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A Cookie and a Note

Last week, a co-worker stopped by my office to chat. Not surprisingly, the conversation turned to current affairs, and I voiced my every day growing anger and grief and disgust and commitment to seek more ways to have positive impact. My co-worker essentially responded that as a yoga teacher, she thought I ought to know that I shouldn’t get so upset, things weren’t so bad. 

As should not be surprising to those who know me or practice yoga with me or read what I post on social media that I explained that my yoga calls for lucid and engaged citizenship and not escape from challenges and difficult emotions. My co-worker demurred, still wanting her own comfortable silence.

The fateful weekend passed. When I returned to the office this week, I found a note and a cookie on my desk. The note basically said, wow, Charlottesville, I hope you’re feeling ok, I thought you might like a cookie. Without addressing the substance of the note, (my own conflict aversion coming to the fore or perhaps my sense that in this case there was little point in pursuing the conversation further and my co-worker has been a pleasant colleague ),  when emailing about another matter, I said merely thank you for the cookie.

I’d thought that would be the end of it, but my co-worker then stopped by to thank me for saying thanks for the cookie, I no longer restrained myself from passionately though tolerably politely articulating what I really thought, including what a privilege it is to be able to have a bakery cookie  whether for hunger or comfort. 

I can relate to wanting everything to be ok, and I’m really glad I have plenty of food and a comfortable home, but I also believe that with my privilege comes great responsibility, now even more than ever. I seek to be more aware not less. What about you?

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    A Memory Triggered (and a Reminder to Live Each Day to Its Fullest)

    The home page of The New York Times on-line today had photographs and an article about a deadly tornado in Joplin, Missouri.  Reading about the devastation brought the spontaneous emotions of compassion and concern, as we have with all such news.  I was moved to read the article more thoroughly than I might otherwise have done because for a couple of years of my life, I was deeply engaged in a matter that concerned Joplin and traveled there a number of times.

    The original intent of the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974 (known by its acronym ERISA)–my legal specialty– was to make sure that if workers were promised a retirement benefit, they would actually get it.  What has happened with the expansion and revisions of the law since is like any complicated matter in a society that is subject to the entanglements of the economics of business and human nature and far beyond the scope of this blog. 

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    At the end of the work day, we got into our rental car and drove from Tulsa to Joplin.  It is flat, open land–tornado country.  There had been afternoon thunderstorms with towering clouds and breaks of sun and blue.  Even though we were as tired as one might expect from this story, we managed to enjoy the roadtrip aspect, spinning the am radio dial at every song to find one we thought worth hearing.  As we neared the end of our trip (getting ready to check into the Ramada on the highway amidst the strip malls and fast food joints that had put out of business all the small family-owned shops with any charm in the downtown), we saw an enormous and full rainbow light up the sky.  One end was right in Joplin.

    When we checked in, we were handed the decision of the court, which a co-worker had faxed to us.  We had prevailed on all counts; the case on behalf of the retirees could continue (not long after, we settled for as much as could have been gotten at trial because of the ruling).  That was almost 20 years ago, but I still remember the feeling that at the end of the rainbow was the small pot of gold for those workers.  Many of them were already in their 70s and older in 1992, and those that are living are truly getting on in years.  I hope they are ok.

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    Signs Around Town

    A friend emailed me today that her children will be home for rest of the week because their schools lost power from Sandy, and that she is counting her blessings because she and her family came through fine. My parents, who lost trees, including one that went through the roof of their house, are counting themselves well off because they witnessed how bad it could have been. In contrast, some others I know who didn’t experience any real inconvenience to themselves personally though in danger range have said they thought the storm had been “over-hyped.” (I know, being exposed to silly statements such as the latter is a peril of social media).

    Do we need to know hardship ourselves, at least a little, in order to have true sensitivity and compassion? Possibly.

    To all my friends and family challenged in the wake of Sandy or going through another challenge or hardship, please know that you are in my thoughts.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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