No Effort is Ever a Waste of Time: Even Slow Starts Become Fully Formed Realities if We Let Them.

 

images-14For quite some time I have been working on keeping the Community Story project going. The idea was to offer a single paragraph as a basis for a story and ask others to contribute util the initial prompt had formed into a story that I edited for consistency, etc. I did this in a similar form with my students but had them complete the story in small groups working together in person. I had tried offering it through Facebook and there were some wonderful submissions from friends; but, unfortunately, because the ideas were so diverse in focus, I could not quite combine their work into one story as I had hoped.

I tried resurrecting it in person with my friend and YA author Stacey Wilk, but while we had a blast with our group, we tended to have more beginning writers join us who were not quite yet ready for formal submissions. I do have to emphasize though that offering a single sentence or paragraph for a prompt for a group to work from–in person–is a wonderful practice tool that not only offers a cohesive focus to center on but it also allows each writer to understand how varied the same subject can become in the hands and imagination of each individual.

I refused to give up on it entirely but stopped making it a primary focus for a while, leaving it up in the air to see what might transpire to reinvigorate my interest. The solution presented itself as I visited my husband’s studio during a busy Saturday class session. As our dog, Smokey, proceeded, yet again, to steal a towel from someone to play keep away, our friend Deb suggested that he would make a great subject for a story. Next thing I knew, many voices joined in and ideas for themes and plots were being volleyed around the space, with someone being assigned the job of illustrating the first book. Here I was in a matter of moments, the chief editor, so to speak, of a series of books—not just one story. One manuscript has already been compiled, reviewed by contributors, and returned for changes and additions. The illustrator, Kimberly, has already brought some sketches in. The momentum is building. Now, this is a community story and it formed in a way I had not envisioned: spontaneity.

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Shall I bother pointing out the obvious: You can’t make things work; you can only keep moving forward and sharing ideas until something forms from the chaos or vagueness of an idea.

Keep Reading, Keep Learning, Keep Growing

Some ideas and observations are worth a revisit. This entry was originally posted about 3 years ago and I find that it has relevance still today. I’ve  changed the title and did a bit of editing but the essence remains:

Perfection is an inaccurate term to use for a human being, I believe. There is a positive force to embody in our lives regardless of the term we apply to it. As I continue to savor random moments alone with How Yoga Works by Geshe Michael Roach, I find myself kind of floating emotionally in a soft cocoon. My head hums a bit, my chest alternates between tightness and the most clear and weightless expanse of breath I can ever remember having. Realizations and fear, regrets and hope all ebb and flow. It’s like having a misty aura pulsing around me. Very spiritual. Very new. Very different from the reactions to the texts I usually read and write about.

A current passage that has insinuated itself into my thoughts contains references to the dilemma of pride. Pride is especially troublesome when it has installed itself within a student and the master or teacher must find a way to refocus it. One of the pending titles for my blogging is Teaching People How to Learn. I still may use it later on, but for the moment it serves as a better example of the trajectory of this post rather than a guide for a separate entry. As the narrator tells us, pride must be hit or beaten with a figurative stick until it becomes “a healthy kind of confidence” ( 135). One holds onto pride jealously but confidence is flexible. It can be shaken, it can be restored, and it does not begrudge change.

Confidence is what many of us lack when we endeavor to write. Pride is what stops us from learning. Those of us that have allowed rejection letters or the disinterest of influential people or difficulty with insecure bosses  to define our worth have allowed a perception to dominate our overall sense of ability and worth. That is not to say that there is a ceiling to learning and that writing is a static medium. The negative must be analyzed closely to find the realities within that collapse of hope or momentum.

This leads me back to teaching people how to learn. I have students who go into throws of anxiety and confrontation when they get a C rather than the expected A (Read: grade earned for simply producing the work). I see them as people with potential to evolve if I can assist them in realizing that earlier grades came at earlier periods in their education. Perhaps the standards were lower as well–let’s be frank about that. Many do not know how to evolve from the platform they have rested upon and refuse to find that there is more work ahead. Their pride is blocking the growth of their knowledge base. I am the wall they hit or the stick that beats the barriers down if I can.

What overcomes the obstacles? Reading of course. The text is life. Each text is a portal into a new perspective on life as it was or is if you see it for its potential rather than only its concrete form. How Yoga Works teaches us that things are not “themselves” or, rather, don’t have an unyielding unchangeable identity. Our engagement with the world creates or molds the nature of what we behold and that nature “itself” is not static. Roach offers us an example when the narrator engages her jailor in a discussion about a bamboo pen on his desk. Is it a pen? To him, yes, but is it only a pen? He comes to realize that it is also  a tiny piece of nourishment: “I mean that impression, that sense of division is so strong . . . I simply never realized that I make the pen itself ; my mind takes the pen a pen, just as the cow’s mind draws the same green stick as something good to eat” (118).

Now, I don’t  believe that our perceptions are an illusion or that people do not create texts, art, or even meals in an unconscious state that only others can give concrete form to as they engage with them. We are not passive vessels nor are our accomplishments eradicated by lack of witnesses or missing accolades. What this text brings to me and what I take from my interaction with it is that we can change our perception so that pain and discomfort do not concretely define an experience. If someone is cruel, the unhappiness is real, but the root cause of our pain may be suppressed or veiled by the surface actions. What is truly cruel in the moment?  The actions or the causes of these?

For a non-spiritual on non-philosophical example, think of the “kick the dog” syndrome. Someone is raked across the coals by his unhappy boss who is looking for someone to abuse because his wife made nasty comments that morning. The employee, feeling victimized and powerless, then spits profanity at someone who accidentally bumps his arm causing hot coffee to burn his hand. The person soundly abused for an honest mistake cuts someone off at a turn feeling the need to assert her authority and presence. The person who narrowly misses hitting that car comes home shaking and, as the dog trips him in his glee at finally having someone to play with, kicks the animal for also being in the way.

These examples and questions are not meant to confuse your sense of order or make you doubt your eyes or heart. Doubt is not the goal. Doubt is real at the moment you feel it, but it should not be a  manipulative tool for preventing the emergence of self-assertion and confidence. The key here is that self assertion must be based in awareness and tempered by acceptance of the changeable nature of what Roach calls “universal powers” and of perception.

The text I am reading is life. What you are reading is life. As it should be? As you agree? Does it matter? We are experiencing the opportunity to learn and grow from the nourishment that is found in the narrative.

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Let’s Weigh in on Fan Fiction

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As I sat with a friend of mine on a recent evening, we started talking about these last posts about the Memoir and the subject turned to other genres that I had not spent time reflecting on. Then she said, “Write about fan fiction!” Hmmm, I don’t really know much about fan fiction actually but I am definitely in favor of any medium that gets writers writing and finding their own voice.

I actually have the button  you see pictured here. I used to work in a comic book store in Baltimore and we had these as promos for an issue of a Wolverine comic. It cracked me up in general but I never really thought about who the fans were and why they were dedicated enough to earn so much ribbing. After all, aren’t fans the only thing that keeps you in business?

When you think about it, we’ve all been inspired (or annoyed) by the authors we read when in school or that we found in our excursions to the library, or Amazon, or the bookstore (remember those?). I just never really thought about the concerted effort so many people have put in to developing entire stories and lives around existing characters. To write a vampire story is not new. To create an entirely new planet is not new. But to write about existing vampires or colonies in other universes is very curious to me. But I do know what it is to feel lost or lonely when a story or trilogy or some such ends. I have often missed some characters and wished they would return somehow. I remember when Anne McCaffrey died. I was faced with the end of her dragon riders. Even if she were not planning to do more with Pern, the possibility was open as long as she was here. Now, even with her son carrying on, it’s still not her. BUT this is where the fans come in right? They keep the legends and the people alive and offer a continuation of the world she created or let this one branch out to the next, much like the originators of Pern did when they arrived on this new planet. Why not stay in touch?

Basically, everyone has a story and it’s important to tell it. Is it for family? I have worked for year for my dear friend Ruth Wolf as she compiled a family history for her many grand and great-grandchildren. Is it for the public? An in-group of other avid fans of particular authors who all feel connected through particular stories? Is it for the love of writing alone and you allow what boils up from inside to guide you?

You are interesting. Whatever you want to write is up to you as long as you hone your craft and never feel that you are done learning and observing. If emulating a stye is what drives you to experiment, great. If writing fan fiction and staying within the existing world that another created rings true with you, great. Are you a Memoirist who shares your experiences for those who could learn from your life or be inspired by it? Great. Maybe your memoirs work for personal as well as professional goals.

It’s all what truly resonates within you and never let anyone tell you your choices are not marketable or timely. You decide what you create and then decide how it will live on. If you reach enough people, maybe your own tales will continue on when you’ve stopped or have moved on. So, write on Fan Boys and Girls!

Do They Have the Equivalent of 750words.com for Yoga Poses?

I am just a joiner I guess. I need to have a group to inspire me or some kind of location to go to. Just like I wrote yesterday about the kind of computer or environment I need for writing, I need a similar vibe for my yoga.

OK, call it avoidance, but if that were it, I’d never get myself out anywhere to write or practice. Isn’t it possible to be sensitive to your location? Really, when people say that money doesn’t buy happiness, I can only think that my hypothetical misery would ease if I were on the Riviera rather than skid row. I’m just sayin’ . . .

So, now that I have the wonderful new mat, I want to put it down in a space that “feels” open and relaxing–and that place is most often NOT my home. I love my home, and it is filled with wonderful pieces from many great artists we’ve known. My son’s art projects are incredibly beautiful to me. BUT I’ve very little floor space. Where I feel embraced and cozy when relaxing, I feel enclosed and restricted when trying to let the energy of the day direct me and my practice.

When I think about it, my weaving self is the same way. Only in this case, I learned to weave on looms in small spaces (small brownstone in Baltimore, small apartment in a booth at a Renaissance festival, a tiny space in my parents’ town house that barely fit the loom and my equipment). When I was able to put my loom in a larger space, I felt as if I were afloat in this vast openness and could not create. Even now, I have a large studio space for my weaving and felting, but I keep the smaller loom in the corner and my felting space is also tucked away.

So far, then, as I review this public therapy session, I think I’ll just get off of my own case and accept that environment is very much a key to how I practice, write, weave, felt, think . . .

Own it, right?

The Beauty of Community

The Community Story group just saw the May deadline for the latest prompt arrive and there were some great contributions to work with. The online presence was not as strong as hoped, but we know this will grow with time. We realized that sometimes people are reluctant to step in on something as traditionally sacrosanct as someone else’s story – incomplete or otherwise. It may take time for the online community to realize that this is their story too. In the mean time, the local gathering here in Flemington brainstormed some incredible storylines and will be taking the next 2 weeks to compare and contrast the possible trajectory and resolution of the narrative.

I found myself out of  my element last Friday as most everyone in the meeting leaned towards a kind of sci-fi or dystopian plotline. That is just not my forte. But that is the beauty of community writing. There is no one voice and there is no guarantee that you can stay in your comfort zone or allow yourself to stagnate. As these posts almost inevitably tie in to mindfulness and openness, you’ll not be surprised to read that once I accepted my feelings of insecurity and ineptitude in the face of a completely unexpected thematic focus and much more experienced writers of this kind of tale, a full page’s worth of text just flowed out of me in a matter of moments. What a thrill.

Another important gift that comes with openness and welcoming the muse or inspiration is that a kind of energy swells internally and warms you physically as well as emotionally. Breathing can become smoother and freer if you pay attention  the flow of your thoughts and even crave challenges. All things become fluid. Your talents and skills can only wither in the  vice that is avoidance and doubt.

It’s going to be a long two weeks waiting for our next gathering.

 

 

The Stress of the Business Battle vs. The Rewards of Defending Your Rights

While I generally hate the energy it takes to sustain a confrontation, I’m not one to shrink from defending what is right. Common courtesy is right. Good business practices are right. Ethical choices are right. Acknowledging mistakes is right. What is not right is to make someone have to push you in any of these directions.

I’m very frustrated right now and not really living my yoga practice as I must pursue someone who insists on using one of my business names. I predate this person by many years but, due to lack of good research or blatant disregard, she is still using the name. I really don’t wish her ill. She seems to do good work and I’m not one to bully a creative entity; but, really, must she use something already owned? Are there no other names available out there?

Let’s say she just did not pay attention. OK, no problem. Just “cease and desist” as they say and everyone is happy. But this is not the case and I am just simply unhappy having to get big and loud. I’ll do it if I have to, but why? Really? Think about it. There is plenty of room out there for many new stories, many new songs, brands for businesses, titles . . . Is it really necessary to make someone have to, well, fight you for a place in the world?

There is nothing good about spending this kind of energy on negative and unnecessary problems. As writers, we need to respect our predecessors, embrace our contemporaries. As business people, we need to put it on ourselves to create our own niche, not invade someone else’s. If we find ourselves embroiled in this sad but common problem, try to embrace some kind of grace and dignity in it. Even do your best to avoid putting your counterpart in a bad position. Hold your ground yes, but lets not make it all muddy.

Lost: L-dog. When last seen, quite strong and ready for hand stands. Reward offered.

This is not the first time I’ve written about a yoga pose that has eluded or plain left me for a time. Yes, lack of practice of a particular pose or series of poses does account for the weakness, but it is frustrating to regress. I call it a loss because it’s not as simple as just practicing again. It is a mind set as well as a muscle memory that needs to return. It is about relearning and not only rediscovering how the pose felt, but also about discovering a new strength and finesse.

When I realized I could not simply move into my L-dog the other day, it was humbling to say the least. I had a group of much younger women around me simply stepping up and staying put—no shaking arms or anything! I was struggling like I’d never done it before. The ole legs just didn’t have it. Still, I found something to take from my practice that day: don’t neglect anything you’ve learned. Don’t assume it all stays with you. Age is only one factor. Ability is another. The more adept you are at something, the more you might get away with neglecting your practice, but, eventually, the staleness shows.

As I watched some of the Olympics on TV, I saw the same dilemma for some of the athletes. Some simple or routine moves did not work out. Some of the skiers had terrible times. Speed skaters didn’t start fast. The weather was an issue and still is, I know, but that is part of what I am talking about. Messed up schedules, unexpected obstacles, stress, they all contribute to the level of performance of even elite competitors. How is it not going to be a problem if we amateurs or lower-level competitors don’t keep up the work?

For the writers who read this blog, take heed. This is a reminder that your writing chops need to be honed no matter what. Time off, stress, doubt, fear, you name it. They can stifle your efforts. Or, simple complacency can hobble you. My L-dog was curbed by the expectation that it would always respond when beckoned. Wrong. Nothing, not writing, not yoga, not any sport or skill can stay sharp and graceful without attention.

Practice—stay fresh, stay strong.

Does Your Vacuum Need to be Vacuumed?

When I reached to remove the canister from my vacuum, so I could empty it, I realized that the machine itself was covered in dust. I mean, really. Do I have to clean the cleaner? Well, I do wash the wash cloths and clean and replace toothbrushes. There are just some things that you figure are exempt from the process. Truthfully, the state of the vacuum is representative of how dedicated I am to my overall cleaning. Now that I’ve realized my negligence, it gets a wipe down too. In fact, when it looks bright and shiny, I want to reach for it more willingly.

This, of course, made me think about what else I was cutting corners on. I’ve been very ill this week and was not able to ride the horse I have come to have access to or go to yoga at all. Often these both make me feel better but I’ve been that sick. My face feels bruised when I lean over. My eyes are swollen to the point that I’m afraid my son will be scared to look at me. These days of missing my practice have made my body feel worse than the illness’ influence, and my psyche is definitely more fragile. I even had a bad people day. Didn’t have the compassion for any of us and gave up even communicating with anyone casually.

Now, taking the time to heal slowly and safely is not the same as intentional corner cutting, but this lack of flow really made me think about how off kilter other things must be. First thing to meet the magnifying glass was my writing practice. I have been procrastinating so much. I have two gigs to work on, a book proposal, and this blog on the burner. My literary vacuum is getting dusty. We must keep our intellectual and imaginative machines shiny. Not like new—writing gets better with age—–but like a well-cared-for necessary tool. Perhaps I should reflect on the state of my yoga mat or my saddle. Both looked so nice freshly purchased, but I slipped around a lot on both of them before they were broken in properly. Regular use changes this. The saddle molds to my body. The mat supports my poses. They become uniquely mine. This should be the same for writing. I may struggle with anything new or difficult but must persist until my own form affects the framework and melds with it.

Are You a Magnolia or a Milkweed?

Last spring, my yoga instructor, Allison Levine, was talking about the glorious blooms on the Magnolia tree outside her window. While the other trees and plants were taking their time waking up, this tree was already in the throws of spring exultation. This observation led to discussions of our own identities and inclinations. After a while we were trying to figure out what plant represented a different rhythm in the cycle of growth.  A mid-to-end-of-season species, Milkweed popped into my head. Now, it is not a fall plant like many crops, but it is a late summer bloom and one that brings fresh sweetness to the thick air of late July and August.

Some writers are Magnolias. They have these intense bursts of energy and crank out work speedily.  Others ruminate for periods of time and gradually produce their blossoms. I am definitely a Milkweed. I like the gradual progression of time to bring me into focus (or bloom). If I burst onto the scene ahead of the rest, I feel exposed and awkward. Perhaps I’m not a trend setter or a mover and shaker so much as a thoughtful observer. I’m my own breed (or species) but not a follower for certain. It’s important to identify which one you are so that no writing guides, blogs (ahem), or courses influence you to put your writing habits on the wrong timeline. However, I do recommend setting some kind of  goal and timeline. Otherwise you become like Camus’ character, Joseph Grand, in The Plague who perpetually rewrites the opening line of his novel, and never progresses beyond. This is not just a lack of deadline pressure for him, but a lack of connection to what he wants to express. Still, procrastination tends to reflect a lack of direction.  But what timeline and what goal you wish to meet needs to be something you know inside feels right. Your goals should fit like a soft pair of slippers that you look forward to settling in to. Some may think they are homely and need changing, while others like their coziness and envy your ability to relax into them.

Returning to the Magnolia/Milkweed analogy, I was just finishing Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane. Overall I like his work and I do think that his output has a nice rhythm, Not too much too fast, but we are not left waiting interminable months or years before he resurfaces. I think he is a Milkweed. I may be wrong. But even his voice caresses and his reading of his works smoothly flows forward without dynamic intensity. It is subtle and powerful. Just like the blooms and the fragrance of the Milkweed. I recently thought of him  when my friend’s 6 year old very primly informed me of the substantial size of her family’s flat screen TV. She was suffering through watching my standard television that I see no need to replace as long as it still does its job. She helpfully suggested that I give mine to someone so I could have a nice TV like hers. In that moment,  I realized that I am also disturbed by large flat screens in the home. It’s the void they represent. Think about it. You have a large black hole on your wall or on a cabinet. A large black nothing sitting passively but expectantly for you to activate it, much like the “varmints” in Gaiman’s book, tearing bits of the world away so that there is nothing but a kind of old fashioned TV static where life used to be. These large black square holes are much like the emptiness that these creatures, the hunger birds, inflict on the world until someone stops them. Do I want to eradicate a large space in my room? Absorb light instead of welcome it?

Not sure how all of the above connects together and to my theme of mind/body/spirit and the writing life? Teaching and learning? Well, my understanding of the many objects that surround and influence us and our relationship to them has matured as I continue to follow the path of awareness that regular reading and listening opens before me. Lacking the ability to truly observe and understand the inanimate world we create around us prevents our ability to describe and communicate it without images. Without the mindful community of yoga practitioners sharing their observations and inspirations with me, these thoughts would not have been initiated nor would they have taken root. It is not ourselves alone that bring forth our work. It is engagement with the world that fertilizes our imaginations and allows our ideas to germinate and grow into the particular plant, bush, or tree that is our writing selves. We cannot even become a Magnolia or a Milkweed without the entire process, the changing of the seasons and the insect and animal life  shall we say, that enables the entity to grow at all, much less healthily and to fulfill its role in a larger cycle. Random discussion among a discourse community, reading a talented and enigmatic author’s work, listening to a child’s reasoning, sitting with a seemingly irrational or unfounded discomfort with an appliance, writing and experimenting with your work and output—these all create a kind of compost to fertilize your talent and instigate growth patterns.

I am a Milkweed. I would not change this if I were offered the opportunity. I like the pom pom balls of blooms.  A gathering rather than a single bud. The memory of the beautiful spring Lilac’s scent is resurrected in late summer by this plant allowing the admirer to participate in two seasons at once.  I like the Monarch butterflies that rely on me (my students and readers) and enhance the setting with their fluttering contributions. I am ubiquitous. I reside in a world of small clusters of writers and practitioners rather than towering alone. Most importantly, I like to see the seeds of my work spread tangibly out into the world. I rely on the impetus of the wind to assist me (translation: openness to the universe’s rhythms). Be a Magnolia proudly if that is your style. Be the harbinger of beauty and renewed life and be exciting and bold. But don’t ignore the simple Milkweed in your literary horticulture. Look forward to its arrival.

How To Avoid Blogging: Have Something Difficult to Say

I’ve been looking at a pile of scribbled notes and dog-eared copies of The New Yorker for some time now. The issue of gun control has been weighing heavily on me, but I did not want to simply state my position or argue a point that many people may already have made many times over. It took a book on war to bring me around to what I’ve realized is the fundamental focus of my thoughts and my desire to write about this topic for other writers.

As many of you know, I’ve been very slowly going through How Yoga Works and reveling in the, well, revelations. My current mantra is “Plant the Seeds.” Yes, the title of one of my earlier blogs and directly related to that book. When I feel sad, or more importantly, overwhelmed and scared as I am prone to be, I pause my thoughts and say “plant the seeds.” Basically, just changing the thoughts but with the more important component of the new thought taking hold and growing into a more positive and fruitful behavior over the long run. I’m telling myself for the first time ever that nothing has to be the way I see it–at least not the negative. A challenge should be met, not eluded. OK, OK, enough, you get it already.

So, how do I go from How Yoga Works to addressing gun control as a moral and ethical requirement of us all? By reading Kill Anything that Moves: The Real American War in Vietnam by Nick Turse. Big change in content, huh? I have a long-standing interest in history, especially war. It began more as an interest in how the areas we now call specific countries have formed and changed over the centuries in direct relation to the wars waged on or by them.

When I imagine myself as a draft-age male in 20th century America, I especially shudder at the prospect of going to Vietnam. I have no doubt that I would not have survived. At least not intact. The more I know of that war, the more horrified I am by the volume of atrocity unleashed in an offensive measure. I’m not saying bombing Hiroshima was a righteous act, but let’s agree that the U.S. would not have had to face making the choice if the Germans, then the Japanese did not swing first. Feel free to disagree. My point is that I cannot really comprehend the disbelief that people have over the fight against gun control when texts like Kill Anything show us how absolutely disinterested our government has been in our well being before and how many soldiers were not appalled or horrified by the orders they received to “kill ’em all.” When you note how much lower on the scale of value women, children, and the elderly have been than the average male, the surprise should be even less. Rape is a weapon of war and that has been wielded as readily as guns and grenades. Now, anatomy is one thing. It is what it is. But we can limit access to extraneous weapons and punish the inappropriate use of both. Hunting and lovemaking really cannot be compared equally with slaughter and rape.

My yoga teacher reminds me often that we all have our own universe to manage. Not that we stand alone, but we can only tend to our own world. We can plant the seeds and try to help others tend to their own goals so that all of us work in conscious harmony, but “we cannot plant the seeds for others” as she likes to say. I really understand now what “everyone in their own time” means. So, the discussion of each person’s rights is what I keep coming back to. How is one person’s rights more important than the safety and rights of the whole? Let’s face it, I have the right to live, don’t you? If restricting gun ownership and the type of guns allowed in public means I have a greater chance of exercising my right to live, then what is the problem?

If you are wondering what my world is like–how I’ve come to my perspective—I’ll tell you. My husband and I are gun owners. My husband hunts. We don’t buy meat raised in the realms of agribusiness, but we’ve not gotten to the point of becoming vegetarians. We would rather do without though than buy a cellophane and Styrofoam package of questionable quality meat from a questionable source. We plant the seeds of ethical farming even if we have not–yet–gotten to the point of sparing some animal lives. Still, I have no problem having to restrict access to our guns if it means preventing someone from accidentally or purposely harming others. I would love to have a central armory where we have to house our weapons and sign them out. If you are not planning on committing  a crime, what’s the problem with structure? Your freedom? I have freedom too: To live safely. Really, most of the NRA types sound like kindergarteners who were absent the day they learned about sharing and taking turns. I mean, really, you HAVE to have 100 rounds in an automatic or semiautomatic weapon at arm’s length? Are you sure you are not planning on committing a crime?

The April 15th issue of The New Yorker, has an article in the “The Talk of the Town” section entitled “Shots in the Dark.” The main question here about stepping up to the plate about gun control seems to be about taking risks. Who is willing to stretch out his/her neck and stand up for common sense and the right for the rest of us to live? Perhaps we are being abandoned because some members of Congress are not willing to risk losing their seats in the next election? Perhaps the Senate would not uphold any substantial changes. They like the cushy lives that playing with the pro-gun boys support. The column mentions Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia’s position (of all people!): ‘[A] right to keep and carry any weapon whatsoever in any manner whatsoever and for whatever purpose’ is not how the Second Amendment should be read. It does not “confer” this unadulterated view of absolute freedom. Last I checked, absolute freedom from control was anarchy or, no, wait, infancy.

Is this a new ideology for me? No. One of my most vivid memories of my freshman year of college is unwaveringly arguing against the whole of my first-semester composition class the point that I did not mind stricter criminal laws if that kept the predators and other unsavory characters behind bars longer. I did not mind having to watch my own behavior if that meant others stayed in jail. Yet, the rest of the class wanted as much freedom as possible even if it meant less jail time, or none, for offenders. Wow. I mean, I’m not saying we need to live in a police state, but why is it so hard to be responsible for your own actions and look out for your neighbor? And, no, I’m not saying our justice system isn’t damaged, but let’s work on the whole, not just give up and let everyone run amok.

Bottom line: I’m willing to curtail some of my own freedoms in order to ensure that the bad seeds are thwarted as much as possible. I’m also for reading as much about as many things as possible so that my range of knowledge includes seemingly disparate subjects such as spirituality and war crimes.

Of course, nothing will end violence, but everything can be done to limit it and access to its most effective tools. No one can plant the seeds for cruel, troubled, or misguided souls, but we have to do our best to keep these people limited to small container gardens until they are ready to do their share. We don’t need a whole field of perennials setting the wrong seeds on the wind.