Rachel S. Heslin

On resolve

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Tue, 3 Jan 12 14:26:00 UT

I heard a great story on a podcast I was listening to a week or two ago (I think it was Derek Rydall):

A man was sitting with an old woman whom he had sought out for advice on his path. After giving him information, the woman said, "Now, please make a decision."

He said, "I have decided to go that way," pointing to the eastern road.

She smiled and said, "Ah, I see. Now, please make a decision."

Confused, he said, a little more loudly, "I'm going to go that way."

She still smiled, nodded, and repeated, "Please make a decision."

Now irritated, the man got up. "Forget this," he thought to himself, and he started walking toward the eastern road.

The woman's smile broadened. "Yes!" she said. "Thank you for making a decision."

*****
I haven't thought much about resolutions this year. But I have been cleaning my kitchen.
:D

I can't make this stuff up

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Sun, 9 Oct 11 21:51:00 UT

As part of our current bedtime ritual, I asked Hunter what he liked about today. He didn't say anything.

Shawn: Well? Your mother asked what you liked about today.

Hunter: I'm thinking.
(puts small dinosaur finger puppet on and starts waving it around.)
While I'm thinking, please enjoy the entertainment.

(I close my eyes, trying not to laugh. I feel a soft poke from the puppet at my nose.)

Hunter: It's in 4D! The show is so realistic, it seems like you can actually feel it!

Reinventing the wheel

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Fri, 23 Sep 11 08:13:00 UT

Some time ago, someone (Jim Hines? Scalzi? Maybe Keith Snyder) postulated a hypothetical timeline for the self-publishing industry that looked something like this:

1. We don't need no stinking publishers!
2. Publishing companies collapse.
3. Gee, there's an awful lot of junk to wade through out here.
4. Hey! If I cull through the junk, pick out the good stuff, edit and market it, I could probably make some money!
5. Return of publishers.

The thing is, looking at the rise of the Tea Party, I'm starting to wonder if this is what is going to happen to our government....

Conveying 9/11

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Sun, 11 Sep 11 13:07:00 UT

How do you tell a seven-year-old about 9/11?

I was reading an essay about the passengers of flight 93. Hunter was on the other side of the room, rocking his chair back and forth. I snapped at him, telling him he could break it, then paused, and apologized. He asked why I was apologizing; I said I didn't have a lot of patience today, and I was sorry.

He asked me why I didn't have a lot of patience today.

I said because I was sad about something that happened 10 years ago. Hunter being Hunter, he came over and asked to know what had happened.

We had already discussed what hijacking was, explaining why we needed to go through security procedures at airports.

I told him about people flying two planes into big buildings and making them fall down, killing lots of people. I told him about another plane that had been hijacked and crashed in the Pentagon, a big building where people who made decisions about our military, our country's ability to fight and defend us worked.

He wanted to know why people would want to kill other people like that. I said I didn't know, exactly, but they were angry, and they thought that there were things about America that were wrong and they wanted to cripple us.

I am grateful that, for once, he didn't ask me to explain further.

I told him about the 4th plane, where the people on board found out about the other crashes and decided to fight back, keep the hijackers from killing anyone else with the plane, knowing even as they fought that they would be killed, themselves.

We talked about the firefighters, paramedics and police who ran into the Twin Towers, even as everyone else was running out. I told him about the firefighters who, in the race to evacuate the building, stopped to help a woman who was too exhausted to go any further, and how by carrying her with them, slowed their own descent such that they were above the levels of pancaked floors that would have crushed them if they'd been faster. I told him what it was like on that day, watching the news, not knowing how many people were dead; we expected the body count to be as high as 15 or 20 thousand people. Tragic as the over 3,000 deaths are, we forget the relief that the number was not exponentially higher.

All through telling him this, watching Hunter's face: the innocence, the grief, quivering hope and naked relief.

I told him of my friend, Tad, who had flown to NYC on September 10th and was scheduled to speak at the UN, yet found himself part of a Ground Zero bucket brigade. Curled up together, Hunter and I read the "Dog Heroes of 9/11" chapter of his newest Magic Treehouse Fact Tracker book about how 400 Search and Rescue dogs had helped find people buried in the rubble, then we eased out of the discussion by reading the rest of the book.

Oh, Hunter. There is so much beauty in the world, so much kindness, joy and love.

But there is also much of grief and sorrow, and that, too, is Life.

Rollovers are hugs

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Thu, 25 Aug 11 08:31:00 UT

Hunter (during night nights): Rollovers are hugs!
Shawn: Rollovers are hugs?
Hunter: Don't ask me why I said that.
Shawn (being silly): Why did you say that?
Hunter (matter-of-factly): You don't listen very well.

The pledge of allegiance

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Mon, 4 Jul 11 12:28:00 UT

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the ideals for which it stands: liberty and justice for all.

There are reasons why this is the pledge I make. For one thing, I believe that the ideals of liberty and justice transcend political borders.

And leaving out the part about being "under God" -- ?

Some people point out that the "under God" part of the pledge of allegiance is a relatively new addition and therefore non-canonical. That's true. But traditions often change.

Some people talk about the separation of church and state. This, I feel very strongly about -- but what does that actually mean? When phrased like that, it seems an awfully abstract concept. After all, the pledge is just a bunch of words, right? Nobody is actually being forced to be religious, right?

Here is what it means:

The existence of a divine being is not dependent upon belief. There may or may not be a God. Whether or not someone believes in God has absolutely no effect whatsoever on whether or not there is one. Therefore, individual beliefs are just that: individual beliefs.

I know a lot of decent, moral, ethical, passionate people who are not just uncertain, but who actively disbelieve that there is a God. They are still Americans, and their ability to state their lack of belief without being thrown in prison is one of the reasons I am grateful to be an American.

Let freedom ring.

Vibrance

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Wed, 25 May 11 21:27:00 UT

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to know what lies beneath what we think we know. On what are we basing the paradigms within which we choose the course of our lives?

This process of questioning, searching, poking and kicking at the foundations of my beliefs has resulted in continual, cumulative shifts in my perspective. When I was younger, I used to pendulum, shifting from one extreme to its opposite, gradually settling somewhere in the middle. As I've gotten older, most of my shifts have become more incremental, and I'd thought I understood at least the basics.

And yet....

Over the past couple of years, I broke through something. I don't even think I can identify exactly what it was that broke, because it started a cascade of epiphanies, each a brilliant facet of enlightenment that startled me with its clarity.

In wonder, I watched as the assumptions and Shoulds that I had thought made of stone proved themselves mere shadows, and the walls of my fortress thinned and became ephemeral, warm sunlight starting to filter through their increasing translucence, ghosts of fears dissipating as the too long neglected garden within began to tentatively stir itself, shy shoots peeking out from the soil, stretching, growing, spreading leaves and branches and vines and flowers, so many flowers, all shapes and sizes and colors, their fragrance sometimes light, sometimes strong and heady, all this growth filling the spaces between the remaining stones, pushing them apart, dissolving them, until I could feel that the core of my very being had changed. Where once it had been hard and rigid, easily damaged, it was now strong, flexible, self-healing.

Alive.

As am I.

In this moment

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Sat, 14 May 11 12:50:00 UT

I used to spend a lot of time online, reading and writing blogs, commenting, seeing what friends were doing and thinking, holding forth and debating all sorts of things.

Lately, though, I've been finding myself pulling more towards home, towards investing more of myself in my actual (vs. virtual) life. Sure, I still send updates to Facebook and Twitter from my phone, and I'll skim over people's updates and comment here and there, but it's a far cry from my previous involvement.

I used to see my every possible action as a continually shifting series of complexly nested If-Then statements to a degree that might well have given Hari Seldon a headache. Every nuance of choice and interaction opened up a completely different possible future.

Lately, though, I've been feeling kind of overwhelmed by my life. There are so many factors beyond my control that, even if I acknowledge and accept that lack of control, trying to account for so many permutations of possibility has become paralytic.

*****

One of the very, very few blogs I make an effort to read regularly is by a Presbyterian minister named MaryAnn McKibben Dana. For whatever reason, she addresses numerous issues that resonate deeply with what I am personally struggling with and/or striving for. Among other things, she is currently writing a book about the value of deliberately observing Sabbath in our lives, and I have been working so hard to catch up with my never-ending To Do list, that I need the reminders that it is necessary to also allow one's self to Be.

But there is one entry which keeps coming back to me, a poem about the fallacy of the need to draw a line in the sand.

It's not about the future.
It's not about What If.
It's not about the weight of the world.
It's about now.

When faced with a choice, any choice, of an action, my mantra has become, "In this moment..." That simple phrase brings me back to the present and connects me with my life. And I have been finding that, when I am present and connected with life, I instinctively choose that which creates, moment by chosen moment, a path of love.

Sleepyhead

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Thu, 10 Mar 11 18:54:00 UT

When I awoke Hunter this morning, he snuggled into me. He's getting so big, becoming so sure of himself and his place in the world.

So I held him in my arms, breathing him in, cherishing his soft, trusting warmth, knowing that, years from now, when he towers over me and he is a teenager, then a man, one day a father to his own children, alongside all the memories of his evolving beauty, this Hunter who lies against me now will always live in my heart.

Mirror, mirror

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Wed, 9 Mar 11 00:08:00 UT

Conservatives who claim that the ACORN, Planned Parenthood and now NPR "expose'" tapes show evidence of obvious mendacity on the part of each of those organizations are like those who jumped on the shooting of Rep. Giffords as proof that the "lock'n'load" verbiage used by conservatives was deliberately (or at least irresponsibly) inciting.

In each of these examples, people weigh more strongly that which they believe vindicates their fears/beliefs, often to the detriment of verifying veracity.

Musings on "self-interest": a fantasy

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Tue, 15 Feb 11 15:33:00 UT

The recent revolt in Egypt has nothing to do with the US of A. Will Mubarak be replaced by politicians who hate what they think the US is and stands for? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe we need to focus more on burnishing our Shining Beacon than on trying to manipulate and cajole other countries into being nice to us.

A friend recently quoted Madeleine L'Engle as saying, "We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it."

Maybe foreign policy could be conducted in the same spirit.

Like the entry title says: it's a fantasy. But perhaps one worth considering.

Disagreement vs demonization

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Sun, 16 Jan 11 21:30:00 UT

Someone asked me the difference between political disagreement and demonization. I came up with the following description:

Demonization is saying nasty things about your opponent rather than disagreeing with his or her ideas.

Demonization is labeling and dismissing large groups of people instead of discussing the efficacy of specific policies.

Demonization is refusing to accept that there might be common ground if we looked beyond the labels.

In short: disagreement is natural and can be productive if it leads to a deeper understanding of the true nature of problems and more creative ways of finding solutions that address a wide variety of different concerns. Demonization, on the other hand, is self-defeating and makes life harder for everyone.

From tragedy, inspiration

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Thu, 13 Jan 11 16:55:00 UT

[W]hat we can't do is use this tragedy as one more occasion to turn on one another. As we discuss these issues, let each of us do so with a good dose of humility. Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together....

The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better in our private lives -- to be better friends and neighbors, co-workers and parents. And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their deaths help usher in more civility in our public discourse, let's remember that it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy, but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to our challenges as a nation, in a way that would make them proud. It should be because we want to live up to the example of public servants like John Roll and Gabby Giffords, who knew first and foremost that we are all Americans, and that we can question each other's ideas without questioning each other's love of country, and that our task, working together, is to constantly widen the circle of our concern so that we bequeath the American dream to future generations.

I believe we can be better.

Those who died here, those who saved lives here -- they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another is entirely up to us. I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us.

That's what I believe, in part because that's what a child like Christina Taylor Green believed. Imagine: here was a young girl who was just becoming aware of our democracy; just beginning to understand the obligations of citizenship; just starting to glimpse the fact that someday she, too, might play a part in shaping her nation's future. She had been elected to her student council; she saw public service as something exciting, something hopeful. She was off to meet her congresswoman, someone she was sure was good and important and might be a role model. She saw all this through the eyes of a child, undimmed by the cynicism or vitriol that we adults all too often just take for granted.

I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it. All of us -- we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children's expectations.

-- President Barack Obama, January 12, 2011

Socio-political climate

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Mon, 10 Jan 11 20:56:00 UT

I originally wrote this as a comment on a Facebook thread discussing reasons why Jared Loughner murdered a 9-year old girl and five other people, wounding almost a dozen others while trying to assassinate Rep. Gabrielle Giffords. I had linked to an article pointing out that merely blaming the suspect as being "mentally ill" was a cop out.

*****

1. Mental illness isn't inherently dangerous. Lots of people come into the clinical classification of "mentally ill" (whether or not clinical classification is too strict a delineation of what may be considered a spectrum of "acceptable" or "normal" behavior is another discussion) without any tendencies towards violence.

2. People who are addicted to drugs, alcohol, and other mood/mind/impulse affecting substances are more likely to act on violent impulses than those who are considered "mentally ill."

3. Something needs to provoke an impulse toward violence to be acted upon. Often, that impulse is fueled by fear that manifests as a belief that one must resort to violence in order to protect oneself, and/or a dehumanization of the Other that denies the impact of one's actions.

It is this last factor that can be influenced by an environment of blame and fear-mongering.

NOTE: I am NOT saying that it's Sarah Palin's fault that this guy murdered a bunch of people. I am saying that it is irresponsible FOR ANYONE to actively promote fear over understanding and communication, because it taints us all.

Why I don't have a Bucket List

RSHeslin AT gmail DOT com — Thu, 16 Dec 10 19:01:00 UT

We had a lovely retreat for (from?) work today. There was a lot of sharing and discussion with some truly wonderful people about how we help those whose lives we touch. The very last "assignment" was to write a list of 5 things we wanted to do before we died.

I had no desire to participate.

It's not that I have done everything I want to do, even though, on paper, I actually have done a lot. It's that my focus has shifted (even more than I have previously alluded to) from doing to being.

When I first saw It's A Wonderful Life, I found it to be one of the most depressing movies I had ever seen. Here is a guy who never had the chance to pursue his dreams. I found that idea heartbreaking.

And yet, years later, I get it.

A lot of what I have been doing the past couple of years is learning how to let go of expectations. I like the idea of exploring, of seeking new experiences, of stretching beyond one's comfortable boundaries. But it seems to me that framing interests in the form of a Bucket List implies, "If I do these specific things, I will be happy." Which also implies the reverse corollary: "If I don't do these things, I will die unfulfilled." And it is this potentially corrosive assumption that I dislike.

Because, like George Bailey, what I have learned is that happiness isn't about specific things you may or may not have done in your life.

It's how you live it.