A Lesson Learned

 

                   Many years ago, I walked into a yoga class and met a woman I had lived next door to as a child. I was new to the class and she assured me it was wonderful. “It really relaxes you and makes you feel at peace,” she said. “Not that you need that. You always seem so calm.”  It was then I knew that people who don't know me well, have no idea what I'm really like. Apparently I project a very calm exterior. My close friends and family will find that laughable. I am like a bundle of springs compressed in a tiny body. I throw myself into tasks and take the outcome to heart.  Most of the time it's fine. Tension fuels my crazy calendar of work, children's activities, theatre, writing and family life. But I do occasionally pay a price.

                   I've always considered myself politically moderate. But I've begun to realize that  I'm only a moderate by Massachusetts' standards. Compared other parts of the country I'm a bleeding heart liberal.  Four years ago on election night, I felt like a rubber band that had been stretched and stretched as I watched the returns. It looked like Obama would probably win, but I was afraid of being too cocky. I went to bed before the results were finalized and somehow managed to sleep.

                   By morning, it was clear that Obama would be our next president. It was also clear that I hadn't slept peacefully. I had clenched my jaw so hard in my sleep that I broke my tooth. It was the second of the four crowns I now have in my mouth—all from internalizing stress. I now carry an extra dental insurance policy, just for me. So, yes I need all the yoga I can get.

                   Last night a relative of mine wrote on her Facebook wall that she was, “Doing yoga, drinking wine, and making a care package for my sister at college. Sending donations to Red Cross Hurricane Relief and Planned Parenthood. Controlling the things I can control.” Clearly, at half my age, she is  twice as smart. Today I'm going make pumpkin pancakes, go to the chiropractor, walk to the polls with my kids in the autumn sunshine, and do some work for my upcoming show. If there's time, I may get out my yoga mat. Controlling the things we can control. Brilliant.

Election Season Pride

 

                   We were driving to school earlier this week when we heard on the radio that Senate Candidate Elizabeth Warren would be appearing in our hometown that day.

                   “Mom! Did you hear that? Elizabeth Warren is going to be in Brockton today!”

                   My ten-year-old son Owen has been fascinated by the elections this year.

                   “Want me to find out where she's going to be?”

                   “Could we go?”

                   “Sure. As long as it isn't during school. I'll check her website for information.”

                   Owen slumped back in his seat pretending to faint from excitement.

                   The appearance was right after school at a local Greek restaurant. Owen was enraptured by Ms. Warren's stump speech. He waited patiently for our chance to speak to her. She was very gracious and shook both of my boys hands and addressed them each by name.

James, Elizabeth Warren and Owen.

                   I'm excited that my son has shown so much interest in the elections. But the vitriol he's exposed to bothers me. He's completely given up his morning diet of PBS Kids shows for the local news and “Good Morning America”. He hears the attack ads and asks, “Is that true?” Well yes. And no. At ten years old the truth is black and white. He doesn't understand the gray areas. He doesn't understand what happens when quotes are taken out of context or statistics are manipulated. And I doubt I do a very good job of explaining it between tasks during our early morning rush. I've cautioned him about making snap decisions about people who support different candidates than he does. 

The boys with their autograph.

                   For now, I'm proud that he's interested. He isn't old enough to vote yet, but he's smart enough to know that whoever is elected will have an impact on his world. He cares about who is going to be shaping our country. When I vote on Tuesday, I'll be taking my kids with me. I encourage you to do the same.

In Which I Get Angry and Political

 

            I was away all last week with my family on vacation. Today’s blog post was supposed to be a wrap up of the wonderful time we had. But that will have to wait. A former classmate posted something that happened to a member of my college family on Facebook last week that got my blood boiling. I don’t like to discuss religion or politics. It’s something I rarely do I real life and do even less frequently on this blog. But once in a while I feel like I need to stand up and say how I feel. This is what made me so angry:

            This was printed by the Washington DC group who calls themselves "Public Advocate of the United States" and was mailed out across Colorado to attack Sen. Jean White, a supporter of civil unions. What makes the particularly despicable is that it is the actual engagement photograph of a couple from New York City. The original looks like this:

Image if your personal photograph commemorating one of your most precious memories was distorted and used as a weapon to limit someone’s right to marry the person they love. I understand that there are folks out there that believe that gay marriage is wrong. To those people I say, don’t marry someone of the same sex, don’t go to a church that performs same-sex weddings, and if you get invited to a same sex wedding don’t go. But do not stand in the way of your fellow tax paying citizens having the same rights you take for granted.

            I am straight. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am a Christian. I am a patriot. I support same sex marriage. Bigotry and hatred are not family values.