Turtle Wisdom, part 2: Reliable Membership

(This is part 2 of my Turtle Wisdom series, exploring the Map of Relationships on Al Turtle’s website.)
Back to the introduction.


Previously, I explored the first skill on Al Turtle’s Map of Relationships: Safety. Today I’m going to look at the second piece of the Biological Dream, which he calls “Reliable Membership”.


Al says, “All humans require reliable, sufficient and not excessive, contact with other humans.”



Humans are social animals. We need to live in a herd to increase our survivability. I think we can all agree that this is a biological requirement for children up to a certain age (Al suggests age 7 or 8). And in adulthood there is still a biological drive for connection, although it can be overridden by a history of unpleasant social experiences. For example, as Al notes, people become hermits when they’ve repeatedly experienced unpleasantness when trying to connect with others.

But since survival is the primary biological goal, our brains evolved circuitry for social behavior. This circuitry is mainly located in the area of the brain called the limbic system, which as you may recall from my previous post, is located in the “midbrain”—right on top of the Lizard! (If you are just joining us, go back here to learn about your Lizard.)

The significance of this location is that the neural connections between our need to connect with others and our panic button (fight or flight reaction) are very short and very quick. In other words, any threats to our need for social connection are seen quickly and clearly by the Lizard. And we know what happens when our Lizard is activated!



How much connection do we require?

All people are basically the same in that we have this biological drive to live with others. But we differ in the amount of connection we require. Al draws from attachment theory to posit that the amount of connection we each find comfortable is formed in childhood. Our childhood experience with connection ranges from “absolute unreliability or insufficiency of connection to absolute excessive connection.” We are all located somewhere on that continuum. Al also notes that as we grow our required amount of contact may change, so we could move up or down this continuum.

Al labels the behaviors that result from our differing needs for connection “clinging” and “avoiding.”* And, he outlines the differences beautifully in this chart (I have paraphrased some for brevity):

Clingers: Received Unreliable or Insufficient Contact in Childhood

Children who got too little or intermittent connection from caregivers have very active Lizards—they panic. They survive by developing Clinging skills: staying close, holding on, resisting separation. These survival skills of clinging and pursuing, driven by panic, become habits and follow the child into adulthood.

Reactive Behavior
When these adults panic, they move toward others, especially their partner. They ask questions, follow, push toward, talk at, and in general become invasive of their partner’s space. As an adult clinging may become very controlling, possessing, captivating, cornering. This is the source of stalking behavior.

Symptom
Frequent thoughts or fears of your partner leaving you behind.

Focus
When nervous, you will focus on your partner’s evasiveness, withdrawal, silence. You may also have day or night dreams of safe togetherness – of finally living happily forever.


Avoiders: Received Excessive or Unpleasant Contact in Childhood

Children who experience too much or painful contact also have active Lizards—they panic. They survive by developing Avoiding skills. These are behaviors that do not invite contact. Even when hungry these children don’t cry. We often call them “good babies,” but really they are happier when left alone. As these children grow, when they can walk, they develop isolating skills, such as having hiding places, wandering off, climbing trees and not coming down, running away, sitting at the far end of the room, etc. These survival skills of avoiding and isolating, driven by panic, become habits and follow the child into adulthood.

Reactive Behavior
When these adults panic, they move away from others, especially their partner. They are quiet, self-contained, elusive, non-talkative, and in general, emotionally cold.

Symptom
Your mind often goes blank when your partner talks, asks, or moves toward you.

Focus
When nervous, you will focus on your partner’s invasiveness, attacking, pushing, and you may dream of peace, quiet, and space.

Like Al, I prefer to not label people Clingers and Avoiders. Rather, people display clinging and avoiding behaviors. It is an important distinction because we can become clinging or avoiding at different times in our lives and within different relationships. (In this post, however, I will use "Clingers" and "Avoiders" for convenience when explaining the differences.)

Often we respond in reaction to the person we are with, usually taking on the opposite role. I tend to be clinging in my marriage (in response to Jason’s avoiding tendencies), but I once had a boyfriend who was somewhat smothering and I remember developing some strong avoiding behaviors to get the space I desired. This also works with friendships. As a child, I remember so strongly desiring friendship with a particular girl that I became very clinging, always calling her, asking her to come out to play. And I had another friend in high school who was so clinging with me, that I began hesitating before returning her calls, and I stopped inviting her along every time my friends got together.

But I agree with Al that we seem to have a natural tendency towards one side of the continuum as a result of childhood experiences (attachment theory) and in-born traits (personality theory). I can see how introverting vs. extraverting preferences could have some effect on this. I think the most important factor, however, that determines a person’s general position on the continuum is what activates their Lizard. Do you feel more unsafe or panicked when there is a threat of isolation, or do you feel more unsafe and panicked when there is a threat of overwhelming and unpleasant contact?

Let’s look at what all of this means for relationships.


The Problem

“When a Clinging person gets nervous, they tend to move toward their partner in order to reduce their panic. The Avoiding partner sees someone coming and, starting to panic, they move away. The Clinger sees their partner moving away, and moves faster. The Avoider runs faster from the clinging person, who is now chasing them. The two run toward what I call the Leaving Wall, the wall at the edge of the relationship – the Divorce Wall.”
~Al Turtle

A Clinger is scared of their partner leaving. They panic when their partner says things like, “I can’t take this anymore” or “I need to get away.” When panicked, Clingers often visualize their partner divorcing them, having an affair, or dying, etc. They then try to protect themselves by trying to get more connection. Which, of course, pushes an avoiding partner further away.

Remember:



For an Avoider, leaving is a move towards safety. Instead, what scares them is the lack of space in a relationship. Avoiders often see contact as conflict. When panicked, they will move towards leaving a relationship if there is no built in safe space within the relationship.




Skills for Relationships

1. Create safe space within the relationship by learning how to take Time Outs. (Al gives specifics about Time Outs here.)

2. Clingers need to learn to be happy when alone and learn to switch to the on-your-own mode quickly.

3. Clingers often need to find other sources of connection in the world. But, and as Al says “this is a big but,” you can’t draw on sources that would threaten your partner. So build a network of friends, join volunteer organizations, keep pets, etc. And learn to shift from connecting with your partner to alone-mode, to friends, and back to your partner quickly, keeping the connection time with your partner the highest priority.

4. Avoiders need to learn to anticipate their need for space, and signal their partner when they need a Time Out.

5. Avoiders need to tend to their partner’s need for reliability by showing that their need for space is not a move towards leaving. Often, simply stating when you’ll return is enough to keep your partner calm. For example, “I need a time out—I’ll be in the garage for about two hours.” Or “I’d really like to read my book now, I’ll come back downstairs at 10:00 and we can talk about the kids then.” Al calls this Relationship Responsibility—“You can’t blame your partner for your need for space. You have to come back.”

And one last note. When in the midst of a clinging/avoiding event (when both lizards are panicked and the clinging partner begins chasing the avoiding partner who is sprinting towards the door) it is very important for the clinging partner to take the lead. Ideally, Clingers need to learn to call a Time Out for the Avoider, before the Avoider even realizes that they need it. This is because panic causes a Clinger to activate and an Avoider to shut-down. The frozen Avoider cannot call a Time Out when their brain has shut down. Al has a wonderful essay explaining this idea which he calls The Testicle Principle (even just finding out why he chose this name makes the essay well worth the read!)


So, that’s the second step on the Map. We’ve now explored the first two steps towards Vintage Love: learning to live with your Lizards and understanding each others’ needs for reliable connection. Interestingly, these are both unconscious aspects of the Biological Dream. The Lizard acts without our conscious control, and our need for connection is a hard-wired drive.

The next three skills on the Map are conscious: diversity, autonomy, and purpose. At first I thought that these would be the easy ones. That I have already learned good skills to maintain these aspects in my relationships. Boy, was I surprised!

Just wait…
:)



* This concept was first discussed by Harville Hendrix, the founder of Imago Relationship Therapy. He used the terms “fusers and isolaters.”

Turtle Wisdom—a series about being human

In my last post I shared Al Turtle’s Map of Relationships. His ideas have sparked lots of introspection for me, and I find much wisdom in his approach to understanding human behavior.

I’ve decided to explore myself using Al’s map as a guide and to invite you along! I'll be posting each step of my adventure. Along the way, perhaps you will relate to my thoughts. Perhaps you’ll discover a new perspective because I’m so different from you. Perhaps I’ll even inspire you to embark on your own quest. At the very least, I hope my travels will be entertaining. :)



So here’s the plan. The map says that to get to vintage love you need to do three things:

1. Learn the following Biological Dream skills (and stop using the traditional skills learned in childhood):

a. Safety
b. Reliable membership
c. Diversity
d. Autonomy
e. Purpose

2. Heal wounds

3. Share everything


So my first challenge is to learn about safety. What is Al talking about and what do I need to do?

Have you ever felt fear or pain about something that isn’t real or isn’t actually happening? Sometimes the cause of the fear is easy to find. For example, we can understand why someone would experience a fear reaction every time they smell smoke, if we know that they escaped a house fire in childhood. But why would someone feel unsafe when they smell bleach? Or experience a freezing reaction (mind goes blank, unable to think) whenever their loving, non-abusive partner uses a particular tone of voice? The human fear response can be triggered in situations where there is no actual threat to safety. In fact, some people live in this state of fear 24/7-- we call it chronic stress.


Al Turtle blames these feelings on “the lizard." Do you have a lizard in your brain? Tune in next post to find out. Let’s explore the skill of safety.

On to part 1.

Who I Am

Currently, I'm reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. I've always been curious about books that people claim have changed their lives. And, as you may remember, Oprah was a huge follower of Tolle several years ago. So I decided to see what it was all about.

I am generally a bit skeptical of anything overly spiritual. Although I consider myself spiritual in a sense, I am atheist. And, having studied the hard sciences (biology major) and anthropology in college, I prefer to find physical or rational explanations. That said, I do believe that individuals can affect the quality of their experience in life through thought. And I am always open to hearing how another human has made sense of life, how their thoughts shape their experience. I recognize how my range of thoughts are limited by my individual experience, and I like learning new ways of thinking that I would never have conceived of on my own.

So in this spirit, I started reading A New Earth. And what I found was something fascinating...about me.

First, for those of you who haven't read Tolle, I'll do my best to summarize his ideas as I understand them thus far (I haven't finished the book yet).

Tolle says that a person is comprised of an illusory self which he calls the "ego", and the true self, or "consciousness," which is the presence within you who is hearing the thoughts of the ego. The ego is the speaker who we often think of as "I". But, he asserts that "I" is an illusion because it is given definition through human constructs (such as words). He says, "the greatest miracle is the experiencing of your essential self as prior to any words, thoughts, mental labels, and images. For this to happen you need to disentangle your sense of I, of Beingness, from all the things it has become mixed up with, that is to say, identified with." (A New Earth, page 26.)

This makes sense to me. I have been aware that there is a part of me who can hear myself thinking, that there is indeed a presence separate from and beyond the thoughts in my mind. A presence that doesn't think, it is just aware, it just "is." So, this is my true self listening to my ego. I just didn't define the two so clearly as the "ego" and my "consciousness."

What has amazed me while reading is my realization that I was fully aware of my true self from a very young age.

I remember doing a worksheet in 3rd grade (I was 8) about self identity. We had to answer questions like "my favorite food is...," "my favorite color is...," and "I'm really good at...." It is my first memory of defining my self, comparing myself to others and seeing how I am different. It was my first organized effort to figure out who I am. And I remember having a strong sense of "knowing" things that I couldn't put into words. Clearly, my intuiting function was already well developed. For example, I knew which group of friends the new girl would join upon my first interaction with her. I knew how to change my behavior to fit in with different "types". I had clear visions of how everyone in my world was connected-- I saw the structure of the interrelationships. Some of this was the development of Tolle's ego-- defining myself and the world with words and labels. But I also "knew" that my true self wasn't definable, it just was. And a few years later, that awareness became very strong.

When I was about 14 or 15, I used to wander off into the woods. I had a favorite boulder where I would sit and think. Sometimes I brought a journal. Sometimes I was working through a particular issue in my life (the usual teen situations). And sometimes I just sat to "commune with life" (as I called it then). The forest was filled with white birch trees which I loved, and I would sit and feel like I was one with them. Though my rational mind thought I was a bit bonkers at the time, I was aware of a joy that is beyond description. It was the start of my Life is Beautiful motto. I chose not to analyze it, because it was a source of strength that I knew, even then, was uncommon.

So when I read something in Tolle's book, tears came to my eyes. I felt a sense of validation that I've never felt before. He talks about the "influx of joy" and "inner peace" that fills you when you first experience the separation of the ego self (your thoughts and the content of your mind) from the simple awareness of being. Thoughts are constructs that limit our perceptions. Awareness is not limiting. It just is. This experience "happens in such a subtle way that [people] hardly notice it." (A New Earth, page 30.) This same subtle joy and peace is what came upon me in that forest. The joy of Being can only be felt "when you get out of your head. Being must be felt. It can't be thought." (A New Earth, page 40.)

How is this a strength? I have been told by several people through the years that I have a strength which they admire. In high school, my friends found my optimism curious. They joked about it, but I knew they also wished for the peace that I often felt. In college, my best friend told me I had an amazing "spiritual strength", which I chuckled at because I was on the verge of leaving my faith and embracing atheism. I hadn't considered my way of thinking a strength. To me, it was just the way life is. Just truth, as I saw it. Rational and realistic, not spiritual or some extraordinary ability to see through rosy glasses. And I didn't see myself as "stronger" than anyone else (I still don't.) I've got plenty of weaknesses. So what exactly is my "strength"?

Again, my heart stopped as I read Tolle's discussion on happiness. He says, "the primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it. Be aware of the thoughts you are thinking. Separate them from the situation, which is always neutral, which always is as it is." (A new Earth, page 96.) And furthermore, he says, "Don't seek happiness. If you seek it, you won't find it, because seeking is the antithesis of happiness. Happiness is ever elusive, but freedom from unhappiness is attainable now, by facing what is rather than making up stories about it. Unhappiness covers up your natural state of well-being and inner peace, the source of true happiness." (A New Earth, page 96.)

Yes! He has put into words something that I've "known" for all these years, but was unable to explain to others. We all have this ability to become aware of our true essence, by becoming aware of the presence behind our thoughts and emotions. And when we are aware of it, we can't help but sense a deep peace and happiness. Because happiness is our natural state of being, what "is" when we strip away all the thoughts and constructs that we have accumulated through thinking (the ego's function). This was the source of my "strength." I knew how to be free from unhappiness.

There was another reason tears came to my eyes while reading. I realized that at some time through the years I have woefully forgotten to separate my self from my ego. I have fallen into the ego's trap. I have been allowing my thoughts and emotions to define what is, instead of just "being". And as a result, I have caused pain, for myself and others.

So thank you, Eckhart Tolle, for skillfully using words to express what I could not. And for reminding me of who I am.

The Basket Weaver

Sometimes I wonder who is living my life. The life I always envisioned. I hope that she is enjoying it. It was a lovely picture.

I've been challenged with a different life. And sometimes, like today, I feel lost. Not sure what my life should look like. Not sure which colors and strokes I should, or could, be applying to the canvas. All I know is that I don’t know.

I think of the things I would have done differently. But that's not valuable in the now. As Al Turtle says, "Guilt is time travel. It is putting today's wisdom into yesterday's event-- a time at which you only had yesterday's wisdom." I don't regret any of my choices because I know that I've always used the wisdom that was available to me in each moment.

But lately, I find that I don’t trust that I have any wisdom. I feel like a newborn. My eyes have been opened to a new world. One that was unknown to my past self. So nothing I've learned is useful in this new place. I suppose knowing that I don't know is a start. I am open to anything now. Is this an awakening? Perhaps. Or perhaps it's just my self/ego denying my failings, hiding in some esoteric idea about rebirth.

Sometimes I wonder if my tendency to think and explore ideas is a curse. I tried to have a career in which I helped others. Made life a bit sunnier or easier for others. But even as a student, I learned that I had few skills of practical value. During my apprenticeship my mentor said, "Aine, you're a scholar. But, keep your hands off the clients!"

Sometimes I wish I were a basket weaver. I could sit in the sunshine and create something useful, something that people needed and wanted. Life could be simple. I would be happy.

But I'm cursed with this tendency to think and explore ideas. Which I'm not even very good at. I rarely create my own ideas. I just enjoy exploring the genius of others. Alone.

I've been ignored or even ridiculed by all of my loved ones for my passions. But I don't blame them, my passions are all useless, impractical.

Al Turtle also said, "All humans are geniuses (at something.) Look for it."

I am, Al. I'm still looking.

Perhaps my genius is my ability to hope.

But, it's a curse,too. It makes me feel alone. It's impractical, unpopular, and just plain weird, as I've been told again and again. But that's the one thing I'll never give up.

If only I could weave baskets out of it...

Connecting By Numbers (or FOUR!, part 2...)

(photos by Jason Evans)

This morning I was thinking (or, for those of you who follow my personality theory posts, intuiting) about numbers.

I've always loved numbers. They fascinate me. Each has it's own personality or vibe (in my mind, anyway.) For example, I've always loved 3 and 7-- they are the most magical numbers. And my favorite number when I was a child was 8. Because it is so symmetrical, so balanced. (Not to mention how cool it is that if you lay it on it's side it is infinity!)

But this morning I was reflecting on the significance of 4. I don't remember ever being "taken with" 4. It just had a vibe of solid integrity. Nothing flashy or magical. So I surprised myself as my intuiting led me to some interesting observations about 4. No wonder 4 always felt simply solid-- it is solid. Four creates a base, a square. And each part of the four is necessary for the integrity of the foundation. Take one away and you are left with 3-- a triangle. Triangles are mighty tricky to keep balanced. (Precisely why 3 is so exciting...it's dynamic!)

Anyway, to continue on my dissertation of 4, I (naturally) began thinking of all the 4's I know. There are four elements, four seasons, four Hogwarts houses (you knew I'd go there), four Beatles(!), four temperaments, and... (drumroll)... four cognitive functions in personality theory. Yes! There's the connection! Perhaps because we have four basic ways of thinking, we find four is the number necessary for balance. Now, let me try to put my intuition into words.

The four cognitive functions are thinking, feeling, sensing, and intuiting. We each have a dominant-- our strength. Personality experts tell us that we should not strive to achieve balance by improving our skills in the three non-dominant functions to a level that equals our dominant, because that would leave us without a strength, or a core personality. But, (here's where my love of finding evolutionary connections comes in) to survive as a group, we need the strengths that each cognitive function offers. Perhaps this is why we have evolved different personality types. To ensure that among the group there are some gifted in Thinking, some gifted in Feeling, and others gifted in Sensing and Intuiting. We need specialists. So that when we put those four cognitive strengths together, we have a solid base.

I can see how, as an Idealist, I need to have input from a Rational to keep my visions realistic and logical, otherwise my visions will never have purpose or be useful to others. I need a Guardian to ground me in priorities and integrity, otherwise I can place too much selfish importance in my desires. And, I need an Artisan to remind me that it's important to experience joy from the carefree, playful aspects of life, otherwise my life will become too serious and heavy. A world of Idealists would feel wonderful to me, but it would be a very weak community, indeed!

Personality theory expert Lenore Thomson says, "fourfold schemes in popular culture…seem archetypally perfect and become part of our social mythology. They appear to represent psychological wholeness in ways that we intuitively recognize." She pointed out that the Beatles are comprised of representatives of each of the four functions: John is the acerbic Thinker, George is the mystical Intuitive, Paul is the romantic Feeler, and Ringo is the earthy Sensation type. And I can find the same balance in the four Hogwarts houses: the Idealist Gryffindors, the Rational Ravenclaws, the Guardian Hufflepuffs, and the Artisan Slytherins. Perhaps this is why these pop culture phenomenon have such global appeal. Everyone can relate to one of the four. And all four pieces are necessary for a balanced whole.

My dominant intuitive function is humming happily today...

(But, with no disregard to 4, I still love my favorite warm, yellow, soulful 7 over there....)
:)

FOUR!

Hi everyone! Sorry I've been away from blogland for so long. School let out, and I found myself working overtime as Mom. I hope to get back to visiting all of you more regularly now that I've adapted to the summer schedule (and thank goodness for summer camp next week!)

I'm working on another Personality Theory post. It should be ready for posting by next week, so I hope you'll all stay tuned. (**keeping fingers crossed**) But in the meantime, I decided to steal a quick, easy (or so it seemed) meme which was making the blog rounds several weeks ago.

Here's my take on the Four Things Meme:


Four Movies You Can See Over and Over

Harry Potter (all of them)
Lord of the Rings
Grease (silly, I know, but it was my first favorite... )
Somewhere in Time (love the soundtrack!)


Four Places You Have Lived

Pennsylvania
Delaware

(I only have two)


Four TV Shows You Love(d) to Watch

American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance (I thought I'd lump the reality shows together)
Little House on the Prairie (I was addicted when I was 10)
Star Trek
The Twilight Zone


Four Places You Have Been on a Vacation

Germany
Disney World (Florida)
Ocean City, NJ
Chincoteague, VA


Four of your favorite foods

dark chocolate (especially 70%)
wild mushrooms
almonds
tea


Four Websites You Visit Daily

The Leaky Cauldron
The Clarity of Night (and as many blogs as I can)
Yahoo
Youtube


Four Places You Would Rather Be

On a boat, saltwater fishing
Riding a rollercoaster
At our cabin
Hogwarts (only Muggles think it's fiction...)


Four Things You Hope to Do Before You Die

See the cave paintings in Lascaux, France
Visit the pyramids of Egypt
Hold my grandchild
Follow through on at least one of my crazy therapy/career ideas


Four Novels/Books You Wish You Were Reading for the First Time
(This was really hard. Well, other than the obvious first one... )

Harry Potter (the entire series)
What to Expect When You are Expecting (such an exciting time!)
a novel by Jason :)
Please Understand Me II (by David Keirsey)

17

Eyes of dusty green

penetrating

strong line of jaw

delving

feelings of rare comfort

tingling

darkest hours of night

glowing

souls dance together

laughing

You stood with grace and calm as I walked the aisle. Strength and intelligence, under the eaves of Victorian twilight. Seventeen years ago, at seven in the evening, you joined my life's path. Thank you for the magic, for the beauty, for the understanding.

For the love.

Happy Anniversary, my Prince of Twilight.







From the deep sea of Clouds
To the island of the moon,
Carry me on the waves
To the lands I've never been,
Carry me on the waves
To the lands I've never seen.
~Enya

Finding a Home in Nursing Homes-- Elizabeth

I was introduced to Elizabeth after a warning from my new coworkers. Several of the aides rolled their eyes and sniggered as my trainer said to them, "Oh come on, she's a very nice lady…. She just likes things done her way."

Elizabeth sat in her nightgown, one arm in a sling and her eyebrow raised as we entered one of only four private rooms in the nursing home.

"Good morning!" chirped my trainer.

"You're late," stated Elizabeth, but I noted a bit of a mischievous glint in her eyes.

I soon learned that Elizabeth expected help to walk to the closet, using her four-point cane, so that she could choose which silk blouse she'd like to wear with the dark slacks that filled her closet. She also had a particular order in which she liked her sponge bath to proceed. And the entire process took at least 30 minutes, a queen's ration of the 2 ½ hours that we had to wash and dress the 12 residents on our assignment. When finished, she sat in her wheelchair with a straight back, blotting her bright red lipstick and patting her coif into place. She smiled at me.

"You'll do fine, she likes you," my trainer remarked as we swept from the room.

Elizabeth had more grace and dignity than any other resident I had ever met in my career. Though the aides joked and called her "the queen mum," I detected a friendly undercurrent. They simultaneously hated answering Elizabeth's call bell and loved receiving her approval.

As months passed, I grew closer to Elizabeth. She warmed to me quickly when she discovered that I had graduated from the same college as her son. And she appreciated my gentle touch, when other aides were a bit gruffer (which was necessary with some residents-- much like the difference between a strict, but fair teacher and a warm, gentle teacher.)

Elizabeth's stroke had left her with right-sided hemiparesis: weakness in her right side. She wore a special shoe with a brace which was difficult to put on. It required massaging her foot and ankle to relax the abnormally high muscle tone in order to slip her foot into the shoe. Many of the aides got frustrated. It soon became known that a few of us were more adept at donning the shoe. So whenever possible, we'd be called in to help. When I was called in, Elizabeth would give me the "thank goodness it's you" look along with a scowling grimace and a fake bop on the head of the aide who was kneeling in front of her, intent on stuffing her foot into the shoe. I'd smile and take over.

But the real gem underneath the dignified exterior was revealed when one of my co-workers (my best friend at that job) began teasing Elizabeth. Her sense of humor reluctantly emerged as she felt more at ease with us.

One day, the aide who trained me, my best friend, and I were in Elizabeth's room. The trainer was telling us the story of how she thought her vacuum was broken.

"I attached the hose, you know, and it wouldn't suck! It would only blow, not suck!"

Elizabeth burst into laughter along with my friend and I, as a look of embarrassed surprise came over the trainer's face.

"Oh! I didn't mean it to sound that way," she exclaimed as she giggled. But Elizabeth just waved her off and laughed heartily.

And then there was the day that Elizabeth called my friend and I into her room, blushing and insisting that we close the door. She had a book in front of her, she'd been reading a romance.

"I have a question for you. What exactly is…" she paused with a nervous smile, then whispered, "oral sex, you know, for the woman?"

My friend, who thankfully was embarrassed by nothing, explained.

"You mean… the man… does that... there?"

She had a horrified look for a moment, then, "Oh… oh!" And she smiled, causing my friend and I to giggle like teenagers at a sleepover.

Elizabeth taught me that day that it doesn't matter what time period we live in, how sophisticated we try to be, or how old we are… we are all human. All the same. These withered, weakened bodies who had lived through world wars, gender inequality, and a culture that held family values higher than any generation since, were just like me. There was no reason to feel fear or shy when helping them with basic daily tasks. I could be in that wheelchair one day. And I wouldn't want to be treated like a mothball ridden relic either.

Finding a Home in Nursing Homes

The summer I turned 19, with aspirations of becoming a physician, I landed a summer job in a nursing home. I was a Nurse's Aide. Back then, there was no licensure or educational requirements. It was all on-the-job-training. And what training it was! (Especially for a teenaged girl…I'll share more about that later!) After college, I again worked as a Nurse's Aide to gather more hands-on experience before entering graduate school for Occupational Therapy (OT) . Finally, I began my OT career specializing in geriatric rehab. Since I have many stories and experiences to share, this will be an ongoing blog series.

Photo found on Flickr

The Experience

Many people shudder at the thought of nursing homes. They conjure sad images of frail people waiting to die and cold, sparsely decorated rooms. Reality often validates these impressions. But only on the surface.

Nursing homes assault your senses. The smell of cleaning products mixed with body fluids. The sight of people napping in wheelchairs. The sound of pain, confusion, and croaks for help. (Once a woman with a stroke-damaged smile pointed and shouted to me, "There! Do you see it?! A lemming!")

However, the hushed, depressive atmosphere and the sense that you are in a place between worlds are false. In truth, nursing homes are much more warm and familiar, fun and alive, and surprisingly comfortable. A visitor can't experience those depths. Let me take you inside.

In a way, working in a nursing home is like caring for 15 infants and toddlers at once. You scramble to:

• Wipe noses and wash hands.


• Help them stand at the sink to wash and dress.


• Soothe one crying in the corner while catching one trying to escape out the door.


• Mediate squabbles.


• Help people use the toilet (and wipe).

At mealtime, there are drink boxes to open, food to cut, and fork-fuls to be fed. And there's diapers! You feel like you are constantly changing diapers. Not to mention, there's always the threat that you'll discover the source of the unseemly odor too late, only to find an artist fingerpainting with poop. Naptime seems like a break, but you've got to make sure that each one has what they require to sleep.

But despite the work, most of my days ended with a smile and a warm heart. Why? Because working with adult-sized people is about more than meeting their physical needs. Each one has a lifetime to share and lessons to teach. History lessons (I've met several folks who were born in the 19th century!). Cultural lessons. And plenty of psychology.

A nursing home is a home-- an extended family. And nothing is warmer than that.



Elizabeth

One of my beloved "grandmothers" called me into her room one day. Elizabeth knew I was engaged, and had even met Jason once. She gave me a piercing look, set her lips firmly, and declared "You must have something blue with you when you marry." Then she handed me the embroidered handkerchief pictured below.

Months later she suffered a second stroke. The charge nurse phoned me on my day off to let me know that it was "time". I sat with her for several hours, the other aides joined me when they could spare a few minutes. She quietly slipped away later that night.

And I proudly carried "something blue" down the aisle six months later.



Next time, I'll tell you about another time Elizabeth called me into her room....
:)

Aine Revealed, part 2

As promised, here are some photos from my teenage years. First, a shot of me in school, looking so alert. I think this was 7th grade, so I was 12 years old. Sorry for the poor quality, but ya know, these are rather ancient. ;)



Next, for Sarah, who asked for proof of the cheerleading... the press shot (I'm in the back row, last on the right):




Here are cheerleaders at work. (What? You thought it was all about glamour? Puh-lease.) This is my friend and I (I'm on the left), on a freezing, rainy Thanksgiving morning. It was the last game of the season, and our team blazed out with an exciting zero to zero tie! Fun game, that one.



And lastly, my junior prom photo. I was 16. My brother-in-law fancied himself an amateur photographer...too bad he didn't correct for the massive flash shadows and reflection from the vintage wood paneling. :D

Aine Revealed (part 1)

Aniket has challenged us to reveal ourselves (though I blame Jason for throwing down the gauntlet-- just had to show some skin, didn't ya, dear?). Aniket has complained that he's seen my legs and finger, but not the parts in between. Well-- here I am.



My parents used this photo for their Christmas card for my first Christmas. That's me-- the New Year Baby (we were 6 months old). Thanks for dressing me for the occasion, Mom! My brother was so roly-poly that they had to lean him against me to keep him upright.

And, here's another glimpse. I was 8. And had just experienced my first fishing trip. Notice the bountiful catch. That's unheard of in the back bays of New Jersey these days (so sad...).



That's enough for part one. Tune in next time for a teenaged version of Aine as we work up to the present.

Life is Beautiful-- and Wonderful!

I found the song! The song that captures my mantra. Sure he changed "beautiful" to "wonderful", but he didn't want to steal my phrase... ;)

Each lyric is full of meaning yet simple. As is life. We need to cherish all experiences, the positive and the negative, because "it takes the one to have the other."

So, without further ado, here is the wonderful live recording of Life is Wonderful by Jason Mraz:

It takes a crane to build a crane
It takes two floors to make a story
It takes an egg to make a hen
It takes a hen to make an egg
There is no end to what I'm saying

It takes a thought to make a word
And it takes some words to make an action
It takes some work to make it work
It takes some good to make it hurt
It takes some bad for satisfaction

La la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Al la la la la

It takes a night to make it dawn
And it takes a day to make you yawn brother
And it takes some old to make you young
It takes some cold to know the sun
It takes the one to have the other

And it takes no time to fall in love
But it takes you years to know what love is
It takes some fears to make you trust
It takes those tears to make it rust
It takes the dust to have it polished

(Chorus)

It takes some silence to make sound
It takes a loss before you found it
And it takes a road to go nowhere
It takes a toll to make you care
It takes a hole to make a mountain

(Chorus)

Fitting In

(photo by An_Tarzan on flickr)

I've been struggling with blogging lately. My interest in personality theory continues to be a huge part of my conscious thoughts, but I don't want that to be the focus of my blog.

So today I thought I'd share a glimpse into the zany, illogical way my brain works. (Which I'm sure is in large part due to my INFJ preferences.)

I had a revelation this morning. Throughout my life I've always categorized people (big surprise, eh?). But my intention has never been to label people or confine them by limitations. Rather, I use the categorizations to make interactions easier and smoother. As an introvert, I'm not a natural socializer. But I became very skilled in getting along with everyone by recognizing people's motivations, different ways of thinking, values, etc. and using that knowledge to find connections. I can't relate to everyone, but I can relate to a part of everyone.

By high school I was able to move in and out of different social cliques with ease. I was an "A" student, president of the National Honor Society, and my best friends were "brains." But, I was also a varsity cheerleader and could hang with the jocks. At school dances I was known to break dance with the basketball players. And the first guy I dated was a hard partier. At home, I was a "tomboy" and very comfortable hanging out with my brother's friends (think "greaser" meets southern rock lovers--I think I confused my classmates when I greeted those guys in the halls!) And my ballet background gave me a solid position among the drama/theater crowd.

But what I didn't know was how to label me.

So that brings me to my revelation. I started watching the vlogbrothers on Youtube. Those guys are brilliant! They are very intelligent and hilarious, but what I love most about them is the relationship they share. They just adore each other and their families. One is an award-winning novelist and the other is a web designer and environmentalist who runs ecogeek.org. What hit me while watching them, is that they are of the "type" that I most admire and (naturally) feel most awkward around. So, I created a new label for me: I am a nerd-wannabe. (Ha! Who would ever admit THAT?) I want to be as intelligent and quick witted as they are. I want to understand the nuances and implications of each reference they make. I want to be able to respond in kind: have a witty comeback, a creative thought that takes the conversation to new possibilities. I want to be like them.

So, why is it that the one "type" who I feel most awkward with is the one type I most want to be like?

Kid Writing

While searching for a drawing to use for my last post, I found a story that my daughter wrote in kindergarten. Her school uses a curriculum called "Kid Writing." Every day the students were instructed to draw a picture in their Kid Writing Journal and then write a sentence or two about it. They were taught to write any letters that they heard in the words (phonic based spelling). Then, an adult (teacher or parent volunteer) helped them translate it into "adult writing". Once a child became an independent writer (no longer needed help to compose sentences) the teacher required more, such as a paragraph.

When I saw this story, I just had to share it with you. Given Jason's writing skills and his recent sci-fi vignette, it is quite apparent that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree! LOL! Most of the kids write about something that their family did recently, describe a beloved pet, or draw a picture of their house. Not our kid-- she writes multichapter stories!


(Chapter 2: The Curse of the Aliens)

Abby and I were on the twirling bar. The aliens put a remote in the baby's brain. He took over the baby and made the baby scatter buttons around the world. Karen came. She didn't know about the buttons. She stepped on one. A box appeared. I opened the box! I didn't know it was Pandora's box. And all the sadness and sickness came out.

And, to further demonstrate the power of DNA-- here is a poem our other daughter wrote in second grade. (Jason can rest easy that his genes have been passed on!)

Love is like a rainbow in my heart.
Love is red like the first rose of the season.
Love is orange like a skinny pumpkin that grows in my garden.
Love is yellow like the first stars you see at night.
Love is green like a fresh bunch of grapes that came from the garden.
Love is blue like the crystal blue sky.
Love is indigo like the night sky with bright stars.
Love is violet like the beautiful flowers I pick in the meadow.
Happy Valentine's Day

Through a Child's Eyes

~drawing by my youngest daughter at age 5

I've been reading a book about infant brain development and I discovered a little fact that I'd never heard before: vision develops differently in boys and girls.

There are several different types of cells that send visual information from the retina to the brain. One is called parvocellular (or P cells) which link to the cones--they transmit information about color and shape of stationary objects. Another type is called magnocellular (or M cells) which link to the rods--they carry information about depth and motion.

Researchers have found that girls have more P cells and boys have more M cells. So, girls are born with a better skill in seeing shape and color (or "what something is"), whereas boys have an advantage in seeing motion, depth, and shades of gray (or "where something is"). I can easily see the evolutionary link here-- female gatherers need to recognize plants by shape and color, male hunters need to process the motion of prey to make a successful kill. But I digress…

The impact of this anatomy on preschool function is what I found so interesting. Girls tend to use many bright colors to draw things (like houses, flowers, people, or animals). While boys tend to use a few crayons, often black, gray, silver, and blue, to draw actions (car crashes, airplanes, etc.)

Just imagine the psychological impact on little Sam when his teacher (mostly females in preschool settings) inadvertently criticizes him for not using more color, or asks him to draw more "happy people." He'll get the message that he's not doing something right or somehow lacking.

And, his feeling of failure is more important than we realize. Other studies have demonstrated that children decide whether they like school by the end of their first year and that their decision remains stable throughout their lifetime!

Ack!-- I hope preschool and kindergarten teachers have heard about this! I don’t have any sons, so I haven't seen this play out. Have any of you?

Visions of Sugarplums (with a few sugar quills and chocolate frogs...)

As I'm busily preparing for the Evans' family Christmas, I thought I'd share a bit about our celebration. Particularly, the food!

In our house, Jason is the cook, and I am the baker. (Though as most moms know, I cook the everyday, routine dinners--they're just not as gourmet or tantilizing as Jason's creations...) So for our family Christmas we go all out. I've been known to bake as many as 13 different cookies, plus other delights, such as a chocolate Yule log or German nut stollen.



I have recipes that my german grandmother shared when I was a teenager (thank goodness I set a date to bake with her, my notebook in hand to record them). She was a wonderful baker--she ran an informal baking "business" in her Philadelphia home with her girlfriend. They were known for the hundreds of tins of cookies and doughnuts they created and gave to churches and neighbors every year at Christmas. The recipes that I recorded that day are full of phrases like: "a pinch of...", "two handfuls", "about two cups", "until it looks like", "use a light touch", etc.



And, the dinner that Jason prepares to precede all these sweets is grand. Here's the main event:



Yes, we roast a pig in our fireplace every Christmas Eve... Jason is "the man"! He needs to turn the spit every hour through the night. Surprisingly, after twelve years of sleeping on the couch, he has yet to meet Santa...

But Santa snitches a piece of pork each year as he fills the stockings! The girls have wondered if he gets burned when coming down the chimney. We've explained that Santa has other methods of entering the house.

My personal belief is that he apparates...you know, he is distantly related to that famous Dumbledore family. Have you noticed the family resemblance: long white beard, twinkle in the eyes, loves children, employs hundreds of house elves...? Santa uses reindeer instead of thestrals because they're less creepy. But clearly he is no muggle. He obviously uses a time turner to get the job done in one night, and I bet he makes use of an invisibility cloak through the year. (Otherwise the paparazzi would have had a field day!) But I digress...

So what are some of your favorite holiday foods?

Have a Happy Christmas, everyone!

Nutcracker Dreams

This post was inspired by K.Lawson Gilbert's poem "Jo"
Thanks, K!


When I was a girl I took dance lessons. Ballet, tap, jazz. The usual mix. But it was ballet that captured my heart, and "dancer" was one of the first roles added to my self identity.

I took lessons seriously and became competent enough to be invited to join the local company's production of The Nutcracker. As a result, some of my fondest Christmas memories are associated with practices and rehearsals. The Nutcracker Suite is now strongly associated with Christmas in my brain. Just hearing the first few notes of the overture instantly puts me in a "preparing for a holiday party" mood.



And just because this video is entrancing, here is a unique version:



My most special Christmas present ever was the nutcracker that my parents gave me at the end of the closing performance the first year that I danced in the Nutcracker. I spent hours in my room dancing with that wooden soldier as if I were Clara. I still get teary every year when I pull it out of the box where it spends most of the year nestled with my small collection of nutcrackers. I remember feeling disappointed that it had a screw mechanism to crack nuts instead of the usual lever, but now I am glad for its uniqueness.


For several years I danced with the Candy Canes, then I graduated to the Russian Trepak. Here I am, probably at dress rehearsal when Mom could make me pose for the Polaroid.

Hearing those parts of the Nutcracker Suite evokes visceral reactions and sensory memories. The sound of the orchestra, the hushed voices waiting in the wings, the smell of rosin, the swish of tutus as dancers hurried backstage for costume changes. Even today, when I hear the ending notes of the dance of the reed flutes (or "Mirlitons", which preceded the Candy Canes)-- I feel the fluttering in my stomach.

The first notes of the Candy Cane dance or Russian Trepak would sing, and I would be transported-- I was no longer me. My arms and legs knew when to flex, when to stretch. I gracefully moved through the choreography, barely aware of each step as it flowed into the next. Rather, I felt the warmth of the stage lights, noticed the brightness of the costumes blurring by, and of course heard the music which fed my muscles.

I was no longer me-- I was a dancer.

Single (the second in a series about relationship...)

(image from: uic.edu)


I'm finally adjusting to being single. Woo hoo!

Now, you can lower those raised eyebrows-- I'm not talking about my marital status! I'm talking about my sense of self. You see, unlike most people, I did not come into this world alone. I am a twin-- I have a twin brother. Since my first cell divided I have been with another. My first night sleeping outside the comfort of mom's womb, I was not alone. I was never just "me" in school-- I was "one of the twins" (kinda like "Seven of Nine"… ha!) So, it has shaped my sense of self in an unusual way.

When I first started dreaming of falling in love and getting married, I assumed that Mr. Right and I would have such a close bond that we would effortlessly know each other. I think my vision of a mate went beyond the typical best-friend and soulmate ideas, because I already knew what living as part of a pair entailed.

My brother and I were always together when playing. We helped each other throughout development. He made me laugh when I got frustrated. I pushed him around on a wheeled giraffe when I was first to walk. He fixed broken toys for me, I helped him with his homework. We often finished each other's sentences. And, to the frustration of my sisters, we frequently communicated nonverbally across the dinner table, laughing at unspoken jokes.

As we grew into the teenage years, we drifted apart, had different friends and different interests. I developed a strong, stable, healthy individual self. But my vision of a soulmate was already formed.

To make matters worse, I am an "Idealist" personality type. As Keirsey says in Please Understand Me II, Idealists are unique in their approach to mating. The other temperaments are realistic-- they assume their mates to be fallible. But Idealists look for "more than life partners in their mates-- they want soul partners, persons with whom they can bond in some special spiritual sense, sharing their complex inner lives and communicating intimately about what most concerns them: their feelings and their causes, their romantic fantasies and their ethical dilemmas, their inner division and their search for wholeness. Idealists firmly believe in such deep and meaningful relationships-- they will settle for nothing less-- and in some cases they try to create them where they don't exist." (Does this sound familiar those of you who are also Idealist types?)

Yep. That's what I did. But as I'm growing and experiencing life, I'm learning that such idealism does not lead to true intimacy. It can be taken too far. As much as an idealist would love to have a mate who fits their vision exactly, it is not reasonable or realistic. An idealist's vision of how things should be, can frustrate or even stifle others in their lives.

I've learned that for two to become one, they must first be two complete individuals. The early stages of a relationship feel like oneness, but that is fantasy. When a couple first falls in love they lower all internal boundaries and experience the feelings of merging with each other. Lovers often say that he/she "completes me". But this is not true oneness. True oneness can only develop over time. And the prerequisite is two complete people, each able to do all that relationship requires (according to Drs. Cloud and Townsend in Boundaries in Marriage ): give and receive love, be responsible, be independent and self-sufficient, live out values honestly, have self-confidence, deal with problems and failures, live out their talents, and have a life. My initial vision of a soulmate looked more like the merging of two incomplete people (very romantic, but not healthy!)

So, for the first time in my life I'm drawing boundaries around my "self" so that I can assess where I need to grow to become a more complete individual. It's exciting! I'm rediscovering the core of my self that is independent of any connections or relationships (a rather large task for me-- see part one). As I strengthen her, I will have more to give to others. And that is the basis for a true soulmate relationship!

My First Meme!

Now that I've become a real blogger, it's about time I do a meme (isn't it like a rite of passage for blogging, or something?). I stole this from Vesper-- you know her, that chick with a quill… (thanks, Vesper!)

The question is “Have you ever…?”

Bold the things you’ve done and will admit to.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity (not sure what counts here)
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea(I wasn't exactly offshore, but boating during a storm in the Chesapeake is scary enough to count, I think.)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping (does a hot tub count?)
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community (I'm not counting seeing them downtown shopping)
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted (sort of)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris (been there but couldn't go up)
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Gotten flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (Technically, Jason did the killing, but I've helped with the butchering, etc. And I have caught and filleted fish on my own...)
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

My Obsession (and Happy Halloween!)

(image from: OneBluePebble on Flickr)

Some of you know I have an obsession with Harry Potter. For those of you who didn't know-- now you do. Yes, I'm a 40 year-old (gulp) mom who loves the books more than my kids do. I hid my obsession for years because, well, I was embarrassed. It's not exactly the kind of thing I could talk about during the law firm events that Jason and I attend, or at formal charity balls in Philadelphia. (Though I found one attorney who also loves the books, and another attorney and his wife were surprised when I knew all about the Yule Ball/ Wizard Rock Concert that their daughter was attending that night...)

(here's some mood music...)



You see, I'm not just the average Potter fan. I didn't just enjoy the books and share them with my kids. I've read each book at least 7 times. My copy of Order of the Phoenix still has post-its riddling the pages from the months that I spent in an online reading group discussing the clues and literary devices that Jo used. And yes, I refer to the well-known author as she requested her fans to do-- as "Jo".

When my daughter was 4, my most proud "mommy moment" was when she pointed her finger at my mother-in-law and shouted "Silencio!" (My mother-in-law laughed after I explained what the spell did.) Here's a photo of the same daughter sporting her Dark Mark tattoo:



As many folks did, I attended the midnight release party for Deathly Hallows. But I drove home with tears in my eyes while clutching my copy, because it marked the end of an era. The next morning my deluxe copy was waiting in my mailbox (pre-ordered from Amazon the day it was available). And they now sit on my bookshelf next to the Bloomsbury "adult" version of Half-Blood Prince that I had shipped from the UK.

I not only signed up my kids and I to attend a Harry Potter conference that came to Philadelphia, I signed up within the first two weeks that the conference was announced (nine months early) because I browse fansites daily. And, I wasn't just an attendee. I volunteered to organize the opening and closing feasts and created and ran the Tri-Wizard Tournament. While there I was very proud of my oldest daughter who was chosen to compete (for our "House") in the Jeopardy-style trivia contest because she had the most questions correct on her qualifying quiz for her age group. And I was shocked when my name was announced as the adult contestant for our House! (No-- I didn't win, but I did get to meet the guys who run Mugglenet and their weekly podcast, Mugglecast!-- that's like meeting the Beatles to Harry Potter fans....)

So, now you understand why I call myself "obsessed."

The question is why. I was never the type to be such a fan. I didn't have a favorite rock group, movie, or celebrity when I was a teenager. There was no precedent for me to become obsessed over anything.

I was given the Harry Potter books for Christmas in 2003 (at the time only 5 had been published). Reading became an escape from my mommy duties ( the girls were ages 2 and 4). I quickly became swept up into the world of Hogwarts, and read all five within a month. Then I started to re-read them, because I wasn't ready to leave the wizarding world. I remember the day that I googled Harry Potter. I didn't know about "fandoms" or news blogs or fanfiction. Wow-- what I found online that day changed my life.

What draws me to the books is the warm characters, the universal themes, the humor and the darkness, the mysteries, the complexity of so many subplots woven together seamlessly, and last but not least, how the books celebrate motherhood. Yes, I've used many references from HP while parenting. What a great way to describe that gray area between good and evil: Dolores Umbridge. And how about explaining ethnic cleansing to an eight year old.... The sorting hat is a wonderful device to explain how we often categorize people but that unity makes us stronger. And Dumbledore provides many pearls of wisdom: "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities" (from Chamber of Secrets) and "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends" (from Sorcerer's Stone). Not to mention all of the fabulous Latin roots that are used for spells through the books!

I am tickled every time I hear that educators are using the books, from elementary to college-level. There were wonderful discussions at Enlightening led by scholars (most of the presenters had PhDs and many were Ivy League graduates): including "Harry Potter and the Denial of Due Process" (taught by a law professor), "Motherhood in the HP Canon", a class on psychological processes represented in the books, and a discussion about the global perspective : how HP engages people from diverse cultural and ethnic backgrounds. Several weeks ago I found this article (warning: it contains spoilers for anyone who hasn't read the books) about a freshman seminar being taught at Swarthmore College. The article also states:

"This is one of several "Harry Potter"-themed courses being taught on a collegiate level throughout the country — and not all of them are in English departments. Yale has one that uses "Harry Potter" as a prism for theology. Georgetown uses the story to look at international relations. Frostburg State University in Maryland employs the series to teach Physical Science 100. And more classes just keep popping up."

So, now I'm not so embarrassed by my obsession. I feel validated by others who aren't just reading the books to their children at bedtime.

And, I can now share with you that my first thought on Halloween morning will be "Happy Birthday, Harry!"

EDIT: D'oh! Janey brought to my attention that I must've lost my mind-- perhaps I can blame it on inhaling too much Lysol (see The Clarity of Night if you want to hear about the state of the Evans household....) Harry's birthday is July 31st, just like Jo's. Halloween is the day that Voldemort murdered his parents. So I'll just have a moment of silence for Lily and James.