All Over the Map

Today’s Fortune: “The soul is here for its own joy.” – Rumi

Today is Monday and I slept horribly last night, for reasons unknown to me. Just as I am all over the map in my actions, flitting from one half-finished chore to another, so goes my thoughts. Therefore this is going to be a “random thoughts, all over the map” day here, at Adulting – Second Half. Here is what is conjuring up in my wild and crazy, and very sleepy mind right now:

First Thought – If I am going to continue to be archaic and insist on using my Barnes and Noble hardback, paper desk diary, as my daily calendar, I must improve my handwriting. My handwriting has become barely legible. Further, I must stop writing “in code.” The reality is, I forget the code that I created almost immediately after I write the crazy, unidentifiable words/symbols/wtf? on my calendar, and I spend hours in puzzlement and bewilderment and anxiety, trying to understand what I am supposed to be doing. I then become my own version of Angela Lansbury, trying to decipher my own sloppily written, and not-so-very clever abbreviations, for the things that I must do in life, in a timely fashion. I must fix this problem. Stat.

Second Thought – I saw this quote on twitter made by a young woman who appears to be in her twenties: “Third wave feminism in not about empowering women, it’s about hating men, yelling in the streets, and on demand abortions. Traditional feminism is empowering. Third wave feminism is embarrassing.” Someone commented on her tweet with this comment: “Third wave feminism hurts women more than men. Men are afraid work with women now, afraid to be in the office with them, afraid to date them. Any man with a career he has worked hard for would be NUTS not to be terrified.”

I have walked this balance beam for a while now, raising both young men and a young woman, in this current divisive climate. I understand that sometimes it is necessary for the pendulum to swing far out in one direction, in order for healthy change to actually happen, but I do hope that it comes back to center soon. I think, as women, when we project anger and hatred and disappointment that we have about some “bad” men, on to every man who we meet and know, we are being completely unfair. Do we do that to other women in our lives, making every woman who we meet, feel bad about being a woman?? If a man is instantly disliked just for being a man, what makes us, as women, so likable and agreeable, to him? If a man’s experience is that every woman who he knows, are man-haters, one can see how he would start to deeply distrust women. Thus, he will project his learned hatred of women on to every woman who he knows. And thus, the cycle of inequality, mistrust and divide continues. I think that it is our responsibility as mothers, grandmothers, aunts, etc. to be strong, wise, healthy examples to both young men and to young women, and to raise up strong, confident, kind, capable, loving, self-respecting adults, who can discern for themselves who is toxic (no matter what that person’s sex may be), and to be brave enough and healthy enough to create strong values and boundaries, to protect and honor their own true selves. When they feel solid in self-love, they will share that healthy love and respect with the other men and other women in their lives, who deserve it.

Third Thought – My husband and my eldest son are currently reading the book called Empire of the Summer Moon, at the same time, so that they can discuss it when they are finished. The book is primarily about the history of the Comanche Native American tribe. Now the book sounds a bit too brutal for me to stick my nose into, but it did remind me of this scene from one of my favorite movies of all time. If you have never seen the movie, Hell or Highwater, put it on your watch list. The character development is excellent. It is one of those movies that you think about long, long after you have watched it. Here’s the scene:

Now, I must get back to more half-baked projects and to deciphering what I am really supposed to be doing today, that is, when I can figure out what the chicken scratch on my calendar really says. Have a great week, friends!

Did You Write That?

I miss handwriting.  I never wanted to be one of those old people who laments about the “good ol’ days”, but there are certain things that I wish could have a revival.  Handwriting is one of those lost arts that we don’t see too much of anymore.  It needs to be brought back.

What is more personal than handwriting?  It’s funny, but back when I was in school, we spent as much time learning handwriting as we did learning geometry.  It was always taught by the most anal-retentive, meticulous teacher in the school.  We all had the same practice books with the connect the dots configurations and yet, in the end, despite the hours and hours of “practice makes perfect”, none of our handwriting looks the same.  Handwriting is one of our own personal markers, almost like fingerprints.  When you get that rare card (never a letter anymore) in the snail mail, you usually know who it is from before you even open the card.  Even if the handwriting is awful and messy and hard to read, it is lovely, because it is a true personal stamp of a person you care about.

Today’s conversations are mostly done in digital form.  It makes sense. Email and texts are efficient, easy and convenient.  They are easy to read.  But none of that is nearly as personal as our own handwriting.  The emoticons and GIFs and many fonts are all somebody else’s creation, borrowed and apropos, but missing the element of “uniquely you.”

My handwriting has definitely gotten worse and less legible over the years.  I imagine that this is due to a combination of age and lack of use.  My husband always teases me about my vast collection of pens that I store like they are hurricane supplies.  I have an entire shelf devoted to beautiful stationery.  I delight in those chalkboard signs that cute eateries have where the employee with the prettiest handwriting has displayed the day’s menu highlights in a rainbow of chalk colors.   I think it is possible that handwriting is a lost art that will someday be featured in art galleries around the world.  I’ll buy a ticket to see that exhibition.  It will be wonderful!