Author: Bev

Hope is an invitation; an invitation to fear that what I want, might not happen. The stoical antithesis to hope is to walk in the present, bringing now into greater focus.

They say the tone of a dream says a lot about what the dream means. Well, in a recent dream I was calm and matter-of-fact in the midst of a crisis. I’m guessing that the stoic, calm tone of the dream is probably a projection of what I wish I were like.

During the day before this night-time escapade, my husband and I talked briefly about a potential crisis we might face next week, given the trajectory of time. He responded to the possibility with his usual, “I guess we’ll deal with it with whatever resources we have when it comes, if it comes.”

I didn’t snipe at him which is what I’ve often done when I’m faced with a “what if” situation, and he’s calm, cool, and collected. I just said, “I wish I were stoical.” In the dream, I was.

My usual modus operandi with “what might happen if…” situations coming up next week is to project the worst case scenario and start problem-solving, now. That’s me. I’m problem-solving before there’s an actual problem.

How non-stoical can you be? I find it difficult to accept that I cannot control what might happen next week. I put up a valiant fight for what I hope will happen rather than accepting that some, probably most, of what may happen is out of my control.

I realize that one of the definitions of anxiety is projecting a scary outcome on some future occasion, which may turn out altogether different than my projection. Still, I suffer from thinking about what might happen.

I was a half-assed girl scout back in the day, but the one thing I retained from my girl scout days was, “be prepared.” I think I recall that “be prepared” was key to scouting for both boys and girls. At least that’s what I gleaned from the experience.

I’m all about preparation. If I’m not prepared, I’m frankly a little lost.

There are good things about being prepared. I read something somewhere, sometime about the strong bond between grandma’s and their grand-kiddos being associated with her taking the time to prepare for their visits with her, and the effects that preparation has on their tight relationship. Apparently her preparation makes a difference.

I also used to counsel former students who were afraid to give a speech, that if you prepare well, you can give a speech without paralyzing fear. Knowing your subject, organizing it rationally, and remaining confident that you are prepared, is key to successful public speaking.

Preparation has its drawbacks though. The process can be physically, mentally, and emotionally draining, exhausting even.

If you feel that you have to prepare for every contingency, you might be setting yourself up for anxiety, overthinking, and unnecessary suffering. Preparation can easily become a slippery slope.

So, my waking wish that I were more stoical, had me practicing its tenets in my dream. I was calm as a cucumber during the most chaotic event imaginable.

At the risk of oversharing my subconscious dirty laundry, I’ll give you the gist of my dream scenario. My husband and I with our older teenage daughter and tow-headed preteen son (we have no son) had been on a car trip to a favorite city in our vicinity.

On our way back we ended up driving through water which got deeper and deeper until we were driving no more and the car stopped running. We had to get out of the car and swim/walk through the water. We left my purse and all of our belongings in the sinking car. Then I saw buildings up ahead of us, and we knew we’d be able to get to safety.

We walked through a derelict part of town, confirming to each other that we’d walk until we found a place that looked approachable to ask for help. We ended up downtown in a gentrified shopping area. I sat calmly and stoically at a long table inside a mini-mall, with our son, who was present but silent, while our daughter went to the rest room and my husband searched out help.

Having inquired as to why I was soaking wet, I told a kind sixty-something woman, calmly and briefly what happened and that my husband was trying to find help to get our car, money, identification, and belongings out of the river below town. I started to awaken from the dream at this point but lucidly imagined that this unassuming woman was someone of influence and could somehow help us through this crisis.

So how’s that for enduring an unavoidable, stressful reality, stoically? Perhaps my wish for rational calm while dwelling in a mind that would studiously prefer to predict the outcome and panic, is a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy or wish-fulfillment.

Do you think my subconscious was practicing raw, rational calm in my dream? Maybe I was rehearsing for the part of a stoic.

Given the merits of each approach, attaining a better balance between preparation and acceptance, is my goal. I’m thankful for my dreams, which truly help to focus my waking thoughts.

I’m determined to defer hoping for a time and begin to sit down with my week ahead, notably with my calendar, and ask myself one question, “what in this upcoming week can I control now,” and do that. If I can control the events of the first day of the week, then hallelujah, day one is conquered. Then, a forward I will go in faith, prepared and accepting.

Are you self-aware? Do you consciously observe your own internal state? Are you one of those folks who recognizes and understands, to an extent, your own thoughts, emotions, strengths, and weaknesses? If you can answer in the affirmative to these questions, you’re self-aware.

When you say, “I know what you’re going through,” or “I’ve been there,” I think you mean it. You’ve absorbed the emotions associated with the circumstances of others, and can say, “I feel your pain.” Your situations may not translate exactly, but your emotions cross over the boundary of exactitude.

Self-awareness allows one to project what you know about your own internal goings-on, to what might be going on with others. It’s called empathy.

Taking this a step further, if you know how it feels to be sad, left out, wronged, delighted, surprised, or enlightened, in other words, self-aware; then theoretically you can “know how you feel,” and extend compassion and understanding toward anyone else. In other words, you’re empathetic toward them. It takes self-awareness to be empathetic, you can’t be one without the other.

You might ask, what do self-awareness and empathy have to do with feedback, the topic of this article? Well, let me start with a Dictionary.com definition of feedback from a cultural perspective, where feedback is “a process in which a system regulates itself by monitoring its own output. That is, it ‘feeds back’ part of its output to itself….feedback is used to control, monitor and adjust its output.”

Self-aware and empathetic people need feedback in order to control what they put out there in the future. It’s not as simplistic as people-pleasing, which is a no-no toward well-being. If you’re self-controlled and self-aware, you don’t need wholly to please others with your output, you need to feed yourself first.

We need to be self-satisfied first, before it’s helpful to obtain feedback from someone else. It’s kind of like loving and understanding yourself before seeking a partner to “complete” you.

There’s some popular wisdom out there that perpetuates the thought that when you’re older, you don’t really need feedback anymore. You’re not supposed to care what other people think of you, your business, your personality, or lifestyle.

I’m not so sure that’s the way it is. I do know that as I get older, I have a lower tolerance for run-of-the-mill, day-to-day BS.

But, in my opinion, genuine, personal feedback about work that you fulfill, kindnesses that you extend, people whom you help, that kind of feedback doesn’t grow old. I’m talking about personal acknowledgment and appreciation for who we uniquely are and what we do.

Form letter, watered down, thank you’s, for me are akin to adding an habitual “have a nice day,” at the end of an insult. I guess a pay-check is a certain kind of feedback; as are sales for the self-employed. But, to me, a psychologically genuine comment of appreciation is needed more often in today’s hustle and bustle in the marketplace.

My husband has the kindest habit of asking the name of service personnel as we go out and about living our lives. He may or may not forget that person’s name, but he genuinely wants to acknowledge that they’ve been seen, at least in that moment. As an aside, most of these people are a bit wary, when he asks their name, thinking they’re in trouble or going to get “reported” for some such sin. He genuinely surprises them when he laughs and says,”it’s nice to have met you, (repeating their name).”

For a few weeks, since I saw a quote on social media, I’ve been ruminating about it. It is this: “the highest form of peace is having no desire to be seen, validated or understood by anyone.” We all want to live in peace, so this is a mouth-watering philosophy.

To want to be noticed, affirmed and understood, and to be left wanting, is painful. Effort without reward is a hard kind of work.

So, I get the temptation to try to adopt existential philosophies, especially the ones that are watered down through the simplistic sieve of social media. However, the quote mentioned above originates in some form with the French philosopher, Simone de Beauvoir, and frankly seems completely self-centered, even narcissistic, in a world full of social and relational humans who need feedback.

The philosophy of existentialism, highlights personal freedom in an absurd world where we’re too often driven by the opinions of others. Existentialism attempts to eliminate the anxiety of people-pleasing by giving back to the individual, control over one’s own well-being without relying on the input of others.

But I think, since so much political and social division controls the environment in our country nowadays, we would benefit from coming back to a philosophical medium ground. How do we do that?

Perhaps we could be self-aware but not self-centered. Be aware of the needs of others without their needs controlling us. Acknowledge that we want to be understood as a prerequisite for connection or community. Learn how to encourage ourselves when external approval and social confirmation is lacking.

In our business letters, I usually add a closing remark something like, “Thank you for your business, we appreciate you.” You might be surprised to hear that quite a few colleagues and clients notice that simple but genuine note of thanks. It is my firm belief that people need to be seen as unique and valued.

I appreciate you, all of you. Thank you for reading.

My reaction to negative news is not exactly “zen.” I’m self-aware enough to know that a negative reaction to a negative situation is not helpful, to say the least.

When I’m faced with a stressful situation, I respond. This, according to mental health wisdom, is my first mistake.

It’s always seemed to me that a response is needed when you get hit with some sort of negative influence. But, the longer I live, I’m thinking that it’s not doing me a great deal of good to react quickly to stressful input.

It’s just not “kosher” to react to negative events in anger or even annoyance. I’m not Jewish, but as a Christian, mindful of our Jewish roots, I learned a Jewish word, helpful when I’m faced with negativity. It’s “Selah.” It means to “pause and think about this.”

We’ve all heard of the infamous, “gut reaction.” My understanding of such a reaction is that it’s when you act almost instinctively to something coming at you from the outside world. You respond without thinking.

However, I vaguely remember from my ethereal academic past that one of the characteristics which make humans “higher animals” is that we are mindful rather than instinctual. We are theoretically better than our gut instincts. We should really take a think break before responding to any major input.

I’d prefer to selah, but I don’t always do it. As crude as it sounds, and I don’t like the phrase so much, but it describes accurately how I react to negative input, or a typical Monday; I get “pissed off” and I yell.

I’m surmising that our usual gut reaction is the total opposite of the mindfulness of Buddhism, the selah of Judaism, and the calm acceptance of “it is what it is” of modern mental health wisdom. One of the definitions of reaction is “an action in a reverse direction or a reverse movement.”

Do I want to be moving in reverse? If that’s what a reaction is, I’m not so sure I want it.

I have problems with the whole concept of reverse. I get totally discombobulated with the reverse gear on every lawn tractor I’ve operated. Seriously, I’ll go around in circles before I’ll try the over-complicated reverse gear.

When I think of going in reverse, I think of vehicles and the rear-view mirror. There is a saying about the rear-view mirror that serves as a metaphor regarding perspective. “The windshield is bigger than the rear-view mirror because where you are going is far more important than what you are leaving behind.”

Do I want to go back? No, I do not.

My husband once had a comical reaction to our British rental car. He exclaimed, “it has no reverse!” His immediate response to the complicated right-seat driver, left-hand gear shift, was shear panic. We laugh now, but it was terrifying then. However, he was brave enough to chauffeur our daughter and me through seven countries in Europe using that wildly unfamiliar vehicle with “no reverse.”

Lord knows, I have plenty of opportunities to practice the pause. But, unlike all of you perfect people out there, I don’t take advantage of all of my opportunities. I react. You know they say that “practice makes perfect,” so there is hope for me yet.

Like Quick Draw McGraw from the 1959 animated television series of the same name, I react prematurely to situations and sometimes come out of it looking inept or foolish, if not to others, than to myself. In the TV show, the anthropomorphized horse, sheriff character, is confident and well-intentioned but dim-witted. A quick-draw reaction is never pretty and it might just make one a horses (expletive), if you know what I mean.

I can confidently say that when I step back for a moment from stressful Monday morning input, I gain perspective. My instant responses are often tempered, not always totally changed, but softened after I take a bit of a pause.

I’m grateful that my quick reactions to negative events are usually private or shared only with my husband-partner. That way, I’m able to regain perspective before anything is “recorded in the books,” so to speak.

The ancient phrase, “look before you leap” comes to mind. It is a tenet of emotional intelligence and good communication to “think before you speak.” Taking it a bit further is the topic of this treatise – “pause before you react.”

I’m trying. I’d really like to earn the “higher animal” designation and stop reacting to negativity. God help me.

A homemaker can be anyone who makes a home. I imagine there are plenty of people who live in some form of a residence but do not make an effort to make that place a home.

Let me be clear that a residence is a physical building. A home is the emotional and psychological experience of living in a place.

Homemakers make their dwelling a home, often through invisible work. Much of a homemakers work in maintaining a home is felt but not always seen or noticed.

For example, while my fellow homemaker was relaxing on the deck, I cleaned the filter in, and filled the cat water fountain with clean, filtered water. I also cleaned the mat and the corner where our cat’s water fountain sits. I’m not sure those gestures will be noticed by my house-mate nor said cat for whom the effort was made.

Are you aware that many a homemaker “processes” groceries? I’m aware that some homemakers simply shove the refrigerated foods into the refrigerator or freezer, job done. But, I’m one who processes food on its way to storage.

For example, I cut raw broccoli heads into florets and store them inside a slide-lock bag with a paper towel inside. Then, I squeeze the air out as much as possible, zip, then store in the refrigerator. I do something similar with raw spinach. This is sous chef behavior, I’ll have you know.

Preparing for visits from my grand-toddler, I buy berries and process them. I wash raspberries, blueberries, and cut up strawberries, put them into a container with a paper towel in the bottom, and they’re ready to grab and include on a “plate” of finger foods that he likes. I also prepare bacon ahead of time, microwaving it in batches, cut it into snack size bites, and “voile,” finger food.

I’m sure my grand-toddler doesn’t notice the work that goes into his meal-prep, but I’m just as sure that he feels it when gammy pulls a plate of his favorite finger foods out of the fridge. Not noticed, but felt.

Did anybody notice that I changed the empty paper towel roll and the tissues, with one left in the box? This homemaker is the one who put “hand soap” on the list because there are no replacements in the bathroom cupboard.

I’m the homemaker who trooped outside, step-stool in hand, to tape some foil temporarily on our front windows to keep that highly annoying male cardinal from beating himself up over his reflection, and from making these home-dwellers completely crazy. I also prepared a box of dirt with mini-excavators and trucks in it, for my grand-toddler to play with even on rainy days on the front porch. Maybe I’ll put flowers in the planter this year or maybe I won’t, but I’ll always have that beautiful soul brightening my days.

This homemaker likes tidiness, order, and nice things as much as the next homemaker. Well, maybe I like these things more or less than other homemakers. But, I totally value the souls who come and go from our home so much more than the structure which welcomes them. So in my list of priorities, I will value the souls over the stuff any day and if tidiness, order and nice things must suffer, suffer they must.

I make the bed. I fold the laundry. These things may not matter to you and good for you if they don’t. But, they matter to me. I appreciate the order that they bring to our home and my house-mate appreciates that they give me peace of mind. I’m not sure he cares about either of those chores, but he appreciates me for doing them. That makes all the difference.

I sort garbage. I know, that seems a little bit obsessive. However, my mom did it and I don’t know if that means something, but I do it too.

We recycle aluminum cans, placed into a designated bin. We re-use our plastic grocery bags and all clean plastic wrapping as packing material for shipping items for our business. We recycle glass, plastic, and steel containers as well as redacted junk mail. We burn paper. We compost vegetable food waste. Once in a while, we send everything else with the trash hauler.

I clean once in a while, not obsessively but not never. I am always sorting stuff. Clothing and household items pop up that are not worn or used and must be donated to someone who wants such things, and which have become clutter to me.

Having a small house, this homemaker is constantly storing and retrieving seasonal items. As everyone in these parts knows, this spring has been a merry-go-round of weather variations. A few weeks ago we had a taste of summer so much so, that I cleaned the fireplace and all of its accoutrements, thinking that winter was done and dusted. Then, we had a week of freezing weather, and this frenzied and cold homemaker pulled all the fireplace gear back out of its hidey-hole, including the todder-safety gate. At least I remembered where I put them this year.

It is not unfair to say that a lot of homemaking involves invisible work. It’s almost like magic that so much gets done around the house, without a thought of the sacrificial effort put into it.

However, many a homemaker has a partner who doesn’t always notice your homemaking magic. But he or she feels it. They know their unconscious comfort and ease, wasn’t provided for by fairies.

My partner, is one who verbalizes his appreciation for my homemaking effort. Sometimes, I remind him of some of the invisible work that I’ve done and he’s quick to thank me and applaud my willingness to do what he didn’t think to do. Would that we would all be so blessed for homemaking partnership.

As wicked as she was, you may feel a bit sorry for the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz, when she cried, “I’m melting,” into a green and black puddle. It’s sad to become nothing, from something.

Melting, shrinking, disappearing, aging, all have a tinge of farewell to them. Sometimes you just don’t want to bid adieu to what was. Then reality hits and the best way to say goodbye to what was is to celebrate what is. This may take the shape of a pity party.

“Pity me, I’m shrinking.” Mind you, I was never tall and that was just a fact that I accepted. For years, as an adult, I measured five foot four inches at the doctor’s office. Then, all of a sudden my height was undoubtedly five foot one. What?

The thing is, I feel shorter, even diminutive, at times. Standing next to my grown daughter who is also not tall, I feel shorter than before. My husband feels taller than he used to, when we stand side-by-side; although he’s shorter as well.

Feeling shorter and feeling older are not exactly synonymous, but me thinks they’re related. Compared to someone younger and taller, I somehow feel less than, rather than equal to, if you get my drift.

Don’t get me started on the BMI index and what that dastardly number makes of my shrinking stature. Oh, and the maddening occasional message from my fitness tracker, “you’ve been at risk of undertraining recently, are you ready to get back on track?”

“It’s called rest,” I scream at that animated device on my wrist! I can’t win with that thing. One day I will do an insane amount of yard work and it yells at me for overtraining So the next day I simply take a long walk and call it a day. It chastises me for not doing enough.

Having studied human development, I’m comforted by the fact that we’re aging from the moment we’re born. However, aging takes on a life of its own when one passes a certain double digit number in age, the exact number which of course differs for individuals.

Some people feel “senior” at 60, others at 70, 80, or not until 90. But I wonder when exactly one feels shorter? Science documents that it may begin at 40 and accelerates at 70.

Many a shrinking spine has bellowed at a toddler’s plea to “play with me on the floor.” When any X-ray interpretation of your torso includes, “degenerative disc,” in your spine, you know you’re shrinking.

I digress, egress or in some way divert my thoughts for a moment, to the concept of sin. Not sins, as in personal shortcomings from a divine standard, but universal sin.

From the Adam and Eve narrative, marking the beginning of time, sin entered the world and it remains our battle for all time. Sin is in the world and we either recognize it and deal with it or we ignore it and deal with it.

However, “love covers sin.” From I Peter, my favorite scripture says we’re covered. We can overcome all that’s amiss in the world if we can but harness love.

So many of the negative aspects of aging are associated with an inherited state of brokenness present in the world. It’s not our fault.

It’s my opinion that it’s not wrong to complain about those aspects of aging that are hard to accept. I mean, people have been complaining about just about every life stage since we emerged from the womb.

Toddlers complain that they want to “do it myself.” Children can’t wait to be teenagers. Teenagers just want to be left alone to do their thing. Young adults have discovered that “adulting” is hard. Middle aged folks have the “spread,” and “midlife crises” to complain about. It’s all part of the human development pity party.

Older adults have aches and pains that seemed to have just started sometime yesterday, we don’t know exactly when. And the disappearing fluid that our joints used to swim in, irritates the heck out of our knees, hips, and spine. Adding insult to injury, our skin, nails and hair are dry, and we’re shorter.

Please don’t rub it in by telling me that you’re the one in a million who is “growing old gracefully.” I concur with you that it’s true and valid that growing old even with all of its challenges is so very much better than the alternative.

Socially, however, we try to counter our natural aging process with hair color, lotions and potions, hip clothes, young-slang, fillers and shots to counter wrinkles and the thickening of our bodies.

So, complain away. But please don’t get bogged down by your complaints or use them as excuses for entitlement or a free pass to whatever you want out of life. We’re conflicted about whether we like or don’t like aging. Maybe it’s just not an either/or situation.

I think it’s okay to have a blooming pity party, celebrating getting older. And please don’t let nary a whisper of the word, “senior” be uttered at my pity party. It seems condescending, like calling a toddler, an infant – “no thank you,” to borrow a phrase from my toddler friends.

I have a pet peeve when a full-fledged older person is treated like a child, talked to like a child, or made to feel childish. We’ve all earned our age. We should be treated with respect for having gotten to this stage, no matter which one it is.

As it turns out, aging is kind of cool when your body, or your fitness tracker, isn’t screaming some sort of new and crazy obscenity at you or accusing you that you’re doing something, or not doing enough, to cause this mess. I guess the mantra of we aged persons, should be to “embrace the mess.” Go ahead and have a fabulous pity party.

We might be living in a world of sin, but we can live in it without living of it. We’re overcomers, each and every one of us who have aged a little bit and been covered again and again, with love.

If I had done this rather than that… If I had moved there instead of here… If I had partnered with that one in place of this one… If I had taken that job in lieu of the other one… What if I had chosen differently? Who would I be today?

Many years ago I remember thinking it might be fun to play a party game called, “If.” It was intended as an icebreaker or getting-to-know-you kind of game for adults. I think the gist was to ask the group open-ended questions, like, “If, blank, then, blank…” encouraging creative, fun answers.

I’ve been pondering the “butterfly effect.” Put in simple terms, the “butterfly effect,” coined by meteorologist, Edward Lorenz in 1972, explains that something seemingly as minor as a butterfly fluttering its wings in Brazil, can inexplicably cause or prevent something large-scale like a tornado in Texas.

I’m not a hard scientist nor particularly sciency-minded, so I apply the “butterfly effect,” from science’s chaos theory to social psychology, where a minor action like a choice made long ago theoretically altered the personal or social consequences we live with today. I’m reminded by the iconic line often uttered by the Steve Urkel character in the early 90s television show, Family Matters, “did I do that?”

Then, of course, since I also float toward Christian spirituality in all things, I thought of how much of today’s effects are designed by God. Is God the ultimate Architect of one’s destiny?

I’ve not always been comfortable with the “let go and let God” philosophy. I like a certain amount of control. I prefer to think that I’ve made some pretty wise life decisions gleaned from having a sound mind and sharp enough intellect to get by without destroying my own life or that of others in my vicinity.

I’m cool with God deciding my overall destiny since it’s my belief that I also have free will in the bulk of the little stuff along the way. God, in His almightiness, allows us to live the “butterfly effect.”

The Bible says we have free will, which sometimes acts to our detriment and perhaps we wish He’d take the wheel, as some vague country song lyric running around in my head, suggests. But most of the time the “butterfly effect,” has worked out okay for me.

I’ve been contentedly married for nearly forty-six years to a man who I’m certain God put in front of me at a certain bank teller window in 1979. I gave birth via c-section to a baby girl in 1990. It wasn’t according to my home-birth plan, but we got the girl we never dreamed of but the one beyond our dreams.

We have lived in parts south and west in the United States. It wasn’t Africa or Germany which were both on the table. However, we were called to specific places filled with people whom we needed to meet and mix with, learn from and teach.

Before the first century AD, Roman Stoic philosopher, Seneca said, “Fate leads the willing and drags along the reluctant.” I’m reminded by the Doris Day 1956 song, “Que Sera, Sera,” whatever will be, will be, which displays a similar philosophy about fate, or destiny. Also, the familiar, “it is what it is,” is a thoroughly modern understanding of Seneca.

I don’t always think life is about cause and effect. I’m more of a correlation kind of girl. Having been trained in social science, I could relate to correlational outcomes rather than the rare but occasional absolute cause and effect proven by multiple experiments.

It’s my educated opinion that tons of stuff in life are correlated or related, but whether one thing has definitively caused the other is questionable, to me. I’m aware in many evangelical Christian communities, the “sow and reap” example is rife with misinterpretation and judgment.

It is my experience lived, that you rarely sow and reap directly. And, most evangelicals will admit that sometimes, you reap a much bigger harvest from a seed sown, than you expected. Weeds, mixed into the soil don’t always explain the wonky harvest you must gather when the time comes for picking the fruit.

Or, your harvest is continually weak even after sowing batches and batches of seeds, watering, fertilizing, facing the sun, and expecting something resembling the seeds sown, from your effort. Is this fate? Or, is it a wait and see moment?

So, back to butterflies. These critters are pretty close to being one of the more magical of nature’s progeny. They start out as lowly caterpillars and transform into something of fleeting beauty that inspire us all.

I think it’s funny, and so utterly human that Lorenz, the “butterfly effect” meteorologist, didn’t use the butterfly metaphor in 1961 when he was first formulating his theory. He used a seagull but was convinced by Philip Merilees to switch his example to the more poetic or romantic butterfly instead.

Interestingly, all kinds of the smallest of things effecting massive changes have been used to explain the “butterfly effect.” Removing a single grain of sand may actually change the immeasurable whole of the ocean bed; a single electron and an avalanche; an altered future from treading on a butterfly in the past; the flap of a housefly’s wings effects atmospheric winds around the world, etc.

What is your “butterfly effect?” I will always rely on the Edward Hale quote, “I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.”

Edward Hale, a nineteenth century American author, minister, and social reformer, also served as Chaplain in the United States Senate from 1903-1909. Poignantly, Hale wrote a, now classic work of fiction, called “The Man Without a Country.” Americans should listen up. Dying in exile after committing treason, the main character in Hale’s book, learned too late, the value of the country he denounced.

I’ve visited a few other countries and dream of visiting some more. But, my conclusion is, they all have positive and negative aspects and are a joy to visit. Home, is, however, home, and home is good.

Wouldn’t it be cool to start a homeland-positive, non-political “butterfly effect,” here in America, and see where that takes us. It couldn’t hurt. I’m reminded of the 1848 Shaker hymn, Simple Gifts, where freedom comes with a humble, simple life of gratitude and finding ourselves in a “place just right.”

When playing a game on my cell phone, an ad came up for another game. The ad claimed that it was an incredibly relaxing game. Then it said that only people with an IQ over 130 can win said game.

I said to myself, “wow, this ad appeals to one’s vanity. The only reason for downloading that game would be to prove to yourself that you’re brilliant enough to win it and be relaxed in doing so. I’m one of the few with a high enough IQ to win it handily.”

I’m reminded of the 1970s Carly Simon hit, “You’re So Vain,”…”you probably think this song is about you, you’re so vain.” Are you singing it with me?

There is a thing in book publishing called a Vanity Press. In a nutshell, an author pays a publisher to publish their book. Why do you suppose it’s specifically called a Vanity Press?

The concept of vanity is associated with personal pride, ego and a desire to be seen for being special in some way. Renowned eighteenth century English novelist, Jane Austen, famously said that pride relates to our opinion of ourselves, vanity speaks to what we would have others think of us.

Austen spoke of vanity a long time before social media took over the subject. Today, we live out our vanity through social media, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and the like. The entire reason for the existence of these platforms is to be seen by others as admirable in one way or another. They are jealousy-making tools, which back in the day we called, “dig me” avenues for fueling our self-esteem.

Today there is a whole category of humans who rake in billions of dollars making us admire, even reverence, them. “Influencers” make us want to be like them, and we think we can, because of advertising. Advertisers love the idea of appealing to the vanity of consumers. It sells products.

Everybody must naturally want to feel special because advertising keeps the capitalist circle spinning at an enormously rapid and costly pace. We spend, spend and spend some more in order to keep that feeling of being special, fueled.

Has capitalism made us all into “special-craving,” narcissists? We seem to hear a lot these days about narcissists. Just who are these folks?

Is anybody ever officially diagnosed with narcissism? Or is it a pop culture label for the bad guy in a co-dependent relationship?

Narcissists are characterized by grandiosity, exaggerating their achievements and talents; believing they are entitled to favor; using others to achieve their goals; lacking empathy toward others; and consumed by envy, both incoming and outgoing.

I wonder if we’re hearing more about narcissism in these times because we’re creating more narcissists through our culture? Are we making people think too highly of themselves through advertising and other moneymaking (capitalistic) systems?

It used to be standard thinking that you can’t buy love or respect and other such things. But, we can see daily that people try to buy anything and everything and if they’re prevented from doing so they resort to stealing it, cheating to get it, or counterfeiting it.

I’m thinking of another oldie song, “you can’t hurry love, you’ll just have to wait; love don’t come easy, it’s a game of give and take….” (The Supremes, 1966 Motown). Oh, as if waiting for anything is even possible in the internet age, when I can just pay someone to like me, love me, and shout it loudly all over the internet.

The Greek myth of Narcissus tells about a young man who fell in love with his own reflection in a pond. He ultimately dies because he cannot possess his image. It’s no wonder that quite a few more men than women are diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Narcissus being a male and all.

In all fairness, I’m guessing that what with cosmetics being a multi-billion dollar female-dominated industry, women spend more time in front of a vanity mirror than Narcissus’ progeny spends staring into a pond at their reflection. But, I don’t know.

So, if you think this column is about you, or me, or some other Narcissist that you know, perhaps you should contemplate these final cautionary tales, especially the last one. The first quote is from The Old Testament Book of Ecclesiastes, “vanity of vanities; all is vanity,” reflecting on the fleeting and meaningless pursuit of pleasure, possessions, wealth, and intelligence versus laboring toward spiritual wholeness.

“Pride goeth before a fall” (KJV of Proverbs 16:18);

“Vanity working on a weak head, produces every sort of mischief,” (Jane Austen);

“Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others.” (William Shakespeare);

“Where there is emulation, there will be vanity; where there is vanity, there will be folly.” (Samuel Johnson AKA Mark Twain);

“How vain, without the merit, is the name.” (Homer);

“We are so vain that we even care for the opinion of those we don’t care for.” (Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach);

“Even in a time of elephantine vanity and greed, one never has to look far to see the campfires of gentle people.” (Garrison Keillor).

So if we look for it, we’ll see beyond the superficial schemes of advertising and influence, to find simple, gentle, benevolent light in more faces and places than we imagined. Let’s cast our eagle eyes far and wide toward what’s good, admirable, true, just, excellent, pure, lovely, and worthy of praise (Philippians 4:8).