Great to Connect and Smell the Pickles

Recently I sent out an e-mail blast with a video I think expresses the essence of attention - I've received it several times and even put it on my Facebook spot. I've gotten comments from "Fabulous, I' have tears," to lots of  "Thank you's" to "who are you promoting and why?"...and so the beat goes on...whenever one shows up or speaks up, someone out there doesn't like it. I've heard this one forever.

The really wonderful part of all of all this is that I've heard back from so many with whom I've been out of touch, since I moved to New York. I am thrilled. There's such a feeling of joy when I reconnect with old pals. I even heard from  Europe and New Zealand.

So after an energetic Friday in my office, on Sunday, I subwayed down to the lower East side of Manhattan for a professional tour of the area with an Alumni Group of U of M. Somehow it was sponsored by the Business School, so I was the only one there from LS&A. Very fun to share this with all ages, some graduates of the B school and some in-going graduate students. We all share a joyousness about our years in Ann Arbor no matter our ages. Some continue to return for the Football Games; others go back for reunions, which I've done; I  luckily discovered some years ago where the Michigan Band practiced for a trip to The Rose Bowl, and I went in Pasadena and watched them for hours --- totally thrilling and exhilarating.

Now, about those pickles. We were on the street listening to our tour leader who'd just handed out plantains to give us a taste of the area, when she started to talk about our next stop, the Pickle Factory.  During the great Jewish immigration in the early 20th century, the pickle business was huge with some 70 factories thricing. Today there is only one and it's owned and operated by a group of Chinese. There were lots of people already in line and the smells coming forth were music to my nose. I had to go in, where there were about 20  vats with everything you could imagine being pickled. Even pineapple. Our guide had bought us sour pickles, which were delicious, but I wish I'd had a chance to taste the dills. I'll  just have to go back.

This was certainly another connection for me. Those smells came from my childhood, even though I grew up in Detroit, which did not have pickle factories; fortunately we had deli's.

In two hours we went historically from the Jewish part of the area and the Italian/Irish part to today, where the Chinese have settled. It was a glorious day and the most-used park in New York was packed full of Chinese families connecting, chatting, using the playground equipment, walking babies; we could easily have thought we were some place in China.

What a week-end...

Miracles Are Abounding, for Which I Am So Very grateful!

You know people are always trying to connect people; it's the nature of the beast, so to speak. One day a childhood friend of mine from Detroit called. She still lives there. I left there some 45 years ago to live in Los Angeles. She'd been talking to some other women and somehow the subject of New York came up. They all discovered that they had friends in New York who should know each other because they'd probably really like each other. Several calls and e-mails later, Joan and I had a lovely dinner together.

The ladies from Detroit  were right; we did like each other.

That night after our dinner, Joan went home and called other friends in our old home town to tell them about her new friend, named Alice, who had moved to Port Huron as a young mother.  She really knew little else about my early life, as we'd never met before.

Here comes the 2 degrees of separation. Both women she called knew me! Sue and I had gone to elementary school together, and Rhoda had worked in my father's Ophthalmologic office for years and years.

While I had not known Rhoda, for I actually lived in Port Huron the very years she started working for my father, I decided to call her anyway.

We chatted like old friends. She is just a few years younger than I am, and when she worked for my father, they would have lunch together during which time he would lecture her on his rules for living, on strict dating protocol and other issues, just like he had me.

Well,  our conversation turned out to give me something I never would have imagined.  She delivered a much  miracle to me:  a communication that my father had with her, which was really meant for me...about being happy...never too late, so glad, finally.

Riding New York Buses Is Like Going to the Theater.

I absolutely adore riding New York City Buses. I never know exactly what's going to happen. As I am an experienced people-watcher, I really do take in the scene.
Yesterday was quite a dramatic treat.

I got on a bus going uptown, and noticed that the driver had actually waited for me, I thought. I asked if he'd seen me running to catch him. "No" he answered. Ok! I sat down and waited. Five minutes went by. Finally he started driving. He soon stopped and waited again. This happened three more times. I looked at my watch. He then announced to his riders, at last, that he would not be moving again, until the bus in front of his moved on and suggested we all move to the other bus. There were six of us who got off and on again and started speaking to each other about this adventure. Others shared that four buses had previously arrived at the same time, which was very unusual, so our driver was obviously trying to slow down....

We were now becoming bus buddies, involved in this common experience.


The next part of the ride went really fast, and I transferred to a cross-town bus. When I got on the next bus and approached the fare box, I saw a slip of paper which said "Free." I thanked the driver, sat down in the front row and preceded to watch as the other riders got on and reacted to the slip of paper. One lady looked angry. One man asked if that paper meant that he could just sit down; he was carrying a brief case full of Financial Newspapers. There were lots of riders at that time, so there were lots of totally different reactions. Some looked relieved, some looked harried, some registered disbelief. Almost no one thanked her!

Finally, a little lady walked up the the front to ask the driver where she would stop next. The driver told her to please stop yelling, to which the little lady replied that she always sounded like that, as she had a loud voice. She got off with no further conversation.

Finally, it was my turn to get off, so I thanked the driver again and wished her a lovely evening. She just smiled at me and looked so relieved that someone actually had paid attention to her.

An Ode to A Cinnamon Roll

Yesterday was my birthday, so, naturally, thoughts of past birthdays and other celebrations came floating by. I can still gleefully see and feel, when I felt most celebrated and loved.
I've spent especially wonderful birth days in Sapporo, Japan, on Isla des Mujeres, Mexico, in Detroit,, Ann Arbor Michigan, in New York, in Kenya, Africa, in Israel and in California.

The day after I always feel a little heart-achy, for another measurable year has come and gone, and I naturally have to account to myself. I bet I am not the only person who does this!

One way I have of giving myself the attention I need to support the accounting, is to discover some comfort food. This helps. Cinnamon rolls are very high on my list, as is Jello, quality chocolate cookies, lamb chops, spaghetti with good tomato sauce - all foods from my childhood. When I got home from elementary school and smelled cinnamon rolls, I knew everything was calm and cool at my house; my mother wanted to bake, and I got a treat. That was a win-win.

I just finished eating one of Starbucks Morning Buns, a fine example of a cinnamon roll.
That was a treat. I guess I'm easy.

Birthdays are really special, for it's simply the day we were born. In my workshops I ask people about this. Some of the stories I've heard are almost unbelievable. Some, who were born near Holidays, have never celebrated their day.

One man who was born on Valentine's Day, now celebrates with huge parties, for the first time. At his childhood home, it was always a national holiday, never his birthday! Another man told me he would never ever eat banana cream cake, again, for his mother baked that for him every single year; it was HER favorite, and she never ever asked him what he wanted. One women knew her father was never home for her birthday, as her father chose to go hunting the first day of the season, which fell on her day. Her mother tried to argue with her in my workshop, but the daughter knew, as she'd lived the pain and the grief of her Dad's leaving that particular day. She felt totally dishonored and abandoned. At least, this adult child really got to tell her mother her truth.

I've given lots of people permission to celebrate, to honor themselves for the day they were born.

I know of lots new birthday celebrators going on around the world. And I still know some who don't want to even know about their birthdays, and I know why, and that's sad for me to hear. Birthdays arrive on time, every year, whether we went them to or not.

So let's pay attention and give ourselves and others the attention we need to mark the day we arrived in our world, hopefully to make it a better place.

Monday Can Be A Perfect Day for Thinking!

It’s one of those Mondays...

It’s a grey day, full of wonderings for me...

Why are so many people, 3 million, following Charlie Sheen on Twitter and buying tickets for his up-coming live national shows? His two in New York at Radio City sold out in 30 minutes...What is he selling? He talks about WINNING, but what is he winning? Are people just eager to see how a celebrity drug addict can continue to hold the public’s attention? Is he a live reality show? What is he offering his audiences?

Meanwhile, in Japan an entire way of life is changing for thousands of people, as everything they’ve loved and owned has been destroyed. They seem to be helping each other survive day to day, which surely is a giant form of winning for them. There’s a generosity of spirit that’s showing up in their daily interactions, that we would be wise to pay attention to. What if...that kind of pervasive tragedy occurred in our country? Would people help each other and share their food and shelter?

What if more people lose their jobs in America? That’s like having a giant personal earth quake here, as families become fractured and can’t maintain their emotional or physical balance and style of living. I've seen and heard more and more personal stories coming from job lay-offs lately, and there doesn't seem to be any cure for this in the near future.

...these thoughts are about how fragile life can become for any of us... I am watching to see how different forms of change effect people and how they choose to survive, I call this "attentive living."

My Japanese Soul Is Hurting Lots These Days.

Whenever I talk about the nine months I spent in Japan, living with a Japanese family, hanging out and working with a Missionary family and absorbing a new culture and a new way of being, I feel as if I'm back in Sapporo again. That time was so super special for me.

And now when I look at the pictures of the devastation that's happening there, I just weep and feel like I've been punched in the stomach. I can't even imagine how changed their lives are going to be.

I've heard back from my Japanese family in Tokyo, who are really alright but shaken up more than they've ever been.
I've asked what I can do. I shall write more about this.

YEA!!! College Kids Speaking Out About SEX and Planned Parenthood's Value!

It's a grey and damp day in New York City and I actually feel likes there's sunshine in my heart.
I just saw a video that college kids from Wesleyan made about their involvement with SEX and the value of Planned Parenthood for them.

Hurray...



Hope it goes viral and gets a billion viewers - it's so real, fun and, yet, serious.
They're speaking out about having SEX...imagine?...or not or wanting to...giggling, smiling, fresh and talking about the services that Planned Parenthood provides: testing, birth control, etc.

We need more young people to shout out messages like this group from Wesleyan, to own what's happening in their world and realize the ramifications of loosing precious services that they have may have been taking for granted and could actually go away.

I think there's an energy building among more people these days - to face what's really happening in our country and how some of the political chaos will personally affect us. We've got to get away from our television sets, our video games, our cell phones to meet with others, to volunteer where we can to help others, to give money when we can...

Oh my, I am beginning to sound like an activist...