In the blink of an eye

10 years_2

Arriving in Helsinki from Sheremyetyevo, 21 July 2007

Ten years.

Ten years ago today, we took our three suitcases and Che Fufu carrier (with Che Fufu less-than-pleased to be in it) and made our way to Sheremyetyevo with one-way tickets to a country next door and yet worlds away. Several security checkpoints and an hour-long flight later, we arrived in Helsinki’s very clean and quiet airport.

Ten years. It simultaneously feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago.

There’s still so much of this city and country that remains utterly foreign to us (Finnish language, perhaps?). And, yet, we’ve built a life here. I remember that first summer missing a bus whilst standing at the stop because we didn’t signal as it approached. I remember being in awe at how huge and well-stocked the supermarkets were and how cheap things like clothes were. I remember the novelty and delight of an online journey planner which would tell us how long it would take to walk to the bus stop and what time the bus would arrive at that stop. And, even better, how long to the minute the journey would take. Furthermore, it was typically correct!

After Moscow, this was utterly unbelievable. Much of our new life was. It all seems so normal now, but was completely surreal ten years ago.

Helsinki has been good to us, and it isn’t at all a bad place to live. It’s clean, it’s well-organised and safe. It’s quiet—so quiet that when we first arrived the quiet proved unsettling.

Since we’ve arrived, we’ve celebrated milestones (getting married counts, right?) and birthdays, endured unimaginable uncertainty (residence permit saga anyone?) and come through it all to enjoy a bit of calmness and serenity. The world beyond may be crumbling or chaotic, but our little life here is relatively peaceful and stress-free these days.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine living in Finland. But, here we are. I never imagined marrying a Cuban until I met mine. I’ve no idea how long this glorious-in-summer / abysmal-in-winter land will be home to us, but here’s to ten years and counting. It’s passed in the blink of an eye.

On ‘For All of Us, One Today’

For All of Us, One Today: An Inaugural Poet's JourneyFor All of Us, One Today: An Inaugural Poet’s Journey by Richard Blanco

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A good friend of mine (and poet himself) attended a reading by Richard Blanco and had him sign a copy of this little gem of a story for my husband (a Cuban) and I. It was a lovely surprise to receive in the mail. And, one made all the more meaningful for the various connections and parallels with my own little part of the world.

As an immigrant to another country myself, married to a one-time immigrant to the US, there is so much that resonates with me in this particular journey and story. Blanco’s poems are lovely and meaningful. And, I can see now why he was chosen as the inaugural poet.

Aside from the poems and process of being inaugural poet, the more inspiring bit is his devotion and inspiration to making poetry more relevant and visible in contemporary American life in the wake of his experience. Rather than boasting about being selected as inaugural poet, he desires to do good with that voice gained as a result. And, to give voice to all those whom he influenced and inspired with his poem.

We are a country of immigrants, some newer and some far removed from their ancestors who first stepped foot on North American soil. But, the majority of us are from elsewhere. Embracing that unique mixture and shared reality and history is what makes us truly great to my mind. What a fitting way to acknowledge that diversity and shared history through the selection of Blanco as inaugural poet.

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On ‘Where Men Win Glory’

Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat TillmanWhere Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman by Jon Krakauer
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I can’t remember which Krakauer book I read first—Into Thin Air or Into the Wild. Whichever it was matters little at this point. What is clear is that he is a singularly gifted story teller and a meticulous researcher when it comes to uncovering what he can of whatever truth remains hidden.

This book is utterly gut-wrenching. And, yet, like several of his other works absolutely crucial reading.

I’m not a football fan at all, and can’t claim to have been aware of Pat Tillman or his talents as a player, let alone what team he played for. His name was only familiar to me because, like many, I’d read stories or headlines about the former NFL player-turned Ranger in the wake of 9/11. And, how he tragically lost his life serving in the Armed Forces in Afghanistan.

To learn the details, or what we can, of what ultimately occured in Afghanistan to an individual with unimaginable integrity and bravery leaves me further enraged beyond words by wars that never should have been launched. To read the lengths high-ranking individuals went to to keep key details regarding the circumstances of his death not just from the public but from Tillman’s family leaves me sickened. What an obscene and callous slight to the ultimate sacrifice he made, and what an utter disgrace to his memory.

This book will remain with me for quite some time. Part Two features a quote from Chris Hedges that haunts me and should haunt all, particularly those who make decisions regarding the willingness of a nation to enter any war: ‘War is always about betrayal, betrayal of the young by the old, of idealists by cynics and of troops by politicians.’

As much as Pat Tillman lived by a measure of integrity and honesty and goodness which we’d all do well to emulate, so many have betrayed him and what he so courageously chose to serve for. He wasn’t merely a jock joining a war he necessarily believed in. He was a thoughtful, principled, learned man who served a cause he thought to be a part of the greater good. His memory and legacy deserve infinitely more than the betrayal they’ve received.

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Milestones and markers

Change comes slowly, none more so than changing some rather embedded bad habits. It may come later in than life than I’d like, but there’s a certain joy and relief that accompanies working towards various milestones. And, succeeding. Bit by painfully slow bit.

One habit that has plagued me my entire life is my penchant for procrastination. I’ve told myself time and again that I do my best work when I wait until the last moment to tuck in as that deadline creeps inevitably nearer. This has not serve me well at various moments and has caused far too many sleepless nights. But, more so, the stress that accompanies that penchant for procrastination as any deadline approaches and as life becomes increasingly busy have taken their toll in unintended yet predictable ways. Coupled with an inability to say ‘no’ (another issue I’m working on), my schedule no longer allows me to both procrastinate and still meet whatever deadline exists. Never mind my inability to cope with the stress I’ve caused myself in the process. My work and mental health have suffered, and thus the vicious cycle continued.

As I  work towards feeling better mentally, I’m also recognising that I need to adjust how and when I work, and make some changes towards procrastinating less. Note: I’m not even considering eliminating my tendency towards ‘tomorrow’—I’m simply attempting to procrastinate less and, thus, diminish some of that mental anguish I cause myself.

Habits formed long ago and stuck. It doesn’t mean they must remain.

This week and last mark a milestone for me in multiple ways. I’ve not only made it beyond a running milestone that I’ve long wanted to shatter,  but I’ve sat at my desk and worked when I didn’t really need to. As much as I love my job, there are days when I just don’t want to work.

Sure, I could have taken off most of last week and this, and still made my two deadlines tomorrow. But, I did something weird and completely uncharacteristic for me: I made a plan of action (that is, working towards a goal each day), reached those targets, and then had the rest of my working days to do with what I wanted. Not only did I complete both tasks well ahead of schedule (one on Tuesday and one today), but I finished in the morning (after requiring a mere two half-days of work earlier this week), enjoyed a three-day weekend for the first time since our holiday in December and January, and managed to spend some quality time each day with my darling husband.

Who is this person? More importantly, can she stick around for a bit?

As I work on improving my physical stamina, I’m realising that much of the same mental battles I face running apply to habits in general across the rest of my life. Pushing through those moments when the temptation to twiddle my thumbs rather than work on my to-do list relies on the same determination I need to put one foot in front of the other. Naturally, I could take the easy route and quit. Or I can take one extra step and another and see how far I get. One small step may seem insignificant at any one moment; but, add them up together and they become a journey. Reaching one marker or goal allows me to place another a bit further along the path. Any path.

Change may come slowly. But, it comes. Eventually.

 

Snail's pace.jpg

Progress may appear slow. But, quitting halts it altogether.  

On ‘Nobody Speak’

It’s rather fitting that my husband chose yesterday to suggest we watch the Netflix documentary, ‘Nobody Speak‘.

It’s frightening to me that large swaths of the United States simply don’t think about the news that they consume. Or demonise all news and media outlets as biased and therefore not worthy of their attention. To my mind, this results in an electorate largely ignorant of what is happening in their own country let alone the world, let alone the complexity of various policy issues affecting their own communities and beyond.

Forget Gawker. What about other media outlets? And, what does the Gawker case tell us about the position of the freedom of the press in the era of Trump?

And, it’s unconscionable that our current president has such a flagrant disdain for the media, and is not only hostile towards specific journalists but actively harasses them. We have a sitting president who actively and as recently as this weekend publicly vilifies journalists who dare question him, never mind any sort of criticism. Parallels to Nixon aside, I find it chilling to witness and more than a little frightening having lived in a country where freedom of the press wasn’t exactly acceptable.

Journalists’ jobs require them to ask questions, even if the individual being questioned doesn’t like it. We, who cherish our first amendment, now have billionaires either bankrolling lawsuits to bankrupt media outlets that write stories they don’t like (e.g., the role of Peter Thiel in Gawker’s demise) or purchasing newspapers and pressuring journalists and reports to not write stories that may put the owners in a less favourable light (Sheldon Adelson’s purchase of the Las Vegas Review-Journal).

Gawker was annoying at times, and could be completely disgusting, if you ask me. But, in a free society, I had the option to not click on their links. And, most of the time, I didn’t. (I honestly didn’t know there was a Hulk Hogan sex tape—it’s not really something I’d care about at all.) Regardless of my personal opinion as a consumer of news of Gawker , I defend their right to publish stories. I find their intended and orchestrated demise not only tragic but dangerous. Furthermore, I find the pigeon-holing of ‘all who disagree with me as fake news’ trend gut-wrenching, and potentially destructive of that sacred First Amendment I personally feel trumps all others. I have the option to not tune in to sources like Fox News and InfoWars. I’d like that option to remain.

Thomas Jefferson, perhaps the champion of the freedom of the press, clearly understood the importance of a well-informed electorate. As infuriating as it can be to read or consume the news on any one day in this current climate, freedom of the press and its independence from the government as well as its ability to continue asking questions that matter and reporting on stories that we need to know remain paramount. Because, as Jefferson stated,

‘Our liberty depends on the freedom of the press, and that cannot be limited without being lost.’

NB: For a list of media outlets which focus on news rather than peddling ‘alternative facts’, Forbes put out this list, which I find rather balanced and reliable.

Let’s not talk about politics

A friend of mine just shared this particular comic with me, and it could not have been more appropriate.

politics

©Emily McGovern. Brilliant image capturing how I suspect many are feeling at this particular moment. For more, visit http://emilymcgovern.com/category/comics/.

Feel familiar?

So far today, I’ve read more about the President’s damn tweets, more on potential collusion between Russian hackers and various Trump campaign officials, the assault on access to healthcare that is the GOP/Trump plan to reverse Obamacare, the completely unstaffed Science Division of the White House as of yesterday,  and the rather bizarre request for voter registration information from each state based on misinformation non-existent evidence of ‘widespread’ voter fraud within the US voting system.

I’m exhausted and it’s not even 9.00 on Saturday. And, we’re not even six months into this administration’s first term?

There’s too much. Too much noise and nonsense news and misdirection. As disgusting and demeaning as our current President’s tweets are, the agendas being pushed through as we’re all distracted by his unbecoming behaviour are even more infuriating. For instance, one little tidbit buried in news headlines is a lovely provision in a spending bill currently in the House. This provision would eliminate funding to the IRS to enforce a law prohibiting churches and other non-profits which are tax exempt from endorsing specific candidates for public office. (The law is known as the Johnson Amendment and was signed into law by President Eisenhower.) I don’t mind if churches and other non-profits want to enter the political fray; many already have. I do mind if they want to continue to claim their tax-exempt status.

And, down the political news rabbit hole I go…

My husband and I try to step away from our computers and work and other nonsense each day. On our peripatetic bonding time-out each evening, we typically experience a moment eerily akin to that captured in the image above. Particularly that last panel.

We support evidence-based policies.

We support policies which uphold and respect the human rights and dignity of all rather than a select few.

We support funding for the arts and sciences because they typically assist, benefit and enlighten more than a few, if not today then in future.

And, more than that, we support respectful, open and fact-based discussions on how to move forward on any particular issue.

I don’t for a moment believe that all those with opposing views to my own are idiots. I just wish the discussions about various policies wouldn’t assume that all of us are idiots.

Forget the bloody tweets. Let’s get back to what’s happening with and on specific policies. Precisely because it is so damn infuriating and exhausting.

Our loss of compassion

This. This article hit home.

I’ve lost count of the number of people I know who have put up a GoFundMe or other fundraising effort to help subsidise their or their family member’s life-threatening illnesses. And, like many, I’m bloody tired of having endless discussions about the politics of fear and greed.

I’m beyond enraged that individuals who have dedicated their time to work for employers who tell them they need to go on disability (at which point they lose their benefits and income) because of a chronic condition. I’m beyond incredulous how an employer can simply fire individuals because they are sick—too sick—to work, thus eliminating their benefits entirely (in one case, whilst the woman, who worked for corporate giant Radio Shack for 30 years, was on life support fighting for her own life).

I am beyond enraged when ‘leaders’ like Speaker Paul Ryan say that these same people simply don’t want to buy insurance. Never mind these people whom I know and care about deeply made every effort to ensure they have the coverage they need. What does Speaker Ryan think my beloved mother-in-law, well into her 80s, should do? What about an individual with dementia? What about a child born with a congenital birth defect?

There’s an element of American society that I don’t remember after living abroad for nearly 20 years. Not everyone mind, but a healthy enough proportion of us have become unimaginably cruel. Unless and until it happens to them, certain individuals seem to delight in the pain and suffering and hardships faced by others. It’d be bad enough if we simply turned a blind eye to that suffering. But, even within political discussions these days, the level of delight in watching others fail or flounder astounds me. It’s sad—so incredibly sad. For all of us.

I don’t have my own children, but I want all children to have equitable access to quality education without putting themselves or their families in debt. Why? Because I want those children to grow up equipped to become productive and engaged members of society.

I am healthy and have (touch wood) never really experienced any dire or life-threatening issues. But, I also want universal healthcare for all of my fellow Americans because I understand that ill-health and unfortunate accidents can happen to anyone. Accessing treatment shouldn’t be a privilege for those fortunate enough to have money or a privileged position within society. Like it or not, we all get sick or can. And, no-one should be forced to choose between food or shelter or health care for their loved one. Everyone’s life is priceless to someone else.

People matter. Individuals matter. Any one individual may not matter to me personally, but that isn’t what’s important. Understanding that we all have some worth or merit or characteristic which makes us priceless to others is what drives my own compassion and empathy. And, understanding that my own happiness does not come from ignoring my compassion for others guides my support for particular policies and practices. I want others to be happy just as I want to be happy myself.

To me, sitting over here in my socialist, high-tax, high-quality life in Finland where kids are exceptionally educated and health care is available to all for pennies, the US looks a lot less compassionate than I remember.  As angry as I am, I am far, far sadder. And I suspect, I am far from alone in this sadness.

Compassion_FuneralCall