Beautiful lies.

Recently I have been confronted with third hand “updates” on people I know well, and who I don’t recognize in the tales told. It’s been like a déjà vu from when we were kids and played the whispering game. You know: the game where we sit in a circle or a row and the first person whisper something in the next person’s ear and the word or sentence travels down the row to the last person who say it out loud. Kids find it very amusing how the statement was changed when the first person tells what he or she actually said.

It is funny when you are a kid and it is all very innocent. Not so much when you are an adult, and life is not all that innocent anymore. At the end of the day it’s not what we have which defines us, but who we are. And who we are is basically what is said about us. Intimidating but never the less true… I think.

I don’t lie. It’s not that I don’t appreciate a convenient white lie, but I am too distracted to remember what I said last, and having firsthand experience with how painful corners I paint myself in can be, I avoid them. BUT, if anyone by chance should tell me I am beautiful, I know I am not but that doesn’t prevent me from shining for a brief moment.

The truth, however, can be hurtful. Self-deception is probably the most comforting state we can lull ourselves into. It usually doesn’t hurt anyone else than ourselves either. We just live in a bubble of being content with the state of things, believing we have no problems or issues, until the truth hits.

Truth can hit you hard, and yet there is a distinct beauty in truth, even if it's painful. Budda stated that “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth”. As we go about our daily life living by our standards it will be noticed and false words attacking our integrity will eventually be corrected. Like a law of nature, but we shouldn’t have to deal with it.

When people tell you what you want to hear, nothing productive comes out of it, nothing except the fact you feel good about yourself. But when you act on what you know you risk making a fool out of yourself, which is humiliating as well as hurtful to others. Now, being hurt or offended or humiliated doesn’t really do anything. There are no consequences to that, other than you feel it. But feelings are true too; when I am sad that is real. Noone else is affected by it, unless they have compassion, but the sadness is my own.

It is probably a harsh thing to say, but hypocrites very often get offended by the truth.
You inflict negativity on others by what you say, when you lie. Personally I think that is bad karma. It’s a lot like rumors: no one will challenge you to your face or give you a chance to explain yourself. Only time does that for you.  All the whispers are behind your back. You are left with no means of clearing your own name. You are certain to be the last person to know. And after a while you realize there is no point in even attempting to do so. People don’t want the truth. All anyone wants is the chance to add more fuel to the fires of gossip. After all: it’s gossip! You can add and subtract just about anything you want, because it’s gossip and we don’t really expect the rumour-monger to be held accountable. There really isn’t anything good to say about gossip, other than it has a blissful tendency to backfire.
 People who lie, twist life so that it looks tasty to the lazy, brilliant to the ignorant, and powerful to the weak. But lies only strengthen our defects. It doesn’t teach anything, help anything, fix anything or cure anything. Nor do they develop one's character, one's mind, one's heart or one's soul. It only creates confusion.

Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.

The Generous Gift of a Glass of Milk that Ended up Paying for Medical Care -Truth!

This story has been circulating on social medias for quite some time now. Still beautiful. It should tell us that there is no reason to hold back kindness untill you think you can offer real help; preferably big time!  As is often the case, someone has fictionalized the details of this story and gotten some of it wrong, but it is essentially a true event.

A real example of the story as it has been circulated: One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, "How much do I owe you?" "You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness." He said..... "Then I thank you from my heart." As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit. Year's later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly ! was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to room. Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case. After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words..... "Paid in full with one glass of milk" Signed Dr. Howard Kelly. Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, God, that Your love has spread abroad through human hearts and hands."

The Truth:   Dr. Howard Kelly was a distinguished physician who, in 1895, founded the Johns Hopkins Division of Gynecologic Oncology at Johns Hopkins University.  According to Dr. Kelly's biographer, Audrey Davis, the doctor was on a walking trip through Northern Pennsylvania one spring day when he stopped by a farm house for a drink of water.  A little girl answered his knock at the door and instead of water, brought him a glass of fresh milk.  He visited with her briefly, then went his way.   Sometime after that, the little girl came to him as a patient and needed surgery.  After the surgery, the bill was brought to her room and on it were the words, "Paid in full with one glass of milk." www.Truthorfiction.com  thanks Andrew Harrison, the Processing Archivist and Fine Arts Coordinator for the Johns Hopkins Medical Institutions, for help with this story.  Posted 7/6/07 http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/o/oneglassofmilk.htm#.Uys0bvl5NLA

bygones and new beginnings

A couple of days ago someone posted this on his site:

“After 3 agonising years im finally goin to be reunited with my youngest boy after the ex came to her senses. Hes 7 now and im kinda scared but excited beyond belief. I guess after being abused by her husband for so long im not so bad afterall. Im really starting to think karma is a vengeful bitch that likes me for sum reason”.

I couldn’t let that be left undisputed. I really enjoy this guy’s being, mostly because there is something honest and logical in his predictable, yet utter, delightful madness. The kind you only find in creative men not afraid to display emotions, or speak of strong tangible impacts made on them… as long as what they say got a serious overdose of testosterone. I love that. I also see through it, when it’s not sincere.

I never comment on his postings. I think I would stand out in his crowd of 2224 friends, being too quirky, proper and reflected (or not impulsive enough, if you prefere) and different. But I sent a message saying:

“I have to say that at the end of the day, you may have a lot to say about the previous women in your life (well, they will always be in your life, though, because they mothered your children) you chose women who gave you very beautiful offspring”.

And the reply was short, yet told of a degree of appreciation to my opinion said in too many Words.

“Thank you ... wat a nice thing to say”

I decided quite some time ago not to hold grudges, life is too short for me to focus on petty things like that. I try to remember the whys and hows and the becauses. Sometimes you need to be mature enough to settle the score by expressing your willingness to declare matters for bygones be bygones. That’s it and that’s that.

You think it was a nice thing to say? Maybe, I meant it anyhow. The thing is: when everything is said and done, and you decide the last verbal lash has been thrown; every child deserves to know that at some point he/she was wanted, and that in the future there will be love and support, no matter what.

There isn’t much I appreciate more than when partners who split up eventually come to the point when they put dissensions aside and focus on making life easier on their children. I see kids who are torn every day, and it really isn’t pleasant. It is actually very hard.

I’m not only nice, you see. I also believe in spending time together with children, to talk polite when argue… especially when emotions rumble (and that really ticks most people off) and to ignore the flaws of others (I got too many myself to bother knowing them all).

An artist in Norway, Ole Paus, put it like this: “I am so brimful of errors that it's a shame. The Lord will have plenty more on his scribbling pad by the time I pass on. But he is probably more generous than his reputation suggests."

I think a lot of us should be grateful for that. More of us should probably pursue that kind of generosity. We would make life so much easier on ourselves and those we keep in our circle.

 

neat-handed Knowledge

The greatness of the world we live in sometimes strikes me as incredibly amazing. The other day, as I was teaching about myths, I started to think about how God created the world: “God created the world in 6 Days and on the 7th Day he rested. On the first day God created the Sun in order to give light and warmth to the Earth. On the second, third, fourth and fifth day he created the universe. On the sixth day, He created man and the entire creation was completed”.

There is something mind-blowing about the Bible, when they more than 3000 years ago knew we have an atmosphere… just saying. Regardless of personal belief, I think that what was written down such a long time ago has something “new” about it. The ten commandments are so up to date, It is strange they were not a result of a meta study, to find out through surveys and research what to do to keep peace among people and in inter-human relationships.

Just like… The Bible is the only religious guideline to how to lead a good life which illustrates the importance, and consequences, of communication, or lack thereof. I use that story in class, not to preach or anything, but as an example to how good communication makes people able to cooperate and understand each other, and what happens if we don’t. And those guys back then, who wrote the story, had an understanding of that we most often tend to forget.

Anyway… old knowledge is only old because people knew it a long time ago. It is still valid, so it should be considered forever currant knowledge.

That being said: I have this bad habit of thinking about things which are too big for me to fathom. I like to twist and turn questions around and make up my mind on issues I know has already been answered, but which I can find proof of in old sources. The older the better. It is kind of satisfying to “proof-read” and think it through from different angles and see if it is really so.

Ok, a bit of deep thinking here tonight, I am under the influence of a book I am reading by Martin Buber. I find one “goldmine” after another of good things for me to think about. Many of them I forget about, even though I know them to be truths from way back, and it is good to be reminded:

“Every person born into the world represents something new, something that never existed before, something original and unique....If there had been someone like her in the world, there would have been no need for her to be born." --Martin Buber as quoted in Narrative Means for Sober Ends, by Jon Diamond, p.78”

Martin Buber

Pretty neat, huh?

having a woman advocate of feminism, as a teacher

Part of the curriculum in Norwegian is to learn about communication.

We use our language in many ways and for different purposes, one of the lessons I talk about is the power of language.

Power of language includes:

Ø  To talk on a level the listener/reader has problems understanding

Ø  Deliberate use of foreign words

Ø  Long and complicated sentences

Ø  technical language when the listener/reader doesn’t understand/has learned it

Ø  threats

Ø  arrogance

Ø  irony

Ø  harassment

Ø  ignore the listener

Ø  body language

Ø  address or attack weak points of the listener/reader

As a whole: make the listener/reader as insecure as possible.

It should be obvious that this really isn’t a kind thing to inflict on another person, but teenagers have their jargon, and more and more often I hear them talk eachother "down", and I know they are thinking they are friendly, when what they really do is to degrade each other.

One of the tasks I use to illustrate the power of language is to make them write a list on synonyms for boy/man and girl/woman.

They are to add all the words they use in everyday speech and words they know from media and literature.

I feel very uncomfortable every time I give this exercise to my students, but I do it anyway, because they learn A LOT from it.

Without exception, they write a lot more words for girl/woman, than they do for boy/man. Boy/man has about equally amount of positive and negative words. The negative words refer to sexual preferences.

Girl/woman is an even sadder matter. There are many more words on the lists; only a few of them are positive. The negative words have, to a large extent, sexual character, and not in a good way.

They try to argue that they don’t mean it degrading, but when we talk about it, they admit they understand what they say, they know the words they use are really suppressive and that words have a meaning they usually understand the extent of.

I just curl up inside in shame after class, when I see the students bring their lists with them for recess. They read it, discuss it and compare. The hall becomes a cacophony of profanity and rudeness.

The good thing about this exercise is I notice there is a change of tone in the classroom afterwards. They think more before they talk to each other and choose better words. We get less swearing too, at least in the classroom.

How they express themselves after school hours I have no hand over, but communication works a lot better at school. Not only in my lessons, but our department as a whole.

So, while the other teachers grin with a smug sneer and shake their heads, I just feel like crumble up, or wish for a big hole to open up underneath me.

BUT, as a teacher I have done worse. I have talked to classes about what socks to wear in safety shoes (you would never believe the stench synthetic socks create) and personal hygiene. Now that is “fun” in a classroom full of teenage boys. Especially when they comment upon what I have said in class, to other teachers.

I comfort myself thinking at least we have cleaner student now, both language and bodies, than most other departments of building- and constructionwork.

I guess that is the drawback of having a woman advocate of feminism, (who wears black leather jacket, jeans and high heels at work) teaching them.

At peace with people and places

When travelling all sorts of strange things happen. I am on holidays in Turkey, and suddenly I stood face to face with a man I once  knew as a boy. He was 18-19 at the time, a year older than myself. He had a car and could charme a bird off it`s twig. I didn`t really know him all that well, but he hovered in the background of the "crew" I desperately tried to keep up with.

He came over and said hi in the restaurant, here at the hotel, and I just stood there totally caught off guard. My mind went blank and I just couldn`t think of a single intelligent thing to say. Not even hi. Those I used to call my friends back then never say hi, or even recognize my presense when I see them (long story), but here he was: a polite, handsome man with no other agenda than to recognize his memory of me and being nice.

It took me a day to collect my thoughts and feelings, which meeting him caused. Some times you need to come to terms with old determinations of leaving your past behind and start anew. To let people in for who they are today rather than who they used to be. He was never anything but funny and carefree and kind, and I found the best way to  go about it was to stand up and be honest with him... so at dinner I approached him and we had a nice talk.

I told him the truth: It was not my intention to make him feel I didn`t recall him, I was caught off guard since noone from back then ever do say hello. He was equally honest and told me he had been quite... hurt, but when I put it like that he understood, he knew what I was talking about since he often had the same experience with people he used to believe were friends. We ended up being quite friendly, and had a sincere conversation.

When it was time to go he paused for a while, looked me in the eyes and told me he thought it was a brave move to be so frank with him. It made him think that my past was a blessing for him.

Meeting him, was probably more like ships passing in the night. We will never be friends, but my mantra of forgiving, but not to forget, can be a blessing for others as well as it is for me. I am lucky to be at peace with my past, my present and, I believe, my future. Both when it comes to the people in them and how things are.

I was reading an article about social services, and in one of the readers` comments to the article a woman wrote that if you get reported to the children social services as a payback revenge for a break up, a fight, a thing a "hater" would do to you... what makes people end up in such situations? What kind of life, actions or abusive language make people end up like that? It isn`t good for either party to know you have unpredictable enemies who have it in them to do harm to you or those you love... and if you think about it, I am sure noone would want to be a someone who does that.

Forgive. It gives you resources to lead a good life, and courage to go better places. But you don`t have to forget. To remember, both the good and the bad, makes you the better person. At peace with people and places.

sticks and stones may break my bones, (but words can never hurt me... or, can they?)

Every morning I try to find time to scan through today’s morning paper. It makes me feel updated, to know what agenda the fourth estate set for the day.

Headlines, ingress and pictures give me a guideline to what will be the talk of the day.

For some time now, when I read the news, I have found myself not really paying attention to the news as such; I pay more attention to the language used.

I first noticed that more and more often the headlines are misleading… in the sense they are boosted to catch your eye, rather than tell what the story is actually about. Then I started picking up on the choice of words different journalists tend to prefer.

The thing about trifle details which are part of everyday doings, and that you see, read or hear on a regular basis and never pay any attention to, is that once you DO notice them; they overshadow the general main impression or experience.

Like… the ticking of an alarm clock. You don’t hear it, not really, as it steadily goes tic-tac while waiting for the right time to wake you up. But then, one night, you lay in bed trying to fall asleep, and there it is: “tic-tac-tic…” and your entire you gets so absorbed with the sound it makes you alert and all hope of getting some sleep is lost.

There is a good chance I am more than just a little weirde; but that resembles my attitude and relation to words.

I pay attention to words, I believe that words have the power to catalyze action. I think you can say just about anything, preventing you choose your words right. Even the worst insult can be presented so eloquently it is hard to be offended.

Subconsciously I think we all, to some degree, pick up on these nuances and react to the impact of the words we are exposed to. How you speak or write makes a difference.

When we were presented to news before, we used to discuss issues regarding the event or situation in question. Now we more and more often discuss not the event or situation itself, but social issues the journalist chose to indicate.

If the article add the phrase “ of foreign descent”, we are instantly led astray to not concern ourselves with what happened… we tend to be preoccupied with all the foreigners who have come to our country causing nothing but trouble: Regardless of why, who or how. We generalize and pull them all down.

Instead of mending our society by focusing and trying to fix what is wrong with the system, we are lured into brand marking people; blaming what is wrong on everyone else. It makes us say out loud that our society would be so much better if only we stuck to our own kind, even though we don’t actually think so.

It is sad we are not updated on news without language misguidance, which distracts us.

Maybe this is why we tend to engage less in our local community: we have learned there is such a thing as us and them: Children’s sports teams lack coaches. The Salvation Army lacks volunteers. The Red Cross miss volunteers…. The list is close to endless. Instead of getting involved, spending time healing what is wrong, but by doing that expose ourselves and perhaps prove ourselves vulnerable: we focus more and more on our own comfort, and feel smug about ourselves because, after all, WE are decent people. And while we do so, we criticize what a bad coach our daughter has to deal with, we don’t even think about what an effort he/she makes for our precious offspring.

Very seldom do we give thanks. Hardly ever do we care to tell what is right or well. We adopt the lingo from the medias where we hardly hear, see or read anything good (and if we do, it usually involves an infant or an animal… the two groups still pardoned from our negativity).

Far too often the weak, and yet exposed, groups of people in society are even further degraded… or we enhance the prejudices they already suffer from.

I am old enough to remember when a fight was won when the opponent lay on the ground. Today I have this feeling a fight is about getting your opponent to the ground so you can really hit and kick him properly. Words can do that as well.

I believe we all really want to understand, and we wish things were different… and to the better. To do that, we need to know the full story. We need to be allowed to make up our minds on issues, not on people or groups of people. We can’t make it a matter about whether we like or dislike individuals

We often experience the fourth estate, undeliberately, take side, choosing to tell the part of the story which serves their agenda or cause the best: making money by creating malcontent feelings. (Yes, being negative is a very strong drive in most of us. In example: negativity is such a strong emotion it takes 100 compliments to make up for 1 critisism.) When others are as bad as can be, we, the rest, are great! Sadly, that only inspires aggression and a dividing of people: us and them.

Looking at history that was never a good strategy to keep a society sound and healthy.

When facts are partially fiction, in the media

The thing about trifle details which is part of our everyday doings, and that you see, read or hear on a regular basis (and never really pay attention to); is that once you notice them they overshadow the general main impression, experience or impact it has on you.

Like… the ticking of an alarm clock. You don’t hear it, until one night you just can’t sleep and there it is: tic-tac-tic-tac and your entire you gets so absorbed with the sound it really gets on your nerves. You are on the alert and it is impossible to get any sleep at all. You shut out everything except the suddenly really loud sound.

Every morning I try to find time to scan through today’s newspaper. It makes me feel updated on what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day. Headlines, ingress and pictures give me a guideline to what will be the talk of the day.

Or so it used to be.

There is a good chance I am a bit weird (actually I know I in many ways am); I pay attention to words. I believe that words have the power to catalyze action. I believe you can express just about any opinion prevented you choose your words right. Even an insult can be presented so eloquently it is hard to be offended.

Subconsciously I think we all, to some degree, pick up on these nuances and react to the impact the words we are exposed to have.

It goes both ways; how you speak or write affects people… and we all know that what we hear or read makes an impact on our way of thinking.

There has, for as long as I can remember, been an ongoing discussion about the importance of the press being objective. Lately, when I read the news in the morning, I find myself not really paying attention to the news itself. Like the ticking of the alarm-clock; I pay more attention to the language used.

I don’t know if it is a conscious choice, or if journalists of today are taught this is an acceptable angle to a story, but a LOT of what I read in the newspapers (in paper, and even more on online editions), and what I hear on the radio or watch/hear on TV, is not factual information: we get the journalist’s own opinion on a story, case or occurrence.

I started picking up on the choice of words different journalists tend to prefer.

Far too often the weak, and yet exposed, groups of people in society are even further degraded… or we enhance the prejudices they already suffer from, by how we express ourselves.

An example I see a lot is: the suspect is a young man of foreign descent. So; we don’t talk about the crime committed, we talk about all the foreigners who have come to our country causing nothing but trouble. Making it a disadvantage he is even young, and a man…!

The young man may very well have been born and raised here, his grandparents being the ones to immigrate, but that is not of interest: we just generalize and call them all foreigners, regardless of background or situation.

It is a problem how facts are selected, picked and chosen, deliberately leaving important arguments or facts out.

I am old enough to remember when a fight was won when the opponent lay on the ground. Today a fight is about getting your opponent to the ground so you can hit and kick him properly. Words can do that as well.

When we were presented to news before, we used to discuss issues regarding the event or situation in question.

Now I notice we more and more often discuss not the event or situation itself, but social issues the journalist chose to indicate.

We call media, the press, the fourth estate. They set the agenda by what they present to the masses.

Instead of mending our society by addressing what is wrong with our system, we are lured into brand-marking people. Blaming what is wrong on everybody else. Making us believe our community would be so much better if only we stuck to our own kind. Our people (and I think this goes for everyone, regardless of age, colour, religion and/or political stand.

It is a shame we can’t be updated on news without linguistic misguidance, which distracts us.

I can’t help but thinking this is why we tend to engage less in our local community.

Children’s sports lack trainers and coaches.

The Salvation Army is in great need of more/new volunteers as the older generation must step down.

The list is close to endless.

Instead of spending time healing what is wrong, we focus more and more on our own comfort and feel smug about ourselves because we, at least, are decent people.

And while we do so, we criticize what a bad coach our daughter has to deal with, we don’t even think about what an effort he/she does for our daughter; doing the best he/she can with hardly any help from the other parents.

Very seldom we give thanks or show appreciation. Hardly ever do we care to tell what is right or well.

We adopt the lingo from the medias where we hardly hear anything good. (And if we do it usually involves an infant or an animal.) Small children and animals are still pardoned from our negativity.

I know my postings on here are really nothing much to brag about when it comes to credibility. To be honest I don’t really spend much time on thinking them through… but then again: I never set out to be objective or informative. I just ramble on about what’s on my mind, and it is very subjective.

In many ways news is presented the same way: The press often takes side, choose to tell the part of the story which serves their agenda or cause the best way.

If we want to understand, if we want to change what is wrong about our system we need to know the full story. We can’t make it a matter about whether we like or dislike individuals. It isn’t ok to base factual info on a journalist’s personal view.

I highly appreciate learning what other people think about different things. That is how we evolve as reflective human beings. But what I would like to see is a stronger marking of what is a fact and what is an opinion, especially in the news

(Schoolbooks suffer from the same problem, as they more and more often are designed to be sellable, but that is a different matter.)

Inaccurate language and facts only inspires aggression and makes it approved of, among the masses, to talk about "us" and "them". Looking at history, that was never a good strategy.