Showing posts with label problem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label problem. Show all posts

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Time to Muse...

Sunday, February 27, 2011

A few months ago, I spent a day with some friends, Klaus and Donna Bach, helping them pack to move. They'd lived on the Island a bit longer than I had, and I'd gotten to know them by several means. In the 80s, we'd worked together, with many others, organizing an annual folk festival here on Manitoulin. Klaus and Donna also owned the only health food store in the area, so I often saw them there.

These two make a wonderful pair: he, a soft-spoken, friendly German, and she, an effervescent, laughing Canadian. From all I could see, they, their two children, and the many foster babies they welcomed into their home formed a happy, loving family.

A firm believer in equality and common sense living, Donna was also a full-time homemaker -- truly, a home-maker. She loved looking after the whole family's comfort and offering stability and calm in their home. She contributed to the community and worked in the family's store.

Donna is one of the most smiling, practical and interested people I know.

On our packing day in the late fall, I was telling Donna about my blog, and she was as enthusiastic and supportive as ever. This conversation led to her showing me a poem she'd written years before. I asked if I could post it on my blog sometime, and she was delighted.

I like her little poem because it's real. It reflects the simple realities of daily life -- that the common tasks are more than just common tasks. They allow our minds to shut down and get much-needed rest. The small attention we must pay them allows emotions to be put on hold... or expressed in relative privacy (since the common tasks are often completed on one's own, anyway!). Intuition can slip in quietly and offer solutions that might otherwise go unnoticed. Life is full of small moments in which we can be renewed.

Here's Donna's poetic musing from 1979:

Women's Work

Lead me to the sink where I can think.
Let me peel the onions -- I can cry.
Put my hands in hot and soapy water,
Let me fold the laundry if it's dry.
Ironing's my favourite -- then comes mending,
I'll probably be at it  'til I die.
I know my family thinks I'm busy working,
But I'm solving all our problems on the sly!

Thursday, February 10, 2011

What do you think?

Thursday, February 10, 2011


There is not such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands.
You seek problems because
you need their gifts.
-- Richard Bach


Saturday, January 8, 2011

Word Wonder -- comfort

Saturday, January 8, 2011

comfort
noun: 1. A state of mental or physical ease, especially one free from pain, want, or other afflictions.  2. Relief from sorrow, distress, etc.; solace; consolation.    3. One who or that which gives or brings ease or consolation.  4. Help or support... 
verb: 1. To cheer in time of grief or trouble; solace; console.  2. To relieve physical pain.  3. Law  To aid; help.  [from the Old French confort, which comes from the Old French conforter. That, in turn, comes from the Low Latin word confortare, meaning "to strengthen." The two parts of the word "comfort" are com-, which means "with" and fortis, which means "strong."] -- Funk & Wagnall's Canadian College Dictionary

It's likely that none of what you've read so far surprised you about today's Word Wonder. It didn't surprise me, either, at first. But what was new to me was the strong association the word has with the idea of strength. I'd never thought about that before.

The "-fort" part of comfort comes from one branch of the ancient Indo-European root bhergh-, which meant "high; with derivatives referring to hills and hill-forts." [Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition, page 1643] At a time when being higher than your enemy increased your chances of survival, hills were crucial. A bhergh- meant strength (-fort)...thus, hill-forts. A number of languages have words related to this root: burg, which meant a fortified town; borough; belfry; burgomaster; even burglar; plus fort, force, forte, effort, enforce, fortify, fortissimo, pianoforte, and reinforce. They all have to do with height, strength and/or safety.

Fast forward a good many years, and comfort becomes the allies and reserves that arrive to support an army -- strength and fortification to help in battle. Further on in history (or perhaps all along), the term "comfort for the troops" came to mean having women or boys available for sexual gratification.

Somewhere along the way, the strengthening nature of comfort evolved into the softer meaning generally used in English today. We think of the solace, ease, and consolation mentioned in the definition above. We think of warm, cozy comforters and muffins and cups of tea or hot chocolate. Comfort means a friend who will listen and offer support.

Ivor Brown, author of A Word in Your Ear & Just Another Word, believes "This is one of the admirable words which have turened soft and it needs to be re-stiffened to its proper shape and value." Although it is, as he continues, "...by origin, the giver of strength and valour," I don't agree with him that comfort has lost its power.

Upon reflection, I've come to think that the comfort we derive from soft blankets and rich carbohydrates and solace in times of grief is closely similar to the strength ensured by high places in times of war. No matter how comfort comes to us, it usually does, indeed, make us stronger. Whether we fight enemies on a battlefield or struggle with the onslaught of life's problems, comfort is welcome. It helps us move from feeling overwhelmed by sadness or depression or loneliness to feeling stronger and better equipped to move forward.

I hope that, whatever the circumstances, you will offer and accept comfort, thus helping strength to return.

Friday, December 10, 2010

4 Helping Books

Friday, December 10, 2010

Here's a list of books you might find helpful for either holiday-giving or holiday-surviving:

It's So Hard to Love You -- Staying Sane When Your Loved One is Manipulative, Needy, Dishonest, or Addicted
(New Harbinger Publications. 2007)

This is an interactive book I wrote with my brother, Bill Klatte. Many have found it useful for understanding and improving troublesome relationships. Available from Chapters, Indigo, Barnes & Noble, Schwartz Books, and Amazon, as well as many independent booksellers. Also available in Spanish and Polish.

Why Good People do Bad Things -- Understanding Our Darker Selves, by James Hollis, PhD.
(Gotham Books. 2007)

I've only started this one in the last week, but two good friends vouch for its deep, helpful concepts and its ability to help us work "toward the possibility of greater wholeness." (The quote from the back cover.) They both swear by everything Dr. Hollis writes. This is my first by him. It's very good so far.


I'm having trouble downloading the photos of the next two book covers, so I'll just list them here:
  • Little Ways to Keep Calm and Carry On (New Harbinger Publications. 2010) by Mark Reinecke. Available from Amazon and other stores. I haven't read this book, but I love the title because I think that many problems and many solutions come in "little ways." I also highly respect New Harbinger Publications.
  • Women Food and God (Scribner. 2010) by Geneen Roth. This book is sitting on my "hope to read soon" pile. It was placed there by my friend, Beth, who says it's wonderful.
Well, those are the books I want to offer up for the moment. I hope you find something useful in one or more of them.  

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Rethink Popular Sayings

Sunday, April 18, 2010

When someone is going through a tough time, or when talking to our children, we often offer advice in the form of common sayings:  Look on the bright side. God must have needed her more in heaven than we need her here. Every cloud has a silver lining. Life is short. It takes two to tango. Practice makes perfect. Though we mean well when we say them, we often use such sayings without even thinking much about their meaning or impact.

The trouble with this lack of thought is that it renders many such sayings useless or even harmful. They've become such clichés that they do little more than briefly disturb the airwaves -- unless they actually do damage. How can well-intended words harm anybody? By setting up unrealistic expectations, by glossing over a specific situation, or by ignoring the feelings of the person you say them to. Here's a closer look at few of the sayings I've sited above.

Look on the bright side. This saying is meant to help people focus less on the problem and more on hope and improvement. That's great...most of the time. But sometimes, before a person can look for the positive, happier possibilities, she needs to feel the sadness, anger or disappointment. She might first need somebody to listen so she can process the problem, which is an important part of moving forward. By tossing out this cliché, we might be ignoring what's actually going on for her right now, which can actually make it harder to move forward. Instead, ask questions about what happened and how she's feeling. Give her time to process events and feelings and be available, if you can, when she's ready to start looking on the bright side.

God must have needed him in heaven more than we need him here. When someone is grieving, it can be very hard to know what to say; we're afraid we'll make someone feel worse by saying the wrong thing. In some cultures and communities, grief is "supposed to" be expressed only briefly, if at all. Many of us don't like how we feel when somebody is unbearably sad, so we trot out clichés by way of comforting both of us. But the idea that God needs somebody in heaven can feel pretty irrelevant when your friend is in shock, horror and disbelief about his loved one's death. Offer your friend your caring presence, comfort and simple foods when he's grieving. If you're not sure what to say, silence is an excellent substitute.

Life is short. Intended to aid appreciation and endorse our choices, this saying is actually pretty negative. How about replacing it with something like this: Life is rich, so I choose to enjoy and appreciate it.

Practice makes perfect. A few years ago, I rewrote this saying to read "practice makes better" because the original form sets up unrealistic expectations. Of course, the intention behind "practice makes better" is to encourage effort and determination, which are admirable. However, it also gives the impression that if you try hard enough and are good enough and work, work, work, you can someday be perfect. For many, that's a scary prospect. We can be very good, we can become experts, but perfection can feel too huge to many, so they give up before they even start. Thinking of practice making us better keeps improvement within our grasp.

So, slow down and pay attention to yourself and others. Think about what you say before you say it, and you'll be of genuine help.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Word Wonder -- at sixes and sevens

Tuesday, January 27, 2010

I am at sixes and sevens as to the precise origin of this expression, because people who make a living figuring out such stuff aren't even sure. But I can certainly tell you what it means. Being at sixes and sevens means a person or situation is in a state of confusion or uncertainty. I can also tell you that it has been in use since before 1375. But more about that in a minute.

Three theories exist for this ancient expression: the Bible, the guilds, and a game. The least likely of the three arises from the story of a dispute between two guilds in the old City of London. Guilds were a sort of blend of today's unions, cartels, and secret societies. Formed to protect their members' interests, they were rated in terms of political power, access to markets, quality of work, and favour with monarchs or city officials. This competition made a guild's standing crucial. It seems that in 1484, the Tailors Guild and the Skinners Guild were vying for position at the level of sixth and seventh places. To settle the problem, the Lord Mayor pulled a King Solomon trick and decreed that henceforth the two guilds would alternate positions each year.

The trouble with this engaging story is that way back in 1375, over a hundred years before the guilds' dispute, Geoffrey Chaucer wrote the words "to set the world on six and seven" in Troilus and Criseyde. From its context, Chaucer means "to hazard the world" or "to risk one's life." Other writers in the following century also used the term. So although the citizens of 1484-London might have popularized the expression by poking fun at the pun-worthy situation with the tailors and the skinners, the guildish disagreement could not have given birth to the expression.

Another possibility for the expression's origin is the Bible. Some have wondered if it came from Job 5:19 where Job's friend, Eliphas the Temanite, sat with Job to mourn with him and comfort him in his extreme troubles. Eliphas encouraged Job to trust in the greatness of God, saying, "For he maketh sore, and bindeth up: he woundeth, and his hands make whole. He shall deliver thee in six troubles: yea, in seven there shall no evil touch thee." The consensus among numerous sources is that this conversation is not the source of "at sixes and sevens" because the meaning is not the same; Job was mourning, not confused.

So, the likely winner is...the game. A pre-Chaucer French dice game called "hazard" was loaded with complicated rules. One requirement was for players to "set on" certain combinations when they rolled the dice. According to the rules, if a player "set on sinque and cise (five and six)," he was deemed to be very careless or confused. It seems that over time some non-French speakers learned the game and misheard the numbers. They thought they heard "six and seven," based on the way "cinque and cise" sounded to their English ears.

Because there is no single die with seven dots, this may have reinforced the concept of being confused and careless for daring to set on the riskiest roll of the dice -- almost like setting on an impossible six and seven. In addition, since six and seven add up to thirteen, this unlucky number would compound the judgment of that player's being a greatly confused person. In time, the expression changed to "stand on six and seven" and "to be left at six and seven." Still further on, the words were pluralized, bringing us to today's "at sixes and sevens" -- the state of feeling confused and uncertain about a situation or decision.