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Violent thoughts, difficult solutions

First, the ways in which I’m a walking oxymoron. (And perhaps a regular moron). 

1. I hate guns. We have 3 of them in the house (locked in a safe). They give me the heeby-jeebies, but yet I support my husband’s enjoyment at using them to shoot at clay pigeons. What I believe to be a right and believe to be “good things” aren’t always the same. 
2. I’m a pacifist. And when I saw the photograph of a woman in sheer grief and agony, I thought – nearly aloud – if someone were to take a picture of me at such a moment, I’d cut them. Hardly a moment John Howard Yoder would be proud of. I recognize that my instincts and what I might want to do in moments of conflict  may not coincide with what I believe to be true and right and good. I think that’s part of the human nature. 
Now, my thoughts on yesterday. 
I’ve heard blame, the cries of “we must do something” (and I’m all on board if we have full-proof plans by the time H Boy enters kindergarten). The pundits allude to new discussion of how laws and rights will shift and change. But I believe this all to be the efforts of the powerless to feel a sense of control in a situation out of their hands. Perhaps by adding “regulation” we can feel like we’re doing something, but in actuality we’re not doing anything, we’re simply passing the buck and crossing our fingers. 
The problem isn’t guns – the problem is how we think about guns
Name the last movie you watched that didn’t include ammunition. Name the last top-selling video game  that lacked weaponry. Violence pervades our entertainment and our entertainment shapes the ways in which we view the world (I could make a similar argument using romance and love). Even those of us who consistently stay behind the trends by a good 6 months, can’t name the last 3 Academy Award winners or the 4 major gaming systems (are there only 4?)  become shaped and molded by what we see on the screen. 
I’m not saying it’s the fault of the media for producing violence-laden entertainment. I’m saying it’s the fault of society for not realizing that it can, and will, impact our perception of reality. Can a reasonable adult play a shooting game and be trusted not to let loose on the neighborhood? Sure. But can we at least ask that same reasonable adult to acknowledge that engaging in the activity has in some way glorified the heinous act of killing people simply in the act of making it enjoyable? Absolutely, I believe we can and should. 
In our culture’s version of “conflict” we crave seeing it in a physical form. It sells. So it’s highlighted, celebrated, and sought out. “Chick flicks” even require a certain level of action to pacify segments of the audience. We walk into a cinema expecting something to be blown up. And woven in the the messages of the stories to which we seek to escape are lies, lies, lies about violence. These experiences make violence simple, often non-emotional methods of finding solution. But they’re so common that we’re not always sure how to find resolution without the epic action scene of saving the girl and the building.  
Do I advocate a moratorium of movie-making? Not really. But rather than ask some lawmaker to pass a 465 page bill that no one understands which makes it more inconvenient for those seeking to properly use a gun, perhaps we as individuals, as parents, as families, as churches, as schools, as communities, should ask ourselves how we view – and glorify – violence and how it might affect those being raised in that culture. 
My 4 year old often picks up random toys, such as a plastic vice grip (I had to ask what it was called). He uses it as a “shooter”, to shoot-shoot-shoot at people. How exactly do I speak to this? How do we begin to talk about why people shoot other people? And if we feel it’s okay to shoot “the bad guys”, what defines a “bad guy”? How bad of a guy does s/he have to be? 
These are the questions we’re letting our media answer for us. And often, it doesn’t take much to define a bad guy. One could simply “hurt you.” Sometimes, it only takes being different from ourselves, being part of an opposing team, group or country. How does this speak for our views on acceptable violence? And when this is the pervading message of our culture, why are we shocked when its youth take these beliefs and live them out in extreme and horrifying means? 
“Gun control”? Probably not a solution. Banning all movies and games with guns? Probably not a solution. Calling members of personal society to personal reflections about internal beliefs about “acceptable” violence? Not an an easy solution. But for many of us trying to make sense of tragedy, it might be the first solution we can seek out. 

The List: 2012, A Summary

I cringe to review my progress on 2012 goals; I forgot to do a mid-year check, so some of these received no attention. A few of them saw huge gains, mostly because if I didn’t see progress, I’d crumple up in a mess. I needed it. I read a blogger who reviews his list each week and posts progress toward each goal…. I might need to consider something similar for 2013 as I begin composing the new list. But first, a review on 2012. 

1. Create more. If I can make something (sewing, crafting, activities outside of “play with your toys”) each month, I’ll feel like a supreme success. 
I’ll score this one a 6 on a personal level, a 1 on a familial level. I find myself crafting and making more gifts (I’m super excited to give Jack his this year! And I think – hope – Raya will be impressed), but for my own kids, I’m lacking. I’d love to make a playhouse, H-boy his own version of Jack’s present, all kinds of fun stuff I’m seeing on Pinterest and – let’s be honest – I have the time now. There’s big room for improvement next year if this makes this list. 

2. Complain less. I’ll be a better conversational partner because of it. 
I’d like to say at least a 5, but if I were to survey those I speak with the most, I have a feeling I’d be sub-3. Definite room for improvement. A moment of self-defense: I’ve learned this year I have a bit of an entrepreneurial mind, always looking for ways to improve or make things better. I don’t necessarily see this as a shortfall, but in smaller bits it may come across as complaining about the status quo. But honestly, I’m less about the “how stupid is this?” and more about the “can you imagine if we…?”. If using that perspective, I give myself an 8. 

3. Serve on a regular basis. I’m not sure what this looks like, but I’m doing my research. In my hopes to engage the community, I need to be specific that it’s not the community “just like me.”
At max, 1. Awful. I did do research and found that my time constraints were overwhelming my ability to follow through. Unless I find a place to serve that offers childcare, and it’s not between 12-3 (naptime). 

4. Write something beyond the blog
Based on how this is written – 10! I did it! I posted with one other blog. However, my intentions were for more than 2 posts… so I should honestly give it a 5 and hope to double it in the future. 

5. Do a bit of physical activity 5 days a week. My downfall is when this requires changing into a bra that prevents bounce. But I just found a 30 day “challenge” (thanks Pinterest!) that provides some movement and crunching that I can squeeze in at the end of the day sans post-activity shower. A few jumping jacks and crunches are better than nothing. 

6. Take more pictures
Epic fail. Zero. I think I left the camera home more often than I took it, especially during the summer months. I did grow slightly in my efforts with the iphonetography, but only when the kids were especially cute. I bet I didn’t even average a new picture a week – a week! – on the iphone. I’m going to look back it this someday and cry. 

7. Find new outlets to meet people in this community. A writers group, a running club for young girls, 
Dar la Luz, kids activities (parks & rec activities, the library)… there are possibilities out there if I choose to follow through. 
8! I did well! Partway through the summer I began helping with our co-op, Stone’s Throw, and really enjoyed my time working with others there. I still try to participate, though the meeting schedule is changing, and I intend to continue participating in various ways with it. I still wouldn’t mind meeting others in the other contexts I find myself often – H Boy’s preschool, the library, and church. 

8. Facebook less. If I really want to know what my friends are doing, give them a call, shoot them an email asking them real questions about their life or plan an outing to meet up. 
Ummm… 2? On a good day? Justification: I now use facebook as a major role in my professional life, so I can’t exactly ignore it. But on the personal level – which was really the root of the goal – I didn’t succeed. I have a handful of my friends that I call, but silly things like JOBS cause obstruction (and my evening hours are much more difficult to sit and have a chat). Perhaps a goal about connecting with friends each month would be worthwhile. 

9. Get dressed more. Working from home has a way of luring me into my comfy pants. Though I don’t need to go to the 9s, I could at least don pants with a zipper 3-4 times a week.
Boom! I’ll give myself an 8. Even now, when I don’t always leave the house, I change clothes mid-morning when the kids get dressed and always try to give an appearance to the mailman that I’m not spending the day huddled under the blankets. I never want to give an impression of, “Oh, kids sick again?” because I’ve not attempted to put myself together, even if it’s a ponytail. Every once in a while both the kids and myself stay in our jammies a bit longer, but it’s a treat we enjoy. 
 

The dental (and religious) abyss of young adulthood

Today I took a step toward personal responsibility and went to my dentist appointment. It’s not that I hate dentists or fear The Chair, but it’s been far too easy these past (ten) years to avoid making the call. I could blame the lack of dental insurance, but honestly, I was raised without such privilege, so I don’t feel that’s an honest factor (though dishing out large sums of money to hear that scraping sound was never high on my priority list). 

I ashamedly told the nice dentist of my ventures away from the dental world, however, he took to it kindly and mentioned that I was not alone in my period of living the prodigal. He said, “you just fell into the dental abyss of young adulthood.” 
So, apparently pastors and dentists can commiserate their vocational struggles with the similarities of their situations. The elderly pay the bills and you must meet their needs, while the young scamper away, unaware of their folly, no matter how many times they’re warned that their youthfulness doesn’t make them invincible. Then they return – “because of the kids” – with a mess to clean up, asking for an easy (and cheap) fix.  
And why do we become such wayward souls during our 20s? I think both pastors and dentists probably come across types who: 
  • feel like they do enough without having someone else invade their space 
  • don’t trust “the establishment” and figure they’re just out to get money
  • aren’t afraid of making an appearance, but rather they simply don’t make it a priority and thus never darken the door (*yours truly)
  • (please insert your own reasons for avoiding either establishment in your comments below.)
I sat in the chair for 2.5 hours with a (not-literally) God-sized hole in my tooth that only the dentist could fill. If I had neglected any longer, chances are I would have lost the tooth all together. There was not much exterior damage, just a shell of weak enamel chomping around, silently dying inside. 
The dentist did what he could to numb it before going to work. But all the excavating and cleaning and repairing -well, it irritates a situation which, though uncomfortable, is familiar. Now I have parts of my jaw and gums all flared up, who I originally thought were quite happy. It turns out that death growing in the hollows affects more than you realize. The overall condition of your oral health integrates with each individual tooth, cavity and crevice. What do you know, we’re holistic beings, not a group of compartments.    
It took more work to get me fixed up than the dentist anticipated. The depths of decay in my poor molar reached beyond expectation. Throughout the process he was kind and patient and wished beyond wishes that it wasn’t my “reintroduction” to dentistry. The road could be far easier with a cleaning or perhaps a filling on the upper gum. Better yet, a visit 5 years ago when we were breeding a slight crack would be optimal.  But no. I returned in full-fledged crisis mode, pleading for more Novocaine. Just make it all go away
I was released, numb, with follow-up appointments. It turns out that messes can’t be easily covered up, but rather need rebuilt. Most things in life don’t come with a one-dose fix. Our teeth – our souls – require constant care. And though I was a good brusher and even fit in a good frequent flossing, sometimes the basics don’t cut it. We need eyes other than our own, eyes trained to see below the surface, to take a look and guide us back to health. 
    
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