Words worth....

I am, at end of the day, [or the blog,] little more than a purveyor of words. Words are my passion, some say my gift, and they have deep meaning to me. I generally choose my words carefully, so that my meaning is clear, if nuanced, by the choice of prose with which I express my thoughts. Thus, it struck me this morning as I read a brief item in the news, how much has been lost in our culture of casual twittering. We live in a world literally flooded with words, but meaning and intent have been nearly lost under the requirement of speaking to each other in 143 digits or less.

The item that set me to thinking concerned a young wife and mother, 25 years of age, who has enrolled in first grade, along with her two young sons, ages 4 and 5. She is not American, and the obstacles to her enrollment were not merely custom or age. She is from Pakistan, and like at least six out of every ten women in that country, she is illiterate. She had a yearning to learn, to open up the world even from behind the veil of her burqua, and to show her sons a better way of life for all Pakistanis.

This is all the more remarkable, because women seeking education in Pakistan is extremely controversial. Women, and girls, are literally dying for their desire to be educated. Families are torn apart, fear and tradition keeping them in ignorance as they fight not only the cultural norms but their own family traditions.

The young woman credited her husband for supporting her decision and enabling her to attend school. That sounds like faint praise to your average American woman, I suspect, but I don't doubt that in her case it was genuine and sincere. Without his approval, she would not be able to do anything in a country where a woman is considered to be the property of whatever man is in charge of her life. And by allowing her to attend school, he risks dishonor for his family, and himself, in a culture where honor drives nearly every interaction and transaction.

She is a brave woman, risking death or other backlash, in her quest for something so elemental that we, in an atmosphere of greater personal freedom, take it entirely for granted. She is, in a word, a hero to me, for standing up in the face of tremendous adversity to make a difference, not only for herself, but for other women, and ultimately men, as well. If she can successfully navigate the educational system, it will encourage others to make the attempt. And because knowledge is power, she is empowering a whole new generation as her sons see that her education makes her a richer, more productive person.

The media has, in my view, confused the word hero with the word idol. Celebrities, actors, sports figures, tech CEO's, politicians - none of them are heroes to me, although they are frequently accorded that status by a world of people who have lost the elemental meaning of what a hero is.

Most heroes are not famous. They don't perform heroic acts to become celebrities, although ever so briefly, they may be thrust into the unwanted limelight for doing what came naturally, although not necessarily easily, to them. On the contrary, from my observation, true heroes frequently shun the media, hiding from the attention, turning aside the suggestion that they are, in any way, extraordinary.

American Idol at least has the moniker right. We idolize celebrities for being famous, regardless of their accomplishments [or lack of accomplishments, as the case may be.] We idolize them for their money, their power, and their prestige. We honor them and fete them and feel like we know them personally, because we have become inundated with the minutiae of their lives. We call them heroes for spending time and bringing attention to their various pet causes. We confuse talking about poverty or illiteracy or child abuse with enduring the consequences of those issues, and we pretend that by adopting a child they are saving the world.

If any word should have a clear meaning, it should be the word hero. It should be used sparingly, and only for those who have earned it. There is no substitute for them, because they are genuine and real, and all too rare in an egocentric universe.

The world is full of unsung heroes, people who have stood up to adversity and overcome it with humility and grace and very little fanfare. We occasionally hear about the passerby that saves someone from a burning building, or jumps into the water to save a drowning child. Every now and then, a human interest story will surface that briefly reminds us a hero is an everyday person in extraordinary circumstances, and they have risen magnificently to the occasion.

I am not elevated by the big catch, or by someone who can play make believe for a living. I don't feel inspired by politicians who make rules for others to live by, nor do I find someone who is famous for being, well, famous, worthy of emulation. I may be envious of their money or their platform or their success or even their good luck, but they don't really change the world for the better with their presence.

I am, instead, called to action by those who have inspired and motivated those around them to be better than they thought they could be, elevating others through their own selfless acts.

Time magazine will probably never name Rukhsana Batool as their person of the year. She likely won't ever design a computer network that connects people on every part of the planet. She may not solve the problem of world hunger, she will probably not provide the way to world peace, she isn't going to find the cure for cancer or the common cold. She won't design a new car, and she certainly won't ever reign in Hollywood.

But Rukhsana Batool has overcome fear and oppression and enculturated ignorance in a show of bravery that uplifts and inspires. She is going to change her own little corner of the world with her fearless action. From such small beginnings revolutions evolve, and she is in the vanguard. To me, that makes her a very special person, someone to hold up and emulate and honor. She is, in a word, a hero.

I have a long list of personal heroes. They are people who have inspired me and prodded me to be better than I thought I could be, people who rose to their own occasion, and made a positive change for someone on a personal level. Corrie Ten Boom, and Miep Gies are my heroes. My mother is my hero. I have a close friend who heroically navigates the tough hand she was dealt in the game that is life.

I am inspired by the ordinary people who came to the aid of those injured in Tucson. I can only hope that if I am ever called to account, I will acquit myself as well as those on Flight 93 on September 11, 2001. I would hope that if I am ever in a position to save someone through my own selfless action I would do it without thinking, because it is the right thing to do.

Rukhsana Batool, you have inspired me, uplifted me, and given me hope that even in the darkest corners of this planet there are people with vision and courage and the inner strength to lead the way to a better world.

Now I think that is something to idolize.

Tragedy and triumph....

It has been a difficult week in the American psyche, as we collectively struggle to understand the shooting of innocent people, including several government officials and a little girl, by a mentally unstable young adult who couldn't make sense of his own reality. It is frightening and horrifying to think that something as simple as attending a meet-and-greet with your congressperson could result in the death of a little girl who hadn't even had the chance to go to middle school.

It is so easy to focus on the many crises, both natural and man-made, that plague this world. There are floods and shootings, landslides and earthquakes; disease, wars, tornadoes and fires. The news cycle focuses on the catastrophic events, running them over and over in an endless loop until it seems we are showered with bad news 24/7.

But, as with every tragedy, out of this horrific situation have come some triumphant moments. It is the triumphs that make life worth living and we must celebrate them for the uplifting moments that they give to us. The valleys are deep and long for most of us, and feel endless. When the mountaintop is reached, we have to embrace the experience with abandon, throwing our arms out in joy and acceptance, affirming the positive moments for the miracles that they are.

The big miracles are easy to see, and to appreciate. A congresswoman should be dead after being shot in the head, but she is alive because of a 20 year old intern hired just five days earlier and who both knew how to stop her bleeding, and had the presence of mind to put his knowledge into action. Another man would have bled to death but for the presence of mind of a stranger, who saw his injury was life threatening, knew what to do, and did it. The gunman was stopped while he was trying to reload by a few people, including one with military training, who decided they weren't going to let him continue his killing spree. Heroes, all of them - everyday people who stepped up to a plate they didn't even know was ready and waiting for them until the moment it happened.

We all celebrate these big miracles, and rightly so, because they show the best of human nature, and make us all a little better. But there are other miracles that happen around us all the time, if we look for them, and I think they should be celebrated, too.

A new baby is a miracle. A budding flower is a miracle, as is a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. A pet saved, a disaster averted, an unexpected hug from a loved one - all can be miracles in the right time and place. Life is full of little miracles, if we look for them. I have been contemplating that this week, in the midst of the obvious miracles that we have seen in Tucson, and I think that I need to be more cognizant of their place in my life.

To me, it is a miracle that my dog is alive today, when he could be dead. I have worked with some phenomenal people this week who made things happen for clients they didn't even know, just because they are great people. I have had uplifting words offered at just the moment I needed them most, and the person had no idea how much they buoyed my spirits by their kindness. Spell check is a miracle every time it catches my mistakes. My truck doesn't need a new transmission when we thought it did, my washing machine didn't break down and need the repair I expected, my driveway got cleared of a heavy snowfall unexpectedly - all are surprising little miracles that made that day, and my life, a little better.

We can take many things away from the shooting in Tucson this week, and each of us brings our own unique perspective to the outcome. Where one person sees it as the obvious reason for gun control, another sees it as an equally obvious reason to allow concealed carry. Where one person sees a need for easier access to mental health care, others fear for unnecessary intervention. I have seen some expressions that congresspeople have no business meeting their constituents on the street corner where everyday people gather, while others abhor the idea that we would further isolate the people making the rules that the rest of us have to live with.

We have many deep and strongly held convictions in this nation today, and many of them are in opposition to each other. It is a difficult and contentious time in our nation's history, and it is easy to focus on the many obstacles to happiness in our country today.

But in the final analysis, the most important thing is what touches each of us personally, and in that, I have decided to focus on the little miracles, and leave the worries behind. My personal world is small, and I lead a small and insignificant life in comparison to a Congresswoman or a judge or a national leader. But even in my small life, I see the miracles every day, if I am willing to look for them. And in that, I think I will find a greater level of joy and peace and satisfaction in my daily living.

In each tragedy, there is a moment of triumph. I wish to everyone a week of small miracles, and the appreciation of what they bring to your life. Happy climbing, and celebrate the mountaintop!