WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GROW UP

I just decided what I want to be when I grow up. Well, not just now, but sort of early this morning as I woke up. Yesterday a friend of mine told me the reaction of the person to whom she had given a copy of Mrs. Job. Reportedly she loved it, and wondered would I be willing to do a retreat at her [Lutheran] church. There was no real offer, just the suggestion that I should think about it. It took a good night’s sleep for me to realize that this is exactly what I love to do. Forgiveness, Justice, Job and his wife. They are so intimately connected, and how they tie in to my interest in gender psychology and restorative practices! So now my thoughts are off and running. What a great two-day retreat we could have, or even a one-day workshop. It would have to be tailored, both in title and content, to the hosting group. If it were a group of Lutheran women, for example, it could be "Mrs. Job, forgiveness, and justice for the Godly woman." For others it might be "Forgiveness, Justice, Restorative Practices, and the influence of Mrs. Job." Who knows? It would take a lot of thought to name it, and more thought to arrange a fruitful presentation that would frame the issues and their solutions in general as well as personal gain for participants. But my cupboard is filled with so many great ingredients for the recipe. It would be fun. First job – construct a blurb that would describe it to a general audience.

OK. That’s it. Help me with your thoughts. In the meantime, I have spent some time (not enough) on “Riding in the Back Seat” and reading on my deck in halter and shorts. Imagine! It’s that warm here today.

I GET DISCOURAGED – AND THEN I’M NOT

I guess it’s all part of the process of deciding what I want to be when I grow up – or maybe just growing up. Anyway, I get discouraged when I sell only two books at the Bloomington Theatre and Art Center Writers Book Festival. I get discouraged when I discover I don’t have the energy I once had to contribute my efforts to the causes I care about. I get discouraged at the danger I put other people in when I attempt to drive in strange places in the dark. I even get discouraged when I find I want to do nothing but read my Kindle. (Currently it’s “90 Minutes in Heaven.”)

Then I watch the snow melt with much more enthusiasm than one might muster to watch the paint dry. Every morning I look out to see whether the really dirty stuff is gone. (not yet). My damaged deck chairs are now unencumbered by accumulated snow, and I can send them off for repair, dreaming of sitting in the warm summer sun. I can sit and read for an hour or more at a time without feeling guilty that I’m not being productive. I can catch up on phone calls to many of the people I care about.

Then there’s the four session series we’ll be starting tomorrow at the Presbyterian Church based on the DVD “The Power of Forgiveness.” It was a success when our JustFaith+ group sponsored it recently at Mount Calvary. And the booklet I’ve been preparing for my Connecticut College group is just about done, with the help of Diane Eidsmo, a very talented lady at Mount Calvary. On the 18^th I’ll be helping to facilitate a group discussion on the book “Riding the Bus With my Sister,” in a project sponsored in part by the Chaska Community Engagement Group. On March 25^th I’ll be doing a small part, helping to set up – being in attendance for conversation – at Mount Calvary’s new project which we’re calling “New Friend’s Community Meal,” with a goal of serving a meal for the community at the end of each month. My part is small, but I guess every little bit helps.

Oh yes! Tonight we Spring our clocks forward, giving us an extra hour of light at the end of the day – additional comfortable driving time for me.

Then there's the "Mona's book" business friends connection I've set up on Facebook. What I’m most excited about right now, though, is that I’ve finally begun “Riding in the Back Seat.” My head swims with ideas for the little vignettes I’ll be including. Just for the fun of it, I’ve decided to expose you to the beginning as it stands now. It will be edited, of course, but here’s the first section for your enjoyment – or whatever.

Of course, feedback will be greatly appreciated.

RIDING IN THE BACK SEAT

I’m riding in the back seat, but no one is driving the car. How is it there has been no fatal impact? Other vehicles scream by; fences bend as they barely avoid being hit; trees blow aside in panic; people fly about like cartoon characters. I’m glued to the right rear seat. No matter how hard I struggle I can’t make my arm reach far enough to push down on the brake in the front. Nor can I move my body into the front seat to take over the steering wheel and apply the brake. In fact, I can’t move at all. I save myself by waking up.

As bad as it is losing control of the car, it’s even worse on other occasions when I see it from outside bursting into bright red flames. I save myself by waking up.

I did wake up. Those dreams are emotion-free memories now, as are those of octagonal rooms filled with ancient debris. Over time I cleaned them out and created a bright, white, sun-lit, fragrantly airy space for myself. Even the dreams of a royal octagonal table standing atop long legs under which is rushing a brown, fetid stream are gone. The water was purified. The dream was no longer needed.

Most of us, I believe, have ridden in the back seat of a driverless car, eventually recovering to take over the direction of our own lives. Some of us have endured the passionate, fiery explosion of the vehicle that carries us through life. Many of us, I think, have discovered the bright new parts of ourselves after cleaning out the old, untended debris in our hidden rooms, or removed the personal pollution that contaminates our life energy.

Most of what I plan to say, however, is much less dreamlike. Besides being a psychologist who dreams, I am in many ways a walking history book. Some of you may find some glimmers of your own history in the snippets of stories I tell here. I know I’m writing this for my own family. I hope it will resonate with your memories and challenges.

FRONT SEAT DRIVING; BACK SEAT RIDING

I ride in the back seat as often as I can these days. I no longer enjoy driving. But I was excited about getting my driver’s license when I turned 16. By that time my father was out of the Ford (more about that later) and into a DeSoto, one of the first to have fluid drive. That was really nice for me – or maybe not so nice at all – because I never did learn to drive a “stick.” All I had to do was lift my foot off the accelerator and it would shift.

I liked the freedom and independence of driving, just like a real grown-up. Being a child always carried with it the sting of not being in charge of my own life, so my solo drive down the boulevard in Bristol, Connecticut, heading home to Forestville with my brand new license, confirmed my competent adult status.

It wasn’t long, though, before I went off to college, where we weren’t allowed cars (Yes! That’s really true), and then to graduate school in Boston, and who in her right mind would even want to drive in Boston? I walked. Occasionally I rode with Frances, an amazing driver who had controlled vehicles on the farm from the time she was 13. She understood that the rule in Boston driving is, “If you want to take that turn, take it. Somehow everyone else will get out of the way.”

In Johnson, Vermont, I walked to class, to the drugstore, to church, to bowling, and just for fun. That’s all there was to do there, except for an occasional trip into Burlington with Kate. I walked in Burlington, too, when I moved over to the University of Vermont.

END OF SAMPLE