Sunday, February 26, 2012

Sunday Morning Ponderables

To any thinking person, it must be obvious that there is something badly wrong in relations between human beings and the animals that human beings rely on for food; and that in the past 100 or 150 years whatever is wrong has become wrong on a huge scale, as traditional animal husbandry has been turned into an industry using industrial methods of production. There are many other ways in which our relations to animals are wrong (to name two: the fur trade, experimentation on animals in laboratories), but the food industry, which turns living animals into what it euphemistically calls animal products - animal products and animal byproducts - dwarfs all others in the number of individual animal lives it affects.

The vast majority of the public have an equivocal attitude to the industrial use of animals: they make use of the products of that industry, but are nevertheless a little sickened, a little queasy, when they think of what happens on factory farms and in abattoirs*. Therefore they arrange their lives in such a way that they need be reminded of farms and abattoirs as little as possible, and do their best to ensure that their children are kept in the dark too, because as we all know children have tender hearts and are easily moved.

The transformation of animals into production units dates back to the late 19th century, and since that time we have already had one warning on the grandest scale that there is something deeply, cosmically wrong with regarding and treating fellow beings as mere units of any kind. This warning came so loud and clear that one would have thought it impossible to ignore. It came when in the mid-20th century a group of powerful and bloody-minded men in Germany hit on the idea of adapting the methods of the industrial stockyard, as pioneered and perfected in Chicago, to the slaughter - or what they preferred to call the processing - of human beings.

Of course we cried out in horror when we found out what they had been up to. We cried: What a terrible crime, to treat human beings like cattle! If only we had known beforehand! But our cry should more accurately have been: What a terrible crime, to treat human beings like units in an industrial process! And that cry should have had a postscript: What a terrible crime, come to think of it - a crime against nature - to treat any living being like a unit in an industrial process!


It would be a mistake to idealize traditional animal husbandry as the standard by which the animal-products industry falls short: traditional animal husbandry is brutal enough, just on a smaller scale. A better standard by which to judge both practices would be the simple standard of humanity: is this truly the best that human beings are capable of?

The efforts of the animal-rights movement, the broad movement that situates itself on the spectrum somewhere between the meliorism of the animal welfare bodies and the radicalism of animal liberation, are rightly directed at decent people who both know and don't know that there is something going on that stinks to high heaven - people who will say, "Yes, it's terrible what lives brood sows live, it's terrible what lives veal calves live," but who will then add, with a helpless shrug of the shoulders, "What can I do about it?"

The task of the movement is to offer such people imaginative but practical options for what to do next after they have been revolted by a glimpse of the lives factory animals live and the deaths they die. People need to see that there are alternatives to supporting the animal-products industry, that these alternatives need not involve any sacrifice in health or nutrition, that there is no reason why these alternatives need be costly, and furthermore that what are commonly called sacrifices are not sacrifices at all - that the only sacrifices in the whole picture, in fact, are being made by non-human animals.

In this respect, children provide the brightest hope. Children have tender hearts, that is to say, children have hearts that have not yet been hardened by years of cruel and unnatural battering. Given half a chance, children see through the lies with which advertisers bombard them (the happy chooks that are transformed painlessly into succulent nuggets, the smiling moo-cow that donates to us the bounty of her milk). It takes but one glance into a slaughterhouse to turn a child into a lifelong vegetarian.

Factory farming is a new phenomenon, very new in the history of animal husbandry. The good news is that after a couple of decades of what the businessmen behind it must have regarded as free and unlimited expansion, the industry has been formed onto the defensive. The activities of animal-rights organizations have shifted the onus onto the industry to justify its practices; and because its practices are indefensible and unjustifiable except on the most narrowly economistic grounds ("Do you want to pay $1.50 more for a dozen eggs?") the industry is battening down its hatches and hoping the storm will blow itself out. Insofar as there was a public relations war, the industry has already lost that war.

A final note. The campaign of human beings for animal rights is curious in one respect: that the creatures on whose behalf human beings are acting are unaware of what their benefactors are up to and, if they succeed, are unlikely to thank them. There is even a sense in which animals do not know what is wrong.

They do certainly not know what is wrong in the same way that we human beings know what is wrong. Thus, however close the well-meaning benefactor may feel to his or her fellow animals, the animal-rights campaign remains a human project from beginning to end.

* abattoir: a slaughterhouse

J.M. Coetzee was the 2003 Nobel Prize laureate for literature. The above is an edited extract of a speech he wrote, given on his behalf by Hugo Weaving in Sydney on February 22, 2007.


*   *   *

It's not that we can make a difference, it's that we do make a difference, in everything we do and every choice we make. We have the choice whether we want that difference to be negative or positive, and you'll find that notion either very empowering or very scary because it means it's up to you.

~ Colleen Patrick-Goudreau, activist, vegan cookbook author, producer of the Vegetarian Food for Thought podcast, and founder of Compassionate Cooks.

*   *   *

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.

~ Dalai Lama


*   *   *

The greatness of a nation and its moral progress, can be judged by the way its animals are treated. 

~ M. Gandhi


My husband Stephen, enjoying the company of Whitaker, a resident of Farm Sanctuary in Orland, CA.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Grandmother

"She's gone," my mom told me through tears over invisible lines stretching from her to me through space as she and my father were driving to visit my grandmother in the hospital. How cruel it seemed to me, the timing. "Mom, I'm so sorry," was all I could muster through my own tears.

Hanging up the phone, I was transported immediately in my mind to a time one month prior, sitting in my living room with my mother and my grandmother and my crazy rambunctious 3-year-old daughter -- 4 generations of women, all bound by blood, in the same room -- and I was overcome by a profound desire to know my grandmother. I looked at her in all her unassuming elegance and quiet, and I swore I could see words beneath her aging skin. Stories. And I knew she would tell me these stories if I asked. And I knew she'd have some juicy ones. And I knew I would never regret asking.

I did not ask. Conversation remained small and light. I gave into my fears and lost yet another moment once filled to the brim with potential for human, heart-felt connection. Watch it, feel it, there it goes...

The next night at a dinner to celebrate my father's birthday, twice during the course of conversation I felt suddenly compelled to tell my grandmother something and actually acted on the impulse. One: during a conversation about parenting, and how it's impossible to ever feel like an "expert in the field" because the game is constantly changing, I said to my grandmother something along the lines of, "I bow down to you, oh Mother of Six. Honestly, Grama, you are a stronger woman than I." And Two: as we were saying our goodbyes I was taken aback by how lovely she looked. I remembered thinking the same thing the day before in my living room, and at other occasions in the past, and I remembered that I ignored the impulse to tell her. This time I told her. And I told her that I have always noticed how lovely and put-together she is. I was genuine, as was her smile in response. I don't know that these were particularly special moments for my grandmother, but they mean something to me. They were real, loving moments, where I ignored my insecurities and my nervousness and acted on loving impulse. And I am thankful to my grandmother for bringing that out in me in those moments.

I need to act on loving impulse more often.

I have a friend who can't get over the slowness with which I accomplish certain mundane tasks, such as buttering toast. I like buttering toast. It is not a task lacking in pleasure, its sole purpose being the lead-up to the act of consumption. I feel the knife in my hand; I like the weight of it. I am careful when I scoop the butter; if crumbs are deposited, they are quickly removed. And I firmly believe that buttered toast should be buttered. As in completely. I recently found out (or rediscovered?) that I picked up this habit from my mother, who picked it up from my grandmother. Now, I not only enjoy buttering toast, not only can I say I do it well, but it is now, also, quite special to me. Buttering toast now brings to mind for me my mother, and my grandmother, and this beautifully complex thing we call family.

My grandmother is my family. I love her and I will miss her now that she's gone, but I am sad to say that I have never felt very close to her. Seven to eight hours driving time has separated us for nearly my entire life. Visits once or twice a year (or less) were not enough, at least for me, to form a close bond.

And so life goes on. And before you know it, you find yourself as an adult, with children of your own, sitting with your grandmother in your living room, faced with the realization that you don't even know her.

And you want to know her. And you're practically bursting at the seams with questions that you don't ask, telling yourself that you'll visit, soon, and you'll drink tea together, and talk for hours and laugh and maybe cry and in the end you will know her. At least a little bit.

A month later, you get a phone call and realize you missed your chance. That window has closed, never to open again.

At least you still have buttered toast.

Two days ago, I had a migraine. It came on swiftly and was completely debilitating for a good hour. The pain and nausea eventually passed, but I felt out of it, numb, for the rest of the day. Stephen offered, "maybe you're just stressed," which I rebuffed. I didn't feel stressed, I told him.

I realize now that I am. My body has been in northern California, while my mind has been south, where the former home of my grandmother's spirit lies. I have been stressed because since that phone call from my mother, I have been contemplating death nearly nonstop, and death is heavy and mysterious and...inevitable. It does not surprise me that my brain felt the need to short circuit for a bit.

If given the opportunity to view the body, I will accept. I read somewhere that doing so can help you come to terms with the death, to see that the body is only a shell, or a vessel. Her spirit no longer resides there.

I will look at her body in its quiet coldness, a sleep that looks nothing like sleep, and I will know she is no longer subject to the sufferings of flesh. I will imagine her spirit, shiny and beautiful and perfect, merging with the spirits of those who went before. And I will smile. And I will cry. And I will listen, really listen, to the stories her loved ones tell. At this point, what more can I do?

Grama, in your passing, you have given me a gift. You have wakened me to the realization that death is not only impossible to avoid, but the exact moment it will touch your life is impossible to know. Do not wait until tomorrow to do what your soul compels you to do. This moment is all we have.

I love you, Grama. May you and Pop now rest in peace, together once again.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sunday Morning Ponderables

There is no place on earth where death cannot find us -- even if we constantly twist our heads about in all directions as in a dubious and suspect land . . . If there were any way of sheltering from death's blows -- I am not the man to recoil from it . . . But it is madness to think that you can succeed . . .
     Men come and they go and they trot and they dance, and never a word about death. All well and good. Yet when death does come -- to them, their wives, their children, their friends -- catching them unawares and unprepared, then what storms of passion overwhelm them, what cries, what fury, what despair! . . .
     To begin depriving death of its greatest advantage over us, let us adopt a way clean contrary to that common one; let us deprive death of its strangeness, let us frequent it, let us get used to it; let us have nothing more often in mind than death . . . We do not know where death awaits us: so let us wait for it everywhere. To practice death is to practice freedom. A man who has learned how to die has unlearned how to be a slave.
MONTAIGNE

*   *   *

If we look into our lives, we will see clearly how many unimportant tasks, so-called "responsibilities" accumulate to fill them up. [...] We tell ourselves we want to spend time on the important things of life, but there never is any time. Even simply to get up in the morning, there is so much to do: open the window, make the bed, take a shower, brush your teeth, feed the dog or cat, do last night's washing up, discover you are out of sugar or coffee, go and buy them, make breakfast -- the list is endless. Then there are clothes to sort out, choose, iron, and fold up again. And what about your hair, or your makeup? Helpless, we watch our days fill up with telephone calls and petty projects, with so many responsibilities -- or shouldn't we call them "irresponsibilities"?

Our lives seem to live us, to possess their own bizarre momentum, to carry us away; in the end we feel we have no choice or control over them. Of course we feel bad about this sometimes, we have nightmares and wake up in a sweat, wondering: "What am I doing with my life?" But our fears only last until breakfast time; out comes the briefcase, and back we go to where we started.

*   *   *

Taking life seriously does not mean spending our whole lives meditating as if we were living in the mountains in the Himalayas or in the old days in Tibet. In the modern world, we have to work and earn our living, but we should not get entangled in a nine-to-five existence, where we live without any view of the deeper meaning of life. Our task is to strike a balance, to find a middle way, to learn not to overstretch ourselves with extraneous activities and preoccupations, but to simplify our lives more and more. The key to finding a happy balance in modern lives is simplicity.

*   *   *

The cells of our body are dying, the neurons in our brain are decaying, even the expression on our face is always changing, depending on our mood. What we call our basic character is only a "mindstream," nothing more. Today we feel good because things are going well; tomorrow we feel the opposite. Where did that good feeling go? New influences took us over as circumstances changed: We are impermanent, the influences are impermanent, and there is nothing solid or lasting anywhere that we can point to.

What could be more unpredictable than our thoughts and emotions: do you have any idea what you are going to think or feel next? Our mind, in fact, is as empty, as impermanent, and as transient as a dream. Look at a thought: It comes, it stays, and it goes. The past is past, the future not yet risen, and even the present thought, as we experience it, becomes the past.

The only thing we really have is nowness, is now.

Sometimes when I teach these things, a person will come up to me afterward and say: "All this seems obvious! I've always known it. Tell me something new." I say to him or her: "Have you actually understood, and realized, the truth of impermanence? Have you so integrated it with your every thought, breath, and movement that your life has been transformed? Ask yourself these two questions: Do I remember at every moment that I am dying, and everyone and everything else is, and so treat all beings at all times with compassion? Has my understanding of death and impermanence become so keen and so urgent that I am devoting every second to the pursuit of enlightenment? If you can answer 'yes' to both of these, then you have really understood impermanence."


(All passages taken from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, written by Sogyal Rinpoche.)



Monday, February 13, 2012

Made With Love by Grampa Sam

My parents watched the kids recently so Stephen and I could get out for a bit and, during their visit, my dad shot some video which he later pieced together into the movie that follows. I realize that, at ten minutes long, it may not be as entertaining for others as it is for me. But watching it makes me endlessly happy, so I felt the need to share. Grandparents are a wonderful thing. I'm so glad my children are able to have such close relationships with theirs...

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Sunday Morning Ponderables

Unconditionality vs. Desires


Q: How do you reconcile "unconditionality" with having preferences and desires? If you're totally unconditional, shouldn't everything be fine the way it is?

A: Unconditionality doesn't mean having no preferences or desires; it means that you don't let the temporary absence of your preferred conditions prevent you from enjoying the present moment...

"When conditions are to my liking, I feel
great! (Obviously.) And when conditions are
not to my liking, I enjoy anticipating the
unfolding of my preferred conditions."

The idea that you can't enjoy this moment because of unwanted conditions is a LIE perpetuated by our conditional culture -- a lie that serves no purpose other than to keep people feeling powerless!

Unconditionality says, "Enjoying the here and now is my top priority, so I'm not going to use these conditions as an excuse to separate from my natural state of well-being."

So when your child "misbehaves," or your partner is unsupportive, or you're sleep-deprived, etc., use those unwanted conditions to help you clarify what you *do* want. Then practice unconditionality by accepting the present conditions AND joyfully anticipating the fulfillment of your desires.

- Scott Noelle, author of The Daily Groove (www.enjoyparenting.com/dailygroove)

Friday, February 10, 2012

Eco Tip Tuesday: Walk More! Or Bike/Skateboard/Scoot/Skip/Ride Public Transit More!

(I suppose "Drive Less" would have been a more efficient title.)

So I planned on taking this week off from Eco Tip Tuesday, but I did something today that I've never done before and it inspired me to write: I walked to the bank!

Now, we are not a family that drives excessively. Not because we're morally superior to those who do, but because we don't have to. I'm a stay-at-home mom who spends a good deal of time, well, staying at home. We have close friends and family within walking distance; my son's school is a few blocks down from our house; and my husband, who works 48-hour shifts, only has to drive to and from work once a week. Additionally, most places that we'd want to drive to (Target, the grocery store, the bank, the hardware store) require 15 minutes or less driving time. I only have to fill my tank about once every five or six weeks. So, to be honest, cutting back on my driving isn't something I often give much thought to. Until today.

I needed to go to the bank today, and planned on doing so with my daughter after taking my son to school. We typically walk to school, it being so close and all, but occasionally I will drive him there if I plan on running errands immediately afterward. The weather was so beautiful today, I figured it a crime against nature to drive a distance that takes less than five minutes to walk. And then I had a thought: instead of walking to school and then walking back home to get the car, why don't I just keep on walking straight to the bank?

So that's what I did! I put Nori in the jogging stroller, grabbed our (reusable) water bottles, and we were off! After waving goodbye to big bro, we kept on walkin'. Nori played contentedly with a few animal figures she brought along, occasionally stopping to take in the sights. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, the sweet smell of exhaust filled the air (okay, maybe that part wasn't so great). I did feel a bit apprehensive about pushing such precious cargo across the busy Watt Avenue/Folsom Blvd. intersection, and we did come to a point where some road/sidewalk work prevented us from going any further (that is, until a kindly construction worker escorted us past the heavy equipment), but other than that the walk was easy peasy! (Don't worry, Stephen, I did not wear headphones, obeyed all traffic laws, and turned my Mama Bear Protection Radar on high.) Really, all of these factors combined only served to make this my most adventurous trip to the bank yet!

The walk took about 50 minutes round-trip, and by the time we got home, Nori was asleep. Did some sit-ups, pushups, and stretching, and hot damn! Not only did I run my errand, but I knocked out a complete workout too!

I realize that not everyone has a schedule as flexible as mine. But I'm pretty sure that most of us could figure out ways to drive less. Maybe it's bringing a sack lunch to work or walking to a nearby restaurant instead of driving. Maybe it's taking public transportation to and from work. I realize that requires extra time in the morning, but who knows? You might enjoy it. (I've heard from reliable sources that it can be pretty nice escaping into a novel during the commute, rather than grumbling at the traffic.) Maybe you do it once or twice a week, and drive the other three. Or, maybe it's as simple as walking to the bank now and then.

Walking (or running or skipping or biking or skating or scooting...) is good for you. It's good for the body, and some may say it's good for the soul. One thing is certain: it's good for Mother Earth. Trust me, she doesn't mind being walked on. Just don't take her for granted.

Happy Friday, Everyone! Go for a walk this weekend!

If only the walk to the bank looked like this.

*Eco Tip Tuesday General Disclaimer: I am not perfect. Nor do I claim to have all the answers. I'm simply a human being who happens to think this planet we call home is pretty special, worthy of our love and protection. As such, I've made it a personal mission to reduce my negative impact and increase my positive impact on the world. Eco Tip Tuesday is a space for me to share what I've learned. And I am WAY open to feedback. So if you've got something to say, let's talk!

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

2011 Recap (Warning: Extreme Navel-Gazing Ahead)

I'm taking this week off from Eco Tip Tuesday because I've been meaning to do this recap of 2011 survey thingamajig for quite some time now. I filled it out last year for 2010 and would like to do it every year. I think it will be interesting to look back on these years from now. So, here goes...

1) What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?
Celebrated six years of marriage. Watched my son graduate from preschool, and then start kindergarten. Tried indoor rock-climbing. Visited Farm Sanctuary in Orland. Participated in Farm Sanctuary's Walk for Animals. Took Nori camping for the first (and second) time in her life. Participated in Flickr's Project 365 (and then quit after 232 days). Took a (very brief) photography course with my bestie. Baked my own bread. Purchased a phone with functions beyond making phone calls and taking crappy photos.

2) Did you keep your new year's resolutions and did you make any for 2012?
I made a lot of very specific new year's resolutions for 2011. In keeping them, I'd say I was about 20% successful. I don't want to talk about it. For 2012, I've chosen to err on the side of spare and vague: 1) avoid The Heavy*, 2) be kind to myself and others, and 3) continually check in with myself to make sure my actions are in line with my aspirations. Oh! And, 4) create!

3) Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.

4) Did anyone close to you die?
No, thankfully.

5) What countries did you visit.
None. Bah!

6) What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
The intestinal fortitude necessary to "move confidently in the direction of my dreams." Also, a magical map leading the way.

7) What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
While I experienced many memorable moments during the course of the year, there is only one specific date that will remain "etched" upon my memory: April 22nd, the day my younger sister got married.

8) What was your biggest achievement of the year?
My inner life in 2011 was quite complex. I felt compelled to really dig deep and analyze my motives, my actions, my aspirations, the role I play in the lives of others, etc. It wasn't my "happiest" year, and I felt relief in seeing it come to a close. But I am proud of the inner work that I did, and now feel more secure in who I am as a person and what I can bring to the world. I feel like I can now more fully express myself without worrying so much about what people think of me.

9) What was your biggest failure?
Taking myself too seriously. (Judging from Answer #8, that hasn't stopped.) But also? Not taking myself seriously enough.

10) Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing major.

11) What was the best thing you bought?
Ikea cocoon swings for the kids' rooms, my immersion blender, my 96-piece set of professional quality Tombow dual-tip markers. Also, my iPhone, which is simultaneously the worst thing I bought.

12) Where did most of your money go?
Mortgage, food/drink/entertainment.

13) What did you get really excited about?
Maggie's bachelorette party, Maggie's wedding, romantic overnighter in Mill Valley, book club meetings, birthday dinners with the ladies, 4th of July trip to Oregon, summer camping trips, Evan's preschool graduation, trip to Squaw Valley for Stephen's birthday.

14) What song will always remind you of 2011?
  • I'm gonna say Animal by Neon Trees, the song I wanted to hate, but found myself inexplicably drawn to regardless. Poppy, upbeat tune that's fun to dance to and incredibly satisfying to belt out with all your heart, combined with saucy lyrics that make me nostalgic for my early 20s...hmm...maybe the attraction isn't so inexplicable after all!
  • Oh, but also: Help I'm Alive by Metric. I liked this song pretty well when I heard it on the radio, but when I listened to it during the opening credits of Miss Representation, I became completely hooked. It soon became my own personal I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar theme song.
  • Last one, I swear: Panic Switch by Silversun Pickups. The driving baseline, the messy guitar, the slightly androgynous vocals...When I was feeling moody, which was often in 2011, I'd put on my headphones, close my eyes, and play this song real loud, just trying to sort of envelop myself in the sound.
15) Compared to this time last year, are you:
Happier or sadder? Happier.
Thinner or fatter? The same.
Richer or poorer? The same.

16) What do you wish you'd done more of?
Trying new things. Escaping to more natural surroundings. Volunteering. Meditating**.

17) What do you wish you'd done less of?
Staring at a computer screen.

18) How did you spend Christmas?
In town with family.

19) What was your favorite TV program? Portlandia, After Lately, Boardwalk Empire, So You Think You Can Dance

20) What were your favorite books of the year?
'Lit' by Mary Karr, 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett, 'Vegan's Daily Companion' by Colleen Patrick-Goudreau, 'The Full Cupboard of Life' by Alexander McCall Smith.

21) What was your favorite music from this year?
I finally hopped on the Pandora train this year (just as everyone else seems to be hopping off in favor of the Spotify train). The stations that got the most airplay (when I was in charge): Talking Heads, The Black Keys, Nina Simone, Raffi, and Depeche Mode. I was also into Florence and the Machine, The Naked and Famous, tUnE-yArDs (thanks, Ariel!), Metric, Silversun Pickups, Yael Naim, Michael Franti and Spearhead, Joanna Newsom, Muse, Mumford & Sons, Adele, and Lana Del Rey. (I became a tad obsessed with this song of hers. And, yes, I realize all the critics hate her. But, I don't know, there's something sort of interesting and sad about her that I'm drawn to. Plus, I'll never understand why people have to be so mean.)***

22) What were your favorite films of the year?
Bridesmaids, Midnight in Paris, Miss Representation

23) What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Stephen was working on my actual birthday, so Keri offered to watch the kiddos for me so I could get away for a little self-pampering. When I returned, she and the kids surprised me with an adorable little party, complete with decorations and a homemade birthday crown. It was awesome, truly. Also celebrated a little later in the month with a wine tasting excursion via limousine with my closest girlfriends. So, so fun. I turned 33.

24) What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
See answer to question #6 (intestinal fortitude, magic map, yada yada yada).

25) How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
I really don't have a concept. I just buy what I'm drawn to, assuming it fits my body and my budget. I tried to be a little more realistic when shopping this past year, keeping in mind the very casual lifestyle I lead. For example, do I really need those super cute color-blocked peep-toe stiletto pumps? No. No I do not.

26) What kept you sane?
Ha!

27) Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
What other people think of me is none of my business.


*The Heavy: a term I use to describe an obsessive, persistent, and deep sadness born not from specific circumstances in one's own life, but from the keen awareness of the general, collective suffering of humankind.
**I don't know how to meditate, but I think it would be cool.
***When I first wrote this post, after mentioning Lana Del Rey, I wrote, "Hey man, I never claimed Shitty Music and Music I Like are mutually exclusive categories!" One of my (very vague) new year's resolutions was to check in with myself often to make sure my actions are in line with my aspirations. One of my aspirations is to be authentic. Another is to be kind to myself and others. When I wrote that line, I was being neither authentic nor kind. I was nervous about people judging me for liking her music and I wrote it to make sure you know that I know it's not actually good. Pretty pathetic. So, I felt compelled to correct it.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Required Viewing: Miss Representation

Way back in October, I watched a documentary called Miss Representation. Since then, I've sat myself down and tried to write a blog post about it probably a dozen times. Nothing I wrote seemed to do the film justice and was ultimately scrapped.

But this film is important. Having seen it (three times now, truth be told), I almost feel like it's my duty to spread the word, as silly as that may seem. So, lacking adequate words of my own, I'll let the trailer do the talking...


I still get goosebumps every time I watch that. And that's just the trailer! The film itself, written, directed, and produced by Jennifer Seibel Newsom, is at once shocking, disturbing, enlightening, and inspirational. Please watch it. (Find a screening near you here; the DVD will soon be available for purchase here and rental here.) While you're at it, have your spouse watch it too. And your children, provided they're old enough (8 maybe? 10? I suppose the answer depends more on maturity level than years of age). 

After watching the film, you may feel inspired to take action (I did). But you may also feel a little lost and helpless: the problem's so big, what can I possibly do to help? (I can relate). Luckily, the documentary has an outstanding accompanying website, packed with great ideas for getting involved. I've signed up to receive weekly action alerts (emails are sent out once a week outlining one small thing you can do to help the cause) and by "liking" the film on Facebook, I stay up to date on their latest endeavors (and often get links to some great articles). If I can find the time, I just might make my own YouTube video, describing to the media how I'd like to be represented, and submit it to the website. Go here to see inspiring videos from other women and girls, or to upload your own. 

One of the most exciting developments that has come from this outstanding documentary is the Miss Representation curriculum now available in the U.S and Canada for:
  • K-12 schools
  • Universities/Colleges
  • Libraries
According to the website, "The curriculum asks girls and boys alike to think about the effects of the images they see - particularly the ways media affects women and girls' ability to see themselves as leaders and be seen as leaders by others in society." The fact that this curriculum exists is incredibly exciting to me. Children are the future. By starting this critical conversation with them now, dramatic change is truly possible. If you are a teacher or administrator, please consider purchasing the curriculum. Considering the important and influential role you play in in the lives of children, imagine the impact you could make!

Okay, end of spiel. Watch the movie. Get inspired. Get involved. The true voices of women deserve to heard.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Sunday Morning Ponderables

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you they belong not to you.


You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bow from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrow may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.


- Kahlil Gibran (excerpt from The Prophet)

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Motivation for the Days I'm Feeling Sloth-Like

Dear Alison,

Hey girl, you've been doing really well with the working out these days! I'd like to give you a little pat on the back for that, but I'd also like to remind you that this is pretty typical behavior for you in January and February. Without fail, the new year brings you a sense of hope and enthusiasm, like you can take on the world! But, over the course of the year, this hope and enthusiasm waxes and wanes, gains momentum, then grinds to a halt, over and over and over. Can we try and stop this cycle? Can we try to be a little more consistent this year? After all, you're certainly not getting any younger.

Now, I've never been a fan of the popular practice of beating oneself up in order to inspire "good" behavior. Making yourself feel like a turd will never bring about positive change, of that I am convinced. With that in mind, I'd like to take a moment to focus on the positives of being active (rather than focusing on the negatives of not).

So. Like I've said, you've been working out. Have you noticed something? That feeling in your body as you move throughout your day? What is that? I'll tell you what that is. It's your muscles. You notice them more now, don't you? No, I don't mean in the mirror. I mean when you move. You notice the muscles in your arms, in your legs, your abdominals, your bum. You feel them stretch and contract and just generally move in appropriate ways to better support those 33-year-old bones of yours. You pull in your stomach, knowing that doing so will support your back. You straighten your posture. You walk with confidence. This confidence, by the way, does not come from knowing you have a perfect body. You don't. (And besides, what does that even mean?) Sure, sometimes you feel "hot", sometimes you feel sexy and desirable, but those things are simply icing on the cake. The best part? You feel strong. Limber. Balanced. Capable. In a nutshell, you feel healthy. In an even smaller nutshell, you just feel good. Happy.

Keep this in mind on the days you just want to sit on your bum, stuffing Oreos into your pie-hole, telling yourself you deserve a day of rest. Of course you deserve a day of rest! But it certainly doesn't have to involve Oreos or sitting on the couch all day. Go for a leisurely walk. Kick off your shoes, head to the backyard, and just do some stretching in the grass, the sun on your face. Wrestle with your children. Jump on a trampoline. Dance.

Just don't be a sloth. It may feel good in the short term. But, in the long run, it only serves to make you feel weak, and achy, and old. You're only 33. You don't need to feel that way. Remember: strong, limber, balanced, and capable. THAT'S how you want to feel.

* * *

I know, I know, you have nothing against sloths. In fact, you quite like the furry little guys. (Although, probably not as much as Kristen Bell.) The slow pace they maintain in life has a beauty all its own, and is perfectly suited to their species. However, you are not a sloth. You are a human, and the human body was made to move. When we cease to do so, our bodies fall to disrepair far sooner than their time.

So, what are you waiting for? Get moving!

Sincerely,
Alison

I have a feeling he feels quite capable.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

December & January, Instagram Style

twinkle twinkle

decorating the tree

new led lights create disco xmas

tuckered out

found this scribble in a pile of evan's school work

lunch at johnny rockets

mall carousel #1

mall carousel #2

crazy little munchkins

too cool for cavities

visiting daddy at work #1

visiting daddy at work #2

new bathrobe

book + beer + sunshine + solitude = happy me

rubber face runs in the family

blood drink

train museum

evan/mommy date: lunch at burr's

evan/mommy date: painting pottery

photo by evan

self-portrait by evan

me & my bff

playdate cookie baking

i think it's pretty sexy when he builds stuff

heaven help me, my 5 year old is a hipster

dr. teeth from the electric mayhem

fell asleep on my shoulder at a restaurant

we found you, nori!

photo by evan

mid-day nap at cafe capricho

animaaaaaal!


hard at work #1

hard at work #2

me & my little ray of sunshine

funny face

rosy rosie

eyes

elinor #1

painting pictures on the work bench daddy built

kitchen fairy #1

kitchen fairy #2

fuzzy snuggles

sunny, enjoying the sunshine

elinor #2

super evan

shadows