The Importance of Sweating the Small Stuff

Response to my Wednesday's post about dealing with a Blue Cross coverage malfunction leads me to impassionedly say more.

The ideas a couple of people expressed -- which I welcome! -- include the view that others are worse off, I shouldn't sweat the small stuff, and that I think about what Gandhi would do .

Yes, there are people horrifically worse off. My difficulty is minor. I agree.

And that is why it's important for me to speak and act. I do a disservice to many if I take the easier route and become one more person who doesn't go to the trouble of protesting when a big company doesn't do right by an individual.

It's only the well-off who can afford to blow off the loss of $200. And only the well-off can afford to say, "This won't do. It has to stop." If I, with my advantages, look the other way (which is so tempting) I will have failed myself. And failed anyone else whom my taking action might have helped.

About Gandhi. I think of him often. He's the guy who said it's each person's responsibility to refuse to cooperate in his own oppression. Noncooperation was his chief alternative to violence. And he dealt with the little injustices (problems with salt) as well as the large. Little things ignored grow large, particularly as they multiply across a population.

My philosophy for myself is: sweat and don't fret. I write instead of fretting. Gandhi's version of that is to do the work full tilt and don't hang your peace of mind on the results. (And of course: breathe!)

I welcome and encourage your further thoughts here on this.





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My Little Health Insurance Hell: Part Two

So after my first efforts failed, I (boldly) talked with a Blue Cross rep by phone who kindly told me the name of a drugstore where I could get a vaccination that would be covered.

The next day I went to the drugstore. They give the anti-shingles shots, but said my insurance wouldn't cover it. I reported that I'd been told to come there specifically. The pharmacy man said Blue Cross is telling people that they can get the shots there, with coverage, but that BC hadn't yet given the store the infrastructure and info needed to do it.

He said people are coming to that store on a daily basis, expecting to get the vaccine with Blue Cross coverage, and then not being able to get that.

So, fuming in my car in the mall parking lot, I (boldly) called Blue Cross again and was told that all the info I'd received on the previous day about the drugstore was incorrect.

Now seethingly considering my next (bold) action.



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Problem Solving

Lately I've been feeling indomitable in the matter of solving the kinds of little problems that often I'm tempted to let sit a few days. Like dealing with getting an acknowledgment of purchase for an order I'd just cancelled. Or finding someone to give me a vaccination in the manner that my insurance company requires. All those paperwork-y, this-is-not-what-we-agreed-on, 800-number type things.

And I've rediscovered (for the millionth time) that solving one such problem, even if the outcome isn't ideal, makes the next little project easier.

So I Googled "solving small problems" to see what others had to say. Some results, which I heartily endorse:


"Get control of the office by solving little problems quickly. Don't let little issues now turn into bigger ones later. Tackle them immediately for a sense of control."

"But avoiding them can leave you feeling like you have little control and that just adds to stress. ... Feeling capable of solving little problems builds the inner confidence to move on to life's bigger ones - and it and can serve you well in times of stress."

"Make it a goal to have at least one new idea everyday; this will get you to be more creative. Create your own mathematical or physical problems and try to solve them. Get in the habit of solving little problems all day, for instance finding the quickest way around town...."

Note: I don't need to create any more mathematical or physical problems. I'll bet you also have enough on hand to open up the creative channels and add muscle to your solving ability.




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Dealing Boldly With Blue Cross

Oboy. Health insurance Catch-22,000.

Here's what I emailed to my friend Angela Friday when this happened:

"I ordered the $200 serum for the shingles vaccine after checking to see that it was covered. When I went to get it to take to my doc, the pharm. said they hadn't covered it because it had to be ordered by the doctor from the serum company not by prescription to be picked up by the patient.

So I left it at the drugstore and went to my doc's and they called BCBS and said our patients always get it at the drugstore. (According to the nurse,) BC said, well, that's changed now.

My doc's office continues to work on it.

So irksome. Driving around Cary all afternoon for nought. My mother had her shingles shot scheduled and woke up with shingles on the morning she was to get the shot. Bob pointed out to me that at least I wasn't dealing with insurance at the same time I was terribly sick. (Like Obama's mother. He has talked a lot about her spending her last months upset about insurance.)

Thank you for allowing me to vent."

Update: So this morning my doc called and said she doesn't order serum through her office. She did kindly offer to administer the shot at no charge, once I get the serum.

I have to pay the drugstore, because after having been told by BC that my policy covered it, I agreed to. (I'm not going to claim that my own policy toward paying bills has changed to not paying them, or now includes a disclaimer that says I don't have to if I don't want to.)

And now to discover my appeals possibilities, with BC BS and the Department of Insurance person.

I don't like this. And it's not right. Am all over it. (Meaning "in action," not "recovered.") Will keep you posted.





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The Courage to Face the Times' Crossword Puzzle

Major bold move of this weekend so far: I bought a new crossword puzzle book, having done all I could with the last one. The ones I currently go for are the New York Times easy-to-hard collections. I once threw away an unfinished one that was all Sunday Times crosswords. (Times puzzles are easiest on Monday and get harder all week.)

Perhaps you are thinking that this doesn't seem like a bold move. But being a not-so-serious cruciverbalist can be humbling. It's like getting an achievement test score every day, when you took the test on not enough sleep.

I've been dabbling at it on and off for years and I've gotten somewhat better at it--can pretty well whip through Monday through Wednesday. And I remember the time when Monday was a test. Recently I read about a fellow who won't do the Mon-Wed puzzles because they're simply too easy for him to be engaging. I fancy myself fairly clever and well-read and up on cultural references (weak on rivers and athletes) but I may never get to that league.

Still,last night I sharpened my pencil once again. And there's little that's so delicious as a good pencil and a clean puzzle.



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Between Semesters

Looks like I'm finished with a large writing project. There may be a few more details, but probably not much more than that.

I like the weightless feeling that getting something done gives me. On the other hand, this was extremely interesting: revising a book on a topic that fascinates me. I'll miss it.

But I haven't arrived at that mood yet: still in the weightless period, making calls I'd put off making, spending a little more time on my novel, doing smaller critiques, not rushing back from lunch, and feeling pleasantly open to surprises.

My horoscope today on Daily Om : "Feelings of boldness and a sense of self-assurance are your likely companions as you walk through life today." Yes, indeed!





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Bold Even in the Details

I was so happy with yesterday's inauguration, in large ways and small. I do feel that we begin fresh again, perhaps as we have never done before.

Here in central North Carolina, we woke up to see new fresh deep snow, as we've not seen here in quite a long while. Everything looked pristine.

And then I saw (on TV) the hundreds of thousands of flags waving on the Mall, and Obama himself, and the line-up of former presidents and defeated contenders gathered to witness the "peaceful transfer of power" and I felt a confidence in us that I haven't felt in a while.

I was also thrilled by one little detail. At the moment of word bumbling in the oath: Obama didn't get flustered! He didn't let a small problem lead to a bigger one. He was graceful and the awkward moment passed.

Hooray for a leader who can smoothly handle an awkward moment in front of a high percentage of the people in the planet -- and who also thinks straight and means well. This is the best combo I can imagine.





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V.S. Naipaul and M.L. King

Here it is MLK Day and I'm not at the march just down the street; instead I'm obsessed with V.S. Naipaul.

Now, Martin Luther King is one of the people I admire most in all of human history. Never has boldness been put to better use than in the creation of the nonviolent civil rights movement.

But this past week I've been obsessively reading The World Is What It Is, the biography of Nobel laureate writer Naipaul by Patrick French. Never have I been more engrossed in a book.

First, Naipaul is the author of one of my two favorite books, Enigma of Arrival, and I'm a devoted admirer of almost all of his work. I agree with the assessment of many that Naipaul is the best living writer of English, and an extremely perceptive observer of the world. From what I've read, I also agree with the assessment of many that he has been a world-class jerk to quite a number of people.

In my view, these two outstanding facets of the man neither excuse nor diminish each other. His work "is what it is," no matter what he has done otherwise. At the same time, the fact that his books are extraordinary, that he exerts a brilliant charm, does not make it okay to mistreat people, to act in a manner that has often seemed mean and petty and prejudiced and fiercely elitist. (When I described some of the incidents to Husband Bob, he summed up his response in an off-the-cuff couplet: "Don't mess/With V.S.")

But, as so many have been, I'm fascinated by the combo. Some would call it bold to be as unapologetically self-centered as his authorized biography shows him. I don't see it that way.

But his work is bold; it fits no categories, which is an enormous risk for a writer who wants to be published. His language and insight are of such quality that he got past that obstacle.

By contrast, Martin Luther King's view of people was bold. He wanted--and brought closer--justice and opportunity for "all of God's children."

(If Naipaul, a Trinidadian Indian, making his way alone and poor in London had not faced so much prejudice himself, he might have emerged more accepting.)

Both people have achieved something extraordinary and enduring. Neither was/is a perfect individual.(King appears to have been a less than ideal husband.) Tremendous achievement doesn't take away the less admirable aspects of a person. But when I'm feeling less than admirable, I find the example of landmark-achievement-by-flawed-human a good one to keep in mind.






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New Year's Resolution Update

Okay, it's only two weeks into the year, but anything after the first week can be a wobbly moment.

My resolution I summed up at the time as To Defuse the Resistance. And my plan of action was to meditate twice a day, ten minutes each. (explanation on earlier post.)
In short, meditation is to help me to get past the obstacles to where I want to be, on all fronts.

So far, I've been doing the meditating. That's big. And I actually got around to buying a kitchen timer last night. (I'd been peeking at the clock up til now.)

And I attribute to the meditating (and getting great feedback) the fact that I've had one significant breakthrough in revising my novel. I'm very happy about that.

On the other hand, I'm still deep into the sugar habit, Mickey D's Sweet Iced Tea and the birthday cakes in my freezer that I'm still methodically polishing off.

If I had to choose, I'd rather things go well with the novel, but the fact is, I could choose to well on both.

How's it going with any resolves or goals of yours?




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Bold Relationships

I have a box of quotes on my desk: the draw-one-a-day kind of collection. Today's card: "Courage opens the heart." I googled the sentence and found the source: Rob Kall, who has apparently given such matters a lot of thought.

Another of his I found particularly interesting is in the form of a question: "How much pleasure can you tolerate before you can't take it anymore?" The conventional wisdom is that we stick with what feels good, but it's not always true. The phrase "too rich for my blood" is often used to describe such situations. Maybe it's fear that comes from having something that we constantly fear losing.

I can remember romances in my single days that inspired that feeling; that it would be easier to be out of it than to feel that it might end any minute. Paradoxical, but that kind of thinking can really be tenacious.

I'm very happily (and intensely) married for 25 years now; it was several years into the marriage before I completely relaxed. Husband Bob kept saying, "Just take me for granted." He finally convinced me, or I finally believed him. I also feel that if he took off now, I'd already have had a bounteous share of happy marriage.

I think fully enjoying something is the antidote to the fear of it all ending, which, for some of us, takes practice.

(A psychologist friend Bryce Kaye has a chapter online from his book The Marital First Aid Kit on what he calls "hedonic inhibition" in relationships, about the inner stuff that gets in the way of having a whole lot of fun.)

(And thanks, Mamie, who is the source of the quote box, and author of the blog Can I Do It?)



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Ideal Self

It would be a bold undertaking indeed, to be one's ideal self for even an hour, much less regularly. The idea keeps coming up in my mind. When I want a behavior change, rewards usually work pretty well. But most rewards that interest me are not ideal, often involving too much sugar or cash. Ideally, being one's best would be its own reward. I've yet to have that work, maybe I haven't held out long enough.

I could start by figuring out exactly what this individual would look like. I know she would be less self-involved and more altruistic. I also know that I'm much more interested in getting into Barbie doll physical condition, which is not likely to happen, and a waste of time to attempt. (But doing it wouldn't rule out altruism; it's not either/or.) Obviously, my first bold step would be for my operating systems to get a clear idea of what my Real Best would be. Or maybe this is just procrastination, and I should go straight to work at a soup kitchen this minute, without much more than a glance in a mirror, or any further nattering over self-improvement.

Do you feel you're living at your potential much or most of the time? What does that mean? How'd you get there?



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Answering E-Mail -- All of It

Just caught up on e-mail completely. Even the ones that were harder to answer, or took time. (There's one pending that requires a piece of info I don't have yet, but that doesn't count.)

I consider this quite bold. Sometimes I'll open and close one a few times before answering it: not bold.

It feels invigorating to do these little things in an unhesitating way. And it's hard to remember that as the little things pile up.



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Jury Duty!

We showed up at 9 a.m. at the courthouse, half a courtroom full of varied individuals. The man sitting beside me, Sean, was an art director maybe in his late 30s.

In front of me were two black women who seemed to know each other. A lot of men in shirtsleeves, not a single tie. One 65ish woman in a tres svelte suit and a killer good haircut. A tired-looking blonde girl within days of having a baby. A very tall lanky young fellow with a Dutch name several rows ahead. (I know his name because he was one of the nine mildly stunned when their names were drawn, not for the trial of the day, but for a year-long appointment to the Grand Jury which meets once a month.)

At about 11 a.m. we were dismissed for three hours for the court to do preliminary business. I worked on my novel--minor changes on hard copy in pen--first at the hip, granola-ish General Store Cafe (caramel apple cake and decaf) and then when the Council on Aging started pouring in for their lunch meeting, at Hardee's (medium-sized sweet iced tea, if you must know; could have done worse.)

At 2 p.m., we all returned and filled the pews again. All of us on time, nobody skipping town. The judge Narley Cashwell, who'd done an impressive job of being clear in his explanations without being condescending, then dismissed us. The defendant, charged with assaulting a policeman, possession of drugs, etc., had decided at lunch to plead guilty. The jury pool erupted in applause at the news.

While it was an interesting little adventure in, for me, a different town than usual, none of us really longed to be there, it seemed. We were all taking time away from something else.

My point: we have a bold system of government that relies on people showing up, I do know there'd be trouble for anyone who didn't, but trouble is not always a deterrent. Our system really does rely on any and every person. I know it makes mistakes, but still... It made me kinda proud to see it again, genuinely democratic, in action.





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A Second New Year's or First Day of School

I'm in organizational tying up loose-ends mode today. In a way that I wasn't when the year actually ended. Just finished the major part of a very large project, and have a moment to clear off both my desktops (virtual and physical) and create a little order. It's very satisfying. And I always resolve to keep another pile from forming, or at least keep it from getting this high. But then it happens again, and after a while I take care of all the little items again. That seems to be the natural order. There's a business organization guru I've read, David "Getting Things Done" Allen, who describes the process as ever starting over. That's its nature. It relaxes me to think of it that way, rather than in a once-and-for-all way, followed by oops-I-let-this-pile-up-happen-again.

And tomorrow I have jury duty.


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Which Would Be the Bold, Brave, Right Decision?

I'm hooked on sweet fast-food iced tea. One large one a day.

It used to be two, and I successfully cut back to one.

The reason for this moderation is that caffeine is for me a bit of a depressant and an anxiety builder.

My remaining one large cup can still muddy my skies a bit. And I keep drinking it anyway.

The obvious wise choice would be to drink only a small one or quit altogether. But a lot of the time I'd rather drink the tall one and risk the 2 or 3 hours of being a little more jumpy and overcast.

That's a lot of time to maybe not be at my best. And I don't seem to care enough to do anything about it. So, Ideal Self, what are you going to do about it???




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Bold Recovery

My husband Bob would like everyone to know that he was very sensitive and thoughtful in his celebration of my recent birthday. This is to counter the few lines of iffy publicity he received here after his BOLD choice of a 25th anniversary present was not well received. (This happens sometimes with bold choices.)

Anyway, he has celebrated my 60th over several days, culminating last night, after I thought the celebration over, with the one-woman little inflatable kayak I'd been longing for. I am thrilled! I'm keeping the big photo on the box in front of me until it's warm enough to launch comfortably. Yay, Bob! Here I come, Jordan Lake!

Bob demonstrated great gift-boldness-gone-awry behavior. Terrific recovery!




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A Demonstration of Cheekiness (Boldness)

Do go visit the lovely and wildly flattering piece written about me and Sister India on Mojo's blog.

Here's why (other than because it's so nice about me): There's a five minute clip from a Bollywood movie that shows Varanasi, the holy city where my novel Sister India is set. It's a beautiful trip along the Ganges and the riverbank temples and old maharajah's palaces-- with just the right Hindi music. I'll likely visit the site there regularly, when I need to read an encouraging word and when I want to be taken back to India.

Posting this link was bold, don't you think?




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Achieving Sixty!!

At last: the actual day. As of 2:34 p.m. today, I have lived for sixty action-packed years. And more to go.

When my husband Bob turned sixty, my mother said: "You tell him I've had 20 good years since that age SO FAR." Now she's up to 26.

I'm thinking the same way. My big commemoration will be in October, when (for business purposes) I'm spending a month in New York. Getting a sublet. Being briefly "a New York writer."

I'm also celebrating today and all week. Note Self-portrait with Birthday Card.

I've never liked the term crone. Wise woman isn't much better. Crones and wise women don't read gossip blogs, moisturize, or wear cool shoes.

However, I do see the potential for sixty being pretty cheeky.






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High Flying

Yesterday's post was about the gumption of a lawyer-turned-jewelry-designer.

Here are a couple of William Spear enamels from my own permanent collection. Looking at them, I saw a distinct theme emerging: SOARING. Especially when I consider that my next acquisition will be the High Diver pin (blurrily photographed from the catalog.)

Soaring seems the right thing -- since tomorrow I turn sixty.

If it seems the right thing for you too, you might get/make yourself some kind of visual reminder.










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"The World's Most Wonderful Enamels" from the "King O' Pins"

Bill Spear got his law degree in Nebraska and moved to Alaska to become an assistant Attorney General.

But then he threw it all over to follow a passion sparked in him when he was four years old and saw some bright enamel pins from a military school.

He'd always liked to draw isolated objects. So, first as a hobby, then as a business: he started making drawings of objects and turning them into bright charming intricate enamel pins.

He has created over 2,000 designs. They include images you might never expect to see as a piece of jewelry: a DNA helix, a bellhop carrying suitcases, a diver in mid-air, a geisha, a crawling baby, bagpipes, or one of many different species of fish and birds and other sea creatures.

Husband Bob and I went to his shop in Juneau when we were there a few years ago. First we noticed that people all over this surprisingly small town were wearing collections of pins, all at once. Both men and women.

We tracked the pins down to their showcases at William Spear Design, and were delighted with these wee bits of wearable art, mostly hand-made. Each one is so particular that it seems like a fragment of a story. I have one of a Prairie-style house, and a dinosaur, and a book with wings, and a tube of artist's paint. I have my eye on the high diver in the red bathing suit.

They're irresistible. (And they range from about $5 to $20 each.) I'm so glad Bill Spear didn't resist the urge to create them. And thanks to the article in Coastal Living magazine for info on his history.







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Encouragement to Speak Up

"...When I meet visionary teachers who feel isolated on their own campus and ask them what they have done to make their vision known, the answer is often nothing -- which is why they are isolated. The lost will never be found until they send up a flare." from The Courage to Teach by Parker J. Palmer

My added thought: The visionary will only be a daydreamer if she doesn't make her vision accessible to others.





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Another Good Courage Quote

From Mamie, the source of many good quotes (and photos):

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying...I will try again tomorrow.
- Unknown




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Hacked! And Inspired!

Someone sent 2,096 of my friends and colleagues an email Friday trying to sell electronics devices. If the message made it past your spam filter, sorry for the intrusion.

I discovered this state of affairs tonight--didn't pay much attention to my email over the weekend.

But I stayed unusually cool...all on account of an inspiring manuscript I'm reading. A young writer to whom I provided only the slightest bit of help sent me her completed novel asking if I'd consider writing a blurb for her brand-new agent to send out with the manuscript.

First, it was exciting to see what she'd done. Then I spent most of the day reading it: and the book so inspired me. The story put me in the mood to relish the minor difficulties of life as part of the big game.

I'm not always inclined to take that attitude. The last time I played a driveway game of pickup basketball, some decades ago, I got irritated because people kept waving their hands in my face.

Today's delightful reading reminded me that the waving hands and other obstructions are part of what makes the game.




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