Angry Birds

Have you seen (or played) this latest super-addictive Facebook/iPhone game?  I'm not much of a gamer, but these little guys caught my attention the other day because I was mad about something or other and thought my facial expression probably looked a little bit like this:

I get angry kind of easily these days, because it's cold and miserable and kind of ugly around here.  But truthfully, I'm not good at expressing my anger.  I don't go around with a scowl on my face like this red-bird here and I always try to be pleasant and cheerful.  If I get really mad, I'll wait until I get home and throw something at the wall.

But then I go back to being nice.

I don't think that's the healthiest way to express anger.  But I was taught that anger was one of those "not nice" emotions...like jealousy and spitefulness.  If you were angry about something, you'd best just get out of sight until you got over it.  No foot stomping or screaming fits were tolerated.  And because I was an only child, constantly surrounded by adults, there was no other outlet for anger.  No younger sister to bully, no older brother to pummel with my little fists.  I learned to control this emotion at a very early age, to swallow those angry feelings like the bitter pill they were and pretend that everything was hunky dory.

Traditionally, women in general are not encouraged to have angry feelings.  Angry women are "shrews" or "witches" (or worse).  We're never taught to express anger correctly, because we're not even supposed to be angry in the first place.   But anger can be constructive if we know how to use it.  The Hawaiian goddess, Pele, is said to have become enraged when her boat became entangled in the roots of a hala tree.  She ripped the tree to shreds and threw the remnants across the island, where they sprouted and grew into strong, beautiful trees which the Hawaiian people have been enjoying ever since.

I can actually imagine myself doing that if I happened to be in Hawaii, and happened to get my boat entangled in the roots of some stupid tree.

If you get angry enough and you know how to channel that anger into something productive, then the repercussions can be positive and long lasting.

Case in point - the Egyptian people, who have taken their anger about years of repression, and turned it into a strong enough rebellion to affect major changes in their government.

On a smaller, and much more personal level, I've been angry about my job lately, an anger that I've been swallowing for a long time in keeping with the teaching of my youth.  Finally, after some long talks with a colleague, my angry feelings spurred me to think about ways to change things and to talk to my boss about starting the process of that change.

Sometimes it's alright to be an Angry Bird.

How about you?  Do you acknowledge and express your anger constructively?

Starting Places

We are all tied to one another - ourselves and those who came before us.  We were ourselves, but others too; our past written on us like lines drawn on a palimpset, or the artist's rough sketch beneath the surface of a painting."   from The Charming Quirks of Others, by Alexander McCall Smith.

I have always been fascinated by origins - how do we become the people we are?  Not just our hair color, or height, or ability to play an instrument.  But our character and personality.  What makes one person quiet and shy, and another boisterous and outgoing?  Why is one person prone to anger, born with the proverbial chip of their shoulder, and another calm and accepting of the world and its inhabitants?

"We are all tied to one another - ourselves and those that came before us."   The seeds  of who we are today begin growing in the past, generations of  personalities and genetics combining in each human being.

Think about people in your past and write about the ways they've influenced who you are today.  These people are your true Starting Places.

Red All Over

When I was a little girl, this old chestnut was one of my favorite riddles... "What's black and white and read all over?"

"A newspaper!"

That riddle is outdated in more than one way these days.  Newspapers are definitely not "read all over" like they were in the 1960's.

But that's food for another post.

Today, I'm talking about red literally, as in the color red.  In an effort to brighten the grey winter landscapr and lift my downtrodden spirits, I've proclaimed February my personal red month.  That's right. I'm wearing red everyday this month, even if it's only my red-banded wristwatch.

It  all started the other day, when I wore a red sweater in honor of  National Wear Red Day, an event sponsored by the American Heart Association to raise awareness about women's heart health.  Many of you probably know this statistic, but it bears repeating...more women die from heart disease than from any other disease, including breast cancer.  It also bears repeating that heart attacks don't present the same symptoms in women as they do in men and thus are often overlooked when women go in for treatment, even into the emergency room.  If you haven't educated yourself about heart disease in women, this is the month you can read about it all over...

My literal heart is just fine, but this winter my emotional heart has been hurting.  I been hit hard with SAD (seasonal affective disorder).  This is one of the coldest, grayest, snowiest winters I can remember, and it's been terribly emotionally draining.  Nothing makes me happy these days.  I feel bone tired, listless.  I have difficulty concentrating, and a persistent dull headache.

But the other day, wearing that red sweater, along with my red wristwatch and some red earrings, I felt my mood lift just a little.  After all, red is the color associated with energy and excitement.  In our culture, it bears connotations of love and desire.  For the Chinese, red symbolizes luck and is the color of celebration.  In chromotherapy (using color as a healing power), red was used to stimulate the body and mind and increase circulation.

I could use a nice big dose of all those things.

I even bought myself a cute red wool jacket, with a coordinating scarf and red fuzzy gloves.  (You would not believe the sale I found, either...)  Now I'm on the lookout for a red purse to complete the ensemble.

I'm talking red to the limit here, folks.

I really am RED all over.

How about you?  Is there a particular color that lifts your spirits and brightens your mood?

Is There a Football Game Today?

I'm being facetious, because I really don't care about football.   In fact, there's nothing in this world that I care less about than football.  At the risk of offending any of you, I think it's a barbaric sport that's stupid and dangerous.  The fact that football players receive totally obscene salaries to run around a field throwing a ball and knocking each other senseless, is, to me, an embarrassing absurdity of modern life. On top of that, they look hideous in those outfits.

Last night, the Musicians of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra performed in concert at a local church.  The orchestra members are still on strike, since all efforts to reach an equitable settlement have come to naught time and again.  There is a growing sense of desperation among music lovers here in Detroit, who turn out in huge numbers to hear these talented, world class musicians as they turn black and white notes on a page into music of truly heavenly caliber.

At the end of the last round of negotiations, we heard that the orchestra and management were approximately two million dollars apart in their offers, two million dollars away from saving not just this season or this symphony, but the future of the DSO for years to come.

Two million dollars.

You know where I'm going with this, I'm sure.  Two million dollars is a heck of a lot of money to me, and I suspect it is to you.

But it's less than the average annual salary for a member of the New York Giant's football team.

Less than the salary of one football player for one year.

At the beginning of this post, I said I could care less about football.  Even though I don't like it, and don't watch it, I know plenty of people  who do.  That's as it should be.  In America, we  should all have the right to enjoy the things we enjoy, and I defend those rights, even if don't quite comprehend the reasons for them.  I know many people don't appreciate music the way I do.  But I should hope they wouldn't deny me the opportunity to experience the music I love performed by people who are tops in their field.

But that's exactly what's going to happen unless we narrow the gap between our perception of greatness, and stop devaluing artistic endeavor.

Athletes and orchestra musicians are not all that different, you know.  Each one works for years and years to hone their skill, hours of repetitive drill and expensive study, endless grueling practices and rehearsals, traveling from place to place away from their families.  They must learn to work within the structure of the group, follow directions from their leader, and be at their individual best at all times.  At the end of it all, they put on their game day faces and strut onto their respective fields, eager to give the best performance of their lives.

Wouldn't it be nice if every member of the Detroit Lions (where the average annual salary is $1,683,397) would donate a couple of thousand dollars toward keeping the DSO on the stage?  Or if some of Detroit's other professional athletes would join in that initiative?  It's pocket change to them, but it could actually go a long way toward insuring the future of artistic excellence in Detroit city.

During tonight's football game, I will be playing my recordings of the DSO at top volume,  hoping against hope that those CD recordings won't be the only way I'm able to hear these wonderful musicians in the future.

And by the way, they look wonderful in concert attire.

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

...but if you try sometimes, you'll find you get what you need. Good philosophy from the Rolling Stones, proving once again that rock and roll is more than just noise and distraction.

When I was a little girl, I nearly always got what I wanted - at least in terms of things.  Because I was an only child (and an only grandchild), and because my parents were fairly well off  at least in terms of the working class neighborhood where we lived, my wishes were generally granted.  I had every Barbie doll made, with the latest outfits to go with.  I got a new bike every couple of years, the latest and greatest model (I had not one, not two, but three different Sting-Ray bikes with banana seats - a royal blue, a deep purple, and metallic lime green with sparkles.)

There was a brand new car sitting in the driveway with my name on it months before I had the license to drive it.

I know - it sounds like I was the proverbial spoiled little rich kid, doesn't it?

But I think I was kind and generous with my friends, and I hope I never shoved my good fortune in their faces.  Most of my friends came from large families, where money was, if not an issue, at least an object that had to be very carefully considered, and most of them had to work to get the kinds of gifts that were always freely given to me.

Parents are cautioned against giving their children everything they want in life, because then they aren't prepared for the realities of the cruel world where in fact, you can't -and don't and won't -  always get what you want.  Certainly in the course of my life over the past 50 years, there have been times when I didn't get what I wanted.  But I believe that most often, I got what I needed.

I needed to marry young, in order to establish myself in a life away from my parents who were generous but overprotective.  It was the only acceptable way I knew at that time to pry myself loose from a grasp that was loving but too tight.

I needed to have a child, to teach me that my wishes weren't the only ones that mattered, that when you're responsible for the life of another human being you have to sublimate your own desires a great deal of the time.

I needed that child to leave home when he was young, to remind me not to hang on too tight to the people you love, to encourage me to make a life of my own, perhaps for the first time.

I needed both of the "careers" that I've had, one to prove to me that I have talent and shouldn't be so afraid to use it, and to show me how wonderful it is to have friends, to have a real live social network that pulls you out of your introverted shell and pushes you into the world.  The other to show me how the "professional" world works and convince me I have the ability to operate within it.

At this moment, I stand at something of a crossroads.  I feel ready to move on in many areas of my life, yet circumstances seem to keep me rooted in one place.  In the past few years, there have been lots of things I wanted that I didn't get, probably more than at any other time in my life.  People died that I wanted to live, jobs didn't come through that I wanted to get, my family got scattered even farther away.  Sometimes I've felt as if I were walking through a wasteland filled with the remnants of broken dreams.

I'm not yet far enough away from all this to see if I find anything in the wreckage that resembles something I need.

But I'm trying to believe that there is.

After all, who am I to argue with the Rolling Stones?