Not So Random After All

A couple of weeks ago, I challenged myself to write every day. I thought I would see what it feels like to just write whatever random thoughts are in my head each day. The truth is whatever thoughts are in my head on any given day aren't really random. My thoughts are influenced by what I read in the news (and whether I care about it or not), by the time of year (holidays, deadlines), and by my own personality and interests.

If I really wanted to write about something random, I'd write about a topic someone else chose for me. I remember doing writing exercises like that in school. WordPress has a one-word prompt for blogging ideas (recent examples: percussive, underdog, gremlins, mercy). That's random.

If I chose a random word and wrote about it without any preparation, I wouldn't do it very well unless the word evoked thoughts of something I really care about. For example, I have no idea what to do with the word percussive but I would have a field day with underdog and mercy. I just don't express myself well extemporaneously. It's the way my introverted mind is wired. My random thoughts take a long ride through the Broca's area and the right fronto-insular and the left hippocampus. It's nice to know they're going somewhere and not just bouncing around aimlessly.

Word: brain. I'm fascinated with the human brain. Whether introvert or extrovert, I don't think the mind's wiring is random.

Last weekend, my husband took me to the public library. I always go to the one closest to our home. It's small but I always manage to find something to read. Kent wanted me to see how much better the more distant library is (3.5 miles from home versus 1.8). It was nice! Since we were there, I checked out a couple of books.

One of the books I chose is Before You Know It, by John Bargh, PhD, about the unconscious mind and the reasons we do what we do. In a chapter on gut instincts or intuition, Bargh wrote about research on whether unconscious decisions were as good or better than decisions we make consciously. He said that conscious thoughts are better if there are rules to follow, such as when you are making a financial decision based on a budget. 

Unconscious decision-making is better when there are many complex factors to consider. Bargh explains that our conscious working memory is limited and can't focus on more than a few things comfortably. 

Studies have shown that the best decisions are made with a combination of conscious and unconscious thought processes. If you first consciously think about a problem and then put your unconscious mind to work, the outcome is better. The trick is, you have to distract your conscious mind by thinking about something else entirely. Your unconscious mind remains active and helps solve the problem.

This makes me think of the "tip of my tongue" experience, when I'm trying to remember the name of a person or movie and I think it might begin with a certain letter but I just can't remember it no matter how hard I try. I've learned to just say, never mind, it will come to me when I'm not trying. I know my unconscious mind has the answer.

Writing works the same way for me. If I think of a topic with my conscious mind and then go on to do something else entirely, my unconscious mind kicks it around for awhile. I pull up long-term memories and make personal, emotional connections. My frontal lobes get into gear and plan how to organize and make sense of my thoughts.

Knowing that my thought processes aren't as quick or spontaneous as I would like them to be doesn't mean that I shouldn't challenge my brain to work differently. One of these days, I'll give the truly random one-word thought prompt a shot. 

Gremlins were lemons.

The Memory Holder

Today we put up our artificial Christmas tree, a new one. It feels like we just did this, I said. Every year I say this because every year flies by so quickly. Maybe we should just leave it up year round, he said. But the Christmas tree wouldn't be nearly as special if I see it all the time. I would also miss the annual ritual of decorating it.

So I went down to the basement to get the box that holds most of my ornaments. First I hung several glass ornaments in my favorite color, red. Then I got out the partitioned box that holds almost all of the special ornaments I've collected over the years and carefully selected a spot for all of my favorites.

Santas and angels and snowmen. 

Chipmunks and mice and deer.

Snowflakes and sleds and polar bears.

There's the knitted mini Christmas stocking that my Grandma C. made and a knitted cap from someone I can't recall. There's the felt mouse that hangs with a candy cane.

Many of my treasures were given to Kent or me or us by people we worked with who are no longer in our lives. In some cases, I couldn't even tell you who because I wasn't smart enough to write it down. But I know the gold deer came from Alan's wife. And the delicate glass shell was from Mr. Hamilton's partner Lisa.

There's the set of blue snowflakes made out of beads and the white tree and cross, also made of beads. There's the giant feather covered ball that looks like it would be quite cat enticing so I put it out of reach of inquiring paws. 

There are two sets of glass Hallmark ornaments from 1985-1987, the years that Kent and I worked together for Kennedy and Coe in Salina. Also from the Salina years, two Garfield the cat ornaments. From my job at FPPA, I have a collection of wood ornaments, each one a gift from Hancock Timber. I see them and remember our trip to Richmond, VA and our stay at the historic Jefferson Hotel. 

When I get out the angel and the violin, I think of a graceful redhead named Amy who went to Jazzercise classes with me years ago. My pink Precious Moments ornament - the only pink ornament I've ever had - was a gift from another Jazzercise friend, Janeen.

Memories. Even the box that I carefully pack my ornaments in evokes memories. The box originally held Libbey juice glasses - a wedding gift from my college friend Cherri.

My tree brightens up a corner of the family room for a month every year. But it holds precious memories, precious moments in time.

A Glorious Purging

Yesterday, a friend said that people should stop confessing the sins of others. I thought it was kind of clever and while I agree that we should all focus most of our attention on our own sins, there are times when the misconduct of others should be called out and publicly condemned. Collectively, we have a responsibility to protect the vulnerable and the powerless. Culturally, we have a responsibility to demand moral behavior and to elect people of good character.

We're seeing an example of the value of public confessing play out in the news today. It isn't pretty. It isn't pleasant to hear. Some say that we are witnessing a cultural shift and I hope it is true. As a fifty-four year old woman, I say, it's about time.

Every day, another woman comes forward to confess, it happened to me too, and she publicly identifies the man who did it. Since the beginning of time, sexual assault, unwanted advances, and other forms of sexual misconduct have been swept under the rug. Boys will be boys. It's just locker room talk. She asked for it. Powerful men get their attorneys to pay off their accusers and no one knows. Their status and reputation remain intact. A judge slaps a young rapist on the wrist because he doesn't want to ruin his life; never mind the fact that he ruined hers. 

I think of this particular confessing of the sins of others as a glorious purging. The public purging is necessary to rid our culture of deeply ingrained behaviors and attitudes that denigrate and harm women. Purging is the airing of dirty laundry. It's  messy and nasty. It's embarrassing and potentially costly for the accused. And while it might seem better, at least for the accused, to not name names, putting a face to the story humanizes it. By listening to personal stories, we give a measure of dignity to the victims.

All women are empowered when a few women have the courage to come forward - that's the glorious part. Instead of being the usual he said/she said, it's he said/she said to the 14th power. Collectively women are saying, we have had enough. We deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. That's glorious.

Thankful for Clarity

By Jean-François Millet - The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei. 

Earlier this month, I looked back on the night a year ago when it became clear that an unfit, immoral man was about to become president of the United States. I grieved for my country then and I continue to do so today. My feelings about him have not changed. The office did not make him grow up. He is still a narcissist. He is still ignorant and uninformed. He is still the antithesis of Jesus Christ. But despite the darkness that pours out of him, I find reasons to be grateful and to have hope.

I am grateful for the much maligned press because it exposes the president for who he is. I wish that shows like CNN had not given air time to dishonest mouthpieces like Kellyanne Conway who claim that lies are "alternative facts." But I gained respect for the Washington Post and the New York Times and other news organizations that continue to shine a light on the truth whether the president likes it or not. I have been inspired by Dan Rather's wisdom on News and Guts. No matter how bad things get, he has hope for our country.

I am grateful for voices of resistance. It was very powerful to take part in the Women's March and in a few others that followed it. This is what democracy looks like! As a follower of Jesus, I am grateful for the religious resisters who have the courage to say that many Evangelicals are hypocrites, modern day Pharisees all too willing to trade the teachings of Jesus for political power.

I am grateful that there is much more clarity now about where people stand and what they stand for. I used to assume that people shared my values because we grew up together or attended the same church. Those days are gone. Now, I see that many people, even Christians, only care about people who are like them. They live in fear of cultural changes and resent anyone who threatens the status quo or their economic security.

I am grateful that my faith has held firm. Jesus is the same yesterday and today and forever. I am convinced that Jesus is able to guard that which I have entrusted to him. I believe that when the time comes, he will separate the chaff from the wheat with his winnowing fork. He will clean up the threshing area, gathering the wheat into his barn but burning the chaff with never-ending fire.