Quote of the Day

When the Stranger says: "What is the meaning of this city?
Do you huddle close together because you love each other?"
What will you answer? "We all dwell together
To make money from each other"? or "This is a community"?

Oh my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger.
Be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions.

There is one who remembers the way to your door:
Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.
You shall not deny the Stranger.

T.S. Eliot, from "Choruses from the Rock"

A Gift

All through the winter, I've been feeding the feral cats outside my building - a mother and two small black kittens. They, rightfully too frightened of humans to come close, have often watched me with a seeming mixture of fear and curiosity from a safe distance, shrouded by bushes and shrubs. I have considered this my duty - it is not well to leave cold and hungry beings wanting when it is in your power to help them - but it has involved a measure of sacrifice: long walks to and from WINCO in subzero weather carrying heavy bags of catfood at $7 apiece, the possibility of disciplinary action from an unsympathetic housing administration that probably rightly knows that food attracts pests and that well-fed cats are fertile cats and could result in an even bigger problem. (I'll be working with the Humane Society to see what can be done - humane trapping, spaying/neutering and such.) But how often have I longed to gather them inside when the temperature dipped near to zero degrees! How often have I longed to pet them and to see them purr! How often have I wished that I could secure their future happiness by seeing them placed in loving homes! But humans are unpredictable creatures, and they are right to be cautious.

Last night while doing my laundry in the basement, I noticed that one of the cats - a small creature whose fur is shot through with silver, giving it a perpetually frostbitten look - was hovering anxiously near the food bowl, which was not quite yet empty. It was watching me through the glass doors at a closer distance than it had ever before dared. When I went outside to refresh the water bowl and put more food out, it watched me from a mere few feet away, ready to flee at any moment, but waiting with an almost tender solicitude (okay, maybe I am anthropomorphizing a little).

And then I saw it - the gift. A small dead field mouse lay on the ground in front of the food bowl, its tiny body still perfectly intact. Poor little mouse. But I have to admit my heart just melted.

Springtime Pleasures

Today, while I was walking to the library, I saw this guy take off his shoes and socks and dig his toes into the soil and grass of the lawn adjacent to the sidewalk. Carrying his shoes somewhat awkwardly in one hand, head down and grinning, he walked on, obviously delighting in the feel of the grass against his feet, reveling in this small opportunity to break out of the constraints of the artificial world and ground himself in nature. Just watching him made me happy.

Some Thoughts

I think that sometimes women objectify men just as much as men objectify women in our culture. It's just that instead of looking at men as physical or sexual objects, we tend to look at them more in terms of what they can give us emotionally. Sometimes, when we have been hurt, we objectify them by seeing them only as potential dispensers of brutality or oppression. (It is not my intention to reinforce stereotypes - of course there are always exceptions, and a broad spectrum of differences exists in humanity; this is just a generalization, but I have found it to be unfortunately true in the lives of lots of women I know, myself included.) I think we are often not even aware that we are doing it, and it is easier to find this type of objectification acceptable because it occurs in the realm of the mind and emotions rather than in the realm of, say, pornography or sexual assault (which, it can be argued, similarly acts on the mind and emotions, creating a false expectation of complete submission, acceptance, and even affirmation by women, or enhancing a sense of masculinity, power and control on the part of men). But the result is the same: a sort of dehumanization of the other, a utilitarian approach to fellow human beings that sees in them not who they are, but what they can give us or do for us.

Now this is all very subtle. When I meet a man, I have an unfortunate tendency to automatically think, could this potentially be The One? Usually, an instinctual, intuitive reaction gives me a simple yes or no answer within about 30 seconds. If no, I don't necessarily treat him any differently, but I know that I think of him differently. The brutal, honest truth, which I am loathe to accept about myself, is that a man who could be "The One" is both more and less of a person to me. He's more because I am more likely to invest time, care and attention in thinking about him, and he's simultaneously less because he's no longer just a fellow human being in my mind - he is put on a pedestal which both elevates him and restricts him, subjecting him to a silent, internal, invisible critiquing process. Not only that, but suddenly I am subjected to the same critical process - by myself. I begin to think of myself in light of whether or not I would be a compatible partner for this person, whether or not he finds me attractive, etc. I can no longer just be myself around the object of my attention and affection. Friendship goes out the window. I really, really don't like this about myself.

Here's what it all boils down to. I think that, as women, we need to treat men - our fellow human beings - not with hostility, not as though they are guilty of the sins of men who may have treated us badly in the past, but also not with an undue adoration or undeserved flirtatiousness. We need to treat them with a sisterly sort of love, expecting to be treated well and maintaining high standards of behaviour ourselves. They, like us, are fellow human beings - no more and no less. Let's be both respectful and appreciative of chivalrous gestures while firm in asserting ourselves in the face of chauvinism. But every man - not just those who have potential as romantic partners - is fashioned in the image of God and given the breath of life. Our treatment of each other as human beings needs to reflect that.

Men, please do the same and realize that all women, not just your girlfriend or spouse, should be treated with respect and dignity. In certain ways we are vulnerable - physically, economically, and emotionally - and should be treated chivalrously, but also as full human beings who have moral strength, intelligence, and valid goals and opinions of our own. We are not objects created solely for your pleasure, and we are not disposable. We also are given the breath of life, and should be cherished and protected as sisters.

One thing has become increasingly clear to me recently, and it is that how we treat each other as human beings influences our conceptions of God. There is nothing worse you can do to a fellow human being than damage their belief and trust in a loving Creator and Redeemer. And we cannot disapprove someone else into changing in the ways we would like to see them change. Hatred, resentment, and bitterness accomplish nothing. In many ways, people live up (or down) to our expectations. If we want someone to be gentle with us, we must also be gentle with them. If we want someone to be respectful of us, we must also be respectful of them. (That is not to sanction abuse. If you are in physical or emotional danger, get out! Besides, it doesn't do the other person any favors to allow them to continue to put themselves in the spiritual danger of abusing you.)

Ultimately, we cannot change or save each other, we can only love one another.

Candlelight Prayer Vigil for the People at Virginia Tech

Tonight students, staff, administrators and faculty at my university came together to pray and to mourn those whose lives were affected by the tragedy at Virginia Tech. Christian, Muslim, and Jewish prayers were offered up as we all stood together with our candles flickering against the darkness of the night. There were luminaries for each person lost, with names and ages listed. Seeing those luminaries made it feel more real to me somehow, similar to the effect of seeing the acres of white crosses at WW II veterans' cemeteries in France. Each one represented a life, a human being's loves, fears, hopes and dreams. Each one represented a constellation of friends and family members whose lives will never again be the same.

The vigil was sorrowful, but there was hope in it too. I was heartened by the collective response of the university community, and I took comfort in how many people were there to remember those lost and to pray for their families and friends. May their memory be eternal.

Crush not like a fever

Crush (the soda) is nothing like a fever.

Crush Soda

And on a completely unrelated note, I really like Crush. The soda. In all its orangey goodness.

A crush like a fever

Being notoriously crush-prone, I've decided that a crush is like a fever. You have to just let it run its course. Eventually it will burn itself out.