Eat, Pray, Love, Cover Your Ears

Don't get me wrong. I loved the book. Okay, I loved it and at times wanted to yell "Over-writing, over-writing!" But Gilbert's freewheeling word play that ran off the rails at times only endeared her to me in the end. She's the kind of passionate, self-examining, self-deprecating, self-inflating person I recognize! Her "quest philosophy" (read it) is genius—the best stuff in the book. I came away open to the whole world again, ready to trust my life and process while staying alert to my journey (not wishing it away).

I read the book in January 2008, before I had even a hint that I'd wind up scarlet branded with the letter D in my not-so-distant future. I heard Elizabeth speak at UCLA with Anne Lamott in March of the same year... the epic journey through California that began the inner-unraveling.

The film came at an interesting time. I'm in a different place and related to different pieces of Liz's story than I did on the first pass through. What I noted, though, that is sticking with me (and not especially comfortably) is just how dominant the male voices were in her story! Let me count them:

1. Ketut: The prophecy that led Liz on her year-long, world-traveling journey began with a prophecy from a medicine man in Bali. Yes, he was toothless and old, adorable and addled, yet he gives her a palm reading that becomes the guide to her future. 
2. Her husband: He told her what to think, how their lives should be, what he wanted that was not what she wanted. It made her feel guilty to leave him because he was unhappy (he did not seem to have any guilt over his making her unhappy!). Her husband sat across from her at the negotiation table and told her he wouldn't grant her a divorce! That's how deaf he was to Liz's voice. He thought he could require her to stay married to him!
3. Her boyfriend: David was a trip. This man lived his life in accordance with a female guru from India. Liz adopted his guru, adopted his lifestyle, adopted his values... and slowly disappeared into him. Her eventual journey to India was inspired by the hand-me-down guru she adopted during her torrid love affair with David.
4. Her language partner: In Italy, we're immediately treated to some of the best looking male specimens on the planet. Just sayin'. Italian men have it going on. Liz's primary partner in language is a good-looking, gentle god of a guy. She has to fight her primal sex urges in order to mimic his accent.
5. Richard from Texas: Just when you think Liz will get a break from all these tempting men by going to an ashram in India dedicated to a female guru, Liz becomes friends with Richard from Texas. The guru, in a twist of irony, is not in residence having taken a trip to New York, where Liz came from! (Perhaps a "Wizard of Oz" lesson underlying; there's no place like home, or, what you seek is already within you.) In any case, Richard is confrontational with his "bumper sticker" wisdom. Liz, like a polite woman would, attempts to deflect Richard's earliest attempts to "teach her," but eventually yields to his tactics once she's aware that he is suffering too. Truly, I like Richard in the book and loved the actor in the film... but upon further reflection, I have to admit it makes me uncomfortable how easily men tell women what to think, how to feel, what to know, how to recover, what to learn, how to love, what to do, how to live. What's up with that? I am trying to think of a time when I've seen on the big screen some man being "bullied for your own good" by a woman's unrelenting "wisdom" until he finally yields to it because he saw "who she really is." Help me out - is there such a film/story anywhere? I'm so sick of it!
6. Ketut (again): He hardly remembers Liz when she returns to Bali. But once he does, Liz happily trusts his account of her future, yet again.
7. Felipe: And here's where I wanted to claw my eyes out. In the book, I wasn't a huge fan of his either, but at least he seemed genuinely kind to Liz (and is eventually the man she marries in real life). The movie, though, took his personality to a place I will no longer tolerate in my real life. As Liz is having an emotional melt-down about love and being whisked off into a future without her express consent, Felipe yells at her! He tells her who she is, what her real feelings are (amazingly, he assumes they are just like his!), he tells her how to get over them, he attempts to intimidate her into cooperation with his "romantic" plan! Ay-yi-yi-yi! What is up with this whole "men use force to get women to do what they 'really' want" thing? Why do we think that is romantic, beneficial, respectful or even remotely justified? Why did the screenplay writers feel the need to inject that dysfunction into the relationship... as though that is a model for how to find true love? Gag me with a waxy plantain leaf!

I saw it all plainly. Men feel utterly comfortable dictating advice, stating their goals, passing on their experience and wisdom, all while women go on long journeys and quests away from them to figure out what they want... and then they wind up wanting men! It's just crazy!!!

I cannot picture a man going on a world tour to get over a broken heart, listening to women read their palms and guide their futures through folksy wisdom or forceful "buck up and do what I tell you because I'm right" kind of language. Not one man would go to see that movie.

Yet women are constantly bombarded with male voices. Our western gods are male, our presidents in America are male, the vast majority of our pastors are male (in some churches, they all are!), our business leaders and school principals: male. I had a Sue Monk Kidd moment last night when I got home—Arggggghhhhhh! Get me out of this male-dominated, overly verbal masculine world! How can woman even hear herself think, let alone come to any insight that would be truly suited to her while men won't shut up!

Before I offend the loyal male readers of this blog, let me say this. One of the hardest parts of being female is hearing your "inside yourself" voice. Male voices drown us out much of the time and we consent because we have been trained to listen politely, to not pass judgment, to trust an authority (male=authority), to seek protection, to accommodate those in power over pleasing ourselves. In fact, women are so used to this condition, if you have a group of women chatting away together and you add a man to it, the man will become the focal point and the majority of women will literally stop talking. 

I can think of so many dinner parties where I was happily chatting away with my girlfriends until the husbands joined us. Then—poof! The women go silent and the men take over. It's uncanny.

The best thing males can do to right this ship is to listen. I don't mean the kind of listening that therapists suggest on couches to couples. I don't mean "active listening" where you try to repeat back what you heard. I mean, actually listening—to the confusion, to the tentative attempts to protect self, to the hopelessness, to the anxiety, to the "good ideas," to the disillusionment... all while doing nothing with it.

Nothing looks like: compassionate eyes, interest, hugs, an occasional (brief!) affirmation of the woman's inherent powers to find her own solutions that work for her. Nothing looks like fewer words and more nods, a willingness to watch her fail and make poor judgments, encouragement to keep going on her own path and resisting the temptation to rescue her from herself and others.

Nothing means not interfering, not trumping, not denigrating, not expecting a different outcome, not asking for compromise, not coercing through disappointment, anger, reason or relentless logic.

Nothing means accepting her report of her own experience without minimizing it, without discounting it, without reinterpreting it, without taking it personally.

But women, know that men aren't going to "do it for us." We have to be willing to walk away from relationships, to tell the men we lean on to be quiet. We have to seek spaces that let our minds wander. We have to trust the inkling of internal wisdom and risk everything on it! We can't expect a man to bail us out or help us. We have to know that the end of the road is inside (not in a man's paycheck, his size, his superior position, his intelligence, his romance, his validation, or even the idea that he is endowed with greater authority).

When I wrote "it's all on you" last time, one of the underlying messages I wanted to convey is this: When we delegate the authority over our lives to a "higher absolute"—saying it exists apart from us (particularly as women), we develop a habit of second-guessing ourselves that can become pathological. We start from a place of distrust of self.

When we recognize that it was our own insight and reasoning skills that empowered those beliefs to start, we open ourselves to confident inner knowing (we esteem our ability to seek the good, to find the good and to live according to the good). That's my goal for me, for my daughters... and yes, for the lovely men in my life too.

May the sexes go forth and support each other!

These are my musings on a Monday morning. Your mileage may vary.

In honor of John Hughes and Ferris Bueller's Day Off

I found this wonderful retelling of the whole movie tonight, written by an Aussie. What a refreshing perspective on life! Loved that movie. In our Brave Writer film discussion class, a whole slew of teens led by our intrepid Susanne Barrett, discussed this film in depth (of course, it happens to be her favorite film of all time—natch). Strange timing with Hughes' passing (RIP).

Ferris Bueller's Day Off Redux

Dobson steps down: How I will remember him

Dr. James Dobson (72 years old) announced yesterday that he's stepping down as chairman of Focus on the Family. In an odd twist of fate, my 12 year old daughter asked me about him just yesterday, based on charges made against him in a book she's reading about feminism. To her, his name had become synonymous with repression of women and obstruction of justice for reproductive rights. When I explained that he was the founder of Focus on the Family, she squinted her eyes.

Isn't Focus on the Family that group opposed to gay marriage?

"Yes, it is," I told her.

I saw her wheels turn.

So Dr. Dobson and Focus on the Family go together?

"Yes they do," I said.

She paused and suddenly her eyes lit up in surprise at her own thoughts: Mom, do you mean to say that Dr. Dobson and Focus on the Family are the same people who created the Odyssey tapes?

When I said yes, a look of utter astonishment passed over her face. Caitrin's first brush with complexity. How can the tapes she loved as a child come from a group she's supposed to oppose?

She asked me, "How is that possible?" I was happy to explain. After all, back when Jon and I lived in a tiny condo, having as many kids as the Lord would give us, on one income, while homeschooling, Focus on the Family's daily radio broadcast featuring Dr. Dobson (hosted by Mike Trout) filled the airwaves of my kitchen every single morning with laughter, good advice, companionship in my lonely task. We didn't have the Internet back then. Getting out to a library was a herculean effort for a young mother of three, four, five kids. Radio was a savior - a way to connect to ideas and resources in my own family room.

For ten years, I listened to Dobson's daily program and got much support and help in my tasks as a stay-at-home mom. I heard programs on homeschooling, Creative Memories photo albums, how to handle toddlers, ways to find joy in ordinary life, tips for keeping your marriage healthy, how to live on one income, decorating for Christmas on a budget, dealing with in-laws, recovering from an abusive childhood. I heard lectures given by some of the biggest Christian writers and speakers all without having to leave home to go to a big conference in another city. I felt encouraged in my daily life: I could do this, it wasn't too hard, I could be close to my children and keep my family together.

Despite the controversy over Dr. Dobson's approach to discipline (to spank or not to spank), I found him consistently on the side of the child when he'd unfold his real actions on behalf of children. I remember one time reading that he had hardly ever spanked his own two children at all. His motto that has guided me for my entire 21 years of parenting is to "get behind the eyes of the child" before you make any discipline decisions. He went on to say that if you can see the world the way the child sees it, you'll know whether or not you are dealing with a strong will or simple childishness. So while Dobson is known for the wooden spoon (and believe me, I condemn that thing and all its various incarnations, used by parents with far less compassion, empathic imagination and emotional insight than James Dobson), in my experience, he was the voice that reminded me again and again to understand and know my children, to build their self-esteem.

There was a point at which I remember thinking that if he died, I'd fly to Colorado Springs to be at his funeral. His presence in my life had become so crucial, I knew I'd want to grieve his passing with fellow fans.

I've loved Dr. Dobson.

Unfortunately, that love of the man slowly ebbed over the last decade and has turned to a loss of respect. While doling out distinctly Christian advice about families (and really, I didn't take too well to the messages on submission and headship at all), Dobson became enamored of the political process and the possibility of shaping policy through the muscle he'd developed in the family ministry. I was on board for the anti-abortion agenda, but I've never supported his position on gay marriage or prayer in the schools. Yet the courting of morally questionable Republicans (whose own families were hardly models of the kind of health and spirituality Focus intended to cultivate) and his increasingly shrill reaction to those in opposition made me withdraw support from Focus on the Family.

The nail in the coffin for me came when Mike Trout confessed to an emotional affair. It wasn't his affair that drove me away, but rather how Focus handled it. I have loved Mike Trout's participation on the radio show. It occurred to me that if Mike couldn't be rehabilitated by Focus on the Family, what hope was there for the rest of us? What pathway to healing and restoration is there if failure means being expunged?

So I shared some of this with Caitrin, as she tried to put together the picture she'd gleaned from her book with the one I expressed from my heart. She loved the Odyssey tape series and realized that there is more to the story of Focus on the Family than "Dobson=evil for women and gays." Though admittedly, I oppose their agenda openly now.

It doesn't surprise me that Dr. Dobson is both stepping down as the leader, while continuing the radio program. The trouble is, Dobson doesn't speak at all for the Gen X'ers. He doesn't speak to the Millenials. His fans are my age and older. Focus on the Family, the organization so large with so much mail that it has its own zip code, may be riding off into a Rocky Mountain sunset. It may, in fact, be time.

President 44

Check this out. Beautiful!

By illustrator Patrick Moberg.

I've got a gurl-crush on Rachel Maddow

Rachel says what she thinks, which is not all that unusual for political journalists on TV, on the radio. But what makes her special is that she is smart! She's got the vocab (post-rational - lol), and the insistent rapidity of a canny debater to steam roll a guy like Pat Buchanan without breaking a sweat or blushing. She's not blonde, not a beauty pageant queen turned info-babe (as Rush degradingly calls them). She's tough, talented, and a self-proclaimed liberal.

Her portfolio of activities prior to journalism shows a consistent idealism backed with self-sacrificing action. Even if you don't like her politics, it's hard to dismiss her on the grounds of "not caring, just wanting the lime light." This is a woman who commits and acts.

The WaPo took the time to feature her background as she prepares for her own MSNBC show that launches in two weeks. I heart her. Love her dark hair, her un-lipsticked mouth, her sassy rejoinders and her opinions. What's not to love?

This is a great article if you haven't read it.

"I know I don't look like everybody else on television," MSNBC's newest host says at a Mexican restaurant here. "I'm not that pretty. Women on television are over-the-top, beauty-pageant gorgeous. That's not the grounds on which I am competing. There's a basic threshold you have to cross: not looking like you're insulting. You ought to wear makeup, comb your hair." And if she tried for a makeover, she says, "I would fail, and I would look dumb doing it."

Liam and Linkin Park

I wasn't the only parent attending this concert with a teen (or younger kid!). But I might have been the only parent who knew the lyrics to all the songs, jumped up and down (which is not a risk-free proposition for a mother who's given birth five times) and devil horns'ed Chester and Mike.

I don't know what it is about Linkin Park, but I love that band. Their sound is original for rock, Chester and Mike trade off so easily and with what appears to be genuine respect for what each one brings to the table. Their lyrics accurately (painfully) depict the inner world of a teen misunderstood by a parent (a dad!) or a lover or a friend.

Pathos combined with trademark screams, DJ, drums, killer guitars... such an emotional concert. Cathartic.

Chester Bennington exerts relentless energy on the stage (akin to a young Bono - there I said it!). He doesn't waste vocal chords or time talking to the audience about getting drunk or smoking weed (like the "still not prime time" bands that went before LP). He puts everything (rippling muscles, voice, soul and tattoos) into each lyric. I have no idea how he sustains the melodic, tuneful part of his voice when he gives each scream the maximum "nails on the blackboard" screech that lasts as long as Michael Phelps under water after a turn. Some people are born to perform. Chester is one of them.

The combination of lights (awesome light show), intensity of performance, the tight band which never missed a note, chord change or drum beat, and the natural, friendly interplay between the two front men make Linkin Park a likely candidate to be one of those "great bands" we all feel glad to have seen in the early years. I told Liam that when he's in his thirties, I fully expect him to take one of his kids to see LP and he'll be saying he saw them when they only had three-ish albums to draw from.

I left exhausted... in the happiest way. Liam and I hugged, sang, shouted, jumped, and hugged again. Nothing but exhilaration. And further proof that I'm just not indie at core. Give me rock... but make it fresh.

Set list to come.

Chris Botti... sexy as hell

Girlfriend music. That's what it is. Last night in Kettering ("The middle of nowhere in Ohio," as Botti put it), Chris Botti's trumpet soared. He lubricated the crowd with compliments, telling us that while he had played Carnegie Hall two nights ago and Montreal the night before, The Fraze outside of Dayton is his favorite touring venue.

Despite threatening clouds, the weather held, including some refreshing breezes perfectly timed for those moments when women wanted to lean into their dates a little closer. Botti isn't just a great jazz trumpet player either. Turns out he's quite the story teller. He treated us to the history of Miles Davis's "Kind of Blue" album before playing one of the songs, he talked about Leonard Cohen before playing "Hallelujah," the theme song from Shrek 1. He thanked the pope for the royalties he's drawing off his current hit from new CD "Italia": Ave Maria (the opener).

Botti joked with the audience freely, seemed perfectly at ease and humble about his recent success. He stood aside for lengthy solos by his ridiculously competent band members. Botti told us that Google brought he and his drummer together. His sole goal at the time was to find a drummer "good enough to piss Sting off" since they were touring together. Apparently, he succeeded. This drummer isn't just skilled, he has a drummer's wit, leading the audience along with quiet, patient beats and then suddenly speeding up, throwing a stick, twirling them. A real showman.

Botti sported a shiny brown blazer and dark jeans. Lights were kind to him. He calls himself "the palest guy to ever play jazz trumpet." His blue eyes glow.

The whole evening felt like a short trip to Italy, in fact, from cabernet to his rendition of the theme to "Cinema Paradiso." His trumpet-playing has this purity in sound, both soft and powerful, clear and resonant, emotional. So beautiful! Who knew trumpets could be so sensual? Ahhhh.

The Best I Ever Had

I never post song lyrics and embedded YouTubes as I usually skip all YouTubes on other people's blogs (unless they include Bono or Obama). Within the last couple weeks, though, I've been listening a lot to Vertical Horizon's "Everything that You Want" CD. I went for a run earlier, hooked up to my iPod, and I loved this song today. Longing, love, emotional angst... the mid-twenties male vocalist. :)

This particular YouTube includes some really expressive photos so that's what made me post it here.

I've included the lyrics below.



So you sailed away
Into a grey sky morning
Now I'm here to stay
Love can be so boring

Nothing's quite the same now
I just say your name now

[Chorus]
But it's not so bad
You're only the best I ever had
You don't want me back
You're just the best I ever had

So you stole my world
Now I'm just a phony
Remembering the girl
Leaves me down and lonely

Send it in a letter
Make yourself feel better

[Chorus]
But it's not so bad
You're only the best I ever had
You don't need me back
You're just the best I ever had

And it may take some time to
Patch me up inside
But I can't take it so I
Run away and hide
And I may find in time that
You were always right
You're always right

So you sailed away
Into a grey sky morning
Now I'm here to stay
Love can be so boring

What was it you wanted
Could it be I'm haunted

[Chorus]
But it's not so bad
You're only the best I ever had
I don't want you back
You're just the best I ever had
The best I ever had
The best I ever

Episode of House: Pro baby, pro mother

Wow!

I just never would have thought House would go the direction it went tonight. Incredible. I won't ruin it for you if you haven't seen it, but it's my favorite one ever. Honestly, the only thing that hasn't changed for me in the past seven years is how much I still believe the baby in the womb is a baby.

If you didn't get to see it, be sure to look for the repeat on USA. If you did see it, let's talk in the comments.

Happy MLK Jr. Day

Just want to post his photo and remember him today.

Apple iPhone: Those guys are out of control

Click on the photo to see larger picture and click here to go to the website and then, I'm not kidding, spend the next fifteen minutes clicking on all the things the new iPhone can do and watch the most amazing future of iPods, cell phones, Google earth, portable Internet, photo album, television and movies... You name it, it does it.

Drooling...

Bengals fail to win

Pretty much a microcosm of their whole season.... failure to close when it matters. It's not just that they get beat, it's that they lose when given the opportunity to win. And yeah, we hate the Steelers around here.

Bengals record: 8 and 8, no play-off, no glory.

A backwards season with a few high points of celebration. I love 'em, but I'm sad for them today.

In other news: Dave's Detroit Lions salvage a season with a win over Dallas! Who saw that coming?

(I like any team that beats Dallas.)

Tiger Woods to become a dad!

I'm thrilled for Tiger and Elin.

Can Tiger sustain his 2006 streak?