POMEGRANATES AND SPECIAL CHEESES   13 comments

Hi all!

I don’t have any great wisdom to impart, or challenges to offer, or prizes to give. I just want to check in so you won’t forget me out there in the blogosphere. 

The heading? Well, as I said recently, I’m focusing this month on finding ways to get Mrs. Job published and marketed. I’m checking out self-publishing — again (now that my contract with iUniverse is broken) — and the possibilities of aid with marketing if I choose that route. Obviously I haven’t been very successful on my own.

I’ve also submitted a query letter to an agent who looks right for the book and I’ve paid money toWriter’s Digest for an evaluation of that letter. It will be weeks before I hear their opinion. I’ve sent the manuscript to Beaver’s Pond Press for an estimate of cost for publishing with them. I’ve consulted a marketer who is looking into her contacts to see if there might be someone who specializes in working with authors. And I’m considering “Create Space.”

In consultation with my MFA sister, I’ve decided on the new working title: Pomegranates and Special Cheeses.  Perhaps with a colon addition: A Biblical Love Story. If you’ve read Mrs. Job you may recognize this as a description of their young love, mentioned a few times in the text.

It goes without saying that the book needs a different cover — more appealing if one should see it sitting on a bookstore shelf.

In the meantime, it’s taking a lot of time to learn the music (to be done a cappella) for the nun’s chorus in “The Sound of Music.” Mark Abelsen, the director, is, I’m happy to say, a stickler for perfection. Scary, but should produce a really great result. As for Sister Margaretta, I think I’ve got her part down, except when I panic on stage.

And then there’s winter in Minnesota, though I’m happy to say we seem to be past the extreme deep freeze that had my fingers numb in no time when I went outside. 

The part that bugs me most, perhaps, is that I can’t get to “My Father’s House.” I’ve thought about it, and I think the word really is “can’t.” I just can’t postpone the work on “The Sound of Music,” and I’ve committed myself to working this month on Mrs. Job — oops! Pomegranates and Special Cheeses.

I would be very happy to receive comments — on the potential title, or possible marketers, or to share cold weather stories, or anything else I’ve said here — or just to let me know you’re still willing to bother with me in spite of my frequent absences.

I have received e-mail responses to my latest blog, encouraging me to keep pushing for Mrs. Job’s publication, making really nice comments about the book. Such things are good to hear.

JOB’S WIFE: THE BACK STORY   2 comments

I’m spending this month focusing on getting “Mrs. Job” republished after she was set free by TM Publishing when they ran out of funding. But this time around, the working title will be “Job’s Wife: A Biblical Love Story.” Maybe people won’t be so tempted to pronounce “Job” as if it referred to paid employment rather than one of the “wisdom” books in the bible.

It’s sad, I think, that she is without a home because a publisher liked her well enough to offer her a new home and had me cancel her contract with iUniverse a year ago, but then couldn’t afford to move her in. But it does no good to wallow in regrets, so I’m actively seeking a new placement for her.

As starters, I’m looking for agents and examining the offerings of self-publishing sources. Besides, right now I’m sharing a part with you. .. the section at the end where I describe what lay behind my writing the book in the first place and making the decisions I did.

I do have some copies of “Mrs. Job” left on my shelf as she was with iUniverse before the improvements edited in while working with TM publishing.

Any agents out there? Any smart folks with good suggestions? Any comments .. suggestions for a new title .. new cover?

You can see the old cover and some comments if you go to Mrs. Job at amazon.com.

ADDENDUM: THE STORY OF THE STORY

The issue of forgiveness seized my attention in the mid 1980s, at a time when I was still engaged in the psychology of women, my special area of instruction during the last fifteen years of my academic career. An essential aspect of forgiveness is concern for justice. Given that I also have a lay student’s interest in the Bible, it probably isn’t surprising that I chose to study Biblical justice as reflected in the Book of Job. And it seemed especially appropriate to view the story from the point of view of his wife who suffered the severe losses of the trials along with him. So my interests coalesced in what seemed to me to be a very comfortable and meaningful way.

Applying my psychologist’s focus to the study, I found myself annoyed with the somewhat pervasive portrayal of “the patience of Job” as a kind of wimpy, uncomplaining  acceptance of any punishment, no matter how unjust. I saw him instead as a pretty strong character, one of the first self-actualizers who knew his own strengths and weaknesses and would not yield to anyone’s pressure to lie about himself in order to gain favor. I liked that Job.

My career as an academic had schooled me to examine everything I could about a topic of interest. That isn’t bad training if one is working on topics that are already familiar, and if the amount of relevant material is reasonably limited. So I began reading about the Book of Job, and discovering interesting interpretations and speculations. But when I visited the Yale Divinity School Library and saw the huge wall of writings about Job, I realized I’d either have to give up the project or curb my perfectionism. I wasn’t a theologian, and previous researchers had been more abundant than I could handle and still maintain my own life and professional activities.

I confess that the dilemma froze my Joban activities, but he was never far out of my thoughts. Then, in 1992, Safire identified Job as “the first dissident,“[i] not that different from my Self-actualizing Job, I thought, and I was fired up again. The perfectionism yielded a little, and I thought maybe I could continue to explore Job for pleasure, not as if I were writing a dissertation.

The Job I liked had a firm commitment to justice rather than self-righteous justification. In 2000, my sister provided me with a book by Alan Dershowitz[ii] which helped me understand more clearly the covenant relationship which Job invoked in his demand that God declare the charges he had against him. Like a good lawyer, Job called on his right to know, and the demand was justified with God’s appearance to him and the ultimate restoration of his family and wealth. And I felt a little freer to enjoy Job.

Not only was Job a self-actualizing dissident with the courage unyieldingly to maintain his integrity, he was also an early feminist. Why else would such a point be made that he named the three daughters in his second family and saw to it that they got an equal share of the inheritance?  To name is to grant power, as is inclusion in one’s will, so to speak. Of course, the Biblical story doesn’t mention the daughters in his first family. He probably named them too, as he would have done all his children. But the writer of Job chose to make a point of his care for the three daughters in his second family. Something must have happened during the trials or as their consequence to inspire him to act in such a counter-cultural manner. So Job himself opened up the issue of the women in Job’s life.

Job’s wife is mentioned three times in the Book of Job (NRSV). First, in 2:9-10,

“Then his wife said to him, ‘Do you still persist in your integrity?  Curse God, and die.’ But he said to her, ‘You speak as any foolish woman would speak.  Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?’ In all this Job did not sin with his lips.”

The most common understanding of this encounter has been, over the centuries, to accuse Mrs. Job of being in league with the devil. That interpretation is a little unsatisfactory, since neither she nor Job knew the exchange that was taking place between God and The Satan, or the Accusing Angel,[iii] who, by the way, was then an agent of God and not the Devil we have come to know in later times.[iv]

Other explanations include the suggestions that the word for “curse” could also be translated “bless,” that Mrs. Job is invoking a customary Jewish usage of the opposite to express the real meaning of her intent, or, in a more humorous vein, cartoons and poems about the nuisance Job is, sitting around in the ashes, while she has to do all the work. (“Lift your legs,” she says to the seated Job in one cartoon, while she vacuums under his feet.)

Those of us who study the history and psychology of women are not surprised by the identification of Job’s wife with the devil. It has been tradition, until feminist reexamination changed our way of looking at things, to identify women with evil. But that’s another fascinating and ongoing study of women in the Bible which can wait for another time.

I have chosen to extract three major points from this encounter, the first of which requires knowing the situation from outside, when God tells The Satan to spare Job’s life. In my story, I have chosen to see that Mrs. Job’s life was therefore spared since, as Job’s wife, she was one with him, a part of him, and therefore covered by the injunction to spare his life.

If you see that as a stretch, I understand why, but two other points seem more obvious to me, and, I think, may be more acceptable to you. His reply to her, essentially saying, “Now you sound like any foolish woman” suggests to me that he holds her in high respect, surprised when she sounds foolish. Like the claim in the previous paragraph, I have chosen to make this respect an integral part of the story of Mrs. Job.

Finally this exchange has provided the opportunity for a clear statement from Job that God is in charge, and may mete out both good and bad. There is nothing in this response that would reflect the views we will hear from his so-called comforters who are so convinced that punishment is always justified, and must reflect sin on the part of the sufferer. Therefore, they “know” that Job can end his suffering if only he will tell God he’s sorry he’s been such a sinner. The position of the “comforters” is that people can control God by their own right behavior. Job’s position puts God in charge. Theirs puts humans in charge. By the end of the story, God confirms Job’s argument that humans do not have the power of self-justification and rebukes the other men for their self-aggrandizement.

And now for the second time Job’s wife is mentioned:, “My breath is repulsive to my wife.” (19:17 NRSV) That his breath is repulsive is no surprise. Ill and depressed, Job has not been eating, a natural consequence of which is halitosis. But I think there’s more to be gleaned from this about their relationship. Clearly she has been close enough to him to be offended by his breath, so we know he hasn’t driven her away, literally or figuratively. And I also read into this an intimacy strong enough that she can come right out and tell him his breath is bad. I choose to see that kind of intimacy as an integral part of their relationship.

Finally, “If my heart has been enticed by a woman, and I have lain in wait at my neighbor’s door, then let my wife grind for another, and let other men kneel over her. For that would be a heinous crime; that would be a criminal offense; for that would be a fire consuming down to Abaddon, and it would burn to the root all my harvest.” (31: 9-12 NRSV)

If one really wanted to, one could find explanations – probably legalistic – of other meaning behind these words. But for me, it seems most simple and direct to accept this at face value – that he has been faithful to his wife. True, in the society of Job’s time, he might have taken other wives or concubines, but it seems to me like a stretch to go beyond this simple statement of monogamy. I have chosen for my story to assume that Job and his wife respect and love each other.

Working since 1970 with secular textbooks and articles about women, I encountered an occasional reference to Proverbs 31:10-31, “Ode to a Capable Wife” (See Appendix). It has often been presented as a negative example of how hard a woman’s life is. Women sometimes recognized it when I incorporated it into my talks, but Jewish women’s groups always nodded in positive reaction to “the woman of valor.”

As I thought about the women in my own extended family, I realized how many of my aunts fit the picture of this woman who is basically in charge of everything involved in daily life: buying, selling, merchandizing, traveling, dispensing charity, sharing wisdom, providing the necessities of food and warmth. And, unless they are living in dire poverty, these are the women who feel good about themselves, productive, useful, and respected. Depression was more likely to develop for women who were assigned a more dependent role in our culture.

I came to understand that the ideal wife in Proverbs 31 had an important function, and freed her husband to perform his, which was, at that time, to study, worship, and sacrifice to God. While the culture of the 1970s valued buying, selling, merchandizing, traveling, dispensing charity, sharing wisdom, and providing the necessities of food and warmth as primarily an honorable masculine function, to really understand women of the time of Proverbs 31, we had to understand the different culture. If Job, in standing respectfully before God, was an honorable Self–actualizer, then so was his wife as she went about her busy, productive life of tending to daily needs.

Now I knew I wanted to write the story of Job’s wife, and I felt comfortable with the psychology of it.  But this is a Biblical story, so I needed some confirmation from an appropriate scholar. I called Brevard Childs, the noted Old Testament scholar at Yale,[v] and asked him if it would be appropriate to take the ideal wife of Proverbs 31 as a model for Mrs. Job. His answer was an unhesitating “yes.” The book of Job and the “ideal wife” are both part of wisdom literature, probably from the patriarchal period. And he encouraged me to write it. Little could either one of us know how long it would be before Mrs. Job finally got birthed.

Professor Childs is not responsible for any of the other assumptions I’ve made in writing this story. He is, however, responsible for my developing the courage to write it. As I understand it, wisdom literature is exactly that – attempts to define and teach wisdom. It was for that reason that I chose to name Job’s wife “Dara” (Wisdom). Equally in the running for a name was “Hope” which, I felt, reflected a particularly strong element of her personality, but perhaps hope is just one small part of wisdom, so Dara she is.

The book of Mrs. Job is fiction, but there are two areas where it has to be faithful to the source. First, while the interpretation of the particular events of the trials and their aftermath are mine, their depiction must be true to the Biblical story. Second, the details of their life must reflect the reality of the time in which they live.

My sister, the one in the family with the MFA in writing, has told me that one reads, takes notes on, and experiences a lot of material, but when it comes to writing fiction, all that serves as background against which the story is created. She finally helped free me of my academic perfectionist trap. Her final nudge was to give me a very attractive journal to be used only for writing about Job’s wife. What follows is some of the background that informed Mrs. Job’s story as I was freed to create it.

Essentially in my research I have found no scholar who claims that the book of Job is the description of a particular man, his friends and family, and the events of his life, though there may be those who believe in the literal inerrancy of the Bible who will disagree with me.  I hope they too can enjoy whatever wisdom there is in my story of Job’s wife. I have found scholars, however, who have made suggestions about Job’s location in time and place, and some have suggested men of history who may have been models for the character Job. Since no one is really sure about Job’s roots, what follows is a description of the choices I’ve made.

The Book of Job is part of wisdom literature, which includes Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes in the Hebrew Bible. There is no definitive agreement on who wrote the Book of Job, or even how many authors were involved, but a good guess is that the poet/author was writing somewhere between the 9th and 6th century BCE and may have placed the story as far back as 2200 BCE.  There is general agreement that the Job of the story was an Edomite, or alternatively from Uz which is in the region of Edom. I have chosen to identify the Job of my story as an Edomite, because it gives me context for many aspects of my story.

The Edomites were semi-nomads who followed their herds in spring, summer, and autumn, and lived within a walled city in the winter. A characteristic of Edom as revealed by a search of the internet is that at least some of their city homes were in caves. Edom was located on the eastern side of what we call the Dead Sea, largely in an area which is now part of Jordan.

Choosing to identify Job as an Edomite helped define many other parts of Mrs. Job’s story. Edom is another name for Esau, whose mother and younger twin brother, Jacob, basically cheated him of his father’s blessing and the heritage that should have been his. (Genesis 27:1-40.) When Jacob fled to his Uncle Laban to escape Esau’s wrath, Esau took as an additional wife the daughter of Ishmael, the son of Abraham by Hagar the Egyptian, Sarah’s slave girl. He did that knowing it would offend his mother.

Choosing to accept the Edomite background for Job, then, opened up the possibility of understanding Job’s piety as that of one converted to a lost faith – lost because of the heritage of anger and resentment. In the background of my thought, I see Eliphaz and the others, along with Job, recovering the God of Abraham and his sons Isaac, patriarch of the Jews, and Ishmael, patriarch of the Islamic faith.

Every bit as important in the story of Esau and Jacob as background for Job is the reconciliation that occurred, basically because of Esau’s forgiveness, when Jacob returned with his family and flocks to the land of his father. As he approached Edom, the land in which Esau had settled, Esau met him with an embrace. (Genesis 33: 1-17.) Without the fact of that forgiveness and reconciliation, it would have been harder to portray the generosity and ultimate piety of Job.

The background for my assumptions about Job’s heritage was aided even further by another exploration of the internet where I came upon NABATAEA.NET, “The Hyksos, Kings of Egypt and the land of Edom: Chapter IV: The Book of Job.”  (Most recently reviewed 8/17/07.) Here the author proposes that Job is modeled on King Jobab, who, if I understand the author correctly, can trace his lineage back to Esau. Please understand that I am in no position to claim or dispute the accuracy of these assumptions, but they do allow me to embed my story in a reasonable framework. Here is the lineage. Esau fathered Ruel and Eliphaz (and King Bela?). Ruel fathered Zerah who fathered Jobab. In adopting this base for my story, I am, therefore, making Job the great grandson of Esau and a relative to Eliphaz.

But here’s the wrinkle created by artistic preference, or something like that. I had almost finished the first draft when I realized that, to be true to this assumption, Job’s father should have been Zerah, not Ruel as I had been calling him. So, I set my computer to work changing all the “Ruels” to “Zerah.” Uncle Ruel was gone from my manuscript and instead there was this stranger, Uncle Zerah. Now I know what writers mean when they talk about identifying with their characters. Truly, I went into mourning over the loss of Uncle Ruel, whom I had come to love, and perceived Uncle Zerah as an undesirable intruder. After a conference with my writer sister, I concluded with her help that, since this is fiction, I could bring Uncle Ruel back – a great relief to me. Then Pastor Beth Warpmaeker, much to my delight, pointed out that Zerah would have been Ben Ruel (son of Ruel) so I can feel even more justified calling him Uncle Ruel for short.

Now you have a pretty detailed description of the choices I have made on the way to creating “The Book of Mrs. Job.” I love Job and Dara. I also enjoy the issues of justice, self-justification, grace, and the masculinity/femininity of the deity. I am a psychologist, and it’s mostly the psychological questions that drew me.

I have come to love the other characters in the book as well. Since they are largely my own creation, I guess that’s a way of loving myself.  So be it. They say that writers don’t really create anything new, that they write about what they have experienced.  Looking back at the story, I guess that says something either about my own positive experiences in life, my own optimism, or my own Pollyanna tendencies. Whatever the reason, I see that I haven’t created even one mean and nasty person, except perhaps for the nameless attackers who brought on the trials.

I have also been pleased by the comment of Pastor Dave Olson of Mount Calvary Lutheran Church. He pointed out what the Hebrew tradition sees as the purpose of Biblical stories. It is to promote discussion in depth of the issues raised. I guess that’s what Job was doing as he worshiped God, and I like to think that’s what I am doing in seeing the story of Job in this particular way.

Please remember, I’m a psychologist, a therapist, maybe a writer, but not a theologian or a historian. I’ve just tried to get Mrs. Job’s story right.


[i] William Safire (1992). The First Dissident: The Book of Job in Today’s Politics. New York: Random House..

[ii] Dershowitz, Alan M. (2000).  The Genesis of Justice:  Ten Stories of Biblical Injustice that Led to the Ten Commandments as Modern Law.  New York:  Warner Books.

[iii] “In many translations, the definite article precedes the word Satan in the Old Testament, suggesting a title like Special prosecutor, or Inspector General, rather than a person’s name.” Safire, Op.Cit., p. 3.

[iv] “In the Hebrew Bible, as in mainstream Judaism to this day, Satan never appears as Western Christendom has come to know him, as the leader of an ‘evil empire,’ an army of hostile spirits who make war on God and human kind alike.  As he first appears in the Hebrew Bible, Satan is not necessarily evil, much less opposed to God.  On the contrary, he appears in the book of Numbers and in Job as one of God’s obedient servants – a messenger, or angel. ..In biblical sources the Hebrew term the satan describes an adversarial role.  It is not the name of a particular character.” Elaine Pagels. (1995). The Origin of Satan,  New York:  Random House. P.39.

“Minus one cryptic reference in 1 Chronicles, Satan first appears in the Book of Job, where he works as God’s prosecuting attorney. Satan cannot do anything to Job that God will not let him do.  When Job’s children are killed, they are killed with God’s permission.  When sores erupt on Job’s body, they erupt with God’s permission.  As hard as this is for Job or his readers to swallow, it is one of the occupational hazards of monotheism. There is only one God in this story—the God who forms light and creates darkness, according to Isaiah 45—the God who makes weal and creates woe.”  Barbara Brown Taylor. (May 3, 2003) Christian Century, p. 43.

[v] I have been saddened to learn of Dr. Child’s death in summer, 2007.

Endnotes

1 Jemimah is the name given to Job’s oldest daughter in the biblical story.

2. Mitchell, Stephen. The Book of Job. San Francisco: North Point Press, 1987, p. 35.

3. Safire, William. The First Dissident: The Book of Job in Today’s Politics. New York: Random House, 1992.

4. Dershowitz, Alan M. The Genesis of Justice: Ten Stories of Biblical Injustice that Led to the Ten Commandments as Modern Law. New York: Warner Books, 2000.

5. Safire, Op. Cit., p. 3. “In many translations, the definite article precedes the word

Satan in the Old Testament, suggesting a title like Special Prosecutor, or Inspector General, rather than a person’s name.”

6. Pagels, Elaine. The Origin of Satan. New York: Random House, 1995, p. 39. “In the Hebrew Bible, as in mainstream Judaism to this day, Satan never appears as Western Christendom has come to know him, as the leader of an ‘evil empire,’ an army of hostile spirits who make war on God and human kind alike. As he first appears in the Hebrew Bible, Satan is not necessarily

evil, much less opposed to God. On the contrary, he appears in the book of Numbers and in Job as one of God’s obedient servants—a messenger, or angel …152 In biblical sources, the Hebrew term the satan describes an adversarial role. It is not the name of a particular character.”

7. Taylor, Barbara Brown. “Who are the Bad Guys?” Christian Century. May 3, 2003: 43.

“Minus one cryptic reference in 1 Chronicles, Satan first appears in the Book of Job, where he works as God’s prosecuting attorney. Satan cannot do anything to Job that God will not let him do. When Job’s children are killed, they are killed with God’s permission. When sores erupt

on Job’s body, they erupt with God’s permission. As hard as this is for Job or his readers to swallow, it is one of the occupational hazards of monotheism. There is ”only one God in this story—the God who forms light and creates darkness, according to Isaiah 45—the God who makes weal and creates woe.”

8. I have been saddened to learn of Dr. Child’s death in the summer of 2007.

9. http://www.nabataea.net/, Gibson, David J. “The Hyksos, Kings of Egypt and the land of Edom: Chapter IV: The Book of Job” (most recently reviewed 8/17/07).

FORGIVENESS; FOREGO-NESS; CONTROL   10 comments

I’m back! I tried to stay in touch with you all while I was on vacation from this post, often with just a “like” to let you know I’m paying attention.

And now I have probably more to say than either of us would prefer, but I hope you’ll stay with me. As usual, my thoughts have been grinding away.

I just finished reading “All But My Life” by Gerda Weissmann Klein, the memoir of a young woman born in Poland in 1924 who endured and survived the brutality and slavery of the Nazi holocaust. Because she is such an excellent writer, one feels the abject misery and humiliation without her ever telling us what we should be feeling. Just the direct reporting of events is all that’s needed for a powerful reminder of the abomination of which “ordinary” people are capable. And an indicator of the stealth with which the reality of developing sadism creeps up on victims who have faith in the goodness and decency of humanity.

I read it on the heels of “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak, a fictional portrayal of the gradual involvement of “innocent” people in supporting the Nazi terror. It would be difficult, I believe, for one to read this without heightening the awareness of the ever-present threat of horror built on indifference.

These observations lead me to the quote from Pastor Martin Niemöller, who, an outspoken critic of Adolf Hitler, spent the last seven years of Nazi rule in concentration camps:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out–Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out–Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me–and there was no one left to speak for me.

Both books I’ve mentioned remind me of the potential danger in avoiding awareness and confrontation. And both books offered much in the way of analysis of personal approaches to survival.

But my purpose here is more limited to the thoughts I’ve been having about forgiveness. The person who recommended Klein’s book to me suggested it was a story of forgiveness. But I realize something different – perhaps parallel to forgiveness –was going on. The author never focuses on her anger toward her tormentors, but rather on what she can do to survive. In other words, all her energy was directed toward staying alive.

I noticed that same phenomenon at the time of the Newtown, Connecticut, massacre. When the parents of a murdered child were asked by an interviewer whether they would be able to forgive the shooter, their response was, basically, “We can’t spend our time focused on him. We have a family to care for. We need to find a way to go on, and maybe even heal.”

I think we need a new word, something like “forego-ness.” While the point of forgiveness is that it starts with blaming the offender and experiencing our anger, the two examples above demonstrate foregoing any attention to the wrongdoer. Control rested in the hands of those parents, and in the charge of author Klein. They simply bypassed the anger, the first step in forgiveness, and went directly to focusing on taking care of themselves.

I have regularly defined “forgiveness” as the decision not to punish an offender and the relief that follows. I think I should describe that relief more specifically as removing power from the offender and taking back control over one’s own life. If refusing to forgive is like locking oneself in a cell and handing the keys to the offender. Then the result of deciding not to punish is equivalent to taking the keys back.

As always, I know I have to point out this doesn’t mean one decides the offender shouldn’t pay a price, but rather that the forgiver’s life can move on without being controlled by concern for the one who caused the pain.

The metaphor for “forego-ness” would have no image of keys or cells. One simply doesn’t lock oneself in the cell in the first place.

I do hope I’ll get some comments on these ideas. And I hope the commenter will be you.

And there’s still When to Forgive and Forgiving One Page at a Time for your perusal if you choose.

PLEASE BEAR WITH ME   10 comments

This is addressed especially to my fellow bloggers, but it’s intended for everybody. Basically, I have to curtail my activities somewhere, so I’ll be starting here.

Why curtail my activities? Well, here are a few reasons. Winter has hit — and hit hard. Which means it takes much longer to dress to go outdoors. Seriously, zippers, buttons, warm hat, mittens. Oh, alright. That’s not such a big deal.

But then there’s shoveling. Yes, the complex does get professionally plowed when there are two inches, but the added inch and a half just stays on the driveway and sidewalk unless I remove them. I’ve been pretty good about the sidewalk for folks who come for appointments. Not so great on the driveway – fingers and toes get too cold too fast.

Then there’s practicing to be Sister Margareta in “The Sound of Music.” Fun, but takes time, especially keeping me out later at night than I like in the cold dark winter. Speaking of which, I look forward to December 21 – the winter solstice — when light returns gradually to our days. Would that I were rich! I’d have a retreat in Virginia for the winter — still some seasons, but not so bad.

Then there’s the business of trying to get Mrs. Job republished with a new name and cover.

And preparing for Christmas. I’ll bet lot’s of us are in this together!

Mostly, perhaps, it’s realizing that I’ve taken on a long-term project in the plan to write “My Father’s House.” I expect to be around at least 20 more years, but that’s no excuse for putting off the research and writing needed to get it done. Somehow nothing happens if I just lie in bed thinking up good ideas.

And, of course, I do still see clients. What a pleasure! I don’t ever want to stop my practice.

So, please, bear with me if I slack off on the blogging. Or maybe just keep it quick and simple.

RELAXED THANKSGIVING AT COVE POINT   12 comments

Finally I’ve spent time on Minnesota’s north shore and it was beautiful to look at and relaxing to enjoy. Doug and I arrived at Cove Point on the day before Thanksgiving, staying in a Fjord Cottage a short walk from the main lodge. (I’m writing this a week later while snowed in in Chaska. Glad we went the week before.)

The drive there from Excelsior was clear and beautiful, but shortly after we arrived it began to snow, creating our first of the year winter wonderland. Inside the unit it was warm and cozy with the gas fireplace.

Fireplace

For dinner we took a short walk through the snow covered path to the dining room at the lodge where the menu gave great satisfaction to my Swedish heritage appetite. I ended up with a first course of herring salad and a stuffed portobello mushroom for the main meal. They very kindly substituted quinoa for the gluten free rotini. And for desert they gave me what I asked for — a scoop of vanilla with lingonberries. It was all good!

Doug enjoyed tomato basil soup and crumb crust walleye -crushed pretzels, mustard, wild rice pilaf and green beans. For desert he chose the root beer float they were offering free at the bar.

See what I mean? It was relaxing – no rushing off to “see the sights.” Later, back at the unit, Doug began the project of teaching me cribbage on a hand carved board in the shape of a fish. Just one of the toys provided.

Thanksgiving morning I awoke to the sight of a lovely sunrise over the lake.

Sunrise

and the lake waters greeting the snow covered rocks on shore.

Lake Superior

We made our own thanksgiving dinner in the kitchen beautifully supplied with everything necessary. I’m not including the photo of our cooked chicken, even though it was beautiful in “person,” because the photo had something equivalent to red eye, except it was red crust. Looked weird.

The rest of the day was a hanging-out day except for a brief walk to the lodge, a quick swim in the pool, and a soak in the whirlpool. Then more cribbage. Whew. And seconds on the pumpkin pie.

We did go see some sights the next day. First it was the Split Rock lighthouse – a beautiful structure, in use from 1909 t0 1964, or was it 1946? Oh well, Here it is.

Split Rock LIghthouse

We couldn’t see the inside because it’s only open in the summer months, but we did see a brief film of the crashes that brought about its being built in the first place. And we got a sense of what life was like for the keeper and his family.

Later, on our way to Gooseberry Park we got a glimpse of it again through the trees.

Lighthouse thru trees

Then it was on to Gooseberry Park where I did get a photo of the frozen falls. Actually there was some small amount of water still running, but not a lot.

Gooseberry Falls

I was particularly taken with what seemed like a tree that nature had decorated for Christmas.

Gooseberry Park Xmas tree

And then another relaxed evening at the unit.

On our way home from Cove Point we stopped in Duluth to visit the Glensheen mansion. Here are a few quick photos. First, the entry.

Glensheen entry

And the dining room.

Glensheen Dining Room

 

Plus a lovely tiled fireplace.

Glensheen fireplace

 

and one of the rooms.

Glensheen Mansion Duluth

 

As you can see,it was decorated for Christmas. Referring to a guest who had visited from Radcliffe, there were costumed guides at several points on the self-guided tour to elucidate what the guest would have seen, and what delight she took in being there.

I loved seeing it, but I wouldn’t want to live there. I guess because if I did, I imagined cleaning it all myself. But they had servants, and very pleasant servant’s quarters.

And so, I’m back to work today — more fun rehearsals for “The Sound of Music,” gift wrapping, trying to keep up with e-mail, friends, and clients, and telling myself each day that I’ll get back to work on selling “Mrs. Job” and writing “My Father’s House.” A snow day does help.

 

3:00 a.m.   14 comments

3:00 a.m. and I find myself suddenly wide awake.

I can’t believe my country is killing innocent people in drone strikes in countries with which we are not even at war.

13 years old and he was killed by a cop for playing with a realistic-looking toy gun.

Running toward the cops for help, the black athlete was shot dead. The crime? I guess RWB, i.e. running while black.

Asking for help at the front door after an accident with her car, she was shot dead by the homeowner. The crime? I guess it must have been AFHWNW. i.e., asking for help while not white.

This doesn’t feel like the land of the free I believed in as a child. And now folks would prefer to provoke war with Iran rather than press for diplomacy.

Nope: I’ve got to stop these thoughts. Get myself a cup of warm almond milk and a handful of raw cashews. Go back to bed. Read articles in Psychotherapy Today – ways to be helpful in healing myself and others.

Get sleepy. Go back to sleep.

FINALLY I RELIVE BULGARIA   5 comments

So much of what I loved in Bulgaria could not be photographed – the beautiful insides of cathedrals – but there is still much to share from a country that opened my eyes to a culture of which I had not been familiar.

First of all: where we lived for a week — a unit at Balkan Jewel Resort. Unlike the sites in Portugal, Austria, and France, there was an intimacy in its very design. Its U shape embraced not only the pool, playground, and restaurant, but also the people. The sense of community was powerful, perhaps a result of the country’s history.

Balkan Jewel

The following photo is a view from our balcony where the only table available encouraged us to be outside and in the company of others.

Balkan Jewel Resort

Near our resort was evidence of another, sadder, fact of the country’s current situation. Nearby there were so many buildings — intended resorts, I think — that were left unfinished, no doubt when funds ran out with the most recent recession.

UNFINISHED

There was optimism as well in the new construction we saw, especially at the Melnik winery.

Melnik Winery

We arrived at an unscheduled time, but were kindly given a tour by the owner and her son. Not a thing was missing, at least from our point of view, including elevators taking us to various levels of the building where we had excellent views of the workings. The winery is built on land that belonged to the family for years counted in the hundreds, removed at one point into the Ottoman empire and later into the communist state, but ultimately returned.

The best part of the tour was the graciousness of Luka and her son Alex. Luka understood English and, I suspect, could speak it better than her confidence allowed, but Alex served as a really competent interpreter. (I think the English he knew was British English.)

Luka & Alex

Especially delightful was the private wine tasting, with mother and son hosting mother and son. (I’m not in the following picture for the obvious reason that I’m taking the photo.)

ALEX, LUKA, DOUG

The wine was excellent and the price was right given the dollar/Lev exchange rate.

Wine

We were not allowed to leave without being gifted a fresh melon and bunches of grapes Doug got to pick when escorted by Alex on a visit to the vineyards.

Our next stop was the Rozhen monastery.

ROZHEN MONASTERY

Of course, we were not allowed to photograph the insides, but I did sneak a peek into the chapel. The murals were outstanding, and I did get to photograph some on the outside as well.

Chapel

Mural

The next day’s visit to the Rila Monastery was extremely moving for me. Still a bustlingly active monastery, it was here, as I understand it, that, under the protection of the Ottoman empire, Bulgarian art, history, religion, and culture were preserved for the 500 years of Turkish rule. The cathedral was beyond moving with its typically, but more-so, ornate physical interior and lovely chanting during what apparently were repeated sequential masses.

People were receiving the host with tears so meaningful it evoked the same from my eyes. It seemed like a visit to Mecca for Muslims, or to the Church of the Nativity in Israel for Christians.

I wanted a photo of the inside so badly, but none were available, not even on postcards at the souvenir counter outside. That, I believe, reflects the sacredness of the spot.

But I was able to photograph some of the external murals.

outside murals

External mural

We spent the next to the last day in Bulgaria just hanging out because our planned tour was cancelled by the guide. It turns out the heat was too extreme. It was only when we got home that we realized we’d been living in a heat wave. Having too much of a good time to notice, I guess. But we were pretty much ready to ease off at that point.

And Doug managed a creative meal with one frying pan and one large pot.

Doug cooking

Served on our delightful cozy deck.

Dinner on the deck

Our final full day was spent in Bansko where there were some noteworthy things to record. One reminded me of the springs of mountain water we used to enjoy in Vermont, but much more central water supplies in the city.

public water 2

public water supply

And there was the recycling,

recycling

Especially beautiful everywhere, I thought, were the tile decorations as part of the architecture. Here is the second floor of one of the businesses. From another angle it’s included in the new header.

Tiled building

We also had the good luck to arrive in Bansko on the day of the international jazz festival. Our first inkling was the set up below.

Jazz festival

And then front row seats (because we got there early) just behind the VIP section. The entire program was in English – I guess because jazz is primarily an American product.

Jazz stage

We elected to stay in a hotel in Sofia the night before our flight home. On the way we intended to stop at a couple of recommended sites. One we never did find, which points up how terrible the signage is. It’s not just that the signs are not in English, there just was no clear indication at all. We missed one place totally, but quite by accident we did hit upon the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, one of the largest Eastern Orthodox Cathedrals in the world. Built to honor the dead in the war which liberated Bulgaria from Ottoman rule, it is truly an awesome sight — in the original sense of the word.

Alexander Nevsky

As with the cathedral at the Rila monastery, we were not allowed to take photos inside, and again I found no postcards or other sources of pictures. To tell the truth, though, it didn’t evoke the emotional reaction I experienced at the Rila Monastery with it’s place in Bulgarian history.

It was at this site that we experienced a rather sour ending to our journey. We were on a large plaza surrounding this tourist attraction. Seeing a lovely restaurant we decided to have lunch before leaving the area. We carefully moved the car to an area where there was nothing to indicate that parking was banned. And we avoided areas where signs that clearly indicated restriction to handicapped parking. Consider that we were on a plaza where tourists were clearly expected.

But after lunch we came out to find that our rental car had been booted.

Booted car

Not knowing the language, and having no functioning cell phone, we had to rely on the folks at the restaurant to call the indicated number for us. The three minute wait we were promised became twenty minutes before the authorities came. We had to pay a fine of 32 lev (not a huge amount) but credit cards were rarely accepted in Bulgaria, and we had been spending down our levs, so Doug was sent off to an ATM machine while the boot cops went off to free someone else, returning after about fifteen minutes to accept the levs Doug had acquired.

In the meantime, folks passing by expressed sympathy, and I searched but found nothing that looked like a “No Parking” sign. It turns out we should just have known that, to park in Sophia, one has to text the police and buy a one or two hour permit. Hardly a possibility for tourists like us with our language and cell phone limitations. It was clear there was no eagerness to make tourists feel welcome.

Still, I’d happily return for another visit with our new awareness. And, at the hotel restaurant we were treated very kindly by the host who brought us tap water and veggies even though we had declined to order them. With a smile, he indicated he knew we were almost out of levs. (Remember, credit cards are generally not acceptable.)

And so ended our four-week European adventure,with fond memories of Bulgaria in spite of the sour note at the end.

I won’t even bore you with the problems with our flight home. Well, just a hint, we were scheduled to fly from Paris to Minneapolis on a flight number that didn’t exist. Actually, we were lucky to get one the same day. Delta did give us some flight miles, but the truth is it was the fault of the travel agency, not the airline. So, thank you Delta.

SITTING BY THE MAILBOX TO RETRIEVE THE LETTER   6 comments

Back in my college days, it was a pretty common sight to see a classmate sitting by the mailbox hoping the mailman (sic) would allow her to retrieve the letter she wrote in haste and regretted sending. Today there’s an even greater danger of doing something in haste that will be regretted later. That’s what I thought of as I decided to enter the following on my Facebook page. 4giveletGrow.

“WAIT! Don’t take action when you are in the midst of shock and pain over the wrong you have suffered. One of our forgiveness class members pointed out yesterday that e-mail heightens the danger; it’s so easy to press “send.” Wait! Process and wait!”

Posted November 16, 2013 by Mona Gustafson Affinito in Uncategorized

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RECENT FACEBOOK PAGE ENTRIES   3 comments

Today on 4giveletGrow:

“We can blame somebody and refuse to forgive him. But we cannot forgive him if we dare not blame him.” Lewis B. Smedes, page 77 in the “Art of Forgiving,” (my favorite book after my own.)

Yesterday on 4giveletGrow:

Today’s 2:00 a.m. thought. After the hurt two things are needed: grieving and rebuilding/restructuring – and they probably shouldn’t be done in the same place.

This morning I finished giving a four-session course on forgiveness to a wonderful group of about 15 people. I’ll miss them, but I’ll carry the good fruits of our relationship for a long time. And I hope they will too.

 

BULGARIA IS COMING, BUT FIRST   6 comments

I know. I should have shared Bulgaria long ago, but the tail I’ve been chasing continues to elude me.

I have returned to entering stuff on my Facebook page, though. Please go to Facebook and search on 4giveLetGrow. 

These are the entries from yesterday and today.

11/12/13: Finishing up a forgiveness course this week with a group of amazing people. One thought of many to follow. Forget about “Forgive and Forget.” You won’t forget, unless you’re extremely good at denial or repression. But you can find relief from the pain.

11/13/13: Picking up the pieces after the offense. hurt, confusion, anger — what did happen? Not at all easy, but the first step is to pull together the facts. What? When? Details. Maybe why? Any stories to share?