The weight of the world. Goals. Cures.
Taking on the weight of the world is tempting. Being a civic-minded member of society. Being a world citizen. Being a productive employee. Being someone with a good work ethic. Each is a laudable pursuit.
Yet...each of these pursuits in excess dilutes the pursuits--negates the end goal.
This morning, this mermaid went for her morning swim. An hour immersed in clear water. Although I swim in one of four lap lanes, I do not count the laps I swim in numbers' measure. I do not set out to do a prescribed number of specific types of strokes.
I listen. I listen to my body. At a higher pitch than my ears can hear, lighter than my skin can feel, sweeter than any candy, and lighter--more ethereal--than any shadow to see. I listen to my body. I feel her need. Deeper than the deepest pool of water. I feel her need welling within me.
As I put flippers on my feet, to strengthen them further, my feeling of exertion changed. I did not feel the exertion I felt in my shoulders, as I had raised my arms straight up in the air from beneath the water.
I seek no cures. I do my best--not perfect, by any stretch--to live the life I am given each day. I set SMART goals, as they were dubbed in the corporate world in which I worked for more than 24 years.
I swim four mornings a week, one hour each morning. I volunteer doing research at a museum six hours a week, three hours on two afternoons. I work on my blog writing. I work the daily New York Times crossword puzzle.. I do it in pen. I don't finish it often. But...I do it. I enjoy it. I attend to simple household tasks. I use my time--my life's time--constructively. Not for grandiose purposes. But, for purposes that I feel I can give effective voice to bear.
My goals are SMART. Specific. Measurable. Actionable. Realistic. Time-specific.
When I was introduced to the concept of SMART goals, they seemed artificial--contrived. The SMART goals were not for me. They were to satisfy someone else's goals. I was not very effective in setting and achieving SMART goals.
My corporate work life ended--abruptly. Two years after that ending, I have set my SMART goals. Now I am living those goals--My SMART goals. With time, my goals may change. I will listen to the world around me. Yet, I will not allow my keen hearing be deafened by the white noise--the screaming voices ever present in our world
When I am in the water, I float. When I am in the water, I do not feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. Being graced with that privilege is not lost on me.
Showing posts with label realist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label realist. Show all posts
Friday, September 30, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
ADLs: Activities of Daily Living
The term activities of daily living, or ADLs, refers to the basic tasks of everday life, such as eating, bathing, dressing, toileting, and transferring. When people are unable to perform these activities, they need help in order to cope, either from human beings, or mechanical devices.
Measuring the Activities of Daily Living: A Comparison Across National Surveys
Joshua M. Wiener, and Raymond J. Hanley, The Brookings Institution; Robert Clark, and Joan F. Van Nostrand, U.S. Department of Education
I was paralyzed. EAT. FEED YOURSELF WITH FOOD THAT HAD BEEN PREPARED FOR YOU. VOLUNTARY BLADDER AND BOWEL CONTROL OR ABILITY TO MAINTAIN A REASONABLE LEVEL OF PERSONAL HYGIENE. BATHE (TUB, SHOWER, OR SPONGE.) TRANSFER FROM BED TO CHAIR.
I was paralyzed. These words screamed out--pierced my eardrums. Though still able to perform these tasks with some adaptive devices, the day I could not perform any of these skills came into focus. Though not imminent, a potent image nonetheless.
Breathe in....breathe out...breathe in....breathe out...
Stark are the activities of daily living on paper before my eyes--they were then, they remain so. Before assessing these activities, my pierced ears must be muffled. My jangled nerves quieted. My tight stomach calm.
Eat. Feed yourself with food that had been prepared for you. Voluntary bladder and bowel control or ability to maintain a reasonable level of personal hygiene. Bathe (tub, shower, or sponge.) Transfer from bed to chair.
A scale. Rate myself. Simple. Or so it seemed. Straightforward. Or so it seemed.
1. I can perform this activity regularly. 2. I can perform this activity with the use of equipment or adaptive device. 3. I cannot perform this activity.
The activities of daily living are the province of a child to learn. I am an adult. Diminishment is the province of senior citizens to accept. It is a realistic expectation that senior citizens should need equipment or adaptive devices. It is within reason to watch someone else confront diminishment. Senior citizens learn that they "cannot perform this activity." Or so it seems. Yet, I am not a senior citizen. I am 51.
Were these my only choices? Could I take an essay test? A multiple choice test of a life lived proving false the truths set before me to live. Yet, those were my choices.
Measuring the Activities of Daily Living: A Comparison Across National Surveys
Joshua M. Wiener, and Raymond J. Hanley, The Brookings Institution; Robert Clark, and Joan F. Van Nostrand, U.S. Department of Education
I was paralyzed. EAT. FEED YOURSELF WITH FOOD THAT HAD BEEN PREPARED FOR YOU. VOLUNTARY BLADDER AND BOWEL CONTROL OR ABILITY TO MAINTAIN A REASONABLE LEVEL OF PERSONAL HYGIENE. BATHE (TUB, SHOWER, OR SPONGE.) TRANSFER FROM BED TO CHAIR.
I was paralyzed. These words screamed out--pierced my eardrums. Though still able to perform these tasks with some adaptive devices, the day I could not perform any of these skills came into focus. Though not imminent, a potent image nonetheless.
Breathe in....breathe out...breathe in....breathe out...
Stark are the activities of daily living on paper before my eyes--they were then, they remain so. Before assessing these activities, my pierced ears must be muffled. My jangled nerves quieted. My tight stomach calm.
Eat. Feed yourself with food that had been prepared for you. Voluntary bladder and bowel control or ability to maintain a reasonable level of personal hygiene. Bathe (tub, shower, or sponge.) Transfer from bed to chair.
A scale. Rate myself. Simple. Or so it seemed. Straightforward. Or so it seemed.
1. I can perform this activity regularly. 2. I can perform this activity with the use of equipment or adaptive device. 3. I cannot perform this activity.
The activities of daily living are the province of a child to learn. I am an adult. Diminishment is the province of senior citizens to accept. It is a realistic expectation that senior citizens should need equipment or adaptive devices. It is within reason to watch someone else confront diminishment. Senior citizens learn that they "cannot perform this activity." Or so it seems. Yet, I am not a senior citizen. I am 51.
Were these my only choices? Could I take an essay test? A multiple choice test of a life lived proving false the truths set before me to live. Yet, those were my choices.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
A Study in Words
Many words come to mind as the debt ceiling debate. Disgust. Astonishment. Frustration. These are but a few of the words regarding how the debate is being conducted that come to my mind.
I plead guilty to any accusation that I am obsessed with how words are used--how words are used in describing individuals, and interactions, most notably. Words define the structure of a sentence--the foundation of a conversation. The most important words are the subtle words--the words that are deemed acceptable.
I have heard descriptions of this weekend's congressional proceedings. I include both the House and the Senate in the term, "congress." Sometimes, only the House is intended by speaking of "congressional."
News reports have described actions in Congress this weekend as, "political theater." Others have spoken with little fanfare of the "players" in the "game."
I cannot comprehend the economic figures being discussed. I know what my political--governmental--spending priorities are, yet, my focus is elsewhere. Some question what will happen if our nation's debt ceiling is not lifted. As important as the answer to that question is, I am much more concerned about the words by which the debate is framed.
Dumbfounded. Whose life involves no compromise? Whose life is ideal? Do any of us choose the life circumstances we have been given to live? Yes, we do have control--some control--over the quality of our lives. But, that is because we have chosen how we will live the circumstances we have been given to live.
I don't like some of the compromises that my life circumstances have called me to make. Yet, the alternative--not making any compromises--would be to paralyze me from living a meaningful life. I am not willing to be so principled that I overlook the critical need for pragmatism. Being willing to compromise--being pragmatic--is not a guarantee of getting the desired result--or the entirety of any desired result. But, pragmatism, and compromise are unavoidable--necessary starting points. Engaging in pragmatism, and compromise is the only hope I know of to preserve a high quality of living.
At this point in time, we do not know the impact of the debt ceiling debate will be. In my own life, the compromises I have been called to make to date have not been implemented for long enough to know of their impact on my life. I do not know the specific compromises I will be called to make in the future. The same is true of the U.S. Congress, and the President. Yet, the price of not making compromises we are called to make is greater than making compromises, as a sign of being adults.
I plead guilty to any accusation that I am obsessed with how words are used--how words are used in describing individuals, and interactions, most notably. Words define the structure of a sentence--the foundation of a conversation. The most important words are the subtle words--the words that are deemed acceptable.
I have heard descriptions of this weekend's congressional proceedings. I include both the House and the Senate in the term, "congress." Sometimes, only the House is intended by speaking of "congressional."
News reports have described actions in Congress this weekend as, "political theater." Others have spoken with little fanfare of the "players" in the "game."
I cannot comprehend the economic figures being discussed. I know what my political--governmental--spending priorities are, yet, my focus is elsewhere. Some question what will happen if our nation's debt ceiling is not lifted. As important as the answer to that question is, I am much more concerned about the words by which the debate is framed.
Dumbfounded. Whose life involves no compromise? Whose life is ideal? Do any of us choose the life circumstances we have been given to live? Yes, we do have control--some control--over the quality of our lives. But, that is because we have chosen how we will live the circumstances we have been given to live.
I don't like some of the compromises that my life circumstances have called me to make. Yet, the alternative--not making any compromises--would be to paralyze me from living a meaningful life. I am not willing to be so principled that I overlook the critical need for pragmatism. Being willing to compromise--being pragmatic--is not a guarantee of getting the desired result--or the entirety of any desired result. But, pragmatism, and compromise are unavoidable--necessary starting points. Engaging in pragmatism, and compromise is the only hope I know of to preserve a high quality of living.
At this point in time, we do not know the impact of the debt ceiling debate will be. In my own life, the compromises I have been called to make to date have not been implemented for long enough to know of their impact on my life. I do not know the specific compromises I will be called to make in the future. The same is true of the U.S. Congress, and the President. Yet, the price of not making compromises we are called to make is greater than making compromises, as a sign of being adults.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Civic Responsibility
More and more, as time goes on, I find myself much less ardent in my advocacy for a given cause. Although if called to label myself politically, I would describe myself as liberal, that does not suffice to describe my perspective. I am far more ardent an advocate for civility, respect, pragmatism, and civic engagement.
I am a resident of St. Paul, Minnesota. As such, I witnessed an irresponsible government shutdown. Irresponsible--the negotiation strategies employed, rather than any of the facts that resulted in the shutdown warrant irresponsible. Time elapsed. Compromise prevailed. Now, the Minnesota State government is open, and operational now. I was not affected directly. I am a friend of a state employee. I am a citizen of Minnesota. Yet, on a day-to-day basis, the shutdown did not have a short-term impact on me.
Civic responsibility. The debt ceiling negotiations. I am not an economist. I do not play one on television. I am a citizen of the United States. I am a recipient of SSDI. Neither of these elements of me may have any part in the debt ceiling negotiations. Yet, both elements lead me to reflection.
Many people are heard to say, "throw the bums out!" in relation to officeholders, who vote for a given piece of legislation, or a given political persuasion. I am not so inclined. I vote on the basis of the current needs at Election Day, and the needs I perceive for the future. I do not vote for a given political candidate as a vote against the opposing candidate. Such an approach does not give anyone the mandate he or she needs to govern. I do not engage in name-calling with regard to a given officeholder, candidate, or political movement. To do so dilutes my integrity, credibility, and influence for my convictions.
Principled pragmatism.
Typical of many college students, I was an idealist. I was a passionate advocate for issues of personal interest, knowledge, and understanding. Had life been perfect, I would have pursued paid work promoting the awareness of disabilities.
With time--with the realities of career disappointments, among other factors--I became more of a pragmatist. College ideals gave way to the need for a job, health insurance, among other things.
Recently, I have listened with disgust to the individuals engaged in the debt ceiling debate. Participants are so firmly entrenched in their principles that there is no room for compromise--for pragmatism.
Principles and pragmatism need not be diametrically opposed. In fact, they are intimates. Principles are the starting point from which negotiations regarding any debate. Yet, at the point that listening, understanding, pragmatism, and compromise are left out of the discourse, principles--however genuinely held they may be--lose their credence.
Civic Responsibility. Principles. Listening. Understanding. Listening. Pragmatism. Compromise. Principled Pragmatism. Civic Responsibility. These need not be complicated undertakings. These are worthy of celebration. When they prevail, we may inhale civility's breath.
I am a resident of St. Paul, Minnesota. As such, I witnessed an irresponsible government shutdown. Irresponsible--the negotiation strategies employed, rather than any of the facts that resulted in the shutdown warrant irresponsible. Time elapsed. Compromise prevailed. Now, the Minnesota State government is open, and operational now. I was not affected directly. I am a friend of a state employee. I am a citizen of Minnesota. Yet, on a day-to-day basis, the shutdown did not have a short-term impact on me.
Civic responsibility. The debt ceiling negotiations. I am not an economist. I do not play one on television. I am a citizen of the United States. I am a recipient of SSDI. Neither of these elements of me may have any part in the debt ceiling negotiations. Yet, both elements lead me to reflection.
Many people are heard to say, "throw the bums out!" in relation to officeholders, who vote for a given piece of legislation, or a given political persuasion. I am not so inclined. I vote on the basis of the current needs at Election Day, and the needs I perceive for the future. I do not vote for a given political candidate as a vote against the opposing candidate. Such an approach does not give anyone the mandate he or she needs to govern. I do not engage in name-calling with regard to a given officeholder, candidate, or political movement. To do so dilutes my integrity, credibility, and influence for my convictions.
Principled pragmatism.
Typical of many college students, I was an idealist. I was a passionate advocate for issues of personal interest, knowledge, and understanding. Had life been perfect, I would have pursued paid work promoting the awareness of disabilities.
With time--with the realities of career disappointments, among other factors--I became more of a pragmatist. College ideals gave way to the need for a job, health insurance, among other things.
Recently, I have listened with disgust to the individuals engaged in the debt ceiling debate. Participants are so firmly entrenched in their principles that there is no room for compromise--for pragmatism.
Principles and pragmatism need not be diametrically opposed. In fact, they are intimates. Principles are the starting point from which negotiations regarding any debate. Yet, at the point that listening, understanding, pragmatism, and compromise are left out of the discourse, principles--however genuinely held they may be--lose their credence.
Civic Responsibility. Principles. Listening. Understanding. Listening. Pragmatism. Compromise. Principled Pragmatism. Civic Responsibility. These need not be complicated undertakings. These are worthy of celebration. When they prevail, we may inhale civility's breath.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Betty Ford
Oh, gosh. Betty Ford died today.
My heart skipped a beat--sank--upon reading that former First Lady Betty Ford died today at the age of 93. She served in office--as the First Lady--when I was a teenager. Several years after my grandmother died of breast cancer--at a time when breast cancer ravaged the spirits of women, whose tissues it invaded--Betty Ford gave voice to the disease.
Betty Ford was not an abrasive woman. She abided by the expectations of her generation. She lived the realities of a demanding political life--the wife of a long-time U.S. Representative. She raised four children. She did not do so begrudgingly. She was not seeking a career beyond her young family. Her public career--her sphere of influence--would be broadened beyond what could have been imagined by anyone, thanks to the Ford family entry into the nation's history.
Yet, at the same time, Betty Ford was hardly a spineless wallflower. In the best sense of the word, Betty Ford was an opportunist--a graceful opportunist. She took her life experiences--her personal challenges--and transformed them into sources of help from which others so challenged could find practical help, and personal strength. Just as Betty Ford was the face of a country learning how to articulate what Gloria Steinem, and others advocated--women's rights. Betty Ford was comfortable giving voice to uncomfortable social realities of our time together--marijuana, addiction, premarital sex, and abortion, among others. Betty Ford gave a face--literally--to putt
Obituaries, and memorials offered for individuals, who have died recently--Betty Ford, can seem maudlin. Yet, maudlinness survives only when we fail to ignite in our spirits the essence of Betty Ford in our own lives. How did we know her? When did we meet her? Did Betty Ford give voice to values--issues--of import to us? Did Betty Ford teach us anything about ourselves--about our world?
My heart skipped a beat--sank--upon reading that former First Lady Betty Ford died today at the age of 93. She served in office--as the First Lady--when I was a teenager. Several years after my grandmother died of breast cancer--at a time when breast cancer ravaged the spirits of women, whose tissues it invaded--Betty Ford gave voice to the disease.
Betty Ford was not an abrasive woman. She abided by the expectations of her generation. She lived the realities of a demanding political life--the wife of a long-time U.S. Representative. She raised four children. She did not do so begrudgingly. She was not seeking a career beyond her young family. Her public career--her sphere of influence--would be broadened beyond what could have been imagined by anyone, thanks to the Ford family entry into the nation's history.
Yet, at the same time, Betty Ford was hardly a spineless wallflower. In the best sense of the word, Betty Ford was an opportunist--a graceful opportunist. She took her life experiences--her personal challenges--and transformed them into sources of help from which others so challenged could find practical help, and personal strength. Just as Betty Ford was the face of a country learning how to articulate what Gloria Steinem, and others advocated--women's rights. Betty Ford was comfortable giving voice to uncomfortable social realities of our time together--marijuana, addiction, premarital sex, and abortion, among others. Betty Ford gave a face--literally--to putt
Obituaries, and memorials offered for individuals, who have died recently--Betty Ford, can seem maudlin. Yet, maudlinness survives only when we fail to ignite in our spirits the essence of Betty Ford in our own lives. How did we know her? When did we meet her? Did Betty Ford give voice to values--issues--of import to us? Did Betty Ford teach us anything about ourselves--about our world?
Sunday, April 3, 2011
A Convergence of Ages--Family Ages
This weekend three generations spanning sixty years converged. An evening gathering. I sat, and listened as an aunt, and a daughter. Though old enough to be so, I am not a mother. My daughter's eyes were clarified. No one may defy age forever. My head knows this truth. My daughter's eyes saw what the youngest in our gathering did not see--did not want to see or hear of his elders.
Though I have been blessed with a strong bond with my nephews, life circumstances do not give me the vehicle necessary to convey the importance of working. I am a poor example to my nephews of the commitment to the less glamorous parts of life--the substance of the working life. Rarely am I speechless. Rarely am I at a loss for how to communicate what needs to be said in a gentle, but diplomatic manner.
I recognize the fallacy of the question, "What do you want to do when you grow up?" Yet, there must be some such question that is not laden with condescension, and implications of disrespect. What is the question? I believe myself to be an open-minded person, who strives to avoid the pitfalls of being judgmental. Yet, I am frightened by the cluelessness I am witnessing. Is what I am experiencing just my time for what all "older generations" of youth experience?
I guess if I am questioning what the proper question of those younger than I, then I should hardly expect to have any answers. So, I ponder.
Though I have been blessed with a strong bond with my nephews, life circumstances do not give me the vehicle necessary to convey the importance of working. I am a poor example to my nephews of the commitment to the less glamorous parts of life--the substance of the working life. Rarely am I speechless. Rarely am I at a loss for how to communicate what needs to be said in a gentle, but diplomatic manner.
I recognize the fallacy of the question, "What do you want to do when you grow up?" Yet, there must be some such question that is not laden with condescension, and implications of disrespect. What is the question? I believe myself to be an open-minded person, who strives to avoid the pitfalls of being judgmental. Yet, I am frightened by the cluelessness I am witnessing. Is what I am experiencing just my time for what all "older generations" of youth experience?
I guess if I am questioning what the proper question of those younger than I, then I should hardly expect to have any answers. So, I ponder.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Perfection's Exhaustion
Were you to ask me in younger days, I would have proclaimed myself to be an idealist. I had principles that were contrary to the norm. I was a fool enough to believe that I could conquer the norm with my enthusiasm. To some degree, I did. Yet, life's realities had other designs on me.
I fought losing idealism as a compromise in my beliefs--a wholly unacceptable compromise. I fought being a realist--a pragmatist. That was an evil option I was determined to avoid at all costs. I did not recognize what the nature or magnitude of those costs might be.
I fought losing idealism as a compromise in my beliefs--a wholly unacceptable compromise. I fought being a realist--a pragmatist. That was an evil option I was determined to avoid at all costs. I did not recognize what the nature or magnitude of those costs might be.
This week I have spoke with a number of people, whom I think of as pragmatists--realists--reminded me of those two extremes. Today reminded me to reevaluate how I understand myself.
Today's cold is having the unexpected effect of clarifying my misconception--of who the realists are, and who the idealists are. One is not better than the other. It is a balance between those two extremes that comes the closest to offering any modicum of fulfillment.
My friends express an idealism that I don't know how to reconcile. Life is not perfect. Seeking to find just the right life path to live one's principles does not guarantee a "happy"--a fulfilling life. My friends are not alone in wanting to find that perfect life--that life without compromise.
Being idealistic is exhausting. It is not to say the investment should never be made. Quite to the contrary. Being idealistic is pragmatism's antidote. Idealism is a vaccine protecting a person from being infected with cynicism.
But, pragmatism is not the enemy--not idealism's antagonist. I go to bed tonight exhausted by the idealist's demand for the perfect life's path. I know no perfect pursuit, which is free of compromise.
Is it possible that what we view as living a compromised life is in truth our perfection, rather than a pristine pursuit of an idyllic life to which we should aspire?
Is it possible that what we view as living a compromised life is in truth our perfection, rather than a pristine pursuit of an idyllic life to which we should aspire?
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