Finding My Lost Yoda

November 30, 2016

It's been years since I’ve been here at Noble Coffee Roasting but the place hasn’t changed one bit, other than a glittering display table full of stuff for sale inside the front door. Still the same tasty, to their credit, coffee. And still the same, Noble please hear me now, lame policy regarding not filling a mug to the top.

"Yes, we still only make 12 ounce coffees," the smiling barista replied in response to my question.

Even though I have an 18 ounce mug and would be very happy to pay for it to be filled to the top!

“It's so that you get the full flavor,” they say.

I ranted about this "it's what the customer wants" thing years ago and I'm fairly certain there are more important things to discuss today than ounces of coffee and how many of them I want. Like how I forgot to ask for decaf because I was so flustered by the inane quality vs. quantity policy that I’m gonna pay even more for later with more intense tinnitus and difficulty getting to sleep. But I digress. 

Walked here from home today. A good walk in the crisp, late fall, air. Before popping in here I stopped in at the shop across the street, catching up on personal stuff and chatting current politics for half an hour with the proprietor, a long-time acquaintance. I told her that I keep thinking I'll wake up and 2016 will all have been some crazy dream, and that it'd be a good book except that it's been so fucking absurd and bizarre that no one would even believe it.

I've been contemplating writing a piece about how the things that have happened this year, both to me and also in my family, have seemed bad at the outset but in retrospect we have been able to see how they were actually perfect. And I consider drawing a parallel to the current political scene that seems so bad to many of us: what if things are going perfectly (as per my daily morning mantra) even though they don't appear to be at the moment? Maybe there is a bigger picture that we aren't seeing, and when we look back we will better understand why this went down the way it did? I know many of my friends on the left would consider this a bit loony, but it's a thesis I'd like to play around with a little bit...

I'm not sure how this grand thesis will turn out--there is so much going on right now that seems so incredibly wrong--but one part of it involves getting to know the "other side" a little bit better. I am certain that I will find more in common with the folks in the "Fly Over States" than I am lead to believe by those who would seek to divide and control me and my thinking. And I intend to write about this as I roll across this great country of ours by rail a couple of short weeks from now.

Riley has been bugging me the past few minutes to watch a video. “Even tho it’s a commercial,” she texted, “still pretty neat! Funny tho cuz I think trump owns Amazon? Anyway...”

“Trump owns amazon? I don’t think so! If so I’m dumping!! I’ll check video out later when I’m not in the coffee shop!” I replied.

A few minutes later another text, “Watch video with no sound. You don’t need it.”

So I watched the video. “A priest and an imam meet for tea.” It is going viral as I write.

Yes, it might be an ad. But it’s a meaningful one. Thank you Amazon and Jeff Bezos (no, Trump does not own Amazon) for this response to the hate and divisiveness.

Small things like this go viral because they are big things. They move us. They speak what we sometimes don’t know how to say in a-picture-speaks-a-thousand-words sort of way.

Looking for more information on the ad I ran into this at Vagabomb.com. Al Jazeera had tracked down the two who were in the ad. They were not "just" actors, they were a real priest and a real imam who first met on the set and are now friends. In the link above, the two talk together and take questions. The priest shared, "Really big change in the world starts from small changes. And we have made friends and that’s a friendship that will never die.”

I think more people would choose coming together than not. But we aren’t encouraged to see things that way. We are encouraged, by our media and political establishment, to see everyone else as our enemy. We are encouraged to be and remain divided. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it until it’s no longer true: keeping us divided is the best way to keep us controlled.

One of the things the acquaintance across the street and I discussed, and not necessarily with mutual agreement, was dialoguing with those we differ with. She balked a bit after I said I agree that we need to collectively resist but I’m also concerned that doing so may alienate further the very ones we need to be dialoguing with. She said two things in reply. One that the Repubs have been pushing through an agenda for years by lying and cheating. And that the Dems (as if they don’t have their own liars and cheaters, I might add) have been responding with, “We need to talk.” Her insinuation, if I understand it correctly, was that the time for dialogue is over. She also said, “You can’t change someone’s mind.”

I respectfully disagree. Our minds change all the time. Especially when we feel our concerns have been heard. Then we can more easily move from a defensive posture to a listening one. Dialogue—compassionate communication with a large dose of listening and attempting to understand each others' concerns instead of just labeling each other as morons—is exactly the thing that changes minds, and exactly the thing that could turn our current situation around.

Yes, resistance may be necessary right now. Fascism, and all its attendant ills, is not just a distant problem faced by a far off country anymore. We are now forced to confront it ourselves. We are also forced to acknowledge that hate still exists. I've been surprised (perhaps I'm too naive) to see the rise of so much hate. But maybe it is Hate's last gasp? Whatever it is, we must not allow fear of what may be to consume us. As Yoda so wisely said, "Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." We must not return hate for hate. This just makes hate win. Let us choose love over hate, especially when in the face of the latter.

Each person standing up for and fighting for what they believe is right may be where we are at. Especially now, in such an extraordinary time when all that we each believe in so strongly is being brought to the crucible. But I believe that finding ways to bring people together, to come to consensus on where we are at together, may be more effective in the bigger picture of who we are as humans. And it is this ideal that I believe is possible, this ideal that I have as my mantra each morning of every new day that I am granted, this ideal that I commit myself to.

November 20, 2016

I needed to get in a hike today so I took off and did the over the hill and through the woods and along the creek and through the park thing on my way here to Louie’s House. As I exited Lithia Park there was a guy behind the sign with a gal in front taking a picture of him. He and I made eye contact and we spoke simultaneously: “Can you…?”, “Would you like me…?” 

A nice young couple from Portland. They thought I might be a tourist as well, walking around with a backpack and all. He said I was a Professional Amateur. “Hmm?” I asked? “You’re a professional who notices people want a picture taken.” I laughed, but then while snapping a few photos said, “I could be a professional photographer though!” His gal pal laughed and agreed.

While walking, I realized what I should write about today. But while scrolling through this journal [on my laptop] to get to today’s blank page, I happened to stop on my May 22 entry. And of course that distracted me from getting to today's write. I really like that entry, which was the day before I was let go from Caldera. Another Sunday where I stopped to take a photo of a couple before heading to write about what I should be doing with my life. Coincidences? Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe I’m just stuck in a loop. Sure feels that way sometimes.

There was another small coincidence earlier. We’ve got all these tomatoes we need to do something with so I pulled out one of my favorite cookbooks, Crescent Dragonwagon's "Passionate Vegetarian" and moved to open to the index. But instead I opened to “Slow-Baked Caramelized Tomatoes.” It’s not like the page is dog-eared (like the page the corn chowder recipe is on in my New Basics Cookbook), I’ve never made this, nor recall looking at it before, but it was exactly the thing I wanted to make. Easy, tasty, versatile use of a counter full of overflowing end-of-harvest tomatoes. I was surprised enough by the “coincidence” (this is an 1110 page tome after all) that it occurred to me, for the first time in a while, that maybe something (even if this "something" is just myself) is trying to get me to hear something.

I have definitely been forgetting to listen lately. I’ve been WAY too distracted by all the presidential election shit going on. And I’m pretty sure it’s numbed my eardrums to that still quiet voice who speaks a more evolved language.

As I was walking through the woods today, my head and hearing feeling numbed by tinnitus, congestion, and all the aforementioned garbage, I stopped to just listen as best I could. I was reminded of Charles Nelson Reilley’s appearance on Johnny Carson’s “The Tonight Show” in 1977, which I watched last night, nearly 40 years after it was first broadcast. (Scrolling through the guide I’d noticed Mark Hamill was a guest and this was the year Star Wars came out. “Nothing else on, might as well watch this,” I told myself.)

Dolly Parton was the scheduled guest but she couldn’t make it so Reilley agreed to appear in her place. He walked out carrying Dolly's new album, “Here You Come Again." 

Interestingly, looking up Reilley today I see that he was often asked to fill in for missing guests on the Tonight Show, appearing on the show more than 100 times, because he only lived blocks away from the studios in Burbank. Here you come again, indeed.

While cleaning up the kitchen, waiting for Hamill’s appearance, I heard Reilley mention something about not being able to see very well when he was a kid. “I just thought that’s what things looked like. How could I know?” And then an eye doctor gave him some glasses to try out. His world changed.

I thought about that today while I was walking through the woods wondering what sounds I wasn’t hearing while assuming I was hearing everything.

And that’s pretty much where we are collectively, politically. And probably otherwise.

Is it sad that the only historical facts I immediately recall about 1977 was that "Star Wars" debuted and Bruce graduated from high school? And that it was the year, at 12 years old, I started secretly reading Judy Blume’s “Forever,” and feeling my sexuality beginning to bloom?

I'm pretty sure there are many other things that happened in 1977 that I'm missing—Ya think?!? The series "Roots," the beginning of the Carter years, the space shuttle program, the Wow! signal received from outer space... Just to name a few of the fascinating historical events from 1977 that I see here.

                                                                                                                                                                             
May 22, 2016

I decided early this morning that I needed some writing time today. When I make this decision, which has been all too rare of late, I usually make the mistake of first trying to figure out WHAT I should be writing about. Even though I’ve long since learned that my absolute favorite writing (because it best opens me to what I'm actually thinking) is the kind that takes place when I just start writing and put one finger in front of the other. Julia Cameron’s "Morning Pages" style. No stopping to let the editor tell me what I think, no stopping to worry about spelling, grammar, punctuation, or "correct" writing style. Just writing what comes. It's a surprisingly simple, and effective, tool for getting at what Cameron (and others) call, "First Thoughts." IE., what I really think versus what everyone else tells me I should think. Cameron recommends doing this practice in the morning (hence "Morning Pages") upon waking because the internal PC Police/Editor isn't as alert to our intentions as they are after we are fully awake. And I do love doing this practice in the morning, but, for a variety of reasons, they are usually Afternoon or Evening Pages for me.

And I am always marveled by what proceeds.Yet, here I am thinking too hard about how to best put that sentence! 

Ahah. I meant to type “haha” but I’ll not correct my flying fingers! And once I reminded myself  here that I very rarely need to “figure out” what I will write before I start writing, I experienced a little jump of inner joy and excitement. Which reminds me now as I write, just putting one finger in front of the other here, of one of the tweets I ran across this morning under the morning’s trending hashtag: #thingsiponderatnight: “When butterflies find their mate do they feel the fluttering of humans inside?”

Another tweet was about how tweets are immortal so it’s a way to make yourself so. Weird theory. But I felt suddenly curious when this particular tweet thread originated, and from whom. So I started scrolling. And scrolling. And scrolling some more. When did twitter begin anyway? Apparently before 3/9/2010 at least, which was when Andrea Wulf first invented the aforementioned tweet. And I’d thought this thread was maybe new today and that’s why it was trending. More likely someone in the Twitter Control Room decided to bring it back as a trend for some reason. Really, I don’t see that tweets have much to do with what is really trending as who decides what will be trending, thereby controlling our behavior.  I don’t know this for sure, but it is definitely a strong suspicion—especially considering, understatement ahead, how easily we succumb to being controlled.

I just googled Andrea Wulf, author of the hashtag #thingsiponderatnight, and there is more than one. Andrea Wulf who wrote the original tag appears to be a joyful new mother. Andrea Wulf, who first appeared after my google, happens to be a writer currently in the news for her NYT bestseller, “The Invention of Nature..Alexander von Humboldt’s New World.” Compelling stuff, to pursue another day perhaps, about the interconnectedness of all things…. Hello?!

Walking along today I took special note of all the beautiful porches we have here in Ashland. And landscapes with beautifully planned and manicured flora. “But it all takes so much time,” I thought. “Wouldn’t it be nice if people just opened their porches and yards for others to enjoy with them from time to time?"

("Would that be parks?” I also ask myself. “But parks are one thing and porches with breaking bread are another more intimate and communal thing," I counter.)

I continued the conversation in my head, "Instead of all this time people spend creating an atmosphere that I see so few actually enjoying themselves, and great front porches that I never see anyone on, why not share it with others?” And that’s when the thought, “Share The Porch Day” occurred. With a hashtag of course. And continued, one thought in front of the other like, “what an amazing way this would be to bring our country together!” Opening our porches to the community, and sharing a refreshing beverage and breaking some bread together, and gradually getting to know our neighbors and their fears and most deeply held hopes. (Stop and fix this paragraph says me, but keep the hand moving says Julia.)

Bruce and I watched Michael Moore’s Where To Invade Next last night. I’d seen an interview with him about it a couple weeks ago when it was just released on DVD and streaming video. Each country he goes to, “invading to take back to America what is valuable,” could be a movie unto itself. The overwhelming and disturbing takeaway of value though, for me, is this: In our constant pursuit of all things material, we here in America are truly missing out on a more richly-lived life.

Why don’t we take better care of each other? Why don’t we commune more? Why don't we care to treat our neighbors as ourselves more often, and actually get to know them and what is important to them? And how did we get this way? Was it our pursuit of rugged individualism and freedom to do as we please? (Not a bad trait on its own except that it came—another huge understatement ahead—on the pained backs of other humans who also had the same rights and desires.)

I want to give all of this some more thought, and figure out how I can bring my life better in line with what I value.

Recently my family told me, quite directly: "You’ve lost your Yoda."And I have. I've let work get in the way of who I am. Oh, I've been able to make some positive contributions at Caldera that I'm proud of, but the place is eating me alive and I need to make some changes. I need to find my Yoda. And that's what I plan on working through the next write--unless I'm distracted of course!--but it’s 4:50, the Stone’s “don’t make a grown man cry" lyrics are on overhead here at The Black Sheep, and I need to get home.