A Wing And A Prayer

I walked out of class at noon today to hear the news of the horrendous tragedy on the Virginia Tech campus - the murder of 31 students and injuries to that many more. I walked in to school this morning, as did those students and faculty, eager to share in the learning process. During the hours of my classes, those who should have been in the midst of something similar were experiencing something that none of us can even imagine.

My classes are relatively small - 10 in each. It suddenly struck me that the acts of the troubled gunman in Virginia, had the scenario taken place here, would have wiped out both of my classes plus some. My heart goes out to the faculty members and students who must live the entirety of their lives with the reality of what happened to them today.

As one preparing to send my own child off to college in the fall, I also try to put myself in the place of all the parents anxiously awaiting a phone call from their own child saying that they are OK. With the strain on the phone lines, I can only imagine the agony that such waiting must cause.

I listened to a press conference where a student from a campus a few miles away from Virginia Tech asked the university president what things might/should/will be changed to prevent a similar situation in the future. This poor man, who was still trying to get a handle on what had already happened, gave an honest "I don't know."

Is it even realistic to think that we can prevent such attacks? In the past ten or so years our country has seen crazed gunman enter schools, from elementary to college, killing many innocent victims. Similar rampages have occurred in shopping malls and restaurants. The sad truth is that any day, any time, any place that we go could prove to be the backdrop for a drama like this to unfold. How scary is that?

So what do we, as a society, do? Do walk around 24/7 scared? Do we ignore the hard facts? Do we take matters into our own hands? Do we hold on tightly to all the faith that we have? Each of these possibilities is fraught with its own difficulties. What are the ramifications of a world where everyone walks around scared ALL of the time? Much will be lost to us. I suspect that we would shy away from people, not trusting anyone. We would not venture far from our own homes, thus missing all that good that life has to offer. What kind of life would we have if we lived in constant fear? I can safely say that I would be miserable.

On the other hand, we can not ignore the fact that all that happens in our world is not good. I don't wish the devastating events of today on any other human being. But generally speaking, if all that we experience all the time is good, the blessing of things good is weakened. I really believe that we need the "not so good" for balance, to make us appreciate all that is good.

And taking matters into our hands . . .I am fairly certain that this approach is what cost all of those students and faculty members their lives today. What kind of pain must a human being be feeling that he could deliberately make his way to a college campus, walk to a building full of innocent people, and open fire? What was solved by him looking for resolution by taking matters into his own hands? My prayers ascend for all those whose lives have been forever changed today; I also pray for the gunman. It is hard for me to say that and it is even harder for me to do. But, I must.

Tomorrow I will send my children to school and I will walk into my classroom and greet my own students as I do each school day. I will do so praying that we will all be safe but knowing that there is no way to assure us safety; and that in reality, what happened today could happen anywhere, to anyone.

With all of this, I arrive at tomorrow on a wing and a prayer.

UNexpectations

This weekend I attended the DFW Fiber Fest. I signed up to take a few knitting classes and the rest of the weekend was spent helping (i hope) with the booth that The Knitting Fairy, The Accidental Knitter, and Spirit of Knitting shared. I expected to meet a few new people, learn something, and knit a bunch. On these three points, all went as expected. However, as is the case most often, it is the unexpected that was most memorable.

On Friday, I took an all-day class on knitting Turkish Socks. I love the colors and patterns in these socks and have fantasized about knitting a pair for years. But, the perfectionist in me wanted to do them the "right" way which translates to knitting them from the toe up. I have read the instructions for this technique several times but this blind girl is a visual learner and I just wasn't getting it from the written instructions. After only the second attempt to cast on and get going, I achieved success! This is due to a great teacher, Lynn Hershberger. Thank you Lynn! I am a firm believer, from my vantage point as both a teacher and a student, that no matter how knowledgeable an individual is, if they do not have a personality that resonates a passion for teaching, nothing will happen in the classroom.

I finished my mini sock. It was not perfect by any means. (We knit on so few stitches that when I got to the color pattern on the cuff, my floats were to tight.) That doesn't really matter. I learned and I am going to make a me-sized sock (once I finish the things for the upcoming issue of Spirit of Knitting).

Then the real unexpected - the tornado sirens that went off a few minutes before the event fashion show was to begin. We were all instructed to make sure that we had ID with us and to take cover in an interior meeting room as quickly as possible. Several tornadoes had already touched down to the west of us and were making their way in our direction. We all did as we were told. There were people making calls to loved ones on their cell phones, others knitting (what else should one do in a stressful situation?), and others of us talking with those around us. I manged to leave my knitting in the booth and my cell phone was in an undisclosed location. So, I was one of those talking. I talked with several new people and an acquaintance who I had not seen for some time. The caring and good humor shared was another of those wonderful unexpected experiences. After about 30 minutes we were given the "all clear" and the night's events went on as planned. The good humor that began as were we were being ambushed by the violent storms continued through the fashion show. The atmosphere was fun and light=hearted.

Saturday - work the booth in the morning and another class in the afternoon. At the end of the day, we went to dinner at a local Chinese restaurant. It is amazing what ensues when a lack of sleep, a hard day's work, a wicked sense of humor, and good friends are combined. In a moment of absolute maturity, we played a round of the game that involves everyone adding the phrase "in Bed" to the end of the words of wisdom found in their fortune cookie. My fortune read, "A short stranger will soon enter your life with blessings to share." Okay . . .you can stop laughing now. In this case of our dining adventure, it was our waiter who would have been well-served to expect the unexpected. Oh well, we tipped him generously.

Today was spent entirely in our booth. This allowed the opportunity to meet more people. This afternoon, Lynn (Friday's teacher) gave me a gift of a CD of the music she and her husband create. Knitting and music in the same place - awesome! And, it is a genre that I don't normally listen to - songs of the 1920's performed with voice and ukulele - so again. a new and unexpected experience.

I must admit that my people quotient was about to max out by the end of the day but that is my baggage and had nothing really to do with the people I was with. I just reach a saturation level of sociability and then I can absorb no more. So, I retire to the solitude of my office, fantasize about the sock I want to start and ponder the unexpected. Oh wait . . .then it is no longer the unexpected.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

As a writer, it is both disheartening and refreshing when someone else expresses your thoughts more elegantly than you can. In this situation is where I find myself today. The words are from Taigo Ryokan (1758-1831), a Buddhist monk and poet.

I've never bothered about getting ahead
But just gone leisurely letting things take their way.
In my bag are three measures of rice
A bundle of firewood sits by the hearth
Who cares about delusion and enlightenment?
What use is there in fame and fortune?
In my hut I listen to the evening rain and stretch my legs without a care in the world.

Perhaps this translates to "don't worry, be happy". It has taken me a long time to come to a place where I can honestly say that I believe these words. It is a shame that most of us lose at least a few years, and some more, trying to get ahead - whatever that means. I have come to realize that, for me, being ahead means that I am genuinely happy. Happiness is a rare commodity it seems; experiencing it first hand puts one way ahead of many others without that even being an intended goal.

I don't think that being a happy person means that you are always walking around as Tigger; it means at your root, you are happy. This comes from being able to let go of all those requirements that are put on our lives by other people. This is not to say that we should shirk responsibility but rather that we feel free enough to be true to ourselves. It is imperative that we each take a journey inward and discern what makes YOU happy. And, it is okay if what I discover and what you discover differ greatly. For Ryokan, happiness was found in three measures of rice, a bundle of firewood, and the ability to enjoy the evening rain. How would your poem read?

Though I find myself a little frazzled right now because I have many little things to accomplish, I am comforted by the fact that I can say honestly that I am not worried. What needs to get done will get done and everything else must not have been as important as it seemed at one time. The fact that I was able to step away from those nagging chores and take a few minutes to read, and find the words of Ryokan, is all the evidence I need to be convinced that it is good to "stretch my legs without a care in the world"..

Pace e bene.

Spring Daze

In theory, it is springtime in Texas. The trees are budding and stands of bluebonnets line many of the highways in the metroplex. The rich blue of the flowers against the deep green of grass, thanks to an abundanceof rain in the last few weeks, is definitely confimation that spring is in the air. Today, both me and the bluebonnets were shocked by what else was in the air - near freezing temperatures and snow flurries! How does this figure into the spring scenario? I guess it is another example of life being an array of contrasts. Somehow, the white snow flakes enhanced the vibrancy of the colors of the grass and the bluebonnets.

Today was a study in color all the way around. We were helping our buddy, The Accidental Knitter, get her yarns ready for a local Fiber Fest. After winding thousands of yards of wool, we became a little slap happy and began naming the color palettes of the various hanks. It was quite amusing. It is a good thing that no psychiatrist was around; we probably all would have been hauled away by the little men in white jackets. I will share some of the rejected color names. If your are as warped as we are, I am sure that the palettes will appear to you in vivid color. If not, visit The Accidental Knitter (as well as the Knitting Fairy, and Spirit of Knitting) at the DFW Fiber Fest next weekend.

Okay, close your eyes and imagine:

• I Should Have Been A Cardiologist
• Sunburned Frog
• Prom Queen
• Emergency Room Visit
• Lawnmower Accident
• Peep Encounter
• Easter, The Sequel
• Green Eggs and Ham
• Queen Victoria's Underwear
• Spring Daze
• Petri Dish
• Bluebonnets In The Snow

All this with the help of a little sugar, caffeine, and good friends. Watch out OPI. You may be next!

The point of this? It was good clean fun, something that is hard for many people to come by these days. I am appauled by the number of adults who find it impossible to have a good time without a bit of alcohol. Don't get me wrong; I really am not against drinking - responsibly of course. But, I do feel sorry for those people who can't enjoy themselves without a little liquor. In my case, I am perfectly capable of making an ass of myself without it so why go to the trouble of getting drunk. Besides, if I had been drinking, I would not have remembered all of the rejected color namess and this entry would have been about hangovers or something equally as boring.

I wish you all a colorful spring. And, Happy Easter. May the Easter bunny bring you eggs the colors of a Spring Bouquet rather than those of a 140 degree chocolate bunny.

Joy Sticks

Last weekend Erin went to a UIL math competition. I was proud of her for making the math team because she was the only freshman. She allowed as that being a freshman was the least significant factor in her minority status. More important is the fact that she is not male, Asian, or the owner of a Nintendo DS. These seem to be the markers fro true math geeks. (Okay, I admit it. Everyone is a little bit racist.) There is not much she can do about not being male or Asian, but the Nintendo DS is at least a possibility.

Like most these days, our family has had our share of game systems - Nintendos, Game Cube, PS2 - and we have all enjoyed them. And for Erin, the Gameboy that was a primary source of entertainment during elementary school has been replaced by an Ipod as her constant companion. She did ask for the Nintendo DS saying that it was important to her success as a math nerd. This is not such an unreasonable request, is it?

For years, video games have been targeted as the devil in the lives of children; they make kids fat, stupid and violent. What made kids fat, stupid, and violent before video games existed? Blaming any single thing for all the problems with the youth of our society is absurd. Like anything, video games probably have some negatives, but I think that the positives far outweigh any negative impact that playing games has.

I may be from the first generation of real video game playing kids though I came to it much later than my own children. I was in college before I became a serious video game player. Pac-Man was the reason I graduated magna cum laud in three years. Almost every night, after practicing and studying, a friend and I would head to the local pizza joint, usually around 11 pm. We would each drop a quarter in the table top Pac-Man machine and play for hours, often leaving an unfinished game when the restaurant closed at 2 am. Granted I did spend a great deal of time sitting at the game table, it did not make me fat. How can you eat when you have a hand on the joy stick constantly? It did not make me stupid. In fact, it was pretty good at honing hand-eye coordination, problem solving skills, and patience. And, it certainly did not make me violent. I still have a special place in my heart for Blinky. I admit it. While in college game playing was therapy. In addition to Pac-Man, there was Q-bert and Dig-Dug. Wow! I miss those guys. Another true confession: an hour and a half before I got married, my maid of honor and I were at this very pizza place playing Pac-Man.

I must confess that 20 some years later, I still play games, in much the same way as I did back then. Only now, it is Zuma or Puzzle Inlay on my computer in the wee hours of the night. Now the benefit is not so much therapy as it is that they say that as you age, your mind will stay sharper if you do puzzles or the like each day. So, Zuma becomes an age-defying agent. Actually, I really don't care about the benefits, or lack thereof, I simply enjoy playing games.

As a parent I suppose that I should take the whole game playing thing a little more seriously. What if all those people are right and it is bad for kids. No. They can't possibly be right. I think that playing video games may have more benefit now than it did back when I started playing.

If nothing else, video games bridge the generation gap. Today in my class at school (yes, it is a music theory class), we had a long discussion about games and game playing. Almost every one of my students has some kind of game system and plays regularly. I took my jaunt down memory lane mentioning to them the games from my youth. Much to my amazement, they had heard of, and some of them had even played, all the arcade games from the early 80's.

In an effort not to be one of those parents stuck in the past, I make an effort to play the current games with my kids as well. Me playing DDR is quite entertaining. It doesn't really matter that I am terrible at it; what is important is that the girls and I all have fun and we do it together.

When my children have children of their own, I hope that they will reminisce about their days playing Mario, FIFA soccer, Spyro and DDR. And, maybe there will be a Pac-Man machine at the senior citizen center so I can share the joy and show the grandchildren how it all started.

The World Is Round

Last week I took Harley back to the knit shop to see Jackie. I wanted to take Jackie a gift to say thank you for having been kind enough to rescue Harley. It is often difficult to find an appropriate gift for off-the-wall occasions such as this. Having no idea what I wanted, we went to an off-the-wall little shop off the square here in Denton. I found what I thought was the perfect thing - a keychain in the shape of an angel wing that had inscribed on it "The world is round. What often seems like the end is really the beginning." I think that it had an attribution but I can't tell you who it is.

These words certainly ring true to the situation that Harley found herself in on that cold February morning. Between the subfreezing temperatures and the amount of traffic in the area where she was found, the end seemed more of a possibility than did a beginning. We were all blessed and that day the odds were beat; it was a beginning.

I was struck again tonight by the truth that rings in these words. The soccer banquet was this evening. This is the real end of the soccer season. And for Brooke, the end of her soccer career. Brooke went out with a bang by earning the team's MVP award for the second year in a row. The coaches had kind words to say to all of the graduating seniors and the senior slide show, done by one of the parents, was a touching tribute to what these kids have accomplished thus far in their lives.

For the past three years I have attended the soccer banquet and wondered how I would feel when it was my child who was the senior. There were some tonight who were a little teary. I thought this might be me but I found myself hearing the words on the angel wing key ring. This was more of a beginning than an end.

True, Brooke may not play soccer anymore but isn't there more to life than soccer? All that she learned about team spirit, discipline, concentration, frustration, winning and losing must be transferable in the life that is yet to come. And, hopefully, whatever her coaches and teammates saw that made them honor her as MVP must be something that might help her to be an MVP in some other endeavor.

Though I will miss her next year when she goes to Chicago, I am excited that Brooke will be experiencing new things and that she will be swimming in a bigger pond. And as for soccer, Erin still has three more years so it is not over for me! Maybe when Erin is a senior I will feel differently. It may really be the end of watching the girls play, of sitting in the rain, snow and bitter cold . . .

Erin could play soccer in college.

To Be Or Not To Be

If you are reading this hoping for Shakespeare, sorry. I am not feeling that literate today. I am thinking about fads - those things whose mention is followed by "Thank God that is over." You know what I am talking about - excessive blue eye shadow, disco, pet rocks, streakers, "Baby On Board" signs, beanie babies, dashboard hula dancers, Furby. Aren't you glad that these things are history? Fads are things that seemed like a good idea at the time but in hind sight it is patently obvious that they weren't.

Then there are the things that disappeared only to return again - Care Bears, platform shoes, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. What makes anyone think that what was not such a good idea 10 or 20 years ago is a good idea now? Besides, it makes me feel really old to see them come back again.

I am waiting impatiently for some of today's fads to disappear. And, I will do my part to make sure that they never have a second chance. Do we ever want to see low rise jeans and reality TV again?

Why bring this all up today? Two seemingly unrelated things happened today that made me think about the life expectancy of those things that fall into the category of "fad".

It has been ten years since BK and I wrote and published the first edition of Holding Your Prayers In Your Hands. At that time, our spiritual director said to us, "You know that this Anglican rosary thing is just a fad and will probably not last." What is the proper response to such a statement? The Catholic rosary has been around for 600 years; maybe we will be as lucky? All we could say was that that was a risk that we were willing to take. I am happy to say that he was wrong.

Ten years later, the books are still selling. The only advertising we have ever done is by word of mouth and we sell roughly 100 books per month. Some of those sales are to bookstores who are repeat customers. Others are to individuals who are just discovering the Anglican rosary as a personal prayer tool.

We had a phone call yesterday from a man here in Denton who was interested in the book. Sparing many of the conversation's details here, the upshot was that we met him for coffee this afternoon. The enthusiasm with which he met us and our book was evidence that the interest in the Anglican rosary is still alive and fresh. We had a wonderful conversation about the book, the Episcopal Church, the spiritual life, and a mutual interest in St. Francis. As it turns out, our sharing culminated with this person saying that he has been researching the Third Order of the Society of St. Francis and he wanted to know if we knew anyone involved with this group. One would have to be blind to not see God's hand in bringing us together this afternoon. And it was all made possible through our book, the potential fad.

The other thing that happened that furthered my thinking on fads was the result of a trip to the sewing machine shop. (No, I am not going back to making my children's clothing like my mother did!) BK and I went to pick up our machines that were being serviced. We were about to leave when we saw what looked to be needle felting on a work table. No knitter will resist the urge to comment on seeing a hunk of roving and the accompanying felted project. Innocently we asked the woman working who was doing the needle felting. She got all excited and said that "that machine right there does it." Machine? Why does one need a machine? You can go to Hobby Lobby and buy all of the necessary implements, none of which is a machine. Okay, I'll bite. "How much does this machine cost?" $349. "Three hundred and forty-nine dollars?!" You can buy the materials to needle felt by hand for about $25 and have the satisfaction of beating the heck out of the fiber yourself. Why would anyone buy said machine? Here is where the fad thing comes in again.

We all know that needle felting is a "craze". You got it; that translates to fad. Once the fad is over, what do you do with this machine? Maybe it will earn a place in a museum next to 8 track tape players, rotary telephones, and televisions with picture tubes.

I will continue, as long as it is cool, to needle felt by hand saving myself more than $300 by not buying the Needle Felting Machine. Plus, I will enjoy the therapeutic value of pushing all those needles into the wool as a means of releasing tension. As for our book, we will relish in the satisfaction given us by "the fad" as long as it is to be.