class because her family is down one car, she is my neighbor.

The homeless woman I used to pass in Grand Central Terminal in the City for a number of years and wanted a hug and some conversation more than money and prayers, she was my neighbor.

But the branch of a large, multi-national, financial corporation?

But wanting to justify himself, [the lawyer] asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’ Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’ Luke 10:29-37 NRSV

Jesus is talking about people. People are our neighbors. JP Morgan Chase Bank NA may be in my neighborHOOD, but it is not my neighbor. Some of my neighbors probably work at the branches closest to where I live, but the bank is not my neighbor.

I receive many mass marketing pieces and advertisements in the mail that are addressed to "Our Neighbor," but for some reason, today I found myself incensed by JP Morgan Chase NA's presumption that it is my neighbor.

I'm a person, not a mailing address.

View from the Window at Midmorning

When I woke up this morning, it was raining. A couple of hours later, while on a conference call, I happened to look out the window, and it was snowing! The second day of Spring, and it's snowing. Sheesh!

I took this picture from my window just after the snow changed back to rain.

This is the same window that I took the pictures of the moon, the droplets, and the icicles. I think I have the start of a series..

Full Moon in the Trees

The Hands of Ministry

Last month we began a Shawl Ministry at Grace Church. It is proving popular, and people are enjoying it. Some of us knit, and some of us crochet. We teach each other and assist each other, so not everyone was knitting or crocheting today.  We share techniques and share stories as we work on our shawls.

These are the hands of our ministry.

Spring is Coming

This morning I woke up to rain, which stopped by mid-morning. A couple of hours later I looked out the window to see this:

These are the same branches that I photographed with icicles a few weeks ago.

Staying on Track

My whole sense of time became discombobulated even before last weekend's change to Daylight Saving Time. Being unemployed, I have no set daily schedule. Being a night person, I now stay up later, and as a result, get up later in the morning. I can even lose track of what day it is.

However, a job hunt does call for some structure. So I use two white boards to organize my week.

The larger on is 11"x17", and I kept it in my office to help with brainstorming and project management. It now serves as my weekly schedule. I took this idea from Mom, who keeps a white board in the kitchen by the back door with the week's stuff on it. Even though I keep a calendar, having the week displayed prominently keeps me on track for appointments and major/regular tasks. The items in red are things I need to do every week. Green is for the current week, and blue (at least this week) reminds me of things that take place in the future but that I need to be aware of in order to make sure they get done.

The smaller one is 8.5"x11", and I used it for a variety of things at home. It has become my daily To Do List. Sometimes I find I need to list things that should be habit, part of my regular routine. For instance, this week I started putting taking a walk and practicing my flute on the list. Some structure is necessary, even if only minimal, otherwise things seem to fall by the wayside. Even things I like to do.

Today, well, technically it was yesterday, since it is after midnight, but I haven't been to bed yet, so for me, it's still "today". Today, I finished everything on the To Do List, except for one item that requires an answer from another person. I even took care of a couple of things from tomorrow's list. Providing myself with some structure helps me manage things more effectively. And not just the job hunt.

At some point in the near future, I will have a new job. Of course, that will mean readjusting to keeping more regular business hours. No more staying up until 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning and sleeping until 9:00 a.m. or later.

In the meantime, my body clock should adjust to Daylight Saving Time in another couple of weeks.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Discombobulated has been part of our family vocabulary for years, but I think today is the first time I've ever spelled it correctly. I always thought it was "disconbobulated." Thank you, Spell Check! (Although, as I did today, I do sometimes verify what Spell Check tells me by looking up the word in the dictionary.)

Who Are the Elders and Wise Ones in Your Life?

This morning I led the fourth in a series of Sharing Our Stories sessions at my parish. I have a variety of exercises in my repertoire to help folks think about, record, and share their stories. Today I introduced the group to Spidering, also called Clustering, Mindmapping, Webbing, and a handful of other names. Often they're used as pre-writing exercises, but sometimes they can simply be the tool used to record.

We used the clusters to explore Elders or Wise Ones in our lives. Several members of the group were surprised at some of the memories the exercise triggered. Here is mine:

The emerging theme I saw, at least today, was one of people who supported and encouraged me, who nurtured my gifts and my interests. Many of them also taught me that hard work and fun are not incompatible. In a country that prides itself on its legacy of the Puritan Work Ethic, that is not an inconsiderable lesson.

Mom tells about her experience with the clustering here on her blog.

After everyone who wished to had shared, I passed out prayer cards that I'd made with cross images on the front and blank on the reverse. On the blank side we wrote the names of the elders we remembered and prayed for them as part of our closing prayers.  This is a practice I learned from my friend Trudy. I find it's a good way to tie our stories to the greater story and to bring a session to a close.

As I did today, I will sometimes use both "Elders" and "Wise Ones" because not everyone who fills that role in our lives is actually our elder in terms of age. Some are peers, and some are younger. Teachers come in many guises.

And don't forget that we are Elders and Wise Ones for others.

For the Elders and Wise Ones who have been in our lives, for those who are in our lives now, and for those yet to enter our lives, thanks be to God.

We're All Musicians

Teacher and performer D. Brian Lee has posted "Why instrumentalists should sing" on his web site.

There are times when I've been in institutions or organizations where singers were not considered musicians. Sometimes it was a matter of semantics, but at other times, it was considered a truth. I've never understood what I've always considered a false dichotomy. I've sung for as long as I can remember, and I've played instruments off and on since I was eight, beginning with the violin and including a stint with the guitar. When I played the guitar I was somewhat aware that playing an instrument made me a better singer, but it really hit home when I started playing the flute at 16. And I've sung in choirs where I was aware that my vocal practice made me a better flutist.

Some of us are instrumentalists, some of us are vocalists, and some of us are both. We are all musicians.

Trees at Twilight

One of the first things one of my friends told me when she learned I'd lost my job was, "Make sure you get out of the house every day." Wise words from a wise woman. Most days I do.

Yesterday I went to the local Barnes & Noble to have a cup of coffee, read, and people watch. As evening came I happened to look out the window across the parking lot and saw the bare trees silhouetted against the twilight sky. I thought "I wish I could capture that, but I just don't draw well enough." Then I remembered I had my camera with me.

Too Similar for Comfort

Rep. Pete King

Sen. Joseph McCarthy

I'm not sure what Rep. King's goals are, but let us not forget Special Council for the Army Joseph Welch's words to Senator McCarthy: "Have you no sense of decency sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?"



What I'm Reading

What I'm currently reading, is near the top of the list on my Kindle, and/or have out from the library:

• German: the Biography of a Language, by Ruth H. Sanders
• The Old Patagonia Express: By Train Through the Americas, by Paul Theroux
• A People's History of the United States, by Howard Zinn
• Richard and John: Kings at War, by Frank McLynn
• Titanic: The Death and Life of a Legend, by Michael Davie
• Transatlantic: Samuel Cunard, Isamabard Brunel, and the Great Atlantic Steamships, by Stephen Fox
• Warriors of God: Richard the Lion Heart and Saladin in the Third Crusade, by John Reston, Jr.
• Zephyr: Tracking a Dream across America, by Henry Kisor

What I've read over the past two-and-a-half months:

• Murder at the War, by Mary Monica Pulver
• Mahu Men, by Neil S. Plakcy
• Intrigues, by Mercedes Lackey
• Mary Ann in Autumn, by Armistead Maupin
• One for the Money, by Janet Evanovich
• Gwenhwyfar the White Spirit, by Mercedes Lackey
• Language Visible, by David Sacks
• Portrait of a Lady, by Diane a. S. Stuckart
• The Sleeping Beauty, by Mercedes Lackey
• Council of the Cursed, by Peter Tremayne
• Lord of the White Hell (Book One), by Ginn Hale
• Dissolution, by C. J. Sansome
• The Mosaic of Shadows, by Tom Harper
• Booked on the Morning Train, by George F. Scheer III

And conversely, what I'm NOT reading: What's in my To Read pile (and on my Kindle) that keeps finding it's way to the bottom of the pile:

• Always We Begin Again: The Benedictine Way of Living, by John McQuiston II
• Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years, by Diarmaid MacCulloch
• From age to Age: How Christians Have Celebrated the Eucharist, by Edward Foley
• A History of the Church in England, by J. R. H. Moorman
• Jesus Wars: How Four Patriarchs, three Queens, and Two Emperors Decided What Christians Would Believe for the Next 1,500 Years, by Philip Jenkins
• Narrative Leadership: Rediscovering the Life-Giving Nature of Stories, The Alban Institute
• Storycatcher: Making Sense of Our Lives through the Power and Practice of Story, by Christina Baldwin
• Thieves in the Temple: The Christian Church and the Selling of the American Soul, by G. Jeffrey MacDonald

There's a pattern here, and it is deliberate. I'm quite enjoying reading travelogues, mysteries, science fiction, fantasies, and anything not church-related for the moment, thank you.

Drive Like An Old Lady

I got my car back today. Almost three months and $2,000 worth of work later, and it runs again. It's been in the shop only a week. The two-and-a-half month wait was procrastination on my part (I had a feeling it would be an expensive repair) and the chain of winter storms. While $2,000 takes a large portion of my severance, it could have been worse. And the car runs better than it did before.

I have done all right without the car because I'm lucky enough to live in a location where pretty much everything I need is within walking distance. Almost everything else is accessible by public transportation. Not quite as convenient as using my car, but doable with a little advance planning. Friends and family were good about helping out when the weather was bad, or I needed to do some major shopping. It saved me some money, too, as I've watched gas prices soar over the last three months.

I'll probably continue to walk to church, the bank, the library, and a few other places. I'm also going to make an appointment to take my bicycle in for an overhaul. I used to get around almost exclusively by bike or on foot until I was 23.

But having a working car is extremely helpful in the middle of a job search. And I'll feel less isolated because I'll be able to visit friends and not have to worry about when the buses and trains stop running. Plus I'll be able to get to board meetings that are three or more hours' drive away.

Did I tell you how relieved I am to have my car running again?

The problem was what I thought it was. The timing belt went, and it took out the valves when it snapped. The most frustrating part of the situation was that two days before the belt snapped I'd made the appointment to take the car in to have the belt and the water pump looked at. You'd think they'd design car engines differently, since this is a common problem.

Because the valves have essentially been replaced, the service manager said it would take about 200 miles of easy driving for them to settle in. I asked him if that meant no highway driving. He said, "No. You can drive on the highway. Just drive like an old lady. No rapid accelerations or driving over 80 miles an hour."

Obviously, he doesn't know the same old ladies I do. One of my friends celebrated her 100th birthday last summer, and she's still zipping around in her little car. And not just to church on Sundays. The only thing she can't do is drive at night.

Nor is it just old ladies. I see just as many old gentlemen driving like the stereotypical old lady. Puttering along at or below the minimum speed limit on the highway. Slowing down for a turn long before the car reaches the corner. In other words, being cautious because their reflexes aren't what they used to be.

Eventually, for most of us, there comes a time when we shouldn't still be driving. I hope I'm smart enough to turn in my keys when I reach that point. Or at least have someone in my life who loves me enough to take them away from me.

And You Think I Live in A Small Space?

As many of you know, I live in an approximately 450 square-foot apartment in a converted Victorian. There's only so much stuff you can accumulate when you live in a small space.  Occasionally I find myself purging the apartment either to fee up space for something new, or because I have one of those "I have too much stuff" moments. Another purge looms in the near future, but probably not until I have a new job and can make decisions about what resources I need and which ones I can pass on to others.

There are times when I wish I had a larger home. It would be nice to have a separate bedroom so that the computer desk, the TV and the bed weren't all in the same room. And the clothes closet isn't in the dining room. And to have room for books. And a place to display my Depression Glass collection. A home large enough to entertain more than one or two friends at a time. My current dream home? A one-bedroom cottage on a postage stamp yard.

Well, there is the Victorian mansion over on Fairfield Avenue that I've loved for years...

Then there are times when I think I would be perfectly content to continue living in a small home. Easy to keep clean (I can give my apartment a thorough cleaning in less than three hours). Less tendency to let things pile up. Besides, how much space does one person really need?

One of the blogs I read regularly is Tiny House Blog. Today's entry from Matthew Hoffman describes his 160 square-foot living and working space--on wheels. I'm not sure I could manage 160 square feet, but here's one that has a 280 square-foot footprint with about the same amount of living space as I currently have.

Here's one that's 64 square feet designed to provide shelter for folks without homes.

Hmmmm...

And how difficult would it be to build some like these to provide affordable housing?

Food for thought...