The time: September 1970. The place: Malaga, Spain, at the best hotel – I don’t remember the name. But what the hell, it was a vacation paid for by my expense account, as a reward for three weeks of intensive work in London, Paris, Rome, Brussels and Copenhagen.

You call that work? Well, it was intense.

Richard - considerably younger than me - French Canadian, kinda cute - and I were frolicking in the pool when he asked
“Do you ski?”

“Of course” I replied.

“Then you must come to my ski house next spring. I will give a big party for you.”

“That would be fun.”

I never expected to hear from him again, but the call came shortly after the first of the year.

Never one to refuse a romantic adventure, I accepted his invitation though I didn’t even know how to put on ski boots. Not to worry, I bought a copy of the Village Voice, a local NY paper which advertised such things as ski sojourns: nine hours of instruction included, over President’s Day weekend. Perfect.

NEXT I MAXED OUT MY CREDIT CARD AT PRINCETON SKI SHOP, FOR A PLUM JUMPSUIT, A RASPBERRY TURTLENECK AND ALL THE TRIMMINGS.

It turned out to be a singles event, loaded with much younger people who started partying on the bus Friday night. At White Plains we stopped to board a grown-up man!!!

Well it rained non-stop all weekend. Saturday morning I bravely donned my new duds and headed for breakfast.

THERE HE WAS, JUST STARTING A LARGE EMPTY ROUND TABLE, WEARING A BLUE SCANDINAVIAN DESIGN SWEATER THAT MATCHED HIS EYES.

 I GRABBED A CUP OF COFFEE; WALKED OVER AND SAID “MAY I JOIN YOU?”

The next weekend we went to Killington, Vermont, where he hired an instructor for me. I lost my ski-bunny status. The next week we went to the Metropolitan Opera.

For a lot of years we vacationed over Christmas/New Year’s at the fashionable ski resort, Aspen, Co.

He moved to Manhattan, five blocks away from my apartment, to save the driving back and forth from White Plains.

TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS LATER HE GOT SICK; FOR YEARS PREVIOUSLY, HE HAD REPEATEDLY ANNOUNCED THAT HE WOULD NOT LIVE TO SEE THE MILLENIUM.

HE PASSED DECEMBER 31, 1999

BE VERY CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY.

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, IT’S OFTEN A VERY GOOD IDEA TO TRAVEL ALONE AND TALK TO STRANGERS!

 
Eventually my stint at the southern printing mill ended (see PART ONE), and survival issues loomed once more. Funny (not ha-ha) how the fear component of mind is always waiting for the other shoe to drop, even though faith plus experience have shown repeatedly that rescue always arrives - frequently not a moment too soon.

On my last scheduled trip, I was honored to be asked to address a convention of The American Association of Textile Chemists and Colorists. So temporarily my thoughts were side tracked by preparing my talk.

AND DECIDING WHAT TO WEAR!

SO, WHEN AN AQUA SHANTUNG SUIT AND MATCHING STRAW HAT BECKONED FROM A FIFTH AVENUE BOUTIQUE, I SAID “YES, YOU ARE PERFECT!”; THOUGH IT BROKE THE BANK THE OUTFIT GAVE ME THE CONFIDENCE I NEEDED AS A NOVICE AT PUBLIC SPEAKING.

Finishing up a final printing assignment at around four AM, before going home the next day, I overheard a heated discussion between the night colorist Tom, whose job it was to match color standards for an important design, and his customer George, both at the end of their frazzled nerves.

Tom was trying to meet production timelines while inexperienced George insisted on using a mixture of red and blue for a particular flower and was frustrated because it turned a ghastly purple.

The clock was ticking so I asked if I could help. I requested that Tom substitute green for the red, then push the OK button full speed ahead without even taking the time to show George the result.

That design with the turquoise roses was such a hit that my next client was George’s company.

My new association continued profitably until the next business slump. Once again that
"ole debil" Survival raised its scary head.

By then I considered myself an old pro at this scenario. As I went to sleep I replaced thoughts of doom and disaster with gratitude that my children were safe and healthy – that I still had two hands and a fully functioning creative mind.

The next morning at 7:30, George called from Birmingham, AL, where a sales meeting had just concluded. My marching orders were to be at the NY office at 11 o'clock. A decision had been reached to plow ahead with a new print line!

 After hearing all the plans and receiving instructions, I asked for an advance in order to purchase art supplies.

I didn’t bother to mention that the advance would also buy some food.

ONCE AGAIN THE END RESULT JUSTIFIED MY FAITH...
OR
WAS IT THAT MY FAITH PRODUCED THE END RESULT?

 
This blog was supposed to be “LEAP, AND THE NET WILL APPEAR: PART TWO”.

But it’s long past midnight and I just finished the final page of the best selling book, and now a hit movie, “The Help”, a story written by a young white woman in Mississippi, dealing with the abuse endured by black maids at the hands of their white employers during the 1960's.

Tears surfaced in my eyes as I recalled old scenarios from my early life in segregated depression-ridden Kentucky.

So this will be a catharsis of sorts, to express and put to rest any lingering residue of past life experience.

My first nursemaid, Fanny Braxton, found nurturing in her heart for a little white baby girl, in addition to her own four daughters. 

Mother’s helper, Alease, threw a twelfth birthday party for me while my parents were traveling; having nothing of my own for such a gala occasion, I wore one of her dresses. Mother never knew.

Mother and her circle of Jewish housewives never sat down to a cup of coffee with the women who cared for their children. By this time I was aware that Jews were members of an oppressed tribe themselves. Having historically been victimized, what could justify their superior behavior?

Long after I moved to New York, in the 1940’s, Daddy, who was a gentle soft-spoken man, would walk out of a restaurant if a “colored” person walked in.
I was horrified!

Jews were still banned from his local country club, though his cronies played poker with him at the Elk’s club.

Go figure.

IN THE EARLY SIXTIES I HAD TO EXAMINE MY OWN PERSONAL PREDJUDICES.

 Being an avid jazz collector, I would wander into Sam Goody (the leading purveyor of records at that time) after work. There was this black salesperson who guided me to the best of the best – Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz, Duke Ellington, etc. He was knowledgeable, young, attractive and a part-time disc jockey – eventually suggesting that I might enjoy attending some live clubs with him. I was divorced and clearly interested, though not courageous enough to break the taboos of the day.  

A generation later, my daughter went overboard to shock her Jewish attorney father by only seeing men of color, jocks she would meet at the gym or karate class, who would accept her favors without once bringing a rose or bottle of wine. I would have been thrilled if her choice were green-skinned as long as he was good to her.

SO THE RACIAL PENDULUM IN OUR FAMILY HAS SWUNG TO BOTH EXTREMES AND IS FINALLY REACHING A CRITICAL MASS TOWARD BALANCE WORLDWIDE. MULTI - COLOR CULTURE IS NOT ONLY ACCEPTED, IT ENRICHES US ALL.

ANYONE FOR VANILLA?

 
In my handbag is usually a 6 x 6 black notebook & pen so that when and if inspiration strikes I can capture fleeting thoughts. Printed on the cover in white are the words “LEAP AND THE NET WILL APPEAR” with the notation that this is a Zen saying.

On the web the quote is attributed to John Burroughs (1837 – 1921). Mr. Burroughs may or may not have been a Buddhist, nor am I: in any event the phrase has become a personal motto because it applies to the way I have handled survival issues for most of my adult life. I have jumped into a seemingly non-existent safety net so often that there are too many examples for only one blog.

The time: early 1960’s. I am a single divorced mom of two at the end of my freelance financial rope – yes, being an independent textile designer is risky; still it’s preferable to a low-paying studio job without opportunity for advancement.

A company had just offered me an amazing opportunity to travel to a southern printing factory, taking on a lot of well-paid responsibility. I accepted immediately, though I didn't have a clue as to how I would obtain responsible live-in child care for an adolescent boy of 13 and 5 year old girl.

SO I PUT AN AD IN THE NY TIMES, PRAYED AND WAITED.

THE SECOND APPLICANT TO RING MY DOORBELL WAS A SMALL ROUNDED LADY WITH GRAY HAIR AND AN ITALIAN ACCENT. SHE HAD TAUGHT GIRLS IN A NAPLES NUNNERY AND LOVED TO COOK THE WAY MY KIDS LOVE TO EAT. HER NAME WAS MARIA – MARY TO US.

SINCE I HAD TO TRAVEL SO MUCH I DIDN’T NOTICE OR MIND THAT SHE DIDN’T GO OUT MUCH EXCEPT TO VISIT RELATIVES ON HER DAY OFF, OR WRITE LETTERS IN HER ROOM.

ONE DAY SHE ASKED FOR A LEAVE OF ABSENCE SO SHE COULD GO TO BARCELONA, MARRY HER LONG-TIME LOVE AND BRING HIM TO NEW YORK.

WE FOUND A TEMP AND SOON SHE RETURNED WITH JOSEPH IN TOW. THAT TINY ROOM BECAME THEIR HONEYMOON COTTAGE.

JOSEPH – WHO COULD DO ANYTHING QUICKLY FOUND EMPLOYMENT, PLUS HE DID FOR US WHATEVER MEN DO AROUND A HOUSE!

MARY AND JOSEPH BECAME SURROGATE GRANDPARENTS FOR 16 YEARS AT WHICH TIME THEY RETIRED AND BOUGHT A FLAT IN BARCELONA.

NOW THIS IS WEIRD – THE NAMES MARY AND JOSEPH – THEY WERE LITERALLY ANGELS, SAINTS, IN MY LIFE, PROVIDING SAFETY AND LOVE SO THAT I COULD KEEP A ROOF OVER OUR HEADS.

HAD I ALLOWED FEAR TO INFLUENCE MY DECISION TO MOVE FORWARD, A MAJOR OPPORTUNITY WOULD HAVE BEEN LOST.

I TRUSTED AND DIVINITY PROVIDED THE NET!

Have you watched So You Think You Can Dance or Dancing With The Stars on television?

Did you ever think of dancing – particularly partner (or ballroom) dancing as a metaphor for making choices in life?

When couples navigate across a crowded floor there a danger of collision which can result in injury not to mention anger.

Experienced dancers have learned the proper protocol, pivoting on a dime, to insure safety and smooth sailing for all.

WELL, LIFE’S KIND OF LIKE THAT.

AWARENESS AND FLEXIBILITY WILL NOT ONLY AVERT UNPLEASANTNESS, THEY MAY LEAD TO THE JOY THAT SPRINGS FROM UNPLANNED DETOURS!

CASE IN POINT:

Last week I didn’t post a blog because I was off having an adventure (for me, venturing forth has always opened doors leading to awesome, highly significant events.)  

I attended a workshop in Washington D.C. exploring a problem solving process called Ho’oponopono. This is an ancient Hawaiian healing process currently being taught worldwide in a modernized form by Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len.

I decided to avoid the chaos of airports and take the scenic route from NY by bus. It’s also a quarter of the price of Amtrak.

After a mind-blowing weekend meeting and greeting like-minded travelers (physically, mentally and spiritually), I planned to return home leaving Washington Monday at 10 AM.

I got up early and had a substantial breakfast in preparation for the four and a half hour trip. My bags were packed and I was about to leave my room when my tummy rejected my breakfast, forcing a rescheduling at 5:15 PM.

My checkout was extended to 3 PM so after I felt better I headed for Union Station, a most magnificent edifice where one can easily pass time admiring the architecture and a galaxy of shops.

OMG!!!

 A boutique called Heydari beckoned to my inner child who is a compulsive shopper when drawn to whatever belongs to her UNIQUEU. Incidentally, Heydari is owned by a local lady who designs everything herself using fabrics from everywhere and manufacturing only in the USA.

Well, a larger than life saleslady – Sister Monica (an ordained minister no less) adopted me to the extent that I almost missed the second bus. But not to worry, SM handled everything, providing crackers, cheese, fruit and water to sustain me and even suggesting that I might want to use the bathroom before leaving.

Then she took charge of all luggage and packages and we sprinted to the bus in the nick of time!

SO MY INNER CHILD MADE ME MISS THE MORNING BUS, PIVOTED ON A DIME, GOT HERSELF SOME NEW THREADS, AND MADE SOME GREAT NEW FRIENDS.

AND A DEAR FRIEND WHO WAS TAKING CARE OF MY CAT MUFFIE, NOT ONLY COVERED HER DINNER MONDAY NITE; SHE EVEN HAD MINE WAITING IN THE FRIDGE!

* LET GO AND LET GOD *

HAVE YOU EVER SEARCHED HIGH AND LOW ONLY TO DISCOVER YOUR EYEGLASSES WERE PERCHED ON YOUR HEAD OR YOUR KEYS IN YOUR POCKET?

Adam and Eve also faced confusion and frustration outside Eden, even though God had created them in His own Image and from His own Substance.

Though He gave clear guidelines, humans frequently ignore answers to their questions that are either in front of their eyes or, at the most, require some research.

Perhaps intended as the earliest game of Hide and Seek, He placed their spark of Divinity in the place they would be least likely to look when seeking answers to the questions of life - “in the secret place of the Most High” - within the deepest recesses of their souls.

God, loving a good mystery, sometimes places clues in language.

MANY WORDS CAN BE MINED (IN YOUR MIND) FOR PURE GOLD IN THEIR CONTENT - REVEALING RICHES REACHING FAR BEYOND AND BENEATH THEIR SURFACE MEANING.

Let’s consider a sample of common words that, upon easy dissection, teach their more comprehensive connotations:

IDENTITY   =   I – DEITY

When searching for one’s truest characterization - beyond the information recorded on birth certificates, school records, achievements or other personal history, consider the Source. Within our earthly identity is our Truth – we are co-creators with our Creator!

ACCORDANCE   =   ACCOR – DANCE

We are instructed to dance in accord with the music of the spheres – in harmony with the universe!

UNIVERSE   =   UNI – VERSE

I wrote about this one in another blog; it’s worth repeating: Literally One Song!

PRAISE   =   P – RAISE

"Lift UP thine eyes”  Seek a Higher Viewpoint!

HEART   =   HE/HEAR/EAR/ARE/ART

Let those who have ears hear beauty – with their hearts!

RELEASE   =   RE – LEASE

Free old holds and commitments to outmoded useless concepts in favor of those that arise newly from inspiration! 

WONDERFUL   =   WONDER – FUL

Full of Wonders!

SINCE ENGLISH IS THE ONLY LANGUAGE IN WHICH I AM TRAINED, I WOULD BE INTERESTED TO KNOW IF THERE ARE MEANINGFUL WORDS ENCLOSED IN THE WORDS OF OTHER LANGUAGES

IF YOU ARE MULTI-LINGUAL CAN YOU SHED AND SHARE YOUR INSIGHT ON THIS SUBJECT?

SEEK AND YE SHALL FIND!

Every generation has always been convinced of the superiority of the popular music and dances of their time, particularly that of their coming-of-age years, which always reflect the state of the social milieu of the day.

Couples of the Roaring Twenties did the Charleston to the tune of “Anything Goes”, acting out the new-found liberation of women from corsets, hairpins and abstinence.

Guys wore post World War II zoot suits doing the “Lindy Hop”, partnering their bobby-soxed  girlfriends to “Sing, Sing, Sing” celebrating freedom from wartime restrictions.

Elvis Presley ushered in a period of gyrating joy, cautioning fellow dancers to stay clear of his “Blue Suede Shoes”, perhaps signifying a decline in partner dancing.

PRE-TWENTIETH CENTURY DANCING ETIQUETTE ASSURED THAT ONLY THE CONTACT OF HANDS, EXCEPT FOR A GUY’S HAND TOUCHING A GIRL’S WAIST, SHOWED OUTWARD RESPECT FOR THE SANCTITY OF HOLY WEDLOCK.

FRED AND GINGER GLORIFIED THE BEAUTY AND HARMONY OF RELATIONSHIP, A COOPERATIVE EXPERIENCE WHERE, THOUGH THE MAN IS “LEADING”, BOTH ARE SENSITIVE TO THE OTHER, RESPONDING TO THE RHYTHM AND MOVEMENT OF THE MOOD AND THE MUSIC.

THEIR PERFORMANCES HAVE GOT TO BE THE ULTIMATE DEFINATION OF ROMANCE IN MOTION!

IN CONTRAST, TODAY’S RAVES ARE TOTALLY ISOLATING, WITHOUT A SINGLE CONNECTION BEYOND SHARING
INDIVIDUAL ECSTASY ON A CROWDED FLOOR.

IS THAT THE POINT?

AS I MUSE AND WRITE ABOUT “ALONE TOGETHER”, I AM WONDERING IF CONTACT ON THE DANCE FLOOR, THE BEAT OF THE MUSIC AND ALSO THE THOUGHTS CONVEYED BY THE LYRICS ARE DIRECTLY RELATED TO THE DEGREE OF INTIMACY BETWEEN INDIVIDUALS AS SOCIETY MOVES FROM COMMUNAL VALUES TO INCREASED ISOLATION AND ALIENATION.

HOW ABOUT ALONE AND TOGETHER?

THE BALANCING OF POLARITIES WOULD HAMMER THE FINAL NAIL INTO THE COFFIN OF STEREOTYPED GENDER BEHAVIOR.

IF YOU BUY INTO THE POSSIBILITY THAT, AS OUR SOUL JOURNEYS, IT PLAYS MANY ROLES AS REQUIRED FOR THE LEARNING OF LIFE’S LESSONS, WE CAN BECOME PLAYERS IN A GIANT REPERATORY THEATRE COMPANY, LEARNING BY HEART THE PART OF EACH CHARACTER WE ARE ASSIGNED TO PORTRAY.

LET’S FACE THE MUSIC AND DANCE!

 
Like everything else in the physical world, the question posed is a paradox.

If you enjoy exploratory debate without a black or white resolution, play along, knowing that all of existence is open to inquiry.

RIGHT OR WRONG IS BESIDE THE POINT.

So that I wouldn’t be seduced by my own opinion, to which I admit: GUILTY AS CHARGED, I called upon another generation, my daughter, who is not shy about voicing her viewpoint.

She is, after all, the product of a lawyer and a metaphysician.

At Carol’s insistence, I joined Facebook after returning from a cruise to Alaska, where all 1400 passengers, between ports, were enrolled in their choice of self-improvement workshops. I agreed that this sounded like a fun way to keep in touch with new friends.

As I followed the postings of my fellow social networkers the primary information interchanged appeared to be of a superficial nature. Since I like to connect on a level beyond chit-chat and have never been in a chat room, I turned to Carol for clarification. A summary of our talk follows:

IT’S A GENERATIONAL THING!

For us relics, who grew up on radio and penmanship, it’s a stretch to enter the sci-fi world of instant and ever-changing technology.

Many refuse to venture beyond owning a cell phone and HD TV.

(My significant other was exceptional, buying and avidly mastering each new toy as it appeared, passing the old model on to me, along with instruction.)

The offspring of these parents - more or less - the boomer babies – began their education traditionally; then, whether motivated by necessity or inclination, joined the revolution.

(Their advantage is that they received, in varying degrees, and admittedly for better or worse, more exposure to one-on-one personal contact and values.)

Today’s infants emerge from the womb, clutching smart phones in their tiny fists.

They cannot be bothered with time consuming language, texting abbreviations and symbols in a sort of hieroglyphic shorthand, understood mostly by the initiated.

Instead of emotional connection there seems to be deliberate separation, an intentional non-involvement with humanity.

 ON YOUTUBE TODAY I SAW A VIDEO OF A 3D COPYING DEVICE THAT APPARENTLY PRODUCED A TANGIBLE REPLICA OF A WRENCH IDENTICAL TO THE ORIGINAL!

SKYPE OFFERS A FACE IN ADDITION TO A VOICE.

WILL THEY NEXT ADD A SOUL? 

 
A youthful friend of mine who has reached her fifties has endured liposuction and breast reduction in her quest for body perfection, though she is a runner, a black belt, and has always been a fitness buff. She says:

I like myself in clothes but I hate my body naked.

A seventy-something friend wonders:

Where did my waistline go?

Another friend, a former model, compresses her still lovely, yet changing, body and boobs into a prison of punishing undergarments and applies her make-up with an airbrush.

Even Maya Angelou at seventy joked about which of her breasts would reach her waist first.

Moi? I am very grateful that I had a really cute figure when I needed one.

This week I watched an HBO documentary from 2009 that triggered these comments, called “Youth Knows No Pain”, exploring our grasp at anything and everything, regardless of discomfort or expense that promises to magically correct nature’s perceived mistakes and/or turn back the clock.

This issue extends far beyond vanity, career concerns, accidents / birth disfigurements / illnesses or belief that there are time limitations for accomplishing goals.

The film was produced by Mitch McCabe, daughter of a prominent plastic surgeon. He died when she was twenty-seven. Interestingly, her own prejudice against his profession shifted as she researched his files, travelling for two years interviewing doctors, experts and patients, male and female, from age 18 to 93.

She is eventually seen examining her own thirtyish face, questioning her initial opposition to the procedures.

DID GOD DELIBERATELY DESIGN OUR PHYSICAL VEHICLE WITH FATAL FLAWS?

Are certain physical challenges, including aging, meant to necessitate development of unexplored qualities and abilities?

Is our seemingly hard-wired need for self-esteem so connected to self image that no sacrifice is too great to gain acceptance, understanding and love?

Who are we to judge ourselves, let alone others, when we all cope with human frustration?

IT WOULD SEEM THAT ANY RELIEF, NO MATTER HOW ILLUSIONARY, TEMPORARY OR EXPENSIVE IS JUSTIFIED IF IT PROVIDES EVEN A GLIMPSE INTO A POSITIVE MIRROR OF THE SOUL, A REFLECTION OF OUR CREATOR’S DIVINE INTENTION AND A GLIMMERING OF HOPE THAT ONE IS ULTIMATELY WORTHY OF EXISTANCE.

WHO IS, INDEED, FAIREST OF US ALL?

First of all, be very wary of the word “but”.

WHATEVER THOUGHT CAME BEFORE THE WORD “BUT’ IS VOID OF MEANING
SINCE “BUT” AUTOMATICALLY HITS THE DELETE BUTTON.

WHATEVER COMES AFTER “BUT” REVEALS A MORE ACCURATE STATEMENT.

People will ALWAYS tell the truth about themselves. In any discussion, both parties filter “facts” through their own agendas and/or conditioning,
hearing what they want to hear.

REMEMBER THAT GOD GAVE US TWO EARS AND ONE MOUTH,
TO BE USED IN THAT PROPORTION. 

EYE CANDY

When the task is to arrange flowers, furniture and decorative objects or choose accessories, think asymmetrically.

 Two roses in a vase require a third to break the monotony of balance; this is sometimes true of people.

 Unless a single bracelet is a knockout, an armful is more fun. Also sometimes true of people.

Pictures and pillows don’t like to be lined up like soldiers. Neither do people.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

SCIENTISTS FINALLY FIGURED OUT WHAT SAGES, PROPHETS AND WISE GRANDPARENTS HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN:

We are all created of the same stuff.

Perpetrate bad stuff and it boomerangs right back atcha.

No one, including Mother Nature, repeats an action unless there is a payoff - conscious or not.

TURNAROUNDS

 ALWAYS DO WHAT YOU ALWAYS DID AND YOU’LL ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU ALWAYS GOT.
BREAK THE MOLD.

Get out of bed on the opposite side.

Use your best china when you dine alone.

Occasionally have dessert first.

WANT INSIGHT INTO A DILEMMA?

Write a description of the problem/question with your dominant hand; use a large sheet of paper.

Then answer yourself using your non-dominant hand. Do not think. Just write.

Prepare to be amazed!

CONSIDER THE PLIGHT OF THE OYSTER:

Day in, day out, nothing but that irritating sand! No rest for the weary! It itches where it can’t scratch!

THEN ONE DAY - PRESTO - A PEARL!!!

WE ALL REFLECT MICRO FACETS OF THIS UNIVERSAL HOLOGRAM WE CALL HOME.

THE UNIVERSE LITERALLY MEANS
ONE SONG

LET’S SING A SYMPHONY!