Point: Counterpoint - Eddy Hong's Brave New World

Point: Counterpoint

Eddy Hong’s Brave New World

dedicated to Eddy Hong, my FB friend

Point: About you

Risk taker

snake wrestler

shadow boxer

truth telling confessor

of all things hard and personal

personal and hard

I admire your take no prisoners stance

on podcast and Facebook

You’re humble

just not too humble

scared but not too scared

muscling up now

for the long haul

I’m just sayin

Ya gotta start somewhere

‘n now is sometime

cyberspace da somewhere

way ov’r da rainbow

da crazy blinkin rainbow

da place for yous

cuz I’m too far down da road

tripping down da yeller brick

to be of use to yous anytime further

Counterpoint: About me

Man! It eff’in fucked ta wake up

‘n realize I’m old

It’s da hands that give me away

an old person’s hands

Da white hair adds drama

a sexy kinda dramatic flair

But da hands

fluttering und’r da sun so many decades

give me away

like I ain’t ne’er been given away before

Fear is learned

and experience burns

wrinkles into my heartsoul

No regrets, my friend

maybe a few hiccups

of hesitation at the memories

pauses for reflection

reflection and forgetting

Oh, man, did I really do that

did I really say that

did I really mean that

I’m afraid I really did

I really did all that

and more

I’m sayin

In my time

my peeps loved my bravado

cheered ‘n clapped

enuf to propel

da wave of resistance

to win da war

in da workplace

‘n da homefront

sacrificin only da captain

exiled into another life

on another continent

It may as well hab been da moon

I wasn’t of use ta them anymore either

This is what it feels like to be used up

for a reason

in a season

but not forev’r

Ya learn ta reinvent y’self

becuz ya gotta

becuz it’s survival

becuz it’s what we do, man

My relations:

It’s who we are, man

Point: About you

You’re learning not to blink

your gaze direct

man to man, person to person

your inward gaze an X-ray

into the interstices

of sinew and blood relations

Boy, I’m just askin

where did that little smile

in da corner of yer mouth

come from

How’d ja learn ta stare

into the camera that way

Was it from talkin to yer ma

Was it from talkin to yer ba

Counterpoint: About me

From my ba

I learned what to do

and how to do it

From my ma

I learned what to resist

and how to avoid it

The yin and the yang

The parent I adored

and the one who survived

The lesson here:

You don’t get to choose

I’m just sayin

Is anybody listenin?

[Check out Edward Hong's podcast for the I Am Korean American blog site at http://bit.ly/gRlwrW or here:

I am proud to call this young Asian American my friend. I'm sure we'll see more of Eddy as poet, performer and actor.]

Aspiring to Kindness

“Guard well within yourself that treasure: kindness. Know how to give without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness.” - George Sand, French novelist

There are many movies and TV shows that I choose not to watch, not merely because of their genre. Horror films and most vampire movies just aren’t my thing. And as much as my husband and daughter enjoy Dexter about a serial killer who kills horrible people, I can’t quite wrap my sensibilities around a TV series featuring a serial killer of any stripe. But the most overriding reason that I choose not to watch certain films or shows is because they are mean-spirited.

I’m not a goody two shoes by any stretch of anyone’s imagination. I have my share of angry, vengeful thoughts about people who have done me or my family wrong or who are just plain stupid in the face of chances to do helpful rather than hindering things. Hubby Herb and I often say, “Where is a firestarter when you need one,” referring to Drew Barrymore’s child star turn in a 1984 film called Firestarter. I have to admit it’s fun to imagine throwing fireballs with my mind and satisfying to think of them hitting their marks.

But mean-spirited behavior as an excuse for comedy turns me off. I do not find the Mrs. Doubtfire’s of the world endearing under any circumstances. Excusing and forgiving bad behavior in a film or novel can be justified when the writing brings you to a denouement deriving from the conversion experiences of the protagonists. That journey is worth following, sometimes even inspiring. However, excusing bad behavior because it’s presented as endearingly comedic just leaves me cold. I don’t get it. Why is bad behavior in the form of making someone else’s life miserable, causing them tons of trouble, supposed to endear the perpetrator to the observer?

I can no longer remember the triggering event, or even if there was one, in my early thirties that caused me to decide to become a good person. I hadn’t been a bad person before that period, but I experienced a rebirth of sorts, a metanoia, where I made a decision to walk down a path that I called “being a good person.” For me, that transition was about a reordering of my life priorities. My emphases changed, and my life opened up. It was in that time period that I stopped having specific goals in my life about achieving more, like getting married again (this was B.H., before Herb) or targeting a rung on the career ladder.

I had somehow refocused on being in the moment. And the psychic space around me opened up into a universe of possibilities. The opportunities for dating and the suitors knocking on my door multiplied. My interactions with my staff and customers blossomed into mentoring relationships and long-term friendships. Perhaps the universe of possibilities had always been there, and I only needed emotionally to stand still and feel safe long enough to smell the proverbial roses. I think one way of looking at that time period might be to say that I had embraced, in the Buddhist tradition, an attitude of lovingkindness and mindfulness towards myself.

The very first lesson I ever learned from Ani Pema Chödrön was an admonition to stop doing violence to oneself, to stop the seemingly endless negativity towards oneself of girls with well developed guilt reflexes. Lovingkindness begins with the self and empowers the individual to expand it out into the world. Emotional security is about feeling safe not just from outside influences that scare and harm, but also from internal thoughts that do the same. I’m still not very good at lovingkindness to myself, and I need regular reminders.

A few years ago, I had lost (or had stolen) a new pair of expensive prescription glasses and a camera used for work and couldn’t bring myself to get past punishing myself by not replacing them. I was telling my priest that story one Sunday when he, very seriously, said to me, “You’re forgiven, Lee,” making the sign of the cross before me, “now go get yourself a new pair of glasses.” I’m so grateful when the people around me remind me that I am forgiven, that I am entitled to kindness in my life, and that it’s when I experience kindness towards me that I can then extend kindness towards everyone else.

I used to aspire to being known as smart. Now, I’m delighted when someone says that I’m kind. I’ll take kindness over being smart every time.

Christmas Thoughts

I don’t know about you, but this holiday season, which I have purposefully trimmed of excess activities, is still too busy, stressful and filled with physical and mental running around. I have bravely said No to kind invitations to socialize. I have shrugged off the vague obligations, recognizing that I don’t owe anyone an excuse for why I choose not to do something. Shouldn’t “I don’t want to” and “I’m going to be busy keeping myself company” be sufficient reasons to avoid unwanted activities?

I had to go into town (Boulder, population 300,000) today for an appointment. The choking traffic around road work as I approached my appointment made me late. (Okay, so I should have left earlier. I admit that I always underestimate the time needed to get anywhere. I’m an optimist!) The frenetic dueling cars vying for parking spaces had nothing over the dueling cars vying to get out of the parking lot. Turning left was going to be a long wait for those of us sitting at Stop signs. I prayed fervently for no fender benders for all those in this and every other parking lot today and the rest of this holiday week.

Now that my grandchildren are older at ages 6, 9 and 11, their parents have helped to shift the focus away from Christmas presents and towards doing things for others. So, from a grandma’s point of view, there isn’t a lot to do in terms of “making Christmas” for kids. For that, I am thankful. We told the family that we weren’t doing presents this year, and we’ve increased our gifts to organizations that are helping victims of disasters, both the ones originating from natural and human causes. We’ve opted for a dinner theater experience for everyone, and we’re celebrating our son’s birthday on the 22nd with a lunch get-together. We’re foregoing our annual orgy of excess this year and, we hope, every year hereafter.

My girlfriend had a wonderful idea yesterday. She was remarking on how so many stores instruct their checkout clerks to tell their customers the amount they’ve saved by shopping there. She pointed out that unless she does something different with those savings, like sharing them with others who need help, the savings feel selfish. Her comments gave me pause. Just think of how much additional charitable giving there could be if we each donated those savings instead of pocketing them.

The religious significance of Christmas is the incarnation of God as human. Incarnation is important. From a human perspective, incarnation makes things real, including, in a sense, making God real as a human experience or knowledge of God. Incarnation validates us, as humans, as being important and significant to God. We may be puny humans, but God values us and loves us, just as we are, right where we happen to be, in whatever circumstances we find ourselves, however lovable or unlovable we turn out.

I think my girlfriend’s idea of intentionally sharing those store savings is about making our charitable impulses incarnational. It’s not enough to think about sharing with those in need. We’ve got to make it happen, for real, by writing the check and giving the cash. Now, that would feel like Christmas.

Inevitable: the death of news as we know it

The familiar and revered

have died

passed on

overcome by another season

other reasons

Nature deals extinction

for animal and plant species

Losing hands

loosening grips

memory or imagination

history or invention

Why not news media

Delivery mechanisms

stagecoaches and trains

papyrus and ink

remnants of days gone by

Like the summer annual

bright and brighter

for a moment

leading us to believe

summer will last forever

But its premise fades

dries

dessicates

blowing into the autumn breeze

precursor of the leaves

unleashed from trees

Snowflakes

light as a breath

blow in on winter’s watch

Learning to let go

not mourning

not cheering

simply watching

the news slip away

in this print form

waiting

not quite believing

news will come again

in a new form

Ciphers constructed of

electric ions

speeding on

fibers thin as a notion

that we’ll become

accustomed to

like the lamp on

the table next to the photo

of great-great-great grand relatives

whose names we barely remember

whose stories we never knew

like the next generation’s

heirlooms

old stuff that got saved

sometimes inadvertently

Do you want to be the one

announcing the death of a generation

or proclaiming the beginning of the next?

Frazzled Moms and Over-Weening Expectations

I just read an article in the New York Times about frazzled volunteer moms who are pushing back. The point of the article is that over-achiever volunteer moms, or should I say, over-guilted moms, have finally hit the wall and figured out that they need to scale back for their own health and their relationships' well-being.

I think the article had it right as far as it goes, but it basically, in my opinion, misses the point. As wonderful and needed as are the decorated classrooms for seasonal events or fundraisers for all manner of extras for teachers and students, maybe, just maybe, the answer is that we need to scale back our expectations and get along with less.

That certainly is how we are handling our family’s resources and needs right now in the face of retirement and declining savings. We still want to help the people that we have helped in the past, but we also have to do that with many fewer resources. So, it’s time to look at everything anew, together, and discuss and discern what’s important today and what we’re capable of realistically.

We’re having little Christmas this year, which means that we’re not decorating or hosting a huge holiday dinner at home. We’re also not giving gifts to anyone, and we’ve let the family know that. What we are doing is hosting one family gathering at the local dinner theatre so that everyone, from grandchildren to great-grandmother and in-laws, can spend an evening together, enjoying the same musical play, and eating a nice dinner that no one has slaved in the kitchen over all day.

It will be about the experience of being together and enjoying each other’s company and not about feverishly rushing from store to store or Web site to Web site trying to find the perfect gift. Because, let’s face it, no one in our family needs anything more to make them happy. We as a family are blessed to have enough stuff. It is good for our souls to spend time walking the dogs at the Humane Society, knitting hats for the homeless, and sitting and chatting with the lonely.

Dashing the Hopes of the Poor

When my husband Herb was in the hospital during his kidney transplant surgery in early October, I reflected on the great good fortune our family was enjoying through the generosity of the donor's family and the excellent transplant program in which Herb was enrolled. As the days progressed and Herb recovered, I also reflected on how intense my involvement was, and needed to be, in order for him to recover fully from the transplant and sustain the health necessary to maintain the donor kidney's viability.

One of the things that struck me fully and forcefully between the eyes was the need for a recipient to have a functioning family support system. Without such a support system, a patient simply wouldn't even qualify to enter a transplant program. After all, donor organs are scarce commodities, and prudence requires careful stewardship of such organs. 

The ability to be a compliant recipient who adheres to all the medical regimen after the transplant is a necessary requirement. This is an important aspect of transplant surgeries over and above any issues of health insurance and ability to pay for the costly surgeries and even more costly anti-rejection immuno-suppresant medications for the rest of the recipient's life. 

In our case, because Herb is 71 and in the Medicare system, his surgery and medications are largely paid for through Medicare and his private Medicare gap insurance. (Incidentally, you'd be surprised at how big a reduction the physicians, hospitals and other care providers take as participants in the government-based Medicare program.)

I just read in AlterNet that the State of Arizona has cut payment for certain kinds of transplants for patients on Medicaid due to budget constraints. It chills my soul to hear of this. Talk about taking the hope of the poor away, not to mention condemning them to death merely for being poor. Lord, have mercy!

Dust

What comes after the dust?

she asked in quiet tones

meant to be heard only by herself

What came before has been fulsome

and finite

the facts are known

but not the motives

Each lifetime measured in days

unless you were unlucky

to have died

before you developed memories

or merited photographs

and aching desire

of some One

to taste your essence

Pleasure is so overrated

knowing that you will disappear

the way you came

suddenly, without announcement

Promises peripheral

like the ribbons binding

the presents she forgot to give

The time before the dust

Was it eternity or something less?