Anticipation. Appreciation.

    The wait has ended.  My wheelchair arrived.  My bedroom door has been removed.   The learning curve begins.
     For the first time in years last night, I moved ahead of someone with whom I was traveling.  They did not wait for me.  I showed some consideration by slowing down some.
     Do you know what that means?  I understand how it sounds. Pathetic, I fear.  Yet, do you know what that means?
     Yet to be learned?  Tight spaces.  Grocery stores.  Backing up. Doors. Door thresholds.  Busy times in the skyway--the elevated walkway from my condominium to shops, and business.  Much more that I don't know yet.
     My appreciation for life--for life at the age of 50--has been tested for the last few years.  The test has enabled me to redefine how I live.  I never imagined how I would leave the work world.  The word retirement still does not sit right with me.  I have not discovered what word does describe this phase after my working career.  To be able to pursue my passions--genealogy, research, and writing, I don't know the word or phrase that captures its essence.
     I thought I appreciated friends, family, and a strong faith community.  Yet, the last several years have proven to me that I did not begin to appreciate those treasures in my life as I do now.  I pray to live with that appreciation always, and in all ways.  May each of us, and all of us live bathe ourselves in that appreciation.

A Decibelic, Hyperbolic Fast

     Lent in the Catholic Church is a time of fasting.  Food.  The only form of fasting seems to be food.  With tremendous guilt, I have resisted the admonition to fast.  I felt that to fast for a short period of time with the full knowledge that returning to the old ways defeated the purpose.  My understanding of fasting was to commit to a different long-term behavior that would contribute to living with greater commitment--with greater integrity.
     Yet, I have been offered more palatable forms of fasting to which I may be committed--to which I may will it so.  The U.S. budget debate is one offering of the inspiration to be differently committed.  My objective is to find reasonable, and logical options to participate in the debate.  I do not mean in the form of legislative proposals, or policies.  That is not where my life is centered, such that I could offer any worthy contribution.  As a child, I thought that listening to television news on a religious basis was the solution to be informed, if not directly involved.  When I left the work world, I committed myself to listening to television news as I distracted myself from personal issues beyond my control.
     As the decibel level of debate increases, fasting needs redefinition in my life.  Television news is comfortable white noise.  It does provide a marvelous front row seat to history--to Tahrir Square, most notably.  Condemning all of television news is just as bad as watching news comprised solely of hyperbole, and vitriol.
     Fasting, in my life, will be a commitment to avoid mindless listening to the vitriolic news I identify.  Fasting is a commitment to silence--to intimacy with her.  Fasting is a commitment to music to cleanse my mind of the noise around me--to direct my mind toward more constructive ideas, and perspectives that I may offer.

The Right Questions...Proper Fines...Rehabilitation...

     I confess that I am not a huge sports fan.  I listen for human profiles--human insights--within sports.
     This week, National Basketball Association [NBA] player, Kobe Bryant was fined $100,000 for uttering a racial slur at a referee.  NBA President David Stern imposed the fine to convey that the NBA was a family-friendly form of entertainment that would not endorse such behavior--such attitudes.  Criticism has been made regarding the amount of  the fine in proportion to the player's annual salary.
     I pose a different question regarding the offense, and its corresponding fine.  What impact would the imposition of fines have if they required community service relevant to the offense?  Adjustments to the ratio of the fine to the offender's income should be implicit in sentencing standards, or fines assignments standards.
     Community service seems like an easy way out--a soft sentence to impose.  Yet, it does not need to be, if properly imposed--properly administered.
     In the justice system, sentencing is supposed to be commensurate with the proven crime.  Unanimous agreement does not exist regarding the definition of commensurate.  However, that is no excuse for pursuing a definition.
     What might commensurate community service be?  First, it must be based on positive actions to lessen the occurrence of relevant offenses, in this case, hate speech.  Second, three groups must be identified.
     First, to what group, or organization is the offender accountable.  Is it a sports team?  Is it a professional association?  Is it some other institution?
     Second, who were the people incriminated?  Children?  Colleagues?  Adults?  Others?
    Third, to whom is the offender a role model?  Children? Parents?  Pet owners?  Teachers?  Religious leaders?  Others?
     Fourth, what might some commensurate community service be for an athlete?
     Speaking to fans at games at a pre-determined time within the game, and for a specified time period--once in each city played during the season?  Speaking to recruits during the training season for the sport involved?
     These are just two ideas.  I am not beholden to them.  My intent is to spur thought.
     In the U.S. judicial system, there are federal sentencing guidelines, which have been established to ensure consistency, and definitions of commensurate.  It seems that other organizations might take a cue from the U.S. judicial system.
     Kobe Bryant is not the first, nor the last athlete to engage in hate speech.  His offense can be a teaching moment for everyone--the news spotlight is on, and it is up to us to use it.

Honesty. Humility. Integrity.

     Personal indignation and corporate humility intersected today.
     I believe firmly that experiences I share in my writing are by no means my sole province.  My hope is to illuminate what is common within us, that we might be comfortable to explore what we have been unknown to us, or too threatening to confront.  I use the pronoun we intentionally.  When I begin writing any post to this blog, I do not know what my conclusion will be.  What I do know is that I am called to be reflective.  I endeavor to heed that call with a keen ear--I listen for unresolved issues.
    Today I told the medical vendor I have been working with for three and a half months that he WOULD tell me the delivery time of my wheelchair within the next 24 hours.  I was not saying that I wanted to know when the delivery time would be.  As uncharacteristic as it is of me, I did not equivocate.  I declared my needs.  My threshold for delay had been surpassed.  My patience for a wheelchair was spent.  My heart raced.  Yet, my ankle received her due advocacy today.
     I am a peaceful person.  I live my days in reason, logic, and compassion.   Often, I put on a happy face on less than happy realities.  Some of my happy face is important to a positive outlook--mental health.  Yet, when I overdue happy face, I deserve the moniker given to many in the State of Minnesota, where I live.  Overdone happy face makes me eligible for Minnesota Nice.
    Today's events--today's interactions--were as far from Minnesota Nice as I get.  Within four hours of my first phone call with the medical vendor, I had two messages from him confirming that delivery will take place tomorrow.  As uncustomary as my assertions were, I achieved my goal.
     I learned about corporate humility today.  The medical manufacturer is sending a letter of apology to the vendor for all of the mixups--the omission of a joystick on my wheelchair.  I do not know that I can take any credit for inspiring the corporate letter of apology.  Without having too inflated a sense of myself, I did convey on numerous occasions the seriousness of my need.
    I well may never know the precise contribution I may have had in the communications regarding the acquisition of my wheelchair.  None of us may know the precise contribution we make in our daily communications.  Yet, what we can control is to communicate with integrity.  We must communicate our needs honestly--without exaggeration of content.  We must not affirm our needs with increased decibel levels.    The higher the decibel level of our speech, the more likely it is that our affirmations are false.
     May each of us, and all of us speak with honesty, humility, and integrity.  May we ever be cognizant of the fragility of making amends within our daily lives.
     This is easy to say.  I know that whatever the degree of commitment to these beliefs, I will fall short of sustaining them.

Effective Communication??? How???

     Two examples of communication in two very different contexts lead me to a question.  "What must exist before effective communication can exist?"
     I live in the United States.  Although there is no established national language, which everyone here must speak.  In the immigration debate, some have advocated the establishment of a national language.  The premise of their position is, if everyone spoke the same language--English--in the United States, then we would be one step closer to achieving national unity.
     In Europe, smaller geographical sizes of nations demand that residents in each country be fluent in more than their native language.  Such fluency requires learning different words, different grammatical structures of the different languages being learned.
     It is simplistic to say that there is no conflict between European nations.  Government structures, political systems, different cultural, and faith traditions well may contribute to civil unrest, and discord.  Yet, having to learn another language calls for flexibility, and understanding.  These two well may serve as cornerstones of effective communication.
     The health care debate, and now the budget debate in the U.S. Congress have raised the discord among our elected officials.  I was raised with a very positive attitude--positive role models--toward elected officials.  For the most part, I have not been cynical regarding politics.  Yet, the closer I find the issues cutting to the core of my daily needs--my potential daily needs--I seek a higher level of public discourse than I hear.
     My intent in writing this blog is not to espouse a specific political position.  There are plenty of individuals who fill that need.  All that any individual needs to do is to enter the issue of interest to them in their favorite search engine, along with the word "blog," in order to find an individual, who writes a blog regarding politics.
      How does my discussion of the U.S. congressional debates relate to effective communication?  It is this.  The members of the U.S. Congress all speak English--Democrats, Republicans, and Independents, as well as liberals, and conservatives.  Yet, although the congressional representatives' speech, and writing, are governed by the same words, and the same grammatical structures, they do not communicate effectively.
     Recent miscommunication, and complete lack of communication with individuals involved in securing my wheelchair lead me to question the role of indifference.  How do we lower our voices, open our ears, open our minds?  How do we open ourselves to the notion that despite our different human experiences, and life circumstances, our commonalities are greater than our differences?  How do we transform our fears of difference into a richer, stronger bond of effective communication?

Understanding's--Compassion's---Scope

     The wait for a wheelchair continues.  Work with the vendor of the wheelchair, and the insurance company advocate continues.  The need is unrelenting.  The work seems without end--without a tangible result.
     I am a reasonable, logical, peaceful woman.  I am not comfortable being aggressive in stating my proven needs--my proven need.
     Friends, family, and acquaintances recognize my need, and offer the compassion ever so helpful as I strive toward my goal--a wheelchair.  I never imagined--I resisted--my need for a wheelchair.  Time, and my ankle convince me otherwise.
     I try to draw on my natural tendencies to achieve my goal--a wheelchair.  Logical.  I identified the steps necessary to secure a wheelchair.  An accounting of my physical symptoms, and capacities, a doctor's mobility assessment, an insurance company advocate, a medical vendor acceptable to the insurance company.
     Reasonable.  I listened to the doctor's recommendations.  I spoke with the insurance company advocate.  I visited the medical vendor.  I tried wheelchairs likely to meet my needs.  I maintained constant contact with the advocate, and the medical vendor.
     Aggressiveness expresses itself in cries of desperation from me.  Threats to change vendors.  Yet, aggressiveness, and threats help no one.
      Working to secure a wheelchair in the last three-and-a-half months lead me back to a lifelong question.  First, is it reasonable to expect that another human being may understand basic human needs, and life circumstances that may not be their own?  Second, is it true that no one may understand my/our human needs, because my/our life circumstances are not theirs?
     I am either a foolish optimist, or an optimistic fool.  Maybe both.  I hate to think that none of us may understand the basic human needs of another person, or persons, because our life circumstances are different--are not identical.
    Is it possible to surmount seeming indifference to those basic human needs?  If so, how?
    My default has been that indifference is surmountable.  I begin with logical appeals.  I resort to emotional appeals.  I seek support, and reinforcement to identify, and pursue other courses of action.
    Then, I wonder.  If my need is not enough--if the need/needs of the individuals for whom I am advocating are not enough--then, how can I appeal to the self-interests of the indifferent party?
    I am far beyond angry.   I am exasperated.  I am exhausted.  I am depressed.  Yet, none of these strategies, insights, or feelings has rendered a wheelchair.  Anger, exasperation, exhaustion, depression serve no one.  They are not effective conveyors of my emotions to the people who seem to have the resources to meet my needs.
    I wonder about the appearance of my need.  I am extremely grateful to be able to navigate my condominium.  So, to anyone who observes me navigate just short distances, they would surmise that my need does not rise to their requisite threshold.  Yet, anyone who has known me for any length of time--before I stopped working in 2009--they would know that I do not whine.  I do not pull the pity card--the victim's vengeance--in my daily dealings.
    How do I communicate the need that exceeds my immediate home environment?  How do I communicate that my need in a dignified manner?  Does pity need to be the weapon I must use to get my needs met?  I am no victim--by nature, I am no victim.  Yet, indifference is victimizing me unnecessarily.

Spiritual Divorce???

     Several hours of love, spiritual commitment, and celebration of our lives' joys and sorrows leads me to wonder regarding the future of our worshipping community.  An Archdiocesan action may well result in a change of priests.
     I cannot respond in anger, submissiveness, hostility, or cynicism.  I responded to spiritual vacancy quite early in my adult life by converting to Christianity from Universalism.  I did not abandon my Universalist roots.  They inform my Christian life.  Twenty-nine years after my conversion, I cannot go back.  I cannot live by my intellect, logic, and reason alone.  Faith is essential to my life.  I have been spoiled by the integrity of the Catholic parishes--the Catholic worshiping communities in which I have lived.
    I have experienced the closing of one campus worshiping community due to an Archdiocesan action approximately eleven years ago.  Though painful, I am much stronger--much richer--by the move into a different Catholic faith community.
     Trademarked words that represent the best in their respective product, or service fields lead to the making the names verbalizing imProper nouns--trademark.  We wipe our tears with Kleenex, clean our ears with Q-Tips, we google the world wide web for information, etc.
     A spiritual profile of myself is not simple.  It complexity is essential to understand, not elusive, but, essential.  Most identifiable to most are the words Catholic in ritual, Christian in my living.  Not perfect, by any stretch.  Yet, isn't that what it means to be Christian.  It is an imperfect striving to be perfect?  Were our strivings perfect, then what would the need be for perfection? After all, wouldn't perfection be an achievement, and not a goal?
    Catholic and Christian are words that describe me as an adult seeker of ritual, and life.
    More elusive to many are my childhood cornerstones--Universalist, and Unitarian.  I understand them more as one fellowship today.  As a child, there seemed to be a more peaceful, maybe less militant understanding of what Unitarian meant.
   Only as an adult have I come to understand that each fellowship shapes, or expresses what it means to be Universalist, or Unitarian.  I was raised in the First Universalist Church in Minnesota during the 1960s.  Although the denomination was always known as the Universalist-Unitarian Fellowship, the individual churches were known as either Universalist, or Unitarian.  I don't remember knowing any Unitarians.  I understood "Unitarians" to be more militant in the expression of their commitments.  I have no recollection of what led me to that sense.  It may be the stark contrast between Unitarian versus the Trinitarian foundation upon which Christianity is built.  Universalism, I was raised to believe, was built upon the belief that there is good to be found in all world religions.  My child sense of the Universalist church that I was raised in was composed of individuals who were quite active in their support for the United Nations, and the World Federalists.
    Only as an adult have I begun to understood how the current affairs in the world shape how each Universalist, or Unitarian Church expresses its commitment to the belief in the pursuit of thoughtful, logical, reasonable deliberations.  As a Universalist, I was raised to believe that there is good to be found in all world religions.
    Only as a Catholic have I come to appreciate the vast difference between religion and faith.
Much moreso than in Christian denominations.  The gradations among Catholic parishes--Catholic communities--are understood by many Catholics to vary much more dramatic than they are.  Yet, the gradations are not as grandiose as they may seem to some.  The structure of the Catholic celebration focuses around the altar--the Table of Christ.  A Catholic could walk into any Catholic church, and be reasonably certain that they would hear one reading from the Old Testament, a second reading from the New Testament, a psalm, and a reading from one of the Gospels--Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John.  Acts might be read during the Easter season.   Three liturgical cycles of biblical readings, seasons of the liturgical year including Advent, Christmas, Ordinary Time, Lent, the Triduum, and Easter are constant across all Catholic parishes.
    In no way do I mean to dismiss the vast differences between the Catholic Church pre-Vatican II, and Post-Vatican II.  Though born in 1960, I am a child of the Post-Vatican II Catholic Church.  My sense from Pre-Vatican II Catholics is that to be Catholic implied much more of a unified expression of beliefs and forms of expression, than is the case today.
    Individuals I knew, who were raised as pre-Vatican II Catholics, led me to believe that there was one way to be Catholic.  I do not mean to blame them, or denigrate their message to me.  They were expressing their experience to me.  When I was introduced to post-Vatican II Catholics, I was blown away--perplexed.  Each individual had tremendous integrity, and yet, they were not expressing their Catholicism identically--not by a long shot.
     I do not think that the changes that are forthcoming in my Catholic faith community will be as drastic as the  Universalist versus Catholic, or the pre- versus post-Vatican II Catholics I experienced during the last thirty years.  Yet, I do believe the change will be radical.  I pray it may inform my faith, and the faith of my community, rather than weaken its fabric.