Zen Inspiration

Being a very distractible person, I fail to make the best of situations. I get angry and frustrated with my kid. I sometimes feel overwhelmed by small tasks. I stress and worry and wonder why I can't get on top of things.

Since my freshman year of college, I have found peacefulness and calm in Zen practices. Buddhism, though widely considered a "religion," is more about habits than beliefs. It's about the way you train yourself to think and to act. I don't claim to be Buddhist, but I do turn to Buddhism when I am feeling crazy.

Some sources for peace and calm:

Sylvia Boorstein
I heard her on the American Public Media program "Being" on Mother's Day morning, and the timing was perfect. Her outlook on being a mother and being a Buddhist (or in her case, a Jewish Buddhist) made me reflect on my own parenting. One of the most notable things that she said on the program was that everyone has time to cultivate their spiritual side. Even if you're a busy, working mother, it's about doing things lovingly. Even folding the laundry lovingly can be a spiritual practice. She's written tons of books: I downloaded the first chapter of Pay Attention, for Goodness' Sake on my Kindle and plan to download the rest when my class is over. I would love to attend one of her retreats. http://www.sylviaboorstein.com/

The Dalai Lama
I read My Land and My People in college, and now I follow him on Twitter. Seriously. There's something wonderful about receiving a little glimpse of the sublime in between all the goofy stuff.

Yoga
I did yoga when I was pregnant with Jack. Getting ready to start it up again. "Strong mind, strong body."  Jack likes to watch my yoga DVD with me and stretch with "the girls on t.v."

"Lessons from a Zen Mommy."
I just read this in the August 2011 issue of Parents' Magazine. I wish I could link to it, but they don't digitize their entire issue. It's written by Bethany Saltman, a Zen Buddhist and mother of a three-year-old, and she's the real deal: before becoming parents, she and her husband lived in a monastery. She translates traditional Buddhist teachings into "mom" lessons, such as: stop multitasking; take responsibility for yourself and your mess, and teach your child to do the same; limit acquiring too much stuff; don't beat yourself up over things; develop rituals; count your blessings; remember to breathe.

Stephen Batchelor
A Religion Panel in my Honors Program at Clarke College brought me into contact with a woman who was Zen Buddhist. She described Buddhism to me for the first time, in a way that calmed me and made me feel hopeful and joyful in a very depressing year of my life. After listening to her speak, I bought Buddhism Without Beliefs and Verses from the Center by Stephen Batchelor, and these volumes became my crash-course in Buddhism. Admittedly, it has been a long time since I've read them, but I think they are ready to be dusted off.

Keeping track

In the very first class I took for my grad program, my professor recommended that we all keep a notebook where we record the titles and details about books we've read. I started to do that the following summer, which is now four years ago. Then came baby. And more grad classes. And four years' worth of papers to grade. And moving. And all that stuff. 

That notebook, in which I took careful notes about the seventh Harry Potter book as well as C. S. Lewis' Mere Christianity and Screwtape Letters, Ishmael Beah's A Long Way Gone, and Anne LaMott's Grace (Eventually), gradually faded into obscurity only to be resurrected last summer as a grad-school notebook for my Dickens class. (Interestingly, it started life as an ill-fated workout notebook, where I kept track of how much I lifted and what settings I put the machines on and number of reps at Powerhouse Gym in Morris, IL the summer before I got married.) It's now, sadly, tattered and full of boring notes about Pickwick Papers. 

But who am I kidding? I don't have time anymore to write full-page summaries of every book that I read, including my evaluations, number of stars, and important quotes. It's impressive enough, these days, to read a non-school book beginning to end, though I've done a better job of that this summer than I have in recent years.

So, if only to remind myself (and my "mom-brain") what I've read lately and why, here's a breakdown (roughly in the order I read them) for 2011 (not including YA novels, because those take like 2 seconds to read and I totally don't digest them):

1. The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell
2. White Noise by Don DeLillo
3. Enormous Changes at the Last Minute by Grace Paley
4. American Tabloid by James Ellroy
5. Ma Rainey's Black Bottom by August Wilson
6. Babel-17 by Samuel Delaney
7. Stuck Rubber Baby by Howard Cruse
8. Reservation Blues by Sherman Alexie
9. Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides
10. Bastard out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison
11. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
12. Freedom by Jonathan Franzen
13. The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown
14. The Story of Avis by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps
15. Austenland by Shannon Hale
16. Sisterhood Everlasting by Ann Brashares
17. Daisy Miller by Henry James
18. Maggie, a Girl of the Streets by Stephen Crane
19. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
20. The Rise of Silas Lapham by William Dean Howells

Books I've re-read:

1. The Awakening by Kate Chopin
2. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
3. The Marrow of Tradition by Charles Chestnutt

Requiem for Borders

I did not intend to make one last trek to Borders, though I've been following the news the last several weeks and was saddened but not surprised that many of its stores would be closing. What need have I for Borders? I am always up to my ears in reading for grad school; I have a million books at home I haven't read yet; I have a local, independent bookstore that I love; I have Amazon for deals; I have a Kindle. Why visit Borders yet again, even for 10-40% off every item in the store? Borders is redundant.

As I drove to Target tonight for a two-year-old's birthday gift, though, I passed the Borders sign and wondered. Bargain-priced gifts, not just another Mattel toy from a big box store, danced in my head. I turned in at the next entrance and selected a Melissa and Doug wooden dress-up doll for 20% off.

That should have been it. I could have cruised to the checkout and left. But instead, as I too-carefully selected a 40%-off birthday card, I was entranced by any number of lovely, tempting items. A box the shape of the Eiffel tower. Bookends that look like globes and suspension bridges. Elaborate, felt-and-sequin bedecked cards that retail for $10 apiece. A hardcover copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance with a fetching green dust jacket. Chocolates. Board games. Word games. A "Hop on Pop" floor puzzle.

It's no coincidence that very few of these items are books. That was the error in my logic. Borders isn't my favorite brick-and-mortar chain bookstore over Barnes and Noble for no reason. If it were completely redundant, I would have no reason to prefer it or have an opinion at all. But it's the tremendous amount of slightly nerdy, overpriced crap that draws me in. I have no need for anything I listed above, or anything else in the store, quite honestly. But I very nearly went right back in after I'd paid (for the Melissa and Doug doll, three cards, and a tube of Burt's Bees hand lotion) because on the way out the door, I was momentarily shanghaied. There's something heady about the idea that only $19.99 stands between you and The Complete Yoga Kit, or between you and copy of The Complete History of the World with a cover 18 inches high.

I think it's the completeness of the crap that beckons me. As my professor said tonight at grad class, "Everything contains its opposite." If I am drawn to The Complete Whatever, it's because it suggests to me that I am incomplete. I am not a yoga master. I do not know everything about the history of the world. That these things, and more, become possible as you wander every overpopulated nook and cranny of a Borders store, I think, is the draw. Books are beside the point.

Spain

Hard to believe I will be here in about a month. Can't wait to hug my brother, drink Spanish wine, stay in a villa, and tour the Alhambra. Also can't wait to escape the bitter cold of the American midwest in favor of the Mediterranean coast. Feeling like I should be studying Spanish (in what spare time?), but suppose I will rely on my brother for translation as needed. Starting to count down the days. (35 as of today!)

Grace Paley

At the first meeting of my new class, "American Literature since 1960," we read "A Conversation with my Father" by Grace Paley. Oh my goodness! Her prose is so spare, so compact, so forthright, so clear, yet so dense that a group of graduate students continued uncovering meaning for a solid hour. From a four-page story. I went the following week and used my birthday money to buy her short-story collection "Enormous Changes at the Last Minute." Hello, new friend.

How should we train teachers?

One of the most interesting questions. This hearkens back to my favorite Malcolm Gladwell piece (see "Tenure" post from August). There's a whole series on Marketplace, including interactive features. But I'm old-school. Here's the transcript of what I heard on the radio Thursday night.

http://marketplace.publicradio.org/display/web/2010/11/18/pm-improving-lousianas-schools-starting-with-teachers/

Classroom Design

The winner of Slate's classroom design contest has been announced. Brain too tired to comment.

Currently reading volume one of the new Mark Twain autobiography. It's taking a long time just to get through the front material. But it's interesting front material, at least.