For the last two weeks I’ve been apologizing to everyone who enters my house. Just inside the front door, I have transformed our dusty and useless dining room into a staging area for my latest project.
Stacked chest high are boxes of maternity clothes, piles of toys, collections of glassware, half used bottles of hair tonics and anything else that has no overriding functional or emotional purpose in our lives.
I started 2009 seeking to be lean. Now, with the green grass of spring I’m trying again to lighten the load. I recently watched my neighbor downsize her family of six into a smaller house. Now I want to do almost the same thing: downsize the stuff, keep the house.
My friend Sandy calls this a pretend move. I love this idea.
The process of packing, hauling, unpacking and relocating every single item you possess quickly clarifies the wisdom of saving a half-used bottle of four-year-old sunscreen or Grandma Olga’s nightgowns accepted while grieving after her funeral.
To provide a deadline for this project, I volunteered to host a multi-family rummage sale. This is actually more motivating than a closing date with a banker – rummage salers case your joint the night before a sale and begin collecting their purchases at the slightest sign of daylight.
My kids are absorbed in the project too. On the sales block are some precious toys they know will fetch a good price. The two oldest are laying claim to baby things they are convinced were theirs. Our youngest, on the other hand, is suddenly attached to toys he lasted touched when he was toothless.
My daughter even asked this weekend if she could sell a large chunk of bark she found. “Sure,” I said mindlessly. “How much do you think someone will pay for it mom? Three dollars?”
Money is certainly their motivation, but mine is altogether different.
My oldest sister gave me the book “Gift from the Sea” for my 40th birthday. First written and published in 1955 by Ann Morrow Lindbergh (the wife of Charles Lindbergh), “Gift from the Sea” offers Lindbergh’s thoughts on balancing life, work and relationships.
The mother of five lived in a different era, yet her struggle to find balance in life parallels that of women today. The book is the product of Lindbergh’s hiatus by the sea away from her family.
At the sea, she discovered and began to shed what was unnecessary to her. Clothes first – she needed only a few light pieces. This spread into the shedding of vanity. She simplified her shelter, needing no heat, no telephone, very little furniture or decorations. This spread into the shedding of pride and material possessions.
She also shed hypocrisy in relationships and her mask of insincerity. She didn’t need these when she was with her best, most trustworthy friends.
In the end her challenge was not how much, but how little she could get along with.
I remember standing in my friend’s garage before she moved. One-third of it was full of items she planned to shed. Another third were things for indefinite storage. And the final pile, probably the smallest, contained their necessities for daily living.
It’s amazing what we collect, even more amazing why. Standing in my dining room the stuff surrounding me feels heavy and rather suffocating. I’m excited to shed some of it and to be more disciplined in the future to ask, as Lindbergh did, before accumulating more things to manage, “Is it necessary?”
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Not just an ordinary jog in the park
I had my own personal Earth Day celebration this weekend – a surprise party actually.
As I drove down to the river for a morning run, a thick fog limited visibility to about 30 feet. I delighted at the sudden sight of a big wild turkey strutting in the coulee near my car. I felt like yelling, “Good morning,” to him.
The entire river valley was smothered in fog, even the bridges were hidden from view.
The birds had already been awake for hours. They had a lot to talk about after such a long winter. Their busy chatter provided the music for my run. Woodpeckers hammered away on trees, robins sang their cheerful song and countless others I can’t identify clucked, cawed and tweeted excitedly. Maybe I’ll see an owl, I thought, and kept a close watch on the naked trees for any such sign.
I passed a lone goose swimming peacefully on some backwaters. He was still there an hour later on my return -- what a life! A few of his lady friends were making their way toward his pond and I almost had to veer off my path to avoid them.
Showing not even a hint of concern at my presence, they leisurely waddled across the trail, glancing ever so slightly at me with their bills in the air. All they needed were a couple of bonnets and they could have passed for the sassy geese in “The Aristocats.”
A squirrel bounded under my feet, perfectly camouflaged against the trees and dead leaves that covered the ground. I harkened back to winter walks when we were repeatedly thrilled by giant white jackrabbits that popped randomly out of the snow and led our dogs on fruitless chases across the prairie.
As I headed north again the sun finally overpowered the fog. Could it be that the grass was already turning green? Just a week ago the same path was impassable with snow and ice.
As I jogged under the new Memorial Bridge, a low hoot echoed above. Was it pigeons or the wind bouncing under the rafters? I wasn’t sure until I saw a chorus line of gray birds watching me intently from their high roost. Their numbers and formation were so impressive they could have been the Rockettes.
Another mile north, on higher ground, the fog returned thicker than before. I couldn’t even make out the nearest river bank. My brow was wet, not from sweat but from the mist of the fog. The sudden awareness that I was running in the clouds gave me a fresh rush of energy.
On the final stretch of my run, Mr. Golden Sun shined powerfully over the hills that flank the river. He was determined to suppress that stubborn fog. A grove of black trees stood proudly while the sun’s rays beamed behind them.
The reflection of the rays in the fog was brilliant, a dramatic contrast to the black trees. Those trees knew they were in the spotlight, and they loved it. This scene and the end of my run left me breathless.
Back at my car, I stretched and pondered the many surprising joys of the past hour by the river. When I stood up I almost couldn’t believe what I saw. There before me, spanning the river, was the grand finale: a full rainbow.
I felt like cheering, but stood instead in silence and admired the small miracle until it vanished.
Thank you Mother Nature, dear God, for such an amazing show.
As I drove down to the river for a morning run, a thick fog limited visibility to about 30 feet. I delighted at the sudden sight of a big wild turkey strutting in the coulee near my car. I felt like yelling, “Good morning,” to him.
The entire river valley was smothered in fog, even the bridges were hidden from view.
The birds had already been awake for hours. They had a lot to talk about after such a long winter. Their busy chatter provided the music for my run. Woodpeckers hammered away on trees, robins sang their cheerful song and countless others I can’t identify clucked, cawed and tweeted excitedly. Maybe I’ll see an owl, I thought, and kept a close watch on the naked trees for any such sign.
I passed a lone goose swimming peacefully on some backwaters. He was still there an hour later on my return -- what a life! A few of his lady friends were making their way toward his pond and I almost had to veer off my path to avoid them.
Showing not even a hint of concern at my presence, they leisurely waddled across the trail, glancing ever so slightly at me with their bills in the air. All they needed were a couple of bonnets and they could have passed for the sassy geese in “The Aristocats.”
A squirrel bounded under my feet, perfectly camouflaged against the trees and dead leaves that covered the ground. I harkened back to winter walks when we were repeatedly thrilled by giant white jackrabbits that popped randomly out of the snow and led our dogs on fruitless chases across the prairie.
As I headed north again the sun finally overpowered the fog. Could it be that the grass was already turning green? Just a week ago the same path was impassable with snow and ice.
As I jogged under the new Memorial Bridge, a low hoot echoed above. Was it pigeons or the wind bouncing under the rafters? I wasn’t sure until I saw a chorus line of gray birds watching me intently from their high roost. Their numbers and formation were so impressive they could have been the Rockettes.
Another mile north, on higher ground, the fog returned thicker than before. I couldn’t even make out the nearest river bank. My brow was wet, not from sweat but from the mist of the fog. The sudden awareness that I was running in the clouds gave me a fresh rush of energy.
On the final stretch of my run, Mr. Golden Sun shined powerfully over the hills that flank the river. He was determined to suppress that stubborn fog. A grove of black trees stood proudly while the sun’s rays beamed behind them.
The reflection of the rays in the fog was brilliant, a dramatic contrast to the black trees. Those trees knew they were in the spotlight, and they loved it. This scene and the end of my run left me breathless.
Back at my car, I stretched and pondered the many surprising joys of the past hour by the river. When I stood up I almost couldn’t believe what I saw. There before me, spanning the river, was the grand finale: a full rainbow.
I felt like cheering, but stood instead in silence and admired the small miracle until it vanished.
Thank you Mother Nature, dear God, for such an amazing show.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Keeping Our Kids Afloat in Dangerous Seas
Who knew McDonald’s play land would be the site of my child’s first informal education on some intriguing adult subjects. One minute she and her friends were slipping on the slides, the next minute she was getting an earful of confusing information about her favorite childhood idols.
Her “teacher” was another little girl, smart and kindhearted, who had been educated by her friend, who had been schooled by her teenage sister who found the gossip on the internet. So it goes. News travels fast among the young and curious who have access to virtually endless information online.
While I regret that my child heard some of this, the experience offered a timely reminder about the world in which children are growing.
Humans have been educating and corrupting each other since the beginning of time. I learned an awful lot from my friends as a kid, good and bad.
The big difference is back then our steamiest source of information was Judy Bloom books that we snuck in the library to read juicy details about puberty. My childhood idols were Mary Ingalls, Marcia Brady and Charlie’s Angels.
Today’s children swim in a sea of popular culture dominated by sex, violence, pornography, gossip and materialism -- all of it available in graphic video just a click away on a handheld device.
Sadly, our children’s youth and innocence are drowning in this sea, and often the death is occurring on our watch in our very own homes.
Our community has had extensive conversations and initiatives aimed at improving how we feed our kids. But I wonder, are we worried enough as parents about how we feed the minds of our children through the movies, video games, music and online information they consume every day?
I was talking recently with a mom, Laurie, who is in the throws of raising teenagers on the East Coast. She piqued my interest in the hottest teen show called, “Gossip Girls.” It’s “Desperate Housewives” for teens.
Last week’s storyline followed characters at their elite New York City high school as they talked about “makeup sex,” attended cocktail parties and plotted to ruin each other by posting sex tapes on the internet.
Laurie and her husband watched an episode with their kids and decided they could find better entertainment. The teens moaned and complained, “ALL our friends get to watch it.”
So, Laurie called the other parents and asked if they’d seen the show. None of them had. “Sit down next week and watch it with them,” she urged.
I like this approach. First, the parents are aware of potential problems because they monitor their kids’ entertainment. Second, they set boundaries and standards, explaining inappropriate material and offering alternatives. Third, they talk to other parents – not condemning but suggesting they might want to make an informed decision.
The first line of defense is parents, but others can provide valuable support. Bismarck’s Charity Lutheran Church is tackling this issue with discussions about purity. The program is aimed at teaching “tweens” that what they choose to put into their minds -- via music, movies, books, Internet sites and video games -- affects the way they think and act.
It’s a great program that provides a framework for parents to reinforce at home.
I can get easily overwhelmed by the challenges of raising children today. The world is a constantly changing sea of tantalizing high-tech hazards and I feel ill-equipped at times to compete.
But I’m reminded and encouraged that the tools we have as parents, if we use them together, can be extremely effective. Be aware, set boundaries, communicate openly with kids starting when they are tiny, and form alliances with other parents and adults.
These are our life vests and we must use them diligently to keep our kids afloat.
Her “teacher” was another little girl, smart and kindhearted, who had been educated by her friend, who had been schooled by her teenage sister who found the gossip on the internet. So it goes. News travels fast among the young and curious who have access to virtually endless information online.
While I regret that my child heard some of this, the experience offered a timely reminder about the world in which children are growing.
Humans have been educating and corrupting each other since the beginning of time. I learned an awful lot from my friends as a kid, good and bad.
The big difference is back then our steamiest source of information was Judy Bloom books that we snuck in the library to read juicy details about puberty. My childhood idols were Mary Ingalls, Marcia Brady and Charlie’s Angels.
Today’s children swim in a sea of popular culture dominated by sex, violence, pornography, gossip and materialism -- all of it available in graphic video just a click away on a handheld device.
Sadly, our children’s youth and innocence are drowning in this sea, and often the death is occurring on our watch in our very own homes.
Our community has had extensive conversations and initiatives aimed at improving how we feed our kids. But I wonder, are we worried enough as parents about how we feed the minds of our children through the movies, video games, music and online information they consume every day?
I was talking recently with a mom, Laurie, who is in the throws of raising teenagers on the East Coast. She piqued my interest in the hottest teen show called, “Gossip Girls.” It’s “Desperate Housewives” for teens.
Last week’s storyline followed characters at their elite New York City high school as they talked about “makeup sex,” attended cocktail parties and plotted to ruin each other by posting sex tapes on the internet.
Laurie and her husband watched an episode with their kids and decided they could find better entertainment. The teens moaned and complained, “ALL our friends get to watch it.”
So, Laurie called the other parents and asked if they’d seen the show. None of them had. “Sit down next week and watch it with them,” she urged.
I like this approach. First, the parents are aware of potential problems because they monitor their kids’ entertainment. Second, they set boundaries and standards, explaining inappropriate material and offering alternatives. Third, they talk to other parents – not condemning but suggesting they might want to make an informed decision.
The first line of defense is parents, but others can provide valuable support. Bismarck’s Charity Lutheran Church is tackling this issue with discussions about purity. The program is aimed at teaching “tweens” that what they choose to put into their minds -- via music, movies, books, Internet sites and video games -- affects the way they think and act.
It’s a great program that provides a framework for parents to reinforce at home.
I can get easily overwhelmed by the challenges of raising children today. The world is a constantly changing sea of tantalizing high-tech hazards and I feel ill-equipped at times to compete.
But I’m reminded and encouraged that the tools we have as parents, if we use them together, can be extremely effective. Be aware, set boundaries, communicate openly with kids starting when they are tiny, and form alliances with other parents and adults.
These are our life vests and we must use them diligently to keep our kids afloat.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Sunny Getaway = Happy Parents
Fresh back from a five-day sojourn in Southern Florida, I’m listening to blizzard warnings on the television and searching my skin for any remaining evidence that I was recently near the equator.
I’m also trying to remember what it was like sweating in the sun just a few days ago. I can see myself lying in that lounge chair. If only the wind would quit howling I might be able to recapture the feeling too.
This was the first vacation without kids for my husband Mike and I since we gave birth to our first seven years ago. We daydreamed about these five carefree days for months. The righteous indignation of our kids made the anticipation even sweeter. How dare we travel to the beach without them. “NO FAIR,” they complained.
You’re right – it isn’t fair, we taunted back. Whoooo hooo!!!!
We left them in the capable hands of my 23-year-old niece Amy, and stocked her with four gallons of milk, 3 dozen eggs, 24 yogurts, a freezer full of meals, pre-arranged play dates and car pools, schedules, charts and phone numbers for reinforcements.
What she lacked in experience and parental wisdom she would certainly make up for in energy, we reasoned. She agreed to the job without negotiating her fee first. Take Away Lesson Number One for Amy.
When we called her from the Minneapolis airport on our flight out, she was trying to squash a meal-time rebellion. Take Away Lesson Number Two was taking root: Do not rush to have children.
This one meal probably delayed Amy’s childbearing days by about a decade. But she handled it like a real pro and did what any seasoned mom would do. She created a chart, titled it, “Report to Parents” and decorated it with sad faces.
Here’s how she described her first meal: “E got up from the table several times while eating to do karate and yell. All three kids yelling even when repeatedly asked to stop. E and N repeatedly putting faces into pizza and laughing when told to stop. The youngest gave me two thumbs down and said, ‘Amy, you’re this!’”
Her final remark: “Supper = disaster.”
On the other end of the phone in Minneapolis, I searched for some helpful tip to make things better, but my mind was already on the beach. “Show them who’s boss, Amy,” I encouraged before dashing onto the plane to Miami.
On the jet way I remembered Mike’s warning to her the day before. “Amy, you know how there are times in life where five days just flies by and you think to yourself, man where did that time go?” he said.
“Yeah,” she responded cheerfully.
“Well … this isn’t going to be one of those times. The days are going to go reeeeaaaaal slooooooow.”
For us, on the other hand, the days dissolved faster than a bite of cotton candy. What an escape from the responsibilities of work and family, from cold weather and daily routines. By the second day, everyone on the trip was holding hands and snuggling -- not necessarily something that happens spontaneously after wrestling with kids and work all day.
We talked without interruption and broke all the rules -- stayed up late, slept in, ordered adult food, drank Pina Coladas in the afternoon (I think it was after noon), and read chapter books of our own choice.
The sun and heat were great, but the biggest takeaway from the trip was remembering how much I like my husband.
With a benefit like that, we won’t wait seven years to arrange another “unfair” getaway, if only to Minot. That is if we can convince an unsuspecting babysitter like Amy to make it possible.
I’m also trying to remember what it was like sweating in the sun just a few days ago. I can see myself lying in that lounge chair. If only the wind would quit howling I might be able to recapture the feeling too.
This was the first vacation without kids for my husband Mike and I since we gave birth to our first seven years ago. We daydreamed about these five carefree days for months. The righteous indignation of our kids made the anticipation even sweeter. How dare we travel to the beach without them. “NO FAIR,” they complained.
You’re right – it isn’t fair, we taunted back. Whoooo hooo!!!!
We left them in the capable hands of my 23-year-old niece Amy, and stocked her with four gallons of milk, 3 dozen eggs, 24 yogurts, a freezer full of meals, pre-arranged play dates and car pools, schedules, charts and phone numbers for reinforcements.
What she lacked in experience and parental wisdom she would certainly make up for in energy, we reasoned. She agreed to the job without negotiating her fee first. Take Away Lesson Number One for Amy.
When we called her from the Minneapolis airport on our flight out, she was trying to squash a meal-time rebellion. Take Away Lesson Number Two was taking root: Do not rush to have children.
This one meal probably delayed Amy’s childbearing days by about a decade. But she handled it like a real pro and did what any seasoned mom would do. She created a chart, titled it, “Report to Parents” and decorated it with sad faces.
Here’s how she described her first meal: “E got up from the table several times while eating to do karate and yell. All three kids yelling even when repeatedly asked to stop. E and N repeatedly putting faces into pizza and laughing when told to stop. The youngest gave me two thumbs down and said, ‘Amy, you’re this!’”
Her final remark: “Supper = disaster.”
On the other end of the phone in Minneapolis, I searched for some helpful tip to make things better, but my mind was already on the beach. “Show them who’s boss, Amy,” I encouraged before dashing onto the plane to Miami.
On the jet way I remembered Mike’s warning to her the day before. “Amy, you know how there are times in life where five days just flies by and you think to yourself, man where did that time go?” he said.
“Yeah,” she responded cheerfully.
“Well … this isn’t going to be one of those times. The days are going to go reeeeaaaaal slooooooow.”
For us, on the other hand, the days dissolved faster than a bite of cotton candy. What an escape from the responsibilities of work and family, from cold weather and daily routines. By the second day, everyone on the trip was holding hands and snuggling -- not necessarily something that happens spontaneously after wrestling with kids and work all day.
We talked without interruption and broke all the rules -- stayed up late, slept in, ordered adult food, drank Pina Coladas in the afternoon (I think it was after noon), and read chapter books of our own choice.
The sun and heat were great, but the biggest takeaway from the trip was remembering how much I like my husband.
With a benefit like that, we won’t wait seven years to arrange another “unfair” getaway, if only to Minot. That is if we can convince an unsuspecting babysitter like Amy to make it possible.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Simple Principles Keep ND Healthy
A few national reporters are looking curiously at North Dakota these days, wondering how this obscure, little state is avoiding the economic devastation that’s occurring from sea to shining sea.
“Maybe we could learn something from North Dakota?” they have asked.
As a matter of fact, they probably could.
While most states are trying to patch up their bleeding bodies with band aids of stimulus dollars, North Dakotans are debating ways to responsibly use or even save the millions in federal money that, frankly, we don’t need.
It’s easy to dismiss North Dakota’s success in one word: oil. But it isn’t that simple. If oil was the core of our success, our economy would have plummeted right along with oil prices in the last six months.
It hasn’t. So what’s going on here? High demand for energy, strong commodity prices, and a construction boom has certainly bolstered our economy. But two other major factors, fully within our control, are stabilizing North Dakota’s economy and they offer some timeless lessons for the rest of the nation.
First, North Dakota banks and financial institutions didn’t partake in the lending schemes that have destroyed housing markets and financial systems in nearly every other state. As one Bismarck car dealer told the New York Times in December, “We don’t do those goofy loans here.”
Our banks and consumers largely bypassed the tempting new products on the market, following instead traditional, proven lending methods. This has made an enormous difference in North Dakota.
By avoiding the mortgage disaster, our financial sector remains healthy and able to provide the stabile financial foundation that fuels our businesses and shoulders our economy.
The lesson is a simple one: If it seems too good to be true, it is. Home ownership is an awesome goal, but it can’t be achieved by simply lowering lending standards. Three cheers for North Dakota’s sensible, conservative bankers and home buyers.
Another key factor that is largely going unnoticed is the stability of our government. This isn’t just an accident or dumb luck. It’s the result of diligent elected leaders who have set priorities and made tough choices.
For years, we have elected people who have been good stewards of our resources, using economic growth to fuel government growth not the opposite.
Most importantly, our leaders have paid careful attention to funding government that is affordable not just in good times, but bad. In 2007, legislators rejected $550 million in new spending programs that would have further increased the baseline cost of government and devoured a bulk of today’s budget surplus.
They also returned millions back to taxpayers and saved millions more in a state “rainy day” fund.
This too is a simple lesson: live within your means. It’s a rule our elected leaders have followed that’s paying big dividends for all of us.
North Dakota citizens reflect this same principle every day. It’s why most people here don’t lease fancy cars they can’t afford just to make themselves look good. It’s why I’ve never seen a “foreclosed” sign on a house in my city.
It’s why twice in the last two weeks I’ve learned of friends who secured a second job to pay for a vacation or home improvements rather than going into debt.
North Dakota isn’t completely immune from the economic crisis, but the strength of our financial system, the stability of our government and the sensibility of our citizens give us a fighting chance to escape the worst of it.
“Maybe we could learn something from North Dakota?” they have asked.
As a matter of fact, they probably could.
While most states are trying to patch up their bleeding bodies with band aids of stimulus dollars, North Dakotans are debating ways to responsibly use or even save the millions in federal money that, frankly, we don’t need.
It’s easy to dismiss North Dakota’s success in one word: oil. But it isn’t that simple. If oil was the core of our success, our economy would have plummeted right along with oil prices in the last six months.
It hasn’t. So what’s going on here? High demand for energy, strong commodity prices, and a construction boom has certainly bolstered our economy. But two other major factors, fully within our control, are stabilizing North Dakota’s economy and they offer some timeless lessons for the rest of the nation.
First, North Dakota banks and financial institutions didn’t partake in the lending schemes that have destroyed housing markets and financial systems in nearly every other state. As one Bismarck car dealer told the New York Times in December, “We don’t do those goofy loans here.”
Our banks and consumers largely bypassed the tempting new products on the market, following instead traditional, proven lending methods. This has made an enormous difference in North Dakota.
By avoiding the mortgage disaster, our financial sector remains healthy and able to provide the stabile financial foundation that fuels our businesses and shoulders our economy.
The lesson is a simple one: If it seems too good to be true, it is. Home ownership is an awesome goal, but it can’t be achieved by simply lowering lending standards. Three cheers for North Dakota’s sensible, conservative bankers and home buyers.
Another key factor that is largely going unnoticed is the stability of our government. This isn’t just an accident or dumb luck. It’s the result of diligent elected leaders who have set priorities and made tough choices.
For years, we have elected people who have been good stewards of our resources, using economic growth to fuel government growth not the opposite.
Most importantly, our leaders have paid careful attention to funding government that is affordable not just in good times, but bad. In 2007, legislators rejected $550 million in new spending programs that would have further increased the baseline cost of government and devoured a bulk of today’s budget surplus.
They also returned millions back to taxpayers and saved millions more in a state “rainy day” fund.
This too is a simple lesson: live within your means. It’s a rule our elected leaders have followed that’s paying big dividends for all of us.
North Dakota citizens reflect this same principle every day. It’s why most people here don’t lease fancy cars they can’t afford just to make themselves look good. It’s why I’ve never seen a “foreclosed” sign on a house in my city.
It’s why twice in the last two weeks I’ve learned of friends who secured a second job to pay for a vacation or home improvements rather than going into debt.
North Dakota isn’t completely immune from the economic crisis, but the strength of our financial system, the stability of our government and the sensibility of our citizens give us a fighting chance to escape the worst of it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
ND Wins Big -- Or Do We?
“Why is everything so bad right now Mom?” my daughter asked while we were making supper and listening to the evening news recently. “Why are they always talking about how bad everything is?”
I hadn’t considered how the constant news about crisis and tragedy might sound to our kids … So began my attempt to explain our country’s economic woes to a 1st grader.
My child is confused by the constant doomsday talk not only because she’s seven but because she doesn’t really see or feel the pain here in North Dakota.
No, we aren’t completely isolated. Some dear friends are leaving our neighborhood, in part to shelter themselves from the recession. My husband survived two reductions-in-force last year and his company was recently bought out, promising more cutbacks. So, our future has some concerning question marks.
But despite some layoffs and evidence of slowdown, North Dakota stands like an economic fortress among the houses of cards that are toppling throughout the United States. North Dakota has a $1 billion budget surplus, abundant jobs and among the lowest unemployment rates in the nation.
Considering the steady financial position of North Dakota, I was among those disturbed by news from our Congressional delegation last week that North Dakota will receive $493 million in “formula funding” from the economic stimulus package.
Formula funding is one of those government terms that we tune out. It must be code for money distributed without consideration of need.
“Per capita, only two states do better,” a news release from Sen. Kent Conrad glowed. “These resources will be invested in North Dakota’s highways and bridges, our law enforcement agencies, our growing energy sector, and our children’s school lunch programs.”
Fine. North Dakotans will probably spend it more wisely than most. But I thought the point of the package was to stimulate troubled economies? With some states near collapse, should North Dakota with a record budget surplus be among the biggest winners per capita of stimulus money?
I know North Dakota won’t reject the money, but I’d like to see us return part of it. For instance, our share includes about $25 million for the State Energy Program. Compare this to the program’s current annual budget of about $250,000 and you’ll understand why some people in state government question whether we will be able to responsibly spend all of this money. That's a 10,000 percent increase in just one program in one small state.
Examples like this undermine confidence in this approach. I'm plagued with questions about it. How can a 30 percent increase in the entire federal budget be debated, passed and signed into law in less than one month? Will we ever pay it back? Who are we beholden to for this debt? Are we the Soviet Union of the 21st Century, spending our way to prosperity while we mortgage our financial systems to a future world power like China?
Another side of me is just curious, as an outside observer might be, to witness what kind of effect this massive spending plan will have on our nation. Is it bold and brilliant or the beginning of a long and painful demise?
Plenty of people are making predictions, but no one really knows. Ultimately, all of the nay saying, cheering and predictions in the news doesn’t matter. We are in an economic, political and social experiment of historic proportions, and only history will determine whether it works.
My daughter feels isolated from the economic crisis today, and I hope that continues to be the case. Most of all, I pray it doesn’t fall squarely on her lap when she’s raising a first grader of her own.
I hadn’t considered how the constant news about crisis and tragedy might sound to our kids … So began my attempt to explain our country’s economic woes to a 1st grader.
My child is confused by the constant doomsday talk not only because she’s seven but because she doesn’t really see or feel the pain here in North Dakota.
No, we aren’t completely isolated. Some dear friends are leaving our neighborhood, in part to shelter themselves from the recession. My husband survived two reductions-in-force last year and his company was recently bought out, promising more cutbacks. So, our future has some concerning question marks.
But despite some layoffs and evidence of slowdown, North Dakota stands like an economic fortress among the houses of cards that are toppling throughout the United States. North Dakota has a $1 billion budget surplus, abundant jobs and among the lowest unemployment rates in the nation.
Considering the steady financial position of North Dakota, I was among those disturbed by news from our Congressional delegation last week that North Dakota will receive $493 million in “formula funding” from the economic stimulus package.
Formula funding is one of those government terms that we tune out. It must be code for money distributed without consideration of need.
“Per capita, only two states do better,” a news release from Sen. Kent Conrad glowed. “These resources will be invested in North Dakota’s highways and bridges, our law enforcement agencies, our growing energy sector, and our children’s school lunch programs.”
Fine. North Dakotans will probably spend it more wisely than most. But I thought the point of the package was to stimulate troubled economies? With some states near collapse, should North Dakota with a record budget surplus be among the biggest winners per capita of stimulus money?
I know North Dakota won’t reject the money, but I’d like to see us return part of it. For instance, our share includes about $25 million for the State Energy Program. Compare this to the program’s current annual budget of about $250,000 and you’ll understand why some people in state government question whether we will be able to responsibly spend all of this money. That's a 10,000 percent increase in just one program in one small state.
Examples like this undermine confidence in this approach. I'm plagued with questions about it. How can a 30 percent increase in the entire federal budget be debated, passed and signed into law in less than one month? Will we ever pay it back? Who are we beholden to for this debt? Are we the Soviet Union of the 21st Century, spending our way to prosperity while we mortgage our financial systems to a future world power like China?
Another side of me is just curious, as an outside observer might be, to witness what kind of effect this massive spending plan will have on our nation. Is it bold and brilliant or the beginning of a long and painful demise?
Plenty of people are making predictions, but no one really knows. Ultimately, all of the nay saying, cheering and predictions in the news doesn’t matter. We are in an economic, political and social experiment of historic proportions, and only history will determine whether it works.
My daughter feels isolated from the economic crisis today, and I hope that continues to be the case. Most of all, I pray it doesn’t fall squarely on her lap when she’s raising a first grader of her own.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Obsessing about Love
Last week, our kids transformed the kitchen into a Valentine factory. Glitter covered our table, counters, chairs and most of our dogs too. Piles of papers baring heart-shaped wounds littered the floor.
They produced 50-some creations that only a mother can recognize as hearts, and taped a piece of leftover Halloween candy on each one for good measure. (At last -- that stash is gone.)
Valentine’s Day aside, love has been on my mind a lot this past year. Not heart pounding, stomach dropping romantic love, but love as in “love your neighbor” or “love your enemy.”
Love like:
• The Trinity Lutheran Church lady who volunteers 50 hours each week to coordinate The Banquet meals for needy people in our community.
• The young women who help developmentally disabled adults swim at our local pools.
• The people who run the Children’s Advocacy Center, Abused Adult Resource Center, Teen Challenge, Charles Hall, Ruth Meier’s, and all the churches that serve the poor and less fortunate.
These people live love as a calling.
Recently, a young priest at my church told our congregation that he hoped we could feel his love for us “overflowing” from him. He choked up a bit as he spoke and his words struck me, not because they were terribly profound but because they were so sincere.
Here was a young man who has devoted his life to loving and caring for others and you can, most certainly, feel the love flowing from him. What a gift to us – immeasurable really, in terms of the impact on people around him.
Helen Keller said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”
We hear this and nod because we know it’s true. Yet we are so easily, almost obsessively distracted from this lesson. We pack our days trying to see and accomplish and accumulate things to touch, and in the process lose sight of our most important calling to love.
In the rush of a day, it’s easy to bypass simple, loving gestures like sitting down with my five-year-old to talk about his school papers, having a complete conversation with my husband, or calling a lonely friend.
Mattie Stepanek, a young poet who died at age 13 from a severe form of muscular dystrophy, became famous for his touching “Heartsongs” poems. I’m not a big reader of poetry, but this little boy’s plain words are inspiring.
In a poem titled, “Believing in the Journey” he wrote, “Everyday, everyone in the world should do at least one nice thing for others. Doing so can help each person believe in himself or herself more fully and give confidence that may inspire each person to do more new and good things.”
It’s simple and idealistic. But it works. Kindness and love are contagious, not just on Valentine’s Day but everyday. May you be inspired to do more new and good things, even small and insignificant, so your love overflows for everyone to feel.
They produced 50-some creations that only a mother can recognize as hearts, and taped a piece of leftover Halloween candy on each one for good measure. (At last -- that stash is gone.)
Valentine’s Day aside, love has been on my mind a lot this past year. Not heart pounding, stomach dropping romantic love, but love as in “love your neighbor” or “love your enemy.”
Love like:
• The Trinity Lutheran Church lady who volunteers 50 hours each week to coordinate The Banquet meals for needy people in our community.
• The young women who help developmentally disabled adults swim at our local pools.
• The people who run the Children’s Advocacy Center, Abused Adult Resource Center, Teen Challenge, Charles Hall, Ruth Meier’s, and all the churches that serve the poor and less fortunate.
These people live love as a calling.
Recently, a young priest at my church told our congregation that he hoped we could feel his love for us “overflowing” from him. He choked up a bit as he spoke and his words struck me, not because they were terribly profound but because they were so sincere.
Here was a young man who has devoted his life to loving and caring for others and you can, most certainly, feel the love flowing from him. What a gift to us – immeasurable really, in terms of the impact on people around him.
Helen Keller said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”
We hear this and nod because we know it’s true. Yet we are so easily, almost obsessively distracted from this lesson. We pack our days trying to see and accomplish and accumulate things to touch, and in the process lose sight of our most important calling to love.
In the rush of a day, it’s easy to bypass simple, loving gestures like sitting down with my five-year-old to talk about his school papers, having a complete conversation with my husband, or calling a lonely friend.
Mattie Stepanek, a young poet who died at age 13 from a severe form of muscular dystrophy, became famous for his touching “Heartsongs” poems. I’m not a big reader of poetry, but this little boy’s plain words are inspiring.
In a poem titled, “Believing in the Journey” he wrote, “Everyday, everyone in the world should do at least one nice thing for others. Doing so can help each person believe in himself or herself more fully and give confidence that may inspire each person to do more new and good things.”
It’s simple and idealistic. But it works. Kindness and love are contagious, not just on Valentine’s Day but everyday. May you be inspired to do more new and good things, even small and insignificant, so your love overflows for everyone to feel.
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