tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-111306732024-03-13T00:02:49.585-04:00An EpistemologyAn epistemologyAn Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-10789691161991814822019-09-16T12:12:00.003-04:002022-09-26T06:32:18.527-04:00 My Favorite Love Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGGV4VixDQNc6tVfUPW5t2SnZZnlRAYerpnEruvDgihKnjtaJxELQyl-lzegAsZLTtjOr0AEyHZSU4O4-zOWe5TqPejZjd8jJRHoJNsrnszk0bVPmxlUN8JZgdS3X0Y2oYlcn/s1600/Lora+and+Orson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1581" data-original-width="1189" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGGV4VixDQNc6tVfUPW5t2SnZZnlRAYerpnEruvDgihKnjtaJxELQyl-lzegAsZLTtjOr0AEyHZSU4O4-zOWe5TqPejZjd8jJRHoJNsrnszk0bVPmxlUN8JZgdS3X0Y2oYlcn/s400/Lora+and+Orson.jpg" width="300" /></a> </div>
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My Favorite Love Story</div>
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I love to ask couples how they met. I realized today that I am searching for a love story that rivals my favorite.</div>
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It starts on September 19, 1877, when Orson was born to Danish pioneer immigrants, James and Ane, in the northeastern Arizona territory. Eventually, the family moved to a farm in the high altitude of Alpine Arizona. The summers are warm, and the winters bring snow in this part of Arizona. 14 years later James won a 4-year contract with the U.S. government to deliver mail by horse between Springerville, Arizona and Luna, New Mexico.</div>
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Orson shared the responsibilities for the contract with his father James and his older brother (and best friend) Erastus. Each taking turns fulfilling the delivery requirements three times a week. As time went on, more often than not, it was Orson doing the horse and cart trips through the Escudila mountains alone. Orson’s father had built a small house and stable in Luna for him to stay overnight during these deliveries. Sometimes Orson would make a couple extra dollars picking up packages or passengers on these trips.</div>
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It was during these trips to Luna that he met another teenager Lora Belle Tenney. Lora was born into a family that had been in the United States since starting their American journey in 1638 Salem Massachusetts. Along the way, and generations later, the Tenney family became one of the first pioneer families to settle New México. It isn’t clear if Orson knew then he liked Lora during the chance meeting at church.</div>
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Life and time took them their separate ways. Lora loved school and had been unable to finish the schooling she desired. Being the eldest daughter in her family, when her mother became ill, it became Lora’s responsibility to take care of her mother and her younger siblings while her father, Samuel, ran the family sheep ranch. Lora took an interest in healthy eating when her mom became ill and learned what she could about nutrition as she prepared the family meals. At the age of 19, Lora met and married a man named John and went on to have two children. One boy and one girl. Eventually, Lora’s marriage to John became unfit and she moved with her children and parents to Thatcher, Arizona near the Mexico border. Shortly after the move she and John were divorced.</div>
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In his teens, Orson had enjoyed making tools for the farm. Not having the equipment of a blacksmith shop, he improvised. He used a section of rail as an anvil, his hammer and forge were homemade, he made charcoal for his cooking oven from pinion pine. Once the government contract was up, Orson got a good paying construction job. He was generous with his mother, often sharing half of his pay from his jobs with her. Orson was also a conservative spender and had started to grow his savings. Orson developed the reputation for being quick, strong and capable of finding solutions to make the work more efficient. One job led to another, eventually getting a job as the blacksmith, making and repairing some the tools that would be used to build the tunnels for the Roosevelt Dam. This is important for later – and is a part of what makes this my favorite love story.</div>
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Orson’s younger sister eventually married Lora’s brother. There, at his sister’s home, over a decade later, he saw Lora again when she came up to visit. After Lora returned to her parents’ home in Thatcher, her and Orson’s relationship flourished by letters mailed back and forth. Orson knew what his nest egg was for now.</div>
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When Orson talked to his brother Erastus about wanting to marry Lora, his brother warned against it because she was divorced. He was concerned Orson would be making a mistake. Orson defended her. When he proposed she required reassurance that he also loved her two children. She required a lot of reassurance about his feelings about her children before she would marry him. They did marry, and he adopted John Wayne who was 8 years old at the time and Ethel who was 5 years old.</div>
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Orson bought a blacksmith shop in Thatcher that mostly repaired wagons. Lora and Orson bought a home together nearby the blacksmith shop. They eventually raised all 6 of their children there, added on to the house several times, and lived in that home for 42 years.</div>
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But this isn’t where the story ends. Yes, they did get “happily ever after”, but that isn’t the only thing that makes this great. What makes this a great love story happens next.</div>
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In 1916 horses were sharing the burden of transporting goods and people with millions of Model T’s. The writing was on the wall for his busy blacksmith shop. In 1916, with Lora pregnant, the whole family went to Los Angeles for 6 months, so Orson could take a course in automobile mechanics. Lora and Orson’s oldest, Wayne, enrolled in a course on electricity while the rest of the children continued with regular courses in L.A. Education was very important to both Lora and Orson. After the classes wrapped up for Orson and Wayne, the family enjoyed a vacation on the way back to Thatcher in the California Baja of Mexico.</div>
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In 1917, their youngest son, my grandfather was born. They bought their first car that year. A Maxwell. As soon as Orson brought the new car home, he gave a key to his now 20-year-old adopted son, Wayne. Orson had stayed true to his promise to love Lora’s kids as his own. He adored Wayne as much as my grandfather. He adored all of his kids, and especially his wife. She happily returned his affections.</div>
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Two years later, Lora wanted to return to school. He was in full support of her achieving her dream. To help make it happen, Orson would open the shop and bring their toddler, Samuel, to work with him. He made a playpen for Samuel at the shop and managed the shop while Samuel played and napped. While Lora was at school Orson would also run back and forth from the shop caring for whatever was in the kettle for dinner that night and taking the bread from the oven. It delighted him to have a family growing in knowledge. Lora graduated from junior college in the midst of the depression.</div>
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As toddler Sam became a teenager, in 1930 they visited a barnstorming air show. Orson paid for his youngest son, who was fascinated with the planes, to go up for a ride in the plane. Sam went on to turn down West Point because Lora had a bad feeling about it. He did go on to become a pilot in WWII, then on to become one of the pilots that flew the generals in the U.S. Military around the globe after WWII, afterwards he taught cadets to fly during the Korean War eventually retiring as a Colonel.</div>
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Lora’s and Orson’s love story has an underlying theme of love, respect, acceptance, honor and support for each other’s dreams and aspirations while doing their best to enjoy each moment. This photo of them kissing was taken when they were in their 80’s – and according to Wayne who they lived next door to them – still very in love.</div>
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I’ve compiled this from written family stories I’ve been collecting over the year. - Rachel Skousen</div>
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An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-66693002546836073252019-09-16T12:05:00.000-04:002019-09-16T12:05:12.937-04:00Schadenfreude<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">According to the online Oxford Dictionary, schadenfreude is the <span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;">pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">This morning on the way to school my son started talking about a story he heard of someone trying to get their pet pig elected into some position in Detroit. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">The motivation for the theatrics was that some of the elected officials have criminal records. Ah. Time and experience has allowed me to see things aren’t always what they seem on the surface. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Especially in the media. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">It is so easy to judge other people without knowing the circumstance. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">My son accused me of being ‘Pollyannaish’, but this time he didn’t get upset at me (progress!). </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I asked him, “What was the attempted murder charge? That is a serious offense, no doubt, but there has to be more to the story.” He couldn’t tell me. He was judging just the part of the story someone wanted him to hear for their own gain. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I smelled schadenfreude. While my son was waiting for class to begin, he must of have looked up why this elected official had been charged with attempted murder. He sent me a screenshot of what he found. </span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: 1pt none; color: #2a2a2a; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The man was 18 at the time, being raised by a single mom and thought she was being raped when he came home one day. The elected official who didn’t have a record up until then, shot the man forcing himself on his mother. Yes, incredible harsh consequences and perhaps this is an argument for gun control. But, within the context, I think it shows courage to show up for loved ones when in danger. Ask questions and lead with compassion as much as possible.</span></span></div>
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An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-21156605997964557152014-08-15T23:27:00.004-04:002022-09-26T06:39:52.635-04:00 A Love Triangle<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My
childhood best friend did not like that my parents hadn't given me a middle name
at birth. By the age of seven (or some time close to that), she rectified the
situation and bequeathed me "Rachel Priscilla". I disliked it so much. But once
again, in my 30’s, a boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend) did the same thing. Who even
thinks of the name Priscilla these days? Weird.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Within the
last couple of years I have learned that my 10<sup>th</sup> great grandmother, Priscilla Mullins Alden, came over on the Mayflower. Perhaps because random
people have been trying to give me her name for decades now; I feel a natural attraction to her story. And also, she came over on the Mayflower. How cool is
that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I dug
through old family records and searched the Alden family website, I found her story
reveals something I think has been passed down through the women in my family.
She is famously known for what she said to the man who would become her
husband, my (10th) great grandfather, “<span style="color: black;">John--why dost thou not ask for
thyself?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Priscilla was 17 years old, she and her family boarded
the Mayflower. They arrived at Plymouth in December 1620. Priscilla was the
second daughter and fourth child of William Mullins and Alice Atwood Mullins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her parents and her brother, Joseph, died
during the first winter in Plymouth, leaving her the only remaining member of
her family in the New World.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Priscilla chose her husband; being one of the few single young women, she had choices and she clearly was not a damsel in distress -- even though she had lost part of her family that had made the journey with her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I drove across the state for work this
past week, I found myself reflecting on her story and why she would choose John
Alden and not Captain Miles Standish. At that pinnacle moment, as the story goes, John had been sent by the Captain to propose to Priscilla for him. Their love triangle was one that
fascinated another great-grandchild of Priscilla and John’s, Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow, so much he wrote their love story in his poem <i>The Courtship of Miles
Standish</i>. Her decision, John over Miles, made her (and John) the great
grandparent(s) to two U.S. Presidents; if that puts any perspective as to the
consequences of choices.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John Alden
was hired for the Mayflower to serve as the Cooper. He was not a pilgrim. He
shows exceptional people skills in somehow maintaining his friendship with Miles
Standish, despite what had to be an uncomfortable situation, even if
briefly. The two of them settled what is now Duxbury, not to far from the landing site. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hough life is funny sometimes. If I understand correctly, John and Priscilla’s 4</span><sup style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
child married Miles 2</span><sup style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">nd</sup><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> child (Miles did go on to marry someone
else) eventually making them all family anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I admire my (10<sup>th</sup>)
great-grandmother for not settling for someone who didn't have the time to
propose himself. She was able to see that as it was, and have foresight enough
to know that wasn't what she wanted. She spoke up, and wasn’t
afraid to speak her mind at that moment. Now, I don't mind if anyone jokingly calls me Rachel Priscilla. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">M<a href="http://www.alden.org/" rel="" target="_blank">ore about the Alden family can be found here: http://www.alden.org/</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://librivox.org/the-courtship-of-miles-standish-by-henry-wadsworth-longfellow/" rel="" target="_blank">TheLongfellow Poem (audio version) https://librivox.org/the-courtship-of-miles-standish-by-henry-wadsworth-longfellow/</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.pilgrimhallmuseum.org/pdf/Courtship_Miles_Standish.pdf" target="_blank">And a quicksummary of the story: http://www.pilgrimhallmuseum.org/pdf/Courtship_Miles_Standish.pdf</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://www.pilgrimhallmuseum.org/john_alden.htm" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About John Alden</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For my family that is curious about the lineage, I think it is (John+Priscilla>Joseph Alden + Mary Simmons>John Alden+Hannah White>Thomas Wood + Hannah Alden>Lemuel Wood + Rebecca Tupper, etc) but if you have the Mayflower Society paper work that supersedes this in accuracy. </span></div>
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An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com1142 N Rd, Chilmark, MA 02535, USA41.3859639 -70.721771434.532151631909358 -79.5108339 48.239776168090643 -61.932708899999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-28162550930488423302014-02-08T10:01:00.001-05:002014-12-08T19:46:53.230-05:00The Art of Breaking Up<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Disclaimer: I started writing this in 2012 and have written parts of it slowly since.... Good things take time? :-)</i><br />
<br />
I find it ironic I’m writing this now, but perhaps it is not that ironic. I’m recently divorced - but the actual break up really happened years ago, well before the paperwork was filed. If I am truly honest with you, and myself, I
should acknowledge the whole thing was probably doomed from the get-go. And
heaven only knows why I decided to overlook the doom and gloom and took that
jump (probably some crazy notion I had about love).</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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(As of the writing of this) I’m currently dating a man who puts a smile on my face,
80% of the time, okay maybe 89%. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes
he causes me to think twice AND sometimes I am really unsure if I want to
venture into a relationship again (because this will probably hurt at some
point), not necessarily because of a break up; I honestly don’t have a feeling
about that one way or the other on that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But people, in all kinds of relationships, at one point or another “hurt”
each other in some form; its gonna happen -- but then I spend time with him and
think to myself, “I think he’s worth taking the risk”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And just in case you run into us being all
cute and coupley (because we do that) I want to get this out of the way: Do I
think he’s “the one”? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me answer that
for ya, HELLO??!?! I’ve been married twice, in my share of long term
relationships and I have to be honest I don’t have the foggiest as to what
anyone means by “the one”. -- Time will only tell. --<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this time, I’m going to need lots of time. --I do like him, enough to throw aside my original plan to be single right now. And
THAT is the only thing I am certain of. As much as I may sometimes pretend to
be certain of other things (I am rarely ever certain of much these days).<o:p></o:p></div>
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But this is supposed to be about the Art of Breaking Up. Here
is a disclaimer: I see the world different than lots of people. You could be
one of those people who just doesn’t get me; you may live on Mars and eat lots
of -- well I don’t know what people from Mars would eat if they really exist –- But YOU MIGHT be one of
those people who just will not get me, or this propensity I have for keeping my
ex’s as friends. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s okay – just
get that I live in Rachel-land and in that land some people stay friends after
they break up, they forgive each other and keep what is good in sight. (And,
here in this land, the ruler eats lots of veggies and chocolate, but she will
cook a decent brisket for her meat eating family and friends).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXnsjGi-PM8owsB3JfVCitZVJ1ncVUlhRKKfoLWz7fbV3WjuYasEc9pYKJo36v1FSGXKyfpXNNnpeyI5nGgHzMbW6pWfNKQjKYw13Tcbm3DPAE7e13mfXg0ab43KtcXSZMH3hh/s1600/IMG_0291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXnsjGi-PM8owsB3JfVCitZVJ1ncVUlhRKKfoLWz7fbV3WjuYasEc9pYKJo36v1FSGXKyfpXNNnpeyI5nGgHzMbW6pWfNKQjKYw13Tcbm3DPAE7e13mfXg0ab43KtcXSZMH3hh/s1600/IMG_0291.jpg" height="182" width="320" /></a>My first break up. I was in 7<sup>th</sup> grade and my
parents had just moved me (and my brothers and sisters) to a more rural town than
the suburban town I had just spent majority of my 13 years on this planet. I
met him the way my parents met, in Sunday School. At church, a Mormon church,
where there is lots of focus on relationships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a little older than me,
but Brian and I clicked pretty quickly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in those days (over 25 years ago) we
called it “going with”, my parents called it going steady and probably because
he went to the same church they tried to be cool with it, at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Brian was my first kiss, the first boy to hold my hand, the
first to say, “I love you” to me outside of my family. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our relationship lasted roughly about 7-8
months – a long time in our puppy-years’ time frame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our relationship still held on to the
innocence of our youth, we didn’t forge into any territory that makes adults
saddened at the loss of innocence so young. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I honestly can’t remember how or why we broke up. I can’t
even remember now who did the breaking up because -- over 20 years later -- it
seems so trivial in the light of the friendship Brian and I now share. All
through high school he dated most of my friends (I’m typing this with a smile).
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was also my first lesson in letting
go of feelings that seemed outdated, and moving into a territory of friendship,
and honestly wanting the best for the other person. This did not happen over
night – or even within a month – but by my sophomore year in high school we
were back to being close friends. It also taught me that sometimes when I say,
“I love you” to someone I really do mean it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was overcoming the disease of bitterness
that plagues the women in my mother’s family, but I didn’t realize that then,
it is only now as I look back it seems apparent. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When him and his stepmom starting butting
heads, he moved in with my family. My brother and him shared my parents
basement, which was probably my parents way of keeping 2 floors between us as
we shared a house for a few months while the adults got things sorted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjNQx97OXpdtw8bIfj8XsatMZY2F0PABVcGOTQ-Tv3ekyHM-0etQ7A-V7B6E_4Vv81-L42456EVrCqBYkPHgAk-PJvLaoZoJf_m-K6erHpehbIXQHJhdobXGW7r_i1GFjjtDg/s1600/IMG_2899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjNQx97OXpdtw8bIfj8XsatMZY2F0PABVcGOTQ-Tv3ekyHM-0etQ7A-V7B6E_4Vv81-L42456EVrCqBYkPHgAk-PJvLaoZoJf_m-K6erHpehbIXQHJhdobXGW7r_i1GFjjtDg/s1600/IMG_2899.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>Brian went on to join the Army. He met and married his first
wife. He fell off the face of the earth for 10 years. And then he came back
into my life when I was 7 months pregnant with my last child, just months
before my oldest was diagnosed with cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And we picked up right where we left off. The same friendship was still
there. He has been just a phone call away through the cancer, the disaster that
happened in my marriage, and all of the craziness life has brought me. He is
the resounding testament that I am so glad I didn’t listen to the craziness
that once you date (or in our case “go with”) someone you can never be
friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, our friendship evolves. We
are more like brother and sister in some ways, yet not. He reminds me who I
have been, who I am capable of becoming and when I have a question about my car
at 6am he answers, slightly annoyed, but there for me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is the voice that encourages me to date the
man I am dating now, to take a risk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
I listen to him, and encourage him. He has recently met someone he is so
excited about. She lights his world up. I am so happy for him. And I feel
somehow richer because I know this is how it is meant to be and I listened to
that and so did he. And both of us stuck by that feeling, we are just supposed
to be friends nothing more or less. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the
courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear
of uncertainty.” </span><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span><span style="background: white; color: #181818; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">―</span><span style="background: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/162578.Bren_Brown"><span style="background: white; color: #666600; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Brené Brown</span></a></span><span style="background: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, <i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/7261277"><span style="color: #666600; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of
Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are</span></a></i></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The most amazing gift you can give yourself<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is to see past hurt feelings, to be open to
something different than what you thought might be and let life take you where
you are supposed to be. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-29436342016752634662012-10-02T04:41:00.000-04:002013-12-10T12:31:56.236-05:00Learning to Have Faith <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUAbaCTbcJrU6Ke5NtgdllgQNfULZCWPmIv-6GMv-Mzwfny5HDQzJybk0h_LtPDM-xGnKZJV95Fm-3Lz0M7hj1y3dMrE7RvcOECmvG4pLtPQvx8b8xVB94jNwZ6Qp3ZuxeLtbX/s1600/faith-379x1024+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUAbaCTbcJrU6Ke5NtgdllgQNfULZCWPmIv-6GMv-Mzwfny5HDQzJybk0h_LtPDM-xGnKZJV95Fm-3Lz0M7hj1y3dMrE7RvcOECmvG4pLtPQvx8b8xVB94jNwZ6Qp3ZuxeLtbX/s320/faith-379x1024+copy.jpg" width="118" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I want to run a marathon… someday.” I found myself telling my new neighbor (who had run a marathon) that it was on my bucket list. I spoke those words to him before my son spent almost a year in the hospital fighting cancer; it was 4 years before I knew I could run a mile, then 2, then 5, and after a lot of work -- 20 miles. It was years before I was aware that I might have a capacity far beyond what I had ever recognized. I had no clue how, or when, I was going to run a marathon; I knew nothing about training, or if I was even capable. At that moment, I was far from that goal. But I knew I wanted to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Faith was something spoken about (a lot) in church while I was growing up, and even now in the new church I go to. But the concept of ‘faith’ is something I am just starting to get. I am not completely sure if it was faith that brought me to the finish line that October morning. But I’m growing more certain it was my introduction into what ‘faith’ means.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After a year battling my son’s cancer, I was helping to set up for a Moms to Moms sale with some of my friends who had been my pillars of strength. As we talked about my desire to play soccer again, one of them encouraged me and said she would help me start a woman’s over 30 team. She had never played, but she said she would try. Shortly after, we both started telling almost every woman we knew that we were starting a team and looking for players. A friend of a friend told this girl, Jen. Jen joined our team, and a few months into it Jen and I started meeting at the gym to work out. One early morning, we started talking about running a marathon. I still did not run at this point anything more than a 3 minute warm up before doing weights or short sprints on the soccer field. We decided that morning to run a marathon together. We started training for the training that week. It was February and we had to June to get into running shape to start the rigorous training running a marathon takes. She encouraged me, kept me going when I wanted to quit. She motivated me to get up early when I really didn’t want to. She forgave me when I couldn’t make it for one reason or another. We kept going. We crossed the finish line, holding hands. Looking back now, I have faith a higher power – along with Jen’s love and help, and a little of my own determination – got me to and across that finish line.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It takes faith to believe in the good in people, especially when I find disappointment and have to look past it. It takes faith to be patient and wait for what I have been longing for. It takes faith to love people who aren’t that certain about love, including myself. It takes faith that if I try to do something good in this world, it will actually make a difference.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">Sometimes my ability to keep faith fails me, and I don’t have faith in people who I should. And I fail them. And those times, I so appreciate my good friends and family who forgive me. But, I have also have tried to have faith in people who I shouldn't, and those were huge lessons that it still is taking time to heal from.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">It is a huge walk in faith that I will be able to do more than just provide for my children and myself while I pick up the pieces of my life after the last 5 years. I didn’t have this faith in myself, nor God, when I was younger. This time I have faith it will somehow get done.</span></span></div>
An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-76296886928120401112012-05-31T12:41:00.001-04:002018-11-19T15:29:38.494-05:00The Importance of Love -- for our Health<br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">I have this powerful memory of my (then) 7 year old son, in a hospital gown, with blood still stuck in his baby-fine sandy blond hair left from brain surgery earlier that week. It was dark outside and our family was gathered around him, trying to keep his spirits up as he fought the pain. Along with the monitors, creamy white walls and pastel privacy curtains, we were also surrounded by a ton of little stuffed animals and gifts from family, friends, church and even strangers. </span></span><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";"> </span></span><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">There, in the middle of his 5th floor hospital room, in a uncomfortably hard -- but sturdy -- chair I watched as my son struggle to sit upright for the first time since his surgery. He sat and started to read the cards his classmates made for him that someone had dropped off while he was sleeping. I will forever remember the happiness, love and the warmth I saw fill his tired soul as he read those simple handmade cards from his second grade classmates. One of the little girls even signed her name with 'Love, so-and-so'. In that moment the struggle to sit upright got a little less as he went on to read </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia";">(and giggled at) </span><span style="font-family: "georgia";">the jokes the boys wrote and the kind words from the rest of the girls. </span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">The cards and all other little mementos of positive thoughts, letting him know he was surround by love, were just as important to his healing as anything else we were doing. They gave him power I couldn't alone; the doctor's couldn't, nor could his dad alone. It was almost a years' worth of months that accumulated a collective effort to not just heal Kevin through modern medicine, but also through love. I believe it worked. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">Since then, I have believed strongly that love can heal physical ailments and mental anguish. And science is proving it (love it when really smart people prove me right). An article in Scientific American this past July talks about how healthy relationships increase survival up to 50%. It mentions that, "Social support has been linked to lower blood pressure, and a diverse collection of contacts is associated with better immune system functioning. The list continues to grow, she says, now encompassing other bodily processes such as wound healing and inflammation." </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">In a 2005 Newsweek article, Dr. Dean Ornish, author of The Spectrum also the founder and president of the Preventive Medicine Research Institute said, "… love and intimacy are at the root of what makes us sick and what makes us well. If a new medication had the same impact, failure to prescribe it would be malpractice. Connections with other people affect not only the quality of our lives but also our survival. Study after study find that people who feel lonely are many times more likely to get cardiovascular disease than those who have a strong sense of connection and community." </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">There is little control to how your social structure holds up in times of crisis. But what we do have control of is who we decide to be when someone we know is facing a crisis. The outreach and kindness of the community that we live in was also a huge lesson in how to react when I see others facing their times of trial. It is my tendency to want to keep to myself, mostly out of fear of saying something wrong or offending and a bit of fear of having to endure another painful loss. Coupled with it is also so hard for me not to be the shy girl. It takes every ounce of confidence I have to overcome the decades of being initially shy. Now more than ever I see the importance of overcoming this. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxGcyjFUTkGJZ6TzLtbUmGIDMXLyLWtNFYEHeifkP4PIefiaQ0RqCVmmGjc-ByaU_m1exY6KDTkltXWc8yD0_bRtYYBLS5JAIRXzoJ8FIDcTL-QWxbgo6Yj4zYx2zBAQvbcAG/s1600/1425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxGcyjFUTkGJZ6TzLtbUmGIDMXLyLWtNFYEHeifkP4PIefiaQ0RqCVmmGjc-ByaU_m1exY6KDTkltXWc8yD0_bRtYYBLS5JAIRXzoJ8FIDcTL-QWxbgo6Yj4zYx2zBAQvbcAG/s320/1425.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">Love can be simple and accepting. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">The point is that healthy, good, complex friendships and relationships are collectively a part of the happiness formula and a healthy life. There is an art to balancing and blending a life with other adults. Throw in some kids and we are knitting a colorful design. It seems to me, if it all is handled with enough compassion and understanding, sprinkled with just the right amount of independence and dependence that our relationships with others have the capability to extend our lives, to keep us, and our loved ones, living healthy…. maybe even greater than anything else we do to improve our health. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">I recently had a nightmare about one of my children drowning. I woke up still feeling the loss even though that child is the one who woke me up from that dream. (I can't say he isn't wearing a life jacket even when he takes a bath.... Just sort of kidding.) Loving anyone, even our own children, can make even the strongest of people feel vulnerable. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">There is an inherit risk when we give something (or fear the loss). But most especially when what is given is something as precious as the influential emotion, love. I think it is interesting studies show when we don't (wisely) take that risk and say, "What's wrong with getting hurt?" we actually hurt ourselves more in the long run. How ironic. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: "georgia";">Articles referenced in this post: <a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=relationships-boost-survival">http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=relationships-boost-survival</a><br /><a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9466931/site/newsweek/">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9466931/site/newsweek/</a><br /><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/01/AR2010080102508.html?sub=AR">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/01/AR2010080102508.html?sub=AR</a><br /><a href="http://www.sanluisobispo.com/2010/07/29/1231774/sexcetera-take-a-chance-on-love.html"><span style="color: #003399;">http://www.sanluisobispo.com/2010/07/29/1231774/sexcetera-take-a-chance-on-love.html#ixzz0vW36mmep</span></a></span></span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-22744271019796517422011-11-26T00:04:00.037-05:002012-04-22T04:19:24.149-04:00Imperfect, Fallible and Human<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and
despair but manifestations of strength and resolution. -- K. Gibran<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000166/" style="color: #70579d;">April Epner</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: I know what I did to you, to you in particular. Kinda worst nightmare kind of thing, right? I knew that. Even at the time I knew that. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/" style="color: #70579d;">Frank</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: What else? </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000166/" style="color: #70579d;">April Epner</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: I'll do it again, I will, I'll hurt you again and again. Not like that, you'd have to leave me if I hurt you like that. If we were together you would leave me if I hurt you like that again, wouldn't you? </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/" style="color: #70579d;">Frank</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: Yes. Yes, I would. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000166/" style="color: #70579d;">April Epner</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: Good. But I'll hurt you in other ways, little ways, I won't mean to but I will. And sometimes I will mean to. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/" style="color: #70579d;">Frank</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: This is quite an offer you've worked out. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000166/" style="color: #70579d;">April Epner</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: You'll hurt me too, you know. You'll hurt me and change on me, you might even leave me after you promise you won't, how about that? </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/" style="color: #70579d;">Frank</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: I wouldn't. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000166/" style="color: #70579d;">April Epner</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: But you might. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/" style="color: #70579d;">Frank</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: But I wouldn't. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000166/" style="color: #70579d;">April Epner</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: But... you might. </span><br />
<b style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/" style="color: #70579d;">Frank</a></b><span style="background-color: #faf9d1; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">: Yeah, I guess I might. </span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We are in the midst of the holiday season. It is a time for
gatherings with family and friends -- holiday dinners and parties, shopping -- all
of which typically requires lots social interaction. I chose the quote (above)
from the movie “Then She Found Me” because in the (somewhat awkward) scene
between Helen Hunt and Colin Firth, April's words depict what
happens naturally in the course of all close personal relationships; be it
friendships, family or romantic.
Sometimes letting go is the right decision when we find a person who is
not positive and supportive majority of the time. But,
sometimes, an understanding of natural
human tendency to be fallible softens the blow when others behavior, actions (or
mistakes) isn’t the most comfortable feeling in the moment and can cause our
autonomic nervous system (ANS) light up the fight or flight feeling. It is
those moments where not being primitive animals that automatically respond to
our biological impulses is important and let reasoning set in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">According to Dr. Daniel Amen “the people you spend time with
determine your longevity”. I attribute
my father’s stroke to the social stress he dealt with for decades, coupled with genetics. He did not have a spouse who was supportive
and loving for majority of his life, nor close friends or family to help ease
the problems him and my mother faced. I
am happy that seems to have now changed. Science has proven social isolation is as
dangerous as smoking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Positive social interaction requires understanding and an
ability to be benevolent to one another, and show it through our actions and
words. It is thought that our “feeling side” of our brain is the primitive part
of our brain and the rational part is the apart of the newly (relative to
millions of years) part of our brain. I find using science to help me understand
what maybe lying behind my loved ones behavior helps me step away from taking
it personal and empowers me to try react better. Oddly (or maybe not) science is helping me learn how to maintain
relationships through the sticky stuff; to stick it out as I -- and my loved ones -- each evolve, grow and change, as long as the relationships have a predominately positive foundation. Having a scientific understanding (via psychology
tests and functional MRI’s) of my son’s brain helps me and his teachers
cater his education to what we know his strengths and weaknesses are. We know
that he is near genius in vocabulary, but that his processing speed is on the
low end of average. This could cause him to come off as being lazy, when it is
really his brain catching up and it needs a little more time. He has an amazing way of communicating, but
when he is learning something new we know he needs more time than his average
peers to work on mastering it. I find this understanding helps me to be patient
when it might be more of a challenge to choose to do so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> As we are moving
through the holidays festivities it seems fitting to end this with a popular
verse from the bible:<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<h4 style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;">Love is patient, love is kind. It
does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><sup><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal;">5</span></sup><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;">It
does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it
keeps no record of wrongs.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><sup><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal;">6</span></sup><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;">Love
does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><sup><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal;">7</span></sup><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal;">It
always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. --</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">1 Corinthians 13 (NIV)</span></span></h4>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-5020463234755038972011-10-04T10:26:00.015-04:002013-03-07T02:21:22.989-05:00Raising Men: Compassion, Health and Conquering Chronic Disease<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8iMdM-e3StHN-_1GJq8qMtPDOTfZmnc6O2hZp74FqNbUtpz_K0RVI10c-zLhjUI9eG9OMREh6zPb_CxSh8fQavBFPrfMzf96-3yEVbCbvSX5ZTJw6OSxPd2M7kAuAgALWMxW/s1600/raceforthecure2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8iMdM-e3StHN-_1GJq8qMtPDOTfZmnc6O2hZp74FqNbUtpz_K0RVI10c-zLhjUI9eG9OMREh6zPb_CxSh8fQavBFPrfMzf96-3yEVbCbvSX5ZTJw6OSxPd2M7kAuAgALWMxW/s1600/raceforthecure2011.jpg" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had spent some of my spare time of the first 5 of months of 2011 organizing a team for the Race for the Cure and the day
was finally here. Almost 40 people; friends, friends of friends, and family had
come together to share a moment, to show solidarity against a disease that
touches more women each day. I have yet to be personally affected by the
disease, but this is my attempt of paying it forward for all the women who
surrounded and carried me and my family through the darkest days of my oldest
son’s cancer treatment.<i> </i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On that sunny warm
spring day in May, the typically almost desolate streets of the
Motor City were packed with 40,000 people. Men,
women and children of every race, size, and health level literally filled the
streets to come together for mostly women who face this terrible disease.<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we drove home from Detroit, a friend invited the team back to her house for a Breast Cancer Walk fundraiser she was
hosting at her home later that evening. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I entered my friends house, the sky was now dark and another
successful Race for the Cure was behind me. As the evening progressed I found a seat with a group of her coworkers sitting at her kitchen table discussing what had trandspired earlier. A white and grey-streaked haired yet youthful faced man, sitting down the table from me, asked something to the affect, “we (society) have no problem
coming together for women’s causes or children’s causes, but you would hardly
hear of such a thing for men and prostate cancer.” The conversation turned into
teaching our boys compassion for themselves and each other, while still encouraging sympathy for female and children issues -- typically known in politics as compassion issues, or social issues.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I find myself reflecting on
this question in my quiet moments, even now, months later. I am raising 3 boys who will someday be
men. I only get one chance to instill and
reinforce these important human values in them.<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That spring turned into summer quickly, and we were on vacation with the ocean waves coming in quick and hard; the August sky
foretold of the hurricane still a good distance south of where I played with my three sons along the Atlantic. For a moment, my attention was
diverted to a dad with two boys, one about the same age as my oldest (near 11) and the
other probably around 5. The dad was encouraging the oldest to push and shove
the younger one into the strong waves that were a result of the down coast hurricane. The younger child was clearly
frightened. And I, too, was concerned. I gave him an “are you serious?!?” glare
for a moment, he then said something about how he was making him stronger. I just shook my head and went back to playing with my children.
Stronger?!? Perhaps fearful, less compassionate and less trusting is what came to
my mind, but I kept my mouth shut.<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">According to the
Merriam-Webster Dictionary compassion is <span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-color: white;">the </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: white;">sympathetic</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/consciousness"><span style="background-color: white; text-decoration: none;">consciousness</span></a><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: white;">of others' distress together with a
desire to alleviate it. We all have
experienced emotional pain, or some form of suffering at some point. In </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">Dr. James Doty, MD
article in the Washington post this past March speaks about how, “</span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: white;">It has been stated many times that survival is of the
fittest, but when one reads Darwin closely this is not the case. Rather, the
more accurate statement, coined by Dacher Keltner, Ph.D. and other leading
social scientists, is “the survival of the kindest.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is thought that
compassion is the means of the genes protecting themselves and making sure they
made it into the next generation. Compassion is an important part of allowing our species to be
so great in number. Compassion is what allows us, as a species, to survive in times of struggle<i>. <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: white;">Dacher Keltner, professor of psychology at U of
C, Berkleley explains the biological basis for compassion, “…</span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">Take the loose association of glands, organs,
and cardiovascular and respiratory systems known as the autonomic nervous
system (ANS). The ANS plays a primary role in regulating our blood flow and
breathing patterns for different kinds of actions. For example, when we feel
threatened, our heart and breathing rates usually increase, preparing us either
to confront or flee from the threat—the so-called “fight or flight” response.
What is the ANS profile of compassion? As it turns out, when young children and
adults feel compassion for others, this emotion is reflected in very real
physiological changes: Their heart rate goes down from baseline levels, which
prepares them not to fight or flee, but to approach and sooth. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there’s oxytocin, a hormone that floats through the
bloodstream. Research performed on the small, stocky rodents known as prairie
voles indicates that oxytocin promotes long-term bonds and commitments, as well
as the kind of nurturing behavior—like care for offspring—that lies at the
heart of compassion. It may account for that overwhelming feeling of warmth and
connection we feel toward our offspring or loved ones.<i> </i>Indeed, breastfeeding
and massages elevate oxytocin levels in the blood (as does eating chocolate).
In some recent studies I’ve conducted, we have found that when people perform
behaviors associated with compassionate love—warm smiles, friendly hand
gestures, affirmative forward leans—their bodies produce more oxytocin. This
suggests compassion may be self-perpetuating: Being compassionate causes a
chemical reaction in the body that motivates us to be even more compassionate.” (see reference below for article site)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13.5pt;">Gail Underwood Parker, author of the blog '<a href="http://upbeatsanddownbeats.blogspot.com/2011/05/soapbox-hard-wired-for-compassion.html">Upbeats and Downbeats' </a> explains</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13.5pt;"><i>, "</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Sympathy is more than recognition. To me, empathy does not require more than dispassionately recognizing and understanding someone else's pain. Compassion is far more. Compassion means feeling, regretting that pain, and wishing to ease that pain. Empathy does not seem to require action, but compassion calls for, cries out for action."</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRE4KwlVMTI1sDKHGqIbsYTsK5D83J9vxPYtUBQnaBuEm4BfURoduhrqUo5ykzXva0c9Fk36WK1lwaNJvVCSf-X-0KI6Grr0aPI2rKKllsAcH-EVIhZJ2EGcz2ioaHNAtaOxyV/s1600/Vagus_nerves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRE4KwlVMTI1sDKHGqIbsYTsK5D83J9vxPYtUBQnaBuEm4BfURoduhrqUo5ykzXva0c9Fk36WK1lwaNJvVCSf-X-0KI6Grr0aPI2rKKllsAcH-EVIhZJ2EGcz2ioaHNAtaOxyV/s200/Vagus_nerves.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">When we experience compassion, our vagus nerve is activated. A well reacting vagus nerve is a good ticket our health. It calms us, it slows the heart rate and it </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">strengthen's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">our immune system. R</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">esearch is suggesting that compassion might be able to slow the aging process by lowering inflammation in the body. <a href="http://discovermagazine.com/2007/dec/can-we-cure-aging/article_view?b_start:int=0&-C=">Inflammation </a>is thought to be the precursor to many of our chronic diseases like diabetes, cancer, cardiovascular disease, etc. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 23px;"></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Compassion and empathy are innate within the human chemical makeup -- but some conditioned beliefs of communities and/or family culture drive many to mistrust and even at times have disdain for emotions like compassion, empathy and optimism<i>.</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0061733512?ie=UTF8" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">Kristin Neff, an associate professor of human development </a>at the University of Texas at Austin and a pioneer in research on self-compassion, says<span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">, “I found in my research that the biggest reason people aren’t more self-compassionate is that they are afraid they’ll become self-indulgent. <b style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">They believe </b>self-criticism is what keeps them in line. </span></span><span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Most people have gotten it wrong because our culture says being hard on yourself is the way to be.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">At the beginning of her paper on </span></span>The Development and Validation of a Scale to Measure Self-Compassion<span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border-width: 0px; margin: 0px; outline-width: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> the summary explains, "</span></span>Self-compassion entails being kind and understanding toward oneself in instances of pain or failure rather than being harshly self-critical; perceiving one’s experiences as part of the larger human experience rather than seeing them as isolating; and holding painful thoughts and feelings in mindful awareness rather than over-identifying with them. Evidence for the validity and reliability of the scale is presented in a series of studies. Results indicate that self-compassion is significantly correlated with positive mental health outcomes such as less depression and anxiety and greater life satisfaction. Evidence is also provided for the discriminant validity of the scale, including with regard to self-esteem measures." (available through Psychology Press)</span></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Compassion is sometimes thought of as a
women’s emotion. The health benefits that
a compassionate person reaps from the act of simply being can become apart of our society if we acknowledge its importance within us and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we encourage our youth toward it.</span></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still question how to show and teach my
young boys -- who will be men before I know it -- how to be compassionate
toward themselves and other males. I try to be aware of opportunities (daily) to encourage them to be understanding of each other and themselves. I try to be an example. Perhaps, in someway, it is selfish of me. I know this will improve their health, improve the communities they choose to settle in and protect the generations far beyond them. </span></span><br />
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am grateful for my dad who shows compassion by his constant drive to want to help, and for other men like Jeff a active volunteer from our local Camp Quality (a group that helps kids with cancer remember to be kids) and Mark who started Habitate for Hope with his wife and made it their life mission to help families facing a pediatric health crisis. These are just a few I can think of off the top of my head that stand out (in my social circles) as reminders that strong men do know how to be compassionate and I'm not raising weirdos, but heroes, if I encourage my sons to look to them, and other men like them, as examples. </span></span><br />
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope to impart on my children that their health and wellness also lie within how well they treat others and themselves.</span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ref: <a href="http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/the_compassionate_instinct/">http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/the_compassionate_instinct/</a></span></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><i>Picture of vagus from </i></span></span><a href="http://www.medicalook.com/human_anatomy/organs/Vagus_nerves.html">http://www.medicalook.com/human_anatomy/organs/Vagus_nerves.html</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=forget-survival-of-the-fittest">http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=forget-survival-of-the-fittest</a></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><a href="http://1womensjourney.blogspot.com/2011/07/view-from-handicap-section.html">http://1womensjourney.blogspot.com/2011/07/view-from-handicap-section.html</a></span></div>
An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-30340291217235704082011-08-31T23:43:00.017-04:002011-11-20T15:38:56.502-05:00Did You Know that January is Manuary - Men Grow Facial Hair Awareness Month?The list of the causes we should become aware of just the first month of the year is this long:<br />
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<ol>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Awareness
Month Awareness Month</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Be
On-Purpose Month, National</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Bird-Feeding
Months, National</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Celebration
of Life Month</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Creativity
Month, International - by Randall Munson</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Clean
Up Your Computer Month, National</span></li>
<li><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.disabled-world.com/artman/publish/article_1838.shtml" title="Constipation and its Effects"><span style="color: #1d79b9;">Constipation</span></a></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">awareness month,</span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">National
Drag History Month,</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">National
(Established by Logo T.V. to celebrate the history and role of Drag Queens in
the LGBT community.)</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Financial
Wellness Month</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Get
Organized Month</span></li>
<li><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.disabled-world.com/disability/types/vision/glaucoma/" title="Glaucoma Information"><span style="color: #1d79b9;">Glaucoma</span></a></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">Awareness Month,
National</span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Hot
Tea Month, National</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Mailorder
Gardening Month, National - according to the Mailorder Gardening Association</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Manuary
- men grow facial hair</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Meetings
History Month, National</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Mentoring
Month, National (USA)</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">National
Clown College Month</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Oatmeal
Month</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Poverty
in America Awareness Month, National - according to the Catholic Campaign for
Human</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Development</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Radon
Action Month, National - US Environmental Protection Agency</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Self-Help
Group Awareness Month - according to the Mental Health Clearinghouse</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Skating
Month, National - according to the U.S. Figure Skating Association</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Volunteer
Blood Donor Month, National</span></li>
</ol>
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<span class="apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">Read more:</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.disabled-world.com/disability/awareness/awareness-dates.php#ixzz1WfKTdRtY"><span style="color: #003399;">http://www.disabled-world.com/disability/awareness/awareness-dates.php#ixzz1WfKTdRtY</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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was a good idea in its original form otherwise it wouldn’t have gone so
viral…all of this monthly awareness stuff.
I need to note that I am not trying to belittle the diseases or the
causes that groups are trying to educate us on, some of them are important. For example, it’s important
for a woman to be able to do a self-exam. Early dection is important to
teach the public, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;"> it saves lives</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">. Manuary, well… I
appreciate the snicker at the idea when I read it on the list, and I am glad whatever group, or person,
thought of that one, are not pushing it too hard. (I don’t know if this list is complete, so if
your cause is not up there it because I am not being through, it is nothing
personal.)</span></div>
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St. Jude infomericals that were on TV (years ago before Kevin was
diagnosed). I tried once to watch one and
thought to myself this is too depressing and turned it off. I tuned out what eventually became my son’s
saving grace. I’m glad other people didn’t make the same choice I did.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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now live in a world where I see other moms post on Facebook about going to
their child’s grave to visit, I hear about the newly diagnosed and those who
have lived, but also live with the late effects caused by such a terrible
disease. This is my normal. I never
imagined it would happen to one of my children. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0SfjeoAoY38DR5PnumXPcwa0yTM2NJkRrAsJWg0pqK6PcniYTmRGpTgRgpWpSn2KsBshnorv7KAu2R9JzJ5ZCkMNvDQqljBYVs91FQcc-6c0RAiQy-0yehwz6R1sxjSZTa0o/s1600/k_stjude.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0SfjeoAoY38DR5PnumXPcwa0yTM2NJkRrAsJWg0pqK6PcniYTmRGpTgRgpWpSn2KsBshnorv7KAu2R9JzJ5ZCkMNvDQqljBYVs91FQcc-6c0RAiQy-0yehwz6R1sxjSZTa0o/s400/k_stjude.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Today
I met more newly diagnosed as we waited for my son's follow-up appointments at St. Jude. As
we waited for blood draws for labs, we met one little boy the same age
of my youngest who was diagnosed with Leukemia on my oldest’s birthday. His mom is
9 months pregnant. My heart just sinks because
I have a clue as to how hard the journey is going to be. Treatment is tough and
scary. We, parents of kids with cancer, agree to fill our children with poisons, stuff we would
normally call </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">poison </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">control for if they ingested, to save our children. We
walk with our children and hold their little hands through hell, praying they
make it out alive.</span></div>
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<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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is hard not to cry at the end of the day here, despite all the amazing things St. Jude does to try to soften the blow. It is a terrible reality of
life. And I hate more people are experiencing it. Cancer knows no socioeconomic status, it
knows no one faith or church, it sometimes does single out one community if
they don’t protect their environment, but it is completely clueless about race.
<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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brings me to my quandary. September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness
Month. In a way, it seems like one more
thing to fill the air with, something that can be easily tuned out or turned
off. I used to do it. It was too sad. So I have asked myself what is the point
of making people aware of such a terrible thing? These are the answers I have
come up with:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-PyHNhvM-g71_BQkR7JESmiB77UnQWc6E3BgUFTKftijCCsHlczICSOykzogOgckTTiGtxLaB_bP7mEb3sDVWPalqxuX1YN3UGPk3YSJvjfF1rb7auM7MhnrxeS5S5KRkX2t/s1600/sept_cancer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-PyHNhvM-g71_BQkR7JESmiB77UnQWc6E3BgUFTKftijCCsHlczICSOykzogOgckTTiGtxLaB_bP7mEb3sDVWPalqxuX1YN3UGPk3YSJvjfF1rb7auM7MhnrxeS5S5KRkX2t/s200/sept_cancer.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<ol>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">If you find yourself or someone you know facing
cancer with a newly diagnosed child (God forbid), hopefully the stories of
others will have stuck and help you make educated decisions.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">When elections come around, if you understand
what is happening (I believe strongly there is a connection between environment
and cancer, in some cases) you can vote wisely.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">This is our future. It might seem like just my
kid, but it’s not. It’s one of the leading killers of children. And the kids who live through it are left with <a href="http://curechildhoodcancer.ning.com/page/long-term-effects">late effects</a>.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;"> I know of enough kids who have died from
the disease, or the diseases they get as a result of treatment. The earlier cancer is caught the better chance a child has. Parents need to be aware it can happen and its typically the last thing your doctor will look for when a child starts showing symptoms. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">Because I believe in my son’s vision for cancer
to someday be treated like the flu; you take some medicine, your sick for a few
days and then you go on with life as normal. This won't become a reality with out funding for research.</span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 13px;">I hate cancer, but I especially hate it when a
kid gets it.</span></li>
</ol>
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Today we also met a man who is participating in a St. Jude survivor research project. He had cancer when he was 11. That was 23 years ago. As we both waited for our appointments in the waiting area for physical therapy, we discussed life and moving on. He was a very handsome well spoken man that looked completely normal with his jeans on. His wife, who sat next to him was bubbly, happy and appeared very supportive. But as he told me his story I learned one of his legs is a prosthetic. He lost it to cancer at the age of 11. Bittersweet, but meetings like this sometimes fill me with hope and sometimes make me so thankful for research and improvements in treatment.<br />
<br />
A couple years ago I met a young man who had had the same type of brain tumor as my son, only 20+ years ago. He was obviously mentally challenged. As I spoke to his mom I learned that the dosages that they used to give medulloblastoma kids were much higher then and caused some mental retardation. My son did not make it out without consequence, but nothing as sever as that mother and son have to live with.<br />
<br />
I am so thankful for the improvements made to treatment. We must keep moving forward as the invasive cancer rate for children has increased 29% over the last 20 years. Rare? Hardly feels like it to me. I wish it was more rare; I shouldn't be meeting so many people in my own community affected by childhood cancer.<br />
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So I will do my part to raise awareness this month. You can tune it out or participate. I was forced not to tune it out any more. </div>
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<br /></div>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-80954369765031367462011-08-14T11:11:00.073-04:002022-05-04T21:03:29.216-04:00Pro-life, Pro-Choice and Parenthood: A Multidimensional Subject that Should Drive More Social Issue Discussions<div>
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<a href="http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2011/ccp-kissling/"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: blue;">Note: This entry was inspired by Frances Kissling's interview on NPR's On Being.</span></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">It’s my oldest child’s birthday. This 7 pound 2 ounce -- 3 week early baby-- is the baby boy that made me a mom for the first time. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">He wasn't a planned pregnancy, but he was wanted, a choice made on the fly and one that has enriched my life and made my life (and me) better. </span> I went to the doctor after being sick and throwing up for 3 weeks. The doctor asked if he could do a pregnancy test. I agreed while openly expressing (in the privacy of the exam room) that there was no way this blood test would come back positive; I didn't feel I was ready to be a mom and I was on birth control that had worked so far. Though recently married, but I was unsure of my marriage, very unsure of myself, and pretty convinced that both my new husband and I had not married the right person for ourselves. In my mid 20’s, so old enough but much younger than I wanted to be to start having children; I did own a very small place of my own -- but a child was not a part of my then-current plan. When the doctor called and told me I was pregnant me, he gingerly asked about discussing termination. I declined. The nurturing part of me already kicked in the moment I learned he was growing inside of me. I was going to see to it that this child was protected and cared for the best I could figure out. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">I had grown up in a household where topics like this were discussed openly in the conservative backdrop of a Mormon family. This little person, who I did not know yet, was here in the physical world in my beliefs. I had always valued life; I had experimented with vegetarianism in my late teens and early twenties because I didn't enjoy eating the flesh from another living animal. Yet the people who were close to me convinced me I was wrong and that being vegetarian was a hassle and was not healthy.... in their meat-eating world. I went back to doing what I did best, trying to make those around me happy and silencing my own young voice.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">Lots of people come to the doorstep of parenthood in their own way, with their own perspective and beliefs. For me, being the oldest of my 4 siblings and having to babysit a lot -- sometimes for days at a time -- formed my thoughts about the demands of parenthood. I didn’t have a close knit extended family to offer a child, something I feel is very important. I saw parenthood as a very difficult job that required a lot of resources, some of which we don’t get to choose and can’t buy with money. We are either born with those extra resources, kind of have it or don’t have it at all. I fell between the first two categories. I understood from taking care of my younger siblings that children are amazing beings that deserve the very best that we can give them. When I found out I was pregnant, I considered adoption, -- as I was thinking about my lack of preparedness for this, I questioned if adoption would be the unselfish thing to do, but my new husband was not onboard with that idea. He was determined that we would just figure it out. My dad encouraged me to have faith, and I began to believe that -- though I didn’t have a plan for this--it would somehow work out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">August 2000 my first son entered my world and I have never been so in love (except when his younger brothers came into the world later on). I held him the first 24 hours, rarely putting him down, amazed by this little life that now was in my care. I have done my best to love, care and protect him as best as I can while navigating this world without my own mother to guide me through. I appreciate my own father, who was once was willing to reject me, his oldest daughter, to please my mother, yet in the end he did not turn his back on me and has since remained an active part of mine and my children’s lives until the most recent couple of years. It really does take a village to help teach and guide a child to be able to understand and navigate this world as an adult successfully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">My choice to keep my child changed my life in profound ways that cannot be measured in monetary gain or any other very obvious measure, only in who I was before and who I have now become. I have held all three of my children on the day of their birth in awe and respect of the life they inhibit and it is my love for them that sometimes pushes me to be better myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">All mothers and fathers have limits as to how much they have to give; how many children they are equipped to care for. And parenthood does leave an unprepared (even sometimes prepared) woman or man in a position that can lead to vulnerable situations, for both the parent and the children. It is well known in my family that my mother wanted a small family because that was all she felt capable of taking care of, and my father wanted a large family. My parents were well educated super Christian middle class. I believe my dad truly wanted a large family, but I think some of the reasons behind it were due to the religious and social pressures. My mother felt the same pressures and ignored her internal voice. My father got a large family, and to put it bluntly – my mother lost her marbles – literally and seriously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">This is where I struggle with religion, culture and societies that encourage all to procreate without the means to educate all to think critically. Or the mental stability to be a good person, or the morale judgement to act with compassion. It is my belief that not everyone is meant to be a parent. School teachers have names for children who are “Parentally Challenged”. To me, sometimes "procreation for all" is a way to spread an ideology, a religion, but also dangerous when groups of people are encouraged not to listen to their own voices about their own limitations, and be honest about who they really are. This leaves open to the fact that children will be born into difficult challenges most will not overcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">All this leads me to this odd intersection. It is hard for me to comprehend why would a socially conservative movement be anti- social programs; if we want to protect an unborn child yet throw the mother and the baby out after the birth?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #444444;">It seems that are few issues are as complicated or intimate. We have to be honest what brings a girl or woman to making the abortion choice. It is a fact some girls and women are being abused by husbands and boyfriends, some are being pressured to have sex by boyfriends, peers and much older boys and men, some are not educated about birth control (or do not feel that is an option), along with pressure to have abortions by the fathers of the babies, some face their own uncertainty about themselves as young teen mothers already in difficult living circumstances, some want to finish school, live in poverty, lack opportunity to adequately care for a family and for others it is their own demons be it drug addictions or abusive personalities, mental illness. Here's what I learned: sometimes life is too messed up to bring a baby into it and we, as a society, don't have the social safe guards to catch majority of the girls or women who find themselves in one or many of these situations nor the children brought into the situation.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #444444;">As of right now, I believe life starts within weeks of conception. I understand, yet struggle, with the idea that all life is not equal. I get the idea, but I internally struggle with the argument that a life that has the faculty to survive outside of the womb might be of more importance than the one that cannot live without its mother’s womb. But I detest the fact that after that child is born into poverty --or difficult situations -- our society tends to shun that young life and his parent(s) for their poor choices in life, their limited education, etc. There’s a disconnect in that thought process that makes my stomach churn because this ideology is forming our society, our public policies. It is affecting real lives not just hypothetical lives that don’t exist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #444444;">My belief of where life starts does not mean I am right - none of us truly know - but it is the driving belief that encourages progressiveness and a belief in a mixed capitalist society as being the ideal goal; yet I find myself in the midst of a family and community that seems<span class="apple-converted-space"> both </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Economic_liberalism">economically liberal</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Economic_conservatism">fiscally conservative</a><span class="MsoHyperlink"> </span> while being socially conservative. I know we need to have the social programs for those in difficult places yet trying to make what some would call the “right, yet difficult decision”. And sometimes having an abortion is the right thing to do. And no one has a right to hand a woman more responsibility than she is ready for. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #444444;">I still believe very deeply in the sanctity of life beginning within 18 weeks of conception. I was given a choice to terminate my pregnancy, but I didn't. I knew then I would not, though going through that choice has increased my compassion for others who do.</span></div>
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Some women are going to feel abortion is the only choice, no matter what anybody else says about it. If abortion is not safe (and legal), many of these women will die from that choice. I am not cold and callus to say either death is okay. Life is difficult and sometimes life forces one to face difficult decisions. For some it is being told their cancer is progressive and having to choose to pursue treatment or not to, some parents have to make those decisions for children they have chosen to have. I do not categorically support every woman's possible reason for getting an abortion; I especially do not support late term abortions or the chilling stories I have read about babies being born alive and then killed. It is these instances it is important we make adoption easier, make it easier to give a young life a safe home when the child is not to be with the birth mother. Not everyone should be a parent. As a society we should empower women to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">understand </span><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">their sexuality </span><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">as the beautiful thing it can be</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">, not throw it away. Women should be encouraged to educate themselves throughout life. We all should choose our relationships carefully. This is a big complicated issue, I refuse to see as one that can be contained in singularity; it is a multidimensional issue that begs for congruity, </span>internal and external consistency<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"> in thought and practice, especially in the midst of many politically driven social issues that sprout from the birth of a child in a less than favorable situation.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2011/05/emotion_reason_and_policy#.TkfK7EltJFw.blogger"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: black;">Emotion, reason and policy: Thinking liberally about feeling | The Economist</span></a><br />
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An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-20718094809370496772011-07-13T00:46:00.014-04:002011-07-26T15:40:08.942-04:00The View from the Handicap Section - “The Roseto Effect”<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGO7THhJsfjG2lx0P1Tm8rCJyH7uMy_TTgLz3mgFuZ-gecm39YhXWa89wf3IBDCK3kj6ZBeWh1dx8vejByDeeV1iLu505MuS4nIkYsjD1MkxQIyg5CeDteb_Dti9Lv04dB03c/s1600/1096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGO7THhJsfjG2lx0P1Tm8rCJyH7uMy_TTgLz3mgFuZ-gecm39YhXWa89wf3IBDCK3kj6ZBeWh1dx8vejByDeeV1iLu505MuS4nIkYsjD1MkxQIyg5CeDteb_Dti9Lv04dB03c/s320/1096.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">4th of July weekend 2010, I was in the handicap section in front of the orchestra accompanying my father who recently turned 60 and also had a stroke earlier in the year-- which gave us (almost) front row seats. To this day, my dad still fights with his own neurological connections in his brain to be able to move his left side. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After the music and fireworks to celebrate our nations independence concluded, I pushed my father’s wheelchair forward through the crowd to the exit- I found it impossible not to notice effects of chronic disease as it really did surround me literally at that moment.<span style="color: black;"> </span>The stark reality of the health struggles of majority of Americans was, to me, like a horror scene from a scary movie. But here I could not close my eyes as I typically would in the movie theater.<span style="color: black;"> </span>There had to be at least a 150 people moving slowly through the crowd to the waiting golf carts to transport the ill and handicap and their loved ones. These were all people facing the similar health crises as my family is facing. As I continued to push my father's wheel chair, looking over the head of the man, who when standing towers over me, the man I used to watch run and work out when I was a child, the man whom first introduced me to weight lifting and running-- was struggling to just to walk a short distance and now be considered handicap, it brought a heaviness that knocks the wind out of my breath still. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: black;">When I started speaking out more about the importance of diet, I also had a theory that diet is only 1/4 of the complete package of a healthy, vibrant life. I was in the infancy stage of trying to get a handle on what it truly means to be “healthy”. As I looked, read, and talked to more people, I found I was not alone in my “theory”. There are doctors and researchers who already know/knew and have done the research (why don’t more on the ground, in the trenches Doctors know this?). </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dr. Dean Ornish is a huge proponent that diet is a factor but only one of the many components that help maintain health. In his latest book, Spectrum he outlines 4 categories to health - what you eat, how you respond to stress, activity and love and support.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: black; line-height: normal;">In one of his books, Malcolm Gladwell talks about the “<strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">The Roseto Effect</span></strong><strong>”</strong>. To summarize, in 1966, in Roseto, a small Pennsylvania town, where the inhabitants ate what I would call “grandma’s cooking” (it was typically fried in lard), they <span class="apple-style-span">smoked and drank, spending their days in hard, hazardous labor</span>. <span class="apple-style-span">But the people in this town seemed nearly immune to cardiovascular disease (CVD) and other chronic diseases. The multi-generational study found that “mutual respect and cooperation contribute to the health and welfare of a community and its inhabitants, and that self- indulgence and lack of concern for others exert opposite influences”. These people died of heart attacks at half the national rate all because they cared about one another. They took the time to talk to one another, supported and educated their youth together and they thrived on the sense of community and secureness of knowing they were all in it as a whole. </span></span><span style="line-height: normal;">Sociologist John Bruhn nearly 50 years after said,<b> </b></span>“There was no suicide, no alcoholism, no drug addiction, and very little crime.<span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>They didn't have anyone on welfare.<span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>Then we looked at peptic ulcers.<span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>They didn't have any of those either.<span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>These people were dying of old age.<span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>That’s it.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: #121212;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think the policies and leadership of our government set the tone for our society. It sets the tone for how we treat one another. It was one of the <a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/335886/the_history_of_roseto_a_small_historic.html?cat=16">original founders of Roseto, PA </a>( or google 'Roseto Affect') that set the tone for that community that lasted for decades, generations--leading them to have significantly less disease than the rest of our country. If we believe that we only need to look out for ourselves, as in the words of Ayn Rand, philosopher and writer, “that I swear, by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.” we are guaranteeing a life full of watching neighbors and loved ones deal with illness. Just a basic biology and psychology class will teach that our babies die without love, support and so do children and adults. We cannot become 'something' without people who believe in us combined with our own effort. Those who believe that we need only look out for ourselves are short selling out our descendants, and possibly humanity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: #121212;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was just a moment, a rare moment as I was exiting a community event, when the realities of how many people who are living through their disease, diseases that are preventing them from living fully and vibrantly, diseases that could have been prevented if we just had taken the time to care enough to understand the human in humanity and ensured that our policies and practices protected the human condition, and cared enough about future generations to make the choices that protect them. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: #121212;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As I have watched chronic disease affect so many people I care about; from neighbors, to loved ones, even my own young son, I've had to really examine my life, my views, and my political views. I find myself advocating for a healthier culture and society. It may sound impossible, especially for a country like the United States where chronic disease is so rampant, where the idea of medical care for everyone, workers rights, decent wages, vacation time, work/life balance and basic respect for life, family and protecting each other may seem threatening especially by those who have come to believe the rhetoric that these ideals are "socialist", but I have to believe it is not. Just a look to <a href="http://www.forbes.com/2009/05/05/world-happiest-places-lifestyle-travel-world-happiest.html">Denmark </a>, and their <a href="https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/da.html">mixed capitalist economy</a>, and I know its not impossible, just a long shot.</span></div>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-19704437134048446132011-04-19T14:04:00.009-04:002011-11-26T00:19:47.575-05:00What Does Epistemology Mean?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Note: My goal is to get this post out in 15 minutes or less. So please excuse typo's, incorrect punctuation, etc. All of which I know I still do, even when I edit and spend an hour writing something.</span><br />
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Epistemology. It was a few years ago, a couple of weeks into my first winter semester back in college, when my English Comp II teacher said that word. Here I am sitting in English and he is speaking Greek AND expecting me to understand it. According to the Standford Encyclopedia of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">Philosophy it is, "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">the study of knowledge and justified belief".</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">Epistemology is what this blog is about. I am in search of understanding. Are my belief's about health, wellness, and being a decent person on this planet right? -- is what I think, right, wrong, right for right now, completely wrong? Are they imposing on other's freedom's, happiness? Or contributing to my own (or other's) demise, ability to get good employment, etc? Is what I believe (thus motivating my actions) good and allowing me to better myself and enable those around me to do well also? Because one of my foundational beliefs is we are all connected in some way or form. It maybe not be obvious right now. But we live on one planet, all breath air and probably affect each other more than we could, or world, or care to acknowledge.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">I appreciate the reminder this almost 20 minute "talk" gave me. I have had discussions, like I typical enjoy to do, with my peers about current affairs and our perspective views about them. But one my thoughts might have been wrong. Maybe the U.S. population is living longer. To me, with all of the disease, what I see happening in my community, and in my own family, it is a hard to see that as reality. But according to the U.S. Census we are living longer. According </span><a href="http://repository.upenn.edu/psc_working_papers/13/" style="line-height: 22px;">to this paper we are not</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">. Huh. I don't know. Honestly too tired to put any more energy towards it, or investigate which is actually right. Maybe they both are. Because we are all, in someway, living in <a href="http://discovermagazine.com/1994/jun/quantumconscious380/?searchterm=quantum%20biology">multiple realities</a> - in our own individual perspectives and experiences giving our eyes its own individual perspective of reality.<br />
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</div>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-86089819721752787192010-11-19T19:44:00.005-05:002010-11-19T20:37:16.241-05:00Rachel's Vegan Taco/Chili<span xmlns="">I was working on trying a raw veggie/fruit week and the cold weather got to me. I'm pretty sure I was born in the wrong state. And somehow I have yet to leave this frozen tundra. </span><br />
<span xmlns=""> So I made tacos because what else warms up a cold body better? Okay, I could think of a few other things, but I am not spending my whole day at the gym (as much as I would like to). A spicy taco made life a little bit warmer for a few minutes. </span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><i>Note: this could also be put in the slow cooker in the morning and you can come home to a chili in the evening</i>. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><b>Veggie Taco (or Chili)<br />
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1 chopped zucchini <br />
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1 chopped yellow squash<br />
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(Chopped carrots optional – cook longer if adding carrots)<br />
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3/4 to 1 cup of fresh salsa<br />
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¼ a cup chopped fresh cilantro<br />
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1 can of rinsed and drained red kidney beans<br />
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1 can of rinsed and drained black beans<br />
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½ packet of Trader Joes taco seasoning or equivalent seasoning packet<br />
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¼ - 1 cup of water or vegetable broth – use your judgment if your making chili or taco's <br />
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Throw everything in a pot, stir occasionally over medium heat.<br />
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NOTE: Eyeball the water (or broth) to make sure you have enough so nothing burns.<br />
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Cook on stove top for approximately 15 minutes or until it seems done to you.<br />
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I add Agar-Agar to thicken it towards the end.<br />
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Oh – almost forgot<br />
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This is the vegan 'cheese'. It is soy and casein free.<br />
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</span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-52698167202408605812010-11-02T03:20:00.013-04:002011-08-28T13:58:31.041-04:00When Love and Determination Wins<span xmlns="">This morning I was listening to an iTunes <a href="http://deimos3.apple.com/WebObjects/Core.woa/Feed/yale.edu.1899804133.01900015847">U podcast about Democracy. The Yale Professor was discussing Rousseau's social contract</a> and it had me thinking about all of the crazy messages we all get blasted with at election time, especially all the talk about the constitution lately. And, I did think about writing a personal analysis of history. <br />
<br />
Then my afternoon happened. Shortly after lunch my ex-husband and I had a meeting at the school to go over our son's I.E.P with his teacher and resource room teacher. His <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Individualized_Education_Program">IEP (Individualized Education Plan)</a> was put in place upon his return from cancer treatment. It is a plan that has acted as a vehicle to help him with the cognitive problems and deficits resulting from his brain surgery and treatment. Kevin missed all of 2<sup>nd</sup> grade and the beginning of 3<sup>rd</sup> grade.</span><br />
<br />
<span xmlns=""> I am not sure if I can even adequately describe the experience I want to share here.<br />
<br />
The backstory before Kevin's diagnosis:<br />
<br />
Kevin's dad and I started the divorce process when Kevin was 6 months old. We both have had to make compromises to give Kevin the best that we can. We have had to learn to work past hurt feelings and learn to work together in our own ways. It isn't always pretty but we have figured it out. When I married Kevin's stepfather, Mike, he was happy and eager to accept responsibility for sharing in the effort to raise Kevin. We all have our quirks, we all have our strengths and we all have our weaknesses. <br />
<br />
So fast-forward to the time shortly after Kevin's diagnosis and brain surgery. I was an emotional wreck, as probably most mom's would be finding out that their child has cancer and requires some pretty scary treatment. I was busy negotiating and learning the hospital system as quickly as possible while trying to still care for an infant and trying to spend each moment I could by Kevin's bedside. Kevin's dad still had work to balance and he did the graveyard shift majority of nights while Kevin was at the Children's Hospital. Kevin's step-dad and I shared daytime duties some overnights when Eric needed a break, typically overlapping. As we fell into our groove, as the shock wore off, one afternoon I watched Kevin's step-dad reading to him and saw how it calmed him down. His aunts read to him when they came to sit by his bedside, his grandmothers, his grandfathers. Kevin starting going through book after book, probably enjoying the familiar voices carry his thoughts far away from a strange nightmare of a situation into whatever make believe world resided in those books. <br />
<br />
Kevin doesn't remember much from the 9 months of treatment and he doesn't remember much from the months shortly after that. Even though we tried to continue his education the best we could – with weekly visits from a private teacher – I don't really think much stuck. But Kevin hasn't been a wimp either. He has worked hard to overcome and catch up. His dad and I have spent hours working with him, we've hired tutors. The same that we are doing still with the motor coordination we are still working on with him.<br />
<br />
At Kevin's I.E.P. today Kevin's teacher pointed out something I had never grasped in my somewhat frantic effort to try to make sure Kevin still had a future – now in 5<sup>th</sup> grade Kevin is doing grade level work - amazing! The only thing he requires is a trip to the resource room to take some tests, at his discretion. He is allowed extra time for his tests, but from the report today he isn't requiring the extra time as much. The teacher pointed out Kevin basically skipped all of 2<sup>nd</sup> grade and apart of 3<sup>rd</sup> and caught up by 5<sup>th</sup> grade. That took my breath away….. because he has. <br />
<br />
In my score sheet for Kevin, love and Kevin's determination gets a million points and cancer gets 1. Take that cancer!<br />
<br />
In my Danish-heritage induced tendency toward optimism, I have to think that if a bunch of adults (ex-husbands, ex-in-laws, new in-laws, family, friends, teachers, strangers, etc.), some of who according to society norms are supposed to dislike each other, are able to shun "normal" and work amazingly well together (I think my ex-husbands dad is one of the best peacemakers I know) to take care of one sick child – I ask what could our country do if we only lived up to our capability to look out for one another? </span><br />
<br />
<span xmlns="">I also can't help but mention, if we can all put our differences aside to help one child overcome a terrible disease, I know its on a much larger scale, but why can't our country do a better job of coming together for the good of those still unemployed? How about for those facing cancer without health insurance? For those who lose their health insurance in the midst of a health crisis?</span><br />
<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">I see such contradictions in some groups where they are the first to volunteer and help; sometimes those groups are the first to vote down legislation that would allow everyone access to health care and help make our country much more economically competitive with majority of developed countries. <br />
</span><span xmlns="">I may see the world differently than most; I have seen kids suffer terribly, I've watched parents lose their children in very painful deaths that can take months, I almost lost mine this way. I also have seen the amazing power of community spirit. In honor of what those children have to go through, it is with their fighting spirit in mind, I hope to leave this world a little better and bring a different perspective to the conversation.<br />
<br /><br />
</span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-21774181859182516472010-10-03T16:12:00.009-04:002011-11-24T15:33:00.913-05:00Your Brain’s Capacity Limits, Dopamine, and Food<span xmlns=""></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I am fascinated by the marvelous transmission system that our nervous system, </span>including<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> our brain and neurotransmitters, is. Typically, the internal processes seamlessly forms that which we are throughout our daily lives are. The orbitofrontal cortex, located just above your eyes (light blue in the graphic below), is an important brain region for the processing of rewards and punishments, a qualification for the complex yet flexible emotional and social behavior which has contributed to the evolutionary success of humans. </span></span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">But first I have a complaint. While reading science and psychology articles this week about dopamine and how our bodies have been made to signal pleasure to our brain I detected a removed tone about the "other". It is often "the obese" or "the addictive" people that are referred to. To me, it sounds dangerously <a href="http://www.shrinkrapradio.com/feed.xml"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;">elitist</span></a>. Perhaps it is the style to which science is written for journals and publications; but I take issue with it because it also pointlessly segregates. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Biologically, it is this, our attraction to sex and high calorie foods that has kept our species going through the ages. Some of us are more susceptible than others but, especially when it comes to food majority of us are prone to over-indulging. (Typically, people with damage to the orbitofrontal cortex have a harder time disengaging from impulsive behavior</span>.)</span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">And these statistics suggest we are all susceptible:<br />
</span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><a href="http://www.sciencecentric.com/news/boilingpoint-10060201-cancer-deaths-are-projected-double-by-2030.html"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; text-decoration: underline;">Cancer deaths are projected to double in the next two decades. A report issued by the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC) says that by 2030, there will be almost 21.4 million new cases diagnosed annually and that there will be over 13.2 million deaths from cancer.</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"> (Science Centric. Web. 2010)</span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In the</span><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"> 2006 American Cancer Society (ACS) Guidelines on Nutrition and Physical Activity <i><b>one third of more than 500,000 cancer deaths each year can be attributed to diet and physical activity habits</b></i>. (Kushi, et al 254) …hum…seems like we need a wakeup call…that "other" person is the majority of us.<br />
</span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px;">What about the alarming rise in instances of cardiovascular disease, diabetes and other autoimmune diseases. (HELLO!?!?!)</span></span><br />
<h2>
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Invisible Person</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcr97r1cOLbrswZLlYle9WN2HJWzRmlMnNyh0kJFGQCCJXGM6KwlMMFsnFtpmntnLdTB6Vma4_4C8TQEW71NXDaP510ZgUbF1AQoI1FlH5tz5XE5IoY3ZhhLmO20dIakGPU1Pw/s1600/belly_kevin_happy_mommy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Well, I am done talking about the invisible person. I am going to throw myself into the group of "other". I love my chocolate chip cookies and controlling food impulses can be challenging for me. I have been known to eat a whole plateful of cookies on days I feel overwhelmed and lack impulse control. I gained 60-ish pounds with each of my 3 pregnancies. I was also raised with a mother who told me that it was highly likely I would someday be overweight too. And she was right. The genetics for being overweight lie within my DNA. I got to experience it for the 9 months my weight went up and the 9 (or maybe more) months I worked to get it off - three times. One side note about each of my pregnancies, I did eat more meat and processed food during those times. I wonder if my brain was low on dopamine during this huge hormonal shift?</span></span><br />
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<h2>
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Programed to be Open to Change<br />
</span></span></h2>
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">There is hope. We do know that just because the genetic code for something such as obesity, cancer, diabetes, etc. lie within our DNA molecules does not mean that our bodies will express (or turn on) that gene. It is about choices, sometimes our choices and sometimes our reaction to other people's choices that affect our lives. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"> One somewhat new science finding - one that gives me hope - is neuroplasticity (aka cortical re-mapping) which is the thought that the brain is malleable; that the brain has the ability to change as a result of experience. It takes place in the lateral orbitofrontal cortex. It is here we evaluate negative things, which may lead us to a change in behavior.</span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">The realization that preferences are something that can be hard to free ourselves perhaps is the first step to making better choices in the long run. Likewise, understanding that our brains have a capacity limit is also important.<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">The Limits of Self Control<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Science journalist and author of <i>How We Decide</i>, Jonah Lehrer, during a 2009 interview on NPR told Terri Gross:<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">"…. we should definitely be conscious of the fact that we have limited machines, that our brain isn't omnipotent and that it can only take in so much information at any one time. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">One of the studies I talk about in the book concerns a study done by a Stanford psychologists who - they had two groups of people. One group they had memorize a two-digit number; the other group they had memorize a seven-digit number. Then they marched these two groups down the hall and gave them a choice between two snacks. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">One snack was a rich, gooey slice of chocolate cake. The other snack was a responsible fruit salad. The people who memorized a two-digit number were twice as likely to choose the fruit salad as the people who memorized the seven-digit number, who were twice as likely to choose the chocolate cake. And the reason is that those extra five digits - doesn't seem like very much information at all, just five extra numbers - so overwhelmed the prefrontal cortex that there wasn't enough processing power leftover to exert self-control. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">So that gives us a sense of just how limited in capacity our brain actually is and I think points to the fact that we should absolutely be aware of these limitations. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">So that doesn't necessarily mean, you know, you have to block out information and never use Google. I think it just means that we should be aware of this and that if you've had a hard day at work or if you're trying to - you know, if you just spent all morning on a crossword puzzle, then be aware that your willpower's going to be a little bit weaker, that especially these rational faculties of the brain are very limited in capacity."<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">For me, it helps to understand the biology of what is causing me to go back for yet another chocolate chip cookie even when I am full.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">In May of 2009 host, Terri Gross, of NPR's radio show Fresh Air interviewed Dr. David Kessler author of <i>The End of Overeating</i>, pediatrician, former FDA commissioner, and former Dean of the medical schools at Yale and the University of California. </span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">During the interview Dr. Kessler explained. "We used to think of - food was something we ate to fill us up, to satiate us. But in fact, much of the food that we're eating, this trifecta of sugar, fat and salt, stimulate us. And what we now see is the science that shows that much of the food that we're eating, this very highly palatable food, is excessively activating the neurocircuitry of many of our brains. We used to just think that, you know, food tasted good, but we now know what's behind that, and for many of us the reason we keep on eating is because of this sustained stimulation."<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><b>So what is happening when we bit into something sweet, salty and with a good chuck of fat within it?</b></span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><b> </b><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">From the PBS show Moyers on Addiction: <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">"Different parts of the brain govern different functions. Here, you can see the areas of the brain that control such things as movement, thought, judgment, memory, and "reward," or the feeling of pleasure that comes after one does something enjoyable (tasting a piece of cake, receiving a compliment from the boss)." (<a href="http://www.thirteen.org/closetohome/animation/neuron-main.html"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;">See</span></a> this link for an animation) <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">On the same website dopamine is explained as:<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"> "One important neurotransmitter involved in the experience of pleasure is called <b>dopamine</b>. <a href="http://www.thirteen.org/closetohome/animation/opi-anim-main.html">Here</a>, dopamine, shown in yellow, is produced in the neuron shown at the top and packaged in containers called vesicles. As an electrical impulse arrives at the neuron's terminal, the vesicle moves to the neural membrane and releases its load of dopamine into the synaptic cleft. The dopamine crosses the gap and binds to receiver sites, or <b>receptors</b>, on the membrane of the next neuron. When dopamine occupies a receptor, various actions take place in that neuron so that a new electrical impulse is generated in this neuron, and the "message" continues on. After the dopamine has bound to the receptor, eventually it comes off again and is removed from the synaptic cleft and back into the first neuron by <b>reuptake pumps</b>. (For normal nerve transmission, it is important that the dopamine not stay in the cleft.)" <a href="http://www.thirteen.org/closetohome/animation/opi-anim-main.html"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;">See this link for an animation</span></a>.<br />
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Many of our key bodily functions have evolved (or were designed; depending on the belief system at hand) to help us to survive and continue our species. Dopamine is released while consuming rich, salty, fatty food. Being attracted to high calories foods has helped our numbers explode into an estimated 6,872,597,995 humans walking this earth (<a href="http://www.census.gov/main/www/popclock.html"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;">estimate as of October 2, 2010</span></a>). But this is what is starting to kill us now because "food" companies have figured out that if they process fruits, grains, vegetables, even meat (think chicken nuggets) mixed with salt and fat enough we will become addicted to their products. And those products affect who we are, who we become. They affect our moods, our weight, and our lives.</span></span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Author, Gary Wenk, points out in his 2010 book, <i>Your Brain on Food: How Chemicals Control Your Thoughts and Feelings</i>, that "the drugs you take, the foods you eat – can affect how your neurons behave and, subsequently, how you think and feel."</span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">An interesting fact also is the power of human touch. Touch can light up the same area of the brain. But I think I will leave this topic for another day or you can learn more <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=128795325">here</a>. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">One last thought. Almost every time I open "food" that is in a package I consciously know what I am doing to myself. And for me, that is half the battle….on most days. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">As I finish writing I find I am reaching for the chocolate pie in the fridge (I'm only having one though!). I think my brain has reached capacity and impulse control has become questionable; and I still have lots of studying for midterms to do! <br />
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<span xmlns=""></span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-30794873572361666992010-09-02T21:36:00.005-04:002010-09-02T22:16:15.893-04:00Easy Grilled Veggies<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns="">Labor Day weekend; the turning point to the end of summer; summer toys start to get put away while temperatures start to fall and we prepare for falling leaves. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns="">The last month or so I have pulled out an old college memory - how I learned to grill whitefish - and am working it into a way to easily grill veggies (with minimal mess). There are things about this that still need to be perfected, but I will give you the pictorial overview with a few written instructions below, if you find variations that work better - I'd love to hear. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jSmBOMUxTUs5C-Zx9z_RFb4itFNgLHAyGN1ZYk5BERfTaj4U8kX36JhEWsFWSBGsAzPuJF_cDEzFjUQof15PdK_qwuJUH86vsZkB3t6wEnsxYYW2IGKjpb87hfKsQjyduj2-/s1600/scotty_picking_carrots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jSmBOMUxTUs5C-Zx9z_RFb4itFNgLHAyGN1ZYk5BERfTaj4U8kX36JhEWsFWSBGsAzPuJF_cDEzFjUQof15PdK_qwuJUH86vsZkB3t6wEnsxYYW2IGKjpb87hfKsQjyduj2-/s320/scotty_picking_carrots.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns="">One last thing before I start, this is my favorite way to make fajita's for a crowd. You can make everything individually and everyone can pick what they want to put in their custom fajita. I didn't do fajita tonight. I have been out of town for 13 days and just used veggies from my garden to make a simple veggie dinner. <br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxO_mc8itRhvBY59lAfR1b-VqwXkGgLZmG-M9wsi6Y58HyyUYGVhZvOFsuhHq2tWgZkvmviQAKCZznZIY0vD9UBu2MFbnpcu6OzZau23mhCaj1mSbH4ToFyzoevjLjcevAqZ2-/s1600/veggies_from_garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxO_mc8itRhvBY59lAfR1b-VqwXkGgLZmG-M9wsi6Y58HyyUYGVhZvOFsuhHq2tWgZkvmviQAKCZznZIY0vD9UBu2MFbnpcu6OzZau23mhCaj1mSbH4ToFyzoevjLjcevAqZ2-/s200/veggies_from_garden.jpg" width="200" /></a></span><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns=""><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span xmlns="">So here we go.</span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxPvpUG0DFi1gJYpCQGGwbPRZb2E_608ia_xkTeyWhIn38h4O9WUCAtlds6MQdefDnhaoeF820rRhdi66kGMyu144mEoz0zKrpXGMDyofsZq8KTcmscIssafp22KAO_lMbC6o/s1600/grilled_veggies_03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxPvpUG0DFi1gJYpCQGGwbPRZb2E_608ia_xkTeyWhIn38h4O9WUCAtlds6MQdefDnhaoeF820rRhdi66kGMyu144mEoz0zKrpXGMDyofsZq8KTcmscIssafp22KAO_lMbC6o/s320/grilled_veggies_03.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span xmlns="">You will need:</span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span xmlns=""> - parchment paper, </span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span xmlns=""> - aluminum foil, butter (or, in my case, vegan butter or olive oil), </span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span xmlns=""> - some spices. I like (no, LOVE) Traders Joes 21 Seasoning. It has no salt in it and no preservatives. </span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span xmlns=""><br />
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</span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span xmlns="">1. Chop your veggies. (However you want; I'm not a control freak.... most of the time - if you can handle a knife, you can chop your veggies however you want.) Just keep in mind the thicker the slice the longer it will take to grill.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span xmlns="">2. Prepare your first 'bag' by placing a sheet of aluminum foil down first, then place a sheet of parchment paper on top. The parchment paper is going to be enclosed by the aluminum foil when this is complete.</span><b><span xmlns=""><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIGfZJ6-VIvSBo-IvhxM5TUx7k37bgIScefl_j00VvZIm40BhHy1HkqfTJUp8UIZQzZy9Cx18TEGm60L-4KsJfvxFj0W76Pse_YXVMbw47N2BiakkqRBr3cYEjvz_V6gxnMrm/s1600/grilled_veggies_brocoli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIGfZJ6-VIvSBo-IvhxM5TUx7k37bgIScefl_j00VvZIm40BhHy1HkqfTJUp8UIZQzZy9Cx18TEGm60L-4KsJfvxFj0W76Pse_YXVMbw47N2BiakkqRBr3cYEjvz_V6gxnMrm/s320/grilled_veggies_brocoli.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">broccoli, butter and seasoning </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfa5fnFhUEplg26eZcaGeQjIe5-CRcvQcU22dteGQpFxqBN9P43zEKFmWACfrTOcsZHbss0bQHOv5A0WHHQ7rv8AuVZJBXPHXiXp4LYT7c8XyWbbKX3OIUddjAjEYdFo7F3FR4/s1600/grilled_veggies_green_peppers_oinions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfa5fnFhUEplg26eZcaGeQjIe5-CRcvQcU22dteGQpFxqBN9P43zEKFmWACfrTOcsZHbss0bQHOv5A0WHHQ7rv8AuVZJBXPHXiXp4LYT7c8XyWbbKX3OIUddjAjEYdFo7F3FR4/s320/grilled_veggies_green_peppers_oinions.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">green peppers, onions, olive oil and seasoning </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqKBPC2yXIBjNLiQ3FcmqsNO2u0g9z9LYl8iyMCPBud3zuqEbKA7aWK01yVbtdgWe8A4Iv9g8Um35LKNJOn2bBo5xleIZNVjabRJXCJcv2InyNtQHkql1WGrxM1fATYRgQc4X/s1600/grilled_veggies_sweet_potatoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqKBPC2yXIBjNLiQ3FcmqsNO2u0g9z9LYl8iyMCPBud3zuqEbKA7aWK01yVbtdgWe8A4Iv9g8Um35LKNJOn2bBo5xleIZNVjabRJXCJcv2InyNtQHkql1WGrxM1fATYRgQc4X/s320/grilled_veggies_sweet_potatoes.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sweet potatoes with cinnamon, butter and a little bit of sugar</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsIZDDjKEcRU6x40uArKSgybb3mk1Sy1cDmScww3XNluHaTv8g4eP6e_ScVJlruegiZ6RRdCNAcWM8ahpOkV5ABX2U7T4vIDj7YRrX4ktElNLpSolc7jidjw2XKjxGE52qK7p/s1600/grilled_veggies_3a_step_b4_grill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsIZDDjKEcRU6x40uArKSgybb3mk1Sy1cDmScww3XNluHaTv8g4eP6e_ScVJlruegiZ6RRdCNAcWM8ahpOkV5ABX2U7T4vIDj7YRrX4ktElNLpSolc7jidjw2XKjxGE52qK7p/s320/grilled_veggies_3a_step_b4_grill.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">fold parchment paper around your veggies</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPp0XFAujA2yA8kNUxzH65DBP77m31NhvvWECho-HYYK7GtniI_OATf0Hrqhcy0IxvqdxQ97RgLx-31BBJFyrqPeaNvbZnsC4OBjD8tpyqqHv5IVbDveB608xZH_RU09a5IYOe/s1600/grilled_veggies_3b_step_b4_grill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPp0XFAujA2yA8kNUxzH65DBP77m31NhvvWECho-HYYK7GtniI_OATf0Hrqhcy0IxvqdxQ97RgLx-31BBJFyrqPeaNvbZnsC4OBjD8tpyqqHv5IVbDveB608xZH_RU09a5IYOe/s320/grilled_veggies_3b_step_b4_grill.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">fold aluminum foil around parchment paper </span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie66HuC-a4Pr2M_RCHgr_N-3kJfdyRJUoRjlkIJjTHhhY2wFFqotpRNMPBRShBEb093s8murR02tUi2ANw9Es9FJ-Mi2esPNuSsv8MgR55md3e1B1SH5lbNPvhFPSMhssl9m3i/s1600/grilled_veggies_4_step_b4_grill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie66HuC-a4Pr2M_RCHgr_N-3kJfdyRJUoRjlkIJjTHhhY2wFFqotpRNMPBRShBEb093s8murR02tUi2ANw9Es9FJ-Mi2esPNuSsv8MgR55md3e1B1SH5lbNPvhFPSMhssl9m3i/s320/grilled_veggies_4_step_b4_grill.jpg" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns=""><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DeJ9oZ-0utxPhZALDlvkVUYmH5SdvhXErWMVfMtAKy1e3BsZFKLgQI_6EgXN0Ri7fBqJYtqLfb7ERRwZ8CBMeEqxxK7jKGY8lA1Q1B0iR3aNgCrVdNQwmq3zaffx_2Lu1X5U/s1600/grilled_veggies_last_step_b4_grill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DeJ9oZ-0utxPhZALDlvkVUYmH5SdvhXErWMVfMtAKy1e3BsZFKLgQI_6EgXN0Ri7fBqJYtqLfb7ERRwZ8CBMeEqxxK7jKGY8lA1Q1B0iR3aNgCrVdNQwmq3zaffx_2Lu1X5U/s320/grilled_veggies_last_step_b4_grill.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">close ends and you have a bag!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMTuLdJDqpkKXr9OTYiVernQ-4H9uonU49CkWr4L4IzUoOfNHrdxoJLJ2iQAIHDeR5q5B6FobJcGNGgJxpk_qo_upHmSopC6yQ55jFo654VL6-EP6oT3m7nByL2U9MTSE0v48m/s1600/grilled_veggies_flip_grill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMTuLdJDqpkKXr9OTYiVernQ-4H9uonU49CkWr4L4IzUoOfNHrdxoJLJ2iQAIHDeR5q5B6FobJcGNGgJxpk_qo_upHmSopC6yQ55jFo654VL6-EP6oT3m7nByL2U9MTSE0v48m/s320/grilled_veggies_flip_grill.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">place on grill and flip about every 4 minutes</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</tbody></table><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns="">So far I have found that sweet potatoes take the longest to grill - about 20-25 minutes if the grill is pre-heated. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns="">Everything else seems to take about 15 minutes, but carefully check (without burning yourself) before removing from the grill. Each grill can be a little different.</span><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;" xmlns="">Note: I boiled the corn tonight - that I haven't experimented with the bag concept for corn on the cob....yet.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<span xmlns=""></span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-24976634761497534742010-08-16T10:21:00.004-04:002010-08-16T15:28:24.708-04:00Meatless Monday...A Meal Idea and Elvis Peanut Butter Bananna Sandwich for dessertEven going meatless for one day will make a difference, for you and the earth. If you click on the title above it should take you to a cool video on Treehugger.com that inspires how one day can make a difference.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbWbvclstOTOIIrB7SftoMCiHs6HgABCKPbPHhnAXrocrJMbweTlMfXpVyOeqnk2hb7plHhQcH53bdT6RxWgKtE-mnmpogzsIeRxpXUriodg_-kl2WmQLsWJBG8kfHVaANo_w/s1600/quick_veggie_meal_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbWbvclstOTOIIrB7SftoMCiHs6HgABCKPbPHhnAXrocrJMbweTlMfXpVyOeqnk2hb7plHhQcH53bdT6RxWgKtE-mnmpogzsIeRxpXUriodg_-kl2WmQLsWJBG8kfHVaANo_w/s400/quick_veggie_meal_01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Lately, my favorite quick veggie meal to make is a Thai style stir fry. I put the frozen veggie in a skillet with just a little bit of water (maybe 2-3 Tablespoons) and let warm on medium heat for 3-4 minutes (make sure there is just enough water to keep it from sticking but not too much, you don't want a rice/veggie thai soup). I then add Trader Joes frozen brown rice. I just open the bag and place it in a skillet. I then add some of the sauce. I do it different combination's; sometimes I add the Peanut Sauce and Szechuan Sauce (careful - its spicy and will kick you in the pants). Other times, I just add Tamari and a little bit of Agava Necter to make a traditional Soy Sauce stir fry. Sometimes I mix all three. I typically only have to add about 2 Tablespoons of each sauce. I'm not very good at measuring when I am making recipes up on the fly. I just try to eye ball it. Remember, you don't want soup! Stir often.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmz0h7bIEbyxoVd8hfg9H8_JZ5X6tXvQRY7CHooRiS3UCGBLsKKDpXoWPsB719VmB-WjG1le7QeWgAPup4N6kdF0SRn4bCzoLoadiXygDiviFe0t3TxDmDWwxyAUE3Do3M6mAX/s1600/thaipeanutsauce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmz0h7bIEbyxoVd8hfg9H8_JZ5X6tXvQRY7CHooRiS3UCGBLsKKDpXoWPsB719VmB-WjG1le7QeWgAPup4N6kdF0SRn4bCzoLoadiXygDiviFe0t3TxDmDWwxyAUE3Do3M6mAX/s200/thaipeanutsauce.jpg" width="155" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T2pqLHUKbMdFBvT2mIwGuZgbKmIJdgk7ez-gvnIyZuXUd46Aw3Q-TKjUAg407AEWhVKxoj5LeLPsZ9Hgdm8PVhOkIkcgplPZbPkh35PwSU8rjA6xNgVISxrj-6C4IFC53bCB/s1600/talmarisauce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T2pqLHUKbMdFBvT2mIwGuZgbKmIJdgk7ez-gvnIyZuXUd46Aw3Q-TKjUAg407AEWhVKxoj5LeLPsZ9Hgdm8PVhOkIkcgplPZbPkh35PwSU8rjA6xNgVISxrj-6C4IFC53bCB/s200/talmarisauce.jpg" width="123" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-tx8H-izfCdMLPks0hVzgANIWhp26lhoDN116uZ0WMSh02LX4H9hhhRSW8joFPZDKdY-BwgpwZIK6hZERNFfhLV_Kwbkaw7d4EoiOuJKx8jF5HRsidq6QBKRSI0zLdA46nNu/s1600/szechuansauce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-tx8H-izfCdMLPks0hVzgANIWhp26lhoDN116uZ0WMSh02LX4H9hhhRSW8joFPZDKdY-BwgpwZIK6hZERNFfhLV_Kwbkaw7d4EoiOuJKx8jF5HRsidq6QBKRSI0zLdA46nNu/s200/szechuansauce.jpg" width="119" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://splendidtable.publicradio.org/recipes/main_pbsand.html">In honor of Elvis's life and the 33 years since his death, why not aa after meal treat Peanut Butter Banana Grill Sandwiches...these are kind of healthy....click here to see recipe</a></div>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-1405356879841490422010-08-15T07:00:00.005-04:002010-08-16T10:28:20.881-04:00What to Serve When Company is Coming Over?<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GXc_p-tyt3xCI8esz0DyaLINWrvkiI3pEGOwA8Z4PyIxmmZ_VRofAabYNYM39DvsY0GVG5bnBpVwbo4OisJM1MQa4xLw0k_IyydeCFTVJpapB8rraN0taC5qE0XOYIAL1rGB/s1600/bday_cake_2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GXc_p-tyt3xCI8esz0DyaLINWrvkiI3pEGOwA8Z4PyIxmmZ_VRofAabYNYM39DvsY0GVG5bnBpVwbo4OisJM1MQa4xLw0k_IyydeCFTVJpapB8rraN0taC5qE0XOYIAL1rGB/s200/bday_cake_2010.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Yesterday we celebrated my oldest birthday with a party of our friends and family. I have wrestled with what I serve in my house when we have company over. (Heck, I struggle with what to feed my family on a daily basis.) So finally, this past month, I have settled one of my struggles. I decided that I will not prepare meat when company comes over. This is not an easy decision for me because I don't want to push my choices on others. My purpose is to set an example, to show it can be done. Because if we could cut into some pharma profits by getting healthier I'd be happy.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYu1q6auV8Dtn-M4yk0InUdRNd8f9pwybGY2s3xHINqirkhnxBL9vXDYYwmzJaf5vZck1Jwbv-zBudcYQU1CeSuScYFnxO2kQRWN8RkO5t9_aQg0xL3sUtr_d4Z2UmycX1-HAi/s1600/foodforparty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYu1q6auV8Dtn-M4yk0InUdRNd8f9pwybGY2s3xHINqirkhnxBL9vXDYYwmzJaf5vZck1Jwbv-zBudcYQU1CeSuScYFnxO2kQRWN8RkO5t9_aQg0xL3sUtr_d4Z2UmycX1-HAi/s200/foodforparty.jpg" width="200" /></a><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><b> I can only think of two people over the age of 55 that are not diagnosed with some chronic disease in my life</b>. I've started to realize that the change needs to start somewhere. That change needs to start with me. If I really love those around me I will do my best to provide the healthiest opportunities for them I can while still enjoying the fruits of life… so to speak. It started a couple of weeks ago when I had a couple of the girls from my soccer team and their families over. I tested the waters with my idea that I could provide a plant based meal for more than 15 people and have everyone enjoy it. The feedback I got was positive, so I repeated most of it for my oldest birthday celebration. I did bend and get pizza along with the roasted vegetables I served make-your-own fajita style. And of course there was birthday cake. I choose not to do goodie bags because I honestly was lacking creativity this year. I did not want to fill bags full of candy and hand them out to the kids, and I didn't want to buy a bunch of cheap, lasts-only-for-a-minute toys. The later because I feel it is wasting the resources and money. I typically throw the stuff out within hours that it arrives in my house. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Chronic disease is an umbrella term that encompasses: obesity, cardiovascular disease (CVD), cancer, diabetes mellitus. There are other chronic diseases such as different types of arthritis, multiple sclerosis, osteoporosis, even some mental disorders which are thought to have a diet/lifestyle connection. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">According The World Health Organization (WHO) report of Diet, Nutrition and the Prevention of Chronic Disease, "79% of all death worldwide that are attributable to chronic disease are already occurring in developing countries." (WHO 4) WHO also projects that by 2020 "chronic disease will account for almost three-quarters of all deaths worldwide…The number of people in the developing world with diabetes will increase more than 2.5-fold, from 84 million in 1995 to 228 in 2025." (WHO 5). <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Most experts agree that chronic disease is largely preventable (WHO 5). "Modern dietary patterns and physical activity patterns are risk behaviors that travel across countries and are transferable from one population to another like an infectious disease, affecting disease patterns globally." (WHO 5)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><table border="0" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><colgroup><col style="width: 283px;"></col><col style="width: 283px;"></col></colgroup><tbody valign="top">
<tr style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(242, 242, 242);"><td style="border: 0.5pt solid black; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Cause of Death</i></span></div></td><td style="border-color: black black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: solid solid solid none; border-width: 0.5pt 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Death</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Diseases of the Heart</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>710,760</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Cancer (Malignant Neoplasms)</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>553,091</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Medical Care</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>225,400</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Stroke (Cerebrovascular Disease)</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>167,661</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Chronic Lower Respiratory Diseases</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>122,009</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Accidents</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>97,900</i></span></div></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black; border-style: none solid solid; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Diabetes Mellitus</i></span></td><td style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color black black -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none solid solid none; border-width: medium 0.5pt 0.5pt medium; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 7px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;"><i>69,301</i></span></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span xmlns=""><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Table 1 - Leading Cause of Death in the United States (Campbell & Campbell 16)<b><br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">According to Dr. T. Colin Campbell and Thomas M. Campbell, <br />
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<div style="margin-left: 45pt;"><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Both diabetes and obesity are merely symptoms of poor health in general. They rarely exist in isolation of other disease and often forecast deeper, more serious health problems, such as heart disease, cancer and stroke. Two of the most frightening statistics show that diabetes among people in their thirties has increased 70% in less than ten years and percentage of obese people has nearly doubled in the past their years. Such an incredibly fast increase in these "signal" diseases in America's young to middle age population forecast a health care catastrophe in the coming decades. It may become an unbearable burden on a health system that is already strained in countless ways. (Campbell & Campbell 14)<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">In 1972 a community based CVD prevention program began in the province of North Karelia in Finland due to their high CVD mortality rates. The initial goal was to achieve a substantial decline in coronary heart disease (CHD) mortality, especially among middle-aged men through promoting cholesterol lowering dietary changes and a stop smoking campaign. A massive community approach was initiated through health services, voluntary organizations, local media, businesses and public policy. There was a considerable decline in CVD (and cancer) mortality (over 60%) among the male population in North Karelia throughout the program and beyond. "The experience of the North Karelia and Finland as a whole is a major demonstration that premature mortality from modern epidemics of CVD and cancer can be greatly reduced" (Puska et al. 424).<br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Reference: <br />
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<div style="margin-left: 36pt;"><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Campbell, T. Colin, and Thomas M. Campbell. <i>The China Study: the Most Comprehensive Study of Nutrition Ever Conducted and the Startling Implications for Diet, Weight Loss and Long-term Health</i>. Dallas, Tex.: BenBella, 2005. Print. <br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 36pt;"><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">World Health Organization. <i>Diet , Nutrition and the Prevention of Chronic Diseases</i>. Rep. The World Health Organization, 2003. Web. 5 Apr. 2010. <br />
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<span xmlns=""></span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-14202910195368652702010-08-04T23:18:00.006-04:002012-05-31T12:38:50.927-04:00The Importance of Love -- for our Health<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have this powerful memory of my (then) 7 year old son, in a hospital gown, with blood still stuck in his baby-fine sandy blond hair left from brain surgery earlier that week. It was dark outside and our family was gathered around him, trying to keep his spirits up as he fought the pain. Along with the monitors, creamy white walls and pastel privacy curtains, we were also surrounded by a ton of little stuffed animals and gifts from family, friends, church and even strangers. </span></span><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></span><span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">There, in the middle of his 5th floor hospital room, in a uncomfortably hard, but sturdy, chair I watched as my son struggle to sit upright for the first time since his surgery. He sat and started to read the cards his classmates made for him that someone had dropped off while he was sleeping. I will forever remember the happiness, love and the warmth I saw fill his tired soul as he read those simple handmade cards from his second grade classmates. One of the little girls even signed her name with 'Love, so-and-so'. In that moment the struggle to sit upright got a little less as he went on to read the jokes (and giggled at) the boys wrote and the kind words from the rest of the girls. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">The cards and all other little mementos of positive thoughts, letting him know he was surround by love, were just as important to his healing as anything else we were doing. They gave him power I couldn't alone; the doctor's couldn't, nor could his dad alone. It was almost a years' worth of months that accumulated a collective effort to not just heal Kevin through modern medicine, but also through love. I believe it worked. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Since then, I have believed strongly that love can heal physical ailments and mental anguish. And science is proving it (love it when really smart people prove me right). An article in Scientific American this past July talks about how healthy relationships increase survival up to 50%. It mentions that, "Social support has been linked to lower blood pressure, and a diverse collection of contacts is associated with better immune system functioning. The list continues to grow, she says, now encompassing other bodily processes such as wound healing and inflammation." <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">In a 2005 Newsweek article, Dr. Dean Ornish, author of The Spectrum also the founder and president of the Preventive Medicine Research Institute said, "… love and intimacy are at the root of what makes us sick and what makes us well. If a new medication had the same impact, failure to prescribe it would be malpractice. Connections with other people affect not only the quality of our lives but also our survival. Study after study find that people who feel lonely are many times more likely to get cardiovascular disease than those who have a strong sense of connection and community." <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">There is little control to how your social structure holds up in times of crisis. But what we do have control of is who we decide to be when someone we know is faces a crisis. The outreach and kindness of the community that we live in was also a huge lesson in how to react when I see others facing their times of trial. It is my tendency to want to keep to myself, mostly out of fear of saying something wrong or offending and a bit of fear of having to endure another painful loss. But it is also so hard for me not to be the shy girl. It takes every ounce of confidence I have to overcome the decades of being initially shy. Now more than ever I see the importance of overcoming this. Love is complicated. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">In Monday's newspaper, within the Sexetera advice column a person wrote in asking if they should end a relationship that had just begun because in the fall the guy returns to school. Mia's response I thought was adroit, "Let the relationship play itself out. If you two are meant to be together, it'll last and if you're not, well, at least you saw it coming. If you're smart, you'll enjoy getting to know this guy but not invest too many emotions until you see where things are heading. One way to do this is by investing in your own future as well as a potential love affair. Why not? He's looking out for himself by furthering his education. I hope you're doing the same." Steve, the other writer for the column asked, "What is wrong with getting hurt?" <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">The point is that healthy, good, complex friendships and relationships are collectively a part of the happiness formula and a healthy life. There is a challenge and an art to balancing and blending a life with other adults. Throw in some kids and we are knitting a complicated design. It seems to me, if it all is handled enough compassion and understanding, sprinkled with just the right amount of independence and dependence that our relationships with others have the capability to extend our lives, to keep us, and our loved ones, living healthy…. maybe even greater than anything else we do to improve our health. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I recently had a nightmare about one of my children drowning. I woke up still feeling the loss even though that child is the one who woke me up from that dream. (I can't say he isn't wearing a life jacket even when he takes a bath.... Just sort of kidding.) Loving anyone, even our own children, can make even the strongest of people feel vulnerable. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">There is an inherit risk when we give something (or fear the loss). But most especially when what is given is something as precious as the influential emotion, love. I think it is interesting studies show when we don't (wisely) take that risk and say, "What's wrong with getting hurt?" we actually hurt ourselves more in the long run. How ironic. <br />
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<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Articles referenced in this post: <a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=relationships-boost-survival">http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=relationships-boost-survival</a><br />
<a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9466931/site/newsweek/">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9466931/site/newsweek/</a><br />
<a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/01/AR2010080102508.html?sub=AR">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/01/AR2010080102508.html?sub=AR</a><br />
<a href="http://www.sanluisobispo.com/2010/07/29/1231774/sexcetera-take-a-chance-on-love.html"><span style="color: #003399;">http://www.sanluisobispo.com/2010/07/29/1231774/sexcetera-take-a-chance-on-love.html#ixzz0vW36mmep</span></a></span></span><br />
<span xmlns=""></span>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-824465437518216672010-07-26T09:53:00.005-04:002010-07-29T20:18:50.203-04:00Going through Grandma's Recipe Box<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoii1XvnnOfq7ZG0LOI7md4PqQ0XXiTs4I-pE-O7isg64cM235FnKtokTrk30ohxuc9QZUdKO7xX1JeHarVzy4dWCeTJ0v9BUt0Bb4qg_b5251QfyLE5CzS69I8Vawkal_aTNg/s1600/DSCN3835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoii1XvnnOfq7ZG0LOI7md4PqQ0XXiTs4I-pE-O7isg64cM235FnKtokTrk30ohxuc9QZUdKO7xX1JeHarVzy4dWCeTJ0v9BUt0Bb4qg_b5251QfyLE5CzS69I8Vawkal_aTNg/s320/DSCN3835.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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I am almost done reading/ listening to the audio of <i>In Defense of Food</i> by Michael Pollen. It is a good book, though I struggled with <i>his </i>struggle with "nutrition-ism". He went back and forth about if we should stress so much about what we eat. But in the end, his conclusion echoed a similar conclusion I came to writing my research paper last semester.<br />
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One of his suggestions, to eat foods that our grandparents would recognize as food, peaked my curiosity. So I pulled out my grandmother's recipe box and starting going through the recipes. And there, in the little boxes, was the evidence of what has caused the diabetes and CVD in my family. Upon first run through of the little boxes, it looks as though 80% of recipes I inherited are desserts. I always did associated my grandmother's house with cookies and sweets. I have fond memories of her making a point to have special days with just me and her in her kitchen. She showed me how to make her famous Peanut Brittle and Aunt Julia's (her sister) Divinity. I really do appreciate that she made time for me, and showed me the things she knew how to do well. But it is clear where my sweet tooth came from. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QTNcXP0hOoLt7AAJMlcN4fTq6huwDCfJTs8HpR95bZKGTpMYatVpkbH_c7hHf-yX1Ojhjng3hZQHDNrW2L6BACfCbFFtupmf04zCgsV202-V8KdFa1g2sojqnERT0Npo7Bxv/s1600/DSCN3836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QTNcXP0hOoLt7AAJMlcN4fTq6huwDCfJTs8HpR95bZKGTpMYatVpkbH_c7hHf-yX1Ojhjng3hZQHDNrW2L6BACfCbFFtupmf04zCgsV202-V8KdFa1g2sojqnERT0Npo7Bxv/s200/DSCN3836.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>As I dug through the box I did come across a couple of non dessert recipes but there was hardly a recipe in there that had more than one fresh vegetable. So I think I am going to have to look back at least another generation to find some whole food recipes. More than likely I will be comprising my own collection of more modern whole food recipes. Hopefully, a generation or two from now, when (or if) my grandchild goes through my recipes, she will be able recognize that her grandmother's vegetable stir fry is still a healthy meal. It is my hope that the family history of chronic disease will truly be history by then.An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-1141931101056718152009-11-05T02:04:00.001-05:002014-11-27T11:36:34.781-05:00I Look Good?“Mommah! Mommah!” I heard his little voice coming up the stairs. As he turned the corner, “there you are.” He came up the last step as he saw me gathering the laundry. He wobbled to a stand and with a big goofy grin asked me, “I look good?” I couldn’t help but beam at my youngest wonderful sense of humor. This is what I saw:<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4709/2050/200/IMG_6955.0.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" />An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-53894790401407380132009-07-21T23:30:00.002-04:002009-07-21T23:33:17.655-04:00Quality<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Note: This is a repost of something I wrote back in 2005.</span><br /></div><br />From late childhood through adolescents I was told over and over again by teachers, parents, even my grandparent how important it is to have an understanding of history. “History has a way of repeating itself if we don’t learn the lessons from the previous generations.” My grandfather told me when I was about 8, that thought has stuck with me. As I have been researching the history of quality I came across a website that was in memory of Homer Sarasohn. You are probably wondering who is Homer Sarasohn? (As I was when I first came across it.) So I give to you a brief history lesson in American and Japanese quality taken from <a href="http://deming.eng.clemson.edu/pub/den/files/lesson.txt">A Lesson Learned and a Lesson Forgotten by Robert Chapman Wood</a>.<br /><br />In 1946, shortly after American occupation of Japan began, General Douglas MacArthur urgently wanted Japan to mass-produce radios so that U.S. Occupation authorities could reach every Japanese village quickly with its messages. A young radio product engineer during World War II who had become radar engineer at MIT and Raytheon shortly after the war, received a telegram from General MacArthur requesting he report to headquarters at the earliest possible date. At 29 years of age, Homer Sarasohn was instructed to help the Japanese produce radios and communications equipment.<br /><br />When arriving in Japan, Sarasohn found that the Japanese knew about electronics, yet the philosophy on production was making half of your products okay and throwing the other half out.<br /><br />A couple of years of unreliable radios Sarasohn along with Charles Protzman a Western Electric engineer concluded quality products would never be produced in Japan without basic modern management training. Sarasohn and Protzman developed a training course that would teach the Japanese the basics that they needed to know.<br /><br />‘The Occupation's Economics and Social Section objected to the seminar."They said we might be too successful," recalls Sarasohn. It was perhaps the understatement of the century. But both the ESS people and the CCS engineers made 20-minute presentations before MacArthur. The ESS warned of the perils of Japanese competition. Sarasohn insisted that it would ultimately be more practical to teach the defeated and starving nation to be self-sufficient. After both sides had finished, says Sarasohn, MacArthur turned to him, snapped, "Go do it," and walked out of the room.’<br /><br />On the first page of the courses text, a motto used at Newport News Shipbuilding was cited: "We shall build good ships here; at a profit if we can, at a loss if we must, but always good ships."<br /><br />The gist of the message that was imparted to his Japanese pupils:<br /><br />Every company needs a concise, complete statement of the purpose of the company's existence, one that provides a well-defined target for the idealistic efforts of the employees.<br /><br />Companies must put quality ahead of profit, pursuing it rigorously with techniques such as statistical quality control.<br /><br />Every employee deserves the same kind of respect follow managers receive, and good management is "democratic management." Lower-level employees need to be listened to by their bosses.<br /><br /><br />Sarasohn and Protzman's pupils went on to become a Who's Who of Japan's electronics industry. They included Matsushita Electric's Masaharu Matsushita; Mitsubishi Electric's Takeo Kato; Fujitsu's Hanzou Omi; Sumitomo Electric's Bunzaemon Inoue; Akio Morita and Masaru Ibuka, the founders of what is now Sony Corp. This cadre of leaders spread the principles throughout Japanese industry.<br /><br />I wonder if much of this is lost here in the U.S. now. The evening news tells of CEO’s milking U.S. companies in the name of money and greed. It seems to be all about profitability and “shareholder value”. I understand a company can not survive without being profitable but at what expense?<br /><br />So this is my brief history lesson for what it is worth. If you are interested in more information I recommend:<br /><br />A Lesson Learned and a Lesson Lost: <a href="http://deming.eng.clemson.edu/pub/den/files/lesson.txt">http://deming.eng.clemson.edu/pub/den/files/lesson.txt</a><br /><br />And Honoring Homer <a href="http://honoringhomer.net/">http://honoringhomer.net/</a>An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-1140582228825727972006-02-21T23:22:00.000-05:002006-02-21T23:23:48.850-05:00The Lincoln MemorialIt was an odd occasion I found myself in last week. Sitting at Subway (think sandwiches not NYC) with just my husband across from me. Most of our conversation was centered on the house and all the projects that needed to be done. We also talked about my oldest that had just learned about our country’s 16th president, <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/history/presidents/al16.html">Abraham Lincoln</a>. I was telling hubby about how excited little K was when he came home telling me all the things he had learned about good ol’ Abe Lincoln. I asked hubby if there was anyway he could take the following week off. He said no. I told him I would like to take the kids to visit his family who live on the outskirts of DC. Little K has the week off from school and I thought this would be a great moment for the kids to see the family AND the <a href="http://www.nps.gov/linc/">Lincoln Memorial</a>.<br /><br />So I made the drive, me, my two little ones. The first day we spent at my sister-in-law’s with her two boys that are close to my oldest age. That evening we went to Chuck E Cheese with almost every one of my in-laws for dinner. My boys and their cousins had a great time. I had forgotten how expensive Chuck E Cheese is. But we all had a good time and the kids got some cheap toys that lasted less than 5 minutes.<br /><br />My father in-law, who is recently retired, has volunteered to be our tour guide, which I am very grateful for. Today we took the kids to the <a href="http://www.si.edu/">Smithsonian</a>, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial and the Korean War Memorial. Little K was so happy to get his picture taken with Lincoln. He is looking forward to taking it in for his share day at school. But I think the kid’s favorite part was the <a href="http://www.mnh.si.edu/">Bugs</a> exhibit at the Smithsonian and of course the dinosaurs (which we go to almost every time we are here).<br /><br />It is odd having to do the kids bath time all by myself. Typically hubby does that job. I am not so good at it. I got yelled at by my oldest for not doing it right. Oh, well.An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-1140281049513989032006-02-18T11:36:00.001-05:002006-02-19T06:06:05.010-05:00I Must Admit to Some Tree Hugger Tendencies.As I have watched much of the forests come down in the last 3 years in my area, I have been curious about what we are doing to our environment; our air quality. My understanding of science is pretty basic, but in elementary I learned we get the oxygen we breathe from trees and other green living plants that surround us. The recent landslide that killed 1,500+ people is being blamed on the recent rains and the logging industry, even though they pulled out over 10 years ago. Recently I found a climate change calculator. It allowed me to select average household for questions such as how much electricity and natural gas does your household use (so I didn't have to go searching through all of my bills last year and figure out my average). It also took into consideration the gas mileage of my car and the amount of miles I drove last year. I drive a 4 cylinder manual transmission. My gas mileage is an average of 27 miles per gallon. With all that information it calculated my household has an annual CO2 emissions of 47.8 tons. It also calculated the annual number of new trees needed to absorb that amount of CO2, which are 144 trees. I was shocked. I was expecting something closer to 90 trees for a lifetime. If you would like to calculate the number of trees it takes to sustain your household, you can at: <a href="http://www.americanforests.org/resources/ccc/">http://www.americanforests.org/resources/ccc/</a><br /><br />Top 10 Reasons Why Trees Are Valuable and Important<br />1) Trees Produce Oxygen<br />1 Mature tree can give enough oxygen to support 10 living breathing people. The forest also acts as a giant filter that cleans the air we breath.<br /><br />2) Trees Clean the Soil<br />Trees can either store harmful pollutants or actually change the pollutant into less harmful forms. Trees act as a filter for our soil.<br /><br />3) Trees Control Noise Pollution<br />Trees muffle urban noise almost as effectively as stone walls.<br /><br />4) Trees Slow Storm Water Runoff<br />Flash flooding can be dramatically reduced by a forest or by planting trees.<br /><br />5) Trees Are Carbon Sinks<br />6) Trees Clean the Air<br />7) Trees Shade and Cool<br />8) Trees Act as Windbreaks<br />A windbreak can lower home heating bills up to 30% and have a significant effect on reducing snow drifts.<br /><br />9) Trees Fight Soil Erosion<br />Tree roots bind the soil and their leaves break the force of wind and rain on soil. Trees fight soil erosion, conserve rainwater and reduce water runoff and sediment deposit after storms.<br /><br />10) Trees Increase Property Values<br />Trees can increase the property value of your home by 15% or more.<br /><br /><a href="http://forestry.about.com/gi/pages/mproduct.htm">http://forestry.about.com/gi/pages/mproduct.htm</a><br />Whats was your CO2 number?An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11130673.post-1124689927841706052005-08-22T01:48:00.000-04:002005-08-22T01:56:56.940-04:00Out of Her ElementI used to live in this metropolitan suburb in my early 20’s. So I didn’t think much of moving back for such a short period as I had lived here before.<br /><br />I feel as though my life has been incredibly blessed (my life’s not perfect but I know it is by God’s grace I am as comfotable as I am). I also know within my heart I am supposed to give something back, I just don’t know what the timing will be.<br /><br />The first homeless person I met was a middle aged African American lady who I noticed in the local park, not far from our condo. We had walked up to a small park and I noticed her sitting on one of the picnic tables’ bench. Previously, I had done a little work with some of the county shelters, mostly helping out with holiday fundraising, but I was aware enough of what the system is suppose to look like. While my son and husband were playing on the playscape, I went over and talked to her. I had never in my life gone out and purposely sought out a conversation with a homeless person, but my heart urged me to go speak to her. I did, starting with hello and as I did so I glanced over at my husband who I could tell thought I was crazy. She spoke to me about not knowing where she was going to sleep that night and not knowing what she was going to do. Maybe I was the 100th person who was trying to help this lady find her way, maybe I was the 1st. I told her about some of the shelters I knew of. She asked which bus stop should she get off at and since I have never ridden the bus I was unable to answer that question. I told her I would be back with an answer. I gathered my family as dusk was approaching, then I went home and called the shelters. Or I should say tried to call the shelters. Equipped with the internet, yellow pages and a telephone I had trouble finding a crisis line, how are homeless people suppose to find it???? It the hours are M-F, 9am -5pm; they seem so easy to get a hold of when you want to give them money!!! Finally I found one and called just to check, they would take her if she showed up. My step brother had stopped by while I was looking for the phone number and he drove me back up to the park as I didn't want to go alone. I gave her the phone number of the shelter and $2 for a phone call and bus fare. She tried to refuse the money, but I just asked her to use it wisely for I have been blessed with a little extra. I haven’t seen her at that park since and we go there almost every evening.<br /><br />The second homeless person I met just a couple of days ago was convinced he was a WWII veteran. Honestly, he looked a too little young to me to really be a WWII vet, maybe old enough to be a Vietnam vet, but that is even questionable now I guess. No matter, apparently he had lost his marbles. I still don’t believe that mental illness is any reason for a person to live without a roof over their head. He was trying to sell little American flags during a recent local festival. We just passed him by like every other person that evening, but of course I felt guilty. I passed him again with my sister and couldn’t help but give him at little more than enough for coffee.<br /><br />Within the last 2 months I have encountered more homeless than I ever did in the 4 years I lived here, 4 years ago. There are more that I have noticed around here than I have actually come in contact with.<br /><br />Then today at the gas station, as I was putting gas in my car, a man approached me asking for a couple of dollars for gas. I let him have less than 2 gallons of gas as I wasn’t going to give him cash. The gas station attendant came out and said the man frequently does that there. I had been scammed, or at least it felt like it. He was driving an old beat up car. Who knows what the real story is.<br /><br />All this reality is leaving me wanting to move back to my sheltered community as I feel so naïve and out of place. And there is a new yearning to eventually try to do something, in some small way, to fix the system that is apparently broke in more ways than one; hopefully my naiveté won’t go away.An Epistemologyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02132845998169996417noreply@blogger.com9