Zebra stripes

My ears perk up when I hear a Science Writer talking.  I know for a fact they are smart, curious and very good communicators.  So today when I heard Ira Flatow on NPR's "Science Friday" interviewing a Science Writer from Minnesota Public Radio, I listened carefully.  The topic was why zebras' coats are striped.  It's just the kind of question I might have asked my biology students when I taught.  The expected answer would have been because the stripes provide them the advantage of camouflage from their predators.  Classic natural selection: those zebras that had black and white stripes weren't as visible to their predators, hence they weren't killed as often, living to pass on their striped coat genes to their offspring who were also striped and over lots of time, all the zebras got striped coats.  Well, some scientist had the idea to study lions vision.  Lions are the major zebra predator and guess what, lions can't see that far.  So even though humans have good distance vision and can see 600 feet where the zebra stripes fade into the shadow, lions can only see 200 feet or so.  At that distance, camouflage doesn't matter because lions can actually smell the zebras.  So why are zebras striped?  No one knows the answer.  I love that about science!  No one knows and now more studies can be done.  Perhaps, as some scientist suggested, the stripes provide cooling for the animals: the black stripes absorbing more heat than the white stripes thereby setting up tiny currents of air movement on the zebras skin.  But really no one knows.  And on we go, learning more and more.  Isn't it just wonderful how science works?!!

Books

I've always loved books.  I was the kind of kid that always had my nose in a book when I was growing up.  I always completed the library summer reading program in the first week.  As an adult, I'm pretty well armored against impulse buying except for books.  I treasure my books and over the years, I've accumulated very many.  One of the tasks I face at my age is letting go.  Tell me to let go of something and it is my first instinct to cling to it more tightly.  This month, I've been practicing by letting go of some of my books, donating them to the book sale at school where I formerly taught.  I gave ten big shopping bags full, more than 200 books.  But it was tough going.  Giving away a book is like giving away a old friend.  In the books was a history of my life interests.  Each book had a story to tell.   There was a book about India I remember buying when I was creating a new World Affairs course and I needed to learn more about the countries of the world.  There were books from my favorite courses in seminary - a course on Moses and another on the Book of Job.  There were books on the history of early California, books by John Muir and books by naturalists that I used in my Natural History of California course.  There were also books I couldn't yet give up like my Marine Biology books or my poetry books.  I still have plenty of books left and I want to read some of them again.  Letting go of my books was a true spiritual practice.  Surprisingly, letting go was very freeing.  I felt a sense of lightness as I drove away from the book drop-off spot.  Now, not only is there space on my bookshelves, but there is more space in my inner life.  Maybe letting go won't be as hard as I imagine it to be.

Teddy Bears for a birthday

Every once in a while, one hears about something truly amazing.  This story is one such example.  My sister's grand-daughter turned eight a week or so ago.  She's a precocious child, a champion swimmer, has a black belt in karate, studies in a Chinese immersion program at school and she plays the harp.  For her recent birthday, she told her 8 year old guests she didn't want any presents for herself.  She asked them instead to bring a teddy bear because she has decided to go to the children's wing of the hospital to play her harp and wants to give the sick children teddy bears.   And she came up with this idea all by herself.  Even though there are countless horrible things going on in our world, there's great good too when a child can come up with such an idea as this to make the world a better place.

Not knowing

I went to the doctor today and am happy to say all is well.   But I'm more than a little miffed that he had the results of the biopsies the next day and didn't call me as he said he would.  That gave me eight extra days of waiting.  Eight extra days of not knowing what the outcome was.  Eight unnecessary days to worry.  It takes energy to live in this "not-knowing" space.  It's hard to be peaceful when all the various mostly negative possibilities rise up in my imagination and create long painful stories.  Really, it's not just in not-knowing times like I just experienced, we all live most of our lives actually not knowing what will happen next.  And we don't like to accept that life is unpredictable.  We are so much more comfortable when we believe we are in control.  As I think about these last days, I see there were also gifts from my time of not-knowing.  It is fertile ground.  I found it is spacious living in this not knowing space.  I practiced deep slow breathing when I found myself anxious and calmed down.  I found there is room to grow in trust in the goodness of life living in this not-knowing space. There is room to grow in recognition of beauty and kindness that is all around me because I slowed down and paid attention.  When I think about it, I found in this time of not knowing that I was able to receive love I too often take for granted.  Not knowing is how our life really is and it is a good thing with gifts even though I wish that doctor had notified me sooner.

Waiting

Generally I am a patient person.  I wasn't always that way.  I learned patience through life experiences - parenting, teaching, being married- and through my hobbies.  Weaving is extremely time consuming in the set up of the warp.  More than half the total time needed to do a project is spent doing the set-up.   I learned over the years to relax and enjoy that part so that when the fun part comes, watching the fabric being created out of yarn, I'm doubly happy.   I've learned when I'm hiking that the journey IS the point, not getting to the destination however beautiful it may be.  Waiting tests my patience, always and forever.  Waiting can be such a lonely activity.  One wakes up in the night, wondering what will happen and there is nothing to do but move away from anxiety into not-knowing and go back to sleep.  I am waiting for biopsy results and even though it's only been four days and the outlook is very positive,  it seems such a long time.

Quiet

Everyone has gone from here and it is so quiet.  I think about how God speaks in whispers as far as I know, in the quiet.  It makes me realize how the rambunctious energy of the whole family kept me focused on what was happening at the time.  Now, there is quiet.  It feels so good to have the quiet, much as I love the family with all the children, with their demands and all the grown children with their own ways of being, their helping ways and their wonderful energy.  It is so quiet now and I love to listen for God's whispers.  What might I hear, I wonder, if I listen in the quiet?

Happy New Year

The morning dawned clear and crisp, like any other day ahead, yet it isn't, it is the first day of a New Year.   Funny, how things seem just the same as they were before, not especially new or magically different unless I deem they to be different.  Last night, we participated in the New Year's Eve rituals- watching the mirror ball drop in Times Square in New York City on television,  playing board games and thinking briefly about New Year's resolutions.   I know I want to be more graciously gratefully aware of all the blessings in my life, big and little, not taking them for granted.  I want to be a more positive person, encouraging those I meet with a smile or extending a hand to help.  Life is slipping by, the changes are hardly noticed and it is a New Year.  I hope in my own small way, I can help make 2016 be a year of more kindness and less violence.