Posts Tagged ‘love’

The Post – Faith is Believing in Something When Common Sense Tells You Not To

June 17, 2008

Something about summer’s heat always makes me stop and think about Christmas and all it stands for. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just that at June, we’re half a year’s away from those times of generosity and remembering Jesus’s birth, and all that He stood for.

Whenever I think of Christmas, there are certain rituals I remember and savor. One of them is watching my absolute favorite movie for Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, the 1947 version, in my opinion, the only true …and magical version. Yes, it’s another one of those simplistic happy movies, like It’s a Wonderful Life, or Come to the Stable, movies with uncomplicated people who just know what the season and its “intangible” gifts are all about…and yes, I love the movie. Apparently so did the cast.

In an interview with Maureen O’Hara several years ago she mentioned how she was vacationing in Ireland when she was told to return to make this movie. She was angry and didn’t want to do it. Yet when she read the script she changed her mind. In another interview, she commented that there was something that happened during the making of this movie that made them all feel happy and at peace. After a while, they all started believing Edmund Gwynne [the actor playing Kris Kringle] really was Santa Claus. She noted that the energy on the set was positive, almost magical. I know, watching the movie, that’s how I feel.

I found a site called Script-O-Rama that has scripts of many movies, Miracle on 34th Street, included. While a few errors here and there (that I corrected below from my own copy of the movie), the web author does have a pretty good copy of the movie’s script.

I included a couple excerpts from the movie’s script, including the pivotal scene that to me, sums up the movie’s message succinctly – that faith is believing in something when common sense tells you not to, and that ultimately, the intangibles in life, such as love and joy, are the only things that ARE worthwhile.

So for your reading pleasure, a summertime glimpse at Miracle on 34th Street!

___________________

In the courtroom, attorney, Fred Gailey [John Payne], sets everyone abuzz when he states at the beginning of the trial:

I intend to prove that Mr. Kringle is Santa Claus.

The next scene puts him at the apartment of the woman he’s been dating, Doris [Maureen O’Hara]. She is the very effective, logical, and all-business executive at Macy’s Department Store and doesn’t share Gailey’s enthusiasm for this idealistic quest:

DORIS: But you can’t possibly prove that he’s Santa Claus.

GAILEY: Why not? You saw Macy and Gimbel shaking hands. [Something Kris Kringle brought about because of his contagious joy] That wasn’t possible either, but it happened.

DORIS: Honestly…

GAILEY: It’s the best defense I can use. Completely logical and completely unexpected.

DORIS: And completely idiotic. What about your bosses… Haislip and Mackenzie and the rest of them? What do they say?

GAILEY: That I am jeopardizing the prestige and dignity of an old, established law firm and either I drop this impossible case immediately…or they will drop me.

DORIS: See?

GAILEY: I beat them to it. I quit.

DORIS: Fred, you didn’t.

GAILEY: Of course I did. I can’t let Kris down. He needs me, and all the rest of us need him.

DORIS: Look darling, he’s a nice old man and I admire you for wanting to help him, but you’ve got to be realistic and face facts. You can’t just throw your career away because of a sentimental whim.

GAILEY: But I’m not throwing my career away.

DORIS:But if Haislip feels that way so will every other law firm in town.

GAILEY: I’m sure they will. Then I’ll open my own office.

DORIS: And what kind of cases will you get?

GAILEY: Oh, probably a lot of people like Kris that are being pushed around. That’s the only fun in law anyway. But I promise you, if you believe in me and have faith in me everything will… You don’t have any faith in me, do you?

DORIS: It’s not a question of faith. It’s just common sense.

GAILEY: Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to….Don’t you see, it’s not just Kris that’s on trial. It’s everything he stands for.

DORIS: Oh Fred.

GAILEY: It’s kindness, and joy, and love, and all the other intangibles.

DORIS: Oh, Fred, you’re talking like a child. You’re living in a realistic world and those lovely intangibles of yours are attractive but not worth very much. You don’t get ahead that way.

GAILEY: That all depends on what you call getting ahead. Evidently, you and I have different definitions.

DORIS: These last few days we’ve talked about some wonderful plans, but then you go on an idealistic binge. You give up your job, you throw away all your security…and then you expect me to be happy about it!

GAILEY: Yes, I guess I expected too much…. Look Doris, someday you’re going to find out that your way of facing this realistic world just doesn’t work. And when you do, don’t overlook those lovely intangibles. You’ll discover they’re the only things that are worthwhile.

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The Gift

March 30, 2008

“I will reveal to you a love potion, without medicine, without herbs, without any witch’s magic; if you want to be loved, then love.”

Hecaton of Rhodes

The Gift – A Good Friday Extra

March 21, 2008

On the day of ultimate forgiveness and love:

“Never criticize or condemn–or it will all come back on you. Go easy on others; then they will do the same for you….For the measure you give, will be the measure you get back.” (Luke 6:37)

“…and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…” (from the Lord’s Prayer)

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (Luke 6:31)

The Gift

March 12, 2008

“When our heart is full of love, then we are creating more love, peace, and joy in the world. When we send the energy of love and compassion to another person, it doesn’t matter if they know we are sending it. The important thing is that the energy is there and the heart of love is there and is being sent out into the world. When love and compassion are present in us, and we send them outward, then that is truly prayer.”

Thich Nhat Hanh, from his book, The Energy of Prayer: How to Deepen Your Spiritual Practice

The Gift

February 27, 2008

A love story of a different kind – a writer’s love story: 84 Charing Cross Road, with Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins.

If you want the full story behind the movie, I recommend the two books:

84 Charing Cross Road, by Helene Hanff

The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, by Helene Hanff

The Post – Twenty Years of Marriage

February 27, 2008

A time out, today, from both my writing journey posts and my fiddler crab posts. No new info on the latter yet, by the way. It’s like pregnant women past their due date – you just wait and don’t ask if the contractions have started yet.

Today is a special day. It is our twentieth wedding anniversary. It is a milestone, and worth taking time out to honor. The years have gone quickly, sprinkled with child-raising, dogs, sick parents, near-death experiences, heart-ache, joy, aging. A good mix for life I’d say. As I’ve noted, we are both geeks in our own ways, and as such, we understand each other. I just wanted to take a moment today to honor my best friend, and I figured he would enjoy and understand the movie reference below. He and I speak in movie references – lines from movies that capture the emotion of a moment for us. Over the years we have accumulated a collection of lines from hundreds of movies. They have become a kind of coded communication between us.

This particular movie is called 84 Charing Cross Road. Anne Bancroft stars. Her husband, Mel Brooks, purchased the rights to produce it – his gift of love to her, knowing how much she loved the story.

It’s the true story of a New York City writer, Helene Hanff – a person kind of like me – no bullsh–, doesn’t mince words, very “unglamorous.” She has a sharp, but kind sense of humor and a great heart. Helene LOVED English literature, but in late 1940s New York City where the movie begins, she could not find any English literature books except at the library. Then she discovered Marks & Co. and began a decades-long correspondence with them. The story is told through her letters. From the opening of the movie:

“October 5, 1949, to Marks and Co., 84 Charing Cross Road, London, WC2, England. Gentlemen, Your ad in the Saturday Review of Literature says that you specialize in out-of-print books. The phrase “antiquarian bookseller” scares me somewhat as I equate antique with expensive. I am a poor writer with an antiquarian taste in books and all the things I want are impossible to get over here except in very expensive rare editions. I enclose a list of my most pressing problems. If you have any clean second-hand copies of any of the books on the list for no more than $5 each, would you consider this a purchase order and send them to me?”

Thus begins her relationship with the very proper bookseller at Marks & Co., “FPD.” FPD, over letters and time becomes Frank Doel, then simply, “Frank.” It’s a love story, but not the usual kind. They live an ocean apart, have different lives, and he is married with daughters. Happily married. So no, there are no hot sex scenes, the crutch of most modern movies. Yet it is a love story, anyway, because true love at its deepest is about caring, generosity, and the connection of souls. It is not limited by the relationship but can be felt for spouses, friends, relatives, neighbors. Their friendship enlarges their lives, expanding to include his wife, neighbors, daughters, other workers at the bookshop, her friends. Their love is about adding something to each of their lives, not taking things away or destroying things. It is about understanding each other, and that is the quality of love that sustains it, whether in marriage or friendship, well into old age. And frankly, a marriage that lasts well into old age is as much about friendship, as anything else.

Throughout the movie, she revels in the old books she buys, books better for having been owned by someone else first. Again, it is a love of connection to others, even those she never met. She says: “I love inscriptions on fly-leafs and notes in margins. I like the camaraderie-sense of turning pages someone else turned and reading passages someone long gone has called my attention to.” She can’t get enough of the books. Frank finds them for her.

By the end of the movie, he is “Frankie” to her, and she tells him, “You’re the only soul alive who understands me.” It’s a sentiment that reflects a bond where you are known deeply, valued, and most importantly, accepted. Your truth is safe in the hands of another. Whether two people are the same or very different matters not if there is acceptance. When someone knows our deepest places, our vulnerabilities, and accepts us, they give us the best of gifts. The wish to be understood and accepted is one of the bonds that links us all. These are things I have felt for and from my husband.

At one point a friend of Helene’s made it to England and visited the book store. She wrote Helene with a description:

“It’s the loveliest old shop straight out of Dickens. You would go absolutely out of your mind over it….It’s dim inside. You can smell the shop before you see it. It’s a lovely smell. I can’t articulate it easily but it combines must and dust and age and walls of wood and floors of wood…The shelves go on forever. They go up to the ceiling and they’re very old and kind of gray, like old oak that absorbed so much dust over the years they no longer are their true color.”

Such a visceral, sensual description. It was a description both my husband and I fell in love with immediately when we heard it. It is a place we hope yet, to be.

At one point in the movie Helene writes to Frank:

“I require a book of love poems with Spring coming on. No Keats or Shelley. Send me poets who can make love without slobbering. Wyatt or Johnson or somebody. Use your own judgment. Just a nice book, preferably small enough to stick in a slacks pocket and take to Central Park.”

Late in the movie, Frank is shown, reflecting on her as a Yeats love poem runs through his mind. The moment, and the poem, are my gifts to my husband, my best friend. Thank you for these last 20 years. They’ve gone so fast. I’d like 20 times 20 more, and if time allows, I’d like yet to walk into 84 Charing Cross Road with you.

So to “Eddie,” all my love, and to you and all romantics out there, a poet who can make love without slobbering:

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths,
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats (1865-1939). The Wind Among the Reeds. 1899.

The Post – Nursery Update, Ethics, Parenthood, Friendship, and Just Being a Mere Mortal

February 25, 2008

Just a quick note this morning as I’m on the run. The next installment of my author journey is partially written. Those take me a bit more time. Pondering, reflecting, remembering. Lots to sift through. So those will resume this week.

For now, just to update – Scarlett O’Hara is still alive in the new tank – the “nursery.” Frankly, I was worried. I’d have felt better if I’d set that tank up last week and it had a week to run and settle out. I just hadn’t come to the point of “embracing” trying to raise larval crabs and when I did finally decide this weekend to try, it seemed like birth was imminent. Kind of a go/no-go response needed to be made ASAP.

Last night she just wouldn’t settle down in the new tank. Kept running back and forth, kept trying to climb the sides of the tank. Was there something wrong with the water that was hurting her? All the parameters looked great, in fact the water in the new tank was better than the original – that one’s overdue for a water exchange and the nitrites and nitrates in that tank are rising. So this one is actually healthier. However, certainly there’s other parameters I can’t measure. So my worry was that I’d put her in something I thought was better for her, but maybe I was killing her and couldn’t tell?

I wondered if she was just disoriented and couldn’t find a place to climb out of the water to get air. I noticed air bubbles escaping from her mouth at one point and was afraid she would “drown.” She has this lovely live rock with all kinds of crevices she could hide in, better than her old live rock, AND it’s much bigger so she can climb on top of it, but I thought that maybe in her stress she couldn’t find it. So I scooped extra gravel out of the original tank and put it in the new one and built her two gravel hills so she could walk up the hill and be partly out of water. She found them, but that didn’t seem to be the problem. She just kept running back and forth and climbing the walls.

My husband wondered if she simply couldn’t understand why the sides of this tank were so clean and where was all the microscopic algae she likes to eat? The other tank, though the glass sides look clear, apparently have microscopic algae on them because the crabs are always “picking stuff off” the sides and eating it.

Or maybe she was just so stressed out, she couldn’t relax and would kill herself with exhaustion?

I also noted last night that the formerly clear water in the new tank was now cloudy. I was convinced something awful was taking hold and maybe the live rock had something bad in it. If so, you would expect the nitrites to be rising. I repeated all parameters last night and the water looked good.

So by this point, who is more stressed? Her or me?

My husband said little, just said “It’ll be what it’ll be. You’ve done all you can.” I told him it’s not easy being “God.” He patted my back and said “At least not a God who cares.”

Anyway, I struggled with “should I just bag this whole thing and put her back in the original tank?” I decided not to add any more stress to her by moving her back. One of those – just let it go and see what happens, moments.

This morning the tank looks less cloudy. My husband said he came down and she was sitting quietly in the water, “tending” to her egg mass – ie – giving it pushes and pokes, as if turning them. When I came down, she had found her way to the top of the live rock and was just sitting there on top of her world, soaking up heat from the lights and appearing totally relaxed. (Or is she dead? Should I poke her? πŸ™‚ Just kidding).

All joking aside about my being so worried, I guess I felt guilty. As I said to my husband – Did I put her at risk of dying because I so wanted to try and raise the babies? Did my ego cause harm in this and should I have just left it all alone?

The ethical questions are never clear or easily answered. It’s like being a parent. You try your best, knowing that even when you do, you don’t know if you’ve made the right choices. And in your less than perfect moments, and we all have them, you wonder, will they be okay? Why does God entrust such a big job to mere mortals?

I think Lee Woodruff’s final comments in her book, In An Instant, apply here, at least for being parents, maybe not for being God to fiddler crabs. She worried about how her kids were affected by all the turmoil and intensity when her reporter husband, Bob, was in the hospital with a head injury. She had to be away for long periods to be with him. Things were in an upheaval even though family and friends were looking after things. I so loved her observations, because they are the truth. In thanking her kids she added:

“May you always remember that there are no perfect parents, just mothers and fathers doing the very best they can. And there are no perfect spouses either, just those who love each other enough to stand by “for better or worse.” Don’t be fooled: that kind of endurance is, perhaps, the greatest expression of love.”

I think she could only come to that lesson because of the messiness of life. I think it’s the messy low moments that teach us the most about being human, and about understanding the “human moments” in others. Those times teach us about being compassionate to ourselves and to others, especially when life is at its least pretty. We all want to look like we’ve got it together. Sometimes we do. Sometimes we don’t. Life gets messy. Thomas Moore, a former Catholic monk, in his book, Care of the Soul, I book I read, reread, dog-ear, highlight…in three different colors, quotes something from the Renaissance humanist Erasmus, that applies. Erasmus wrote in his book, The Praise of Folly, that “people are joined in friendship through their foolishness. Community cannot be sustained at too high a level. It thrives in the valleys of the soul rather than in the heights of spirit.”

So, from one very imperfect human, friend, wife, mother, fiddler crab God, go gently into your Monday. It’s really okay, no matter how it goes.

The Gift – a writer’s extra

February 20, 2008

I absolutely LOVE diners. They were part of the world I grew up in. To me they were places of love, connection, friendship, community and sustenance. I still feel that way. They also factor very strongly in both my current novel-in-progress, Under the Pier, and a chapter book/novel-in-progress, Diner Kids.

I also feel very strongly about our kids. All of them. It matters to me that they all have a shot at happy, productive lives no matter where they live.

I came across an interesting program when I found the web site for the American Diner Museum in Providence, Rhode Island. I had a chance to interview Daniel Zilka, the museum director, and learned about two important projects they sponsor. Through those programs both at-risk youth and historic diners stand to benefit. As my gift back to diners and those kids, I pass on this info:

Important News About Diners at the American Diner Museum:

The American Diner Museum in Providence, RI not only records and preserves the history of diners in America, but it is actively involved in preserving and restoring both the diners and our youth in today’s world. They have two ongoing programs:

The Diner Rescue Fund: a fund from donations to restore and preserve historic diners in America

The New Hope Project/Diner Restoration Fund: A project with The American Diner Museum and the Rhode Island Training School to restore old diners and save at-risk youth. From the New Hope Project web page:

“The Rhode Island Training School saw a need for enhanced vocational training for the student population and the American Diner Museum visualized new hope for diners that it was trying to save from demolition”

The project teaches youth skills from carpentry and cooking to business management. The diners are restored by the youth and are either displayed or will be used as functioning diners, possibly staffed and run by these youth.

This whole thing is summed up best in a quote from the RITS Community Liaison, John Scott, in an October 31, 2007 article by Joe Kernan in the Warwick Beacon Online :

β€œThe poetry in all of this is that the students of the RITS, a population that society turns away from, is going to save historic structures that society has turned away from.”

The Rhode Island Training School (RITS) is part of The Juvenile Corrections Division of the Rhode Island Department of Children, Youth & Families.

The links above contain information about the programs and places to send any donations.

The Post – When You’re Mad, Give a Gift?

February 8, 2008

Yesterday morning’s reading for my online spirituality course with Thich Nhat Hanh was counter-intuitive to say the least. Some might read it and say “in your dreams.” Others might look at it and say, “That’s manipulative.” But I read it, and in spite of myself, I really did understand it. In fact, I’ve felt it happen now and then.

His words:

“There may be times when you are angry with someone, and you try everything you can to transform your anger, but nothing seems to work. In this case, the Buddha proposes that you give the other person a present. It sounds childish, but it is very effective. When we’re angry with someone, we want to hurt them. Giving them a present changes that into wanting to make them happy. So, when you are angry with someone, send him a present. After you have sent it, you will stop being angry with him. It’s very simple, and it always works.

Don’t wait until you get angry to go and buy the present. When you feel very grateful, when you feel you love him or her so much, then go and buy the present right away. But don’t send it; don’t give it to the other person yet. Keep it. You may have the luxury of having two or three presents stored secretly in your drawer. Later, when you feel angry, take one out and deliver it. It is very effective. The Buddha was very smart.”

Thich Nhat Hanh in Anger: Wisdom for Cooling the Flames

Now at first thought, the idea of giving someone a gift when you want to throttle them, seems impossible, even laughable. Maybe something that blows up? But a real, honest-to-goodness gift? I don’t think so.

And the other person might think: “What’s this? You trying to make me feel guilty and manipulate me into liking you again? You’ve got hopes. Now I’m even angrier at you for pulling this!”

Yet, all skepticism aside, I know what he means and hard as it can be at that moment, it’s true. And it’s not childish. Child-like maybe. A big difference which I’ll mention below.

There have been times when I was angry with my husband and all sense of love and remembering “why I married him” evaporated into fantasies of how best to wring his neck. I’m sure he felt the same way. Revenge plots, not gift ideas, were the order of the day. Yet even in that moment there was that small voice that said “Do you love him?” And of course, the answer deep down was , “Yessss. I love him.” And the voice would answer, “Then if you love him, you cannot act that way.”

I’d remember that if something were to suddenly threaten him, I’d be right there by his side to protect or help him. I’d also remember the many good things shared, times his love saved me, the times things he did just melted my heart. The moment of capitulation would soon follow.

The moment of capitulation when trying to “hold your grudge” is the moment when you want to hate, but instead you remember and feel even a tiny inkling of your love. You feel frustrated with the Universe, for sure. My thoughts would run something like: “I really wanted my pound of flesh and instead, here’s the Universe deflating a good rage.” You feel the struggle of “But I’m mad at him,” versus “He’s my friend and I hate this. Can we just get back to being friends?”

The times that I’ve tried the counter-intuitive approach and gave in to the part that loves, it was like a crack in the dam of anger. By offering even just some tidbit of a compliment, or telling him something like “I’m really upset because I love you and I hate being at odds with you,” it was the thing that started to bring us both back to center. By refraining from revenge and instead remembering the love, by trusting to kindness instead of attacking, it made “space” for things to change. It became safe for both of us to leave our entrenched, polarized fortresses, hold up a flag of truce, meet in the middle, and discuss terms of surrender. And by the way, surrender is not “losing.” It’s “yielding” to a greater good. It’s the meeting of two to make something bigger and better than either one of us . . . or our egos.

I liked Thich Nhat Hanh’s idea to have a few gifts around, and to buy them when you are feeling those warm loving emotions for that person. The feelings will be stored in those gifts. When you take them out during anger, those objects release the good feelings back to you. What you stored in them – goodwill, love, the reminder that there are still good things between you – is like money in the bank you can withdraw at that moment. They are the tangible evidence that love existed, and they are the catalysts that start the process of softening the anger.

So perhaps it’s not so strange an idea after all, if you can just swallow the ego. I can see where it can bring things back from the brink. The gifts can be small – even a funny or loving card, just something that captures what is shared in the good moments. And it’s the lesson we can learn from kids.

If you watch kids play, one minute they’re fighting, two minutes later they’re friends again. Somebody picks up their marbles and runs home. A few minutes later they’re calling to ask if you can come over to play. Kids have the ability to live in the moment, not store up hostilities. They clear the air and move on. That’s probably what Thich Nhat Hanh meant by childish. I prefer the term “child-like” though. Childish can imply selfish, insensitive, immature. Child-like implies the best of being young – the ability to flow with things, to have an open mind, to be in the moment, to find awe in even the simplest things. Jesus said that we had to become like the little child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I believe He meant the same thing as Thich Nhat Hanh.

In any event, one thing I do concur with for sure: The gifts should be bought when happy. I’d hate to see what I’d come home with during rage. πŸ™‚