Ordinary life in an ExtraOrdinary Way

It has been an extraordinary year with challenges and blessings beyond ordinary. But, what is ordinary in times like ours? My personal year was filled with the "extra" challenge of Martijn's cancer diagnosis, treatment, then the shock of the treatment failing to produce the desired results, the surgery, the fears associated with that, and now his astounding recovery. Compounding this journey were various hits and misses regarding my career. I was recruited for a number of top positions, including the role of CEO for an international foundation which I found to be a mismatch for my expertise and conscience. On the other hand I began lecturing for the University of Maastricht and consulting for the City of Maastricht and an international foundation based here in Maastricht, the European Centre for Development Policy Management, known in the international development field as ecdpm. 

But many individuals are faced with health and livelihood issues. One in three westerners is expected to have a bout with cancer in his/her lifetime, for example. And many people lose jobs or seek meaningful work. Given the emerging 'credit crisis' of the developed world, many now are facing more fundamental problems like losing their homes. So, regarding Martijn's health and my livelihood, we, at least, begin the prospect of the new year with extraordinary prospects.

During times of crisis most of us contract our personal universes, but I have tried in my most sincere albeit imperfect way to continually look beyond at the bigger world even as I felt consumed at times by my own particular situation this year. I managed two trips outside the region, the first for my CEO interview which took place in Phoenix, Arizona and during which I stopped by to visit with dear friends in Minnesota (which conveniently is a direct flight from Amsterdam). And, just before Martijn's scheduled surgery I traveled once again to Slovenia to be with my good friend Irena (see last blog entry), continuing on to holiday in Croatia. But during this 'vacation' I was also ill, and distracted by Martijn's condition, so I returned home earlier than planned for. I missed the 40th high school reunion of my beloved Girls' High in Philadelphia, even though I was originally one of its organizers, but have kept up with countless classmates who provided and continue provide extraordinary emotional support. 

As an inveterate extrovert, gaining much of my energy from external interactions, I sought and received much outside contact this year. We hosted many guests and I was especially grateful for visits from David Fey and Carol Malkinson from Minneapolis for my most vulnerable stage of Martijn's illness. And Martijn's family - mother Geri and Marcel, brother Jan and wife Irma, sister Elly and husband Paul, and brother Noel, and the countless stream of friends who came all were all extraordinary in their help and support. So, perhaps my ability to reach out and connect are a bit extraordinary.

I kept current on world events. In May I interviewed author Jeremy Rifkin penning an opinion piece scheduled to be published in January in the Philadelphia Daily News. I also wrote two additional Op/Ed pieces, one on Soft Power in Harry Potter, the other on the collapse of the I-35W highway bridge in my former home of Minneapolis for which I'm still shopping for placements. 

Is my life more complex than that of family, friends and colleagues? Are my beliefs and hopes and struggles and dreams any more or less ordinary than those of others? I don't think so. I merely think I live an ordinary life in an extraordinary way.

What is ordinary? We live in times defined by the ability to literally destroy the planet, or at least major portions of it. Einstein (and other of his colleagues who participated in the modern science that among other things spilt the atom unleashing just such a potential) realized that the atomic age brought forth the capacity for extraordinary menace as well as extraordinary miracles. Among his many quotes I find this one most hopeful: "We can't solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them;" followed by this bit of sagacious advice: "Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction."

So, I offer you my poem with images, to help you consider your own extraordinary self. It's not that I have any specific plan to help unite us, rather a small belief that we are each capable of engaging our imaginations toward moving the trajectory of this world in a direction of peace and abundance and acting accordingly. Many of us already are.  Next year I will focus on completing my Intentional Transitions book and workshops to help individuals who are ready, willing and able to do so.  Thank you for accompanying me on this extraordinary journey, I hope we continue together into 2008 and beyond!

Not tinsel and lights

This is young David Zagajšek, seated in a cafe in his home of Ljubljana, Slovenia in October 2006. Daivd, who is the son of my dear friend Irena, included the following poem with our holiday greeting. I don't know if it's original, but it is lovely and sums up the truth of this special day: 

Christmas is not in tinsel and lights and outward show; the secret lies in an inner glow. It's lighting fire inside the heart; good will and joy a vital part. It's higher thought and greater plan; it's glorious dream in the soul of man.

Here I am with mama Irena at her seaside home in Piran, Solvenia the same year.

To all of our friends we wish you higher thought and a glorious dream. And, that we awake one day to discover that peace has broken out all over the world.

Coming On Christmas

We take a break from our holiday preparations to enjoy the pool, hot tub and sauna here at Centre Ceramique. This is Martijn's trial swim and it went, well...swimmingly! We hope you are also able to take time during this possibly hectic holiday season to simply savor the moment. Cheers, Susan

Lacy light

Lacy light etched a mural on our wall this morning as I sipped my cappuccino and re-read Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs and Steel. (Please click highlighted texts for more information!) Last night Martijn and I had our first romantic evening out since May. We dined at our favorite Maastricht restaurant, now graced with a Michelin rating, and appropriately named, Le Courage. It took a lot of courage for Martijn to sit up for two-and-a-half-hours, but the feast of shellfish soup, baked skate, venison in chocolate wine sauce and a three course dessert eased any dis-ease he may have felt sitting on his reconstructed bottom for such a long stretch. This morning we continued this time of wonder by sleeping in, later breaking fast with oatmeal and fruit.


Later we crossed the hoge brugge (high bridge) to the old city where we visited our favorite gallery which has a large collection of Cornille and other CoBRA artists. Here is Martijn on the high bridge framed by our lovely rolling and currently roiling River Muese. Directly over his left shoulder you see the rocket ship that is the Bonnefanten Museum designed by Italian architect Aldo Rossi and just to the right of that the Kennedy Bridge behind which sits the seat of government for the entire province of Limburg. Later we enjoyed our customary dinner at mother's house, candle lit and cozy. These are truly days of wonder.

Imagine

It was twenty-seven years ago that my mother, Emma, passed away, one evening after John Lennon's assassination. I always remember both during these short winter days by lighting a candle and meditating on their respective lives. My mother had a very difficult life plagued by illness after my birth. This photo shows her (left in the dark suit) in more carefree times posing with her friend on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. Before I was born she was vibrant and bright, holding a responsible job during WWII at Philadelphia's Frankfort Arsenal. Despite her incredibly poor health, my mother reached her 70th birthday loved and admired by many.


I don't need to tell most people about John Lennon's life. He used his fame and fortune in his later years to promote the concept of peace and positive change. He asked us to imagine a world where we live in accord with our own beliefs, respecting those of others. 'You can say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one'... He believed in the power created by individuals bonding around a cause. I hope that you, like me, imagine such a world. Experiencing Martijn's miraculous recovery reinforces such a concept. I reached out to friends, colleagues and even strangers. The concentrated love and energy of so many people cemented my belief that positive thought and action can change the world. I like to think my mother believed in such possibilities, too, though she never could express it. John Lennon etched hope in the consciousness of millions. You, my friends, radiated such hope during my dark hours. Imagine. Imagine. Imagine and act.

Reflections

It has been a very good week and weekend. Tonight dear friend Jens Hasse, one of my University of Maastricht EPA Masters Programme classmates, came to visit from his nearby home in Aachen, Germany. Here we are pictured in August 2006 when he visited Martijn and me at the family's summer cabin located in nearby Lanaken, Belgium. This evening, Jens brought Martijn a lovely book of landscape photography and we spent time catching up on each other's lives. Then Martijn headed off for Sunday dinner with Geri and Marcel and Jens treated me to my favorite Maastricht pizza and more good conversation. Last night Martijn and I hosted friends Mary Waller and Birgit Schneidmuller for an Indonesian feast and more good coversation.

Thursday evening good friend Maurice Schoffelen hosted me for dinner and then took me to Lanaken to see the primere of The Golden Compass (starring my hero, ice bear Iorek Byrnison pictured above) while Martijn again spent time at his mother's. This activity reflects Martijn's continued progress and independence. He is walking on his own steam to his mother's. He's doing food shopping and preparing dinners and continuing to gain weight. All tremendous markers of his will and determination towards health.

But, my reflections beget others, reflections on the fear that accompanies the hope of Martijn's amazing recovery, and the hope that accompanies the fear. I had intended to write about this until I came upon an article in this weekend's Wall Street Journal Europe that says it so eloquently, I direct you to it. I promise it is a good read. I've reprinted the lead here and invite you to follow the link to read the article in its entirety. I thank the author, Craig Winneker, and pray that his Rosie blooms bright, beautiful and strong.

Reflections on the Birth
Of New Hopes and Fears
By CRAIG WINNEKER
December 7, 2007
"Fear" doesn't begin to describe what my wife and I felt when, just 27 weeks into our first pregnancy, we learned that our baby would have to be delivered prematurely. "Hope" isn't big enough of a word to contain our emotions now that our little girl is here.

As Rosie struggles to get bigger, to develop, even to breathe, our lives have become an inescapable intertwining of fear and hope. The more fearful we are, the more we need to hope. The more hopeful we feel, the more we set ourselves up to fear things that might go wrong. The two emotions feed off each other. All new parents must experience this to varying degrees. Suddenly, at a time when there are so many big things to worry about in the world -- from war to economic uncertainty to environmental degradation -- we find ourselves focused on something very small indeed. Continue at http://online.wsj.com/article/SB119697929965816330.html?mod=home_europe_weekend

Giving Thanks for Miracles

Pawel Kromholz gazes into the Menorah's flickering lights and wife Barbara Greenberg listens as Martijn offers with heartfelt sincerity the following traditional prayer on the first night of Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights: "Blessed are thou, Adonai, great creator, who has sanctified us by your commandments and directed us to light the Hanukkah lights.Blessed are thou, Adonai, great creator, who has performed miracles for our ancestors in times of old at this time of year." On the first night of Hanukkah there is an additional prayer: "Thanks be to you, Adonai, great creator, for keeping us alive and in good health and for bringing us together." That certainly says it all. May the lights burn bright for each of you and your loved ones whatever faith you follow during this season of magic and mystery.

Friendship and fame

Sometimes during the past months I really sreamed to ease the fear and tension. Here I am with Tessa Gunther last month hamming it up for Scott's camera. This week Martijn's increased mobility and independence has allowed both of us to resume more normal routines.

Nawal El Saadawi, activist/author prepares for her lecutre. Barbara Greenberg and daughter Sophie invited me to hear Nawal El Saadawi speak at one of the regular lecture series hosted by the University of Maastricht this past Thursday evening, November 29th. During our post lecture nightcap Barbara and I agreed that El Saadawi was getting by on 'fumes' from her past works. Her presentation was scattered, contradictory, and lacked any substantiation at best; at worst, she ranted and made some dangerous accusations. All the more pity since she is a bright and talented voice for the oppressed and under privileged. Although she redeemed herself during the animated Q&A session later, I was disappointed.
Our work week ended with a most fitting reunion with our wonderful 'Healing Touch' Angel, Gerry Hartmayer, shown here at a farewell party at her home in Maastricht. She and husband Bob are relocating back to the U.S. to be closer to family and friends. The event was moving and meaningful and many colleagues and friends, most from Bob's workplace, DSM, honored both Gerry and Bob. These occasions tend to be stiff but this emotional response was a testament to this special couple. And how symbolic that this was Martijn's first real evening out. We both believe that Gerry's care and concern for us hastened his healing. We wish Bob and Gerry much pleasure and luck in their transition back to their native USA.