"The N Train" 

“The best thing we ever did, outside of having children, was moving to Wisconsin,” I said last Tuesday as we sat in our son Joshua’s living room in New York. What if we’d taken a different path out of Manhattan 42 years ago, what if Adolph had chosen to teach at Skidmore in Saratoga Springs instead of at UWM? What if, what if, no way of knowing, and it doesn’t matter.
 
We loved living in NYC with its great museums, galleries galore, theater, dance, concerts, poetry venues, parks, public transit, sidewalks perfect for people watchers like me. I’ve spent countless days of my life drawing in Macys, Gimbels, and Central Park, in coffeehouses, buses, and subways. In fact I did a new series of “N” train and “M3” bus drawings this past week.

"More N Train" 

We loved NY but didn’t want to raise our children there. Soot coated our freshly-washed dishes if we left the kitchen window open. Snow drifts were not white. I had to walk thirteen blocks with three babies in a stroller to get to Washington Square Park. I had to trudge with a giant laundry bag and three babies to go to the laundromat, had to pile grocery bags with the kids when shopping. People pushed through crowds on the sidewalks; cars, trucks, buses, and taxis sped through the traffic-filled streets.

"The Third Avenue Bus" 

Small-scale Shorewood seems perfect for people like me. We came home from NY last Thursday, then went to the vegetarian potluck at the Urban Ecology Center and a WAVE benefit at the house next door. Friday: a sustainability committee meeting and the Fitness Center; since then I’ve taken a granddaughter to the Nutcracker, hung out with friends at Schwartz Bookstore, gone to Walgreens, Pick & Save, Beans & Barley, Whole Foods, to the ear doctor with Adolph, had dinner at our kids’ houses, gone to a salon discussion on feminism, and almost every trip was on foot or by bus.

Friends here often mention how lucky they feel to live in Shorewood, where so much is so close at hand, easily accessible without a car, and where there are so many interesting and thoughtful people. American mores have gone askew, more money more power bigger cars houses egos. Maybe life’s meant to be smaller and simpler: more salons where people sit around and discuss issues that matter, more salons and less saloons, more urban farms and gardens and less agribusiness, more creative games and less computer games, more bikes and less cars, more thought about values and less vacant worship of things.
 

Home-based group discussions of the issues that shape our lives should be taking place everywhere in this nation, and on a regular basis. The Sunday Soup and Salad Salon has been meeting once a month for four years, and whether I agree or disagree with the ideas expressed, they force my thoughts to travel in unexpected directions.

About forty people showed up at our post-election salon. Everyone was relieved that the election wasn’t stolen, was euphoric, optimistic, reveled in the sense of solidarity with each other and with the rest of the country. And most believed in Obama’s good intentions. Yet there also was skepticism, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but....” And there were those who wondered, with such a deep divide, how do we heal? Then there’s the question: what next? The base is expanded, energized, excited, expectant, where do we go from here?

An African-American woman noticed an unaccustomed deference from a clerk, and that’s what I was thinking most about afterwards. Especially when a friend said to me that deference, but for all the wrong reasons, is creepy.

Is it? What are right reasons? I suspect most human interactions are plagued by so-called wrong reasons, by hidden agendas, even by agendas hidden from those who’ve written them. People often don’t recognize the “real” reason for their actions. Even the more self-analytical specimens of our species fall short.

Is it creepy if a latent, or even a blatant, racist looks at an African-American with more respect because a black man is our president-elect? Perhaps that racist will begin to realize that we’re all just human beings. What starts as a wrong reason could ultimately become a trigger for positive behavior.

And perhaps the flipside of this is true: perhaps the clerk didn’t treat her with more deference, perhaps she was simply feeling more self-confidence, feeling that more possibilities have opened up. Perhaps she was feeling more pride in being black.
 

After our last Second Sunday Soup and Salad Salon, I sat down immediately to write, and that’s as far as I got. I didn’t have the time to strike while the mind was hot. Too bad. Anyway, the subject was forgiveness, and most people prefer not to think about that.

That salon was two months ago. Maybe it’s good to see what remains of the discussion as time passes. Three comments come to mind. For Elsa the main consideration in forgiveness is whether or not she can be absolutely sure she wouldn’t have done the same thing in identical circumstances. I think one of the things wrong in our society is that too many people are so self-involved that empathy has disappeared. If we placed ourselves in others’ shoes, tried to figure out why our enemies act the way they do, we might be able to figure out what to do about it.

Empathy with the enemy may be a little much to ask of most people. Yet it brings me to the other two comments. Rose told about a friend who had been married to a brilliant young scientist working on his PHD. When he was walking home from the lab late one night, a gang of boys attacked and killed him. The widow forgave her husbands’ murderers and saw to their education, did everything she could to make sure that they would never kill again. Yvette told of listening sessions in which a group of women described how abuse had affected their lives. The abusers sat in the same room.

Forgiveness doesn’t absolve the perpetrator of responsibility. It does, however, allow us to avoid being devoured by anger, hate, and greed, to concentrate on common ground and finding solutions.

Rose and Yvette sent me Emails today elaborating on their comments. Before I post them, I’ll post the introduction our facilitator, Carolyn, sent everyone ahead of time:
“In this contentious and dangerous world, do we need a dose of forgiveness, empathy and civility?  Many religions offer forgiveness as an answer to our problems.  Why is forgiveness so difficult?  Do we fear that if we forgive an enemy we are selling out, showing weakness or giving in?  Desmond Tutu says that we should pray to forgive our enemies, (and if that does not work,) pray to want to forgive our enemies, (and if that does not work,) pray to want to want ... .   I recently saw a program NOW where evangelical Christians traveled to Alaska with scientists.  Ordinarily they are on opposite sides of many issues, but they decided to try to listen to and understand each other at least on one issue, the environment and global warming.  It worked.  They were forgiving, empathetic and civil.  They were able to find common ground.  Could we use this example in other situations?  On the other hand, are there times when we need to be stubborn?”

ROSE’S MESSAGE: This is such an important subject both in interpersonal and international relations.

I think the situation with the scientist was that the widow determined that the attack was a random one and was not directed at her husband particularly and so she was able to deal with it on the level that these were troubled youth who needed to find a better way to get their kicks!

One principle that I think is important is that the person to be forgiven needs to identify what the offense was and ask for forgiveness of the offended person.  In my personal experience, I think this helps everyone not only the two involved but also those in the periphery who are affected by the conflict.

I am not sure if this was the way they handled it in South Africa during the Truth and Reconciliation Commissions.  Can someone enlighten me? Also, in Chile, the people who lost their loved ones have said to their offenders. "You must live with your shame.  We can hold our heads up high and honor those we loved. "

YVETTE’S MESSAGE: As you know, forgiveness is a journey and it has been while since I felt compelled to touch this tender place.  I have been fortunate to participate in the community restorative justice program as it was offered through the Alma Center (a nonprofit organization dedicated to ending violence and abuse in intimate relationships, families and the community)  The Alma Center has a unique focus of peace education for abusive men.
 
My participation in restorative justice work, has altered and healed my soul each time, and in different ways.  Allow me to explain:
 
The Format:
 
A number of people are gathered from the community, certain people were invited because of their unique life experience.  We all sat in a large circle, men who've been convicted of domestic violence and suffered from abuse, judges, former police officers, college students, social workers, counselors, mothers, sons, fathers and daughters.  All were there for a reason.  As we all sat facing each other, most of us strangers, we were guided by our facilitator to briefly introduce ourselves and how we came (were invited) to this circle.
 
It is a three day format.  Each participant agreed to be present for 2 1/2 hours on Friday evening, 4 hours on Saturday morning, and 2 1/2 hours on Tuesday evening.
The facilitator explained that the circle we sit in and the format that we are about to follow is drawn from the Native American traditions.  We will each have an opportunity to speak while others listen.  Then she shows us a small hand held item and explains that this will be our 'talking stick'.  The person who has it is free to speak and share his or her thoughts.  Others just listen, not to comment or respond, just listen.  When that person is finished, he passes the talking stick to his neighbor, who then may share his thoughts.  Anyone who chooses not to speak is free to pass the talking stick to his neighbor.  Silence is as acceptable as speaking.
 
The Topic:
 
The topic is violence. The question we are given to respond to is, how has violence touched your life.
 
 
The Sharing:
 
I’m grateful to be sitting about 12 people away from the talking stick. I can listen and let the memories surface without judgment. I relax and listen. I am deeply moved by each persons sharing. There is even a gift in the silence. I find that the stories start deep and get deeper.
 
More to come...

MY MESSAGE: When Yvette sends me more, I’ll definitely post it!
 

If intention were action, I’d post a blog every day. I always write one. In my head. Sometimes I write down the first paragraph, in fact don’t yet know whether this will be merely another first paragraph. I find almost everything interesting, but can’t find time to write about it. And if intention were action, I’d post a blog after every Second Sunday Soup and Salad Salon. First we share our food, after that our thoughts on a specific topic. We examine the issues that affect our lives, philosophical, environmental, cultural, political.

This month I resolved to write beyond paragraph one, maybe because our topic was voluntary simplicity, which covers every aspect of how we live. Simplicity enforced by poverty was not the topic, nor the simplicity that will be imposed on us as climate change progresses, but simplicity chosen by those who are lucky enough to have that choice. What is it, what does it require of the individual, where are each of us now? What is the media’s impact on this? Why do so many people buy into the importance of THINGS?

We touched on the range of complexity entailed in simplicity and how each of us deals with it. People mentioned personal quirks they were trying to work on, like the man with more shoes than Imelda, or the woman trying to get rid of her excess so her children won’t be stuck with it.

My view: to live simply we have to examine our lives, know our priorities, know what makes us content, recognize that things are merely things. Here are a few things I do, or avoid doing:
I don’t drive, but rather bike, walk, or bus
Grow my own vegetables, but what about all those trees that make the crop smaller each year?
Make sure my grandkids know how wonderful it is to eat food you yourself have grown
Use fresh produce, preferably organic, preferably local
Avoid processed foods, red meat, farmed salmon
Minimize eating out
Use organic products for cleaning and lawn care, avoiding pesticides and other poisons
Recycle, and that includes buying, when possible, at rummage sales
Keep the thermostat low and wear sweaters and long underwear in winter
Minimize water use, hard when I have a vegetable garden
Remind myself to let go, of things that don’t really matter, of the things I want to do and don’t have time for, of things I own but don’t need.
Use whatever talents I have to make people contemplate their own impact on their surroundings. That’s why I’m writing this!

There’s more I do, and much more I should do. One thing I want to say: every single item on my list enriches my life rather than depleting it.

Yvette wrote this to me after last Sunday’s salon: “I realized that my life has been simplified over the last 5 months due to a change in my eating.  I've become a vegan (by default) to help reduce the tinnitus (ringing in my ears).  I've reduced the amount of food I consume.  I cook more and eat out less.  I buy most of my veggies from local farmers markets and have taken the time to nurture myself in this way.  It has been a worthwhile journey.  Change your eating, change your world!...One point that we didn't discuss:  Rhythms can greatly simplify our life.  We create a harmonic rhythm to the day and it flows as we flow with it.  We can also create a beautiful rhythm to tasks that come on a routine basis.  It requires conscious thought and aware alignment, but ultimately as we align ourselves with the rhythm of the universe, we find flow and peace in voluntary simplicity.”

I wrote Glow Ball Worming for our Earth Poets and Musician performances last April. It plays around more poetically with my ideas on voluntary simplicity and ecological living, which are intertwined. I hope you’ll add any thoughts you might have.