mad as hell and what to do about it

Alex posted this video on his blog last week. It's a sound byte from a 1976 movie called, "Network," paired with music and also the kynetic typography of Aaron Leming. It really connected with me, but then, when the video was over, I was sitting there with a raging fire in my bosom and only a spoon in my upraised hand. And the old question of what to do about it lingered, unanswered.

Tonight Jason and I were scratching our heads in confusion and shaking them in sadness and anger over this rash of people in our own country kidnapping each other, cutting them into tidbits, etc. etc. It's like everyone has lost their ever-loving mind. But, as we discuss continually, we're all so isolated! We live in bubbles. We drive in bubbles. You can work from home, shop from home, find love from home. Nobody really has to interact with each other, just basic interaction, I mean, and discuss even the weather, much less the demons in their lives. This sterility creates bad things! We're afraid of each other, because we don't know each other. No community means nobody to temper our mental states, precarious as they are.

So how do we combat the fear, loneliness, and isolation that leads not only to unfulfilled living but also, apparently, to boundless deprivation? Well, to my way of thinking, this, another great post from Tamie, goes with the video like cotton and candy. (All text following the video is lifted directly from Tamie's post, with her permission.) Watch the vid, then read the text. I predict you'll get mad as hell, then calm down and start figuring out what to do next.

Jon and I were discussing tonight at dinner how it's so much easier to sit around talking about all the crazy people, than it is to discuss pragmatic ways of relating to, and caring for, all the crazy people.  Personally, I think this is a symptom of our feeling of powerlessness.  But this is no good, friends.  Because some of those crazy people are suffering for real, and some of those crazy people are causing others real suffering.  We have to be better than just sitting around talking about things.  We have to figure out how to provide real, substantial, meaningful support to parents who are struggling, to alcoholics who are on the verge of relapsing, to the humble husband on the quiet verge of harming himself, to the child--the one from the good family--being sexually abused. 

I have some assignments for you, my amazing readers.  And for myself.

The first thing is this:

I want all of us to admit that we need help.  I don't mean to admit, in some mamby-pamby theological way, "I need help, as a human being."  No.  I mean, that I want all of us to think about some concrete way that we need help.  And I want us to ask for it.  Here are some examples:

-If you are struggling with an addiction and haven't told anyone, reach out to someone you trust and tell that person.  Tell that person you need help.

-If you are lonely, and need someone to come over and play a board game with you, or take a walk with you, or hold you for a while, or talk to you on the phone, reach out to a trusted someone and ask for that help.

-If you feel you have something to offer, but are feeling sad that no one has asked you for that thing, go volunteer that something.  That is a form of asking for help too.

-If you need encouragment, e-mail or call someone and tell them you need encouragement.  It is a good thing sometimes to just go ahead and ask for encouragement.

The second thing is this:

I want us all to think about how we can offer meaningful help to someone today.  Is your Great Aunt Matilda in the nursing home, and you haven't called her recently?  Is there a homeless man on the streets who could use a warm meal, no strings attached?  Could your middle child use a date with you all by himself?  Do you know an exhausted parent who could really use a free night to himself--and could you therefore offer to babysit (free of charge!)?  There are also some great organizations who are helping suffering people; they could put your money to good use.  (You can ask me for suggestions, if you don't know of these organizations; I know a couple fantastic ones.)

The third thing is this:

What concrete kindness can you do for yourself today?  I think this is a tough one, because we live in this "pamper-yourself" society.  But what kindness do you need of yourself today?  I don't mean so much a manicure (but maybe) as a surrender of self-cruelty.

Let's really do these assignments, okay?  It's okay if you can't do all three.  Pick one.  But if you have to only pick one, think carefully about which one you choose.  If you tend to constantly be reaching out to others, choose #1.  Okay?  And meanwhile, let's talk with each other more about concrete, practical ways to help each other, and let's spend less time bashing all those idiotic conservatives/liberals/TEA partyers/church-goers/atheists.  Okay?

snails

Haven't sat down at the computer to blog in several days (obviously), partially because of an unexpected trip north of Austin to buy a Subaru we found on craigslist. Great deal, great transaction. Woop! Plus while we were there, we found an old double-jogger for $50. Double woop! Just in time for baby Bennett's visit southward. I took it out for a test run yesterday, and this is weird, but it actually pulls you along and encourages you to jog! Like, walking with it seems unbearably slow, maybe because you're looking over at your tractor-trailer-sized shadow. I think I strained a muscle in my leg, which figures. If you jog only thrice a year, don't expect pretty results.

Anyway, I've still been lethargic and snaily, so I thought this would be a good time to post snail pics from a few weeks ago. Zoralee and I gathered these snails one morning after a night of rain. Somehow, despite the best efforts of the humans, a semblance of nature is thriving way deep down in the moist crevices of our manicured 2x10' lawn. 

the beginning of the photo shoot, when everybody was tucked snugly into their shell

close-up of the "a," 20 seconds later, when everybody started getting antsy

farting around - nobody takes their work seriously anymore

less than 2 minutes after the original picture

a bonus find!

I guess this would be a good time to mention that I have had this random fear whenever I stick my hand down into our sink drain, which I do to ensure there are no runaway silverwares before I start the disposal. Other people do that too, right? Anyway, lately I keep thinking there's going to be a dead mouse in there. How/why it would be there, I have no idea, but this thought seems to be a result of Rachel's and Amy's recent posts about finding little creatures in their homes. Another funny little way of being connected to people in tangible ways through blogville. Well, and Rachel is my sister too. But I've never met Amy, yet I think of her at random times anymore, like when I see birds. We're all connected, people.

Minimalism - Kinetic Typography Poem

Thanks, Alex.

bit o' ramblin'

I am excited to blabbety blab blab about this pregnancy and other goings on, but I've enjoyed letting that Prego picture linger at the top of my blog.

But, real quick, any opinions out there about the threat level that nursing for 15 minutes in 24 hours could pose on a developing fetus? I'm thinking, "next to nothing." Jason is more worried. Zoralee still nurses before bed and nap, and once in the middle of the night, for a total of 15 minutes tops. I'm tired all the time. All the time. Major insomnia every night. I'm sure giving Z some of my hard-earned calories doesn't help my daytime fatigue level (getting sleep would!), but shouldn't I be able to compensate for the nursing with extra caloric intake? I wanted to ask the nurse midwife this question and a few others, but we didn't have time...for...any...questions at our first visit (?!). But that's for another post: nurse-midwives and home birth midwives are two separate balls of wax. Okay, that's a broad, unfair statement. My home birth midwife in Montana and the nurse midwife practice here in Texas (which I chose simply because they're covered by insurance; I won't even be here for the delivery) have such different approaches! I never knew! I am learning.
 

Off the subject, raise your hand if it drives you BATTY that most National Geographic shows play dramatic music no matter what's happening. A bird drinks from a calm stream. Duhn-duhn-duhn! A monkey scratches its ear. Duhn-duhn-duhn! Jason wants to make a series called "Mediocre Migrations," where average things happen to average animals, and the narrator tells about it real relaxed-like.

It has been serious winter weather here in southern Texas, with daytime temperatures dipping into the 70's. I have been craving comfort foods - soups, stews, chocolate cake. Oh, I guess I like chocolate cake year round. 


The other day, I was talking to this lady about kids and what they watch on t.v. I told her I let Zoralee watch Dora The Explorer. She said to me, all resigned, and with a far-off look in her eye, "Yeah, they all start on Dora." I wanted to laugh out loud, but she wasn't being funny. I guess Dora the Explorer is the gateway cartoon.


Nighty night, friends.