This has been a marital topic in our house for years, actually, ever since we met! Jim and I each have a penchant for being right. Over time, we’ve learned to recognize it earlier in the “discussion” and can even make a joke about it, but being right still comes up. Just last week, we were coming home from Yosemite and noticed that we started to defend our differing ideas about when the road stops following the river and takes off uphill – as if that matters in the grand scheme of things! Of course, it mattered to the engineers and laborers who built the road and nowadays it matters to bicyclists and motorists who are about to run out of gas, but to Jim and Jacquie, it only mattered as a test of observation and memory.

What’s the importance of these little skirmishes about being right? Back when friends and family told us that they were uncomfortable hearing us grappling for position, I started to investigate the origin of our attitudes. As we engaged rather trivial differing points of view, each of us had an inner feeling as though winning the point was a matter of life and death. What a lot of energy to expend on the name of the last movie we saw or when we took a specific trip. Being right is necessary when you’re doing brain surgery or landing a plane, but being right about the fastest or easiest way to complete a task is downright silly!

Last night I got a big clue to our inner workings and here I am at 3AM writing about it. It’s very exciting to finally understand. Thank you, Oprah and Eckhart Tolle, for the webinar you have produced. (You can watch it free on www.oprah.com.) Here’s what I learned in the second session: many people define themselves by roles, skills, or characteristics. “I’m a teacher.” “I’m a happy person.” “I’m intellectual.” “I’m smart” “I’m accurate.” I’m an arthritic.” “I’m cute.” When anything changes our definition of ourselves, we feel like a part of us has been taken away. So if I think of myself as accurate and I make a mistake, it feels like life or death. If I define myself by my career and I lose my job, it’s like my arm was cut off. That definitely was a light-bulb moment!

In my earlier writing about this, I’ve quoted Gay Hendricks, who said, “You can be right, or you can be loved.” This is certainly true if being right makes someone else wrong. Jim and I don’t get into our discussions in order to make the other person wrong. That’s probably why we’ve been able to stay together for 30 years! We aren’t saying that the other person is stupid or anything negative. Well, OK, maybe we think, “Why is s/he so stubborn? Why doesn’t s/he just give up and say I’m right?” We don’t give up because we are struggling to keep our identities. He perceives himself as having a great memory; I perceive myself as being accurate.

Now that I know that, what can I do? Maybe just stopping thinking of me as being accurate is all that I need to do. Hey, I’m only on Session 2 of the New World Webinar, there’s still much to learn. Who am I? I’m not some external characteristic; I am my essence, my soul, if you will. It’s unlikely that my soul would be damaged if I make a mistake. I suspect my soul might be damaged if I don’t forgive myself for making a mistake, but that’s another article!

©2008, Jacqueline Hale

 

We were lucky to see many schools because Global Partners, the NGO (non-government organization) that coordinated our trip is involved in schools and scholarships in East Africa. Many things amazed me during these visits: the lack of books, classes with 100 students, no electricity, and in some cases, no walls or roof. The enthusiasm of the kids and the devotion of the teachers are impressive when there are virtually no supplies and, occasionally, no food! Oh my. I constantly wondered, “What can I do?” It’s a daunting prospect for an organization with a staff and thousands of dollars. What can I, an individual, do to make a difference?

A few schools have a computer or two. One school had a whole room full of computers. They even had electricity to use them! What they didn’t have was the knowledge of how to use them. Imagine that you’ve never seen a computer before. How would you know what it could do? These days, when you get a computer, the only instruction you get is a manual that tells you how to plug in the components and turn it on. Then what? That’s why the computers at Kimnyak Secondary School sit unused in the “computer lab.”

Well, there’s something I can do. At one time, I wrote user manuals and tutorials for computers and software. I even wrote about computers way back when they were unusual to have, so I have experience explaining tasks that computers can do. Since I got home from Africa, I’ve been writing a tutorial for those languishing computers. That’s the easy part.

The dilemma is what to do with the tutorial once I’ve written it. How do I get it to the schools that need it? If I send it electronically, would they be able to print it? Will they have paper to print it on? Is there a central resource for teachers in each city that distributes teacher materials? I did get the names of two teachers who asked for help. Maybe I’ll collaborate with them to refine the materials and then decide how to set up a wide distribution. As you can see, even having something to contribute doesn’t mean it will help. Certainly an individual needs support. That’s why I am working with Global Partners. They have resources and connections in Tanzania, Kenya, and Uganda.

Do you want to help with any of the projects I’ve described so far? You can send a check or use PayPal for a credit card donation. Send a check to Global Partners and mark it for “Jacquie Hale’s Fund.” Such a donation gives me permission to determine how the money is used for Global Partners’ projects and/or my new projects. If you want to use PayPal, go to www.GPFD.org and click Give/Donate. Once the PayPal page appears, you can leave a memo for my fund. Blessings on your generosity!

I’ve found that many people want to help and simply don’t know how, so here’s your chance!

© 2008, Jacqueline Hale

Discarded water bottles! We saw them everywhere. Our group personally emptied nearly a thousand while we were in Tanzania for two weeks. What was happening to all those bottles? Nothing. The resort burned them. Ick! They didn’t even know that the smoke was toxic. We saw them strewn along the roadsides and in gullies everywhere.

I resolved to figure out how these ubiquitous bottles could be turned into building materials. One idea I had was to cut them up on one side, spread them out, and overlap them like roofing tiles. That may still be a good idea, especially for people who are trying to keep the rain out with tattered plastic bags and old rags. In my research to find a simple use for plastic bottles, I discovered that water can be purified in them. The picture above shows an elaborate system for exposing the water to the sun’s UV rays and warmth. In Tanzania, the bottles could simply be laid on a black plastic bag because near the equator, the sun is overhead all year long.

In countries where water-borne diseases are a significant cause of discomfort, disease, and death, a low-tech method of purifying the water would make a huge difference. This sun method doesn’t remove naturally occurring chemicals or industrial pollutants, but it can change the lives of people who have few resources. Currently, the only method millions of people have for killing pathogens in their water is to boil it. That means not only carrying the water, but also carrying the wood (if there is any) and building a fire. I wonder how many people, when faced with such daunting problems just drink the water untreated?

All it takes is a stash of 10 bottles, a black plastic bag, and a sunny day. The process even works on a cloudy day, it just takes longer. I have been captivated with this idea and have set about finding a way to bring this low-tech solution to people who need it desperately. This is one of the projects that followed me home from Africa and I am committed to follow through with it. I’m still working out the how-to aspect, but I thought I’d share my excitement with you and let you know that you can help make a difference with this or any of my other projects.

You can send a check or use PayPal for a credit card donation. Send a check to Global Partners and mark it for “Jacquie Hale’s Fund.” Such a donation gives me permission to determine how the money is used for Global Partners’ projects and/or new projects, which I’ll be describing in future articles. If you want to use PayPal, go to www.GPFD.org and click Give/Donate. Once the PayPal page appears, you can leave a memo for my fund. Blessings on your generosity!

I am creating other reports about projects you might want to support. I have qualms about sending this appeal because I don’t want my subscribers to feel I’m exploiting them. I’ve found that many people want to help and simply don’t know how, so here’s your chance!

© 2008, Jacqueline Hale

Vincent is a waiter at a resort in Arusha, Tanzania. This picture shows him with three of the ten orphans he adopted when their parents died from HIV. That’s their home in the background. This isn’t an unusual home in Tanzania. Vincent has taken on not only the well-being of the children, but also the cost of their secondary education ($500/year), as well as the education of his own children. A typical salary in Tanzania is $1/day, but he probably makes more because he gets tips. Mostly, he relies on the donations of friends and guests at the resort to support both of his families.

I’ll be creating other reports about projects you might want to support. I have qualms about sending this appeal because I don’t want my subscribers to feel I’m exploiting them. But as a good friend of mine often says, “If you don’t ask, the answer is ALWAYS no”. I’ve found that many people want to help and simply don’t know how, so here’s your chance:

You can send a check or use PayPal for a credit card donation. Send a check to Global Partners and mark it for “Jacquie Hale’s Fund.” Such a donation gives me permission to determine how the money is used for Global Partners’ projects and/or new projects, which I’ll be describing in future articles. If you want to use PayPal, go to www.GPFD.org  and click Give/Donate. Once the PayPal page appears, you can leave a memo for my fund. Blessings on your generosity!

Before I left for East Africa, I couldn’t imagine what I would do when I came home. Now that I’m home, I still don’t know because there’s so much I could do! People always say that visiting Africa changes your life. For me, it broadened my perspective of the world, as if I added a room to my brain – or maybe a whole building, or even a stadium. I learned more in two weeks than I have learned in years. It was the trip of a lifetime!

What influenced me most? It could be how happy Tanzanians are even when ten people live in a one room house with its roof of tattered plastic bags. Or it might be how one high school student in science could answer any question I asked even though the 70 students sat two to a desk with no books, and only a few scraps of paper and stubs of pencils.

Another compelling observation was how the Masai people hold on to their traditions while also making changes that bring them into alignment with current human rights concepts. This means that while the boys still herd cattle, they can also go to school. The fathers are beginning to allow their daughters to go to school rather than requiring them to marry in order to get the bride price of a few cows. During the Leadership Workshop I co-led for 20 motivated girls in the Global Partners Scholarship program, we heard a lot of talk about how women can improve their own lives and the future of their villages and their country. This important aspect of modern life is not lost on the girls in secondary school.

One of my most amazing encounters was with Janeth Daniel. She was one of the girls in our Leadership Workshop who chose a project of informing fellow students of how to avoid getting pregnant. Girls who get pregnant are expelled from school. In addition, HIV has taken a horrific toll on the whole country and Janeth is determined to do something about it. Even though sex education is not taught in school, she had gathered correct information and wanted to inform her sisters. This was not because she needed to be informed personally; she’s never had a boyfriend, and she’s committed to completing her education without male influence. Janeth’s plan is to tell the headmaster of her project and give him an outline of the information she wants to deliver. Imagine doing that when you were 17 years old! Sex was a taboo subject five years ago and adults currently don’t know what to say, so they don’t say anything. Not this young woman! She took advantage of my education and background to confirm her knowledge so that she didn’t give any misleading or incorrect information. She said that if her project is successful in the school, she’ll take it to her village where women need family planning info and have no place to get it. 

Men’s recognition of women’s abilities and contributions is something new in East Africa. The women create businesses that demonstrate the value of commerce over subservience. The mission of Global Partners, the organization Jim and I travelled with, is to promote partnerships that empower the people (men and women) to raise their living and health standards and create sustainable livelihood. We definitely saw this in action through schools, water projects, clinics, and animal husbandry.

More than anything, I was touched by the beauty of Tanzania. From the smiles and songs of the people to the lions, cheetahs and giraffes, we saw beauty every day. Two mountains, Meru and Kilimanjaro, are silent sentinels overseeing a country that is peaceful in the midst of countries engaged in internal conflict. The contrast between the breathlessly primitive life style and the struggling attempt to be modern is fear-inducing and awe-inspiring. I fear their traditions will be lost and I am inspired by their determination to improve. I am so blessed to have been in this country for even the few days we visited and I hope that more people can benefit from similar ecotourism.

© 2008, Jacqueline Hale

I’m in the midst of a moral dilemma. We’re leaving for Africa in two weeks and I’ve had a recurring, nagging thought from the very first time I entertained the idea of going to Africa. I’ve resisted a lifelong longing to go to Africa. I’ve wanted to see the wildlife, but more than that, I’ve wanted to get to know Africans, especially Africans living in villages. I want to see how people live a simpler life than I do. For years, Jim and I have sent money to East African partnership projects through Global Partners for Development (www.gpfd.org), and it’s knowledge I’ve gained from contributing through them that exacerbates my moral dilemma.

You see, I know that the price of this trip would provide many needed services for the African people. At the same time, I hear from everyone I’ve talked to who has taken this trip that I will be changed in Africa. Hmmm. Which is more important, my life being changed or providing clean water for hundreds of people, giving them better health and freeing them from daily, hours-long walks where lions roam? Which is more important, providing the materials needed for sustainable income or providing life-changing experiences for two people from Berkeley, California?

I’ve avoided going on one of these trips for years, and only agreed to go last summer when one of the leaders who has created scholarships for girls asked me to co-lead a project for girls who are finishing school and returning to their community to begin life as an adult. Here was an opportunity to give rather than gawk. And yet, the dilemma still nags me. I wonder, even at this late date, if the exchange is equitable. Will my life be changed enough to warrant spending so much money?

I don’t feel the exchange of value has to be exactly reciprocal. In other words, if being in Africa makes me a different person (and I assume “different” means better) I don’t necessarily have to apply the better me to East Africa. I am a citizen of the world and any way I can be a better person makes the world a better place.

Since my plans have continued to evolve, even after the unrest in Kenya, it looks like I trust myself in making this decision. Basically, I feel this is the right thing to do and I am trusting my instinct that the better me and my leadership with the girls will offset the money we will use for our trip. I am sorry we have had to cancel one of our workshops and are spending our entire trip in Tanzania rather than risk the turmoil in Kenya. Hearing of the hundreds of displaced people one of our partners is working with makes this an even more poignant question. Surely, you’ll hear more about this when we return in mid-February. In the meanwhile, hold well-being for all people in your hearts.

© 2008, Jacqueline Hale

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My sister-in-law and I were remembering Christmas at my mom’s house and noted how Christmas has never been quite the same since that tradition ended. We had a month of preparations, cooking and baking, buying and wrapping presents, and making endless phone calls and lists. On Christmas Eve, we’d bundle the kids in the back, hide the presents from Santa in the trunk, and travel through snow (even blizzards) to get to “Grandma’s house.” It was magical.

The real Christmas ended when my mother died. Our families moved away and we began emulating the Christmas traditions in our own homes. That worked pretty well until our kids grew up and they moved away, too. Last week, Judy and I admitted that we’re kind of sad at Christmas. There’s a longing to have the Christmas of the snowy woods, complete with sleigh bells, and there isn’t any way to make that happen anymore. This feeling may have something to do with our not living where it snows, but I think it’s more a symptom of the dispersal of family. Our kids all live in different states. I’m the lucky one because Penny lives here in Berkeley. But the whole family simply doesn’t get together very often, especially not for Christmas.

Actually, when my girls were tykes, I remember thinking “Just once, I’d like to have Christmas in my own home.” Little did I know how soon that would happen, and how every year I would long for what I had for my first 30 years. Judy said she makes a choice to be happy. I do that too, but I wish it was more natural. We confronted the emotional fixer-upper; Christmas, like a well-worn home, needed an update. Here are a few traditions I’ve created:

·         Sometime in early December, Penny and I host a cookie and candy-making day for friends. Everyone gets to take home tins of goodies to use for their own celebrations.

·         We’ve foregone the traditional Christmas tree because I finally figured out that I am allergic to fir trees. A positive aspect of this is that I don’t go through my box of ornaments and get all nostalgic and sad remembering how things used to be. Instead, I have lots of poinsettias, cyclamens, and paper whites to create a completely different look.

·         Jim and I host a Christmas Eve Open House. Since many of our friends are singers and Christmas Eve gigs happen at various times, having an open house allows people to come and go as their plans dictate and gives me a sense of tradition inspired by the spread Mom used to create. I even include some of her favorites, like meatballs, caramels, and snowballs.

Since I love snow and since we are fortunate enough to have a house in the mountains where it snows , and since many of our friends have time off between Christmas and the New Year, we have a Snow Play House Party that lasts a whole week. This week in the snow is a tradition that pulls me forward and keeps me out of the blues. The holiday remodel isn’t Christmas at Grandma’s house, but it is definitely a great way to ring out the old and ring in the new year!

© 2007, Jacqueline Hale

My family is a stoic one. I don’t think I ever saw a tear or heard even a sniffle. It’s taken years, but I’ve broken out of that pattern somewhat. That said, other than the immense emotions I expressed during the breakup of my family at the end of my first marriage, I’ve been fairly reserved.

Not so yesterday. Yesterday, our wonderful, but elderly dog died. She was perfectly energetic the day before, so I wasn’t ready for her quick descent into frailty. I had noticed signs of her aging and had told myself that 13 was “getting up there.” I just didn’t know that yesterday was going to be The Day. Charlie died on Thursday, November 29.

I was fairly stoic at the vet’s crying several times, hugging and holding on to Jim who was also deeply moved by the death of our long time companion. As we were returning home, I was bereft remembering our living space as we had left it: Charlie’s bed right beside my chair, her bowl of untouched kibble with the milk bone she didn’t even lick sitting on top, the syringe and bowl of broth I hoped would sustain her in the middle of the night in our bedroom. I knew all these things would be there but our sweet girl was not going to greet us at the door.

By the time I went into our empty house, I was wailing. I just let it out and sobbed and cried as I washed and collected Charlie’s things so I didn’t encounter them in every room. Jim and I cried on each other’s shoulders for awhile, and it was also time for personal grief, to experience the sadness that each of us felt in our own way.

This catharsis was healing. I was surprised that I allowed myself to be so vocal. I had one little thought about what the neighbors might think if they heard me; then I realized they would think that something sad had happened. I didn’t need to take care of them; I needed to take care of me.

I have always admired people who could express sadness freely and openly. After experiencing it so cleanly yesterday, I realize what a blessing it is. I felt so alive when my tears ended. Of course, there were more to come, but the sobbing was perfect in that moment.

Jim and I took Charlie’s body to our mountain home and buried her beside our other dogs’ bodies. That too was a blessing. Her body was in a box and I thought we’d just put the box in the ground. Jim suggested that we line the grave with pine boughs and place her body on them. At first I thought, “I can’t look at her all dead and everything,” but he was right, this was a good idea. She looked cute. Isn’t that odd to say? But she looked just as sweet as when she was alive. It was a fine thing to say goodbye to her in this way. More tears fell. And even more will fall because we speak of her often. We sense a presence that is there only in our memory. Our routines haven’t changed to accommodate her absence.  

Snow will be coming soon and in the spring her grave will not be distinguishable from those of Jesse and Bennie. Eventually the poignancy of the last day will fade, but we will always have pleasure and comfort remembering each of our dogs as they filled our lives with unconditional love. Goodbye, Sweet Charlie, I am so happy to have been honored with your presence in my life.

©2007, Jacqueline Hale

Several weeks ago, I decided to get out of the internet marketing business. The work had possessed me. I was giving it my full time attention and getting almost zero response. After nearly a year of untangling the multitude of messages from internet marketing gurus, I was left confused, overburdened, and frustrated. I was spending money and working too many hours; and while I had created webpages, blogs, and articles, I wasn’t seeing the money. Finally, I decided that developing an internet empire wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my time.

Here’s the dilemma. Am I retiring? I’m certainly of retirement age, so maybe I am retiring. We have retirement income, so it’s feasible to retire if I stop spending money on internet marketing. I didn’t feel ready to retire, after all, I still love coaching and writing these articles. I thought I’d try on the retirement idea, and for the past month I have not done any internet marketing. I have been busy with things I really like. I made a quilt, I knitted two hats and three scarves, I peeled and prepared bushels of apples from my daughter’s tree, I read several books, and I worked on projects around the house and garden. Isn’t that what retirement is all about?

I loved all that activity, but I started to feel … what? Was it empty? Was it old? Was it purposeless? Was it all those things? Whatever it was, it didn’t feel great because I began having this heavy sense of missing the boat. Where’s the meaning in life if I have gifts to give and don’t give them? Quilts and scarves and apple pies are fine gifts, but I’m not done giving what has heart and meaning for me. As I’ve sat with that feeling and the question about definition of heart and meaning, I came back to one of my favorite activities – being with people who are sitting around the table sharing their stories and their troubles with people who have time and the inclination to listen and support. That often happens when friends and acquaintances join us at our house in the mountains. It also happens when people get together to work on a project.

Having thought that thought, I came up with this plan: to coach whatever clients come my way, to write articles, and to hold monthly retreats at our house in the mountains. I’ve done retreats there before, but they were structured as workshops. What I have in mind is more rejuvenation and less personal work. What I have in mind is low key, only three or four people. We might spend an hour each talking about what’s working and what needs help in our lives with a little brainstorming. The rest of the time we can go for walks or hikes in glorious Yosemite, or sit by the fire and read or whatever makes us feel better about life at the end of the weekend. I think it’s a good idea and I’m coming out of retirement to try it out!

Ah, six weeks of retirement. That was perfect. I think some people would have called it a sabbatical, but since I’m self-employed, that term didn’t occur to me until just now when I typed it. Let me know if the retreat idea appeals to you. Even if you can’t come to California to attend, it would be great to hear your thoughts on the idea.

©2007, Jacqueline Hale