Monday, November 28, 2005
Hooked on Buttons
In this world that we live in we are surrounded daily--sometimes hourly--by the temptation that buttons provide. DVD players, VCRs, iPods, computers, remotes, and elevators are all covered with buttons. When faced with all these choices, we sometimes resort to a childish perspective: Push them all as fast as you can! And sometimes, even when we know that the machine won't go any faster, we still push buttons over and over. Maybe because it is simply entertaining. Maybe because otherwise we will go mad with impatience while we wait. Maybe because what else are we suposed to do--wait paitently?!
Even though I am almost grown up, I still get a thrill when I get to push the elevator button. I don't get to push the button as often as I'd like because I have little siblings and it would be unkind to take the delight away from them. It's fun to push buttons. All the brothers and sisters keep pushing them even when we know it won't make the elevator go any faster because there is a little bit of the kid in all of us, and it is an adventure just to push it.
Occasionally there are times when I just need to do something with my hands. When I am bored, self-conscious, nervous, or listening to something I often need to do something with my hands. Otherwise I don't know what to do with them. In this case, pushing buttons is a very good excuse because my hands are being occupied. Knitting needles are not always available.
When a machine is being obstinate and refusing to go as quickly as we want it to, our impatience sometimes surpasses our self-control. We just want to keep pushing buttons because then we feel like we are helping. Or at least acting, if we aren't helping. It is extreemly difficult to refrain from punching various buttons on my computer when it gets stuck or is being dreadfully slow. I know that pressing buttons will just slow up the computer even more, but it is still hard to prevent myself from venting my frustration on inoccent computer keys.
Buttons are an excellent way to exercise self-control. They have fun shapes! They are shiny! They usually light up! Buttons are pretty awesome. Whatever the reason, we happily push buttons over and over. (And I'm not even getting into pushing other people's "buttons.")
Even though I am almost grown up, I still get a thrill when I get to push the elevator button. I don't get to push the button as often as I'd like because I have little siblings and it would be unkind to take the delight away from them. It's fun to push buttons. All the brothers and sisters keep pushing them even when we know it won't make the elevator go any faster because there is a little bit of the kid in all of us, and it is an adventure just to push it.
Occasionally there are times when I just need to do something with my hands. When I am bored, self-conscious, nervous, or listening to something I often need to do something with my hands. Otherwise I don't know what to do with them. In this case, pushing buttons is a very good excuse because my hands are being occupied. Knitting needles are not always available.
When a machine is being obstinate and refusing to go as quickly as we want it to, our impatience sometimes surpasses our self-control. We just want to keep pushing buttons because then we feel like we are helping. Or at least acting, if we aren't helping. It is extreemly difficult to refrain from punching various buttons on my computer when it gets stuck or is being dreadfully slow. I know that pressing buttons will just slow up the computer even more, but it is still hard to prevent myself from venting my frustration on inoccent computer keys.
Buttons are an excellent way to exercise self-control. They have fun shapes! They are shiny! They usually light up! Buttons are pretty awesome. Whatever the reason, we happily push buttons over and over. (And I'm not even getting into pushing other people's "buttons.")
Monday, November 21, 2005
Save the Food!
I love being in a big family; there are many pros and very few cons. One very unfortunate con is the regretable development of the instinct to lunge for your favorite food at the dinner table. This arises, in my family at least, from no lack of food--we have no fear that we will starve. It is simply an impulse that must be overcome.
I think the instinct comes from a developed sense that if we can get to the food before anyone else, and if no one forces us to stop before the food is on our plate, then we are safe. Kind of like the game of tag. Aother example is baseball: if we get to the plate before the ball, we are safe. It is a game.
A few years ago my sister and I went to Hawaii with our Girl Scout troop--it was a total blast, the people are incredibly kind, and the trip ruined pineapple for me for the rest of my life because no pineapple will ever measure up to fresh Hawaiian pineapple. We were eating buffet style and I had gotten something that my sister hadn't. She asked for a bite and reached onto my plate and I yelled "No!" and quickly pulled my plate away. And then I came to my senses, there was no reason my sister shouldn't have some! But my instantanial response was primal: "Ahhh! She's taking my food!"
Thanksgiving is a wonderful time. Not only are we able to focus on all our many blessings, but we are also able to know, even on the most sub-conscious leval, that there is enough food for up to thirteen second servings.
I think the instinct comes from a developed sense that if we can get to the food before anyone else, and if no one forces us to stop before the food is on our plate, then we are safe. Kind of like the game of tag. Aother example is baseball: if we get to the plate before the ball, we are safe. It is a game.
A few years ago my sister and I went to Hawaii with our Girl Scout troop--it was a total blast, the people are incredibly kind, and the trip ruined pineapple for me for the rest of my life because no pineapple will ever measure up to fresh Hawaiian pineapple. We were eating buffet style and I had gotten something that my sister hadn't. She asked for a bite and reached onto my plate and I yelled "No!" and quickly pulled my plate away. And then I came to my senses, there was no reason my sister shouldn't have some! But my instantanial response was primal: "Ahhh! She's taking my food!"
Thanksgiving is a wonderful time. Not only are we able to focus on all our many blessings, but we are also able to know, even on the most sub-conscious leval, that there is enough food for up to thirteen second servings.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Socks Are of a Very Enterprising Nature
My family has had an orphan socks box for as long as I can remember. This box is the home for single socks--ones that suppsoedly entered the laundry basket with a mate, but are now alone. It is one of life's great mysteries, where socks go and why they left. In my youth I was inclined to feel pity for those lonesomes, the orphan socks. But I think they must have many adventures.
A sock's life is a very interesting one, I think. They go to very interesting places on our feet. So when socks are by themselves they may want to go out and explore some more. Orphan socks may get lost on purpose, just to have their own adventures.
The villainous static electricity may also have something to do with the disapperance of the ordinary orphan sock. Think about it: being trapped between a sheet and a towel is surely no fun when you are the size and disposition of a sock. It would be a simple trick for a sock to be completely swallowed up in the magnitude of something so big.
Socks may also be stolen from our laundry. Just put your mind to it and you can think of many people who would want your socks: sisters, for example (although my experience is that they take clean socks; still, you never know) dogs, little brothers making sling-shots. A sock can be a coveted thing.
Someday we may solve the disappearing sock mystery, and maybe not. But every once in a while an orphan sock comes through that was lost or forgotten, and when that sock is reunited with its mate, the joining is a sweet thing to behold. And a comfort for your feet.
A sock's life is a very interesting one, I think. They go to very interesting places on our feet. So when socks are by themselves they may want to go out and explore some more. Orphan socks may get lost on purpose, just to have their own adventures.
The villainous static electricity may also have something to do with the disapperance of the ordinary orphan sock. Think about it: being trapped between a sheet and a towel is surely no fun when you are the size and disposition of a sock. It would be a simple trick for a sock to be completely swallowed up in the magnitude of something so big.
Socks may also be stolen from our laundry. Just put your mind to it and you can think of many people who would want your socks: sisters, for example (although my experience is that they take clean socks; still, you never know) dogs, little brothers making sling-shots. A sock can be a coveted thing.
Someday we may solve the disappearing sock mystery, and maybe not. But every once in a while an orphan sock comes through that was lost or forgotten, and when that sock is reunited with its mate, the joining is a sweet thing to behold. And a comfort for your feet.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Communication Is the Glue
There are many, many things that can go wrong in a relationship, I think. But I believe the key to success is communication—the glue that holds together any relationship. Sometimes it is a little bit hard to get it just right. But triumph is possible! It is something I am still working on myself, though. How do we achieve this most distant goal of complete understanding, you might ask? Well, talking would help. Trying to walk in someone else’s shoes and trying to see the whole picture may also do the job.
To tackle the first: although there are so many ways to communicate (phones, cell-phones, email, letters, fax, etc) I think we are still missing something. So far as I am aware, we have not broken the talking mind-to-mind barrier. It’s a real pity in some respects, but no matter how we look at it, most of the people we encounter day-to-day cannot read our minds. (Moms, spouses and teachers are often exception.) I remember a stage I went through when I just wouldn't talk to my family if I could at all avoid it. I just contrarily refused to. It didn't make anyone's life easier. We must talk to each other! We must refuse to be lazy. We must refuse to be misunderstood.
Our lives are often hard and sometimes absolutely wonderful. To communicate well we all have to recognize that the people around us may not be going through the same emotions that we are. We need to want to understand. When people are injured we wince. When my dad tells stories of his old tackle football injuries (that his mom told him not to play and he did anyway), the blood spurting out, I cringe. We have the ability to empathize and we can naturally communicate what we feel. Sometimes everything needed for communication is already in front of us, and we just need to open our eyes, put forth the effort and interpret the information correctly.
My family always teases my dad about the phone messages he leaves. If he is calling to be picked up from work than he will give us three different scenarios of what he might do, and all the possible ways we could respond. It’s really funny, but very sweet. My dad just wants us all to be on the same page. He wants us to know everything he might do so that he does not inconvenience us. He tells us all the things we could do, that he expects us to do so that we don’t miss each other. Consequently, his phone messages are very long and we all laugh. But the more productive result is that Dad and the person who picks him up know what to expect for each other. As we look at our lives we need to see the whole picture, not just as it concerns us, but everyone. With everything before us, we can easily see what needs to be communicated and to whom.
It’s a busy world, and if we do not communicate with each other we will miss things. If we don't have glue we will fall apart. And Elmer's glue won't work either.
To tackle the first: although there are so many ways to communicate (phones, cell-phones, email, letters, fax, etc) I think we are still missing something. So far as I am aware, we have not broken the talking mind-to-mind barrier. It’s a real pity in some respects, but no matter how we look at it, most of the people we encounter day-to-day cannot read our minds. (Moms, spouses and teachers are often exception.) I remember a stage I went through when I just wouldn't talk to my family if I could at all avoid it. I just contrarily refused to. It didn't make anyone's life easier. We must talk to each other! We must refuse to be lazy. We must refuse to be misunderstood.
Our lives are often hard and sometimes absolutely wonderful. To communicate well we all have to recognize that the people around us may not be going through the same emotions that we are. We need to want to understand. When people are injured we wince. When my dad tells stories of his old tackle football injuries (that his mom told him not to play and he did anyway), the blood spurting out, I cringe. We have the ability to empathize and we can naturally communicate what we feel. Sometimes everything needed for communication is already in front of us, and we just need to open our eyes, put forth the effort and interpret the information correctly.
My family always teases my dad about the phone messages he leaves. If he is calling to be picked up from work than he will give us three different scenarios of what he might do, and all the possible ways we could respond. It’s really funny, but very sweet. My dad just wants us all to be on the same page. He wants us to know everything he might do so that he does not inconvenience us. He tells us all the things we could do, that he expects us to do so that we don’t miss each other. Consequently, his phone messages are very long and we all laugh. But the more productive result is that Dad and the person who picks him up know what to expect for each other. As we look at our lives we need to see the whole picture, not just as it concerns us, but everyone. With everything before us, we can easily see what needs to be communicated and to whom.
It’s a busy world, and if we do not communicate with each other we will miss things. If we don't have glue we will fall apart. And Elmer's glue won't work either.
