Such a lot of stir about bi-partisanship. Apparently, the majority of us voted for it; but I'm not sure we all have the same thing in mind. Does bi-partisanship merely mean civility? Does it include participation in the political process? How about gaining the ground to negotiate for the minority agenda? It seems clear that the Republicans expect bi-partisanship to give them a bargaining position. Congressional Republicans are frustrated, disappointed, surprised, and angry that their positions weren't included in the stimulus bill.
Apparently, they assume that tax cuts are so wonderful that Democrats would have included them with or without concern for Republican sensibilities. So that seems to be problem number 1. Republicans can't believe President Obama would have voluntarily put something in the bill as a political gift to them; hence the tax cuts don't count toward bi-partisanship. I guess they needed to fight and negotiate and complain to the media to feel like they actually got something. I guess they haven't noticed that Democrats not only do not consider tax cuts to be a panacea, but are generally sick to death of anything faintly smelling of trickle down theory.
Is bi-partisanship being given the opportunity to make suggestions? And if one entertains suggestions, must implementation follow? Does one retain the freedom not to adopt a suggestion after listening? I don't think we have a meeting of the minds about whether bi-partisanship is civility and the willingness to listen with an open mind or whether it requires the sharing of power. Must Democrats give up the advantage of having won a majority to exemplify a true bi-partisan spirit? Surely not!
Bi-partisanship does not come with the right to negotiate as an equal partner. A bi-partisan attitude acknowledges that Republicans have the well-being of the country at heart and also have some good ideas. Most fundamentally, it means civility, respect, and even the open hand of friendship.
I'm still thinking these things through, so this may not be my last word on the subject. Just one more observation: because there are so many different takes on what bi-partisanship means, the media opinion and analysis are all over the place with judgement, opinion, blame. The lack of accuracy in using the word has led to an open season of criticism. But it's silly to argue that we're falling short of a goal when there's no agreement on what the goal is.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
To my friend, Ceil
Are you busy getting ready for your trip?
Silly question in a way. When we were 20 it took about 15 minutes to get ready to jump in the car and drive 1000 miles. Now there seem to be all kinds of things to plan for and think about. We're such different creatures in our 60's, it's difficult to find the thread back to who we were 40 years ago.
Silly question in a way. When we were 20 it took about 15 minutes to get ready to jump in the car and drive 1000 miles. Now there seem to be all kinds of things to plan for and think about. We're such different creatures in our 60's, it's difficult to find the thread back to who we were 40 years ago.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
What is the innate foolishness at the core of your persona????? I don’t understand. It is not visible, whatever it is. Have you misdiagnosed yourself? WHAT? Explain please.
I don't know if I can put it in words. I had a very profound experience that was the biggest gift of all from the est training and that is the ability to laugh at myself and see my own foolishness. Not foolishness in a bad or negative way and not foolishness as if I were foolish and other people weren't. It's a foolishness that is common to humanity but which we all feel the need to cover. Pretty much like the fact that we're all naked but wear clothing so we can't see t he nakedness. The foolishness is closely aligned with absurdity and it really can't be "understood" by our minds. The closest I can come to describing it, I guess, is as a really deep belly laugh. There's nothing mental about that; it's pure experience. In this case the belly laugh has stayed with me for 28 years and my eyes crinkle when I even think about it.
I don't know if I can put it in words. I had a very profound experience that was the biggest gift of all from the est training and that is the ability to laugh at myself and see my own foolishness. Not foolishness in a bad or negative way and not foolishness as if I were foolish and other people weren't. It's a foolishness that is common to humanity but which we all feel the need to cover. Pretty much like the fact that we're all naked but wear clothing so we can't see t he nakedness. The foolishness is closely aligned with absurdity and it really can't be "understood" by our minds. The closest I can come to describing it, I guess, is as a really deep belly laugh. There's nothing mental about that; it's pure experience. In this case the belly laugh has stayed with me for 28 years and my eyes crinkle when I even think about it.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Laughing at myself not laughing at myself
The only thing that's different about me is that I have mostly come to recognize the innate foolishness that's at the core of my persona. We can all see it in others but hope it's not so visible in ourselves. And I still have that. But at the same time, if someone says "All fools step forward", I'm putting on my clown hat and stepping forward. And nothing makes me happier and freer. Except for sometimes when I pretend that I'm not really a fool. Proof, of course, that I AM a fool!
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Mid-January Politics
When Obama won in Iowa, I was really excited. Having been undecided between Clinton and Obama, I took my own excitement as an indication that I actually had a preference. However, when Clinton won in New Hampshire, I was also excited. I'm excited tonight that she won in Nevada. It seems I'm just excited about watching a democrat win. Period. I was so down and dejected when George W. won in 2004, that I felt this country had become something I didn't recognize. It was unfathomable that the majority - or something close to it - didn't see what I saw in Bush and his presidency.
I don't like the "piling on" that happens with Hillary. She is often treated as if she had no feelings and could be spoken to and spoken of as if she were an insentient being. I only saw news clips after the fact of her tearing up moment in New Hampshire; and I think it was important to the election result. What moved me was the moment in the debate - which I did see as it occurred, when she responded to the question about Obama being more like-able by saying that that hurts her feelings. She moved on quickly as if to not make too much of it, but for me there was a genuiness that was important.
That being said, my dislike for the mob mentality regarding Hillary has shown me that I participate in the same thing when it comes to Bush. There is almost nothing about him or his presidency that I admire, and the truth is I have enjoyed the fact that so many fellow citizens now agree with my assessment. It's fun after all these years to be able to say out-loud what I really think about Bush and Cheney. But I think I will take a conscious step back and observe rather than comment. Piling on is not honorable behavior if I want to live in a civilization that has public servants worth honoring. And I do believe we get the politicians we deserve.
I don't like the "piling on" that happens with Hillary. She is often treated as if she had no feelings and could be spoken to and spoken of as if she were an insentient being. I only saw news clips after the fact of her tearing up moment in New Hampshire; and I think it was important to the election result. What moved me was the moment in the debate - which I did see as it occurred, when she responded to the question about Obama being more like-able by saying that that hurts her feelings. She moved on quickly as if to not make too much of it, but for me there was a genuiness that was important.
That being said, my dislike for the mob mentality regarding Hillary has shown me that I participate in the same thing when it comes to Bush. There is almost nothing about him or his presidency that I admire, and the truth is I have enjoyed the fact that so many fellow citizens now agree with my assessment. It's fun after all these years to be able to say out-loud what I really think about Bush and Cheney. But I think I will take a conscious step back and observe rather than comment. Piling on is not honorable behavior if I want to live in a civilization that has public servants worth honoring. And I do believe we get the politicians we deserve.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A day in the life
I'm absorbed in the process of starting my own design business at the same time I'm winding down from 30 years of working at Security Title in Phoenix. The real estate meltdown has affected my entire family. I was just laid off, my son is struggling to keep his real estate business going after 7 years of phenomenal success, my first husband is losing his job as a real estate instructor, and my husband is idling in retirement when he would normally be building a custom home or two. My best friend and my daughter-in-law are both hanging on to jobs in escrow but not with any sense of security. We worked through the 1980 recession and the S&L meltdown and the 2006 boom, but the current market conditions appear to be the most extreme in our lifetime.
The biggest lesson I have to learn in starting my own business is how to balance my work and home life. I've always been a little bit compulsive about working. In my younger days, I worked as if success was the be all and end all of my existence. For the past 11 years, I worked part time, and gradually came to terms with the fact that I had made life choices that precluded my obtaining the level of corporate recognition I longed for. As a little girl, I dreamed of growing up to be vice president of something rather than dreaming of my wedding day. However, when one marries a man who lives 100 miles from one's office and settles down to working 3 days a week, there's a career price to pay. Although I would make the same choice all over again, I spent a lot of time and tears coming to terms with the cost of my choices.
Actually, as I think about it, that theme has occurred before in my life. When I married the first time, at the age of 19, I failed completely to understand the scope of that decision. I knew I wasn't wildly in love, but he was fun to be with and I was tired of school. It was May, 1965, and his name was up on the draft. A few months later, the marriage exemption for the draft was dropped, but we got under the wire. As a wedding present, his parents offered to pay for a trip to Europe or a down payment on a house. We chose the trip to Europe, of course. In order to leave the country, he had to appear before the draft board - at which time he was declared 4-F (ineligible for the draft) because of a minor health issue. I don't know when it finally dawned on me that I had made a life-altering decision as if it were a choice of going to the movies or not.
A couple of years later a friend had a new baby and declared us god-parents. One afternoon while baby-sitting for this cuddly new baby, I decided that having a baby would be a lovely idea. Never mind the fact that I was a junior at Arizona State University and had every intention of graduating. So I argued the case, stopped my birth control pills, and promptly got pregnant. A few months into my pregnancy, I began to realize the monumental irreversibility of the decision I had made. Not only was I going to have a baby, but I truly wanted my children to be close in age as my sister and I were. To that end, the decision to have the first baby necessarily included the decision to have another. And thus, my two sons. My point is definitely not to regret the having a baby decision. It's only to illustrate that I never anticipated any life-altering consequences to any of my decisions.
The biggest lesson I have to learn in starting my own business is how to balance my work and home life. I've always been a little bit compulsive about working. In my younger days, I worked as if success was the be all and end all of my existence. For the past 11 years, I worked part time, and gradually came to terms with the fact that I had made life choices that precluded my obtaining the level of corporate recognition I longed for. As a little girl, I dreamed of growing up to be vice president of something rather than dreaming of my wedding day. However, when one marries a man who lives 100 miles from one's office and settles down to working 3 days a week, there's a career price to pay. Although I would make the same choice all over again, I spent a lot of time and tears coming to terms with the cost of my choices.
Actually, as I think about it, that theme has occurred before in my life. When I married the first time, at the age of 19, I failed completely to understand the scope of that decision. I knew I wasn't wildly in love, but he was fun to be with and I was tired of school. It was May, 1965, and his name was up on the draft. A few months later, the marriage exemption for the draft was dropped, but we got under the wire. As a wedding present, his parents offered to pay for a trip to Europe or a down payment on a house. We chose the trip to Europe, of course. In order to leave the country, he had to appear before the draft board - at which time he was declared 4-F (ineligible for the draft) because of a minor health issue. I don't know when it finally dawned on me that I had made a life-altering decision as if it were a choice of going to the movies or not.
A couple of years later a friend had a new baby and declared us god-parents. One afternoon while baby-sitting for this cuddly new baby, I decided that having a baby would be a lovely idea. Never mind the fact that I was a junior at Arizona State University and had every intention of graduating. So I argued the case, stopped my birth control pills, and promptly got pregnant. A few months into my pregnancy, I began to realize the monumental irreversibility of the decision I had made. Not only was I going to have a baby, but I truly wanted my children to be close in age as my sister and I were. To that end, the decision to have the first baby necessarily included the decision to have another. And thus, my two sons. My point is definitely not to regret the having a baby decision. It's only to illustrate that I never anticipated any life-altering consequences to any of my decisions.
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