On ‘Men Without Women’

by in books, men, Random musings, reading, Writing and tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Men Without WomenMen Without Women by Haruki Murakami

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I love Haruki Murakami.

I love the way he is able to transport his readers to the exact place he’s describing. How he can weave tales which seem utterly outlandish and yet entirely plausible. How he can create emotions, particularly those of longing and loss and a sense of wanting, simply through his characters’ thoughts and actions.

For each of these stories describing Men Without Women, I’d like more. I’d like to know what happens next to each of them.

More than anything, I’m reminded once again why Murakami is amongst my most favourite authors. Thank you once again, Maestro. You are a genre unto yourself.

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On ‘Women & Power: A Manifesto’

by in books, Feminism, Justice, Random musings, reading, women and tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Women & Power: A Manifesto

Women & Power: A Manifesto by Mary Beard

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I received this little gem of a book through one of my yearly subscriptions from Strand Books.

Weaving a thread that connects the lack of women in positions of power to women’s roles in ancient Greece provides much fodder for the reasons women today remain the minority in power positions.

From the time of Aristophanes to imagery of a Triumph Trump holding the severed head of a Hillary Medusa, this book-derived-from-a-lecture offers much to consider.

It also challenges us to reconsider why when women speak up, it often takes a man to validate her position and words for us to hear them. Even today.

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On Anthony Bourdain

by in Documentary films, Food, In memoriam, Kindness, life, Random musings, Writing and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Finding Anthony Bourdain was a complete accident. Flipping through channels in Moscow on a completely ordinary day, I stumbled across this weird dude on a military boat saying, ‘Not how we expected this show to end, huh?’.

Anthony Bourdain in Beirut, 2006 from Andrew MacGregor Marshall on Vimeo.

That dude was Tony and he was filming an episode of No Reservations in Beirut. The problem was all hell broke lose on his first day of filming and he, his crew and many others were trapped in a hotel until they could get out of the country safely. He, the star, seemed more concerned about his crew, the other hotel guests (particularly the kids) and the hotel staff, as well as all those beyond the hotel living in hell on earth. He cooked for his crew as stress relief, and mostly he showed such a rare degree of honest compassion for everyone else in that episode that he was just … some dude who happened to have this really cool gig, talking about food and eating it on camera. In a war zone.

I was hooked.

I watched him through the last episode of No Reservations. I mourned the closing of El Bulli with Tony.  I have watched almost all of Parts Unknown faithfully, although I am a bit behind.

I love his perspective on food, his commentaries on the cultures in which he finds himself and his interactions with the people he meets as he eats and pontificates across the globe. He makes the different seem not so bad. And, not quite so foreign.

When he traveled to Cuba in 2011, I was equally thrilled and horrified. My biggest fear was ‘which’ Cuba he would see; which Cuba would he show his legions of followers from the couch. But, before that show aired, he wrote the following:

It’s easy, I know, to over-romanticize the unspoiled. Especially when “unspoiled” means “poor”. But look. Look.

Whatever your politics, however you feel about Cuba–look at tonight’s show and admit, at least, that Havana is beautiful. It is the most beautiful city of Latin America or the Caribbean. Look at the Cuban people and admit that they are proud and big hearted and funny and kind–and strong as hell, having put up with every variety of bullshit over the years. On these things, I hope we can agree.

That episode made me weep for the country which has embraced me and which also breaks my heart just a little every time I think of her and her amazing people. He got it. And, better yet, he showed it to everyone else.

https://dailymotion.com/video/x55oim9 

He showed so many parts of this crazy world to us all, and showed us the unpolished, unvarnished, unsanitised versions. Because that’s life. For all of us. Regardless of the perfect images we personally choose show to and share with the world.

‘Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.’
— Anthony Bourdain (No Reservations: Around the World on an Empty Stomach

This past year, he’s also been a rather vocal ally to women, supporting #metoo, understanding the inherent irony of a chef from an incredibly chauvinistic and misogynistic profession giving voice to acts of misogyny and sexism. But, you know, having that ultimate dude as an advocate for women calling out powerful men meant something.

All of it did. It does.

Now, in a world in which we won’t have his wit, his curiosity, his insatiable appetite for all of the food, his uncanny skill with words and their descriptive beauty and power … I’m simply heartbroken.

Thank you, Tony. You gave us too much. And, forgive me, but I really, really, really want to punch you right now.

If you feel at all at the end of tether, before you do anything, please call / reach out to me. Reach out to someone. Anyone.

In the UK, Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org. Take a moment and know that you are loved.

Missing the mark

by in Education, Graduate school, Random musings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

‘Choose your words carefully and wisely.’

How many times have I uttered those very words to the various participants in my classes, lectures and seminars. As much as I attempt to instill in my students a greater appreciation for selecting the precise word that carries the meaning they intend, I unintentionally (and unfortunately) chose my own words rather carelessly this morning.

In several courses, we work on providing, as well as accepting and responding to feedback on our work. In such classes, 90% of my own responsibility lies in providing constructive criticism and guidance on how to improve as well as building the confidence of my students to keep pushing themselves to do better. Clarify. Refine. Define. Revise and rework. Describe just what they do in their research and its broader relevance to various audiences in a language that is engaging, accessible and informative. I begin these classes by encouraging these brilliant young scholars to invite, welcome and use criticism and feedback to improve upon already well-constructed and exceptionally important projects. As a mentor of mine once said, ‘[they’ve all done fine jobs]; yet, everything we do can be improved upon. Let’s discuss how.’

I well remember receiving less-than-positive feedback as a graduate student. In fact, some of the very first feedback I received helped me to improve and ultimately land my current job. Whilst not exactly lovely to hear, it was constructive, solution-oriented conversation, meant to encourage and help me become a better scholar. Was it easy to hear? Not really. But, was it necessary? Absolutely. And, the rewards were immense. They still are. (Thank you, Kathy!)

I also well remember how utterly gutted I following a particularly harsh assessment of my work from an entirely different professor, delivered in a very different tone and most likely with a very different intent. That conversation, by contrast, left me so completely shaken it took me months to recover, and I seriously questioned continuing my graduate studies. I fled — I literally ran the several blocks home despite carrying about 10 to 15 kg of books — from the meeting in tears and spent several days wondering if I’d made a huge mistake in pursuing an advanced degree.

Whilst I needed a kick up the backside to alter some of my work habits and to focus my attention on things like writing and deadlines, things I still struggle with today, that particular professor’s choice of words and their delivery tore me down and nearly destroyed what little confidence I had as a graduate student. I lost a lot of sleep because of that conversation.

Thankfully, my mentors, those whom I trusted and most admired, adopted entirely different means of guiding me and helping me to develop my skills. And, thankfully, I could steer clear of that rather careless-with-her-words professor for the remainder of my time in that department.

But, today. Today.  Whilst providing feedback, I chose my own words rather foolishly. It wasn’t my intention, but I completely understand how the message missed its mark (meaning, I missed my mark) and how I rattled one of my own students. Worse, I know how she feels, and that makes it even more difficult to stomach.

I’m not sure that I can repair my own carelessness with words. I have apologised. I’ve offered assistance and guidance to the student in question, and I will certainly work with her should she wish to (although I suspect she won’t). More than anything, I will use this as a valuable if not painful learning moment and a cautionary tale in what not to do in future. What I can and will do differently in future.

But, damn, if I don’t feel truly awful at the moment.

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Channeling my inner spring chicken

by in #365grateful, Everyday Life, Gratitude, Inspiration, life, Love, Random musings and tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

I’m turning 48 as of midnight tonight. Technically, I have until 13.40 tomorrow local time in Brenham, TX until I officially turn 48. But, time zones don’t really matter, do they?

There was a moment earlier today when I was pondering my ’38th trip around the sun’. If only. After a few minutes of feeling utterly gutted that I seemingly lost 10 years, I rejoiced. This year, this life, my life. It’s not half bad.

I am healthy.

I am happy.

I am sharing my wacky life with a brilliant, kind, silly-sometimes-serious man whom I adore and who makes me laugh even when I want to throw things (sometimes at him).

I am free.

I have a roof over my head, food in my cupboard and plenty of Marimekko to clothe me regardless of weather or occasion.

I am employed. But, more than that, I finally feel like I’ve found my ‘calling’ in terms of vocation. Regardless of how utterly shattered I may be at times by the volume of work—largely because I cannot say ‘no’—I am inspired each and every day by those with whom and for whom I work. I’d do this gig for free if we lived under the Prime Directive.

I feel loved by those in my life in ways I never thought possible.

And, I have without a doubt the cheekiest of cats to entertain and annoy me each and every day.

A few weeks ago, The Cuban asked me what I wanted for my birthday. After thinking for a bit, I said, ‘This. Just this.’

I want for nothing except more time. How fucking lucky am I?

Thank you all for making this year simply incredible.

marimekko-chicken-1080p

The Cuban created this for me for my birthday. There’s being a spring chicken, and then there’s being a Marimekko chicken.

Run happy

Run happy.

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What’s a Caturday musing without a cat?

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Me and my chicken-loving guy during my 48th trip around the sun.

 

 

On ‘I Can’t Breathe’

by in Activism, books, Human Rights, Justice, Poverty, Racism, Random musings, reading, social justice and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I Can't Breathe: A Killing on Bay StreetI Can’t Breathe: A Killing on Bay Street by Matt Taibbi

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I can’t imagine anyone watching the video of the last minutes of Eric Garner’s life and not being utterly horrified. Horrified by the excessive use of force and complete lack of concern for a man’s life.

I also cannot imagine how haunted Matt Taibbi must be from the research and passion he put into this book. But, I’m glad he took on those ghosts and took such care into getting the narrative right. He succeeded in so many ways.

By all accounts, Eric Garner shouldn’t be dead. At least not because of an illegal choke-hold. But, he is, leaving a giant hole in his family’s life as well as the community he called home. By all accounts, the man responsible for choking him to death — Daniel Pantaleo — should have been held to account. He was not. In a rather twisted alter-reality, Pantaleo is viewed by many as the victim.

This book isn’t just about that fateful arrest and its aftermath. It’s about a system — in New York as well as the United States in general — that forces us all to examine our own ideas of community, safety and policing, and the consequences of attempting to ‘feel safe’. It’s about what we’re willing to allow police to do to feel safe. And, it’s about what we will accept as ‘the way it is’.

As much as I respect anyone who chooses a career in law enforcement, I also fear how far the justice system itself has gone to protect its members. When entire communities recount story after story after story of ‘walking while black’, being pulled from cars and brutally beaten for asking a question, and then charged with crimes they did not and could not possibly commit, we must recognise that something is broken. And, it’s not the windows.

Taibbi packs so much food-for-thought within this book. It’s heartbreaking, even more so when you consider living within the realities he describes so painstakingly. We know Eric Garner’s name because of the clear evidence of brutality captured on a cell phone. The world saw that video and collectively gasped. We gasped again when a grand jury came back with no indictment.

Taibbi begins this book by describing another event in Staten Island. Ibrahim ‘Brian’ Annan, a young man stopped by police around the same time Garner was choked, was pulled from his car and beaten so violently by two police officers that one leg was broken in three places. He was charged with a total of seven felonies, all of which were eventually dropped, a process which took nearly a dozen court appearances and more than two years. The charges lobbed against Annan were so absurd and so obviously intended to simply force him to relent even the judge presiding over the cases found them silly. Annan’s beating was not captured on film. And, whilst disabled, he lived to tell the story. But, sadly, this is not uncommon in Staten Island, in particular, or in other inner cities in general (think Baltimore and Freddie Grey). It is sadly not new, either. Taibbi also tells the tale of Clementine Ross, a woman who has been waiting 50 years for closure on the shooting of her husband by a cop in Arkansas. His crime? Asking for a receipt.

Matt Taibbi focuses on a killing on Bay Street. But, given all of the names of all those who have died before and since Eric Garner, individuals primarily unarmed and shot by law enforcement officials, I’m surprised any of us can breathe.

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Springing forward

by in #365grateful, Environment, Everyday Life, Finland, Helsinki, Random musings and tagged , , , | Leave a comment

As the world springs back to visible life in Helsinki each year, tiny seemingly imperceptible changes create what one friend referred to as a ‘green haze’. It’s incredible. And, such a contrast from the sepia monotones of winter.

Each evening as we stroll through our neighbourhood for our daily peripatetic spousal bonding sessions, we can’t help but notice the tiny explosions of life that seem to change immensely from one day to the next rather than from week to week.

Yesterday, we ventured down (and up) a path we’ve never explored before. The views from the top were truly stunning, particularly given the calm water below and the blue, blue skies above. And, everywhere that green haze of new leaves and grass and even moss and lichen.

Closer to ground, the buds of new leaves and fleeting fresh flowers provide close-up signs of that change from one season to another.

Regardless of the particular lens — macro or wide and expansive — these signs move us forward from the slumber of winter to the rejuvenation and rebirth of spring.

Every-day choices

by in #365grateful, Attitude, Everyday Life, Finland, Helsinki, Random musings, Running, Work and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

My schedule these days sucks, if I’m honest. My to-do lists are never-ending.

Between various job responsibilities and shuffling between campuses, volunteering for any number of science communication and university-based events and wanting and needing to spend quality time with my darling husband, I need longer days. Squeezing in a few mental health breaks for a run or a quilty pleasure book or sleep or cooking or any number of other ‘things’ seems absurdly luxurious. Time, much as life, is precious.

But, stepping away from the to-do lists is necessary. I’ve [perhaps] finally learned that lesson so obvious to so many. One item I am placing on my permanent to-do lists is scheduled mental health breaks. Some of these take the form of meditation or at least quieting the mind for a bit each day. Some of these breaks involve grabbing a book rather than my phone when on a bus.

More importantly, each day features some form of lacing up and heading out amongst the trails. When I can, I run. Because, I love running. Recently, the rewards of doing so have been priceless. I’m slow, and I feel horribly out of shape and far from race-ready. But, none of that really matters after a run. And, that’s what I’ve come to focus on lately. That and some of the stunning scenes and quieted mind or much-needed attitude adjustment offered as the minutes and kilometres tick by.

Spring in Helsinki isn’t necessarily gorgeous. Although it can be. Last week, after a rather surprise blizzard hit Helsinki, the views the next day along my run were absolutely incredible — there is nothing quite so lovely as fresh, pure-white snow bathed in abundant late winter sunshine. More than that, my mood after that particular run compared to when I laced up could not have been more different. I felt murderous when I left our flat. I was all about the rainbows and unicorns when I returned. That run was my adjusted my viewpoint enormously not just for that day, but for the days that followed as well.

As my schedule shifts yet again this week, I’m making choices. Why? Because there is only so much time in any one day and at least a portion of that time needs to be spent on preserving my sanity. Not just for me, but for just about everyone around me. So, I choose between accomplishing a few more bits of work each day or walking with my husband (when I don’t have class or haven’t just been on a run) or adjusting my attitude (by lacing up and running a few kms).

Most days, those runs and walks come with rewards. Walks with my husband feature much hilarity, and the opportunity to enjoy one another’s company without the constant pinging of email and messages of various sorts.

When I run, there is nothing else really. It’s an alternate form of meditation for me, one spent in constant movement rather than sat. (Perhaps that’s why it works better for me — sitting idly is torture on some days!) Last week, on that day when I wanted nothing more than to escape from quite literally everything, I accomplished a goal it took me until the end of June to reach last year. That goal might appear rather modest for most runners; for me, it was and is huge. A group I’m a part of consisting of crazy runners from across the globe all aim to run 1018 kms in the calendar year. Last year, I ran a whopping 371 km. My goal this year isn’t necessarily to reach 1018, although I will work towards it. I just want to beat what I accomplished last year. In 2017, it took me until 25 June to reach 100 km. This year, I achieved that milestone on 3 April. Something tells me I’ll hit 371 well before the end of 2018.

Regardless or perhaps against that target number, and regardless of whatever else may be on my to-do list, here’s to choosing me. Hopefully, by doing so, I can be the better, more-present and perhaps more patient version of myself for all those around me.

 

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Kids these days…

by in Action, Activism, Children, Education, Inspiration, Policy, Random musings, US Politics and tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I am astounded by the bravery and logic of kids today. I am also shamed by them.

We, the adults, have largely failed them. As we have argued and shouted into our own echo chambers, disregarding any voice of dissension, we’ve polarised ourselves into wider and and more disparate perspectives. The results have been stalemates and inaction.

We’ve forced kids to take stands for their own rights and own safety because we, the adults, have behaved like children. We have risked their lives and their safety, and have not allowed them, the kids, the simple luxury of being kids.

Today, these same kids will be marching for their own lives, not just in the US but across the globe in nearly 820 cities. And, many of us adults will be following their lead.

It shouldn’t take a Parkland or a Sandy Hook or a Columbine, let alone atrocities and scenes of carnage like that in Las Vegas, to spur action. In fact, little action other than shouting back and forth has taken place, at least at the adult table.

That is, until the kids started making noise. And, asking questions. And, speaking up and organising. Maybe they should be in charge?

A friend posted a screen shot of a letter sent out to the parents of a school in some average place in the US alerting them to a possible ‘threat’ at the school. Her daughter opted to stay home the next day, and quite rightly was extremely upset by what might happen. Another friend’s four-year-old, when telling his parents about his day, recounted an ‘active shooter drill’ at their daycare facility just after Parkland. Four years old. Let that sink in for a moment. What were you telling your parents about your day when you were four?

These are but two instances of hundreds from amongst my network in the US. And, these do not include the many posts from teacher friends not just afraid for their students, but for themselves. Every. Damn. Day.

Personally, I don’t like guns, and decided long ago that they would not be a part of my life and would not be allowed in my home. That is my choice and my right. I now live in a country with fairly strict gun control laws, and I feel safer for it. As civilians, I do not think we need to have access to things like AR-15s, nor do I think anyone should be able to buy as many bullets as they want. Again, these are my personal opinions. Would I like to see a world without guns? Very much so. Do I think that is at a reasonable possibility or position? Nope.

Regardless of my personal beliefs opinions, we must talk about policy options and allow research to understand why so many die in massive shootings in the US. We must find common ground and consensus to move beyond where we stand now. To my mind, kids these days are providing the adults with a path towards action.

Today, as I sit behind my desk adulting working, I am also applauding all those marching. I stand with you all, particularly with you kids these days. I’d prefer you enjoy the silliness of just being kids. But, I’m incredibly glad and proud that you are taking the lead. May we all follow your lead. (And, please remember to register and vote!)

SchoolSupplies_Poster_ShaneSmith(1)

Running on ice

by in Action, Attitude, Everyday Life, Finland, Random musings, Running and tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

I should have been running on ice since we returned from our holiday in the sun. To put it incredibly simply, I have not. I’ve lost my running mojo. And I blame it entirely on… me.

Despite my best intentions, despite my desire to train and be ready for not one but two half marathons this May and June, respectively, it’s time I admit that I won’t be. Not even close to ready.

I certainly won’t be ready for anything until I hold myself accountable and get out there and hit the trails once again.

So, how do I reignite that running fire and get out there more than once a week?

Perhaps it’s cosmic coincidence that landed a link on the 10 laws of productivity in my news feed today. This week, I have thought so many times about wanting to run, but simply can’t seem to lace up. So, any link that mentions my fellow runner and eclectic music lover, and favourite author Haruki Murakami is certainly going to rank high amongst the reads of day. Combine that with a bit of self-reflection on re-establishing some necessary and beloved habits, and I’m in.

The truth is, I’m a bit intimidated by that number: 13.1. Thirteen-point-one miles, all in one go. Can I do that? I’d like to channel that little engine that could and say, ‘I think I can’. But, the voice of doubt creeps in just as I think about lacing up.

The trick, I know, is to quiet that particular voice, and allow all of the other cheerleaders to drown out the dissenting opinions. Deep down, I know that anything is possible, as long as I just get going and believe. But, my journey of however many steps there are in 13.1 miles will never get started until I train for it. And, I know that the hardest part of any run is simply lacing up and getting out the door.

So, borrowing from Murakami and those laws of productivity, I shall develop a routine and start small. I will break this little journey up into smaller chunks and phases, the first of which entails that routine and starting small.

And, when I fall behind or can’t quite accomplish what I want, I’ll forgive myself first and then regroup.

Running on Ice

I’d like to blame my lack of motivation on the weather. But, it’s gorgeous when running in snow.