Human Flight


 When my son was 16 a "trivial" conversation inspired this piece.



Fly? Me Too

We were driving home from a short errand when out of the blue my teenage son asked, "Mom, would you rather have a million dollars or be able to fly?"
 "Fly. " I answered without hesitation.
  And he right after, "Me too."
I love it when my children ask questions like this –wildly hypothetical, seemingly pointless but significant in their own way.  I feel like a good mom when these little flights of imagination and wondering about what is valuable come out of my son's mouth. Seeing this cool teenager be so free to ponder such questions as he figures out what in life is important makes me proud.
He continued,  "What about 10 million?  What about 100 million?
To each I answered, "Fly".
And to each he responded, "Me too".
I was pleased that we had progressed passed the "would you rather eat a worm or a grasshopper" stage of 10 years earlier.  I was more pleased that he could imagine such things and could put money in its place.  I had a good friend once who said, " Money gives you the freedom to pursue loftier things than money." Flying? There's a lofty pursuit.
When I was little we lived on the side of a hill.  I could roam by myself to the top.  There with my Border Collie, Upndown, by my side I would soar.  Unfettered by the laws of physics or the limits of reality I would swoop and glide over the town.
When our neighborhood group of kids wasn't digging swimming pools or putting on circuses with our pets, we were running down that hill with all kinds of contraptions trying to lift off the ground.  I wished that I might grow up someday to see a graceful flying system for humans.
"If you could fly how do you think you would do it?" I asked.
" I'm not sure, maybe sort of like swimming in the air." He answered.
" In my dreams, my flying is more like swooping and diving." I said.  "And even in my dreams I am a little careful about power lines."    
Then we visited more about various "what ifs".  I asked, "So, what if you could spend the money to do something important to help other people?    Maybe build a bunch of schools in third world countries."
He thought for a minute, "That would make it harder, especially if it were the 100 million where you could really do a lot."
And then I simplified this big decision,  "But what if you had to spend it all on yourself?
 "Fly", he said.
 "Me too", I added.
I haven’t lived to see humans soar gracefully through the air, but I am happy to have seen the soaring imagination of this one person.

The Best Time of Your Life -- Not


The Best Time of Your Life – Not

Most of my readers know that, in addition to being a writer, I am a psychologist. One aspect of my work is conducting presentations for teachers and parents. Lately the theme of bullying is a common concern in the workshops and the media. I won’t attempt to present the whole workshop here, but there is one related point that resonates with workshop participants and is worth sharing. 

 People working with young people often look at their enriched lives and their relative lack of troubles and say, “This is the best time of your life.” To a miserable adolescent this is not good news!

 Sometimes our efforts to help kids see the good in their current situation can backfire. Instead they need to understand that it will get better. I also do workshops for adolescents on adolescent psychology. It seems to be comforting to them to know that this period has a purpose, is temporary and that things will get easier. In our eyes their troubles may be smaller, but so are their coping skills.

 Years ago I was working with a mother who was very stressed and very upset with her child. The family was dealing with many challenges. In an effort to help the mother understand the child I said, ”Right now her plate is full.” The mother replied in frustration, “So is mine!” I knew the mother well enough to respond, “Yes, but her plate is smaller.” The mother laughed out loud and that image helped her see her daughter’s point of view. Young people may have fewer challenges to deal with, but they also have fewer skills to deal with these challenges.

 We cannot and should not make their lives free of difficulty, but we can help them develop the coping strategies to deal with these difficulties. One of these strategies is remembering that, “This is not the best time of your life. Things will get better!"

Blog Audience

One of the most interesting things about doing a blog is the "stats" a writer can keep track of regarding what system readers used to find the blog and most fascinating, what country they are from. I would love to know why I have such a readership in Malaysia and the Netherlands. I know where my Guatemalan  readers are from and the Canadian ones and the ones from the UK, but why Malaysia, Sweden, Russia and the Netherlands. I may never know, but I greet you all and am happy that you have found this blog .  I hope you find something worth returning for. Cheers, S.

Confused Garden

As the picture at the right and the one at the bottom of the page indicate, the garden this year is a little confused. Our Granny Smith often gives us nice apples for Christmas, but this year it has hit a record for late production. And the squirrels have not been as greedy as usual. The deciduous azalea is equally confused, having bloomed twice already. Afraid there will be nothing left for its May blossoming. So I'll enjoy its puny little effort now.

Zen of Housekeeping


When small jobs spiral out of control, completion may be a solitary joy

Susan DeMersseman, Special to The Chronicle
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There are people who can straighten up an entire house in one hour, but that's usually if it's not their own house.
Many of us, on the other hand, start out with great intentions, but get sidetracked into elaborate cleaning expeditions. Our goal of a quick surface job evolves into a deep cleaning project. We have to be careful what we start because it can easily turn into something that borders on remodeling -- but barely shows.
My friend Marti describes this invisible cleaning tendency as a version of the children's book "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie," where one thing inevitably leads to another. In her case, she started with simply rinsing out the toothbrush holder, but before she knew it she'd gotten out the Soft Scrub and an old toothbrush and was cleaning the grunge out from under the faucet handles, from behind the sink and every other place she could think of.
One of my invisible cleaning projects started when I noticed that the cleaning cloths made from old towels and gym socks were outgrowing their small basket by the laundry room sink.
I realized that I needed to store some in the cabinet under the sink. By the time I finished several hours later, I had emptied the entire cabinet, thrown out old bottles and cleanser cans, and found soapy residue in the bottom of the cupboard.
I decided that the bottom surface really needed a better sealer. I cleaned the bottom, dried it with my hair dryer, sanded it and gave it two coats of varnish. I dried it again, put every thing back neatly and finally put away some of the cleaning cloths. That last task took about one minute.
It's a shame that when company comes over after such a project you can't bring them into the laundry room, open the cupboard and show off your work. And since the husband, kids and cat are all unimpressed by such an accomplishment, it is up to me to enjoy it by myself.
And I do. Several times in the next few days I opened the cupboard and admired the clean, orderly space.
Yes, I am too easily amused.
To see whether others shared this condition, I researched the books on cleaning in the local bookstore. I looked in the index section of many and found nothing on "avoiding distractions" or "maintaining focus."
I do appreciate the value of these in-depth projects, but there are times when I try to stay on task. My solution is to use a small kitchen timer. I set it for short time periods so that when it rings I am reminded that I had started out with a specific goal. I often surprise myself when the buzzer goes off and I'm on to the third level of sidetracking.
Sometimes I use the same strategy on myself that I tried on my children when they were little: "Just work for 100 seconds." It will often get me to take on a task I've been avoiding, and other times it reminds me to stay focused since I only have to work for such a limited time. Something as small as finding a mushy peach in the vegetable crisper can turn into the removal of all the refrigerator shelves and a thorough scrubbing of the inside and outside, using every tool from sponges to old toothbrushes to wooden skewers.
People with this tendency also experience times when they're more drawn to in-depth -- and invisible -- cleaning.
My friend Connie found herself completely engrossed in deep-cleaning projects last fall. Not surprisingly it was right after her daughter left for college for the first time. Her husband and son came home at the end of a day and the house looked the same to them, but she knew that underneath it was in perfect order.
She attributed this tendency to the need for a good distraction and the comfort that often comes from such accomplishments.
This deep-cleaning pattern can also be more seductive when there is something else we're putting off. I call it the "Zen of Procrastination."
I wrote about it years ago -- while putting off something else. The year as I wrote my doctoral dissertation I pruned every bush in my yard and in the yards of several neighbors.
When my 80-year-old neighbor saw me coming into the garden she would shout, "Look out, fuchsias, here she comes again!"
From listening to the stories of friends, it's clear that the inspiration pulling us into such projects comes from many sources. The need for a sense of control, the need for a distraction, some mild obsessive moment or just an appealing way to avoid another task. The value of these in-depth projects cannot be underestimated, even if their results are invisible -- to everyone but you.
E-mail Susan DeMersseman at home@sfchronicle.com.


Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2005/10/01/HOG11EVAJ41.DTL#ixzz1Cm0KTQb4