The Joy of Being

In this jolly time, I’ve been distracted by the radio, and sometimes unable to move away from the train wreck that is our country at the moment, but then, I visit my children and their children for a little time and regain my perspective. The next generation knows right from wrong, takes care of business and looks for ways to make the world a better place.

This is not true of only my children, but also the children of friends, the violin students I once taught, ad who are still friends, the kids I meet in the stores and at basketball and soccer games.

Of course, I know this is not true universally, but it is true in the schools where I volunteer, even though for some, the fuse may be short because of lousy and even frightening experiences. Still, even the short fused, and the self-defensive, want better and try to gain the skills to make better decisions. It just takes a long time to re-train a world view made negative by a volatile life.

So, I come home ready to write more about those kinds of people making tough decisions and facing adversity with courage. I come home, ever more determined to be with those who want the best but aren’t sure it is out there for them.

And I grow determined to be in the right place when that one kid or grown up needs to know there is love and care waiting for them.

Because of my own life experiences, I enjoy going to the nearby shelter for veterans, where the vets are sharing safety and their stories, where I can help others feed them something made with care and flavor, and then sit with them and talk.

I seek out opportunities to work with people in the congregations of the Interfaith Alliance on Poverty, where there is a work team advocating for changes in laws. They advocate with government entities so that obstacles to a stable life, a poverty free life can be eliminated.

I work with another work team, people who volunteer helping people move out of homelessness and into safe living spaces. I've seen mighty impressive changes people make when they have a home and safety.

I like to go where children and adults are learning through play. Here are we at MoMath a museum about Math ideas.

And here where children can play and learn about simple things.

I enjoy every chance I get to be with middle school students as they explore the world and learn how to make it work for themselves. For some, who have a structured and loving foundation, I can watch them explore how to make the world work for their friends as well.

Being with others as we take a new look at the world from a new angle renews my hope.

There is joy in being with people who are finding their way, seeing things anew. I make myself available as we search through options and interpret what is happening. And in those joyous moments when others find a light in darkness, I am also made whole.

Why survive the Apocalypse?

June 24, 2015

I’m looking at our world in a brand new way this year. Life is fragile, and we are part of that fragile fabric. Aware of the ephemeral, I decided to gift my family with the first step in a survival kit. Ever since, I’ve been watching the small habits and charming humor in the people around me. I’ve been smelling the morning, greeting the raccoon and the chickadees, really studying the texture, the light and the shadows in places that I often take for granted.

I’ve had some readers comment that they don’t want to be around after the apocalypse, (or after the Great Subduction Zone Earthquake).

I understand that feeling. Recovery is work, and fear, and discovered loss. Loss would make recovery seem like shoving one foot in front of the other, even though we also might, at the same time, discover people and things that have not been lost.

But I have a list of what I want to be around for – people, places and ideas I want to assist in recovery, if I’m still here.

Of course, family is the beginning of that list: Woody, my resilient and positive husband, our wonderful kids, grandkids, brothers and sisters, all the in-laws and out. And then friends, my great, close and wise friends. Kids I’ve taught and get a kick out of because of their humor, their imaginations and their energy.

I would hope to find all these people, though some may be missing. Together, we survivors could rebuild our world, create support, maybe even improve our community, over time.

Is this a group hug?

And I would look for my neighbors, some of whom already are friends, and some who might become better friends if we have to rely on each other.

And I will want to see what flowers arise from the ashes during the next spring. Fireweed and pine trees open first after forest fires. What will grow through our broken concrete? I want to be as strong and persistent as those flowers.

Some folks who’ve insisted they don’t want to be around afterward also discuss the innate savagery of people following a disaster. Yes, we all have that capacity. Indeed we do. But we all also have the capability for mutual building. I want to be here to help encourage the building.

Is this blog a downer? I’m thinking here about the people I appreciate, believe in, and with whom I want to recover. You’ve got that list inside of you as well.

So, let’s plan and get ready for the next event, whether the event is bugs in our water or the earth moving under our feet. Here are some photos of things I’ll watch for and nurture afterward.

Next issue of Rae: Always Asking will be about cooking after the big event. Tune in and see what I’m learning and what resources I’m finding.

On the Way to the Earthquake

March 2018

Do you know what direction your world turns? Do you know how to stop it from running around you in a blur of color? Here’s how to stop that feeling.

After a year of writing about how we can get ready for an earthquake, I created my own personal earthquake a year and a half ago, and now I am recovered. I created a perfect earthquake by ignoring stuff in order to do something I love.

Don’t do this at your house!

My son and daughter-in-law know me well, and asked me to help as they constructed a new yard in what once was a swamp in Northeast Portland. I dig this kind of day, so with plans, pruners and shovels in hand, I went off (well before the election) to drain the swamp.

Mistake number one: Working alongside my son as he used a noisy machine to dig the planned trench for irrigation and lighting.

The ugly early stages of renovation. Puppy likes dirt best. Photo, Rae Richen

Second big mistake: Bending over frequently to toss aside the thousand rocks that he might run into with that machine.

Mistake three: Enjoying dirt and company so much I ignored early warning signs that my head was not working right.

By day’s end, I was in the hospital with the worst case of vertigo anyone should ever endure. Friends, don’t ignore symptoms. Take care of yourselves.

I know the world turns, but for the next several days, it whirled. If I were an abstract painter, I’d show you a picture of many shades of blues, greens and yellows all swirling and converging from left to right. The accompanying photo is a hint, but not fast enough and not enough colors. Still, close to the feeling.

After a few days, I still lay flat, and all else still seemed to be in constant motion. I had plenty of time to wonder if right-handed vertiginous people endure a world that moves right to left. As a left-hander, mine always moved left to right. What does your vertigo show you?

I also had enough time to wonder why I rarely saw purple or red in this world.

None of the doctors I asked these questions had ever made a study of the vertigo world and its visual effects. They were too busy trying to get my world to slow down. I appreciate them very much. However, my curiosity about these effects remains. I just can’t figure a way to create a study without enduring again.

If you have any data on the vertigo world, please let me know what it looked like to you. And if you have data on vertigo to share, please do share here. I’m sorry for what you have gone through. May it never happen to either of us again.

A perfect recreation of the feeling. Photo by Kai Stachowiak

And may you find the people I have found who helped me recover. Thank goodness for Kaiser Permanente. From the doctors to the physical therapists, they stuck with me for the many months it took to be able to play in my own garden again. (And no, the Epley maneuver wasn’t the cure. We worked it a lot. Often, I understand, it is the cure, so try it if needed.)

The cure was to get my ears and eyes to work together more closely. It turns out that if I turned my head toward a sound, my eyes were way behind in making the turn. My eyes could follow fingers, but not as quickly as my head turned.

Exercises for focusing on a point while turning my head from side to side began the cure. That was followed by focusing on a point in a confusing pattern of black and white tile while turning my head.

Focus on the R in the middle while walking. Now do the same while moving your head back and forth. Now... you get the idea.

I still have that black and white pattern hanging in my hall so I continue to use it. Sometimes I do my exercises instead of washing the dishes (ever heard of a better excuse?)  The next part of the cure was to focus while walking and turning my head (no banging into walls). If you have access to a tread mill, that would be next.

It amazed me, how, after months of dizziness, this one series of graduated exercises made me human again.

Meanwhile, my son and daughter-in-law have created a wonderful garden, mostly free of swampy effects. Here’s the ugly early process. More on the final product another time. Woody, my husband, became their electrical and plumbing guy, but I had to  watch from the sidelines.

And all my kids are good enough to take me shopping for plants with them, and then they plant where I point from a lawn chair. The family is a major part of the recovery process.

I can enjoy the garden again. Thank you doctors, physical therapists and family. Photo Rae Richen

So, I’m back to writing. I can see the keyboard and the screen again, and am getting a next suspenseful novel ready to go. And now that I can do that, I hope also to share writing adventures and non-fiction adventures with you all again.

Stay tuned. Stay upright and stay well.