joanneeddy's blog

Finding the Infinite – A Lesson on Seeing God Blindly

Posted on October 30, 2015 by joanneeddy

“Questioning Life and Destiny and Truth,

I sought the dark and labyrinthine Sphinx,

Who spake to me this strange and wondrous thing:

“Concealment only lies in blinded eyes,

And God alone can see the Form of God.”

I sought to solve this hidden mystery

Vainly by paths of blindness and of pain,

But when I found the Way of Love and Peace,

Concealment ceased, and I was blind no more:

Then saw I God e’en with the eyes of God.”

James Allen

Why do we find that infinite questions often leave us struggling in the darkness, blind, groping for answers? To some degree, I think this happens because of our human tendency to act as if ultimate issues should be approached the same way as all the other ordinary issues in our lives are, as if there is a list: pick up bread and milk, drop off the dry cleaning, get a new job, create world peace, define the meaning of life.

Grappled with the infinite is not a tick it off question of mastering the next challenge in our life or solving the next riddle. It is not easy and it doesn’t happen just because we want answers, simple answers, when life gives us hard questions.

Well, unless we are Oedipus. The myth has it that Hera sent for the Sphinx from Egypt to guard and thereby imprison and punish Thebes. Anyone who wished to live long enough to enter had to answer a riddle posed by the Sphinx who, resting upon a rock above the city, had the body of a lion and the head of a man. She asked Oedipus, “What has one voice but walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in the evening?”

It was a life or death question…and ironically an answered question that would ultimately end by leaving Oedipus blind. His answer: “Man.”

There’s the rub…the answer to infinite questions is not man, but God…or if you are inclined differently to me, the highest power, the universe, or perhaps the eternal. The Sphinx was an agent of a god and so could only pose questions that must, by their nature, lead us to the “more than man” answer.

Oedipus “did not see” that he had always been wrestling with the infinite question of his destiny (to kill his father and marry his mother) and in attempting to flee from it, he fulfills it. Running from his supposed parents in Corinth, he comes to a crossroads and in a dispute with his unknown, but real, father, he kills him. Later, discovering his victory over the Sphinx gave him the crown and his mother as his consort, he sees his destiny and puts out his eyes.

In Hamlet, with echoes of Greek tragedy, Shakespeare said, “What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty! In form and movement how express and admirable! In action how like an Angel! in [his own] apprehension how like a god!” The Danish prince should have listened to the Greeks. Running from our destiny, running from god as if we were God doesn’t work, but leads to “paths of pain.”

Saul, the self-righteous avenging angel of the Law, would be taught that same lesson on the Road to Damascus. When confronted by Christ, he would be blinded, healed as a new man, Paul, he would only then become the agent of God. We have to look a little deeper to see that Saul was already blind before he took his path to the crossroad, believing he was following God’s will in his acts of persecution he was blind to who Christ was and ironically the act that took his vision restored his sight, his ability to actually see God and his call as an apostle.

It seems simplistic to say, but human eyes barely perceive all the elements of the finite. They cannot see the infinite. In fact, the more we focus on the ordinary around us, the harder it is to capture a vision of the divine. That takes a different type of sight, a vision built on trust and faith, more like the oracles of old who were sightless, but who saw through the eyes of their god.

Seeing the infinite is about being blind to everything else that distracts our focus. Finding the infinite takes blind faith and the willingness to follow a still, small voice that leads from darkness into the light. It really is only through seeing ourselves and our world through God’s eyes that we are able to see God.

Allen says, “Such is he who has entered into the Infinite, who by the power of utmost sacrifice has solved the sacred mystery of life.’

This week I started by pondering the divine in my life, trying to understand the mystery of life and death. This weekend will be the anniversary of the death of my sister.

Everything I’ve read and found has been a puzzle that I keep trying to solve. It reminds me of the struggle in the movie, The Matrix, where the protagonist tries to bend a spoon with his mind. He asks a child who does this easily what the secret is, and is told, “There is no spoon.” I think for me, as a finite being, I have to stop trying to reduce the infinite to bite size finite pieces I can understand. The answer is that isn’t the answer. The infinite cannot be captured that way any more than you can pour the ocean into a thimble.

Instead, at least for today, I am embracing blindness, deciding it is ok not to understand …and instead of trying to hold God in the palm of my hand, I will let God embrace me with His.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged Answers about life, Blindness and sight, destiny, Finding God, Finding the infinite, God, Hamlet, Hera, Oedipus, Paul on the road to Damascus, Questioning life and death, Running from destiny, Searching for God, Seeing God, Seeing with blind eyes, the Sphinx, There is no Spoon | 1 Comment

Dancing with a Limp, A Lesson on Grief and Healing – For Linda

Posted on October 18, 2015 by joanneeddy

“Your broken heart…doesn’t seal back up….but…you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” Anne Lamott

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!” Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

This is the longest post I have ever written. I hope you can bear with me to the end. I also hope you will share the information in it with any you know facing a hysterectomy. And if you are grieving, I hope it helps

In my work and in my life, I have learned a lot about pain, physical and emotional. No one loves pain. No one wants to relive it by choice, except perhaps those who don’t really feel it. Rather, most of us want to deny it, bury it, or run as hard and as long as we can from it.

I have been running. For almost a year.

Doing this blog had been something I loved. Week after week I wrote, enjoying every minute, even when I had to work to cobble those minutes together. Any time I found a quote that intrigued me, I would move it into a draft post. That way I always had something percolating to write an entry. My blog was an anchor for me and a passion. I loved it.

…until we lost Linda. She was/is my husband’s younger sister. I met her when she was seven, almost eight, and in all the ways that matter she was my sister. I convinced her mother to let her get her ears pierced, told her the real truth Mom didn’t about the birds and bees, argued for her right to go to college and be more than a secretary, and went with her to pick out clothes for the trip she planned to Chicago to convince Frank, who became her husband, that they were so much more than friends. I shared her loss when her own Mom died, (also from cancer, also young at 58) before Linda married or had children of her own. I was her maid of honor.

I loved her. And we lost her to cancer spread by a procedure to remove fibroids that if had been done differently would have posed little risk. (See link below) And this has tied me in knots and left me hurting and angry, empty and grieving.

And this blog, well, I lost it, too. I always strove to write from a place of honesty and positive outlook. But as I struggled with losing Linda, I lost my footing. Nothing interested me enough to write about it and I fought to find balance. For me, being a blogger, like being a therapist, required moving an issue to a different frame, so that you (and I) could gain a different insight, see it from a more objective perspective.

Linda’s death altered my ability to sustain perspective. It was too close and it hurt too much. I needed to write about it, but I couldn’t talk about Linda from the distance that objectivity requires. Without that, I found it harder and harder to talk about anything else that way.

Gradually, little pieces of a balanced viewpoint came back…in small bursts. John Green says in The Fault in Our Stars, “Grief does not change you…it reveals you.” For me, this has been a bumpy process, flashes of revealing light, moments of darkness.

This summer I had a conversation with Jennifer Levitz, an investigative reporter for the Wall Street Journal. She wrote a story about Linda and the cancer that took her life that was published just after Lin’s death. They became close over the months of her illness and Ms. Levitz has continued Linda’s advocacy to get morcellators removed from use, (this is the surgical tool used for laparoscopic hysterectomies that cuts up fibroids and can spread undetected cancer within them.) Jennifer has helped keep the issue and the story alive. Now, thanks to her and to others, the FBI is investigating why the device wasn’t removed in 2006 when concerns first arose, the House has passed legislation on monitoring medical devices, and Congressman Mike Fitzpatrick and 11 other representatives have gotten a GAO investigation launched.

As we talked this summer, I realized Jennifer filled a critical role for Linda. Jennifer was that point of perspective and insight for her. She was a source of information and wisdom. She became a friend.

I have always been able to be that for others, but only rarely was able to do that for Lin her last year. I have beaten myself up pretty badly over this. But realizing that Jennifer provided it for her has really helped me. Linda needed someone to talk to who cared, but who wasn’t hurting over knowing they would lose her. Our pain could only multiply hers and what she already carried about her girls and her beloved husband, Frank. That was the greatest pain she spoke to me about, not what she was going through, but about how they would be without her, like she had been without Mom.

Ms. Levitz’s writing also provided a forum for doing something uncommon to Lin: taking center stage, not for herself, but for this issue, so no other woman would go through what she did. Linda did it despite being an introvert and very private person and it has made a difference. Jennifer told me she needed someone to put a human face to this issue. Linda was that brave face. The good that came from Ms. Levitz story is Linda’s legacy.

I have tried to continue Linda’s work by posting on Facebook, raising the issue, posting and emailing Jennifer’s articles. And the first blessing in this for me finally happened this month. The wife of a friend was about to have a hysterectomy. When he read one of my posts, he messaged me and they will not be doing it using a morcellator, as had been the plan. One life spared, perhaps. One out of 350 women have undetected cancer that is spread by this device.

Several things have finally helped me regain my perspective. First, in Linda’s memory, and for other family members, our daughter and I walked in a Light the Night Walk last Saturday in Raleigh. What an uplifting experience! Gretchen raised $1,000 for the Leukemia Lymphoma Association, matched by her company for a $2000 total. I raised a few hundred more. It is barely a beginning, but seeing the lanterns lit for those lost, those fighting, and for those providing support helped me see that darkness cannot overcome light. Light always prevails when it is shared.

This Saturday, one week later, Lin’s husband, Frank, and daughters, Katie and Grace, ran in her honor in LA virtually participating in a SlaySarcoma5K fundraiser created by Dr. Amy Reed and her husband, advocates in this fight, actually held in Pennsylvania. (Dr. Reed has Stage 4 cancer due to morcellization of a sarcoma). In Minnesota, Lin’s oldest brother, Don, and his daughter, Robin, also ran to stop this disease. Linda loved to run. She and Robin ran marathons together, and I think she would probably love the idea of a virtual race, feet up, drinking a beer, or by being in one virtually with her family. One way and another, all of us are keeping a light lit for her.

Finally, as I was finishing this, I went to see if Jennifer Levitz had written anything more about this recently. What I found was the news that her series on Linda and this issue was a top finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Journalism. No one could deserve this honor more than Jennifer. Somewhere in heaven, I’m sure Linda is smiling.

I don’t know if any more bumps in the road remain for me, or if I will get back to weekly blogging. Some of my bumps have certainly been boulders. But I do know that the same ocean that flows to the beaches in East Dennis and into the safe Sesuit Harbor near Linda’s Cape Cod home, rolls onto the beaches here at the Outer Banks. Lin and I always thought Mom went with us when we walked the shore at Harbor Beach. Now, Linda and Mom walk together, and although I am limping and following behind on a different beach, I know someday we will dance in the waves together.

Links: Jennifer Levitz’s story on Linda Want to make a difference by donating: SlaySarcoma Research Fund Pulitzer Prize information: Deadly Medicine Series Pulitzer Prize Finalist

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged Anne Lamott, Cancer, cancer risks for hysterectomy, Dancing with a Limp, Good grief, grief, grief and healing, Jennifer Levitz, laparoscoptic hysterectomy, Leimylosarcoma, leukemia, Light the Night, Light the Night walk for cancer, Linda Interlichia, loss, lymphoma, Morcellator, risks of using morcellation, Running from grief, sarcoma, Searching for God in grief, surgery for fibroids, The deeper the grief the closer is God, Wall Street Journal, WSJ Deadly Medicine Series | 3 Comments

The Silly Old Ant – A Lesson on Gratitude and Hope

Posted on September 28, 2015 by joanneeddy

Next time you’re found, with your chin on the ground
There a lot to be learned, so look around

Just what makes a silly old ant
Think he’ll move a rubber tree plant
Anyone knows an ant, can’t
Move a rubber tree plant

But he’s got high hopes, he’s got high hopes
He’s got high apple pie, in the sky hopes

So any time you’re gettin’ low
‘stead of lettin’ go
Just remember that ant
Oops there goes another rubber tree plant

When troubles call, and your back’s to the wall
There a lot to be learned, that wall could fall

Once there was a silly old ram
Thought he’d punch a hole in a dam
No one could make that ram, scram
He kept buttin’ that dam

‘Cause he had high hopes, he had high hopes
He had high apple pie, in the sky hopes

So any time you’re feelin’ bad
‘stead of feelin’ sad
Just remember that ram
Oops there goes a billion kilowatt dam

All problems just a toy balloon
They’ll be bursted soon
They’re just bound to go pop
Oops there goes another problem kerplop

A song by Jimmy Van Heusen….a vocal attitude adjustment for us by Frank Sinatra

Oops, it’s strange how things “pop” in my mind… like this song from my childhood, ..and intriguing how things connect through synergy.

The origin of this post happened when I was sitting in bed Saturday night. Like always I checked my phone’s news app, where one preference is set for scientific research. On the screen was an article about research by Dr. Robert Emmons at the University of California (Davis). He found looking at our problems through the lens of our gratitude is healthy for us.

The article said: “The psychological benefits include less stress, higher levels of joy, pleasure, optimism and hope. Physical benefits include improved immune system and blood pressure, decreased aches and pains, and better sleeping patterns.” Remember the line from another song, “When I’m worried and I can’t sleep…” Emmons found counting blessings did help sleep…and a lot more!.

This is not a suggestion to “Don’t worry, be happy,” ignore your problems and don’t deal with your losses. That is a philosophy Emmons calls “superficial happyology.”

Rather he tells us to look at what has hurt us and ask ourselves, “What have I learned from or gained by my experience? Is anything better in my life because I went through this? How did what happened help me become who I am today? What did this teach me about what is most important in life?”

We know we all live through bad events. This research tells us the ultimate question for our mental, emotional, and physical health is what we do when bad things happen.

My mother, that great philosopher of Polish wisdom, used to admonish, “We need to cultivate an attitude of gratitude.” Like most mothers, she was right. We do need to cultivate gratitude…we need to choose to focus on positive answers to those questions. My mother believed…right again…that the more often we make that choice the easier it becomes. I learned early on in life, gratitude is not only an attitude, but a habit.

But is this realistic? Isn’t it asking a lot to ask people in the middle of a crisis to be grateful for it? Emmon’s answer to that is, “In fact, it is precisely under crisis conditions when we have the most to gain by a grateful perspective on life. In the face of demoralization, gratitude has the power to energize. In the face of brokenness, gratitude has the power to heal. In the face of despair, gratitude has the power to bring hope.” In other words, gratitude is the best way to cope with hard times.

Dr. Emmon’s research also implies negative thinking makes bad situations worse. Ok, research intrigues me, and I found another study confirming this. A University of Connecticut study found people who were grateful for their first heart attack, as a blessing in disguise giving them a better appreciation for life, were much less likely to have a second heart attack than those who only focused on the negativity of the event.

I have always admired Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and love this quote which seems to fit here, “Gratitude changes the pangs of memory into tranquil joy.” (When theologians mention joy, it’s time to pay attention!) For many of the victims of trauma with whom I worked, their memories created pangs, spasms of pain, shooting from the past into the present. Helping them to create perspective, rethink those events, find learnings in them, and make positive choices because of them, gave them the ability to put the pain back into the past and find hope, gratitude, and even joy in the now.

Ok…so here’s where the synergy kicks in…and you get to decide if it makes sense. As I lay in bed thinking about responding to problems with gratitude and joy, the song above, High Hopes, popped into my brain, along with the vivid memory of watching a group of kids singing it with Frank Sinatra. (I actually found a YouTube link to this memory: Frank Sinatra High Hopes Click if you’d like to hear it.)

Why High Hopes? What were the synapses in my brain trying to tell me? I think it was that gratitude “when we’re feeling bad” means never giving up on ourselves or on life, that gratitude and high hopes are connected. High hopes are the beliefs that don’t let us down in the face of bad times or hard tasks. Even when we feel as small as ants, even when it seems like we have no ability to prevail, if we hold on to hope, we can. We know this when we recognize and are grateful for the gifts, the successes, life has brought in the past…even in our darkest times.

I don’t know what rubber trees lie ahead to get in my way…or yours. I don’t know what problems will create a dam to block you or me from the river of joy meant to flow through our lives. I do know I plan to be an Ant with attitude, an attitude of high hopes and gratitude. And I will prevail. How about you?

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged A Lesson on Gratitude and Hope, an attitude of gratitude, Coping, coping with pain, coping with trauma, Dr. Robert Emmons, Gratitude, Greater Good Science Center, health and attitude, health benefits of gratitude, health benefits of positive attitude, High Hopes, hope, questions to ask when bad thinks occur, Sinatra | Leave a comment

Just Visiting – Lessons from Monopoly

Posted on September 20, 2015 by joanneeddy

“We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe,to learn, to grow, to LOVE… and then we return home.”
– Aborigine philosophy

Do you like Monopoly? It was one of my family’s favorites. As a kid, it took me a while to figure out a strategy that could help me win the game because so much of Monopoly was not a part of a child’s experience: Wisely buying property, targeting where to invest, paying Income Tax, and Going to Jail, Directly to Jail, no passing Go, no $200.

Jail? I guess I saw some on TV. But if you merely happened to land on the square that was jail…why then you were just visiting. Wow…why would anyone want to visit a jail? But next roll, you’d just move on. So, I quickly figured out visiting jail was greatly to be preferred to being sent there. When you had to go to jail, everyone else continued buying and passing Go and making money, while you just sat there hoping to roll doubles. Life simply passed you by, you no longer participated.

Then ironically, as I grew older and more sophisticated, I sometimes hoped to get the “Go to Jail” card or land on the square. This would be late in the game when I needed to get past my father’s monopoly of Park Place and Board Walk with his hotels and high rents.

My money running out, wanting to continue the game, I’d wish desperately that I could just sit in jail. Lay low, I thought, maybe your luck will change, maybe someone will land on Mediterranean Avenue and pay you enough to continue…at least for a few more rounds. Going to Jail actually looked like a way out. Maybe someone else will go bankrupt while I’m here, and even if I don’t win, I won’t lose either. Funny how life gets more complex as we grow older and “wiser,” yet hold on to our magical thinking.

I guess one way to look at this entry is to think about the lesson from this game and what it teaches about being poor, when you don’t own the richest properties, when someone else has a Monopoly of all the railroads, when you’re so broke you know you can’t win and just try any strategy not to lose altogether. Sure seems to mirror life.

Or let’s focus on the jail lesson and I’ll tell you about being a social worker when I did learn about jail…and visit there. I can assure you visiting as a professional was very different from what it was for those there visiting someone they loved. Jail in the real world may entail watching life pass you by, but it is nowhere near as benign as in Monopoly. What is the same, however, is a version of my desperate hope, and the magical thinking that maybe, please God maybe, when jail is left behind, things will somehow be different. Of course, I knew, the same poverty, the same streets, and the same dead ends were snares out there….waiting.

Both those lessons were learned in my career. But what has really caught my fancy today, on this Sunday when my husband has a vacation day, is an even bigger lesson. What captured me and started me thinking yesterday, and still today, was the aboriginal quote above. It made me think past my childhood and professional life experiences to life itself.

It seems to me that most of us don’t live as if we know we are all here just visiting, regardless of money or location. In this world, this job, this place, this family, there are only so many times past Go! We are just passing through. We don’t get to play this game forever. Yet, we act as if the present is permanent, even as we mark occasions, like birthdays and anniversaries, that show us it’s not.

Of course, we do know all this at some deep level, but on the surface where we live, we are so busy racing to get to Go and then pass it and round again, we rarely dive to that depth. I think that’s why we write songs that illustrate the concept that we blink and life is past.

And while it is important, as the quote says, to watch and learn about life by observation, in a time-limited experience we can’t always stay on the sidelines, as spectators rather than participants. We need to dive into life. Deep. We need to splash and laugh, and kick our feet. We need to play and love and toss children in the air. We need to immerse ourselves in the wonder around us. We need transcendent moments when we see the “world in a grain of sand and heaven in a flower.” (Blake) We need to love and merge our soul with others to learn and share the immortality in our mortal moments. We have to do more than just visit, we need to live and love even though we are just visiting.

And then, having fully lived, we can finally turn for home, move past the momentary for the eternal where a safe harbor awaits. But for me, until then, my goal is to remember life is only a visit. And just like a vacation when you explore new places and try to see every possible thing you can squeeze into your time away, I want to embrace every bit of life I can and share it with those I love.

Do not just pass Go. Do not just collect $200. Come, join me. Let’s dive in…deep…and make this the best visit anyone ever had.

Posted in Inklings | Tagged A Lesson on jail, Being poor, just visiting, Lessons from monopoly, life as a visit, Living life to the fullest, Monopoly, Passing through, We all all visitors to life, We only pass this way once | 7 Comments

The Road Less Traveled – A Lesson on What Makes a Difference

Posted on August 8, 2015 by joanneeddy

Two roads diverged in the wood, and I – I took the road less traveled by and that made all the difference.

Artistic video of Frost’s Poem by QuestionVerum2010 Beautifully read, stunning pictures

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth…

Then took the other, just as fair,

Do you think about the paths you have traveled in your life, the choices you have made? About how you got to where you are?

I do. A lot….even more lately.

Unlike many Americans, my path has never been designed or chosen to take me to success, or power, or money, though I have had some version of all of them proportionate to being a social worker, anyway. Walking alongside my minister husband, our compass set on meaning, our way has been guided toward fulfilling a purpose for life.

So, my road has led me in interesting directions, branches that I hope not only made a difference in my life but, also, in the lives of those with whom I walked: young children, teens, the homeless, mentally ill women, the battered, the abused, juvenile offenders, foster children, families in trouble, dropouts.

Everyday we trade away a piece of our lives though most often we are so busy we don’t think about that. We only tend to think about it when we get to those places where suddenly the path diverges and we have to make a change, a path correction, a choice for our next direction. Then we pause to ask, Where do I want to go? What is important to me? What am I willing to trade for this path?

Sometimes, in the autumn of our lives, we even question if it’s time to go back to a path we contemplated but did not choose in the spring. We question if we have any regrets we could eliminate by our next path. Or, if not as strong as regret, we can contemplate taking an adventure we always wished we had taken. “Can I can do it now? At Last?”

I have been so lucky….so blessed. I have lived a life rich in fulfillment. Now, laid off, I need to look for a new way forward. My choice of path is influenced by all the choices that I have made before. So, though I am not sure at this moment where I will go, I know the right choice lies just ahead.

Some may say that this is true because of who I am. Don McLean put it this way, “There’s no need for turning back. All roads lead to where I stand. And I believe I’ll walk them all, No matter what I may have planned.” Fate. The universe. Our future in the stars of a starry night.

Put into my belief system, I believe God has the plan. Sometimes, roadblocks get in His way, but if I am faithful, He’ll open new doors for me that will make all the difference.

So, no matter what your belief system, or where you are on the road, my wish for you is that you find your calling, enjoy your path, and trust the journey.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged Now What Should I do?, Poems by Robert Frost, Robert Frost, The Road Less Traveled, The Road Not Taken, Two roads diverged, What Makes the Difference, When you hit a road block in life | 9 Comments

Finding the Door – A Lesson on Exploring the Opportunity in a Crisis

Posted on June 27, 2015 by joanneeddy

“Bad things do happen. How I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most valuable gift I have – life itself.” Walter Anderson

I have just hit one of those times. We all have them: times when life gives us an unexpected slap in the face. Due to state budget cuts, I have been laid off. This is the second time in five years for me, so it is not unknown territory. Yet, while I can negotiate the terrain, that doesn’t make it easy and certainly not fun. For me, this also comes at the end of a tougher period in my life and after more than one bump in my road. This, well, this feels like hitting a big pothole

Still, it has long been my philosophy that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. So, while I am updating my resume and searching want ads, I’ve also asked myself, as I have before, what is the good I can extract from this? Where is the life lesson?

I probably first began to look at this thought years ago when someone showed me this picture and said that it was the Japanese pictogram for the word crisis. They explained that the upper figure is a partially opened door and the bottom swirling waters. They finished by saying so Crisis = Danger (the water) + Opportunity (the open door).

Well, it was years before I learned that this was someone’s invention, that it is neither Japanese or Chinese. It is more like an Urban Legend…untrue, but it feels true. I think that is because it does capture truth. Every crisis is fraught with danger…the swirling waters can wash us away. At the same time, I have found over and over in my life that it is in and through these swept away times that we can be carried to new and unexplored paths, new opportunities, new ideas, new ways of being. Some of them we may know in our imagination. Maybe, we wanted to explore them but held on to the safety of the familiar. Once that is no longer possible, when we are compelled to explore where life is taking us…we may find where we really want to go.

Five years ago, while I searched for work, I used the opportunity of losing my job to finish the book I was writing but hadn’t had time to complete. Perhaps using my new “opportunity,” I can find the way to sell it. I don’t know. I do know I won’t be defeated by this and I will wrestle with this crisis until I extract the possibility, or the blessing if you will, that is in this situation somewhere. I will also take some quiet time for rest and introspection. Sometimes the best answers appear in quiet moments.

Crises come to us all in big ways and small….but a crisis doesn’t have to be a catastrophe. The trick is to find the hidden door to opportunity…and to find it you just have to make up your mind to look. Of course, that is step one. Then, your second step is to make up your mind to open it and walk through. Be advised, it may be locked. If it is, step three is to ask what is the key…and set about acquiring it. Do you need help from someone? Do you need an education or training? Are you prepared to start over and work hard to traverse this new path? Can you defer what you’d like right now to have this better thing in the future, clinging to the door until you can pull it open?

Like most things in life, the struggle may not be easy, but it will be an exercise of character. Shannon Adler said, “Before you can live a part of you must die. You have to let go of what could have been…and accept that you can’t change the past…When you recognize that truth you can finally understand forgiveness…and you will finally be free.”

Finding the door is half the battle….letting yourself walk through it is the rest. The waters won’t defeat you….only you can defeat you. Trust yourself. Breathe. Think….pray. Look for the answers…they are there. Crisis? It’s ok…the door is waiting, the opportunity is there. Let’s open it together.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged crisis, Crisis = Danger + Opportunity, crisis equals danger plus opportunity, crisis in our life, opening a door to opportunity, what to do when facing a life crisis | 1 Comment

Life is What You Make It – A Lesson From Groundhog Day

Posted on February 6, 2015 by joanneeddy

Groundhog (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Your present circumstances do not determine where you go. They merely determine where you start.” Nido Qubein

“You must take personal responsibility. You can’t change circumstances, the season, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of.” John Rohn

This week in America we celebrated Groundhog’s Day. Every February 2nd is supposedly the day that a groundhog comes out of hibernation long enough to see whether spring is coming. Legend has it that if he sees his shadow he returns to his burrow to slumber for 6 more weeks until spring arrives. If he doesn’t, spring is about to begin and hibernation is over. Here in North Carolina, Sir Walter Wally, our official groundhog prognosticator, says spring is on its way!

English: a simple groundhog (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

To weave my way back to the quotes I started with, this week I watched an old movie, Groundhog Day, with my granddaughters. Silly movie but interesting premise. Bill Murray, the main protagonist, a weatherman, is stuck on February 2nd, reliving it over and over again. Each morning he awakes to the same radio greeting, the same repetitive job of reporting on the groundhog, while everyone says exactly the same things they have said the day before which, like today, is still Groundhog Day.

First Murray is befuddled, then angry, then hedonistic, devil-may-care, eat all the doughnuts you want, no rules apply (he can’t even die) because the next morning he awakes to exactly the same day. “Poor me. My life stinks. I can’t change anything.” He snoops on people, gaining knowledge to use them or seduce them. He snarls his way through the repeated broadcasts. Eventually the pointlessness of it makes him suicidal as a way of escape….and he can’t even escape that way.

Ultimately, however, he learns a profound lesson: Life is lived in this moment. He begins to turn outward instead of focusing on self-gratification while trying to pretend to be someone he’s not. He starts to use what he has learned to help others. He feeds and saves a homeless man, prevents another from choking, assists two elderly women, and saves a marriage, then uses the rest of the time to improve himself. He learns to play the piano and speak French, one day at a time. He learns to accomplish what he can and to change himself into the man he wishes to be today, because for him the future doesn’t exist.

Of course, once he learns that lesson, he wins the girl he loves and moves on to the future. That lesson really is a lesson for all of us.

Pocket watch, savonette-type. Italiano: Orologio da taschino (cipolla). Español: Reloj de bolsillo. ગુજરાતી: ખિસ્સામાં રાખવાની ઘડિયાળ. עברית: שעון כיס. Македонски: Џебен часовник 日本語: 懐中時計. Polski: Zegarek kieszonkowy. Português: Relógio de bolso. Русский: Карманные часы. Slovenščina: Vreckové hodinky. Slovenščina: Žepno uro so izumili leta 1510 v Nemčiji. Suomi: Taskukello. ไทย: นาฬิกาพก. 中文: 怀表. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you think about it, there is no “future.” It really doesn’t exist since it’s always off in the ether of “tomorrow.” What we have is today…and what we make of it. What we do today is what builds the future. If we try to wait, to create the future in the future, we will never have it. Tomorrow is only a possibility not a guarantee, and the truth is only the present is real. The hard reality is that it is only in the present that we can change anything.

I know it’s a simple lesson. Sometimes the most important things are simple, yet strangely, not always easily learned. It’s so easy to believe we’ll have time later to change ourselves, to finally do what we only ever dreamed we could. Murray proves that even in boring, repetitive circumstances, trapped in a job that has become redundant, there can be a way to move forward. You’ll need to start by learning you can only change yourself, not anyone else. You also may need to try more than once to get there…but if you try today, everyday, you’ll make it.

Come on little groundhog. No more time hibernating, even if it’s still cold out there. Life is always a time for new beginnings whether it is spring or not. You can’t change the world or the season, but you can change your future today. You’ve got this.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged Groundhog, Groundhog Day (film), Life is What You Make of It, Living One Day at a Time, Pennsylvania, Punxsutawney, Punxsutawney Phil, Sir Walter Wally | 4 Comments

Character Beyond Success – A Lesson from Caroline

Posted on January 29, 2015 by joanneeddy

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” Helen Keller

“Bad things happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life.” Walter Anderson

Some people are defeated by life. “Why me,” they bemoan while each new self-fulfilling failure becomes a confirmation that life is not fair. They are not wrong about that. Life isn’t always fair. Yet, when we let pain turn us inward as we press the slings and arrows of the world into our hearts, we multiply the injury. It can become the excuse some use to stop trying, give up, and spiral into negativity.

Others equally experience the unfairness of life. Yet, somehow, they mount up upon their sorrows, their injuries and disappointments, and phoenix-like are transformed. The fire of their losses does not consume them. It strengthens their character to burn away imperfection, yet softens their hearts to embrace empathy and live it in ways those with no pain rarely understand. Failure becomes a springboard to success, but more importantly to making them persistent and compassionate, lighting a beacon in them that inspires others.

This week, our granddaughter, Caroline received a Wake County Spotlight Achievement Award as the outstanding student at Apex Middle School. We are so proud of her, certainly for her achievement, but even more for the person she is.

The ceremony celebrated a diverse group of middle school and high school students. Some had been voted their award largely because of academic achievement. Others were selected who had made bad choices and turned their lives around, and accomplished school success. One young man wants to be an Olympic athlete. Another young man had fought brain cancer and was in a wheelchair, but he will graduate from high school this year. All were leaders who inspired others.

Our Caroline was right up there, a recipient for her school success and an inspiration for others in overcoming life’s problems. At 14, Caroline has been dealing with alopecia this year. At this point, she has lost most of her hair. Tough to do at an age when so much is about how you look. At first, she wore hats and, since she has retained hair on the lowest part of her head, she could disguise her disorder.

Caroline went to the ceremony, as she has gone to school since Christmas break, without a hat. She was beautiful. Next month, on March 7th, Caroline will participate in a St. Baldrick event and shave off her remaining hair to raise money for childhood cancer. She has a different empathy than others who will participate. She realizes cancer is worse than alopecia, but she knows first hand at least a small part of the loss. All who participate recognize the issue. That, by itself, is amazing. I applaud them. But, excuse a Nana’s pride, when Caroline’s head is shaved her hair will not return. That takes courage and the willingness to change loss to victory.

One of my proudest moments at the award ceremony was not when she received her plaque, but afterwards. There was a huge crowd and we had to wait to get to her. Then, I saw her speaking to the young man in the wheelchair. I don’t know what she said, but his mother was moved enough to ask her to take a picture of them together. Even in celebration, Caroline looked outward to others. None of the other recipients approached this young man, but she did. She chose to share a moment with him. She truly is amazing. Of course, to us that is no surprise. She always has been.

Success that comes from character is a reward for something that will be a life-long asset. I am sure Caroline will build upon this experience and go on to ongoing success.

English: Traditional street lanterns (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So what did she teach me? That courage comes in everyday events. That kindness only takes a moment but can impact a lifetime. That the habit of compassion is an enduring gift. She also reminded me of an inspirational quote I have come to love and have shared with you before, yet, it is worth repeating. “Those who lift a lamp to light the way for another also light their own path.”

Why me? Why not me? Why not you? Why not all of us? We all walk in darkness and need someone to share their light.

Thank you, Caroline.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged "only through trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened", Achievement, Character, character is more than success, Grit, Helen Keller, On turning suffering into success, St. Baldrick's Foundation, Succeeding through character, Wake County Spotlight Award | 2 Comments

Character – On Having What It Takes to Succeed

Posted on January 26, 2015 by joanneeddy

“Hardwork spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don’t turn up at all.” Sam Ewing

Woody Allen apparently coined the quotation, “90% of success is showing up.” Although BrainyQuote has him with several versions of this quote and varying percentages – 90, 80 and 70% – Perhaps he has changed his mind over time!

While I am inclined to a lower percentage, (say 51%), as someone who runs a GED program at a community college, I know the biggest challenge for many of our students is just getting to our classes. Our students have lots of road-blocks in their way: few come from a supportive family, most are experiencing grinding poverty, many have learning disabilities, few have faith in their ability to actually succeed and graduate. Every day they show up is a small victory, for them and for us, and our job often starts by getting them to believe in themselves.

Chemeketa Community College medical students (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I agree, therefore, that showing up is crucial. Without that, nothing else can happen. Sometimes, with our students, I feel like a motivational speaker. “Just come….the only way you will fail is if you never try!”

So the first task to showing up is overcoming the resistance we all have (I’ll just sleep 10 more minutes; I’ll start that diet tomorrow; I’m too stressed to do that right now. I’ll never make it, so why try.) We have to bring ourselves to the place where we can begin. Then we have to keep showing up, day by day, keeping our commitment.

In my writing, that means sitting down at the computer, facing a blank white page, and then that last percentage kicks in: doing something with it. That is the part that is more than showing up. That where the real work starts. For this blog, first there is preparation. I people watch or think about something I have noticed. Then I do research or find quotations. Then….I sit down and face the blank page.

If you think about it, everything begins with a blank page: new relationships, a job you start, a home you buy, the person you want to become, the thing you want to learn. Then, you start one word at a time, one note at a time, one moment at a time, one act at a time, one class at a time. You don’t have to play a sonata the first time you sit at a piano, or lift 200 pounds the first time you go to the gym. You won’t be the perfect baker the first time you turn on the oven. But you can do anything you want to do if you keep at it. It may be hard work, but you can. You have to want it, stick to it, and you’ll do it.

That’s character. “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” my mom would say. I’d add, “and neither are you.” Character and fortitude don’t come cheap…you have to earn them one day at a time. And dreams…well, dreams seldom fall into our laps, wishing rarely makes them come true. Hard work on the other hand….ah, you get the idea. Go on, there’s a blank page out there waiting for you to write your name on it.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged "90% of success is showing up", accomplishing things in life, Achieving success, Character, Community college, finding a way to succeed, GED students, Hardwork spotlights character, not giving up, Sam Ewing, Showing Up, Success | Leave a comment

Candles in the Window

Posted on January 19, 2015 by joanneeddy

English: Candles light a plate of oranges and “smarties” on Christmas Eve 2010. In the background, there are two plates of cookies (hard to recognise). Deutsch: Kerzen beleuchten einen Teller mit Orangen und „Smarties“ an Heiligabend 2010. Im Hintergrund stehen zwei Teller Kekse (schwer zu erkennen). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“From earliest times to the present, home has always been more than a simple shelter from the elements. Home also represents family and loved ones as well as a place where its members are always welcome. What could be more welcoming to a weary traveler on a dark night than a light glowing in a window? Like a beacon, the light guides the traveler through the inky darkness toward the warmth and safety of the home.” Chuck Nugent from HubPages The Candle in the Window

While “we’ll leave the light on for you” has been used as the advertising catch phrase for one motel chain, leaving a light or a candle burning in the window has a long tradition.

English: Interior of All Saints, Greetham Candle on the window ledge of the north window. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My mother told me that the idea of placing a candle in the window to light the way for a loved one to return home came from World War II. Both her brothers served in that war and came home. She later lit a candle in a window of our house for her beloved brother, Teddy, when he went to fight in the Korean War. He was killed there in combat in 1951.

It turns out that this tradition pre-dates my mother’s knowledge. The cited HubPages quote above by Chuck Nugent celebrates a story of a candle still burning today for a World War I soldier. After more research, a later post by him tells us that the candle was actually lit for a son who went on a journey in 1927 and died in a plane crash. Though the mother who placed it there is long gone, her devotion is still honored. The candle remains, lit night and day, in a home in Canandaigua, NY, a landmark noted by all who visit there.

English: Candles on a German Christmas tree Deutsch: elektrische Kerzen am Weihnachtsbaum (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Colonial Williamsburg has had candles in the window at Christmas since 1934 and cites their architect as saying candles were lit in Boston windows at Christmas since 1896. This made me think of candles in the tower of the Old North Church, “one if by land and two if by sea,” that launched Paul Revere’s ride. Certainly, I have subsequently found other references to candles in windows for Civil War soldiers and in colonial times to light the way home for loved ones.

Ellie Rodriquez said, “The light is what guides you home…warmth is what keeps you there.” A candle easily can stand as a symbol of home, not just for its light, but because its glow seems as warm as the love that waits there for our return. Whether that metaphorical candle has or has not been lit for us, whether that place is still owned by our family, or we never go there anymore, home always occupies a place in our memory. Over time, I think, home acquires perspective. We understand more of what it meant to us as we reflect on our best and even our worst remembrances.

English: Candle Polski: Świeca (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In Polish tradition, “Gromnica” candles are taken to church on February 2nd or Candlemas, the day Mary was blessed in the synagogue after the birth of Christ. After being consecrated, this candle would be placed in windows during thunderstorms to protect the family, lit in the spring to ward off wolves, and placed in the hands of the dying to attest to their faithfulness and light their way home to heaven.

Several years ago I wrote an ad for our church. The text read:

“Home is where you go to make to sense out of things. Family are those who love you while you find the answers. Come HOME…

My hope for you this year is that memories will bring you light, warmth of recollection, and remembrances of love to help you find perspective on the past and make sense of the future. Go home. It’s ok. In memory, we can always find the way and the lights are always on.

Posted in Writings by Wordsmiths and Others | Tagged Boston, candles, Candles at Christmas, candles in the window, Candles in Williamsburg, Christmas, coming home, Finding the way home, Finding your way home, Home, lighting candles, Old North Church, tradition, World War I, World War II | 4 Comments