Seeking Less in 2008

January is named after the Roman god Janus, the god of new beginnings. He had two faces, one on the front of his head and one on the back. This handy feature allowed him to look backward and forward at the same time.

Today we all are like Janus – looking back on the successes and disappointments of 2007, but more importantly, looking forward to 2008. I love new beginnings, and always look forward to New Year’s resolutions that might make this the year I finally pull it all together and become my best possible self.

When I was in my 20s, I struggled to narrow down my list of New Year’s resolutions into 10 things that would make me smarter, worldlier or more employable. My lifestyle has changed a bit since then. Last year, I had one resolution: to make Sundays a day of rest. This was a great goal, but proved to be much harder than I expected. And not very restful. I only managed to accomplish this two out of 52 Sundays.

This year I’m taking a different approach to resolutions. My number one personal frustration is watching days melt away into years while some of my biggest dreams bob around aimlessly in my head like a float in the Macy’s parade. (Maybe I should resolve to read one of those self-improvement books collecting dust on my book shelves.)

My resolution this year is inspired by Ed Schafer. When he was governor he always required state agencies to search for savings by submitting budgets that were less than 100 percent of their existing budget. In doing so, he told agency directors, “I’m not asking you to do more with less. I’m really asking you to consider doing less.”

In our time-crunched, high-stress society, looking for ways to “do less” strikes me as a worthy exercise for just about anyone.

Doing less is the central ingredient of the two most common New Year’s resolutions: losing weight (eating less) and saving money (spending less). These two resolutions actually work well together. Amy Dacyczyn, author of “The Tightwad Gazette” (a book full of practical and somewhat crazy money-saving tips), ranks “thinness” as one of her five best bargains. I love her simple sensibility.

“Doing less” could well apply to some destructive behaviors like yelling at my kids, gossiping or complaining. This idea resonates with me right now because I’ve been reading about the overwhelming power of the human tongue to hurt and destroy.

Losing weight, saving money and being a nicer person are all excellent ambitions, but they are not ultimately what I’m after with my “doing less” resolution. I’m looking to clear out the clutter. Simplify. Do less of the crappy little things that consume so much time. Less errands, returns, activities, junk mail and junk email. Less shuffling of toys or listening to unnecessary noise. Rather than making my list longer and blood pressure higher, I’m searching for things to cut out, do without or simplify in order to live life more fully.

Ultimately, I know I won’t really do less. I’m not looking for time to sit on the couch and watch TV. My hope is to make a little room in my marching band of daily life so I reel in and play with one of those big dreams that are floating along in my parade.

Finding and Spreading Joy

I have a friend who is obsessed with joy. The word is even painted on her kitchen wall.

This busy mother of four young boys doesn’t have time to be obsessed with much, so when she first told me about this new pursuit, my brain immediately thought, “Oh, she’s seeking happiness.” And, as if reading my simple mind, she quickly continued, “Not joy as in being happy all the time, but in a deeper, more spiritual sense.”

Unfortunately, our conversation was interrupted by an urgent demand for Legos, but I’ve been thinking about the meaning of joy ever since. What is joy and where does it come from?

Some merchants suggest joy comes in the shape of a diamond or the form of a new car. I can’t relate to the car thing, but I have to admit I did feel pretty joyful when I received my engagement ring, but fortunately, that had little to do with the ring.

The word “joy” has a lot of different forms – joyful, joyous, enjoy. The term is used in a variety of creative ways. “Joy” dish soap. (What an insult!) Joy rides – an oxymoron for me. Or the “Joy of Cooking.” Somehow, I don’t think this applies to “boxed” mac and cheese.

All of these “joys” suggest pleasure, but joy is more than that. Joy is the return of good health after battling a major illness or health scare. Joy is the homecoming of a mom or dad, son or daughter after combat duty. Joy is the birth of a baby, your own or the one in the manger, a bundle of joy.

Sometimes joy can even shine in unexpected places. The comfort and support of friends during a crisis or tragedy can often create joy amid great stress or sorrow.

I recently learned the sign language expression for joy. Words can’t do justice to this sign, but I’ll do my best to describe it. The sign involves holding your hands about six inches away from your stomach and rotating them in a circle one over the other as if to suggest something positive is emanating out from inside of you.

So, all these ponderings bring me to Christmas ... If a season can be summarized by one word, Christmas is joy. Many of us carve out hours of time in December to spread joy and good cheer to people we love and appreciate – family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, customers, newspaper carriers, even perfect strangers. We give like crazy, listen to meaningful music and take time to socialize and enjoy others.

December is a marathon month of joy seeking and giving. We exhaust ourselves spreading this joy, and then, January rolls around and we pack it away with all the wreaths, ribbons and other wrappings of Christmas.

We can’t purchase joy, but we can seek it and spread it in attitude and spirit. What I really appreciate about my friend is that she is intent on nurturing joy not just at Christmas but always, every day, even at 5 p.m. when the collective energy of her four little boys seems ready to blow the top off her house. The word quietly resonates from her kitchen wall. Joy.

May you seek and find abundant joy this Christmas and throughout the New Year.

Rationing Christmas Cheer

Rationing was a part of every day life growing up in a family with eight children. Clothes, food, free-time, hot water for showers -- most commodities were tightly controlled. With a lot of people living under one average-size roof, anyone who exceeded the firmly established limit was sure to be caught.

Socks were the source of some very unholy wars in our house. My brother Dave put his initials on the toes of all his socks so he could immediately identify any thief who dared take one. Ice cream and sweet cereal were also closely guarded. To this day, I will serve myself two scoops of ice cream and return to the freezer for a refill rather than exceed the two-scoop ice cream limit that was drilled into me as a child.

Rationing was a necessity for my parents, and Christmas gifts were no exception. None of our relatives could afford to buy presents for all of us so we typically received three gifts: one from our parents, one from our “sibling swap” and one from Santa -- plus a couple treats in our stocking.

I remember feeling extremely jealous of a friend who once received her own TV for Christmas, but other than that I was usually quite satisfied with my bounty. My brother and I salivated over toys in the LaBelle’s catalogue, and I’ll never forget one year actually receiving the Easy Bake Oven I marked on those pages. The anticipation was far better than the toy.

Just last year I threw away a digital clock radio I received for Christmas in 5^th grade. It was cutting-edge electronics in its time. (Sadly, the new one I received to replace it lasted less than one year.)

I expect many others in my generation have similar childhood experiences. Our parents had less “stuff” available for purchase and less money available for purchasing. Besides, showering kids with “stuff” wasn’t fashionable or as common as it is today.

Still, compared to the meager gifts they received as kids, my parents spoiled us rotten. My mom has vivid memories of the few Christmases in which she received “a” gift under the tree. Their Christmas stockings were stuffed with a couple pieces of fruit.

Looking back, I’m extremely grateful I had to share, wait, hope and be satisfied with less “stuff” than I wanted as a child, and I want my kids to experience these “hardships” as well. And, since they probably aren’t going to learn them by being one of eight children, here are a few simple ideas I’ve gathered or concocted for controlling this holiday’s reckless consumerism:

• Censor the ads – ignore the inserts, magazines and email promotions. This saves time and prevents me from being lured away from my goal by good deals.
• Ration – establish firm gift limits, even for relatives, and stick with it.
• Agree with your kids to give excess gifts to children who live with real hardships.
• Pay with cash rather than credit.
• Give at least one gift with religious significance.
• Give gifts of time to a local charity.

I love the symbolism of the gift-giving tradition at Christmas. Rather than being a lesson in greed and an unsettling display of excess, I want it to be a source of joy and an expression of love and thanksgiving in our family.

With a little old-fashioned rationing, I think it can be.

Girls Gone Mild

My daughter jumped in the car one day last fall and declared with a troubled voice, “Mom, all the kids in my class say Pooh is for babies.”

My heart sank. We’ve been warned that kids grow up fast, but I honestly thought we had a few more years of Tigger and Pooh. After all, she was only four. Fortunately, my husband lobbied a persuasive defense for Pooh and the little bear still remains in our daughter’s good graces. His days are numbered though – he’ll be left behind by High School Musical any day.

It’s not easy preserving the innocence of childhood these days, especially for little girls. Bratz dolls dressed like pint-sized prostitutes line the aisles of toy stores. Abercrombie & Fitch sells thong underwear for 7-12 year olds. Even Disney has joined in with modern, scantily-clad princesses like Ariel and Jasmine.

There are few places to hide from sexualized images of women and girls – images that promote women not for any positive character quality but only as attractive objects for sexual satisfaction.

Television, the grocery store, even some of our own North Dakota businesses are getting in on the action. A Fargo radio station this summer bought a billboard featuring a woman’s torso in a bikini with the words “Turn us on.” A local dance studio teaches preschool girls to shimmy and “shake their booties.”

One recent Sunday while reading the newspaper in his Pooh character PJs, my husband pointed out the Halloween costumes. Each of the costumes -- expressly marketed to teenage girls -- was a different play on a common theme. A sexy pirate, naughty nurse, French maid, little devil. All of the teenage models boasted unnaturally skinny figures, sizable busts, bare legs and a flirty pose – perfect for a Halloween party with pubescent boys.

Sexualized images of women are so common many of us stopped being surprised by them long ago. I’ve been snapped out of my silent submission more than once with questions like, “Why are princesses so skinny Mom?” or “Why does that girl have a tattoo way down there on her back?”

The impact these images have on adults is one thing. But what are young children who are developing their attitudes about themselves and each other suppose to think when bombarded by these powerful messages? What are teenagers, raging with hormones, to do when faced with sexual images everywhere?

The answer to these questions is fairly obvious. Young people are becoming sexually active much earlier. And although teenage pregnancies are down, STDs in people ages 15-24 are rampant, even in North Dakota. Adolescent girls struggle with eating disorders and some even resort to plastic surgery to measure up to the images of perfect, sexy women surrounding them every day.

It’s easy to feel defenseless among all of these powerful forces, but we do have a number of good weapons to defend our kids. The American Psychology Association recommends:

• Turn off the TV or watch programs with your kids so you can identify with them the stereotypes.
• Boycott toys, books, videos and magazines that promote sexualized images of girls, including many popular teen magazines.
• Encourage involvement in activities that promote the building of inner character not outer beauty.

If ever there were a cause for a modern feminist movement, this is it. The sexual revolution of the ‘60s liberated women sexually. Now we need a new revolution to fight the superficial sexuality that threatens to define us.

Let’s wear the bras but burn the Bratz dolls.

Let’s Not Settle for Average

This summer, we packed our three kids into a mini-van and ventured out on our first “real” family vacation. Our agenda may have been a bit ambitious but the travel planner was pretty excited about traveling without an infant.

Our itinerary included two nights in Minneapolis followed by two nights at a lake near Madison. At this point, our kids were good and tired and ready to melt down over major decisions like which underpants to wear. Lucky for us, our vacation was just beginning.

We met my husband’s family at a water park in the Wisconsin Dells. Our first “ride” was in the wave pool. Now, I’m a big fan of Bismarck’s own Wachter Wave Pool but it is definitely not in the same ocean as the one we experienced in the Dells. This was like Hawaii under roof. The pool was even filled with salt water.

When the waves began, our kids clung for their lives on inner tubes while we attempted to protect them from the masses. The ride rapidly transformed into chaos. I caught my husband’s eye and he yelled, “It’s like a sea of Flubber!” We were surrounded by white bodies that had clearly consumed too much cheese. Oh well, we were in Wisconsin.

The water park experience was great fun and Wisconsin is a beautiful state (with excellent cheese!) But the Wisconsin Dells has sacrificed much of its natural beauty for cheap tourist gimmicks. The water parks on every corner seemed almost genuine compared to the surrounding ski shows, Indian trading posts, haunted houses, taffy shops, roller coasters, and even an imitation White House crime scene.

Contrast this with the small town of Stoughton, Wisc., just outside of Madison. This must be the Norwegian capital of Wisconsin. Downtown Stoughton is a real showpiece. The main street isn’t long, but all the storefronts have been restored. American and Norwegian flags fly along the entire length of the street. All the signage was consistently styled, and the sidewalks were concrete stamped to look like cobblestones.

Businesses had to conform to these standards and it probably cost them some extra money. But the end result is a charming destination where people want to be. That has to be good for business.

Research shows people are looking for “authentic” travel experiences, and now that I’m back in the travel scene I say “Amen” to that. Unfortunately, so many cities in America look the same and offer many of the same stores, restaurants and even entertainment experiences. I have greater appreciation today for the brave leaders in Medora who blocked construction of a water park some years ago. That could’ve been the beginning of the end of Medora’s unique appeal. If people want water parks, they can probably find them right at home.

Bismarck-Mandan is just emerging as a community and a destination for others. We have a great place to preserve and mold for the future. Our magnificent river valley, incredible views, interesting historical stories, original restaurants and shops, and peaceful coulees that meander throughout our community offer a lot of appeal for visitors and residents.

Our urgent challenge today is finding ways to use these resources without destroying them. How can we enjoy our river and develop along it while also protecting our most precious natural resource and lifeline for this community?

In order to maximize the awesome potential of our area, city leaders need to think big and make some tough choices on basic but vital matters like zoning, traffic and signage. Certainly, some people will gripe about it. However, those people and everyone else will ultimately benefit from Bismarck-Mandan being a great destination along one of America’s most important rivers.

If we want to be more attractive and appealing than the average American city, we need to be confident about what we have and set high standards for developing our unique place on earth.

Individual Responsibility Often Absent

If you spend anything more than, oh, 30 seconds listening to a presidential debate, you will most certainly hear a candidate making bold promises for solving any number of societal problems -- health care, housing, wages, social security, disaster recovery.

Listen closely to the discussion and one important party is typically absent of responsibility: individuals. In our culture today, we go out of our way to shift responsibility for problems away from individuals. Michael Vick killed dogs because of his upbringing. Parents blame their teenager’s drinking on his friends. I blame my husband for our messy house.

In all of these examples (especially the last one), some of the blame might be deserved. But by shifting the blame we are undermining the responsibility people, regardless of circumstances, have for their own actions.

Consider the debate in America about public education. Some argue teachers are responsible for low test scores. Others insist the state is at fault for not providing enough money to schools. Still others blame the federal government for leaving kids behind.

One obvious target is noticeably absent from this list: parents. As a parent, I feel it’s up to me to ensure that my children learn. So what’s my responsibility if he or she is failing? My husband likes the way Chris Rock sums up parental responsibility. “If you can’t read, that’s your mom’s fault. If you can’t read because you don’t have any lights, that your dad’s fault.”

Ask any teacher, “How can parents improve the outcome of kids in school?” and many will say, “Let me count the ways.” One teacher recently told me she wished parents would simply get their kids to bed at a decent hour so they were alert enough in school to actually learn.

But what elected official is going to hold parents even partially accountable for the challenges facing our schools? Sadly enough, probably not one who will ever win an election. Politicians are supposed to “feel our pain” not suggest we are in any way responsible for it.

This begs the question, what is our responsibility for taking care of ourselves and our families? Government can and should provide for people who can’t provide for themselves, but we have endorsed its growth far beyond that.

I think of my grandfather who established a homestead near Parshall, N.D., in the 1920s. He raised three children there on barren land and a one-room tar-paper shack. I’ve read letters he penned in which he told of having “no money” for the winter. Despite these dire circumstances, he was confident his family would survive because they had “canned and stored a lot of food.”

Can you imagine growing and canning enough food to last an entire North Dakota winter? No wonder he could eat lard sandwiches and still lived to be nearly 100.

He didn’t blame anyone for his hard luck, nor did he expect someone to fix his problems. He and my grandma worked from sun up to sun down every day. They received a little help from the government during the Depression, but for the most part they made it on their own and wanted it no other way.

That’s the kind of hard work and determination this state and nation are built on. I hope our generation can reach back into our ancestry and resurrect some of this gutsy independence. At some point I believe we will have no other choice.

Someone, please pass the lard.

Let Me Introduce Myself

I have a shelf in my bedroom of dusty books like the “Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” and “A Purpose Driven Life” -- all of them barely touched. Supposedly those books are very good, but they are just no match to Sex in the City re-runs at 10 p.m.

So I am amazed by people who have well-established five- or 10-year plans. I used to try that, but gave it up when I turned 30 and my “plan” called for being married with three kids. I wasn’t even engaged.

I prefer to stick to simple, universal goals. Be a good wife, loving mom, loyal friend, honest worker. This approach offers flexibility whenever I’m faced with life’s numerous crossroads.

I encountered my most significant crossroad when I was 27. I was living in a charming neighborhood in Washington, D.C., had a decent job and spent most of my time deciding what to eat, where to travel, and how to be entertained on weekends. I really loved the big city, the East Coast and my complete freedom to do whatever I pleased. I was prepared to live in Washington a longtime.

So, it was rather surprising to my friends when, two days before I was scheduled to start grad school there, I declared, “I’m moving back to North Dakota.”

These people thought my North Dakota heritage was quaint, but they couldn’t imagine why I would ever move back to North Dakota -- not even for a cool job. “Working for the governor of North Dakota is like working for the mayor of Baltimore,” one of my sarcastic East Coast friends said.

So be it, I thought. I knew what I was leaving on the East Coast and was excited about the opportunity to go home. Two weeks later I turned my white Pontiac Sunbird west and drove to Bismarck to be Ed Schafer’s communications director.

That was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and I’m very thankful for the providence that led me down this path. My grandparents are among those indestructible people who came to North Dakota when they were young, and through levels of toil none of us can appreciate, helped make this state livable. And, despite the fact that I am the youngest of eight children, all but one of my siblings still live here. We could be a poster family to defy “outmigration.”

I love North Dakota, the way it looks, feels, smells (except near the Simplot plant in Grand Forks) and especially the people who live here. Moving back to North Dakota was a turning point in my life. It changed my career path, fueled a latent interest in politics, and allowed what might have been a doomed long-distance relationship to grow into marriage.

We all face crossroads large and small every day. My life is littered with them. Writing this column is another, less dramatic example. I have a journalism degree and wrote a weekly column as a student, but for the last 20 years I’ve been writing words almost exclusively for other people to say.

I’ve written well over 500 speeches and probably twice as many news releases, guest editorials and letters to the editor. But writing a big speech for Gov. Schafer was much easier than writing my own name on this column. I feel like I’m being “outed” as a public commentator.

I’m dangerously close to 40. My husband and I have three children under age five and I work part-time on communications projects for a few different clients. All of this is to say, I really wasn’t looking for things to do when presented with this writing project. Yet, I couldn’t say no. My husband thinks it’s the beginning of a mid-life crisis. He’s expecting me to start writing about tattoos and trips to Vegas.

Well, I doubt it’ll ever be that interesting, but I will give it my best. I can’t stop thinking about topics. I’m particularly drawn to community issues, parenting, cultural trends and changes. Our society is so busy being busy, I think many of us are guilty of doing more than thinking. This column is my opportunity to stop and think.

I’m excited about this unexpected new path. Hopefully I’ll find my own voice along the way, and who knows, maybe even a 10-year plan!