at the end of my work day, I had a choice. I had to turn in these reports to a scary manager. Last week, she kept me late at work to tell me how I was doing the reports all wrong. So, I was nervous to sent them to her.

I thought. I will send them seconds before i leave, and then I will dash out the door.

Then I remembered, fear hides and contracts. Love expands. Love would send those reports and be ok with whatever happened.

Several jobs back, I was assigned to work with an older woman. I wasn’t aware for the first several weeks, but I’m sure she knew right away: I was hired to replace her.

Of course, as I was trying to work out what needed to be done and how and when, I asked her for help. What struck me most about her what her presence.

She was not to be rushed. She invited me to sit down, and talk it over. I recall she kept a china teapot with matching cups at her cube. With a manner than impelled me to slow down, she would ask me what I needed and I made sure to speak very politely to her. After talking for some time about this and that, she would answer my work concerns with “I will send you the documents on that. We have it all worked out, don’t worry.”

She never did send me anything. Still. I wasn’t too mad. She owned her space, and no one rushed her about anything. This woman had charm. It pulled me up in my chair, no slouching.  She was warm, don’t get me wrong. I wondered how she would be concerned about whether I had eaten, while so obviously not getting me the documents I’d asked for.

Without her help, I was rushing frantically to pick up the pieces and glue them back together. I admired her style and wished I could be like her.

Then again, they probably wouldn’t have hired me on if I were.
I’m not that way.

I’m the wild child, running from one action to the next, never willing to wait if there is another option.

Let’s go look! Let’s go find out!

Not charming. I wonder if there is a place I could learn her sort of charm?

Funny thing, charm is somehow a feminine characteristic. Men are charming, but only to females. If a man behaves charmingly to other men, it would be seen as a con.

That may be because charm is inherently expectant. My co-worker expected that things would go her way. Indeed, they did. She found another better job in short order.

Charming ladies expect to have doors opened for them. They will wait for it. Me? I rush through, not bearing the loss of time.

There has to be more than one kind of charm. Mine is action oriented.

I’ve read excerpts of it, but I have decided it is time to go deep and read the whole thing. I’ve started and I have a ways to go to get to the end of The Iliad.

It’s a mythological tale, you know. And even before I get to the content, it’s mythological to me. The story itself is about the Greeks conquering the city of Troy. And the story of the story is huge to me.

Greeks were so compelling that the Romans swallowed them whole, and spread through their empire and the history of their empire a barely transformed version of the Greek myths and ideals. THEN the Romans were so compelling that the rest of their former empire swallowed their myths whole. It’s a mythological turducken.

Let me be clear. When I say the rest of the Roman Empire, I am talking about one part: Britain.

One of my English professors explained it this way. He came from an Italian family and his brother told him, “You will always have three identities. We are Italian because that’s our family. We are American because we were born here. And our identity will always be English; because that is the language we speak and read.”

Greek and Latin are so important to Englishness. For centuries the universities on that little island read and translated Greek and Latin texts. It influences every single schoolboy from England. Boys, because that’s how the world worked then. Girls had a different path.

I can feel that while reading the Iliad. I can know that my favorite authors long dead read these stories and thought about these heroic characters. I am in a timeless community of readers with this story.

The Trojan War did actually happen, it’s a true story. A true story rewritten to express the highest ideals of the Greek culture at the time.  Battle and Honor and Glory. Gaining the favor of the gods and battle prizes.

They spoke in beautiful description, sailing their beaked ships and burning thigh bones. This was not everyday speech. It was lofty and expressive. Who talks like that anymore?

Really, who? Honestly, ordinary people even then didn’t talk like that. This was high culture speech, even when it was new.

Who is talking high culture now? Who is aiming for the immortal?

I think of a speech of Winston Churchill, right before WW2:

We must not underrate the gravity of the task which lies before us or the temerity of the ordeal to which we shall not be found unequal. We must expect many disappointments, and many unpleasant surprised, but we may be sure that the task which we have freely accepted is one not beyond the compass and the strength of the British Empire and the French Republic…If these great trials were to come upon our island, there is a generation of Britons here now ready to prove itself not unworthy of the days of yore and not unworthy of those great men, the fathers of our land, who laid the foundations of our laws and shaped the greatness of our county.

So inspiring! Very high culture. And I can hear the heroes, Agamemnon and Achilles, in the words and cadence of this British leader’s words.

Of course, war always brings out speeches. My American president John F. Kennedy had a good speech for the general citizenry

Here is a piece of it:

We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch had been passed to a new generation of Americans—born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage—and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and success of liberty.

Yes. That’s what I’m talking about.

Still, those speeches were a long time ago—more than 50 years old. So much has changed since then. What are our highest ideals? What speaks to us as a higher calling? Who are our visionaries and prophets?

Most recently, Steve Jobs’ 2005 Stanford commencement speech is an example of contemporary high ideals:

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

I also have heard Steven Foster Wallace in his Kenyon commencement speech (turned into a book):

The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline and effort, and being able to truly care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. The alternative in unconsciousness, the default setting, the ‘rat race’-the constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing

These three American men are dead, tragically, which lends pathos to their words. Pathos is an intensifier of profundity, and I will affirm these speeches are profound.

Let me stop here, dear readers, and apologize. I have brought to you in very quick succession, some of the greatest speeches and ideas that this past century contained. It is not fair, I know, and I am standing on lofty shoulders, leaping from peak to peak to explore another idea separate from the topics these speeches express. I am sorry if I give you altitude sickness.

I’m talking about cultural ideals, ancient and modern.  As I read the Iliad, and as I’ve compared it here to more modern idealistic expressions, I see one huge difference.

These modern speeches had one, or perhaps a small group, of authors.  They were also written in a relatively short period of time.

The Iliad was written by Homer. Except it wasn’t. That long epic verse was and refined over time. Many many hands were part of it, although it was so long ago it’s not clear which part got “improved” when. And the academics are still arguing.

My point though, is that this epic poem of high ideals was  an outgrowth of a group of people. Their ideals were static for long enough to endure refinement and preservation.

Our modern ideals are highly individual. Is that all we have time for now? Is that the new shape of the world?

Or do we lack the visionary poet to express the culture of a group?

Who talks that way anymore?

The kids are supposed to dress like the 50s. We did not buy Veronica a poodle skirt, although apparently a lot of other parents did.

Imagine. I don’t even know where to get such an items. Well. I do, the internet.

I asked Veronica last night how she likes school. She said she did, but she didn’t like the parts where she had to be quiet. She wanted to do what she wanted to do, not be quiet.

Hm. I tried to explain that it was the teachers’ turn to do what she wanted. That when she played with friends, they had to take turns doing what each person wants. And the quiet times are when it’s the teacher’s turn.

She is not sure about it.

After watching Frozen, my daughter was entranced with Elsa’s FROZEN POWERS. I tried to convince her that Anna had powers too.

Friendly powers.

She wasn’t having it. But I like the idea that our usual skills are “powers”

Friendly is a big ordinary power. If we can say hi and smile at people it makes life simpler. Doesn’t it?

My coworker was complaining that he should someday soon give in and buy a new truck. And that his OLD OLD OLD truck was in the shop because the navigation system was wonky.Am I on Mars? What is going on? A truck with a navigation system is OLD?

Of course some places can make me feel young. Church, for one. Church is full of Elders. Really truly.

So as we were gathering to talk about something churchy, the leader asks “Do you consider yourself a courageous church? Or status quo?”

They all thought courageous. But what is courageous to a someone who’s faced down three quarters of life already?

Maybe they are courageous on a battle that’s already been won.

Like that story about Japanese people stranded on islands and STILL FIGHTING WW2 long after the emperor surrendered.

I’m about halfway through my life, and I am amazed that old trucks are far more modern than I expect. How do I keep my courage relevant? Where is the front line anymore?

So a friend who is authentically courageous, so strong and vibrant with what life has given her, posted this dense quote on Facebook:

“Changing the way we think means continually shifting our point of orientation. We must take time to look inward: to become aware of, and study, the tacit “truths” that we take for granted; the ways we create knowledge and make meaning in our lives; and the aspirations and expectations that govern what we choose from life. But we must also look outward, by exploring new ideas and different ways of thinking and interacting, connecting to multiple processes and relationships outside ourselves and clarifying our shared visions for the organization and the larger community.” Schools that Learn pg 26 Senge et al

So relevant. I cannot take my truths for granted. If truth is truth, it presents itself anew in every life circumstance. I cannot take it for granted.

I have to keep exploring new thoughts and ways of thinking. That’s part of what this whole Weekly Wonder is about. As quiet and small as it is, we think thoughts and poke at what is happening in the world together.

So what is the vision for courage right now? Where are the battle fields? What are the battle fields?

What is the land we’re living in? My view of the future is now long past.

I can’t see things clearly. My biases are clouding the vision. My experiences have led to be conclusions and those are hard to leave.

So. If I can go deep and come up with my personal battles…To individually and personally pursue happiness, spreading love and peace…and try on some ideas and interactions.

There’s a battle ground. Sometimes a revolution starts with a whisper…

I’m getting to know my coworkers at my new job. Some of them asked how I’d gotten my PMP certification. See, most of them are trying to get that cert.

“I can give you the name of the study group! It’s great…” I prepared to give them the speech of how I did it. How there were phone calls twice a week they could join and it was all I needed. Well, that and studying 10 or more hours a week.

I thought about my life then and my life now. I could not spare ten hours to study right now. I didn’t finish my sentence. Suddenly it felt like a much bigger deal than I had given myself credit for.

Later that night, I was reading my daughter from the Brothers Grimm. Her new favorite fairy tale is Mother Holle.

In the fairy tale, one good hardworking girl is the stepdaughter. The biological daughter is lazy. As the story goes, the good girl drops a spindle down a well and the horrible stepmother forces her to go in after it.

Instead of drowning she finds herself in the land of Mother Holle. She proves herself a good worker and goes into service working for the woman. The trick is she is supposed to shake Mother Holle’s bed and pillows so that the feathers fly about. That means that it is snowing in the human world.

When at last she goes back to her home, Mother Holle rewards her for her service by showering her with gold. Her stepmother and sister are delighted with this, and the lazy girl goes down the well in hopes of getting the same reward.

Of course, the lazy girl is rewarded for her poor service: she is covered with pitch that never washes off.

Now I’m curious. Who is the Mother Holle person? What’s this about her feather bed and snowing?

One thing I know about The Grimm Brothers is that they were interested in more than stories. When they started gathering their stories, their true purpose was to reach back in time and find stories from before literacy. They were looking for stories that were told and repeated from fireside and bedside. What were these people like from before history started?

Mother Holle is one of those before times holdovers. The internet tells me she is a goddess from even before Odin, Thor and the rest of the Asgard crowd.

There are a million little hints at the ancient story of this goddess…the spindle, the well, the tidy home and even maidens are supposed to be the territory of this elemental goddess. She is a foundational force, one not to be denied. Who can mess with the weather? And maiden girls? These are essential components of life.

The story is basic and elemental too. We know this set up: stepdaughter is mistreated and does all the work around the house. The ugly and mean biological daughter is lazy and good-for-nothing.

Cinderella again. What was UP with Cindy anyway? Why did she just take all that crap and do all the work of everybody?

It was just her nature. In the end, she got her reward because she got the prince. He may not have valued how well she could wash the drapes in the palace, but something about her grabbed him.

In the case of the Mother Holle story, the hard-working girl was so afraid of her stepmother that she jumped down a well rather than return without her spindle. Rather than drowning, like she should have, she lands in a beautiful meadow. She follows her nature, and does the things asked of her as well as she can.

She can do things pretty well, as it turns out.

Something flashed to me. I took the time to study and learn and get this certification some many years ago. I didn’t think anything of it. It was fun to learn and fun to study. I didn’t think about how hard it was.

The industrious girl didn’t think about it being hard to shake that feather bed. She just did the best she could.

It was her nature.

Our best nature is elemental. It’s best to pursue it on all occasions. I followed it for no good reason when I was studying and I got the reward. The hardworking girl followed her highest nature when she did the work for Mother Holle. And as sure as it snows in the North, our rewards will come.

This is a delightful surprise, because we would be doing our best regardless.

It’s some sort of developement stage, I’m sure. The age of toilet talk.

Sometimes I can ignore it in my child. And sometimes at the end of the day I am tired of hearing about poop and toilets and bottoms.

So round about bath-n-bedtime, I hear her tell me she is going to poop in my ear and I’m over it.

“That’s gross! Listen to you potty talking.”

She’s sensitive lately, and her response to disapproval of any kind is strict: “Do you still love me?”

Of course I love her. I’ve told her that at other times when she asks. This time is different though.

As if I have already confirmed her fear, as if I already removed my love from her, she says indignantly, “You told me! You said you would always love me no matter what!”

I have told her this, so many many times. She remembered my promise, and is holding me to it.

My daughter is being exquisitely human before my eyes.

She is afraid that her wrong-doing will separate her from my love. That some imperfection in her will break it.

But she remembered my promise.

She remembered. And she fought against this rejection she assumed.

Her fear of abandonment had an answer from inside her.

Of course, I had to go on and explain that even though I would always and forever love her no matter what, I still wished she would not use potty talk. Not easy.

first day went well. Everyone was very helpful. I was very grateful to put on a dress and to have meetings and exchange complete sentences with other grownups.

The irony? When I got home, I got all sniffly that I’d been away from my kid all day.

I don’t make any damn sense.

she had a great day with daddy. We are all very well.

And tomorrow I get to do it again. I am happy

I have a job again. I am going to have to see where the best time to do my writing fits in.

I don’t suppose I’ll be able to know that until at least the 2nd week. There is a lot to learn