trees: the beneficent beauties among us

I’ve never understood how the noun “tree-hugger” became a pejorative, like: “dick,” “bitch” or “drama queen.” (if you still believe the latter is allowable see: calm down? f@#k off!)

How can hugging trees indicate anything other than awareness and respect for all the gifts they give the whole planet? If you’ve never considered them as actual beings, if you’ve taken them for granted, if you’ve turned them into a category, then slowly ruminate over this phenomenal bestowal:

Shade, oxygen, cooling of the planet, pollen for health and honey, fruits, flowers, oils, teas, coffee, spices, flavorings, medicines, wood for furniture, houses, boats, musical instruments, etc., decorations, fuel, rubber, maple syrup, sugars, nuts, mushrooms, gum, fertilizer, bark, fibers, paper, cardboard, glue, resins, dyes & inks, turpentine, insulation, cotton/silk (Ceiba Tree), shampoo and perfumes.

Beauty! coloring all seasons.

Bird nests, homes and hosts for infinite beings, nesting materials. Trees mitigate humidity (add and subtract as needed), modify sound & light, give color, improve water: their roots are a natural water cleaning system, reduce soil erosion, wash the air, prevent pollution, maintain ecological balance and they add major property value.

Their presence textures our landscape vision. Trees have proven calming effects, ameliorate depression, provide fun (climbing), relaxation (think hammocks); they live hundreds of years; redwoods create whole new environments at the top of themselves and “they change the chemical nature of the soil…assum[ing] control of vital resources in the forest, particularly sunlight and water.”

Considering how humans treat them, use and abuse them without a thought or a thank you, trees exhibit infinite patience, something we could all use a little more of.

Maybe most importantly—in a world gone missing in doing and consuming—trees model wisdom in stillness.

Wisdom            in            stillness

women aren’t food

Alison Bechdel notices a pin-up calendar of a naked woman kneeling provocatively—in her book, Fun Home, Bechdel’s childhood autobiographical graphic novel—and suddenly her 10-ish child self alters. She asks her brother to call her Albert instead of Alison (she looks like a boy) while at the shop because—I believe—she feels exposed and objectified in a way she’d never experienced before. I, too, remember when I became aware of this indelicate difference—at age four—and came home asking my mamma if I could change out of my sundress into pants.

I grew up in the mid 50s–60s (think Mad Men) where ogling women and making crude, rude remarks were common place. While married to my ex, he didn’t gawk at women in my presence but I heard from my kids—after we’d divorced—that he “drooled” over women in theirs. The kids mildly heckled him for it until they were older and then told him to stop outright.

What’s the big deal, you ask? He wasn’t really hurting anyone, right? Boys will be boys and all that. “Just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t read the menu,” right? Wrong. Girls get the message—reinforced repeatedly and subliminally throughout society and the media—that their true and maybe only power is in being sexy bait instead of the all-encompassing empowered lesson boys receive.

Appreciating beauty, physiques, pecs & six-packs, breasts, art, architecture, nature, food, etc. is normal. But those things are not extensions of you; they’re just things you admire. Like cute kids or cuddly kittens. They exist in their own right. You don’t get to possess or minimize their existence because you desire them.

And speaking of animals, they aren’t just food. They could be food and are in certain circumstances but that’s not who they are intrinsically; they have their own lives and thoughts. If humans only recognize them for this one “service,” then we get heinous CAFOs, chicken “farms” and euphemistically labeled foods: veal, paté.

To perceive females as something one wants to consume suggests we’re commodities not humans. If men only see women in relation to their personal “needs” or desires then we women are spammed up as the main course in sicko porn.

Sexuality, sensuality, eroticism are things I love to participate in, be it “sex with one” or embraces with another. Lecherousness is a whole further level of puke. Who exists as a full being there? We live in an obsessive culture that over-praises sex to the exclusion of other joys or demonizes it to the level of “sin.”

Couldn’t sexuality have it’s own lovely, ordinary, human place? Couldn’t all beings/things on this planet be allowed their own beautiful value without looking for their utility in relation to us?

Begin with women. Practice not ogling; practice not wanting to. Men, if you’re over the age of 25 (maturation of prefrontal cortex), you’ve no excuse. Outgrow it like most men outgrow wanting to party all night, beer guzzling hats, fart jokes, and 20-hour gaming marathons.

In other words, grow the f@#k up.

waiter, could you wait please?

Remember when restaurant servers were called waiters? No? Well maybe we should return to that moniker because naming things accurately matters; words can create reality or delude it [see: dude! wow man, you guys are really cool!].

Recently my quasi and I were having a heated discussion in a local restaurant, written to distinguish from some conglomerate joint because even though I very, very rarely eat at them, I’ve unfortunately seen the “quality” of server hired there. Corporate believes anyone can be trained into a good server. Not so.

Recommence narrative where the quasi and I are in silent stare-down like two feral 3:00 a.m. cats but without the yowling. Out of the corner of my locked eyes I see the server approaching our table apparently because we weren’t continuously stuffing fork in mouth. Our atmosphere had to be as thick as the salmon chowder they were offering and still she obliviously singsongs, “Everything okay here?” to which I snap, “NO!” stare-down still going. At which point Clueless finds one and vanishes.

Before you get all judgy on me, I’ve been a server/bartender on and off from the ages of 18 to 45. I’ve done my time with all sorts of folks in all sorts of situations.

One of the biggest complaints I hear from my European family and friends about eating out in U.S. establishments is that the servers aren’t waiters; they’re “friends.” We go out to converse with each other, to eat, and not particularly to chat it up with servers unless, of course, they are our friends.

What encompasses good service, IMHO?

First, read your table. If “established” couples appear to have nothing left to say to each other then go ahead and chitchat. If people are discussing philosophy, art, politics…unobtrusively refill water, remove empty plates (see below) and don’t interrupt even if their beer is empty. Wait, hence the title: waiter. Position yourself nearby but not nervously, and frequently glance—not stare—at your tables. If we need you, I assure you our eyes will meet. If a couple is quarreling, stay away right up until one of them gets up to stalk out or you can see sunshine glimmering in the tempest. If guests arguing (or making out) upset you, then you probably shouldn’t be a server.

Secondly, I’m here to enjoy my meal, not feel like I’m being rushed through the experience so don’t bring out my next course until I’m finished with the dish I’m on. Where do you think you’re going to put that plate? There’s one in front of me already!

Third, do not reach for the almost empty plate regardless of your “training” or your angst. Many of us like to pause, discuss and lean back between bites and none of that automatically means we’re done with our food.

Leaving, I apologized to Clueless for flaring up and she replied, “That’s okay,” except it’s not. Too bad it didn’t occur to her to express her regrets for cutting in on us as if we were “things” to scratch off her to-do list. That’s not service.

i’m not upset that you lied to me, i’m upset that from now on i can’t believe you ~ friedrich nietzsche

A half truth is a whole lie ~ Yiddish Proverb

Honest people are a rare refuge in a culture where we have to swim the sea of lies euphemistically called “social skills”: white lies, lies of omission, manipulations, passive aggression, denial, deliberate cons, ass-covering deceptions… [see: neurosis is always a substitute for legitimate suffering ~ carl jung]

To lie is to intentionally mislead others—while they presume we’re giving them candor—so that they’ll form beliefs that are untrue. To some, the thrill of deception and manipulation is sexy; it’s also a pitiable way to shroud.

This constantly happens in politics, with sales people, military recruiters,  some journalists, lawyers, contractors. That’s precarious enough for us all but it’s downright lethal within relationships. [see: now we’re cooking with gas(lighting)] Especially with children. They look to us to reflect the world authentically so they can form realistic patterns of behavior. [For a "minor" version, see: the reason for the season is jesus and other lies]

Manipulators tend to be self-serving and tamper with the truth usually to get their immediate gratification “needs” met but they commonly confuse control with power as well. Conversely, in their repressed insecurity, liars care way too much what other people think of them, worrying neurotically about what impression they’re making. They can have more vanity and practice how to “be” in front of a mirror. And…we’re moving into the realm of sociopathic behavior.

Once you commit to speaking the truth, you begin to notice how rare it is to meet someone who shares this resolution, except for kids. And animals. No wonder many people in the States—our American philosophy being based on passive aggression or its flip side, machismo/individualism—opt for pets in lieu of forming long lasting human relationships. A simple breath of spring air in our polluted world of associations.

Honesty is an offering we can extend to others and a wellspring of power. It provides an opportunity for ease of interaction, not the complex muck of duplicity no matter how “benign.”

Studies have shown that responsible people are less likely to tell lies, especially the self-serving type, the ones we spin to make ourselves look better or to avoid unfavorable responses like blame, shame or discomfort. Lots of denial happens here. The more “altruistic” lies are told to make others feel better: “Nice haircut!” “You look great in those pants.” It’s been shown that men tend to do the former and women, the latter.

Am I lying as I write this? Maybe. It’s the written word; apparently words in print are given more credence, as are statements conveyed by a person in medical or other authoritative attire. I’m wearing a sweatshirt so I’d be suspect.

The bottom line is if you lie, you disturb the trust of another and those ramifications spread suspicion and wariness like undesirable pollen that contaminate our society’s underpinnings. Think hard before you glibly lob any sort of fabrication—unless you’re writing fiction. And even then, be wary, as all decent fiction should uncloak deeper truths.

eeeeeee! it’s a spider!!! it’s a muslim!! it’s a hoodie!

Here in the “Inland Northwest” United States, Spring comes a bit later than I’d like. But all it takes is one 60 degree (15.5 C) day and the insects flutter and wriggle to life.

Based upon the accuracy of the available measurements, we can say that there are between 150 million and 1.5 billion insects for every woman, child and man: 148,574,965.09 insects per human.

Please don’t stomp, spray, poison, squish, burn them. Leave them alone or put them outside. Please! They’re necessary for the health of the planet. Your fright doesn’t give you license to kill others and this includes insects.

I realize how absurd that sounds given the state of human global warring of tribe upon tribe, country upon country, “collateral” damage, not to mention the utilitarian objectification and subsequent subjugation of animals, ditto for plants and trees, systematic destruction of plant and animal habitat for human “growth,” the war on the earth itself with fracking, drilling, mountain top removals, bulldozing…

The myth of scarcity, the anxiety of consumerism in all its manifestations of commodities and experiences, the panic of “never enough,” that someone will destroy, steal or otherwise harm you or your stuff is a driving force beneath the patriarchal paradigm. Fear is the seat of it all.

But fear cannot be the be-all-end-all. It shouldn’t trump introspection, kindness or fairness—though it does—and it’s the biggest drug pushed across the U.S. and much of the rest of the world disguised in words like: “homeland security” “health” “progress” “restoring our neighborhoods” “smart defense” “humanitarian intervention” “surge” “terrorist” “ambition.”

Don’t be fooled. Fear is behind xenophobia and homophobia, sexism and racism, all “-isms” and phobias. Phobia means fear, people; there’s a phobia for everything.

Fear doesn’t have to be the only thought, or even the first. Just because something could happen or has happened before doesn’t mean it will. Doesn’t mean your fear is rational. Justifications are just that. Rajneesh once said, “If you want security, get in the coffin.”

A man in a turban is usually just a man in a turban. A teenager in a tight skirt is still a girl. Neither is about you. If you’re afraid of the first and titillated by the second, deal with it within yourself. Don’t project your alarm or “need” outward. That’s YOURS! It’s NOT them. Difference is not an evil or an object.

If a spider crawls out from under your stove or a honey bee is working your flowers or a yellow jacket is circling your picnic or a black boy—wearing a hoodie and carrying a pack of Skittles—is walking toward you, that’s YOUR terror talking. That’s NOT reality no matter how real it feels to you.

Conceivably one day your fear of others’ power to “get” you or your goods will subside by starting small. Begin with gentleness to the ubiquitous insects by letting them exist, and move from there. Maybe then you can allow other cultures, species, people different from you to exist, too.

How you do anything is how you do everything.

neurosis is always a substitute for legitimate suffering ~ carl jung

As a counselor, I usually have compassion for the variety of coping mechanisms people use. But with Cognitive Dissonance—uh, no. In short, it’s believing one thing yet doing the reverse; it’s the reality between who we are and who we think we are. I find it a fancier name for denial, for lying, for hypocrisy, for bullshit. Translation: the client doesn’t want to do the necessary work.

When most of us confront opposing wants, we have two choices: change our conduct for inner alignment to achieve integrity, or alter our attitudes and rationalize our behavior. Unfortunately, many are more prone to do the latter.

It’s “uncomfortable” to bring fantasy and reality together because suddenly it’s obvious what needs to be done and these depressing realizations mean we have a lot of work to do. Worse, we might have to face the fact that our “designs” are unfeasible. We might have to make an integris choice! We might feel pain! Oh no!

Some examples: to be anti-birth control and yet pronounce abortion a sin, to believe in the sanctity of a glob of cells within a women’s body and yet adamantly endorse the death penalty, to be a vegetarian but eat chicken—poof! sleight of mind—conflict resolved. You no longer see it.

Unfortunately, I can, and so do most others. Cognitive Dissonance does reconcile our mind’s discomfort with incompatible thoughts and actions, but in a magical thinking kind of way. We hate to have our inconsistencies pointed out and will attempt all kinds of mental contortions to avoid them. Still, there’s a perverted leap over the truth. And a lot of secrecy, too.

This often occurs in marital affairs, where those involved are adrift in their created delusion and fabricate a chimera rather than deal with the reality of their lives, their choices. Feels pretty immature and, honestly, spineless.

Because whatever you’re not dealing with, you’re passing on to someone else. Whether you intend to or not. See: now we’re cooking with gas(lighting). One of the major principles I taught my kids: If you throw a rock, don’t hide your hand. This meant they had to line their actions up with their thoughts and articulately stand by them. I respected my kids and their choices even if I didn’t agree with their “rock throwing.” Why? Because, at whatever age or stage of development, their intention was aligned with their whole Self.

I understand the need for resolution, I do. But I believe in conscience, too. Since when do people who compartmentalize not know what they’re doing? They do, and then they lie. To themselves, and to us.

but don’t you hate…

Over dinner one night, a (male) friend teasingly said, “But you hate men.”

I laughed and said, “No, not men—patriarchy, and entitlement which harms both genders.” I paused then continued, “It’s not my fault that the most entitled group in the U.S. happens to be white males.” He nodded.

Not counting my jesting friend, I’ve often found it amazing that when I point out the evident, others inject an assumptive opinion about what I mean or think, often trying to discount me personally for noticing and speaking up.

This is especially true if I verbalize anything to do with patriarchy. In my experience, the tetchiest people in the world are men. I’m old-ish now and I’ve been talking about the damage patriarchy has had on women, men, children, fauna, flora, dirt and the galaxies since I was a teenager, yet I can count on three fingers the times a man wasn’t defensive about this. This is especially true as income level rises.

First, no one is talking about You unless You identify with what is being seen/said.

Secondly, if something is obvious, it’s still not personal. It’s just obvious.

Thirdly, I’m not the only person who can identify this as a problem [testosterone: the most lethal substance on earth (george carlin)]. Observing something—be I female or male—doesn’t mean I’m choosing sides. Just because I see it and I’m female doesn’t mean I fabricated it or that it’s erroneous.

I’m on the side of “truth,” not gender. I’m on the side of empirical and repeated anecdotal evidence. I just want “it” to get better, people—not to be right. Which BTW, tends to be more of a male concern.

Zen tenet suggests that misery comes from not accepting “what is.” If you can’t look out at our world and not see that women are often prey, do 70% of the world’s work, bring home 17-30 % less than men (look it up)—just because, have males trying to regulate their wombs with laws and panels only populated by men to discuss reproductive rights, carry the emotional bulk of “relationships,” put in 4-5 x the hours of domestic-related work than men, that 95-97% of mainstream media, movies, TV are created by men and hardly any can pass the Bechdel Test, ad infinitum, ad nauseum, then you don’t have senses.

Women don’t cause the majority of the world’s conflict, are rarely terrorists, attackers, molesters nor do they blow the tops off of mountains, clear-cut, create CAFOs or—basically—throw Planet Earth under the bus. No, they don’t. See rabble, rabble, rabble : : women create, men destroy for more listed information. And BTW—really, truly—macho is unimaginative, at best.

So, boyz. How about stepping out of denial and step up to acknowledgment. The first course of action in healing anything is to accept “what is.” If you can’t do that, there are no other moves.

As Schopenhauer said: All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident. Let’s race for Self-Evident, okay? Bet I’ll get there first…

why women don’t date nice (entitled) guys

Years ago, a male friend bemoaned that women liked the ‘bad boys’ but only wanted to be friends with ‘nice guys,’ like him. “I clean up the snot and tears those guys leave,” he said. “I do the work, he gets the benefits. Then she falls in love with one of those guys all over again.”

Yes. That’s how it looked to him. Except, this “nice guy” was a “nice” player; he fell in love with being in love, not women. He’d write breathtaking love letters, buy thoughtful presents, speak intelligentsia, woo and delight until one day that ‘she’ seemed tarnished. No actual woman could live up to his entitled dreams of perfectionism.

When he fell out of love he always thought ‘she’ was flawed, not his unrealistic ideals. His usual time span was two years before he’d hurt her with an affair throwing over the artist for the professor, the torch singer for the judge, the writer for the dancer.

Such a nice guy!

Too often the myth that women like assholes or in their submissive heart of hearts want a master continues to be written and is frequently used to justify men’s bad behavior by telling women what they like and don’t like. But analysis doesn’t bear this falsity out. In various studies, being kind, sensitive and trustworthy are often at the top of women’s list. No! Really!?

Entitled people often think they know what others want, need or even think. They’ll insist you like things you don’t or tell you you’ve thought things that you haven’t. Arrogantly projecting their needs, fears or judgments about you onto you is common. If you protest, you’re wrong, too sensitive.

Privileged people can’t know what they don’t know and they don’t know what’s “below” them. The wealthy, many conservatives, whites, males, adults to children, middle age-ers to seniors, being born in the U.S. vs. Haiti, etc. often breed a class of people who only know what they would do, what they need and don’t have much compassion for what they haven’t experienced or don’t understand. They demand others pull themselves up by their bootstraps without realizing those others may not even have boots.

Some of these entitled “nice guys” delude themselves that they are nice, but heartfelt kindness consists of more than one action, is deeper than one aspect of personality. The comic character above sees only his personal slant while being blind to his blanket judgment of “all women.”

Regardless of gender or age, we’re all looking for a bit more kindness, understanding. We want to be seen as we are, not as we’re told we are.

If you’re not getting the attention you need from women maybe instead of deciding what they’re doing or not doing, you might turn your gaze to yourself.

now we’re cooking with gas(lighting)

Anyone aware of the psychological term, “gas-lighting?” This is a common practice used by deceptive partners to control—actively or passive aggressively—a “situation,” which usually means the actual person, in order to cover their tracks so they don’t get caught at some hidden behavior or stealthy agenda and/or to get their partner to doubt her-Self and question what she sees or knows.

He can dismiss or discount what she feels by flat-out lying to her, say one thing then do another, discharge violent or semi-violent episodes around her, deny definite words spoken or behavior she saw him do and much more until the tortured partner can’t relax in herself or in the relationship. If the woman protests she’s often criticized as “too sensitive” “hostile” “crazy” “ranting” etc. The problem is that the ‘victim’ begins to believe him. I say ‘him’ as this behavior is profoundly lopsided when it comes to gender.

The difficulty with lies, especially multi-layered long term secrets, is that all her perceptions and feelings are dubious to her, not just the ones related to the lies. She ceases to trust herself in most interactions of life—until the miserable truth is discovered. By then it’s a long road back.

A second pitfall is the ‘victim’ might begin minor acting out due to the ‘weight’ of the unknown burden she’s unconsciously carrying. Even some couples-counselors won’t see this as his deep acting poison within her surfacing but will believe much of the responsibility for the rupture is the woman’s because his actions are hidden.

Another grave issue is that secrets can cause illness on a cellular level manifesting in chronic illness. Both for the one in control as well as the duped. Recently, there’s more research being done on the bodily harm of secrets & lies, something 12-steppers have known for years: You’re only as sick as your secrets. Carl Jung wrote: “The possession of secrets acts like a psychic poison…”

There’s a big difference between privacy and secrets. Secrets are based in fear and have a foundation of shame. Privacy is more an act of choosing personal boundaries, and those are rarely hurtful to another. We all need privacy for our mental health but secrets are poisonous from the biological to the psychological. Addicts traffic in the realm of secrets as well as philanderers, abusive families, child molesters and lots more.

One major tool of the trade is gas-lighting. If you can get a person to doubt their Self, their spirit, you can manipulate and exploit them as needed. This is particularly horrible when used on children since they’re hardwired to trust.

And isn’t addiction about filling an emotional crater of emptiness, about feeling devoid in one’s true power coupled with the deluded belief that this perverted control they gain through con games and secrets is their power? I guess they get to feel “full”—for for a minute.

That polarity between power and control will be in an upcoming post.

‘weighty’ women & “little petty places”

In the U.S., childhood obesity keeps rising precipitously and many parents seem at a loss about what to do except let kids play outside, stop feeding them sugar & processed food at meals and “rewarding” them with treats, spend time with them actually cooking (not heating or microwaving) and sitting down to family meals of both corporeal and cerebral nourishment, empower them with kid-sized life choices and/or make them feel valued & essential to the planet. Barring those, what better way to handle fat than to discuss dieting to little kids. Next stop, eating disorders.

Last year, a book—written by a man—targeted to 4-8 year-olds and entitled, Maggie Goes on a Diet, tells the story of 14-year-old Maggie who bullied about her weight decides to do something about it. Well, we all know boys won’t be reading this book, not with a fat female protagonist. Cathleen Connors, author of HerBadMother.com astutely commented, “It’s so interesting that he didn’t write it about a boy, and that he uses girl-body-image stereotypes to make his point—young girl dreaming about fitting into nice jeans, etc.”

Yes. Even as a life-long thin woman, I can feel the pressure. Telling girls that in order to succeed, be considered healthy or beautiful and—pathetically—even smart, losing that extra weight is the remedy constitutes a dangerous poison that lasts a lifetime.

• Four out of five U.S. women are dissatisfied with their appearance.
• 81% of ten year old girls are afraid of being fat.

First, there’s more than one reason people put on weight and no enchanted pill, trendy diet or exercise program is going to melt all those reasons (or the fat) away—be you female or male, BTW.

Second, imagine what women could gift the world if they didn’t waste their life force “managing” their weight. Don’t hold your horses waiting for this to change. An abundance of this pressure is internalized, passes from mom to daughter, woman to woman and is constantly reinforced by a male-driven media that traffics in women’s bodies not because they care to create an ideal as much they want to exploit fantasy and fear to make big money.

On the male side: porn, driven by daydream bodies that most guys could never touch even if women really existed like that. ($$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$) For females: an unrealistic weight-loss-fantasy-physique that’s about 25% under the BMI. ($33,000,000,000,000+)

Many men I know like “woman-sized” figures—not skinny boy-bodies, not obese bodies. They like to squeeze a woman with actual breasts and hips and thighs. Countless women have real-life dreams that lie dead or dormant before the altar of “thin.”

To celebrate women of all ages and shapes, here’s Lucille Clifton’s 1987 poem:

Homage to my Hips

these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don’t fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don’t like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top