I Swing Both Ways :P

Tolerance- What Does It Really Mean?


In reading a few of my favorite blogs this week, the talk has turned to a recent murder of an innocent doctor shot down in front of his wife, his family and his church. His crime? He worked at an abortion clinic. One blog in particular has been particularly harsh on Christians, specifically Christian conservatives. My thoughts on this are as follows:


Not all conservatives are Christians. Not all Christians are conservatives. Not all Christians are anti-abortion. Not all Christians, conservatives, or anti-abortionists are murderers. Not all Muslims are terrorists. Yet people of both religions have done terrible things in the name of their faith. And hey- what about the people who proclaim no faith at all, yet drive by and shoot someone over a gang-related issue? Where do they fall in this line of thinking?

Bottom line: taking the life of another human being is murder, and our society says that murder is a crime. Upon this, we all agree. Murder- it’s not a “conservative” issue, and it’s not a “Christian issue” either, because I am pretty sure our jails are not filled with only Christian conservatives.


It’s tragic that the doctor was shot to death in front of his wife and church, for no reason other than some wacked-out person, claiming to represent a certain segment of our society, thought he should be punished for practicing his occupation. If we define tolerance as an attitude which is respectful of practices or group memberships that may be disapproved of by other groups, then this is in my opinion, intolerance at it's purest form.


However, pointing fingers and condemning an entire group of people for the terrible things one person does- even if that person claims to represent an entire group of people-- is unfair, and to use the “I” word- intolerant. Tolerance swings both ways- condemn the act, condemn the person, but to condemn a whole group in society is irresponsible, inflammatory and undermines the whole process of tolerance. Taking the life of another human being is wrong, and unacceptable, and it must stop. On that we can agree. It is my opinion that tolerance, true tolerance- begins at the very point upon where we can agree.

Wicked!

I went to see Wicked! last night- WOW! It was AMAZING!

Inauguration Socks

When I knit, it seems to me as if my yarn holds my thoughts and feelings for me, so that the next time I pick up that particular piece of knitting, I remember what was going on around me, or what I was thinking as I was knitting. So today while watching the Inauguration, I worked on my socks. My red socks.

A dear friend (MaryAnn) once told me that whenever she felt down, or sad, or lonely or afraid, she would put on a nice pair of zesty red socks, and they would always make her feel better. She said that they brought her comfort somehow. She has since lost her battle with ovarian cancer, but in memory of MaryAnn I have a pair of hand-knit red socks, and frankly, they are getting a lot of use these days. Between ScatDaddy's unemployment, my mom's health issues and the economy, it seems like I need all the comfort I can get most days. Too bad the weather has been so darn warm the past few weeks. Yikes! So, I have cast on another pair of red socks, in a wee bit lighter weight yarn. And I worked on them today, while watching our new president speak of hope, and hard work, and a better future for our children. So, the next time I work on them, I can think about hope, and hard work, and a better future for our children.

I have stopped watching the news before bed. It makes me too anxious. I know the media feels it's important to keep us "in the know" about our tanked economy, but it sorta feels like when you have a run in your pantyhose, or a tear in your shirt and there isn't a way for you to fix it right away. Kind people point out that you have a run in your pantyhose, or there is a tear in your shirt, but really, you can't do anything about it at that instance.

Don't get me wrong- I am thankful that someone takes the time to tell me that I have toilet tissue stuck to my shoe- I think we have all had an experience of finding food in our teeth, or discovering that our hair was WAY funky after an important encounter. But when there is a run in your pantyhose, there really isn't much you can do about it, until you get home to change them, or can find a place to take them off. Same with a tear in your pants or shirt- put a jacket over it, or something, but until you can fix the problem, you are stuck with "managing it" or "damage control". The economy is like that right now. Our economy has tanked. Apparently, it has been tanking since December of last year. And there isn't really a darn thing I can personally do about it. The best I can do is to "manage it", or "damage control", but in real life, what does that look like?

Just Show Up For Life

Sometimes, that's all you can do.

When I first got clean and sober, my sponsor in AA told me the secret to staying clean and sober. She said, "Go to 90 meetings in 90 days, and don't drink or use between meetings." That sounded simple enough, and I did it. I was surprised at how much that whole "don't drink or use between meetings" idea really helped. For some reason, having a goal (to not drink or use between meetings) really made it all bearable.

After I had 90 days under my belt she then told me the next secret: "Just show up for life." That's all I had to do. Amazingly enough, it actually worked. I showed up at the meetings, showed up at rehab, showed up at group therapy, showed up for work, showed up at church, showed up for lunch dates with friends, showed up at family functions, and surprisingly enough, most of the chaos in my life really settled down. The longer I stayed clean and sober, the more "showing up for life" translated into: taking care of business, being present, taking care of the little things when they appear instead of waiting for them to "go away" (they never do, in fact they grow exponentially while you are not dealing with them).

I am a member of the "sandwich generation". I have children at home, and take care of my aging parents. Today I took my kids and my parents to Costco. While my dad was off doing the shopping for his household, I was took my mom and my girls to the book section, located in the way back of the store. Suddenly, my mom needed to use the restroom- and fast. When my girls were younger, I would dash through the store with a toddler stashed under my arm. (O.J. Simpson had NOTHIN’ on me.) Most people would smile knowingly, and step aside to let us pass. Many times, a kind person allowed us to move to the front of the line to prevent a toddler mishap.

It's different with an elderly parent. It not like I can tuck her under my arm, or hoist her into the shopping cart and sprint to the front of the store. My mom needs to use the shopping cart for support. She has trouble starting and stopping walking, and trouble regulating her speed. Meaning, that the longer she walks, the faster she goes. This means that we are negotiating our way (as fast as possible), with a large shopping cart through a crowded Costco store. I have my 9 and 12 year-old girls bobbing along beside me, my mom at the back of the cart, and I am in the front, trying to prevent my mom from mowing down others, or scraping the back layer of skin from their ankles with the cart. To most people, we look like rude shoppers- shoving through, shoving ahead, darting around those stopped to take a sample. In their defense, they would have no way of knowing that a bathroom accident is imminent and it won’t be pretty. My mom does have some dignity left, so it wasn’t as if I could shout, “Make way! Bathroom Issues! Make way!” And although I love her dearly, my mom isn't as cute as a toddler. Cute goes a long way when you are in a rush....

We made it in time. Just in time. It was close. But we made it. It was nerve wracking. My mom was embarrassed. I was sad. And then it was time to go back to look at books. Sometimes, there isn’t anything else to do, but show up for life. Be in the moment, and take care of business. And sigh a lot. Sigh.