Are Two Hearts Better than One?

This morning’s email included a message from my favorite hardware store about an upcoming BOGO (buy one, get one) sale. If it had begun yesterday, before I dropped $150 there, yesterday, I’d be happier. Two-for-the-price-of-one is attractive, except when you only need one of something, or when two of anything might be bad for you.

Most human beings are social animals. We live in families, clans, tribes, towns, cities and nations. Even in mountainous or rural areas where people live scattered we seek connections. The legend of Daniel Boone, who was said to have always pushed further into mountains to a place where he could not see the smoke of anyone else’s chimney, was invented by later “biographers.” Even Daniel wanted his family to have companionship.

A common natural outcome of “two hearts” is reproduction. Two become three, four or more. Same-sex couples adopt or resort to surrogacy to create families. Tinder and Grindr, though primarily about the desire for sex partners, also testify to an almost innate need for companionship, for “hearts”.

Genesis is not the only place where people of religion go for support of the idea that it is not good to be alone. A woman in Taiwan whom I once knew was being pushed to marry by her elder sister’s husband For some reason this man had assumed the role of “Male head of the clan.” He had no religion beyond cultural tradition, by which he objected to his sister-in-law’s breaking an engagement to an unsuitable man because she had to “marry for the sake of being married.”

In Chicago’s Union Station, where Metra and Amtrak trains arrive and depart, there’s a recorded security announcement that is heard several times each hour. An authoritative female voice from the station’s police invites all travelers to “add your eyes and ears to those of our own.” Another set of eyes looking out for security is a welcome thing. Another mind working on a project may sometimes be helpful. Another heart to accompany an alone one through life is “better than one.”

Does that heart have to be a mate or a life partner? Do all people need mates or partners? Hermits seem not to, but cenobites (hermit-like monks in Buddhism and Christianity) are not unknown. And whether these whose lives are dedicated to something beyond themselves are actually alone or not is open to question. We all seem to need something, if not someone. BOGO is not just “Buy one, get one”, but “Be one, grow one.” Maybe, though, “live and let live” might be kinder.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Gotta Get That Feelin’

Depending on where current life finds us, “gettin that feelin’” may mean going forward, sideways or back.

Going forward to “get that feelin’” sounds like youth. In elementary school, look forward to the privileges of being in the 5th grade, then are told to be “be examples of good behavior” to the little kids. We graduate to our first year in middle school, “little kids” once again. Not so easily deceived by “be an example” rhetoric in the 8th grade, we revel in the feeling of being on the top just before we fall to the bottom in high school then in college, and again in entry level jobs upon graduation. Whatever “that feelin’” appeared to be from below, it never really arrives.

Reincarnation is a religious belief. Who am I to say it’s not our eventual lot? In life we go through cycle after cycle of hoping for that feeling as we discover that goal posts move. The joy professional life doesn’t live up to its hype. Vacation cruises deliver less than is promised. Parenting and grandparenting are more work than we can ever imagine.   

Going sideways is often an option In the gig economy. A job evaporates so we move to something similar elsewhere. It’s not about feeling but about earning. Where I reside now the economy is so good that people can move from job to job or employer to employer just for the feeling. It isn’t always that way. Now, better paying factory jobs mean that food and customer service positions jobs are filled by people with less experience than in the past. Manufacturing workers get a better feeling, retail customers…, not so much.

Going sideways for the feeling of it is manifest also happens regarding life partners. “Until death do us part” becomes “for so long as it feels good.”  For 28 years (1989 to 2017) America’s presidents were “married only once to the same person” types. Since 2017 the man behind the desk in the oval office has been a “gig marriage” guy. Marriages fall apart for many reasons. Sometimes their “temporality” is a blessing to those who are released when they end. Vows, like “Until death do us part”, are, at best, something to refer back to when feelings wane. Vows, though, are not shackles.

The third option to “get that feeling” is to go back.  As with reincarnation, who am I to say that it doesn’t work? Some people who retire after 20 or 30 years in the Army go back to where they came from. They may heave a sigh of relief to be home again then discover that the Army has changed them and time has changed home. Folks who left small towns and family ties for higher and professional education go back to work and rear their children near extended family. A recent city profile in The New Yorker about the Northwest Iowa district of congressman Steve King noted and commended this phenomenon.

Life as it is lived often finds us stuck. The feeling isn’t what we want. Long term fixes are unavailable, or too costly.  We need more Bruce Springsteen concerts. Thank God, (and thank the Boss), for Youtube, where we can watch them on demand.

 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Down to the River

Crossing a bridge over a creek on a recent walk, we realized once again how comforting the sound of running water is. For much of winter that creek had been frozen, and even as things began to thaw out, we only saw it running from inside the car. It was still too cold to be on foot that far from home. But now the thaw is over and the world is green again.

Going “down to the river” is a powerful image throughout the pre-histories and histories of many civilizations, nations and cultures. Civilizations began along rivers in India, China, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Congo, Senegal, South and North America. Many religions around the world have “go down to the river” moments.If not to rivers, then at least to water. Clean water is a vital piece of Islamic worship and prayer. Hinduism includes washings and cremations by rivers. Judaism involves sacred bathing in a Mikvah. Christianity uses water, even water “down by the river” for baptisms. Nigeria’s Osun River is connected to Oshun, the Yoruba goddess of water and love. The Whanganui River in Aotearoa has long been sacred to the Māori. They view it as a living, breathing ancestor.  

As a child in the suburbs of Los Angeles, I saw ocean more frequently than naturally flowing rivers or streams. Near where I went to college I found what at first seemed to me to be freely running water. I used to drive the few miles up from a dorm on the valley floor to sit and absorb that spot’s peace. Then one day I ventured higher into the hills and discovered a dam, which had been there for decades, where the stream’s flow was turned on and off with a simple switch. That brought no peace.

My standards have changed. Maybe they’re lower. It’s not so important to me any more that the water be “free flowing” or controlled. The sound of it is what speaks to my soul. Now I go down to the river for the peace of it, a joy that I shall not deny to myself.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Never Question the Truth of what you Fail to Understand…

Measuring the truth of things by the standard of our own understanding is a fool’s errand. When invited to attend an event on the 10th floor of a tall building, few among us though not understanding how an elevator operates, will opt for the stairs. Most elevators have cables and counterweights, but some operate by large hydraulic or pneumatic rams that push the car upwards from a secure base. When on the ground floor and wanting to go up to the tenth, we generally push a button and board when the doors open. We don’t require ourselves to understand.

Young learners confronted with a lesson that they’re having trouble understanding the lesson may opine that grammar itself, or algebra itself, or whatever they’re don’t understand, “makes no sense.” People of all ages confronted with styles of art or music that they don’t like have asserted that these things are substandard because they are untrue or worthless or senseless. Admittedly, a 4-year-old’s fingerpainting will not, and likely should not, hang at the Chicago Institute of Art. But no doubt there are many people who believe that some of the things by Jackson Pollock hanging there are of little or no value. This might be especially so when they learn how much Pollock’s work fetches at auction..

A little exposure to or education in grammar, algebra, poetry, music or art; may not lead toward liking things, but could orient a person towards  understanding. Realizing the limits of understanding may help us be more accepting of others’ attempts to find truths of their own. A baby-boomer generation father of teenagers was once moved to say to his kids, “If I ever criticize the nature or quality of any popular music that you choose to like, just say back to me, ‘Freddy and the Dreamers’, and I’ll shut up.” Any boomers who recall having listened to and liked Freddy will know what that means.

The phrase, “Never question the truth of what you fail to understand,” completed with the words, “for the world is filled with wonders.” Indeed, it is. Far more wonders than any of us will ever be able to understand.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Love Hurts

 

Experience teaches us, sooner or later, that some things don’t make the leaps of logic that we would like. If, for example, we believe that God is eternal, and then that God is love, it doesn’t necessarily mean that “love is eternal”, does it?  Anyone who has fallen into, and then out of love knows that. Ideally, marriages begin and continue in love. All too often, and all too tragically, something happens to that love and it ends, taking the marriage down with it. Also all too often and all too tragically, there are marriages that continue lovelessly.

Frederick Buechner is the author of many books, many of which are autobiographical reflections. In The Sacred Journey (1982) he mentioned an occasion of being a six-year-old wanting to show his grandmother how much he loved her. The gift that he unwisely chose received a response that hurt him. About 50 years later, reflecting on that incident in print, he wrote “The people you love have two sides to them. One is the side they love you back with and the other is side that, even when they do not mean to, they can sting you with like a wasp.”*

It’s that “even when they do not mean to…” part that is the hardest to take. When he was six years old, Buechner truly and with all his heart loved his grandmother. He also knew that his grandmother loved him. She said the words that hurt him, there’s no doubt about that. But those words’ meaning was not that love had ended or had never existed to start with. His grandma, like many of us, responded to a situation spontaneously, not choosing her words, but saying what came to mind at the moment.

When we’re stung by words from someone whom we assumed loved, or at least accepted, us, we need grace to see people whose love has at least two sides, one of which may be totally invisible to them. And when, in turn, we are informed that our own use of language has resulted in someone being hurt when we intended something entirely different, like being clever or witty or unwittingly prideful, we need humility to lovingly apologize for carelessness or clumsiness of speech. We should not defend the indefensible, but lovingly admit that we need forgiveness and another (or several more) chances to love without the wasp sting.

*Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey, (1982) p. 32.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan

Face the Music

It’s unclear where the expression “Face the Music” originated. One source dates it to 1850, supposing it came from musical theaters where the orchestra was seated between audience and stage. Performers turning to listeners would “face the music”. Another theory begins an American Civil War ceremony to expel an officer from military service to the accompaniment of drums. Whatever its origins, the expression has come to mean being confronted with the unpleasant consequences of one’s actions.*

There are many non-musical situations that lead us to “face the music.” Binge watching TV series instead of preparing for exams, habitual overeating, neglecting means of VD protection or birth control, under-insuring, skipping scheduled maintenance, etc.; it only takes a little thought to make a long list. The music we face usually comes from someone in authority over us: a spouse, employer, doctor, officer of the law or judge. And the music may not be at all pleasant. Sometimes the music comes from someone who doesn’t outrank us: a peer, a child, a member of the audience, or a repair-person.

Florence Foster Jenkins performed at Carnegie Hall in October, 1944. She strode out on stage in front of an audience of friends and admirers to offer a program of classical song. But she couldn’t sing. In fact, she is considered to have been one of the worst singers of all time. Her wealth and connections had enabled her to give concerts at many rented around New York City. As terrible as she was, she became popular. Eventually she rented Carnegie Hall, hired an orchestra, and mounted a concert. Did she know how “bad” she was?  Apparently not. She enjoyed performing. Whether or not they enjoyed the music, her audiences enjoyed the events. Facing the music, from both sides of the orchestra pit, seems to have been welcomed.

If and when your time to “face the music” comes, may you do so with the same equanimity as Mrs. Jenkins and her hearers. May you come through, and move on to good things.

*https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Face%20the%20music

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Play It As It Lays

I don’t play golf, but I do read newspaper comic pages and the drawings in The New Yorker. Cartoonists often resort to “golf motifs” even when the character is a viking, like Hagar the Horrible, or a soldier, like General Halftrack in Beetle Bailey. Charlie Brown doesn’t golf, but Dagwood does. Many golf metaphors get applied to life totally apart from any connection to the game. Retirement is sometimes called “the back nine” of life. A difficult task can be described as a “dogleg”or a “sand trap”, and a difficult time as “playing in the rough.”  

The place where a ball stops rolling after being driven from the tee is “where it lays”. If the golfer doesn’t like that location, there are certain ways to legally move it to a better “lay”, but they involve penalties on the score. If one is not willing to accept the penalty, one must “play it as it lays.” It’s not hard to imagine how, or why, this expression has migrated from the well-manicured golf course to the rough and tumble of life.

Golf progresses from a numbered tee to a pin with the same number. Life isn’t anywhere near so well ordered. Any golf analogy breaks down when we consider how in life we are engaged in several different endeavors at the same time. We might be doing the laundry, cooking a meal and carrying on a phone conversation simultaneously. We don’t stop driving the car when we turn on the radio to listen to the news. Jogging and exercising in the gym are often accompanied by listening to podcasts on headphones. Though our tasks are intertwined, each likely has its own sequence, it’s own “places where the ball stops”, its own “lays.”

“Coping” is not just a finishing or protective course or cap to an exterior masonry wall. It is an attitude and a skill that can enable a person to face life and “play it as it lays.”  Some who have desired to work in exotic foreign places have discovered no aptitude for foreign languages. Some who have wanted to live in particular locations all their lives have been met by economic changes that remove job opportunities there. War may turns people into refugees around the world. Sexual assaults forestall people from ever again venturing into a school, church, parking structure or fraternity party. Injuries end careers of athletes, sometimes before those careers begin.

Back to the golf analogy, we “tee up” and “drive” regularly. The ball stops someplace. Then it’s our choice, to “improve the lay” or to “play it as it lays.”   Being willing to ask for and receive help requires a bit of humility (which can be seen as a penalty). Playing it as it lays just out of stubbornness or unwillingness to ask for help is its own penalty. But, playing it as it lays does mean continuing to play, continuing on the course, heading toward the goal. Perhaps more important than whether or not we accept where the ball has come to rest, or get help to figure out how to keep moving, is that we don’t give up on ourselves, or each other.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

You Know It’s True

Epistemology is “a branch of philosophy that investigates the origin, nature, methods, and limits of human knowledge.” It’s about how we come to and what it means to “know”. There are eight ways of knowing: Language, Sense perception, Emotion, Reason, Imagination, Faith, Intuition, and Memory.*   

Philosophers have argued about the very nature of knowledge for thousands of years. Most of us care little about what it means to know. We “know what we know, and trust that it’s true.” Information sources often control what we believe we “know”. After the US elections in November of 2016  I became painfully aware that the word “silo” doesn’t only mean a crop storage structure or the home of a nuclear missile. I sadly came to understand how I had chosen to live in one.

A former fundamentalist, I often trusted words written on paper (particularly “Bible paper”) and denigrated imagination and faith as ways of knowing. As a person of faith, generally liking divine “revelation,” I’m still rather skeptical about “divine protection of transmission.” As a translator, I’m REALLY skeptical about translations, especially my own!

A child of the enlightenment, I over-rely on reason, downplaying emotion and intuition. Growing older, I trust my memory and sense perceptions less.The joke about Charles Manson in prison asking “Am I crazy or is it hot in here?” seems very cogent.

I love language. Grammar and etymology (the study of word origins) thrill me. Years ago a friend’s habitual reference to “spider webs” as “cobwebs” forced to look up the term. When I learned that “cobbe” is Dutch for “spider,” I joyfully assimilated the word into my working vocabulary.

But clever use of language can divert us from knowing. Robert Moses, the power broker who controlled much of New York City and State during the mid-20th century, was known as “The best bill drafter in Albany.” He read old laws and used their provisions to craft new ones that would obfuscate his true intent. He once inserted an obscure provision of a 19th century agricultural statute into a law about roads he wanted to build in the 20th. It allowed him to legally take (for the state) large tracts of land on Long Island for non-agricultural purposes. People didn’t know what hit them.

Lately what matters more to me than any of the 8 “ways of knowing” is the experience of kindness. I can’t know if it’s true kindness or not, but I know what I’ve experienced. Maybe kindness is enough.

* https://www.lanternaeducation.com/ib-blog/theory-of-knowledge-ib-guide-part-4/

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Radio Nowhere

Is there anybody alive out there?

A lot of us choose to send annual holiday greetings, for Kwaanza, Hannukah, Christmas or the New Year. There are also welcome friends and relatives who send birthday and anniversary cards. Such people are precious. That includes those who send year-end letters detailing their travels and the accomplishments of children and grandchildren.  But if, as SENDERS we keep track of how many we receive in return for (or in advance of) what we send, we may begin to wonder if there were anybody alive out there. And if as RECEIVERS of cards, letters and e-mails we keep track of the things to which we respond, we might question if we’ve given the impression of already having shuffled off of this mortal coil. I’m more likely to respond to a greeting that comes with a stamp on it than to an e-mail. I’m less likely to respond to an annual catch-up letter, whether it has come electronically or by post, than to a card. Often I don’t respond at all.  Am I alive IN HERE?

Sending something out, casting it “broadly” (“broadcasting” it) is like that. There may be many in a classroom but few listeners. We count the heads at a lecture or at church but have no idea if anyone has paid attention.  One of the most fruitless jobs in the world must be giving the pre-flight safety briefing on an airliner. Frequent flyers ignore it doing other things, fearful flyers don’t believe it because the reality of imminent death has seized their souls, and others merely wait it out while fantasizing about sex.  “Radio Nowhere” asks, from the center aisle, if there’s anybody alive out there.

Most of us inhabit the “out there.” Whether it is as listeners to radio, patrons of libraries, attenders of lectures, or passengers of trains & planes. By lending a modicum of attention to the broadcasters who are “in there”, we testify to our being alive.

 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Long Walk Home

Robert Frost’s 1914 poem, “The Death of the Hired Man” is built around the story of a farmer and his wife discussing an unreliable employee who has come to them at the nadir of his life. The farmer wants nothing to do with the man, whom he felt had betrayed him at a time of need. The farmer’s wife admits all of that, but finds meaning in the man’s coming to them because he has nowhere else to go. Though there are relatives not far away, it is with the farmer and his wife that he has found “home”. As the wife describes it,

‘Home is the place where, when you have to go there,

They have to take you in.’

There’s much in life that takes us far from home. A lot of it is good and pleasant stuff: wider opportunities; better climates; military, government or church service; wanderlust. Some things are maybe neither good nor pleasant: exile, banishment, disaster, war, poverty, oppression and the like. A woman I once knew arrived in California in the early 1940s, not because of the wider opportunities and better climate, but because she was sent there as a pregnant single teenager to shield her and her family from the opprobrium of her rural home community as the child inside her grew. She stayed in California, visiting “home” only occasionally, until her death more than 70 years later. You can imagine that the first time back involved a metaphorical long walk home.

Long walks home are often part of “going back”. For some people “home” no longer exists. Cultural and social change may have removed the “home” from the place. Sometimes entire countries disappear. Nobody, for instance, can go back to Yugoslavia or the Soviet Union any more. For others, the “long walk home” may be mean going forward. “Home” has never existed for them in the places, families or communities of their origin, but is only to be found in the discovery of a true identity. For some, “coming home” may involve “coming out.” It may call for a name change, a gender change, or both!

Finding a place, a condition, a vocation, an environment, a community, even a family, that is home, usually involves a long walk in one direction or another. Pray for strength.

 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.