MoxieLife

Team Couch Watches What They Say

How cocky are you? Last night Team Couch (who was in Germany, but was running the race so fast we couldn't blog about it!) noticed that if you are too sure of yourself or brag about yourself too much you will get U Turned. Bad news for the cute married couple who then couldn't do a bit of Morris Code (seriously could any of you have done that with bombs going off above you?)

The bigger lesson I see is that if you are talking about how great you are or how dumb the other teams are watch out. The teams are listening and they are very aware of what each of the other teams is saying. Here is the thing though; who really is better at any one challenge?

My husband and I are pretty smart and he (I admit this) is pretty strong (I would be the weaker link there). Does that matter though? Does that make you a better player? It seems that the teams are sizing each other up on how smart they are, in fact, the lesbian team has made fun of the other teams for being stupid - last night they kept saying that "smart people do Morris Code and dumb people crawl through trenches". The thing was, though, that the teams that only crawled did just fine - how smart are they now?

So, does intelligence matter on the Amazing Race? Maybe not, but being careful about what you say definitely does because another team is going to bite you in the ass if they don't like the trash you are talking.

Team Couch slipped by on this, but has to admit that they learned a big lesson on this leg of the Amazing Race!

Photo Credit: DaveAustria.com

Stop the Panic

Do you get spun out? Do things trigger you to fly off in a rage? Panic? Or down the path to doom? It sure happens to me and I have been looking at it from every angle. What is it about me (us, you) that makes us lose our cool, feel threatened, or run like Chicken Little at the smallest of words? Why can't we just listen and not panic?

I am sure it is in our primal soup, that reptilian brain that allows us to fight or flee. I am also sure it is tribal. We are sizing up our "competition", aligning ourselves with our team, and baring our teeth to show that we are warriors. We are also afraid to be wrong, alone, look stupid, or have the earth fall away from our feet.

The reality is though that life IS uncontrollable and if we could just not spin out every time we felt panic we might be more balanced.

I know that it is scary to think there is no grand plan. Some people can't imagine living in a way that makes space for the idea that you ultimately are not in control. It might seem hard to live with making plans, but knowing that the smallest thing could throw those plans out the window - and here is the key - being OK with that.

The experiment that I am trying, and I am not succeeding with flying colors, is to just stop a moment and feel the feeling. For example, the mail carries yet another blow to my ever shrinking bank account and rather then feeling the ultimate doom and peril that new bill brings to me and my family - going down the path to poverty and desperation - I am just feeling that tiny piece of fear. I am not saying anything. I am not doing anything. I am just feeling that first twinge of fear, breathing, and then seeing what happens next.

If I can remember to stop and experience that little ounce of panic without it shifting my entire day I can feel a moment of true peace.

Mail comes, unexpected bills happen, it all will work out in some way. I can make it a mountain or I can let it just be another piece to the quilt of my life. That is ultimately my choice.

Is this easy? Hell no. I wanted to panic. I wanted to call my friend and complain. I wanted to start the slippery ride to financial ruin in my mind. I wanted to have a tantrum. Would ANY of that change the reality of the bill in my hand? No. Would I feel better? No. I have done that pattern before and I know that it just further cements my unhappiness rather then putting me on a path towards being whole.

The key, catch that first pang of unease before it becomes a landslide of emotion. And practice, practice, practice.

Photo Credit: nevermindtheend

Don't Bind Me Up With Your Religion

Be more religious. Get more religion. Aren't we a religion? Ugh. I was so exhausted after just reading the UUA Presidents column in the UU World this month that I couldn't even continue. His message - get religion. And he did this very UU thing where he broke the word into Latin to show that it doesn't really mean god, prayer, Jesus - it means to bind. Bleck. If I talk to a normal person on the street about religion they are going to think it means god and puffing it up by breaking it down into it's Latin root doesn't make us able to communicate with them.

Can you imagine it?

    Hey, what church do you go to?

        Assembly of God. (Baptist, Mormon, Catholic, Episcopalian, etc.)

    Do you feel it is religious?

        Oh yeah.

    Us too, I'm UU and we are religious - we are bound together.

        With God?

    Um, no. Just in the Latin meaning of the word....

        Oh, I'll pray for you.

Seriously, what is wrong with us that we have to muck around with language to feel like we are more mainstream? Can't we accept the average persons meaning of a word and move on?

East of Midnight has a nice post about us being more religious. I, of course, in a moment of frustration wrote a snippy comment about our little Atheist minority soon being wiped out of the UUA and they can take over with whatever version of religion they want.

She wrote me a nice email saying she wanted diversity and I believe her, but I wonder if the rest of the denomination really does want that diversity. Trust me when the top says they want us to be more religious, no matter how they define it, it isn't very welcoming.

Photo Credit: Napalm Filled Tires

MoveOn.org Get Out

I am really angry. Steam boiling mad, actually. Where does this rage stem from? MoveOn.org. What?! Yep. MoveOn.org. It all started innocently enough.

They sent me an email months ago asking if I would be voting for Blanche Lincoln our Arkansas Senator. Yep, I said. I would.

Then they sent an email asking if I would be working to get her elected. Yep, I said. I would.

Now I know you liberal democrats in other parts of the country are cringing that I would support this"big business" "insurance industry" blue dog Democrat. Well, let me tell you something. 8 years ago I wouldn't have. But that was when I was looking at the politics of our great nation through San Francisco rose colored glasses. I thought everyone should be like the tree loving Barbara Boxer. Why couldn't the Democrats reflect that liberal spirit. Well fast forward to our move to Arkansas and my indoctrination into Southern culture, Southern politics, and a people with good hearts - but slow to change minds. Folks, my rose colored specs were worthless here and to think everyone should think like me was pretty narrow minded.

So, now MoveOn.org is asking me to fight for Bill Halter in the primary against Blanche Lincoln - he fits their version of what a Democrat looks like. Nice. Some group from another state is telling me how my state should run, all while wearing their fogged up glasses from Washington.

Sure, Blanche fucked up on health care. There is no good way to say that, but where were they then? Were they helping the Democrat from a conservative state navigate the tricky waters of small government while still caring for their people? NO! They let her hang in the wind.

So, here is what I predict. Blanche with her war chest will fight Halter. There aren't enough progressive Dem's in the state to vote for Halter and she has way more money. So, they will publicly duke it out. She'll win and then she will have to use her remaining coffers to fight whatever crazy abortion hating, neo conservative crap head that runs against her. We will LOSE our senate seat to that crazy asshole.

So, here is what I want. MoveOn.org - stop screwing with state politics. You aren't helping. Wait until we are fighting the real bad guys. When we fight amongst ourselves we waste our energy. And what I really want is there to be a moratorium in allowing out of state money or influence to effect state politics.

I love my California politicians, even Nancy, but I know that their version of being a Dem doesn't work here in the South and I am OK with that. Let's work on our own backyards for a change, MoveOn.org get out of mine.

No Right Way To Sweep a Sidewalk

I wonder sometimes why we are so quick to criticize another person, find fault, or even feel the need to express an opposing view - about everything. Isn't someone elses way to do something just as good? Aren't there a million ways to do any one thing? Why is my way, her way, their way, your way better?

This week I was instrumental, with a group of highly motivated coordinators, to do a citywide clean up. We had 10 organizations and over 65 people come out and sweep, pick up trash, wipe down newspaper boxes, wash windows, remove Christmas lights, etc. At one point a tourist stopped me on the street and asked how the city could afford so many people to clean. When I shared with her that they were volunteers she just couldn't believe it. Well, one shop keeper decided to tell two volunteers that our efforts were in vain and to not sweep "her" sidewalk. Seriously.

Then a member of our Fellowship was unsure why our Facebook page was named the way it was. I explained that it was named to reflect the town so that if you were searching for the town or the name you would be able to find it. She was not sure that was a good thing. So, I said I would be happy to take it down and someone else could build and maintain the fan page. After some time she said no, keep doing what I am doing.

Today we had another group of volunteers out finishing up some cleaning and two people called to complain how they were doing it. Seriously. I told them both to either go help them or be grateful for all the hard work they are doing.

And really, that is what is happening for me lately. I realize that we (and sometimes me too) are missing the idea of being grateful for what people do. They may not do it the way we want them to. We might not understand why they are doing it. We might not even like what they are doing. But they are doing something - they are contributing to society. There is no right way to sweep a sidewalk. Be grateful, or get out there and help. Don't stand on the side giving your 2 cents - we don't need that kind of "help".

Photo Credit: Okinawa Soba

Thoughts This Friday

I have a lot of thoughts going around in my mind this Friday. I have been incredibly busy - in a good way - and that usually generates more creativity in me. I need both the quiet down time and the hectic busy time to make it all happen, but here are my current brain buzzes.

Doing Good Work: Yesterday I led a community volunteer program to clean our city prior to a huge conference coming to town. Three of us made calls, connected groups, scouted dirt, and generated the publicity all within a week and a half. And yesterday was amazing. We had 40 people show up to clean the town. They swept, raked, pulled weeds, picked up trash, washed the newspaper stands, washed windows, and carted away 5.9 pounds of cigarette butts. It made me realize that all I want to do on the planet is Good Work. I don't want to talk about doing it, I don't want to talk about someone else not doing it, and I don't want to be snarky. There is a great amount of pride in doing good work and I am hooked.

The 24 Hour News Cycle is Killing American Politics: I wish that some university would let me write this thesis, submit it and grant me an honorary degree. I have been thinking a lot about what makes a good leader. Good leaders need time for reflection, discussion, deliberation, and action. They can not be reactionary to the whims of the "news". If we had to live our lives to create sound bites or deflect sound bites we would be less effective in our day to day. It is not to late for our young democracy to fail and maybe Fox/CNN/CNBC might just be the hammer on the nail. Definitely more to come about this.

Adult Religious Education: I emailed my fellowship about the possibility of providing an Adult RE Class - the one the LE is always raving about on Facebook. I got immediate responses of Yes, Me Too, I want that. It mad me wonder if we are missing a key component in our lives in small congregations that don't frequently offer Adult RE - that need to explore our faith, develop our spiritual vocabulary, and connect with our fellowship in a deeper way. What would it take for small fellowships and churches that are lay led to create dynamic Adult RE programming? What could the districts or UUA provide? What could we provide one another?

Pumpkin Cranberry Pie: I make an awesome Apple Cranberry Pie. It is sweet and tangy. It has a honest home made taste that can not be bought. Now though, I am trying to figure out how to make a Pumpkin Cranberry Pie - a pie that incorporates my very favorite part of Thanksgiving. More development to come for sure.

That's it for this Friday. Do good work, don't watch the news, learn something and eat pie!

Photo: Me and my niece Sarah at Thanksgiving at my parents house.

Drag My Ass Back to the Cushion

I know I feel better when I sit (meditate) and yet carving out the time seems impossible. It is a solitary act and I don't live by myself. It feels odd to put myself in a room, sit quietly, and hope that I don't get interrupted by the family.

But that part that says I feel better was egging me on in the biggest way.

So, Sunday night I dragged the cushions that were used for the porch swing last summer upstairs before I went to bed. My husband asked me what I was doing. I just said I was on a mission.

Then, Monday morning, after my shower I crawled into some sweats and sat for 20 minutes. It wasn't a huge epiphany. The dog wanted in half way through and I had to come down stairs and let him in. The cat wanted to be petted. The other cat wanted to smell the dog. My phone started beeping. And yet I sat. It felt great to get back on the cushion.

Creative Commons Photo

Lessons Learned by Team Couch on the Amazing Race

Team Couch was ready this week to jump on the bus and head to Argentina. We had our hemp protein shake, mini chocolate chip pecan cookies, and Perrier. We parked on the couch ready to roll. We are learning some important lessons on this season of the Amazing Race.

First, it helps not to be dumb. Or to say that nicer, read the directions. Some of these teams don't seem to be able to read a map or follow directions. One team kept bringing their loot to the gunslinger in the field when it clearly said bring it to the station, another just drove around in circles, and another thought they wouldn't follow the directions and just roam the field looking for loot. Stupid, then again, maybe that is the psychological test that this season is running - can stupid people run the Amazing Race. Remember, we do have that lovely pageant contestant. Oh yeah, and what does Spartacus have to do with the game of polo?

Second, sometimes you are just lucky. The cowboys were asked to rope a bale of hay and ride a "horse". Cowboys ropin' and ridin'. There is no doubt that they were lucky. Perhaps next time they will be painting nails, sky diving or dancing a hula - not so lucky.

Third, praying to your god isn't going to help you win. It doesn't matter how many times you pray to get you through a challenge it isn't going to get you through the race. I don't think god really cares if you are running the race, but that is just me. Stop praying, read the directions (see the first lesson) and focus on what you are supposed to be doing.

So, last night we saw the elimination of the mom's. That's ok, they were a weak team that just didn't have the stamina. I wanted the lesbian couple to bite the dust - their bickering is annoying both to them and us. Go home already. Maybe next week. Speaking of next week we would have a real problem because I do not drink and I wouldn't be able to do the beer challenge - I wonder what penalty there would be if I just didn't do that? Hmmm... Team Couch will have to ponder that. GOOOOOOOOO! TEAM COUCH!

Photo Credit: mharrasch