Ecclesiastes, reading, demons, and ambiguity

Something strange has been happening to me lately. I’ve been reading, even as I neglect other “work” I “should” be doing. I started with a really short little book, (83 pages): In Celebration of Wisdom: Life and Meaning in Job, Proverbs and Ecclesiastes” (2009), edited by Steven Schweitzer. I guess I chose it because it seems work-related. (Think “Mrs. Job”). But something on p. 71, in reference to Ecclesiastes 7:1-18, had the effect of setting me free (at least temporarily):

“Humans are capable of some wisdom, but perfection is beyond their reach. ‘Do not be too righteous’: Qoheleth uses irony to state that excess—even in the area of wisdom—is not a good thing, because it could become an obsession. Given this state of things, the best people can do is to try to acquire the wisdom available and enjoy life while it lasts, especially ‘in the day of prosperity.’ Writing with a subtlety and nuance that encourages us to live our lives fully, facing both good and ill, Qoheleth helps us find a paradoxically off-balance balance in life.”

Maybe it keyed into thoughts around Lou’s recent death, the shortness of life’s journey, and the limitations on what we can do with it. Whatever the process, I found myself perfectly comfortable sitting in the sunshine on my deck reading: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford (Paperback - Oct 6, 2009). Fiction, its theme was based on the internment of Japanese citizens during WWII. I loved gobbling up the story, almost as I used to devour reading when I was a child. I also found my resident empathy creating pain over the violence done to these people, even as I admired their strength in maintaining their stalwart devotion to this country. I thought too of my frequent commentary these days that we won’t really understand what’s going on today until we look back in ten or twenty years. (And I do intend to be here to do just that.)

Then today I “yielded” again and finished reading General Tony Zinni and Tony Koltz, Leading the Charge: Leadership Lessons from the Battlefield to the Boardroom. I took away from that a lot of things, but in general the awareness that one cannot afford to be stuck in the ways of the past, or even the present, because the old rules don’t apply now, and most certainly won’t apply in the future. The best we can do (my words, not Zinni’s) is to tolerate the ambiguity and use it to feed our creativity-based activities.

There’s one last piece. The thoughts inspired by this morning’s sermon at Shepherd of the Hill Presbyterian Church about the nature of our personal demons. I think I’ve identified a couple of mine. (1) allowing my empathy to become obsession; (2) that old “thing” that I can’t just sit and read until my “work” is done. And, of course, it is never done.

How should I title this blog? “True confessions?” Oh, but consider the ambiguity of the future. I might not agree with myself at all tomorrow.

Book Signing September 10, 2009

On the happy side, I'm looking forward to a fun night and book signing at Lillian's in Excelsior, Minnesota. I'd like to attach the neat poster they created, but I can't figure out how to do it. So, here's the verbal description.

The special night is September 10, 2009, from 6:00 – 8:00 p.m. My book-signing will focus on Mrs. Job, but I’ll have my forgiveness books there too.

If you haven’t been there, you’ll love the handbags, scarves, and accessories at fabulous prices. I think it’s all a great way to yield to that Fall desire for something new. (And a great way for me to make people aware of my books.)

The invitation asks for an RSVP by September 8. My guess is that it would be best to leave the message at Lillian’s number: 952-474-3191.

I’m excited about this. I hope you will be too.

p.s. Please note it's Lillian's of Excelsior.

Remembering Lou Affinito one final time

Lou Affinito died at 12:45 Sunday morning, August 23d, after a period of time at Connecticut Hospice. He ended his sojourn here on earth on the anniversary of his mother's death many years before. It was the end of a long battle that began around April 2008 when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. His wife, his children, and his family suffered with him through the long battle which was reportedly horrifyingly heart-rending toward the end. His wake was held in Hamden Connecticut on Monday the 24th, with hundreds of friends, families, fellow church members, and co-workers creating a constant four-hour stream of care and grief. His memorial Mass was celebrated at Ascension Church in Hamden on Tuesday, August 25th, with interment in West Haven in a mausoleum near his parents and his brother in law. Even his dear friend Frank Faggio rests there.

I knew then that Ted Kennedy would soon be following Lou in death. Kennedy had been diagnosed at about the same time as Lou with the same kind of tumor. And today I watched the Senator's funeral with rapt attention, feeling a strange kind of identification with those involved. One cannot help but notice that the tumor was no respecter of position. And I couldn't help but be aware that Mrs. Kennedy would confess, along with Lou's wife, that she is exhausted and bereft. The suffering has ended for Lou and for the Senator. The people left behind deserve and have my deepest sympathy.

Sabbath

I’ve had it with empathy, sympathy, productivity, checking e-mail, responding to appeals, mistakes made with loving intentions, supportive phone calls, concern for the nations’ healthcare. What I really wanted today was just to lie on my couch and stare into space. But I went one better. I lay on my couch and read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society. What a smart thing to do! It goes to my daughter next if she hasn’t already read it. I guess that’s what old-fashioned Sabbaths were all about.

Well, I did keep a mammogram appointment, and maybe tomorrow I’ll feel like doing stuff again. And wouldn’t it be lovely if someone, somewhere, spent an afternoon on the couch reading Mrs. Job?

Recalling Lou Affinito

Up front I need to admit that I have not been Lou Affinito’s wife since 1976, and that I thoroughly like his current wife who had nothing to do with our splitting. But we had twenty years and two children together, and as Lou suffers his last days, the victim of an invasive brain tumor, I can’t help traveling back to our time together. Feeling the need to do something, I’m offering this tribute of sorts. I’ve carefully labeled it “Recalling Lou Affinito,” to make it clear that he is still fighting the battle of life.

It was 1953 at the University of Vermont. Genny, my colleague and apartment mate, and I had just attended a tea in honor of the artist daughter of the Psychology Department chair. At least, I think that’s what we had been doing. I am pretty sure I was wearing a black suit and a hat with a veil – and probably gloves. Genny introduced me to Lou who gave us a ride home from the grocery store. I was in Burlington, Vermont, but I knew at once that Lou was an “Italian” from New Haven – and I was a goner right from the beginning.

No, I’m not going to give the whole history – just some snippets. Like his 1949 Plymouth sedan. (OK, I may be wrong. Maybe it was a Dodge. Sadly I can’t verify it now with Lou.) But I do know it was black. Lou preferred black cars. And the heat in this one didn’t work, so, when we rode to and fro on school vacations from Burlington to Connecticut in the freezing cold, we’d open the windows wide and sing “In the Good Old Summertime.” That was the car that transported our several month’s supply of meat from his father’s store – and canned tomatoes, of course, and tomato paste and Ziti. I had never had so much fun with anyone as I did with Lou in our lighthearted dating days.

In 1955 my New Haven greenback shower paid the balance on our new 1955 Ford – actually blue with a white top, not black. One more point about cars. Lou had an ear and an eye for them. I’d drive in the driveway, go up the stairs to the kitchen, and find Lou waiting to tell me he could hear that we needed new shock absorbers. Or when he saw my new Chevy Monza, he knew immediately that it had the wrong left front tire – a fact denied by several “authorities” until I got to the owner of Partyka Chevrolet who immediately ordered that the “correct” tire be installed. OK, So much for cars.

More? There’s Lou, happy as a clam during the brief period when he enjoyed the freedom his pilot’s license gave him to fly a small plane. Lou coming home to play in the kiddie pool in the back yard with Doug and Lisa. Lou and our traditional visit to the drive-in movie on July 3d, complete with Dunkin’ Donuts. Lou basking in the family cookout in our back yard, complete with Bacci Ball for the men. (Losers couldn’t have a beer afterwards.) Lou thoroughly enjoying Frank Faggio’s Italian pastry at Lucibello’s. Lou’s devotion to his friends, and grief at their loss – Nicky Conte, Frank Faggio, cousin Al Altieri…

The nice thing about Word Documents is that I’ll be able to add more later, as it comes to me, but I can’t let this try go by without giving credit to his sayings;

• Never force anything mechanical (saved me lots of damage)
• The hard way is the easy way (comes to mind when I try to carry too many grocery bags at once.)
• Turn a defeat into a victory. (I’ve thought of using this as a book title.)

Thanks for letting me share these thoughts with you.

Remembering "Letters from Jenny."

Back in my early teaching days I came across a book called "Letters from Jenny." As I recall, it was a collection of letters written by an aging woman to her son's friend. What's that got to do with anything? Well, some time ago I started a document called, "Mona's aging diary." I thought it would be interesting for my survivors to observe the changes as they occur. Of course, I expected it to be boring, since I plan to hang around for another twenty-five years at least. (My children are kind enough not to reveal their horror when I say that.) And what does that have to do with this blog? Well, point number one, I realized I don't need that document, 'cause this blog serves the purpose I intended for my "aging diary."

And these days, I'm quite wrapped up in reviewing my life. So many things have provoked that. One is the fact that my former husband is suffering from a terminal brain tumor. I have no direct contact with him about that, which proves to be frustrating, but I do get the news from my son and daughter and friends in New Haven. Do I need to say more? The purpose of life is farther toward the forefront of my thoughts than usual. To summarize, it becomes even more real that our journey here is limited, as is the time for us to be making our [hopefully helpful] mark on the world. The funny thing is, given those thoughts, I find myself doing things like getting rid of unnecessary paper, and even books, in my study. It seems like I'm doing anything to avoid getting down to writing. I think maybe I'm in a waiting mode.

There's another reason I'm thinking these thoughts. Walter Cronkite. All the reviews of his life bring back memories of so many major events that have occurred during mine. I won't bore you with all the images and emotions that come to mind. Just this -- with every one of those crises I lost sleep over the direction we could or could not be taking as a nation and as a people, and guess what -- we (including me) are still here. So many of those things I've lived through make sense in the backwards view. Now I try to hang on to the patience to realize that wherever we're going (with my little bit of help, I hope) will make sense twenty years from now when I look back.

Those thoughts of patient confidence that there is a purpose evolving, along with acupuncture, keep me sleeping pretty soundly. And verging on getting back to writing "Riding in the Back Seat."

If only more people would discover Mrs. Job. Those who do read her, are almost lavish in their praise. (Try "Mrs. Job." You might like her.) There, I even got in my marketing licks.

What a wonderful cruise to the Baltics! I've been back since July 2, and it's taken me this long to get back in the groove. Oh, I've done what I really had to do, like reminding people of our up-coming JustFaith+ meeting at church on July 14, but for the rest, what I have really wanted to do was win the lottery so I could then just hang out and read. The lottery hasn't materialized, though, and I am beginning to feel the energy again. I have Dr. Dimitri Didaskalou to thank for that. He is the acupuncturist on the Eurodam (Holland America). I've been afraid to say it out loud, fearing some kind of jinxing phenomenon, but today I'm feeling confident enough to come out with it. Yes, on shipboard it cost top dollar, but I do believe my three acupuncture sessions have freed me of my insomnia. And if for some reason it doesn't hold, I am confident I can go to a local acupuncturist and get a booster pin.

I need energy, 'cause I've got to keep following up on the press releases about Mrs. Job. I really want people to know about her. I continue to get really nice compliments from people who have read her, and I know of book clubs and bible study groups who will be exploring her in the Fall. But nothing will happen if I don't get on the marketing stick.

I'm pleased to have had a couple of requests to do interviews on "When to Forgive." Of course I don't see clearly, but as far as I'm concerned, it is one of the best books on forgiveness, incorporating so much of what people have said and researched. I believe, also, that my book is the only one that has a chapter on "The Case Against Forgiving." I keep hoping...

As for the cruise. There are some highlights. First, I think I bored Doug to the point of exasperation in Copenhagen and Stockholm with "I have a picture of that." The fact is, much is still the same as it was in 1955 when I made the trip to Sweden and Denmark with my folks the summer before I got married. It's not really surprising that buildings survive, like the stock exchange in Copenhagen. What did surprise and please me was the fact that the Nordiska Companiet is still one of the largest (or the largest) department stores in Sweden. That's where I bought my stainless steel flatware in 1955. Unlike Dayton's in Minnesota, or G. Fox & Company in Hartford, Connecticut, that store has not disappeared into another name. It's hard to explain, but it gave me that accordion feeling -- so far away and yet so near.

We saw some stunning palaces. I was particularly interested in the enthusiasm with which the Russians showed off those remnants of the Czars. I also boringly repeated my travel theme -- "You've seen one palace; you've seen them all." It strikes me that, with all the beautiful things in the palaces, its occupants must not even have known what they really had. I can't imagine how, even if they spent a day going from room to room, they could finger or eye every one of the beautiful things on display. By contrast, I was warmed and thrilled by the visit to Sibelius's home in Finland. It was a very nice wood structure on a lovely lake. What I loved about it was that he and his wife lived there, raised a family, supported each other, even as he wrote his beautiful music. I don't know any other way to say it, except it felt so "real." I had the same feeling when we visited the home of the Finnish artist Hekka Halonen. (Wikipedia says his name is "Pekka.") I confess I had never heard of him, but again I had that feeling of real people expressing their talent in a beautiful lake atmosphere.

The visit to Estonia was one we had eagerly anticipated, having seen the DVD on the Estonian people's winning their freedom from the Soviets without violence, but through song. It was impossible not to be moved by the visit to the music shell where some 5000 people had dared defiantly to sing their national music at the once-every-five years festival.

Of course, the cruise in general was sheer luxury -- the kind of thing that makes me aware of how very fortunate I am, and how I wish life would improve for all the suffering people in the world. And I didn't even spend all of my $20 gambling money set aside for the cruise. With Doug teaching me how to play poker (on the machine), and the ups and downs of fortune, I had fun winning up to $13.50, ultimately losing it after several days of gambling fun, spending only $5.00 of the $20.00.

I want to do it again. Somehow I've got to see Italy. After all, the Italian heritage has enriched my own Swedish heritage, and made my children 50% Italian.

Thanks for listening/reading. I wish for all of us continued energy to do what we can to make the world a better place.

Oh, and I'd love to see some comments.