Monday, February 23, 2009

Understanding and Forgiveness

An old French proverb suggests that "To understand all is to forgive all."

In a time when circumstances affecting us seem to be nothing but bad news (worrisome, distressing, depressing, demoralizing...add your own adjectives), it is natural to feel anger, frustration, confusion, and many more emotions that are indescribable because language often fails our feelings. This much I know: I don't feel like forgiving people who have, through their avarice, selfishness, sense of entitlement, lack of compassion, cynicism, ignorance, and mean-spiritedness, hurt others in ways that are unable to be catalogued and unable to be known unless one walks in that person's shoes and experiences that person's fear, for all things take their nourishment from either fear or love. Think of any situation that is in the current news, and it will be hard to find the humility and openness to forgive these kinds of sins. Anger and fantasized revenge seem more appropriate, or we can choose to believe that God invented Karma so she wouldn't have to keep track of every little thing.

Sometimes, anger is a good self-protector, and unforgiveness is a necessary state of being (for a while). It is hard to live in a nearly constant state of fear, anger, irritability, and restlessness, however. It is at the times when we have reached a saturation point that we cast about for ways to restore peace or homeostasis inside ourselves. We seek a way of viewing the world, of reacting to the world and all that's in it (externally and internally), that will give us comfort and ease our minds. That is when instruments of change, such as the remembrance of an old French proverb, often appear to us. If we are both lucky and intentional, these reminders may compel us to think about (meditate on) their meaning in our lives and how we can use them to get closer to our goal of inner peace.

What if we endeavored to understand all? Unless we are God, we cannot possibly understand all. We don't have the capacity to do that, but what if we endeavored to understand, to look past the apparent behavior, the superficial impression? What if we used the compassion that is available to us to try to understand, or even imagine, what is going on inside another person, the one we judge as the sinner, the criminal, the loser, the hopeless moron? Might our efforts to try to understand, even though we can never completely understand, at least get us to a nonjudgmental point of view? Might it get us to a place of forgiveness? And is forgiveness a way to achieve wholeness, a way to diminish the psychoemotional distance between God and self? Between self and other?

Some of us do believe that we are all one, that there is no difference between us, that what we do as individuals affects the whole of the universe. But the world's sentient creatures do not seem to act as though what one does affects everyone else. From childhood on, we are taught to be separate, to be the "rugged individualist," to stand out and apart from the crowd, to compete with one another for market share, to achieve and be the envy of the unachieving masses, to reach our great and lonely potential. Under the umbrella of "love," competitiveness, self-interest, and contrived apartness often fuel our relationships. What will it be like when there is no distance or distinction at all between our separate, tiny selves?

Michael Chabon's book entitled "The Yiddish Policemen's Union" contains this passage: "But there was always a shortfall, wasn't there? Between the match that the Holy One, blessed be He, envisioned and the reality of the situation under the chuppah. [Note: Chuppah is a Hebrew word for 'canopy,' under which those about to be married stand.] Between the commandment and observance, heaven and earth, husband and wife, Zion and Jew. They called that shortfall "the world." Only when Messiah came would the breach be closed, all separations, distinctions, and distances collapsed. Until then, thanks be unto His Name, sparks, bright sparks, might leap across the gap, as between electric poles. And we must be grateful for their momentary light."

Evelyn Waugh, in his masterpiece of literature entitled "Brideshead Revisited," said: "To know and love one other person is the source of all wisdom."

Sunday, February 22, 2009

The Future of Language Skills

A recent periodical published an editorial that is distressing (to me). The author predicted that the use of commas and apostrophes would fade away during the next 50 (or less) years. With ever-increasing use of the Internet, e-mail, and text messaging, the written language has been and will continue to be watered down, abbreviated, and bastardized to quite informal standards (read: no standards), the likes of which we have not seen since, as a species, we were preliterate. Even now, the gap between the structured formality of the written word and the laxness of the spoken word in civilized society has widened considerably. We see ample evidence of this everywhere, and the illiteracy rate in this technologically advanced country is also shockingly high. While we could long debate the many reasons why these social and educational conditions exist and are evolving into what appears to be further linguistic entropy, it is alarming to reflect on how such informality, for example, might affect dictators and transcriptionists of medical information and other vital information. Perhaps, as in the past, changes in language usage will come about so slowly that no one but purists and ideologues will notice, but if we extrapolate trends from the rapid advancement of global electronic communication ability to the development of global language, we may see an effervescent destructuring of grammatical rules and "good" English. Proper language usage will continue to exist only because it is practiced by those who genuinely have an affinity for effectiveness, clarity, and correctness. It does take a certain amount of enlightened intellect to adhere to correctness in the face of the persistent cultural dumbing-down of language skills; otherwise, swift deterioration is usually the result. As is said in many contexts, "Use it or lose it" applies also to the rules of language.

How many of us can remember the rules? Let's start with the parts of speech. How many are there? Do you remember learning this in 2nd, 3rd, or 4th grade? There are eight parts of speech: Noun, pronoun, verb/verbal, adverb, adjective, interjection, preposition, and conjunction. Conjunctions are further subdivided into three types: Coordinating, subordinating, and correlative.

A coordinating conjunction is used in a compound sentence. A compound sentence is composed of two independent clauses (sentences that can stand on their own) hooked together by a coordinating conjunction and requiring a comma before the coordinating conjunction. Coordinating conjunctions are easily remembered using the mnemonic (a word trick to help memory) FANBOYS, where F is for, A is and, N is nor, B is but, O is or, Y is yet, and S is so.

Here is an example of a compound sentence with proper punctuation (a comma) in front of the coordinating conjunction: "The red fox came to the edge of the road, and he stopped to look for oncoming traffic."

I'd like to continue with an explanation of subordinating conjunctions, but first I'd like to say a word about phrases and clauses in general. Some word combinations in sentences are called phrases. Phrases do not contain both subjects and predicates. Phrases are subdivided into noun phrases (e.g., "The tall, dark-haired, mysterious man") and verb or adverbial phrases (e.g., "should have gone to work") or prepositional phrases (e.g., "in the morning."). Prepositional phrases usually function as adverbs or adjectives. Unlike phrases, clauses contain both subjects and predicates. Some clauses are, in fact, complete sentences.

Don't let subjects and predictates scare you. A subject is nothing more than a noun (person, place, or thing), and a predicate is nothing more than what happens to the person, place, or thing. In some sentences, the subject and predicate can each be as short as one word (e.g., "Jane cried."). "Jane" is the subject, and "cried" is the predicate. Why did Jane cry? Perhaps it is because she is mourning the decay of correctly structured language in our culture. The following sentence is more typical in length: "The hungry children ate everything except the kitchen sink." Here the word "children" is the subject ("hungry" is the adjective that helps describe the children), and "ate" is the verb. "Ate everything except the kitchen sink" is the entire predicate. It tells what the subject did.

Sometimes verbs do not describe action but instead describe conditions. These are called linking verbs because they link subjects to words that describe them or rename them. Sentences with linking verbs can also, however, be divided into subject and predicate. An example of a sentence with a linking verb is as follows: "The captain of our football team was my brother." "The captain of our football team" is the subject, "was" is the linking verb, and "was my brother" is the predicate. Here the linking verb does not describe an action but, rather, describes a condition. Some sentences can be very complicated, but these are examples of basic patterns that will help in understanding more complex sentences if you plan to spend weekends diagramming sentences.

An independent clause is a complete sentence containing a subject and predicate. More than one independent clause can be joined together by a coordinating conjunction to form a compound sentence (as previously mentioned). A dependent clause, however, contains a subject and verb but cannot stand alone as a sentence. Dependent clauses begin with subordinating conjunctions such as after, although, as, because, before, even though, if, since, unless, when, and while. Subordinating conjunctions connect clauses of unequal importance, and the subordinating conjunction appears at the beginning or in the middle of a sentence. Since a dependent clause waits for its fulfillment from another part of the whole sentence, it cannot stand alone. For example, if I said to you, "If you study this grammar lesson with curiosity," and just stopped there, you would naturally wonder, "Yeah, so? Then what?" You are waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. "If you study this grammar lesson with curiosity, you will become rich and famous." It could happen.

Another kind of dependent clause begins with a relative pronoun such as who, which, or that. These are known as relative clauses, and they can also occur in the middle of a sentence. For example, "I know a man who has six toes" demonstrates a relative clause ("who has six toes").

Any sentence that contains one single independent clause is a simple sentence and requires no punctuation other than the period (full stop) at the end. If a sentence contains multiple subjects and one verb, it is still a simple sentence (e.g., "The white count and amylase were normal on admission but were rapidly deteriorating." This is a simple sentence with two subjects and two verbs, not requiring punctuation except for the period at the end.

In my work as a trainer of medical transcriptionists, most of the errors I see in grammar and punctuation usage cluster around just a few (but important) concepts:
1. Recognizing and correctly punctuating a compound sentence;
2. Recognizing and correctly punctuating an opening prepositional or adverbial phrase;
3. Recognizing the "dual" use of a conjunctive adverb and how to punctuate it according to its job in the sentence;
4. Recognizing and resolving comma splices and run-on sentences.

We will take up the thread tomorrow.

The Necessary Lightness of Laughter

One can philosophize about the joys and benefits of four seasons, but in growing up sixty-some years ago on a Minnesota farm, winters were, frankly, a burden. As though the environment didn't pose enough challenges with prodigious amounts of snow up to one's eyeballs and long periods of unbelievable, unremitting Arctic coldness, there was also an internal burden, a kind of psychological or spiritual weight one felt when the intractable winter seemed to never want to end.

Easter was always a turning point for me. Even when Easter came early and there was a good chance it would still be "winter," it was nevertheless a passage from darkness and heaviness into light, warmth, and effervescence. A good part of this rite of passage took place when shopping with my mother for a new Easter outfit. What a relief it was to shed those cumbersome, thick, dark winter clothes and feel the ethereal kiss of completely impractical lightweight cotton. What a sense of freedom it was to put away those furry earmuffs and woolen scarves and don an utterly useless white straw hat. It felt necessary to do this every spring, necessary to breathe deeply, necessary to let in and become the lightness of being. More than anything, I think it was about balance in life, the yin/yang of dark/light, day/night, summer/winter, planting/reaping, joy/sorrow, living/dying.

As a nation, we have been preoccupied for months (and years) with the 9/11 tragedy, terrorism in general, our international wars, drought, the weather, global warming, the stock market, the economy, political scandals, election shenanigans, and all the other bad news that hits us every day. As individuals, these global and our own personal weighty and serious matters point up the need for lightness and balance in our lives.

At times, especially during periods of extraordinary stress, it seems as though all we do is work and worry. Work and worry could occupy our entire existence, and yet we instinctively know that working too much is not healthy or balanced and that when one works all the time (or does too much of any one thing), things feel out of kilter. Worry, in itself, is a killer.

One of the most therapeutic aspects about the work of medical transcription is that it contains an inherent opportunity for laughter. Not everything we see or hear is funny, but there are many moments when we cannot help but laugh, even if at ourselves. Laughter is thought to be a hard-wired physical and psychological reflex, so if things strike us funny and make us laugh, we can't help it. It's in our nature. Laughter modulates the immune system, attenuates stress-related hormones, increases the number of natural virus killer cells, and activates T and B cells. It gets stagnant air moving out of the lungs, which increases the blood oxygen. It raises the heart rate, and it increases the peripheral circulation. It is thought also to aid in digestion. Laughter makes our faces look nonthreatening.

Since human beings laugh about 30 times more often in social situations than when alone, it behooves us, as MTs working primarily in isolated conditions, to make ourselves aware of our need to be able to laugh alone and to practice it. If you can't find anything to laugh about, just fake it, like the woman who went to a serious sales convention and felt out of place because she was the only one without a beeper. The next day, she came back to the conference with her garage-door opener clipped to her belt. So there. Stand in front of a mirror, look yourself in the face, and say "ha ha ha ha ho ho ho ho he he he he ha ha ha ha." I promise you, you'll laugh (eventually).

Here are some recent bloopers seen in medical reports (for real):
"No history of tardy stools."
"Rectal exam defurred."
"Fan and steal incision."
"Low bile hypertension."
"The heart has no memories, scallops, or rubs."
"Status post blown knee amputation."
"Theological test for syphilis was positive."
"This Grandma Kipperus was given a sternovaginal examination."
"The patient is to return in 2 months for her Pabst beer (Pap smear)."
"Finger-in-the-nose testing was done well."
"X-rays of the vertebral column showed bunny fur formation (bony spur)." Just in time for Easter.

One of the funniest books ever written about medicine was called "House of God" by Samuel Shem. It's an old book now but still a good one. He was the first one to describe a GOMER (Get Out Of My Emergency Room). A GOMER is a patient who defies all medical reason. Shem's criteria for a GOMER are:
1. Medical chart weighs more than 5 pounds.
2. Ties Foley catheter into pajama strings.
3. Has seizure and never drops cigarette.
4. Asks for cigarette during pulmonary function testing.
5. BUN higher than IQ.
6. PO2 less than respiratory rate.

May your transition to spring bring you the necessary lightness of laughter and other gifts of the spirit.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Launching a Second Life

Divine Greetings to All! Go to YouTube and look up Gregg Braden for information on The Divine Matrix. Here is the first installment to get started.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjM9JhzlXR0

This is not a religious blog. This is a place to express thoughts about spirit, intention, and right behavior. It is a place to discover and create a perspective, a way, a longing, and a reason for becoming as fully human as potential will allow. Welcome The Artist Within.

We won't see the change we want in the world unless we each become the change. There is hope in critical mass, and the critical mass may be less than we previously thought it needed to be to effect real change in how this world is formed and how its people act. Now is the time to stop committing crimes (sins) against humanity. Crimes (sins) come in all shapes and sizes. Crime (sin) is examined by asking the question: Will my action hurt another being (human or animal)? To sin is to err, to make a mistake, to miss the mark, to believe wrongly. The definition of sin does not have to include religious implications. One can be nonreligious and still believe in and commit sin. Evil is the unwillingness to examine one's own sin. There are examples of evil all around us. Apologizing for sin/error is not the same as atoning or making amends. Words do not make amends or cause atonement. Right actions do. How we behave in the world is what determines the form, the meaning, and the future of this planet and all life that inhabits it.