Responding to a world of chaos

Posted by Amy Baranski

You may have heard the news by now that a murderer ran loose around the city shooting people and then himself (coward). Six are dead including the suspected shooter.

For those who have died.

Just last week there was the father, a victim of a senseless stray bullet who died near my neighborhood. I was at my friend's son's baseball game when it happened. Another mother who had come from the area and saw the commotion of the first response teams spread the news while we were cheering on the kids in the bleachers. Then there was the gang-related incident at the Space Needle during Folklife--the annual Memorial Day weekend celebration of folk music at the Seattle Center. A bystander was shot, non-lethally. The shooter is 'sorry' he hit the wrong guy. Three days ago a house got shot-up with 60 bullets in the south-end.

The shooting yesterday, of course, reminds me of the Capitol Hill Massacre that happened six years ago. I'll never forget that day because it started with my reporter friend Josh who called me at a very early hour asking if I was OK. I was half-amused by the concern in his voice; it seemed so random that he would be calling me to see if I was OK. It took me a moment to realize his seriousness and that something terrible had happened and I could have been there. I jumped off the phone and threw on some clothes and darted out the door to meet my friend, and boss, Matthew.That began one of our longest working days of the year. We worked at the, now closed, Capitol Hill Arts Center--the venue for the rave that murderer Kyle Huff attended. That was a day of phone calls--one after the other with lawyers, community organizers, politicians, and even Larry King's people.

Today, my husband spent a lot of time on the phone, because the murderer shot a woman in an apparent car-jacking in the parking lot adjacent to this office. My husband bicycles to work (which I love) but I have to not sweat times when he's late or hasn't called because he's in wall-to-wall meetings on any given day. Because if I do sweat it I'll go down this chain of anxieties that always lead to an imaginary scene with a shattered bicycle helmet and a dramatic scene in the Harborview emergency room. Not only am I selfishly happy that he wasn't at the office at the time of the shooting--because if he had driven it could have been his truck that was car-jacked, but I'm even happy he wasn't there so that that he didn't have to witness this senseless violence.

Seattle isn't the only place where a rash of gun violence has swept the area. There were the 40 shootings in Chicago over Memorial Day weekend. We're we supposed to be remembering the dead not creating more of them? Everything seems so upside down these days. Then I read these articles:

• What college tuition will look like in 18 years
• Supreme court won't review SPD use of taser on pregnant woman
• Coal trains through Washington few benefits much to fear
• Spokane diocese seeks $1.5M to settle claims of clergy sex abuse

After taking in the uplifting headlines so many cliches filled my mind that it took some effort to think beyond them, to think about what is going on in our world. I really wanted to think about what we are all doing together in this world, and what we are all doing on earth as individuals. What guides us? How does our Id, Ego, and altruism commingle? What do they become together? Is it good?

Last night my husband and I stayed awake until 1:00 a.m. (a feat for us on a school night) talking about the meaning of our lives--the value of the work that we do and our aspirations. We talked big picture and strategically to try to make sense of the world around us and how we fit into it and how to live a "good" life and what a "good" life means to us. 

And that's sort of the point isn't it? To think. To talk. To share. And to do these things in a loving and intentional space. We can't just let a stream of cliches fill our minds and our hearts. We have to sort it out. We have to partner in someway with someone(s) to share our frustrations and to have our perspectives challenged. We have to use our anger and frustration, or our confusion and loss, to transform ourselves, our minds. Sometimes we just have to be together. Other times, we have to let go. We have to let go of what's expected of us and take a leap of faith because who should reign a court of expectations of our lives? Who has that power and why do we so often give it away?

Last week, up in Snohomish at a lovely mom-'n-pop bee-keeping supply store I chatted with the shop owner. He asked when we were expecting (because I'm really showing now). And he said this: 

"There's not many things you'll do in life, if any, that will have an impact 100 years from now. But raising a child will."

This filled me with a sense of hope, responsibility and pride. And I love the idea behind it--that raising up people (loving people) is so important to contribute to the good. But I also thought, what if I weren't having a child? What kind of impact would my life have 100 years from now? And I think this too is important to consider, because I may very well not have ever had a new person to raise. And I know many people who have chosen not to procreate or have not had children not out of any choice or reason. And those lives matter deeply--at least they do to me. But how do we frame the conversation so that we're asking how an individual can contribute to the good, and to the 100 year good? One thought that immediately came to mind (because I'm very committed to environmental sustainability) was if we all thought of the earth as our child--a living being as complex as one could imagine with interconnected systems of feeling, and life, and seemingly endless opportunity to cultivate, blossom, mature, and ultimately transform into a new cycle of life. If we held the same esteem for the earth as we did our own children can you imagine the kind of world we might live in? In my mind it's a paradise that makes me smile. The other idea that occurred to me was the importance of our thoughts and not only their content but their mode. We each have an amazing capacity for imagination, bliss, attachment, and detachment. And how we allow our thoughts to rule our life decisions has, in my opinion, a 100 year effect. Thoughts--both their scope and operation--are handed down to generations whether we intend for that or not.

And yet there are so many other ways to think about the world and our impact. I invite all of you to make some space for yourself or with a friend or a lover and have a conversation on what it all means. Don't just let the day roll on by like some banal Hallmark Cliche. If you don't have time to do then think or talk.

Namaste

I Went Fishing! (Sorta)

The hopeful fisherwoman.

Posted by Melissa Baumgart
This evening I really wanted to take our youngest to see the new movie, Chimpanzee.  The oldest was volunteering at her circus school for a fundraising performance, and the middle child went to see the opening game of the Seattle Storm.  (The Storm just happened to be the 2010 WMBA champion, yes, that's right...GO Seattle!)  So, there we were, with a choice.  Take the little one fishing, or to the movies?

With good intentions, and because I like to "do it for the blog!", we went fishing.  We first stopped off at the Outdoor Emporium, the place where I previously had obtained my fishing license.  I had a fishing pole so I just needed all the fishing accoutrement.  I walked into aisles of hooks, rows and rows of inly fishing hooks! Seriously, I just needed a hook, and a worm, as far as I was concerned. But no, I had to get help, and hope that the guy wasn't up-selling me on anise flavored marshmallows to add to my leader line.  For real, I bought "marshmallows" and other bubblegum and sour apple bait as well.  Bizarre.  But even if it was an up-sell, it was only $19.00 total, so not too bad on my part.

The directions. 

Next, the three of us headed to the WAC, the UW Waterfront Activities Center, where you can rent a canoe for just $10.00/hour.  Me, Jamie, and Tallulah awkwardly entered our canoe and set out for Lake Washington's fishing delights.  We paddled ourselves under footbridges and near reeds and lily pads.  We even saw a heron fly right in front of us.  All in all, it was a pretty amazing time out on the water.

What was't amazing?  Well, as I was sitting in the front of the canoe, seriously afraid that we were ready to tip at any moment, Jamie was busily following the written drawing instructions from the man at the Outdoor Emporium.  Jamie got the fishing pole all set up with a sinker, and a swivel, marshmallows and a worm to boot.  As he was about to cast, guess what he realized?  The reel had no handle!  We had no way to reel anything in.

"True Baumgart Fashion!", is what I heard from behind me.  Followed by much laugher.  And then we were all laughing, for a long, long time.

See our catch? The lily pad!

We went fishing, and literally, could not fish.  Believe me, I tried.  And when we finally pulled in the line totally by hand, I realized we had caught a lily pad.  Perhaps you can see it in the picture to the right.

Better luck next time?

Melissa

Learning how to Fly Fish

Posted by Melissa Baumgart
Very early Saturday morning, Green Lake was quietly abuzz with runners and swimmers.  Standing on the dock with a full jug of coffee (Thanks, Edie!) were Me, Amy, and four other women all ready for our fly casting lesson.  The original plan was to spend the whole day out near Fall City, on a river, in all of nature's glory.  When there was a miscommunication about which day it was scheduled for, we had to once again roll with the punches, as we often do.

So, we ended up at Green Lake, and like I said, very early.  A couple of us (yes, me included) admitted to waking up with a bit of the feeling like we really weren't going to be into this.  But since we had committed, and paid already, we'd go anyway.  For me personally, once I stepped out onto the dock and felt the sun start to warm my back, I was quickly won over.  And I hadn't even picked up a pole yet.

Our casting instructor, Loren, walked us through putting together a fly fishing pole.  The whole reel situation seemed a lot easier than I recall conventional fishing poles to be.  Once we had the line set up, Loren told us the basics of casting.  We didn't use hooks, thankfully, because I know I whacked myself in the face with that line a number of times.  But if we had, maybe we could have caught the huge fish I saw jump up out of the water!

Here's are the top three things I took home about fly casting:

• Do not flick your wrist.  Keep your wrist straight the entire time.  
• "Picking it up, and putting it down."  Loren told us to think of it like you're picking up a phone, bringing it right up to your ear, using your shoulder in the lift instead of tilting your wrist back to reach your ear.  And then hang up, put the phone down.  We all had fun with this one.  Thinking how soon a new generation isn't really going to get the picking up the phone, since it is always in hand already.  At some points all you could hear were the mutterings of six women reminding ourselves to pick it up and put it down.
• The Pause.  At each stop with the pole, moving back and forth, from front to back, (think 10 and 2 like on a clock), you have a pause.  It's not even a second long, but it's there.  Without it, there is no release of the line, and it just whacks around in the air without grace and flow.  When you get the pause right, it really is a beautiful thing.  

Like many things, it takes a good degree of relaxation in your muscle tone to really "get" it.  But, as a beginner, I found my mind was racing with trying to remember all the how-to minutia, and my body instinctually shifted into a rigid stiffness.  Then, at some point, when my mind drifted off, there would be a moment, where I really felt like I was in the rhythm of it.  The line was looping just the way he taught us, my hand/shoulder motion was "picking it up and putting it down" in just the right way...and inevitably I would start thinking again, and it was gone.

What a life lesson.  Stay present, relax and don't over think it.  

This has come up numerous times during the adventures of this blog.  Definitely during drumming, and then yoga for sure, and learning the Single Ladies dance.  I imagine it is what accomplished musicians experience, or athletes at the top of their game.  Those moments where you transcend the everyday and leave the constant mind chatter behind, and you just are. 

I don't know if I will ever get there with fly fishing, I mean, I can't imagine the perils of just putting a hook on the end of that line.  Maybe I'll just spend my time casting.  Finding my meditative self through fly casting, never catching anything but myself.  Wow, I sound like some crazy lady now.  "Have you heard about the lady at Green lake, she just stands there, casting a fly fishing pole, but doesn't even have a hook."  Yep, that's me, I might just be crazy enough to do it.