One Step in Front of the Other

 

 

-9bcc6173bfec0f98.JPGWhen I was 10 years old I was allowed to walk on Haddonfield-Berlin Road, crossing highways entrances and exits to go to The Woodcrest Shopping Center. For a short time they had The Jerry Lewis Movie Theater, and I could get in for 50 cents, the amount of my allowances after chores. Or, I would go to W.T. Grant’s, deemed a twenty-five cent department store, but more of a five and dime. that sold colorful birds, toys, clothes, plastic jewelry, and featured a lunch counter. I was much too shy to go to the counter alone. But I loved getting lost in the aisles ending up with some sort of sweet. There was also Crest Lanes where I could bowl. I loved the crack of the pins being hit, and the overhead light of the score pad. In the other direction I would walk to The Haddontown Swim Club. It was lovely after a hot August walk to reach the pool and jump in to the cold splash of wet relief. These were some of my first destination walks.

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I would get upset that my mom didn’t drive me places, but with four children and a house to run, driving me to and from a destination that was just over a mile away, was not to be. What upset me then, actually provided me with a pleasure I’ve enjoyed throughout my life. I’ve lived in Manhattan for over 35 years, and a destination walk remains one of my favorite activities.

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Some of my best visits with friends have been walking to work with them, or going to a movie theater in another neighborhood. Films may not be fifty cents anymore, but the destination is still as satisfying. I love going to various farmer’s markets, or to a specialty stationary store. I walk to museums, or parks. Last week I took the subway just to walk in parks in other parts of the city. The destination is more often than not, motivation, but the walk is the true treat.

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Although I love city walks, and will make sure I go on foot when I visit other cities, walking in the woods, or taking a hike is equally as pleasurable. In these hectic times, walking has been wonderful for stress, it’s been reliable transportation, it’s been an education, and it’s been a gift.

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Grief Shaming

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Last week on Facebook I had changed my profile picture to one with a transparent French Flag on top of my face. When I was in college I had gone to school in Paris one summer studying Art History and French. The art history stayed with me, the French, not so much. It was a seminal summer for me. Memories surged after the bombings and I responded based on my relationship to my past and those in my present. Yet, shortly after that, so many people started writing pieces or making comments about how wrong it was to change our profile pictures when so many more had been tortured and killed in Damascus, Beirut, Jerusalem, Sierra Leone….. And the shaming began.

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I would much rather see a way in which we can educate and inform rather than tell one another that what has moved us isn’t good enough, or is racist or wrong. We’re all served well to learn more. But nothing is accomplished when we’re shamed into feeling bad about what matters to us.

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The irony is that often it’s in an attempt to create tolerance. Instead it creates a rift. “My way of seeing the problem is better than what you’re doing,” is the implication. And, though we see it online, we also hear it in our lives. There are so many times that clients will tell me that they’ve been criticized for the manner in which they’ve mourned a loss. If someone is relieved that a parent has died, they are considered cold-hearted. Alternatively, people who mourn for a year or two are asked when they’ll get over it. If someone loses a dear pet, eyes roll.   Why are we so dismissive of how others handle loss? And, what have we lost as a result of that?

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Paris Burning

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As I pondered what to write I heard about the terrorist attacks, as we all had.   It’s so sad and tragic. What more can be said? It’s hard to imagine the mentality that focuses so hard to harm so many people in Paris, in Syria and throughout the world.

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The one thing that did come from the Paris terrorist attacks is that we are not thinking of terrorism as something that takes place in far-off places. So many of us have a connection to and have been to Paris. We can no longer be limited to the belief that terrorism is only in Israel, or Iraq, or other Middle Eastern or foreign lands.

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Throughout my life I heard and repeated, “Peace on Earth.” And when I was a child we would sing the song, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” What exactly has that meant? In theory I want that. I know we all want that. And, yet, there has been more hate and violence towards one another. I marvel at the Buddhist monks whose job it is to pray daily for world peace. They are trained not to become attached to the outcome, but to identify with their lives’ purpose – Peace on Earth.

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I know kindness is an important component if we are to have peace. I know compassion is also key. What can I do to expand those in my life? Is it as simple as being less snarky if I don’t like something or someone? Perhaps I can have more patience instead of jump to anger and self-righteousness when I come upon two mothers in double-wide strollers talking while passers-by struggle to get around them. Would that help?

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I don’t see how that would end police brutality, or terrorism, or other hate crimes. I could read up more. Try to understand what ISIS is demanding. Find out the roots of the movement and feel compassion for the conditions that would spawn such a movement. It might help me converse better, but would it help to bring world peace? As I think about how we can make a difference, I am stuck. On the one hand I think small, seemingly insignificant acts of kindness always make a difference. Smile at a stranger, help keep the door open for the person behind. But, then I think how naïve that is.

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Large acts might be more useful, but the fight on terror has resulted in more terrorism. Sending money to various causes make us feel better, but does it actually do the work we intend? World-wide negotiations haven’t been effective with ISIS and other terrorist groups. I know I’m not alone in feeling powerless. And, in many ways the acts of terrorism speak of the terrorists’ powerlessness, or they wouldn’t feel compelled to murder and hurt others as a communication device.

I will continue to explore ways in which I can be part of a peaceful world. Perhaps if we all just do our best to do better in our own lives we will, in fact, do better as a whole.

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To World Peace.