Sunday, November 28, 2010
Deer Like Birdseed--Who Knew?
Our highlight during the Thanksgiving meal was the arrival of a deer leaping over the fence into the neighbor's yard. It was brown with black tips on the fur and a black tail, a different variety than those I have seen here, which have white tails and brown fur with no tips. There were two pencil-thin antlers. It entertained us by emptying a two liter bottle of birdseed in the course of twenty minutes, greedily sucking or licking the seeds from the feeder.
Bellingham Adventures
Monday, November 22, Tacoma WA was hit with a blizzard that made the local roads treacherous. I could hear sirens most of the morning; my foray out to return library materials was aborted due to ice. [Usually snow in the morning melts by the afternoon.] I had decided to travel to Bellingham for Thanksgiving week with my daughter, going early in the week to be able to visit with my niece and her nearly three-year-old boy while they were in town. As my finances are gravely restricted, my sister bought us train tickets. It was dicey catching a cab to the train station, due to high demand, but we made it early and had a pleasant evening ride to Bellingham. The train halted many times on leaving stations, to send the conductors out to clear the switches.
My first view of Bellingham was of sheets of ice on the roads, which my sister and family navigated with ease, whether walking or driving. I was terrified of falling, and reminded why I moved away from Eastern Washington. Our visit was wonderful, and our longest visit since my sister married and moved away in 1968. We revisited our childhood, trying to solve mysteries explaining my peculiar emotional roadblocks: since Jean is about 7 years older, she was in a position to observe what went on in the family while I was an infant. We compared notes. This was illuminating and healing.
Tuesday my daughter and I, along with Jean and my niece and great-nephew, visited my nephew Robin and his twins who are just about 2 1/2. He has a daughter and a son, as well as a thirteen year-old stepson. Three toddlers playing with trains on wooden tracks in the living room. This is the first age where they were able to interact, not just parallel playing. I had brought a small frog puppet from Teaching Toys in my pocket, not sure when the time would come for him to make an appearance.
The two boys, Paul and Hewson, made an instant male bond on our arrival, and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Hazel alone and bereft. Suddenly a frog tapped Hazel on the shoulder and they were instant, delighted friends.
This house was delightful, purple on the exterior, purple, lavender, lime green on the inside, with wooden dulcimer, mandolin and so forth on the walls and a concertina on the very piano that was in my house while I was growing up. It has found a noble home. In the kitchen was a gas stove [how I miss cooking with gas!] and a butternut and delicata squash on the counters. I felt quite at home.
At the Thanksgiving table with ten family and friends, all adults, I realized there was one person with Cerebral Palsy, a very bright and intelligent young man; someone with Parkinson's, someone with a past brain injury, and someone with Autism who communicated with a lettered board. With her mother assisting her by stabilizing her hand while she spelled out words, I thought there was a slight Ouija Board aspect to the process, but it worked. She mainly wanted to return to the motel for peace and quiet, which I could relate to. But quite a bit of medical diversity.
Friday we returned by train, this time by daylight. I tend to assume that Amtrak tracks will meander by themselves off into the wilderness so there will be a lot of scenery to look at. While the train does follow the coastline and we could look out across the ocean at groups of plovers [?], white-headed ducklike birds resting in flocks on the waves, and cormorants perching on poles in the water, we also saw a lot of backyards sporting household detritus, antique autos in various states of repair, and so forth.
At Tacoma again, we called another cab and I returned just in time to turn around and head out to a Holy Day observance called the Day of the Covenant, which is celebrated because the Center of the Covenant, 'Abdu'l-Baha, did not wish His birthday celebrated, and appointed this day in lieu of that. We read some tablets concerning the Covenant in the Baha'i Faith, unique for the first world religion to have a written covenant securing the succession of the heads of the Faith and preventing the Faith from splitting into countless warring sects.
It has been a wonderful journey and a break from the stress and strain of continual job-hunting.
My first view of Bellingham was of sheets of ice on the roads, which my sister and family navigated with ease, whether walking or driving. I was terrified of falling, and reminded why I moved away from Eastern Washington. Our visit was wonderful, and our longest visit since my sister married and moved away in 1968. We revisited our childhood, trying to solve mysteries explaining my peculiar emotional roadblocks: since Jean is about 7 years older, she was in a position to observe what went on in the family while I was an infant. We compared notes. This was illuminating and healing.
Tuesday my daughter and I, along with Jean and my niece and great-nephew, visited my nephew Robin and his twins who are just about 2 1/2. He has a daughter and a son, as well as a thirteen year-old stepson. Three toddlers playing with trains on wooden tracks in the living room. This is the first age where they were able to interact, not just parallel playing. I had brought a small frog puppet from Teaching Toys in my pocket, not sure when the time would come for him to make an appearance.
The two boys, Paul and Hewson, made an instant male bond on our arrival, and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Hazel alone and bereft. Suddenly a frog tapped Hazel on the shoulder and they were instant, delighted friends.
This house was delightful, purple on the exterior, purple, lavender, lime green on the inside, with wooden dulcimer, mandolin and so forth on the walls and a concertina on the very piano that was in my house while I was growing up. It has found a noble home. In the kitchen was a gas stove [how I miss cooking with gas!] and a butternut and delicata squash on the counters. I felt quite at home.
At the Thanksgiving table with ten family and friends, all adults, I realized there was one person with Cerebral Palsy, a very bright and intelligent young man; someone with Parkinson's, someone with a past brain injury, and someone with Autism who communicated with a lettered board. With her mother assisting her by stabilizing her hand while she spelled out words, I thought there was a slight Ouija Board aspect to the process, but it worked. She mainly wanted to return to the motel for peace and quiet, which I could relate to. But quite a bit of medical diversity.
Friday we returned by train, this time by daylight. I tend to assume that Amtrak tracks will meander by themselves off into the wilderness so there will be a lot of scenery to look at. While the train does follow the coastline and we could look out across the ocean at groups of plovers [?], white-headed ducklike birds resting in flocks on the waves, and cormorants perching on poles in the water, we also saw a lot of backyards sporting household detritus, antique autos in various states of repair, and so forth.
At Tacoma again, we called another cab and I returned just in time to turn around and head out to a Holy Day observance called the Day of the Covenant, which is celebrated because the Center of the Covenant, 'Abdu'l-Baha, did not wish His birthday celebrated, and appointed this day in lieu of that. We read some tablets concerning the Covenant in the Baha'i Faith, unique for the first world religion to have a written covenant securing the succession of the heads of the Faith and preventing the Faith from splitting into countless warring sects.
It has been a wonderful journey and a break from the stress and strain of continual job-hunting.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Root, Part 4--Martha Root
O that I could travel, even though on foot and in the utmost poverty, to these regions, and, raising the call of "Ya Baha'u'l-'Abha" in cities, villages, mountains, deserts and oceans, promote the divine teaching! This, alas, I cannot do. How intensely I deplore it! Please God, ye may achieve it. ~'Abdu'l-Baha.
When I reflect on the Baha'i law of the Right of God, which entails returning to God a fraction of my excess income, which rightfully belongs to God, with increasing clarity I remember what I think of as the "Martha Root Standard." Martha Root was a Baha'i who traveled the world, beginning in 1915 and throughout the 1920's and 30's. She sacrificed everything to teach the Baha'i Faith, traveling around the world in the utmost poverty and illness, but teaching a multitude of people the Baha'i Faith.
All I can really remember from reading about Martha Root, however, is that she lived very simply for the sake of economy. I remember reading that a typical dinner for her was a boiled egg. She was completely consecrated to Baha'u'llah. Clearly, Martha Root lived only on what she actually needed. So when I think of Martha Root, I think of boiled eggs. And vice versa.
What am I doing here? All the time I made so much income, the bulk of which was virtually wasted on this house, I was in a way miserable. Partly because of the misery and stress of the job, and partly because I had lost track of why I am here. To travel this journey in the path of God and rely on God for every step. To derive my joy, not from what I can buy here on this material plane, but from doing whatever I can in the path of God.
When I reflect on the Baha'i law of the Right of God, which entails returning to God a fraction of my excess income, which rightfully belongs to God, with increasing clarity I remember what I think of as the "Martha Root Standard." Martha Root was a Baha'i who traveled the world, beginning in 1915 and throughout the 1920's and 30's. She sacrificed everything to teach the Baha'i Faith, traveling around the world in the utmost poverty and illness, but teaching a multitude of people the Baha'i Faith.
All I can really remember from reading about Martha Root, however, is that she lived very simply for the sake of economy. I remember reading that a typical dinner for her was a boiled egg. She was completely consecrated to Baha'u'llah. Clearly, Martha Root lived only on what she actually needed. So when I think of Martha Root, I think of boiled eggs. And vice versa.
What am I doing here? All the time I made so much income, the bulk of which was virtually wasted on this house, I was in a way miserable. Partly because of the misery and stress of the job, and partly because I had lost track of why I am here. To travel this journey in the path of God and rely on God for every step. To derive my joy, not from what I can buy here on this material plane, but from doing whatever I can in the path of God.
The Root, Part 3
This is the way I became blind when I was earning so much income. I have little to show for it now. I became attached to my income, attached to my house, and eventually confused and unable to discern what is necessary to live on, as opposed to what is merely delightful, pleasant, or even comfortable. Aware that middle-class Americans live like royalty in comparison with many inside and outside the USA, I felt guilty.
I was striving to express emotional independence by my financial independence, and ended up with an attitude somewhat lacking in humility. Money was not an object. If I wanted something, I bought it. Yet I was confused how to apply that Baha'i law, the Right of God.
This is the beauty of living in a world replete with adversity. I became so stressed in my work that I lost my job, lost my income. I was seized with mortal terror. [I have to confess I still have that, when I pay attention.] I have responsibilities. It was necessary to contact the companies I pay for services and humbly inform them why I could not meet my obligations.
Baha'u'llah informs us that while we see calamity as fire and vengeance, inwardly it is light and mercy. This is the beauty of adversity. Although it can be painful and terrifying [and often unjust] it presents a golden opportunity for growth and learning.
Although I am a long way from a complete understanding of the law of the Right of God, in this situation where it has become monumentally significant how I use every cent, the difference between what I want and what I actually need has gained enormous clarity.
I was striving to express emotional independence by my financial independence, and ended up with an attitude somewhat lacking in humility. Money was not an object. If I wanted something, I bought it. Yet I was confused how to apply that Baha'i law, the Right of God.
This is the beauty of living in a world replete with adversity. I became so stressed in my work that I lost my job, lost my income. I was seized with mortal terror. [I have to confess I still have that, when I pay attention.] I have responsibilities. It was necessary to contact the companies I pay for services and humbly inform them why I could not meet my obligations.
Baha'u'llah informs us that while we see calamity as fire and vengeance, inwardly it is light and mercy. This is the beauty of adversity. Although it can be painful and terrifying [and often unjust] it presents a golden opportunity for growth and learning.
Although I am a long way from a complete understanding of the law of the Right of God, in this situation where it has become monumentally significant how I use every cent, the difference between what I want and what I actually need has gained enormous clarity.
The Root, Part 2
Our purpose in being created as spiritual beings is not just to survive, have fun, or dominate the world. We are here to unfold and develop our true nature as spiritual beings, connect with each other in positive ways, and connect with our Creator, that Unknowable Essence. This is our opportunity while we are here. We may use it or not.
We cannot grow and flourish without adversity. That is the great advantage of the material plane. It forces us to overcome tribulation. In this era of the maturation of humanity, we have been given laws which we adhere to by choice. Although the material substance, wine, is not allowed by Baha'u'llah, He uses wine repeatedly in His Writings as a potent metaphor. Think not that We have revealed unto you a mere code of laws. Nay, rather, We have unsealed the choice Wine with the fingers of might and power. ~ Baha'u'llah.
One of the Baha'i laws I have struggled to understand is called "The Right of God." The idea is that whatever income or assets we have, since they come from God, by right belong to God. So there is a tax, a small percentage of whatever assets we have over and above what we need in order to live, payable to the Universal House of Justice.
Well, what do we need in order to live? That is the big question. There is no Baha'i I.R.S. There is no governing body telling us, dictating to us, what we truly need, nor standing by to wrest it from us. This Right of God is not acceptable unless given freely, with joy. We pick and choose, according to our conscience, what is necessary to support us.
My theory is that the more attached we are to the material world, and the more money we have, the harder this discernment can become.
We cannot grow and flourish without adversity. That is the great advantage of the material plane. It forces us to overcome tribulation. In this era of the maturation of humanity, we have been given laws which we adhere to by choice. Although the material substance, wine, is not allowed by Baha'u'llah, He uses wine repeatedly in His Writings as a potent metaphor. Think not that We have revealed unto you a mere code of laws. Nay, rather, We have unsealed the choice Wine with the fingers of might and power. ~ Baha'u'llah.
One of the Baha'i laws I have struggled to understand is called "The Right of God." The idea is that whatever income or assets we have, since they come from God, by right belong to God. So there is a tax, a small percentage of whatever assets we have over and above what we need in order to live, payable to the Universal House of Justice.
Well, what do we need in order to live? That is the big question. There is no Baha'i I.R.S. There is no governing body telling us, dictating to us, what we truly need, nor standing by to wrest it from us. This Right of God is not acceptable unless given freely, with joy. We pick and choose, according to our conscience, what is necessary to support us.
My theory is that the more attached we are to the material world, and the more money we have, the harder this discernment can become.
The Root, Part 1
During my last two jobs I earned almost more money than I could spend, at least at first. I became blind. If I wanted a book or CD or a doodad, I bought it. By the end I was eating meals out daily, sometimes more. And I was completely attached to a house that I did not own and may never own.
When I started my last job I felt I was making an agreement to work there by choice. I wasn't forced to do anything. This was necessary, due to a habitual emotional stance as a victim of life.
By the end I was so stressed out I had forgotten about choice, the economy had changed, and I felt trapped.
Earning so much, I did not focus enough on using it wisely. I was totally engrossed in making it through each day, due to the demands of the career. I lost sight of one important spiritual fact: although on this plane we are producing income by our own efforts, on the spiritual plane our income comes from God and belongs to God, that Unknowable Essence.
Think about this: although many people believe we got here by emerging spontaneously from nonbeing into being, like a mushroom, Baha'u'llah teaches that we were created. Spiritual beings housed for now in physical bodies on a material plane. Our purpose in being here is not merely to survive--we fail in that, ultimately. Nor is it to entertain ourselves.
Our purpose has something to do with growing and unfolding and opening up our true nature and developing the capacities latent within us, according to our capacity.
When I started my last job I felt I was making an agreement to work there by choice. I wasn't forced to do anything. This was necessary, due to a habitual emotional stance as a victim of life.
By the end I was so stressed out I had forgotten about choice, the economy had changed, and I felt trapped.
Earning so much, I did not focus enough on using it wisely. I was totally engrossed in making it through each day, due to the demands of the career. I lost sight of one important spiritual fact: although on this plane we are producing income by our own efforts, on the spiritual plane our income comes from God and belongs to God, that Unknowable Essence.
Think about this: although many people believe we got here by emerging spontaneously from nonbeing into being, like a mushroom, Baha'u'llah teaches that we were created. Spiritual beings housed for now in physical bodies on a material plane. Our purpose in being here is not merely to survive--we fail in that, ultimately. Nor is it to entertain ourselves.
Our purpose has something to do with growing and unfolding and opening up our true nature and developing the capacities latent within us, according to our capacity.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
"Disappointed!"--Kevin Klein in a Fish Called Wanda
R.e. the phone call Thursday: I spent all day Friday trying to connect with this employer but she apparently was in meetings all day. I was disappointed.
Back to the coal mines Sunday [for internet-based job searches] and Monday.
Reading a very good book on emotions in all aspects: biology, energy, spirituality, etc. I think I'll become a Fear Warrior.
Back to the coal mines Sunday [for internet-based job searches] and Monday.
Reading a very good book on emotions in all aspects: biology, energy, spirituality, etc. I think I'll become a Fear Warrior.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Gratitude
Update: [I hate to keep using "update" as a blog title, so I thought I'd put in something more uplifting.]
The top thing I've been learning since losing my job is how caring and supportive everyone in my family and circle of acquaintances is. I really should join the Human Race one of these days. ; >
Today I had to think about what you put for "Accomplishments" on a resume if you're a nurse. I clock in, get to work, work really hard, hurry to do my charting, and clock out. Resume: "Accomplishments: Most of my patients were still alive by the end of the day." Well, it made me laugh.
I've been spending a lot of time at WorkSource, which used to be named the Employment Security Office and nicknamed by some the "Unemployment Office." I've learned that there are a number of agencies all associated with the name "WorkSource"; that so far every staff member there has been friendly, caring, knowledgeable and just stellar. I've learned some rudiments of Word and PC's, and today learned more about cover letters and resumes and spent time beginning a revamped resume using a program on their PC's.
I realized it's a good idea to use a professional email for this type of thing such as a job search. Especially because much of my job search has been online and posting my resume has resulted in a virtual spam of things such as cosmetics at Macy's [I don't even use make up], mystery shopper, nursing jobs in Tennessee [no offense, but I don't live there.]
I made a friend named Timothy at WorkSource, just by being compassionate and friendly. Not that we exchanged info or anything, but it felt nice to be helpful.
I came home already in a good mood from learning and useful activity, turned on my cell phone to find a message from actually the first job I applied to, which was listed in the newspaper. So I'm elated just to hear from someone and will phone them in the morning. We'll see what happens.
The top thing I've been learning since losing my job is how caring and supportive everyone in my family and circle of acquaintances is. I really should join the Human Race one of these days. ; >
Today I had to think about what you put for "Accomplishments" on a resume if you're a nurse. I clock in, get to work, work really hard, hurry to do my charting, and clock out. Resume: "Accomplishments: Most of my patients were still alive by the end of the day." Well, it made me laugh.
I've been spending a lot of time at WorkSource, which used to be named the Employment Security Office and nicknamed by some the "Unemployment Office." I've learned that there are a number of agencies all associated with the name "WorkSource"; that so far every staff member there has been friendly, caring, knowledgeable and just stellar. I've learned some rudiments of Word and PC's, and today learned more about cover letters and resumes and spent time beginning a revamped resume using a program on their PC's.
I realized it's a good idea to use a professional email for this type of thing such as a job search. Especially because much of my job search has been online and posting my resume has resulted in a virtual spam of things such as cosmetics at Macy's [I don't even use make up], mystery shopper, nursing jobs in Tennessee [no offense, but I don't live there.]
I made a friend named Timothy at WorkSource, just by being compassionate and friendly. Not that we exchanged info or anything, but it felt nice to be helpful.
I came home already in a good mood from learning and useful activity, turned on my cell phone to find a message from actually the first job I applied to, which was listed in the newspaper. So I'm elated just to hear from someone and will phone them in the morning. We'll see what happens.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Pilgrimage to the Mountain
Yesterday the National Parks entrance fees were waived for the Veterans Day holiday, so I decided it would be a great time to drive up to Mount Rainier. For years I used to have mountain dreams: each one was different, but the theme was climbing or ascending a mountain. Usually in the "graphics" part of the dream, there wasn't much to the mountain; I wasn't ascending the peak. More recently the dreams were more specifically of Mount Rainier, although still not realistic. I was never quite sure what the symbolism was--achievement or accomplishment, or some more mystical goal.
I decided to make a "pilgrimage" to Paradise, the highest spot on the Western aspect of the mountain that can be reached by driving. I wanted to say prayers, maybe take a hike or walk. I had a time deadline to be home so I could attend the Holy Day observance of the Birth of Baha'u'llah held on campus at the University of Puget Sound. From the south end of Tacoma it took from 1145 to 1400 or so to drive up there. The distance is not so far, but with the winding roads it takes longer. The weather was dry and mostly sunny, which made a terrific drive.
I took some photos after I passed the park entrance, of the mountain with the top shrouded in fog, and of some nice little waterfalls in the sunshine. The road became covered in spots with frozen slush and I dithered about continuing, but I had come so far, so I continued. Just short of Paradise I encountered a Cascade Fox in the road, looking at me with a "where's my treat?" expression. I discovered later it is a member of a family which hangs out and begs for handouts. It's unfortunate that this behavior is reinforced, but otherwise I probably wouldn't have seen it.
Paradise was spectacular in the snow. I stood and turned 360 degrees taking photos. Every needle on every branch on every conifer was coated in snow. Fog lent a mystical atmosphere to the area. Families and children were sledding, building snowmen and trading snowballs. Indoors I watched the educational movie, then in my car I read the Tablet of Ahmad before heading back as it started to snow, small round rapid flakes. I emerged refreshed. I think I drove about 154 miles round trip.
I still don't know the "meaning" of my mountain dreams, but I have a feeling they relate to the unfoldment of whatever I was meant to become. And it's nice to look at the Mountain, when it's visible, and remember when I had a clearer, closer view.
I decided to make a "pilgrimage" to Paradise, the highest spot on the Western aspect of the mountain that can be reached by driving. I wanted to say prayers, maybe take a hike or walk. I had a time deadline to be home so I could attend the Holy Day observance of the Birth of Baha'u'llah held on campus at the University of Puget Sound. From the south end of Tacoma it took from 1145 to 1400 or so to drive up there. The distance is not so far, but with the winding roads it takes longer. The weather was dry and mostly sunny, which made a terrific drive.
I took some photos after I passed the park entrance, of the mountain with the top shrouded in fog, and of some nice little waterfalls in the sunshine. The road became covered in spots with frozen slush and I dithered about continuing, but I had come so far, so I continued. Just short of Paradise I encountered a Cascade Fox in the road, looking at me with a "where's my treat?" expression. I discovered later it is a member of a family which hangs out and begs for handouts. It's unfortunate that this behavior is reinforced, but otherwise I probably wouldn't have seen it.
Paradise was spectacular in the snow. I stood and turned 360 degrees taking photos. Every needle on every branch on every conifer was coated in snow. Fog lent a mystical atmosphere to the area. Families and children were sledding, building snowmen and trading snowballs. Indoors I watched the educational movie, then in my car I read the Tablet of Ahmad before heading back as it started to snow, small round rapid flakes. I emerged refreshed. I think I drove about 154 miles round trip.
I still don't know the "meaning" of my mountain dreams, but I have a feeling they relate to the unfoldment of whatever I was meant to become. And it's nice to look at the Mountain, when it's visible, and remember when I had a clearer, closer view.
Monday, November 8, 2010
No Camel
I was just on Baha'i Views, which had a link to the promotion of a book called The People With No Camel, by Roya Movafegh. It is the true story of a young girl escaping from Iran with her family after the Revolution.
The title comes from the Muslim law of shariah that if a Muslim man is murdered, the family is to be compensated with the price of a hundred camels. If a Muslim woman is murdered, the price is fifty camels. If a Baha'i is murdered, "no camels apply."
When I have an income again, I am buying this book. http://thepeoplewithnocamel.wordpress.com.
The title comes from the Muslim law of shariah that if a Muslim man is murdered, the family is to be compensated with the price of a hundred camels. If a Muslim woman is murdered, the price is fifty camels. If a Baha'i is murdered, "no camels apply."
When I have an income again, I am buying this book. http://thepeoplewithnocamel.wordpress.com.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Karmic Relief
Every day I'm feeling better, probably from the release of stress from my previous job. Today, among other things I accomplished, I prayed fervently and put my issues in the hands of God [about which I always have to laugh at myself, because my life is in God's hands anyway] and I bought a Sunday paper. This is the third week I have bought a Sunday paper, and nursing jobs in the last two editions have been minimal to nonexistent, but I enjoy the comics, so what the heck. I had the idea this morning of putting a sign in the back of my car, "RN For Hire", but I'm not sure about the unintended consequences.
I think the lack of newspaper listings is partially due to a lack of jobs and partly due to a change in technology. Everything is done online that used to be done in the newspaper. Maybe that explains why the Sunday edition is now up to $2.00. Well, I did find a possibly appropriate job, which I hope would not be a frying-pan-into-the-fire situation. The main thing is that it helped me become motivated to update my resume, which I am mailing tomorrow to this outfit. So that feels productive.
Suddenly I'm reading all these articles in the papers about my "social networking" presence online, and its relevance to a job search. The writers encourage people to have a positive "presence" online, and not look too bad. They mean Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, etc etc etc. Last time I tried to get onto Facebook it had me create a password, and then rejected it--over and over again. Just my karmic way of feeling rejected one more time, I guess. I keep meaning to try again. Anyway, for better or worse, potential employers will just have to get to know me without Chatter or Spacebook. Karmic relief.
I went to Farsi class this morning, which is really a children's class for Farsi-speaking children who are learning to read and write in Farsi script. I've been going since last spring. The class is held in Farsi, so following instructions is a challenge. I'm actually learning to read in Farsi. Whoa. Today I learned to spell the words "Allah" and "Hovallah", which are actually Arabic but used in Baha'i Writings and shared by Farsi, as well as being spelled in the Farsi alphabet.
Although I have been studying the alphabet for some time, I think what helped me start making the connections [pun intended: Farsi script is connected as in cursive writing] was the assignment of looking into a dictionary to find words beginning with each letter. At first I was rather resistive and sullen about it, but with practice it got easier. The last homework I did was to list numerals from one to one hundred, which have different symbols than Arabic numerals, together with the Englishified transliteration and the Farsi word for each number. I didn't actually learn each number, but I did write them. Twice. It just got to be so much fun after I got the hang of it.
It's because I don't watch TV. You have to get your fun where you can.
I think the lack of newspaper listings is partially due to a lack of jobs and partly due to a change in technology. Everything is done online that used to be done in the newspaper. Maybe that explains why the Sunday edition is now up to $2.00. Well, I did find a possibly appropriate job, which I hope would not be a frying-pan-into-the-fire situation. The main thing is that it helped me become motivated to update my resume, which I am mailing tomorrow to this outfit. So that feels productive.
Suddenly I'm reading all these articles in the papers about my "social networking" presence online, and its relevance to a job search. The writers encourage people to have a positive "presence" online, and not look too bad. They mean Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, etc etc etc. Last time I tried to get onto Facebook it had me create a password, and then rejected it--over and over again. Just my karmic way of feeling rejected one more time, I guess. I keep meaning to try again. Anyway, for better or worse, potential employers will just have to get to know me without Chatter or Spacebook. Karmic relief.
I went to Farsi class this morning, which is really a children's class for Farsi-speaking children who are learning to read and write in Farsi script. I've been going since last spring. The class is held in Farsi, so following instructions is a challenge. I'm actually learning to read in Farsi. Whoa. Today I learned to spell the words "Allah" and "Hovallah", which are actually Arabic but used in Baha'i Writings and shared by Farsi, as well as being spelled in the Farsi alphabet.
Although I have been studying the alphabet for some time, I think what helped me start making the connections [pun intended: Farsi script is connected as in cursive writing] was the assignment of looking into a dictionary to find words beginning with each letter. At first I was rather resistive and sullen about it, but with practice it got easier. The last homework I did was to list numerals from one to one hundred, which have different symbols than Arabic numerals, together with the Englishified transliteration and the Farsi word for each number. I didn't actually learn each number, but I did write them. Twice. It just got to be so much fun after I got the hang of it.
It's because I don't watch TV. You have to get your fun where you can.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
R.e. Wimmin Presidents
I hasten to clarify that the foregoing was merely satire. I have no opinion on female presidents as long as they know their place . . . doggone it! I just can't help it.
Reset:
Okay: men = women. Okay?
Reset:
Okay: men = women. Okay?
Friday, November 5, 2010
"Woman" Is Not An Adjective
The other day I got off work where I was working with a man nurse. He used to be a man sergeant in the Army. Then I went to see my man dentist, but driving home I got a ticket from a man police officer, and when I got home it turned out my house was on fire, but it was saved due to the courage and persistence of the man firefighters. I was upset due to the fire, so I had chest pains, and I went to see my man doctor. He made a mistake and I had to sue him with the help of my man lawyer. I took a trip recently and arrived safely due to the skills of the man pilot. Tomorrow I'm taking my cat to a man veterinarian. We just had an election and across the country many people voted for man senators; every day I thank God we have a man president.
I sure would worry if we had a female president.
I sure would worry if we had a female president.
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