7 Things I Learned This Autumn
2019
1. Invisible Women
‘Representation of the world, like the world itself, is the work of men; they describe it from their own point of view, which they confuse with the world view.’ -Simone de Beauvoir 1949
Every moment of everyday women are less safe than men in cars, hospitals, offices and on sidewalks due to the archaic practice of using male data and norms as the default for human design. This skewed data creates a female absent presence—a ‘gender data gap’ that author Caroline Criado Perez illuminates for us in her seminal book Invisible Women. Gaps are silences, and gaps are where women’s issues, needs, and impacts consistently vanish between the cracks of everyday reality.
This is big picture thinking: where are we headed in a civilization increasingly saturated by inaccurate data and interpretation with regard to gender? With the race on to develop massive applications for artificial intelligence (A.I.) this question is critical. This is not only a feminist issue, it’s a human one; it will have profound consequences for all of us, over multiple generations to come. Because the woman’s role in our cultural and biological evolution has always been eclipsed by the male experience—the default norm—it’s way past time for public policy to catch up.
I realize this may sound like I am railing against the weather—really, you ask, what is the point? Here is the point: this is the story of what happens when we neglect to take half of humanity into data-based consideration. We need to become extremely vigilant about the current trend of the A.I. evolution concerning women, and hyper-focused on creating public policy that recognizes everyone’s needs from safety features that fit, to the temperature in the room. Speaking of the weather, here’s just one example, from the book’s multitude, that illustrates why it is so vital to include female data in the formulation of public policy.
‘Even snow-ploughing, it turns out, is a feminist issue: in Sweden, roads were once cleared before pavements, a policy derived from data that prioritized commuters in cars over pedestrians ferrying children or doing the shopping–traditional women’s roles. But then officials realized that it’s easier to drive through three inches of snow than it is to push a stroller through it. They changed the policy and found that clearing pavements first kept women and children safer and also saved the state huge medical bills. A study in one Swedish town found that pedestrians were three times more likely to be injured in icy sidewalk conditions than car drivers, and that 70% of those injured were women.’
2. Game Time Decision
I first learned about ‘Game Time Decision’ (GTD) from my dear pal, JBG, and it really came in handy this fall. This is by no means a slacker tool—GTD is optioned only with the sincerest of intentions—yet, it is exactly for the purpose of cutting ourselves some slack. I used to say ‘yes’ to too much, probably a hangover from decades of people pleasing. I no longer have the stamina or desire to over-commit to so much. Scheduling our pleasure time often triggers a confusing duality: our heads want to GO; but increasingly, our butts want to stay home reading by the fire.
Game Time Decisions are about saying ‘yes’ to the things that intrinsically spark us—experiences that truly bring us joy and honor our value system—while preserving the possibly that we might just not show, if self-care needs, complications or conflicts prevail.
For example: in my head, I commit to my bike group ride every Thursday evening in the summertime, but I employ ‘GTD’ if there is the possibility of being at my lake cottage in NEK. This way, my friends know that I’d love to be riding, but that an opportunity to visit my sanctuary will probably prevail.
You don’t get to use GTD frequently or stupidly: this isn’t a strategic option for tennis foursomes when your attendance is essential, or for loitering on the social landscape hoping for a better invitation. No, GTD is a genuine way of saying a hopeful ‘yes’ to larger events where no one is going to suffer if you fail to appear. It’s a way of saying—with integrity—‘I’d love to, but I can’t absolutely commit right now, I’m sorry.’ It’s a way to graciously support your pals and family members, while preserving your own sanity in this busy, complicated world.
PS: I love the idea of ‘NO’vember and am going to mark my 2020 calendar with slashes—way ahead of time. It’s the perfect time of year to go underground and indulge our creative impulses and projects.
3. Bye Bye Birdie!
Change your mind, change your life. As the holidays roll in, I am here to testify that it’s okay to let some stuff go, to change it up after years of tradition in favor of bringing in some new energy and light. For many of us, the holidays will trigger a cascade of obligations and observances that sometimes make it hard to feel the merry. We often get hijacked by sentimentality and a deep desire to make magic for our families, and this can make it difficult to jettison burdens that have become boring. For decades I constructed homemade gingerbread houses with my entire extended family—and we had a blast doing it. Before there was Black Friday, there was Bake Friday when we would create twenty-five time-intensive houses—elaborate concoctions groaning with sugar and spice and everything nice—and it made for a wonderful tradition. Until it didn’t. Until it felt like too much—or never enough. One fine day, as my children morphed into young adults, I realized that I was done with this particular ritual.
We now have a new generation to help shake things up a bit and refresh what making merry feels like. This autumn I stumbled upon the idea of birdhouse painting to replace gingerbread house making—an eco-friendlier, more useful tradition. We did a birdhouse painting party for my Mom’s 84th birthday, and it was such fun that we decided to make it our new Holiday Tradition. Think about what truly brings you joy and make time for that—and let the other stuff go, it will be just fine. Promise!
4. H.A.L.T!
To avoid getting your jingle in a jangle during the holidays ahead, do yourself a favor and abide by the H.A.L.T. method. When you feel frazzled stop and ask yourself:
1. Do I feel Hungry?
2. Do I feel Angry?
3. Do I feel Lonely?
4. Do I feel Tired?
When a problem arises, I have the tendency to go from zero to a hundred too quickly—often down the wrong highway—in my desire to resolve the issue. I’m a fixer and fear triggers this reaction. I learned this simple H.A.L.T. trick, and I found it super effective for identifying, and then diffusing, what was really bothering me. For me, H.A.L.T. has become the difference between crashing and cruising; the difference between reacting and responding.
Chances are strong that when we go off the rails, one of these key elements—hungry, angry, tired, lonely—is active; the ability to quickly recognize, and hopefully remedy, the situation is an empowering tool for self-care. The beauty of ticking through the H.A.L.T. steps can be compassionately extended to our loved ones, co-workers and strangers, as well. Just as we would automatically do this type of ‘sound check’ for a toddler during an epic tantrum, everyone—from children to senior citizens—are physiologically in need of just as much Tender Loving Care. It’s helpful to bear in mind that only people who are unhappy with themselves are mean to others: hurting people do hurtful things. We all need more compassion and less judgment, especially this time of year—let’s start by spreading some H.A.L.T. love.
5. Adventure: Wynwood Street Art
What was once unthinkable is now the norm in so many respects of the 21st century: the way business is conducted and valued, the way we communicate and interact, the way we shop, eat and entertain ourselves. With the advent of the iphone, and its grandmother, the Internet, every aspect of how we operate as a culture has undergone radical shifts in the last two decades. Art is yet another great example of this evolution. What was once illegal is now celebrated and revered.
To witness this modern-day shift in consciousness all you have to do is visit Wynwood in Miami, Florida. I had a wonderful opportunity to ‘paint’ with some amazing Graffiti artists this autumn, and I learned the difference between street art and graffiti. It’s easy to conflate the two terms: even in the art world they are often used interchangeably to mean ‘art on the street’. Illegal graffiti, the counterculture mama, pertains mainly to the use of words created by self-taught urban artists (once considered juvenile delinquents) and occurs often without permission.
Street art draws from these roots and expands on the style with images and respectability. Street artists are usually formally trained and often work on commission, or at least with permission. It’s large-scale visual art in public spaces and streets often evolving in underdeveloped neighborhoods of large urban areas. The artistic styles are very distinctive and often physically demanding to execute. A visit to Wynwood Walls will give you a satisfying overview of this artistic movement. I learned that while there is a low barrier to access (LBA): anyone can wield a paint can and enjoy the process—witnessing these gifted artists in creative action is truly transformative.
I’m excited to see how rich the world of street art is right here in Vermont. There are murals galore and emerging artists of every stripe have taken to the streets to beautify ugly utility boxes all over town. The power of color and art as it relates to the impact on human health and the ability to feel happy is well documented in author Ingrid Fetell Lee’s new book Joyful: The Surprising Power of Ordinary Things to Create Extraordinary Happiness. Listen to this inspiring podcast to learn more. Bring on the color!
6. Tree Whisperers
How do we embrace the silence so that we can hear our own voice? How do we stay authentically connected to survive as a species? With each season of aging, especially in autumn, I’ve learned that going into the woods—my sanctuary where thousands of wise listeners silently guide me—is increasingly vital to my wellbeing.
Ironically, this resource for reflection is quickly eclipsing and may not even be available to my grandson, when he is my age. This is why the epic and illuminating Pulitzer Prize 2019 winner, The Overstory by Richard Powers, resonated so deeply with me this autumn. I cannot stop thinking and talking about this masterpiece of eco-fiction where we follow nine main characters as they try and hang on to some whisper of rationality and revolt against the ever the increasing plunder of our planet’s main natural resource: trees.
The Gaia principle, which holds that all life interacts with its inorganic environment to form a complex, self-regulating, symbiotic system responsible for sustaining and propagating life on Earth is the overstory. If you already love trees, prepare to have your mind blown. If you are indifferent to the natural world or climate change, I challenge you to resist the transformation this unique reading experience offers. When we exhale carbon dioxide as a waste product it becomes the life-giving force for trees and plants—and the oxygen waste of a plant gives us life. This exchange of gas is what the word spirit means. Spirituality is essentially the act of breathing. The Overstory offers us so much in the way of intellectual spirituality for the season; it is exactly the kind of big, fat fabulous book I love to curl up with in front of the fire. I envy you this read.
7. Grace Note
After you read The Overstory you may be wondering ‘What does authentic connection actually feel like?’ Mary Oliver said that ‘attention without feeling is just a report.’ How many of our relationships are purely transactional or simply habitual? How many occur on such a superficial level that we can’t even recognize, much less admit, how deeply unsatisfying they really are? Inauthentic connection is the junk food for the soul. This is the time of year to examine the pantry of our hearts and reflect on what really feeds our soul. Attention is a means of transcendence. It’s a wonderful time of year to declare our intentions for living a more authentic body-mind-soul lifestyle. This beautiful child’s prayer is for all ages—it is a spiritual invitation to access the natural world and to renew our connections as we choose what truly lights us up for 2020.
SCHOOL PRAYER by Diane Ackerman
In the name of daybreak
and the eyelids of morning
and the wayfaring moon
and the night when it departs,
I swear I will not dishonor
my soul with hatred
but offer myself humbly
as a guardian of nature,
as a healer of misery,
as a messenger of wonder
as an architect of peace.
In the name of the sun and its minors
and the day that embraces it
and the cloud veils drawn over it
and the uttermost night
and the male and the female
and the plants bursting with seed
and the crowning seasons of the firefly
and the apple, I will honor all life
—wherever and in whatever form
it may dwell—on Earth my home,
and in the mansions of the stars.
I’d love to hear from you—feel free to send your comments to me.