Sometimes it seems that Philosophy spends much of its time passing the blame for bad ideas to Religion.

Take Natural Philosophy, for example. If you read the world view of Jewish works such as Enoch or The Apocalypse of Adam, you get a vision of worlds without number, filled with life. Then Greek philosophy comes along and it is all science and logic and the Earth as the stationary center of the universe, the only place where life is to be found -- a far cry from the vision that makes a man ask "What is man, that thou art mindful of him?"

Fast forward, science changes its mind (though it still believes that all orbits have to be perfect circles) and it blames Religion for the false perspective.

Or consider how philosophy dealt with men and women. The great discussion about love lost my attention when Plato and the boys started explaining how women were so inadequate that they weren't capable of really being loved, men had to reserve that for each other as higher beings. Compare that to Eve as a "help meet" or a "companion equal" to Adam and Proverbs 30:10 that illustrates the ideal women as one who is in business for herself, taking her own counsel as she buys and sells and sets others to work. A wave of kings, a wave of scientific philosophy, and suddenly the Norse women who were full equals become chattel to chattel and women all throughout the western world are reduced in status.

A few, like Brigham Young (who kept preaching sermons pointing out that women made as good of lawyers, doctors, politicians, accountants and business types as men), pushed for equality and the franchise. But the enlightened Federal government took it away and scientific men rejected women as lawyers or other professionals. Move forward a hundred years and suddenly Philosophy has reversed course -- and blamed Religion for what went on.

It should surprise very few that almost every time in history that Religion has given way to Philosophy or Science that the passage of time results in the position being rejected and Religion taking the blame for it. Which gives me pause.

But I remember: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female; for ye are all one in Christ Jesus". (Galatians 3:28) and "And he inviteth them all to come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; and he remembereth the heathen; and all are alike unto God." (2 Nephi 26:33).

May we all remember that, regardless of what science or society or philosophy would tell us.

The Relief Society was asked what lessons they wanted the most. The number one request was for my wife to teach a class on how to make rolls. The class was held tonight and had record turnout, much to my wife's surprise. As Win told me "Steve, those rolls are good, but that good?" Well, after years of having them at various activities, I guess everyone thought they were "that good."

Here is the recipie:

Pretzel Shaped Yeast Rolls

Demonstration by Win Marsh

2 tablespoons yeast )

2 cups warm water ) Stir together

1 can evaporated milk )

1 can warm water ) Stir in

½ cup sugar )

2 tablespoons salt )

½ cup oil )

1 egg ) Stir in

Stir or beat in 4 cups of flour. Beat it smooth. Keep gradually adding flour until dough starts to come away from the sides of the bowl. Total flour will be about 8-9 cups. The dough will still be very sticky.

Dump it on a flour covered counter. Start kneading until it feels good, but is still a VERY SOFT dough. Expect to knead in 1-2 cups of flour.

Put the dough in a large greased bowl. Plastic is better than metal. Turn the dough over so that all sides of the dough are greased. Cover the bowl with plastic or cloth and put it in a warm place.

When it is raised, punch it down and split it into 4 parts. Cut each part into 12 pieces. Roll each out on a lightly floured board in to a long piece and tie it like a pretzel. Tuck the ends underneath and place on a slightly greased cookie sheet.

Put a glaze on each roll: Beat together 1 whole egg and ¼ cup of milk. Paint the top of each roll and sprinkle with sesame seeds.

Wait until the rolls puff up .. about 30 minutes or less. Bake at 350 F for 20 minutes.

Baste them with melted butter while still hot from the oven.

Modify for Cinnamon Rolls

Pat or roll out dough, spread soft butter then sprinkle with sugar, cinnamon and a light dusting of nutmeg. Add nuts and raisins. Roll dough up and cut in one inch pieces. Put 12 on a greased cookie sheet. Let them rise for 30 minutes. Bake them longer than the rolls. Quickly frost with a white frosting. One recipe makes 24 large rolls or 12 huge cinnamon rolls.

Resentment is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die.

Anon

Trust in God is, in part, acknowledging that not trusting God does not create any change. Acceptance of life means to live life, and trust in God is a part of accepting life.

Another Anon

It is not where we will be next week, but what we become now. To "take no thought for the morrow" means to be alive now, accepting life and the present.

One more Anon

Thinking about those things I realized that resentment anchors us in the past with our pain, and a lack of trust holds us away from the future, in fear. By finding trust and acceptance we are able to live. Not that giving up resentment is easy, or that trusting is painless, but they both make life worth living.

Myths attempt to explain why the world is imperfect and what we should do about the problems we face because of an imperfect world. An interesting part of some faiths is the doctrine that the world is not imperfect any more than an obstacle course or a golf course is imperfect.

My own beliefs include some explanations of some things that everyone can observe and that many find painful:

(a) The almost universal condition of women being subordinate to men is not a celestial pattern but is a direct result of the world being imperfect, which means that we do not emulate it, but seek to escape it.

(b) Women need only listen or hearken to men to the extent that they know that the men are following God. Men may end up in charge because the world is imperfect, but women are not obligated to just follow them around, (but instead should follow God and only listen to men when the men are listening to God as well). We all escape the consequences of imperfection by working together as partners.

(c) In the heavens, things are binary, as it says: "in the image of God created God humanity, meaning male and female." That is, God is not alone in the heavens and that women have as much divinity in them as men -- when Eve was created it was as a "help meet" or a "companion equal" to Adam.

I find it interesting how some people naturally find that message and how others do not. There are similar messages all around us, some enlighten us, some we miss. Some times we miss because we lack the right metaphor or language, sometimes because we are blinded by experience, some times it is because life is overwhelming.

But it is life, an experience for us rather than an end.

Her attempt to castrate him was the hidden issue in their divorce. It was a second marriage for her, a first for him. As a white haired, older diabetic, he had impotence issues. As a woman whose only other experience with a man was a twenty-something in the prime of life, she took that problem as a personal affront. She could see and accept no other exploration and refused to do anything that could lead her to any other conclusion that he had to be made to pay and had to be rejected in turn.

So it is with many people and God. They lose a spouse, a job, a child and decide there is no explanation for what has happened other than that God is unworthy and must be rejected. Sometimes the issue is obvious, such as a parent who has buried too many loving children, sometimes hidden, like a man's anger at God after losing twenty pounds did not reduce his triglyceride levels.

I finally found out about the secret when we were at the end of the property division. The knife was old and battered and obviously her separate property. He would not give it up. I and the other lawyer wasted hundreds of dollars of time before I finally offered to buy a better knife for him if he would turn it over -- and then he told me the truth.

I saw the two of them together, six months later, happy, remarried, embarrassed to see me, but wanting to tell me too. She had finally found the truth, complaining to other friends who were her age, and realized that he loved her, that the physical realities they had to deal with were not a reason to leave her husband or her church, and that there was more to life than the bitterness she had embraced.

Everyone experiences the harshness of life at some point, in ways that are either real or imagined. Sometimes the hurt we feel can not be avoid, either because our perspectives are too blind or the pain is too great. Sometimes when we cry out to God, if we cry out to God, the only response is that the feelings and pain we share with him are true, and do not offend, and that the Holy One knows we are suffering and does not condemn us.

It is what comes next. Do we let those feelings blind us, do we hold to them until they drive us to harm others or ourselves, or do we decide to find reality, beyond our human perspective.

In mediation, in law, in my profession, over and over again I deal with people who have locked themselves into false perspectives. Like someone who has fallen into a hole in the dark, they have a moment of disorientation and hurt, but they have stayed in the hole and made things worse when they could just walk out if they only would.

On this blog I am really writing only for other parents who have buried children. Especially at this time of the year, following the anniversaries of December 26 and January 26, when Courtney died and when Jessica died, with Robin's death date to come, the feelings are with me.

I know that the feelings are intense, that the experience seems to offer only one lesson -- that God is false or unworthy -- and that so many find it a terrible time, especially in a culture that in a very neo-Calvanistic way sees any tragedy or loss as proof of failure and God's disfavor (we have not come very far from Job's friends and they way they treated Job until God reproved them).

But over, and over and over again I meet people, I have experiences and I feel the greater truth. In this life, nothing is perfect and all die. The gospel makes us more aware of how unfair life is, not less. As Paul noted, without the resurrection, our knowledge would make us "of all men, most miserable." But there is more, and there is a peace that people find, if they don't hold on to the mistaken perspectives they find. In the end, nothing can separate us from the love of God but ourselves. As it says: "For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" - Romans 8:38-39.

I, too, have been persuaded that if we do not refuse to heed, Christ stands at the door and knocks, and nothing other than our own will can separate us from the love of God. May each of you find that peace.

In memory of Jessica Christine Marsh; February 12, 1986 to January 26, 1993. She was almost seven and I miss her today as much as ever.

I should note that I read a lot of posts today on other blogs from people writing about how life is unpleasant and even God cries. But it is life, and there is so much good as well, which can take us home again. May you each find your way in peace and grace.

We celebrated our twenty-first wedding anniversary by going to Hot Springs, Arkansas. A co-worker of my wife goes to the Arlington every year and just loves it.

The town was charming, the land is beautiful, the history (including Al Capone, Mae West and others) was entrancing and the historic baths were really fun. First time I've done that sort of thing, I'm going to have to do it again.

Best of all was the time Win and I were able to spend together.

As a general rule I would suggest a different week-end. We didn't know it, but this is the week-end that the race track (dating back to 1890) opened. Luckily, Hotels.com found us great rooms at a great price (though not at the Arlington). We got a discount from them and an additional discount from AARP. Who knew turning fifty would get me a discount at hotels?

Had some wonderful meals, though Win and I ended up splitting a lot of meals and leaving food behind -- servings just keep growing. Much to my surprise I lost another half pound over the week-end. With the rain, we came home a day early and I just finished a great morning making breakfast for the kids and walking my yougest to school.

I still have today off, and I plan to spend it with Win.

I'm so glad to have had her in my life the last twenty-one years. May anyone reading this share the best of life with someone they love.

In the middle of chaos I turned fifty. Instead of a birthday party, I attended a work function for my wife, wedged between emergencies. The Church Christmas party and program had blown up, mostly because the person who was doing the program broke her back in a rollover accident. While she didn't have a choice between the two, now that she is recovering she has commented that all-in-all it wasn't such a bad alternative. You know the drill.

But, as I look forward to this year, it is almost as if I had turned thirty-six again. My weight is almost to where it was then, I have a six year-old in the house again, the weight training I started three years ago actually has me stronger than I was hoping to get then, and I'm back to being my natively cheerful self, feeling real emotions. I'm thinking about writing projects, probably the same ones (more or less) than I was then, including a book on mediation and a book on negotiation.

I've even quit snoring.

It is almost as if my life has started over. Given the number of long lived people in my family, I've probably hit the mid point and am starting over in a lot of ways. It is tempting to treat this entire year as a birthday celebration -- but I'll skip the cake. After all, I'm enjoying having lost weight.

I'll write another post when I get back in town, but we are soon to be off to celebrate our wedding anniversary. As always, a compromise date, so not everything is starting over, but everything does have hope and joy once again.

One thing that surprises me about life is just how happy I am. As Rachel has gone through the stages of getting older and reprised her sisters a bit, bringing to mind a certain baby, a certain almost two year old, and a certain child who almost turned seven, I have had to re-encounter a great deal of emotion. In addition to the Christmas season and going through it with a six year old one more time, I've started Seth Roger's diet. Weight loss aside, food no longer serves to insulate me from emotion. I feel emotion much more strongly.

The funny thing, so to speak, about it all is that the dominant emotion that I feel, day in and day out, is happiness. It makes sense. Before everything, my native state was being happy. Now, I really enjoy my job (my secretary has finally adjusted to the fact that I respond to new files with cheerfulness, as if I'd been given a present -- we are in house and she is used to attorneys groaning when they get difficult work). There is a nice blend of repetition and variety in what I do -- and I win a lot.

A co-worker once referred to my family and I as "the Stepford bunch" -- because with the sickness and the other problems we still like each other, and it is still a joy to walk Rachel to school, talk with Heather and just be with Win.

Sometimes things catch me by surprise. Burying three children will do that to you, even now. But just as often they are good things, like just how steadily positive life has been. Sure, life has annoyances (we just had some kids out on a lark drive down the street bashing in windows and they got Heather's car), but they just don't seem worth getting riled up about (our insurance had a guy out to replace the windows first thing Monday and Heather's Volvo is as good as new again, or will be once she gets it waxed and polished).

I hope that anyone visiting my blog finds joy in life as well.

A friend of mine, AnneGB, really has a lot to say.

This guest post is by her, and it says things that I think are important for each of us in the new year.

Post, by annegb


I've made a big deal out of the fact that I am an alcoholic and also attend Al-Anon, an organization for people who have friends or relatives who are addicts/alcoholics. It's a character defect, I think, because it makes me different, ie special, in this traditional LDS Utah town where I live. And I live to stick out, for some cruel quirk of fate.

There is another reason, also, though. It doesn't bother me to admit I'm an alcoholic, I'm not embarrassed, and I want to empower others in my position to get help, to abandon the shame. So I am not all ego.

However, the purpose of this post is not my hubris or iconoclastic tendencies. I have learned something from my inconsistent attendance at AA and Al-Anon meetings. I have grown from applying those principles.

I want to share here a couple of things I have learned which have blessed my life. One is not more important than the other, but one is my main point.

First, I have never heard anything in a meeting, (which is similar to a blogging "meeting" where the "chair" will introduce a topic, share on that topic and open it for discussion) either from the chair or those who choose to share, that is not in harmony with the restored gospel. Never. I have never read anything in all the literature, and it is considerable, and I've read, and re-read most of it, that is not in harmoy with the restored gospel.

I listen carefully to the conference talks and am delighted when I hear speakers talk in a way that is in harmony with Al-Anon principles, like turning our will over to God. I assume these men are not members of AA, so I also then conclude that this is a principle from God.

Which brings me to my main point today. Turning our will and lives over to the power of God. This is the third step of AA, Al-Anon, every 12-step group: "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the CARE (note that important )of God, as we understand Him."

How a person does that, the process, is different in each person. No one tells us exactly how to do it, it's predicated on working the first and second steps, which I will not dwell on today.

It is basically an inner process. Some people do it more formally, a formal prayer or written process, then continue to follow up daily, or at least regularly, with a re-commitment to turn it over. These are the lucky ones.

Some do it less formally, but still consistently. Some, like me, do it great for a week, then forget there is a God, get defeated and come crawling back once in awhile.

It is work, that daily turning over of my will to God. I have to get down on my knees (this is my own condition, I do not believe it is necessary to always have formal prayer, indeed, I think it takes many forms), and say the words "God, I give this day to you. This is what I want/need to do today. But if you have other plans, I surrender. I will act as if I am going to do these things, but if other things come up, I will assume they are from you and I will RE-act accordingly."

Then I tell Him about my needs or responsibilities for that day. I pray for my family. I used to ask Him for specific things for them, like "let Jared stop drinking" or "let Sarah not get in a wreck" or "let" something. "Let" seems to be a word I've adopted.

But now, more often, I ask Him to guide my words and actions. I ask Him to help me respond in a way to my children and loved ones that will bless their lives and ask that His will be done in their lives. I've structured my prayers differently. Less control issues, more surrender.

Now, again, I say, for me, this is work. A long prayer for me is about twenty minutes. A normal prayer is about five minutes. But then, I talk fast, as you could imagine. The attitude I approach my morning prayer is the same attitude I approach cleaning my oven.

"Oh crap, it has to be done. I will watch the news first. Maybe a glass of juice. Oh, yuck it is so dirty. Maybe tomorrow."

Same with praying. I think about it. I don't jump out of bed and get on my knees. I talk myself into it.

However, and this is the punch line. It works every time. That doesn't mean my days go perfectly or I do everything I want to do, or I am nice all day. It just works. That's the only way I can say it. I work. Things work out well on those days I turn over to the Lord. Things get accomplished in an almost miraculous way.

So that at night, my prayers are just "thank you for the help today." My night prayers are almost always very short prayers of gratitude.

After all that hemming and hawing and putting off, taking that 5-20 minutes to turn things over to God makes the rest of the day flow. I might even take a couple of hours to decide to do it. To pray and turn it over. Then the real miracle happens.

I don't do it every day. I don't even do it every week. I am a work in progress and very much flawed and lazy.

My New Year's resolution this year is to pray every morning. I urge you, as well, to try some type of regular "turning it over" as opposed to whatever you might think a well-behaved latter day saint should do. There is great power in giving control, will, and power to our God. It is a quiet and wonderful thing, though, and it is a slow, daily process, not a big "blessing-of-you."

I hope this has made sense and in my awkward way. I fought this concept for many years because I didn't trust God to do the right thing, which would be whatever I thought should happen. I had to struggle with and learn that only God's will can ultimately bring peace to our lives.

God bless us, every one this year.

Mohawk philosophy lessons

In Memorium, Courtney Kathleen Marsh, February 16, 1992 to December 26, 1993. She was our baby.

Had a friend.
He married his high school sweetheart.
The year he turned 38, his first child started college, the second high school.
"Feels so empty" he said
"You'll understand."

I married later,
To someone I wish I'd known from childhood.
The year I turned 38, buried two children, lost another from miscarriage.
Feels so empty
I understand.

---

I wrote that, obviously, before we had the rest of the miscarriages and had buried Robin. I think I'll go listen to Felicia whose music is sadly out of print.

But I remember her this day, in joy and in sorrow, always a part of my life, always with a place in my heart.

---

The hundred dollar Christmas -- how someone did all of Christmas for under a hundred dollars and had joy in the holiday.

My daughter Jessica had a problem with compassion. She just didn't have it. So, once a month, we would buy, cook and serve dinner at the homeless shelter in Wichita Falls -- a meal for about seventy people. The service and experience touched her and taught her the compassion we weren't able to convey by just hoping and talking. Doing was what she needed.

At this time of year I think of her. Especially as I read about all the people who go out to homeless shelters once a year (on either Thanksgiving or Christmas), listen to cynics ask "don't the homeless need to eat during the rest of the year?" and miss her, I think of her.

Our hearts couldn't take returning to the shelter without her after she died, though our congregation took over. Thinking about the experience again, I remembered the importance of finding things to do with children -- and with adults -- to teach them when other methods fail. Sometimes talking is just not enough, though many things we do communicate better if we explain or label them.

We continue to do things with our children, and to explain the things we are doing, but my heart still remembers, especially this time of year. It is, after all, a season of hope and of the heart.

---

I was visiting at Wolf Angel again. I always have liked the blog's name. For some reason I can't get the comments to display. I've been thinking and reflecting a great deal. I'll post as I have concrete things to say, but there is more to say on many things, including more on the difference between spiritual, religious and social issues.

The differences are often important in churches from a conflict resolution viewpoint and in health care from a patient and family care perspective.

May this season nourish you in all areas, and may the differences in it give you joy and delight.

Stephen

Come, Thou fount of every blessing,
      tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
      call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
      sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
      mount of Thy redeeming love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
      here by Thy great help I've come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
      safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
      wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
      interposed His precious blood.

Oh to grace how great a debtor,
      daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
      bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
      prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, Oh take and seal it,
      seal it for Thy courts above.

John Wyeth

This time of year has so many emotions for me, both good and difficult.

This week I had to leave work to get Rachel from school with flu-like symptoms. Both Courtney and Jessica's final illnesses started that way, so that sort of thing has an emotional resonance. The call about my five-year-old brought all those memories to the top. By the time I got to her school, she had recovered and they had sent her back to class. She bounces back so quickly that it is surprising (I was only fifteen minutes away, especially at that time of day when traffic is light).

Of course she had been in the nurse's office longer, they hadn't been able to reach her mother or her sister. In their minds, of course a dad is called last, which when I'm in court or teaching a class is probably the way my wife thinks it ought to be. I no longer have the emotional load I once had, but the ghosts of memory are still bitter sweet.

A friend's son had a kid who had lived in the Wichita Falls area in one of his college classes. He told his mom that he told her that he knew someone who had lived in Wichita Falls and she told him she had been one of Jessica's friends at Church. In the middle of his mom telling the story, it seemed to suddenly hit home to her that Jessica was real.

Perspective is a funny thing, the way it comes upon us.

The means by which we live our lives are the ends that our lives serve. We may hear the old saying "the ends justify the means" but the reality is that the means become the ends that our lives are about. Even more for those who believe that there is a God and that we are passing through this life for many reasons, including judgment, the ends that we seek are the means by which we seek them.

That a life will be spent in the pursuit of means that make life better off not having been lived is the great peril faced by those who feel that the end justifies the means; they lose track of the reality that the means we use are the ends we are seeking, no matter what we may tell ourselves.

Understanding that the means we use are the ends we are seeking is the key to recognition and will. If you've read what I've written about acceptance and forgiveness you will recognize that both acceptance and forgiveness requires, at some point, a recognition sufficient that it causes a change.

Without a change in the manner of action, we have not forgiven ourselves, we have not found freedom, we have not accepted. It is the change that recognition creates that becomes the end that our life serves, which means that the way we act and the means that we use when we act remain the true ends that we seek.

There is a reason that peacemakers are blessed, and are called the children of God.

---

Yes, I mean that whether or not we support or suborn torture, that whether or not we are kind to those who we judge not to deserve it, that whether we overcome despair or are swallowed by it whole, especially in this season, in some part rests on recognition, will, acceptance and forgiveness.

I mean all of those things, because I mean that a key lesson in life is learning that our means are our ends.

For some interesting links, intended to create thought, not provide answers, death penalty discussion and more on the topic, trolls (who need to learn this lesson), ethesis, perseverance and torture.

And, as always, ozarque, a living saint.

May your means and ends be peaceful in this season.

The diet is working. I'm amazed at how differently I think and feel about
food.

The sixteen pounds I've lost in about thirty days are a nice side effect,
but what has been very interesting are the mental changes.

For more information, see:

• Calorie Lab
  
  
  • A long discussion with a lot of comments following afterwards.
    

• Taste Celibacy
  
  
  • The blog of "Seth's friend Tim" (Timothy Beneke) who lost 100 pounds.
    
  
  
• Blogjack
  
  
  
  • One man's four posts on the diet. After he lost weight he went to brute force methods (lots of exercise).
    
  
  
• Annie's Diet Blog (with specific details and advice).
  
  
  
  • Tidbits
    
  • Current comments by real people using the diet
    
  • "How to"
  • Archived comments from 2005
    

[Update: I lost sixteen pounds the first thirty days, then ten pounds the second thirty, and four-five pounds the third thirty days. I'm now losing about a pound a week, which fits with the total calories that I'm eating. I no longer feel like I'm on a diet, what I eat is just the food I eat normally and I'm happy with it. I'm also in an OA group, which has really helped me deal with the emotions that eating was submerging. It got me through the holidays and the memories of my three dead children.]

BTW: Seth's book at Amazon.com.

In the rising of the sun and its going down,
We remember them.

In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,
We will remember them.

In the opening buds and in the rebirth of spring,
We remember them.

In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer,
We remember them.

In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
We remember them.

In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
We will remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength,
We will remember them.

When we are lost and are sick of heart,
We remember them.

When we have Joys we yearn to share,
We remember them.

So long as we live, they too shall live,
For they are now a part of us,
As we remember them.

Traditional Jewish Prayerbook remembrance, Candle Lighting Ceremony for Journey of Hope.

In memorium

Jessica Christine Marsh, February 12, 1986 to January 26, 1993
Courtney Kathleen Marsh, February 16, 1992 to December 26, 1993
Robin Elizabeth Marsh, July 6, 1997 to August 31, 1997

I remember them.

Linguistics; propaganda; "Dad, I need 80 bucks...."

I don't know what you think of that "Dad, I need 80 bucks.." Ameritrade commercial running on CNN and the other news channels right now; I know what I think of it. It turns my stomach.

When the teenage girl tells her Dad she needs 80 bucks for a pair of jeans that she has to have because everybody has them, Dad asks her who the designer is, runs to his laptop and orders 100 shares of the designer's stock, and turns over the 80 bucks -- which, needless to say, he has right there in his pocket.

Not even one of the dialogues below takes place [and should be what really happens].

(1)
TEEN: "Dad, I need 80 bucks."
DAD: "You don't need 80 bucks. You want 80 bucks."

(2)
TEEN: "There's these jeans....."
DAD: "And you have to have them."
TEEN: "Yes."
DAD: "You don't have to have them, you want to have them."

(3)
DAD: "Do your friends have them?"
TEEN: "Everybody has them!"
DAD: "Then shame on their parents."

(4)
DAD: "Like you don't have enough jeans."
TEEN: "So, can I have the 80 bucks?"
DAD: "Absolutely not. All the kids in this world that don't even have clean water to drink, and you want 80-dollar designer jeans? No way. Go wash your mouth out with soap."

Quoting Ozarque.

Do you ever worry that your kids will grow up spoiled? I fear it.

BTW, for a good charity (when you are looking for something to remind yourself of why you are grateful):

Donations for the Pine Ridge problem would go to the Link Center Foundation, P.O. Box 2253, Longmont, CO 80502-2253, with the check or money order marked "Elders Heating Fund."

I can't vouch for the charity personally. The information comes from a Native American source. There's a website for the Link Center at http://www.LinkCenterFoundation.com.

Direct Link to the project.

____________________________________________

BTW, I do have a teenage daughter and when I talked with my wife about this commercial it was more on the line of but gosh, that is a funny thing to see on TV.

A lot of it is relative. My current boss used to work in men's clothes. He just can't bring himself to pay retail for clothing. I've lost a fair amount of weight, but I buy my non-work clothes from Wrangler ($15.00 a pair for pants) and my dress pants from Lands End. But, I know that sometimes, if you want fit and appropriate clothing that is going to last, you can end up paying money. Might be $20.00 for a dress at Nordstrom's Rack, might be ten times that (or more). I know that things I think of as essential are someone else's luxury.

I've read Shantaram and my parents served most of one of their missions in Tanzania. But, the issue, of how not to spoil your children, is significant to me.

We used to share our chapel with a ward that had pro sports players (active and retired) in it and others at a similar income level. People that buy the $200.00 jeans and think of the $80.00 ones as the cheap ones. Some of the people were great, but some walked out on their turn to do the dishes at girls' camp. I don't want my children to be like that, especially now that we are better off than we were.

Anyway, just thinking on the topic of kids wanting things, "needing" things, and being a parent. My teenager is preternatural. It is the five-year old (almost six) who worries me, who always asks for things. I worry about raising her.

I realized I had robbed so much by looking to criticize in everything ... That is the way I guy in my men’s group began before he did a reading:

Acceptance is the answer to my problems.

I can not find serenity until I accept that persons, places, things or situations that are unacceptable to me are as they should be at this moment.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake. Until I accept my weaknesses, I can not overcome them. Until I accept life completely, on life’s own terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed int eh world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.

The more I focus on defects, the more they grow and multiply.

The courage to change is the courage I need from God to change myself, to learn to accept and to focus on what is good to watch it grow and multiply.

Active acceptance is th key to my relationship with God today. I never just sit and do nothing while waiting for Him to tell me what to do. Rather, I do whatever is in front of me to be done, and I leave the results up to God. However it turns out, it is His will for me.

I found it striking, as I did his discussion and what I learned from it.

Acceptance goes hand in hand with forgiving yourself of the pain that you have sufferred. We forgive others in order to be forgiven, by ourselves as well as by God, in order to accept His love for us and the hope that is in Him.

Especially in this season, may you find acceptance.

Holiday seasons are always hard times with grief. Mother's Day can be too much to bear for some, but most enter what is almost a tangible valley for the time from Thanksgiving to Christmas.

One of the keys to surviving such periods is forgiveness. Forgiving yourself and your spouse. It is hard because emotions drive one deeper into being hard and because every event brings with it the echoes of every prior event. History compounds itself into a terrible weight.

But, forgiveness also offers more. It is a way past recrimination and the past. It is a tool to avoid the crushing pain of the present. Forgiveness is a guide to the future we wish to create in the light of what is best in the past.

Combined with the Jewish version of the Golden Rule ("Be Kind"), forgiveness is the star of hope in every season. We draw close to what we can become with each other in a marriage and others who are dear to us in our grief by finding kindness and forgiveness in each step of the day. It has helped me survive the losses of the past and I think that forgiveness and kindness is much of what has made my present something I am grateful for and my life with my family such a source of joy.

May the world be kind with you this season, and may you find forgiveness as you need it, both in giving and receiving, with others and with yourself.

We are not recommending this diet. On the face if it, if you had to cook up the ultimate stereotype of a wacky fad diet for use in a comedic novel or film, the Shangri-La Diet would fill the bill.

Basically, you don't eat anything (other than flavorless water) from 8:30 to 10:00 a.m. and then you have either a quarter cup of sugar in a liter of water or a half tablespoon or so of extra light olive oil (without the water). Then nothing with any flavor until 12:00 noon when you eat lunch. Repeat at 2:00 to 2:30 p.m. in the afternoon and listen to what your body tells you.

Often done in connection with a twelve step program.

The batscience is interesting, but batscience at present. On the other hand, for some people it really works.

At this time of year, I need to express gratitude for the love of my life, my wife, and for my children who have given me reason to live.

There is a great working poem on prayer at the blog of my favorite saint, Ozarque.

At Must Love Books, there is a great metaphor.

I've been meaning to write about the negotiation class I taught recently. It reminded me of how grateful I am for many things.

I'm curious what others are grateful for.

The Church exists to help its members, the members do not exist for the Church. That seems so simple. The Church is not the way, but it is the guide and support on our way, and the key to it. Much like the Sabbath day became for some, I worry that some people have replaced the goal with the tool. That is why Christ had to point out that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. The same is true of the Church.

We have Church, like the Sabbath, as a gift from God, not a prison or a taskmaster.

Though, thinking of the Sabbath I remember looking at graduate school materials and reading how Harvard's MBA students were encouraged to take a "sabbath" of sorts, half a day off on Sunday to relax from their labors.

We need surcease and respite, desperately some times. It is so very important that we find it, as a part of survival.

We had a lesson on service today and got into a discussion of some people and things they had done. A friend paused, then said "that reminds me of my wife." I thought, that reminds me of my wife too. We both smiled.

Service is very important, and that is a feeling my wife shares, and one that makes me so very happy to be married to her.

When couples lose a child, they usually divorce. Last number I saw was over 90%. The experience is just so destructive, everything falls apart.

To survive it helps to keep moving forward. A good friend told me that, before Jessica died, that you had to remember those who were still living and decide if you were going to lose them as well as the one who died. If not, you had to keep moving forward.

For many, moving forward means not only staying in motion, but finding goals, "to do" lists. At times "to do" lists slowly evolve into "to fix" lists which can become "things to be unhappy about" lists.

Gordon B. Hinckley, spoke about that recently, reminding people to be grateful for each other rather than to spend their time finding fault and reasons to change each other.

It is an important lesson, especially for those who are overwhelmed by grief. By being grateful for each other they can strengthen each other when they need it the most rather than adding to each other's burdens and pain.

We can be grateful for each other, and reflect on the reasons for that gratitude, like Dave and I did about our wives this day.

My wife pointed out that in our community, pet dolls have replaced baby dolls as the toy for kids who want something to nurture, much as pets have replaced children for many. It is probably a significant moment of some sort, and appears to be more than just a local trend.

I'm curious if anyone lives in an area where that change was not complete this year -- there are baby dolls, but the prime promotional space goes to the pet dolls instead of the baby dolls as you walk in the store.

Comments and feedback welcome.

One of my co-workers remarked that in every marriage there are terrible problems that are caused by silly things, and that all marriages have to survive those to flourish.

I realized that in my own life, the terrible, real, things had somewhat overshadowed the other problems. The long string of deaths and attempted recovery and death and attempt and death ... that all blended in together to usurp many of the normal problems.

After all, I was a typical undomesticated man, married for the first and only time at age 29. My wife was a marvelous creature from another planet (or so it seemed to me in so many ways).

A friend of mine blogged about her own life, where she truly felt like someone from another planet.

Ah, youth..... and culture shock
My brief life as an extraterrestrial, part 1
part 2
part 3
The husband question.....

In any situation of severe trauma, change or grief there are things to live through, times where we find ourselves strangers in a land that seems familiar. One of the most common experiences for those who have lost a child is to feel alone, strange and no longer a part of the culture of their birth, divided by the experience, dealing with people who can not understand, in spite of good will (or the lack of same).

I think that Suzette's experiences provide some perspective, a different way to look at things, a way to understand that somehow helps to fit and hold and sound and see through the fog. I would note that while she doesn't mention it in these posts, she has also buried a child and a husband.

Not much else to say, except I love my wife all the more now.

I was asked to judge a negotiation round again this year and enjoyed it. It is interesting to watch people who have not been changed by practicing law, but the best part is the discussion that occurs after the self-assessment -- watching the students as they suddenly "get it."

While I was there I was asked to guest lecture in a class and to address a dispute resolution group and saw a large number of old friends and students. It is rewarding to see people I've taught in successful careers.

I have always found it valuable to teach people across levels. From post-graduates with multiple degrees to business clients to junior college students and even kids (meaning five and six year olds) I've always enjoyed teaching, and learning from those I am teaching. I'm looking forward to both the junior college class and the professional association. I will learn from both.

Irrational Ideas -- #1 -- just think of this next time you see an irrational essay or person.

The 12 Irrational Ideas -- the original essay about Albert Ellis that prompted #1.

BLieter points out:

DSM-IV-TR says the most useful way to distinguish the personality disorders for differential diagnosis is this:

Histrionics are coquettish
Antisocials are callous
Borderlines are needy
Schizotypals and paranoids are socially withdrawn
Narcissists are grandiose
Oh, both Narcissists and Obsessive-Compulsives are perfectionists, but only narcissists believe themselves to be perfect

Useful for considering the various types of problems some clients can cause and how to deal with them.

Funny, the week my Mom suggested this is what she was going to do, a web site shows up to help you calculate the numbers.

Anyway, some random posts, ones that might help someone learn something.

Interesting non-LDS essay on abortion

One more.

Sometimes you can't decide if it is good news or bad news. On the one hand, the diagnosis of Heather's condition appears to have been wrong. From a condition defined by symptoms and with a known progression and resolution, but with a still undetermined causative agent, she has gone to "nope, not that" -- but getting better quicker.

I think she learned a good deal from the experience of being a 10% or so, and appreciates the recovery. She has always been empathic, but being so sick she couldn't even shoot, had to drop some classes and realized that she might miss graduation from all the days she missed from school, I think that taught her something.

Luckily I was ahead at work before this all started, but it gave me some rough days too.

My wife always thinks of me as minimizing the bad or the chance that something will go bad. I don't, really, but I always tend to downplay the seriousness of things from both ends. I've noticed that most people tend to inflate a little, and that means that until people get to know me, and just assume that I'm inflating a little, much of what I say gets a double discount, once from me, once from the listeners. I'm still learning to overcome that, something I was taught as a kid (and was a good lesson then).

I'll say I'm relieved at how my oldest is recovering, and you can all understand that I'm understating how I feel. I'll leave it at that.

There are three types of true stories. Unfair, fair, and irrelevant.

Unfair stories always cost someone who does not deserve. Take a friend of my daughter's who met her current boyfriend years ago, when other boys put a chair against a door and began to beat him up. The girl stood up and intervened, screaming and shaming and otherwise making them back down. No wonder my daughter loves her friend, and the story is neat, but it hurts the poor guy all over again, so they've all resolved not to tell the story about him.

Irrelevant stories are great stories, but they don't do anything for whatever dialog is involved. Like my poor neighbor forgetting to put her husband's car in park and having it roll across the alley and hit our garage door. The story can be charming and funny (when I called to explain why I was going to be late to work my secretary laughed so hard I had to explain it all over again to the office manager who was walking by). But there isn't any point to the story.

Then their are stories that are fair and fit in with the theme. Given that Saturday I attended a meeting, helped on an elder's quorum move, attended a temple wedding, a trunk or treat my wife and I were in charge of and a ring ceremony (as well as a few other things) it was a busy day. But, the wedding was of a kid I had in primary.

When we first met, I was sent out in the hall with him since he was a boy and I was a guy, and they felt he needed discipline. I didn't see it, he just needed a moment to collect himself, so I told him to stay calm and pretend that I had punished him and that should do it. Everything was secret until he told his parents (luckily, they approved).

He was a great kid then, and he has been a great kid since. This last year a lot of things have worked out for him and it was so good to see him in the Temple, along with a number of other people I hold dear. Almost as if I was seeing my own kids.

That story is fair to everyone involved and is the happiest kind of truth as well.

I used to work out about five o'clock every morning with Ashley Gothro. From Ashley Gothro's favorite artist (Stan Rogers):

And you to whom adversity has dealt the final blow
With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
Turn to and put out all your strength of arm and heart
and brain
And like the Mary Ellen Carter rise again

Rise again, Rise again
Though your heart it be broken and life about to end
No matter what you've lost;
Be it a home, a love, a friend
Like the Mary Ellen Carter rise again!

Too often we forget that we can rise again.

Advice from Folk Singers and his lyrics.

And of course everyone knows what a middle-aged moralist of my type warns his juniors against. He warns them against the World, the Flesh, and the Devil. But one of this trio will be enough to deal with today. The Devil, I shall leave strictly alone. The association between him and me in the public mind has already gone quite as deep as I wish: in some quarters it has already reached the level of confusion, if not of identification. I begin to realize the truth of the old proverb that he who sups with that formidable host needs a long spoon. As for the Flesh, you must be very abnormal young people if you do not know quite as much about it as I do. But on the World I think I have something to say.

Which is:

Snobbery is not the same thing as pride of class. Pride of class may not please us but we must at least grant that it reflects a social function. A man who exhibited class pride – in the day when it was possible to do so – may have been puffed up about what he was, but this ultimately depended on what he did. Thus, aristocratic pride was based ultimately on the ability to fight and administer. No pride is without fault, but pride of class may be thought of as today we think of pride of profession, toward which we are likely to be lenient.

Snobbery is pride in status without pride in function. And it is an uneasy pride of status. It always asks, “Do I belong – do I really belong? And does he belong? And if I am observed talking to him, will it make me seem to belong or not to belong?” It is the peculiar vice not of aristocratic societies which have their own appropriate vices, but of bourgeois democratic societies. . . .

The characteristic work of the novel is to record the illusion that snobbery generates and to try to penetrate to the truth which, as the novel assumes, lies hidden beneath all the false appearances. Money, snobbery, the ideal of status, these become in themselves the objects of fantasy, the support of the fantasies of love, freedom, charm, power, as in Madame Bovary, whose heroine is the sister, at a three-centuries remove, of Don Quixote. The greatness of Great Expectations begins in its title: modern society bases itself on great expectations which, if ever they are realized, are found to exist by reason of a sordid, hidden reality.

From Lionel Trilling’s 1947 essay “Manners, Morals, and the Novel.”

My thanks to http://mthollywood.blogspot.com/

and to Tolstoy, for his writing which inspired C. S. Lewis to warn:

The lust for the esoteric, the longing to be inside, take many forms which are not easily recognizable as Ambition. We hope, no doubt, for tangible profits from every Inner Ring we penetrate: power, money, liberty to break rules, avoidance of routine duties, evasion of discipline. But all these would not satisfy us if we did not get in addition the delicious sense of secret intimacy. It is no doubt a great convenience to know that we need fear no official reprimands from our official senior because he is old Percy, a fellow-member of our ring. But we don't value the intimacy only for the sake of convenience; quite equally we value the convenience as a proof of the intimacy.

My main purpose in this address is simply to convince you that this desire is one of the great permanent mainsprings of human action. It is one of the factors which go to make up the world as we know it-this whole pell-mell of struggle, competition, confusion, graft, disappointment, and advertisement, and if it is one of the permanent mainsprings then you may be quite sure of this. Unless you take measures to prevent it, this desire is going to be one of the chief motives of your life, from the first day on which you enter your profession until the day when you are too old to care.

The entire essay is at http://www.limbicnutrition.com/blog/archives/025484.html

I was looking over my teaching evaluations from when I taught at SMU. The first class I taught, my so-called "normed" evaluations (think of figure skating or gymnastics -- subtract the high and the low score and average the rest) came to 8.3 on a scale of 1-9. The second class came back at 8.6. The best part about the second class's evaluations is that the raw scores were 57% nines and there were no evaluations below an eight. As a result, my overall average was about 8.5.

The key was that I made adjustments. Even with only two weeks to prepare and an accelerated schedule (I was teaching six classroom hours a week on the second class) -- and even billing 42+ hours a week as an attorney at the same time -- I was able to teach health care dispute resolution to a class including hospital administrators, Ph.D., MDs, JDs, health care consultants and graduate social workers. Viewed against a program faculty that averaged 3.5 on evaluations (a topic that came up at the last faculty meeting I attended before the program retrenched), I can look back and still be pleased.

The class outline is here: http://adrr.com/smu/health/index.htm

One thing that evaluations drove home to me, and that was highlighted in discussions about evaluations with other people teaching in the program, is that if you listen to feedback and adjust, you will get better. If you don't listen, but discount it as wrong or misunderstood, you will not improve. There is always a reason for the way people react to you, and usually it is something within your control (at least to change). The big thing for me was the number of people who felt my organization was only "ok" (well, 7 out of 9) in the first class. That class was tightly organized, but I obviously did not communicate the organization. I let the structure display itself a little more in the second class and was rewarded by the class responding.

The important lesson that reminded me to learn again was that when there is a problem, even if only a relative one, the right response is to ask yourself what solution will work rather than fighting with the message. Learn from the message, don't fight with it.

Next post I might talk about http://www.adrr.com/adr4/ppp.htm and related matters, but I need to spend some more time learning right now.

I was talking with a friend of mine, Nyle Smith, about life and the things it does to you. Nyle has survived a number of strokes. He was on the faculty at Lewis & Clark Law School before the strokes derailed his life. Nyle is now disabled, but still wise. I try to drop by to see him when I'm in Portland visiting family and we talk from time to time. I'm hoping that some day he will be able to blog.

One thing that I realized while talking with him is that I've always had good things to say about places where I've worked. He suggested that much of why I find good is that I do my best to make places better.

That came up as we discussed last firm. Before I came on board, it used to have more than 100% turnover (mostly staff and associates). Yet, for the almost four years I was there, turnover was down to about 10%. Talking to one of my ex-partners after I left, I discovered that turnover was at 100% or so the year after I left.

Nyle suggested that perhaps my job history of dramatically slowed turnover in each job I've had was not just my good luck in being in the right place at the right time my entire life, but perhaps something I was bringing to the table as well. He snorted at me and suggested I take credit for making a difference.

What he had to say reminded me of my first secretary at my employment when I brought another summary judgment back in and I passed it off as just more good luck. She snorted at me and suggested that luck might have made the difference once or twice, but after five or six I ought to consider that part of it might be me. I thought of her when I talked to Nyle and he said the same thing.

Nyle gave me some good perspective, which he always does. I appreciate his faith and endurance and good example. Not to mention, what he had to say was a good remember to give myself credit and to remind others to do the same -- to give themselves credit.

After all, much of life in recovering from grief is owning life and giving yourself credit, accepting joy and sharing it. Owning life and accepting the good things in it is a lesson to be learned and shared over and over again, and yesterday was a good reminder.

Thanks Nyle.

One thing I really admired about Roark, besides his choice of wife, was the grace, love and kindness he showed his mother.

Too often families fail to follow God's advice to honor the relationship. I was glad to see that he did.

Too often grief and loss only feeds the divisions we feel rather than causing us to heal them. That is why so many couples divorce when a child dies, instead of surviving together.

picture

I've probably blogged more than enough about Roark. I'll respect his privacy to the rest. Much like I do with my co-workers (I like them, I like my job, I've had a great year, but nothing there fits within the scope of why I am posting) or my ward (other than the fact that everyone in our congregation likes our bishop -- which is a little unusual -- there isn't much to say about going to Church that is different for us than anyone else) there is little that fits within the scope of grief, loss and recovery that touches any of those parts of my life.

Picture of me at maintenance

Not the best, part of a bunch of photos we took of my daughter having fun with a large shipping box.

But, it is how I look on maintenance.

I've aged the date so I can import the picture to share, without it clogging up my blog.

I'll smile next time (I usually do, I was just, you know).

Roark and Katelynn had a wonderful marriage in Soquel, California. I've always had a fond spot in my heart for Roark (he's one of my nephews). He and Katelynn have been together since they were thirteen, he's now in grad school at MIT, and, as his brother Ben pointed out, it was time. And a wonderful time it was.

Win got called in to do a liver transplant tonight, so as I sit here just back from vacation, thinking about weddings and I how I love her, she is at work and not here. Speaking of Win, I've now gotten to see her brain (via watching a cat scan in real time) and it is as pretty as the rest of her. She was pretty bad off, but it was just food poisoning, potassium driven down below three, and an inner ear infection, all coming together. Gave us all a scare, but the ER folks were kind, though they sent me an orderly the size of Rachel. Luckily Win doesn't weigh that much, so I picked her up and put her in the wheel chair to take her in. She was clamped up and unable to walk at that point.

But, this visit to California was a good one, though we are all glad to be back in Texas and to have our house back from the Wichita Falls refugee who stayed in it last week.

Too much to write about.

But who we marry says a lot about us, and who Roark married says good things about him.

Though California is a funny place. Met a Seminary teacher out there who defined a student who really "got it" as one who decided against going on a mission and became completely secular. They have different goals and ideas out there.

Guess two more notes.

In Africa, some of the wards had the sisters blessing and passing the sacrament (the men tend to delegate anything that looks like work). It was pointed out to them that the sacrament is a priesthood responsibility. Next visit, the women handled the sacrament again. When the visiting authority asked, the bishop assured him that it was ok this time, they had ordained all the sisters to the Aaronic priesthood. Nothing was done at the time, I don't know if anything has happened since. Interesting that ordination to the priesthood was treated as a step down in status, rather than a step up for the sisters.

In one of the temples there was an effort to have the position of sealer restricted to only those who had been stake presidents. The only comment that was made was that perhaps the position should be restricted to only those who have served missions.

So many ways to look at things, so little time.

I am off to a wedding in California. If you need me, call the house, once again we have people staying here for a bit. I should be blogging again by October 15th or so.

For the newsletter I do, visit mediation newsletters.

Everyone has my best wishes.

I have a guest post at Millennial Star: What do Prophets Teach Us.

I hope people like it.

I've seen a number of very hostile e-mails about the refugees. But I've also met people who dealt with refugees in person.

The true story is that close to 100% of the refugees are kind and grateful. Over and over and over again that is the story I'm getting from people who have actually met a refugee or engaged in service or staffed a shelter or a clinic or done something else.

The sad thing is how the media fueled the disgust many Americans feel towards people who do not deserve it.

Do you know how many murders there were in the Superbowl?

None.

Not one. Not a single one.

How many gunshot wounds?

One. Bless his heart, a National Guardsman shot himself by mistake after all the refugees were out and they were doing a sweep to collect all the dead bodies.

If the media coverage had not been so hateful the evacution of the Superbowl would have taken place a day earlier, but the Guard delayed a day in order to have sufficient force to handle the anticipated violent crowd.

"I've got a report of 200 bodies in the Dome," Beron recalls the doctor saying.

The real total was six, Beron said.

...

"I think 99 percent of it is bulls---," said Sgt. 1st Class Jason Lachney, who played a key role in security and humanitarian work inside the Dome. "Don't get me wrong, bad things happened, but I didn't see any killing and raping and cutting of throats or anything. ... Ninety-nine percent of the people in the Dome were very well-behaved."

...

"These people - our people - did nothing wrong," said Sherry Watters of the state Department of Social Services, who was working with the medical unit at the Dome and noted the crowd's mounting frustration. "No human should have to live like that for even a minute."

By Brian Thevenot
and Gordon Russell
Staff writers

Thought I should say something to add to what those writers said.

The truth needs to be repeated sometimes.

For those worried because I'm in Texas (I just got two calls tonight), Dallas is five hours (without any traffic slowdowns) from Galveston (we used to go every year for the 4th of July) and four hours from the North edge of Houston. Usually we don't even see rain from this sort of weather, though we are hoping.

And, the local wards are all making lists of places available for refugees to sleep and spend a night or two before they go back home.

I may not be ok, but if not, it has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with spending too long looking out a window at Jessica's favorite place to go in Fort Worth. That was a long day yesterday.

I've submitted a guest post over at Nine Moons. I'll be interested to see if they decide to use it or not.

While waiting, 100 best movie quotes can get you off and running and thinking. 100 best quotes, things like "I can tell you would rather die than pay tithing" and the like. Yes, I especially like metaquotes which are quotes as we have inherited them, not as they were spoken.

An interesting discussion on oil and the future at Ozarque's the on-line presence of the author of The Gentle Art of Verbal Self Defense.

Blogs used to be "web logs" -- logs of places people had been on the web. The number one blog at the ecosystem still is that type of log. In the Bloggernacle, what we have is computer generated web logs -- but no human ones.

Too bad, but it is a sign that we, like most others, have expanded past the original roots.

Recently the EAC list that my wife participates in had a discussion about a foster home for autistic kids that kept the kids in brightly colored crates at night. Win's comment was:

We had considered changing a crib to an upside down position for our children. They all started climbing out of their cribs at about 8 to 10 months of age. They could walk, they could climb, they could get into all kinds of trouble. But they were young enough not to be able to understand any sort of direction.

Courtney used to like to climb up our closet organizer and leave one shoe on the top shelf -- just 8 inched from the ceiling. It was her way of letting me know that she had been up there.

She used to leave crayon marks on the playroom ceiling. I never could figure out how those got up there.

Jessica liked to get herself up onto the toilet, use the toilet paper holder as a foot hold and use it to boost herself over into the sink. Then she could play with the faucets. She was 8 to 9 months old. She also figured out how to open up the frig and search for the container of whipping cream.

We did try a net over the top of one child's crib. It appeared to be more of a health hazard than any sort of prevention so it didn't last more than a day. I do like the big screen idea Russ mentioned.. It would be like a huge terrarium.

About the article, it all depends on the children and their particular issues. Autistic children can lay in bed and bang their heads into the wall or the side boards for hours. They can get head injuries. ...

Just thinking about our girls and bright colors. Hope the other children are ok, but I miss our girls.

bye
qiihoskeh
2005-09-12 04:48 )
Suzette,
"defriending"
nothing personal,
I just can't stand all the greedy predatory (additional adjectives omitted) wrong wing "Republicans" and "Libertarians", may they and the Devil they worship suffer endless torment (details also omitted) for at least a billon eons -- they deserve worse. My sincere desire is to remove them permanently from the gene pool. I know you're dedicated to non-violence and can't agree.

Personally, I prefer to hear both sides of the story. I'm not interested in joining Pol Pot or those on the other end of the spectrum. I'm not interested in the free market anarchy of Albania.

I often find those I really disagree with can teach me something, from Brian Leiter to others.

I don't believe, as qiihoskeh appears to believe, that Republicans or Democrats or Marxists or Libertarians are headed to hell or worship the Devil, I've met too many good people of all kinds.

Not that a great deal of harm is not done, sometimes, by people of good intent, but without an interplay, without appreciating that many have good intent, we can not reach them and our violence only serves to transform us into the demons we think we face.

I admire true pacifists such as Dr. Suzette Haden Elgin or the Anti-Nephi-Lehites. I belive that Christ told the truth when he said "Blessed are the Peacemakers."

And, I believe with all my heart that I do not have all the answers, but that I know some of the right questions, and that by listening, I can learn more.

Just something light and happy for today. We had some friends over for dinner, and after dinner, when it was time for dessert, I asked our five year old to bring the ice cream from the refrigerator to me.

She opened the door, looked in and said "mm, mmm, mm. my day has come." I'd never heard her use that phrase before and she was just so delighted. It was a great moment (especially, since when I asked her about it she said "well daddy, I meant my moment had come, not my day had come."

It was like a beam of light breaking out of the sky to watch her be so happy, for us and our guests.

Labor Day weekend was great. Alison came down with Frank and her kids and spent the night and then Monday the Prince family came over. All we needed was the Greens to make it perfect (or at least a perfect Wichita Falls reunion).

"Real" mental illness is, in many ways, worse than grief, at least as far as I can tell. With grief, even overwhelming grief you've got severe disability for a few years (usually 1-3) and then modest disability for a few more (3-5) and then lingering pain and memories that people come to terms with (no, they never "get over it," but they do reach terms with themselves and God).

But mental illness, the real kind (and I'm using "Real" above to emphasize that it is real rather than as "scare quotes" to diminish it) continues without benchmarks and often without clear resolutions.

Sure, you can do some things. You can get aerobic exercise, if nothing else, sneaking off to a local university or school track and running for forty or fifty minutes a day. You can regulate your sleep and engage in cognitive therapy.

But the medication is usually not perfect (they all have side effects), your body changes as you age (so what worked last year, may need to be adjusted next year) and the very problem you are trying to deal with robs you of the ability to deal with it.

Grief is rough, and it can break coping mechanisms (usually, each child that dies breaks a method of coping, lose two or three and you can be a mess), but physiologically based mental illness can rob you of all your coping mechanisms.

On the other hand, especially in the modern world and in the United States, there is real hope of a kind that the world never had before.

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Someone noticed that I posted about the baby Dallas matter (there is more than one) and other things *after* they were in the local newspaper and the only details I had were the reflections on my own life.

Well, my wife worked those nights, but she doesn't talk. So I post about the things I know. Sorry I don't have details.

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If you have some free energy, drop by The Celibate Blog or Pie Polar Bear and leave them a kind word and say a prayer for them.

In times of great disasters people always want to know what they can do. The answer is simple: you can find a person and help them. One person at a time you can help people.

Peace and grace attend you.

Another baby born tonight, her one year old sibling was floated out of New Orleans in a bucket.

Poor mother was in pre-term labor, brought on by too much stress, too many days and nights in the Superbowl. Her story reminded us all of the flood on Featherstone when Win left as the water reached three foot deep, with Jessica and a bucket, and came to my office (on the 5th floor) to wait it out.

We named our next child Heather, but so many here are naming their children "Dallas."

We've a flood of them coming in from New Orleans, except we greet them with much more love and kindness, a flood of new life instead of a flood of death.

With all their suffering, only compassion has any answers.

Usually this blog deals with issues of grief, death and faith. I am working on another blog to discuss other issues at other -- but that isn't up and running yet and I wanted to post.

In the work world, there are a number of messages you can send and a number you are sent. Books that purport to tell you how to be successful at work are legion (with exactly what that means). They are of the following kinds (regardless of what they claim to be on their title):

1) Books that tell you how to send the message that you are a useful worker bee (the kind of people businesses need to run, after all).
2) Books that send you messages about how to be happy as a worker bee.
3) Books that peddle myths, for the purpose of getting your money, that are useless or dangerous.
4) Books that give you skills or elements to improve your knowledge base and that will help you make progress (books like Dress for Success or The Gentle Art of Verbal Self Defense at Work.

Crooked Timber and Cheese links to a discussion or two on the topic, especially New York Times Article and White Collar Invisibility (which has the useful warning All those career coaches and employment workshops are the white-collar equivalent of the predatory creditors in poor neighborhoods. The author's books are flawed, very flawed, but interestng too. Much of John Bruce's Journey is about a guy who is a worker bee but who gives off the wrong message over and over again.

Most people do not understand class. America is rife with class issues and getting a job involves:

a) communicating that you are a worker bee of the appropriate class for the job.
b) communicating that you are not a threat.

Employers want to hire you (well, they really, really want to hire someone to get work done that needs to be done). They really want to keep you in the job they hire you for too (sometimes blocking promotions because a manager is a manager while a good worker bee is hard to find in some areas -- though in others, good managers are essential).

Many times those who have lost children also lose their jobs. The incapacity of grief leads to other issues and that leads to job loss. Suddenly you are looking for a job, not at your best, but at your all time worst. Most of the books out there are useless to you or harmful.

But, there is a free library near you (with interlibrary loan, probably for free as well), and as long as you take it only a step or two at a time, you can work your way back from anything. The key is continuous, steady work going after reasonable incremental steps.

There is always a way forward. The Man Who Planted Trees (note: Giono ran into difficulties with the American editors who in 1953 asked him to write a few pages about an unforgettable character. Apparently the publishers required a story about an actual unforgettable character, while Giono chose to write some pages about that character which to him would be most unforgettable. The real story of a real man who created a forest is at true story, real forest)

Singh Gildarie was buried today. He died yesterday, after a long illness. He was my first home teaching companion in this ward, he could never go with me, he was always too sick, but he was always there for Sacrament meeting, always faithful until the end.

May grace attend him.

Time will pass, but I thought I would link to three discussions of the current disaster:

The shock and outrage over New Orleans' post-Katrina woes reminds me of that experience--and not just because of the chaos. What's just as striking to me is the unique scrutiny to which the local, regional and national disaster response infrastructure is suddenly being subjected. Thirteen years ago, when Hurricane Andrew devastated South Florida to the tune of 25 billion dollars, a quarter of a million people were left homeless, and over a million stranded without power--a quarter-million of them for over a week--as looters ran rampant and government personnel at all levels struggled to maintain order and care for the victims. But I don't remember a national outpouring of fury at the authorities' slow and imperfect response to that disaster. (In fact, compared with the police failures during the LA riots earlier that year, the response to Hurricane Andrew was a model of smooth efficiency.) Rather, the nation's attention focused on the (largely private, charitable) relief effort, as millions in donations were raised to help the victims recover.

Then, for the other side Over the past few years in particular, a lot of money and thought was supposed to have been devoted to planning for rapid response to large-scale urban disasters in the wake of 9/11. While authorities in Louisiana and New Orleans are not as powerful as the Feds, they have known for years that a disaster of this kind was likely and were told in detail what it would do to their city. And yet. The reports of what’s happening convey little except how poorly-prepared, ill-coordinated and slow-moving the disaster response is. As Mark Kleiman comments, failing to plan is planning to fail. Kevin Drum provides a demoralizing chronology explaining why FEMA is being run by people with no experience in disaster management.

Finally, from someone who actually had a spouse there:

Also, the latest update from my husband, who's still helping at the temporary hospital at the New Orleans Airport: They were completely overwhelmed with patients on Wednesday, never less than 15-20 ambulances waiting in a line to unload patients, 2-3 helicopters at a time, too. More medical teams arrived on Thursday, and there have been national guard there to help keep everyone safe, so things started to get under control. The forestry service arrived Thursday night/Friday morning and set up one of their base of operations for the emergency workers, so they now have beds and showers and meals being prepared for them, which is helping morale a LOT. And what a coincidence, that things started to get under control about 72 hours after the disaster...

I'm just reading about it all, and very sad for everyone.

//////////////////// btw, what the LDS Church is currently doing /////////////

Storehouses Continue to Send Supplies to Hurricane Katrina Victims
By Nicole Seymour, Church Magazines

Two additional truckloads of humanitarian aid for Hurricane Katrina's hardest-hit areas along the Gulf coast are on their way from the Bishops' Central Storehouse in Salt Lake City. The semi-trucks, loaded Wednesday, are filled with supplies necessary to sustain the lives of Hurricane Katrina refugees. The cargo includes tents, sleeping bags, bottles of drinking water, and five-gallon gas containers. Meanwhile, Church meetinghouses across the Southeast continue to be used as emergency shelters. One meetinghouse in Metairie, Louisiana, a New Orleans suburb, served as an American Red Cross Shelter and a destination for carloads of the state's refugee families, according to a Philadelphia Inquirer report.

At a press conference addressing the Church's ongoing role in the Hurricane Katrina relief effort, Kevin Nield, director of Bishops' Storehouse Services, said the Church would continue to meet the needs of Church members and other community members who are seeking refuge.

Brother Nield, who has played a significant role in the management of the Church's response to the Hurricane Katrina disaster, said a sufficient supply of drinking water is most essential. He said more water is in demand because of the potential for disease in local water supplies and also because thirst is greater than hunger among evacuees who are, to an extent, in shock. Brother Nield also said the five-gallon gas containers will serve as fuel tanks for generators and chain saws.

As 14 other trucks from the large central warehouse in Salt Lake have arrived or are near arrival among Hurricane Katrina evacuees, food, hygiene kits, and other emergency supplies preceded the latest shipment. Central bishops' storehouses in Texas, Louisiana, Florida, and Georgia are sending vehicles and supplies to the hurricane victims. Brother Nield said some trucking companies are teaming up with the Church to help the regional storehouses to haul goods; some even contribute to the supply of aid. “It could be a bishops' storehouse in Slidell, Louisiana or it could be a chapel in Biloxi, Mississippi,” Brother Nield said. “It depends where the need is and the kind of requests that come forward.” He said the most urgent need is in the areas the media indicate: New Orleans, Louisiana, and Biloxi, Mississippi.

Volunteers from stakes neighboring the disaster are ready and waiting to help, Brother Nield said. “At the appropriate time, members will go in to help: to clean up and fix up and do what recovery could be done early on,” he said. “But again, it is too early in the assessment part of this whole process to know where they will be most needed and what they will be doing.” (For information about how to help with hurricane relief, visit www.providentliving.org).

Even though relief efforts are ongoing, the death toll continues to rise. New Orleans mayor, Ray Nagin, said Wednesday that he estimates the number of storm-related fatalities for his city to be at least in the hundreds, but more likely in the thousands. New Orleans has ironically flooded further in the wake of the storm because much of the city is below sea level. Eighty percent of the city is submerged because of the broken levees on neighboring, Lake Pontchartrain. To the east, Mississippi has a death count of 110; Alabama, 2; and Florida, 11—all victims of Hurricane Katrina. Also in the aftermath of the storm, 2.3 million people across the Southeast have been without electricity.

Federal officials have weighed-in on the disaster. Wednesday, U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary Michael Leavitt, who is a member of the Church, declared a public health emergency. Because of standing water in many areas, the threat of diseases such as typhoid and cholera is apparent. Leavitt said more medical personnel would be present in the hardest hit areas to counter the spread of disease.

Another good link: the other side of the story, still unimpressed with FEMA

Even better, Julie M. Smith's comments at Times and Seasons.

Shortly before midnight Friday, the Bush administration sent her a proposed legal memorandum asking her to request a federal takeover of the evacuation of New Orleans, a source within the state’s emergency operations center said Saturday.

The administration sought unified control over all local police and state National Guard units reporting to the governor. Louisiana officials rejected the request after talks throughout the night, concerned that such a move would be comparable to a federal declaration of martial law. Some officials in the state suspected a political motive behind the request. . . Louisiana did not reach out to a multi-state mutual aid compact for assistance until Wednesday, three state and federal officials said. As of Saturday, Blanco still had not declared a state of emergency, the senior Bush official said. consider it vis a vis this link cafe express.

BTW, for more on the head of FEMA how he lost his last job.

Finally, some blog thoughts on rebuilding, etc. New Orleans will be the New Orleans of the rebuilders.