A friend indeed (#reverb10 Day 16)

December 16 – Friendship 
How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst? (Author: Martha Mihalick)


Earlier this year, I got dishwasher powder in my eyes. I had just turned the lid on the powder compartment a bit too fast, and it was a bit too full - poof! A puff of powder blew up toward my face and, like they were magnets, coated my eyes. It may not sound like a big deal - I didn't take it seriously at first, either. But when 20 minutes of clearing with water found them still burning, a call to poison control confirmed that I would need to go to emergency. Did you know that dishwasher powder is basically sand and acid? Me either! 


We have two small children, and I clearly couldn't drive myself. We have no family in town. Right away, I knew the only person I was comfortable calling. My 3-doors-down neighbour, a woman I would be lucky to call a friend. 


Many times, she has reached out to me, and shyly, I've fumbled forward to accept her invitations, have meaningful conversations. But I rarely see her, and far less since my daughter was born. With work, kids, household, physical fitness and writing, I don't seem to find the time to invest in friendships. 


But this woman, my neighbour, she gives friendship for free. She doesn't wonder why I don't come more often, or take offense that I say I'd love to get together and then a month goes by. She is always happy to see me, always compassionate about my trials. She shares her own, openly. She takes joy in helping other people. She is someone who comes through, is there for you. For me. She has many reasons to be angry with the world, and she picks love anyway.


Twice now, I've been seriously hurt and needed to go to emergency. Twice it was her that I called. And she didn't blink.


My own family, they blink. It's not that they're not there for me, it's that they feel the imposition and I feel them feel it and that is intolerable to me. Even my very close friend, blinks. I know I often blink too. 


I will always come through for people in my life, but whether I feel it as "I must be there for this person because they need me" or "I am so glad that I can be here for this person" makes a big difference. I can choose. 


I have a lot of trouble asking for help, and any whiff of "must" on the part of the other person will cause me to back off the ask so fast that they couldn't help me if they wanted to. I abhor obligation. My neighbour is one of very few people in the world that I believe to be genuine in her happiness to help me when I need it, and her complete lack of associated expectations. She just expects me to graciously accept her help, and it's the least I can do.


She taught me that she exists, which is important for my hope. She taught me to graciously accept help graciously offered. She reminded me that I could try harder to be a friend, to be the kind of person that you don't mind asking for help because you know, just know, that I love to do it for you. That I am grateful for the chance to help.


She probably has no idea of her impact. I could tell her. I hope I do it soon.

Wonder is also this (#reverb10 Day 4)

#Reverb10 Prompt for December 4: Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)

Wonder sounds like a good thing. Wonderful, right? A child's wonder at the world. The idea carries a certain innocence, implies lightness like bubbles of curious colour. Awe, joy, a fundamental opening response.


And certainly, wonder is often like that. 


Wonder is also this: a gnawing, incessant desire to UNDERSTAND, the very act a leap from that desire to...well, nothing that I can see from here. Is this a wonder to cultivate? It unseats my security, turns my world to chaos, demands that I accept the state of wonder as is, no expectations, no attachments, never a resolution. Wonder, my constant companion, allowing me to accept nothing I see, nothing I hear, at the level on which I receive it. Wonder, forcing me to hold multitudes of data points in constant, swirling company, seeking unexpected patterns. 


Wonder is also this: a demanding child, pushing for attention when I'm tired, tired, tired, saying - "look! A balloon! It's red! And I say, "yes, it's red." and she knows I'm not listening so she says it again, "but mommy, it's red!" and I don't even look at the balloon or her as I repeat it, "yes, honey, it's red" and then I happen to look down, and her blue eyes are right on me and beside her, the balloon is red. Bright, beautiful red, like her lips, like her cheeks, and I am in awe that this child is here, with me, and cares to share this experience of red with someone so distracted and jaded.

"It's so beautiful. Thank you for showing me."  



(I've pretty much given up editing if I'm going to actually blog every day. If you followed me before you'll know I usually blog a few times a MONTH. But so far, so good... #reverb10)

What leads up to a moment (or Choice) (#reverb10 Day 3)

Today's #reverb10 prompt: Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors)

Going hard on the eliptical trainer, in synch with the music, eyes closed. Heart racing, breathing heavy, my mind zones into the waves and flow of sound. As I let myself move more into universal space, I notice that my body operates flawlessly without explicit commands. 

I feel, in this moment, that I could leave my body behind, move more deeply into the flow, just abandon this ship and get lost in the universal and it would be joy, joy, joy. I sense an offering of choice and know that in this moment, my heart could stop beating and I would be free...but my mind grasps for something. 

Something missing. 

(still my legs pump beneath me, still my body moves and breathes. still the music drives me onward)

Ah, let go the game, my dear. 

But there is something...my being here matters. My Me-ness needs matter to matter. This impossible unknown that I am experiencing every moment matters. I am somehow sworn on my righteous, if undefined, path. 

And I want to see how things turn out, for as long as I can. I want to affect how things turn out.

So again, today, I choose to exist here, now. 

I slowly disengage from the universal and re-take control of my body. My pace perfection falters a little but I compensate, and engage my muscles for a different stance. It feels good to stretch and challenge myself. I open my eyes and look around at the warm, safe room full of evidence that happy children play here. I reach for my water bottle, and as that cool lifeforce enters my mouth I almost gasp for joy. 

I feel alive. 

What doesn't contribute? (Day 2 #reverb10)

Prompt: What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?

What doesn't contribute?

Well, I wasn't very inspired (no offense to the prompter). But really, my writing comes from who I am and who I am comes from how I experience life, so really, my experience of everything I do must contribute to my writing, even if it's difficult to draw the direct cause-and-effect. I could say, not being independently wealthy, that all the things I do to earn money and basic maintenance for my lifestyle don't contribute to my writing, since they take up my time, but the possibility for elimination seems highly limited. Okay, I'm done thinking about it.

But it bugged me. There must be a way for me to get somewhere out of this line of thought, since I'm here. My dead-ends could be some kind of defense against something deeper.

I suppose maybe one thing I do is wish things were different. Like, I wish I had more time, especially consecutive time, so I put off writing hard scenes and big research bits.

I wish I had more money, less stress, an easier time with the kids, a fitter body, etc. and that wishing, while it may contribute to my writing (and, in fact, does) doesn't contribute much to my state-of-mind. Wish can be motivating, and wish can rob me of presence when it becomes disappointment that what is real, now, is not what I wish for "when my life is better."

Because I know, more and more and more, just how incredible my life is, even in this moment when my adrenaline is high and my patience is incredibly thin at the end of a long day where not enough got done and my kids are pushing it. Who am I to feel anything but lucky, no matter what the travails of my day? Only a fool.

Alright, that's about the best I'm going to do with this prompt. Now, to tend to the grouchy children who should be sleeping.

(ps. I borrowed the image above - it's not me, nor my photo. if you own it and would like credit, please say so!)

post-script to Day 1 of #reverb10

Earlier I answered the first part of the prompt, which was hard enough (here is the post) but this prompt, day 1, had two hard questions. One word for 2010, okay. But one word for 2011...I've thought all day.

I'd like to say, success! or hope, or happiness. But I think, in the end, it's TOGETHER.

In 2011, I hope to...

make significant strides towards attacking poverty at its root causes, together with people in my community

grow and seek out new experiences together with my husband

become more and more ourselves, together with my children

explore what it means to be human, together with my twitter and other online neighbours

feel more practiced, competent and...well...TOGETHER, overall and just generally.

Ah, friends, I'm tired. And there's more to come tomorrow...

Refactoring - a #Reverb10 reflection

#reverb10 December 1 One Word.

Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

(Author: Gwen Bell)

Refactoring

Years ago, interested in my then-boyfriend's work, I read a book from his shelf called "Extreme Programming." This is a book about software development for software developers, but it is more than that - it is a philosophical treatise. I was struck, at the time, that despite technical language and limited scope, the approaches described held significant application to human systems, change management, and personal development. One key concept is "refactoring."


Here's the Wikipedia definition:

Code refactoring is the process of changing a computer program's source code without modifying its external functional behavior, in order to improve some of the nonfunctional attributes of the software.

In general, functional attributes define what a system is supposed to do, whereas non-functional attributes define how a system is supposed to be. Behaviours and Values. 


Software is very human in some respects. There is no bug-free software. Period. It's full of old processes and dead ends that used to try to do something, errors in logic, outdated functions, cobbled together ideas from many people of varying competence and vision, and other weirdnesses. The result is instances of spinning wheels, confusion, and sometimes, total and complete shutdown - but only under certain circumstances and demands.  Software isn't complicated - it's complex. Like life. Like us.


And, software is in use - it's not optimal to take it off line (any more than I can go hide out in a monastery for a year). It's not practical to start over. Instead, Extreme suggests refactoring the system - an ongoing, disciplined approach that identifies particular areas of concern, and allocates time to systematically analyze and understand just what the implications might be for changing or removing something that seems problematic (as well as how to do it). There are always side effects. 


Essentially, refactoring involves reflection, understanding, and trial-and-error tinkering with a system within safe spaces and times, in ways that are invisible to the external world. When it's important to take specific areas temporarily off-line, it's done in a planned way that provides detours (preferably invisible) for external needs. The rest of the system continues to function.


Complex systems will always be flawed, just like grass will always grow back when you mow it. I will always be flawed, and I am always growing. I am as complex a system as they come. When I look back over 2010, I realize that I am becoming more skilled at refactoring myself. I create spaces when I need to go offline. I don't try to tackle the whole system at once - I prioritize, and take the time to really understand. All my processes are inextricably linked and hopelessly tangled, and I am untangling the worst ones, often freeing whole sections by undoing a single knot. I am tinkering daily.


How?  Exercise. Music. Yoga. WRITING. Present play with my kids. Intimacy with my husband (this doesn't just mean sex). Connecting on Twitter. Reading outside my zone. Conversing with my universal, sometimes out loud. Laughing. Appreciating. Contemplating the abundance I have in my life, and my outrageous good luck before I go to sleep. 


How? Crying. Freaking out. Facing my own dark pockets where hatred might find a cool place to grow. Feeling despair. Feeling afraid. Feeling futility. Letting my universal be sad with me and comfort me. 


How?  Making a little time and space every day, sometimes throughout the day, to feel deeply and think about what I'm feeling. Checking in with myself regularly. Creating reminders that help me to stop and remember who I am. Checking in with my touchstone people when I start to crumble. 


How? Giving myself permission to be just as I am, and encouraging myself to specific, achievable improvements. Failing, and trying anyway.


How? Practicing presence. Practice.


I'm reprogramming myself, slowly, often painfully, to keep my mind more open, my heart more open, my skin thicker and my core clear and centred enough to withstand the assaults of unskilled "users." These are just a few of the "non-functional attributes" that I want to embody in my system architecture. I'm finding my dead-end paths and disruptive processes, and slowly picking away at removing them safely.


Refactoring tries to make the system more resilient and extensible, easier to read, and more clear about its individual decision points and functions, without impacting functionality. It's a bonus if refactoring improves functionality. 


I always did want to go for the bonus marks.


(the word for 2011? Still thinking...)