mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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Smart Phone Life
September 21, 2013
— 5 Comments
I am afraid of the mix of media and social media consumed by the population in 2013. There are distractions of all shapes and sizes. Being over busy overbooked and overly self centered is a modern sign of success. Emotional wellbeing of average people has been sinking while stability slips out of sight. The youth will use technology in ways that are modeled by the adults they see. When parents and other adults lead the way to digital detox younger people may also consider life outside the smartphone.
I think the point Louis C.K. makes in this video about emotional range of motion is key. His claim that smartphone distraction is avoidance of fully feeling sadness or happiness in favor of a phone buzz strikes me as a valid observation. It is impossible to be engaged in meditation and smart phone love at the same time. Some feel the attachment to the full time companion, Phoney, is destroying social skills. I agree, but the strongest argument for limiting time and energy with Phoney is productivity. Phoney is there to procrastinate with you, to deny reality and to take you away from all the pending doom. It can never make you feel truly happy, but it does kill time.
Digital detox has entered the dictionary and folks are in treatment for FOMO ( fear of missing out). This is perhaps the most ironic of all conditions…to abandon real life with no fear of missing reality in favor of never missing out on the ability to respond to a phone. Do you know anyone who is in need of intervention for this tragic ailment? I do, but would not know where or how to begin.
Recipe for Nostalgia
August 29, 2013
— 8 Comments
Take one elementary school class, add 49 years. Shake; don’t stir. Meet in the building where you attended elementary school and Jr. high, and sip slowly.
I study history, but my own personal past has not been investigated. I only have so much time to find all the facts about my ancestors, so biographical content has never crossed my mind. This week I am digging into it. I am on a quest to remember/discover my childhood, which was pretty idyllic. I grew up walking a block and a half to my school, playing in giant gangs of kids in my neighborhood. We went to swimming pools at country clubs in the summer, but we had a neighborhood of full time sports (wiffle ball) , games, dramatic productions, and parties..not unlike Spanky and Our Gang, I looked at the hill in my old side yard where we went sledding. It is much smaller that I could have imagined.. the entire yard has shrunk. It doesn’t look like it would hold big games of red rover, but I know that it did. I also had an archery target and a basketball backboard in the back yard. The prop we used most often was the player piano.
Both my next door neighbors and our family had player pianos in the basement. Our basement playroom was huge with the piano and a big bar. My parents partied heavily down there. Most of the time it was used for my piano practice or my play room. My mom supplied a giant box of dress up clothing of all kinds behind the bar in the laundry room. The kids would put on shows for each other, and sometimes for the parents, by dressing in the costumes and singing. The parents sat down at a lower level in the yard, and we would enter from stage right, behind the house. We had sort of an Ed Sullivan variety approach, with someone announcing the acts. One of our favorites (and very popular with the adults) was “Heart of My Heart”. We had a pantomime that was very corny. We did it all the time, so I can still do it after more than 50 years. I called my childhood neighbor, Peggy Jo, and sang it to her on the phone. It made me cry because the song sums up the whole deal. “Friends were dearer then”
Leaving Oakmont
June 30, 2013
— 7 Comments
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- 1963 San Tomé
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- not in Pittsburgh any more
I spent my school career through the 8th grade in the small town of Oakmont, PA, a suburb of Pittsburgh. This tiny, close knit (nosey) community was about the Oakmont Country Club and Edgewater Steel, and some other stuff. For kids it was paradise with millionaire robber baron neighbors providing lavish recreational opportunities. My parents were Republicans who disliked JFK and did not play golf. On one hand they were non conformist, and on the other, very concerned with image. I had a running battle with my mother for my entire grade school career about bangs, permanent waves, and white socks. These symbols of culture and control were so important to my mother that my wishes were never considered. She stuck my hair in the sink and put stinky stuff and curlers in it against my will, and with loud protest. She always cut my bangs off, mullet style. The most important symbol to Ruby Morse was the little girl’s need to wear white anklet socks. This was truly the most hated of all conditions, the white sock purgatory. Ruby Morse believed that wearing stockings was a sign of loose morals. I believed she inflicted the white socks as a crazed statement of micro management. We had deep, basic irreconcilable fashion differences.
Management of any kind was about to fly out the window when the family moved to San Tomé, Venezuela in 1963. My father became the general manager for Mene Grande ( Gulf Oil) for eastern Venezuela. This meant that I lived in a big house with servants and my father was the boss of everyone in the town where I lived. My teachers in school worked for my father, as did all my friends’ parents. Strangers constantly gave me lovely gifts, and it was obviously too hot to wear white socks. I was the lucky imperialist 13-year-old with everything. I lived in a remote place so radio was a lot less available than it had been in Pittsburgh. The strongest reliable signal came from Radio Havana. Fidel would hold forth for hours and then they played some music. Live music was everywhere. I had a harp serenade at my window by a guy who wrote the song for me. This could not have happened in Pennsylvania. Although San Tomé had a golf course, there was no other commonality with Oakmont, PA. Nothing could have been more drastic, really. I loved it, but when given the chance to choose where I would go abroad for 10th grade, I chose PA because I still thought of it as my US home. I have not visited Oakmont since 1964.
I will return to Oakmont to see some of my school friends in a couple of months. We have all traveled different paths, but mine diverged drastically and forever. I am bringing back memories and enjoying the stories that my classmates remember. Some scenes are vivid as I think of them, and some are gone. I hardly remember any of the parents. Our personalities are in tact, from what I can detect on our Facebook page. We will go and physically be in the building where we went to elementary grades together. I think it will be amazing..our own versions of what we remember. I look forward to it with great anticipation.
Build a Positive Team and Family Spirit
June 29, 2013
— 2 Comments
Zappos Headquarters
The 7th core value at Zappos is about team building. The social fabric of the Zappos team is strong and purposely flexible. Diversity is encouraged; self expression is made mandatory; teams tackle problems in groups. The jolly team spirit is evident in the work environment at Zappos headquarters. I think it is closer to being the happiest place on earth than Disneyland is..but that is not saying much. Family in the workplace means shared responsibility as well as camaraderie.
My specialty is teaching swimming. In order to teach the skill an environment of trust must exist. This week I had the pleasure of teaching two young ladies who are friends. They have a big age difference but get along well as friends. The right atmosphere brings out the best in everyone. The girls worked hard each day in lessons, and at the end of the week, they had their little doll family on the steps with them for a swimming lesson. They had become the teachers, inspiring the dolls with their confidence. This is how the positive team and family spirit works. It is contagious, and uplifting for everyone. Cooperation and inspiration are natural partners in business.
Music, A Family Tradition
May 14, 2013
— 2 Comments
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- Kripalu
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- radiance
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- with dad
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- with harmonium
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- with student
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- parting with group
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- mom and daughter
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- turbans
Music is part of many spiritual practices and worship ceremonies. Musical exposure at an early age is a gift. If parents appreciate and play music for a child, singing and dance will be a natural part of life. In my household folk music and piano rolls were always being played and sung during my childhood. I played classical music on the piano, but I absorbed American and English folk music from my parents, who invited friends over to play and sing music. The Moore-Khalsa home is full of musical talent and knowledge, but of a different sort. They are more meditative and prayerful ,kind of musical monks. They harmonize well together, making a joyful noise.
We were given an added treat during the Thomas Moore weekend at Kripalu recently. His wife and daughter gave a special evening program on Saturday night. The Kundalini yoga session was directed by Hari Kirin Kaur Khalsa, Tom’s wife. The musical accompaniment was done by their daughter , Ajeet Kaur, and her band. I sat myself right next to the musicians for max vibrations during the demonstration. Drum, guitar and harmonium formed the instrumental background for chants. Sanskrit mantras were used. These chants have specific meaning and results when repeated. One specific breathing and mantra round was taught to combat insomnia. I sleep well normally, but had a profoundly deep sleep that night. I felt the results of the chanting and movement in my body and mind. Ajeet’s clear sweet voice carried the group into focused concentration. The twin brothers who played guitar and drum were also accomplished and well rehearsed in this music. The total package was a pleasant and instructive voyage into the technique of Kundalini yoga. The people in our class all reported a positive experience. It was fun to be included as her talented parents encourage her musical career by working with her. She has recorded a CD with her band and is setting out to soothe the planet with her musical talent. Our group was lucky to meet her as she sets out on this adventure.
Art and Practice
April 4, 2013
This month many writers are writing a poem a day in NaPoWriMo..the poetry challenge. I am accomplished in a few expressive ways, but I have not visited my poet for years. I was a prolific song writer as a teenager, and wrote poetry every day of some kind. I am a language fan, loving words because they sound funny or because they have obscure specific meanings. Being poetic, or even doing rhymes as improvisational humor, sharpens the wit, grows the vocabulary and enhances connections and metaphoric images.
When I was young I heard my father recite the Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert W Service. He knew it by heart. After a couple of drinks he liked to sing, dance or recite that poem. It was always entertaining. He was a research scientist by profession, but my parents loved music and dance more than anything. We had a player piano which was the scene of many sing a long parties. What was truly admirable about my parents was their artistry. They had regular suburban lives, but my dad was an accomplished musician, and my mother designed and executed both landscape environments and fashion with amazing professionalism. My mother was a prize-winning floral arranger, and avid flower show horticulturist.
I was encouraged , and in some cases forced, to practice art. Piano was a mandatory 30 minutes every day of my life, and a legal pad sheet of cursive handwriting had to be inspected by my father each night. I eventually realized I could recycle some of the handwriting, but there was no faking the piano. My guitar and voice lessons came with mandatory practice sessions when I was in high school. I learned the power of practice at a very young age. Discipline is never natural to kids and maybe my parents overdid the whole rigidity thing. Today, however, I thank Dick and Ruby Morse, the living artists, who gave me the self confidence to know that I can be any kind of artist I care to be. My art will reflect my practice, and with practice I will improve. All poems, all songs, all dances are alive and need to be brought forth. Practice is the vehicle in which they travel into the light.
Retired Cowgirl, Sandra Day O’Connor on iCivics
March 7, 2013
— 2 Comments
My hero was interviewed by PBS’s Charlie Rose tonight. Sandra Day O’Connor was feisty, and classy and well spoken. Yesterday she was on NPR radio, making the publicity rounds. She is promoting her new book, Out of Order and her project, iCivics. She points out that we have public education to teach the students to be good citizens, but there is no longer civics instruction in public school. Her humility is as impressive as her continued public service. She does refer to herself as a retired cowgirl, which is typical of her style. Her mission to keep the government of the people, for the people, and by the people from perishing from this earth is a Supreme gift to the American people of the future.
I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found
February 28, 2013
— 1 Comment
Handicrafts Club
I have been found by a group of people I would never have guessed were looking for me. My classmates from elementary and junior high have tracked me down to invite me to the reunion of the graduation I would have had with them had I not moved. I am blown away in many ways. First, I always admire good detective work. Second, I am touched and pleased and thrilled to be remembered for so long. Third, in am in flashback mode, laughing hysterically. Stories and pictures have been produced that take me back to Oakmont, PA in the 1950’s and early 1960’s. These were very fun, if somewhat unfashionable, times. In the above picture I am in the front row with jazz hands crossed on lap at the left end. Nobody remembers what kind of handicrafts we made. Another sexist ploy like home ec, where I received the one and only D of my academic career for stabbing the seam ripper through the pocket of my apron sewing project. Mrs. Gallashun, you can shove your apron….because I still have it for some perverse reason.
Jr high cheerleaders
In the photo above I am seated in my Oaks sweater, which was green and white. I am third from the left, leaning conspicuously to the left in some body language clue about my feelings about my fellow cheerleaders. This one is very funny to me because it brings on total recall of the games and the cheers and getting my collar bone broken playing tackle football with the high school boys when my parents were out of town. In fact it brings back floods of nostalgia and appreciation for the really excellent place we had to live as kids. We had Roberto Clemente, and life was very easy.
These are the people with whom I built snow forts, went sledding, ice skated, sang, baton twirled, and played dodge ball. These are the people who taught me to speak with a very heavy accent I no longer have, but do enjoy hearing. I am into the Amish Mafia on TV because I like to hear them talk. I can’t believe they have changed so much, but still sound the same. The Oakmonters are having a party which includes a tour of the high school, which happens to be the same building where I went to elementary school, two blocks from my house. I think I have to go. I think the past is calling loudly, and I have to answer. It is just too funny.
Mini Time Machine in Tucson
January 2, 2013
— 1 Comment
Mini Time Machine
enjoying exhibit
Santa on the roof
bedroom doll house
Antique music box
Santa rides
Santa naps at home
courtyard
relief minis
enchanted land
My neighborhood in Tucson contains one of my favorite museums of all time. I have been to a specialty miniature museum in Basel Switzerland several times that is elaborate. To have a high quality specialty museum with changing exhibits near my home is priceless to me. A visit to the Mini Time Machine is a blast for all ages. The detail and concentration involved in creating these tiny items will blow anyone’s mind. The more you look the more you see. All the exhibits are completely childproof, and the museum provide stools that kids can carry that will lift them up to eye level at the displays. I have been there for a museum fund raising party which was incredibly fun. They do make arrangements for private parties as well.
Man in Black, Down Home for Christmas
December 19, 2012
— 1 Comment
For those of you who missed the man in black during his lifetime, he left a legacy of charism. You can have your Perry Como Christmas Special and the June Taylor Dancers, no offense intended. Johnny Cash is America’s Prophet. He married into our most authentic folk music lineage when he and June Carter were hotter than a pepper sprout. She stood by her man through some very difficult times. Together they produced a body of work to lift and enlighten everyone who listens. This, gentle readers, is my curated holiday special gift to you. Thanks so much for visiting my blog and helping me find my voice. May the love be with you this solstice season.
