Seeds of Compassion, Day 1: Press Credentials

A few days ago I received an email from the Seeds of Compassion media coordinators that I had been approved for press credentials to attend some of the Seeds of Compassion events (an event lead by the Dalai Lama)! I am still reeling a bit from the news and definitely excited beyond description. I'm sure all of you seasoned reporters out there will take this with a grain of salt but for me this whole thing leaves me speechless! Me, press credentials? Yippeee!

I could go into the details of how I somehow missed out on the myriad of opportunities to get regular tickets and was left without any option of seeing the Dalai Lama... but it would take too long and let's stick to the point here: the Dalai Lama is in town and I have been granted press credentials to see him - wow, simply amazing!

Things will start this afternoon: picking up my press credentials downtown WITHOUT THE KIDS. Being that I am technically a stay-at-home mom on Thursdays and Fridays while my husband is at work, and being that the Seeds of Compassion media coordinators said that bringing the kids wouldn't be a good idea (gee, any other way I could show how inexperienced I am in these things) I started begging people to watch the kids last night at 9:39 pm.

In the end, our dear neighbor agreed to take care of my kids while I travel downtown to pick up my press credentials and participate in the press preview. I feel especially guilty since he is the only person in his whole family who won't get to attend any of the Dalai Lama events (he wasn't able to get a ticket). It seems almost unkind to ask him to watch the kids in such a situation. However, this is important! I am on a mission and must charge ahead (gosh, is that devoid of compassion or what!?)

As for the event itself, I HIGHLY doubt I will be able to ask any questions or even get very close to the Dalai Lama or others leading the events. Nevertheless, I ask myself, what WOULD I ask the Dalai Lama IF I could?

Would I come up with some profound question which would leave the other reporters nodding their heads in agreement and then asking themselves, "Who IS that inspirational press person over there?" "She is with WHICH publication? Multilingual Living Magazine? I will definitely have to learn more about her and that magazine! Maybe we can get her on board with our publication!" And they proceed to write down my name and the magazine's name and I'm feeling special and inspired and important and, dare I say, full of myself!

HAH! How I make myself laugh!

Ok, the reality is that if I could ask something I'd probably start with a few "Ummms" and "Errrs" and then fumble around with some kind of jumbled question which went nowhere and in the end the Dalai Lama would have to ask the person next to him "What EXACTLY was the question?" with a quizzical look on his face (yet a kind, compassionate smile). The other press people would look over at me (who was certainly beet red in the face with embarrassment) and ask themselves, "Who the heck let her in here!?" I'd look around, smile and then pretend that I was invisible (like my daughter when she wants to pretend like no one can see her, she wrinkles her forehead and just looks away in another direction until the attention on her has passed).

Actually, the first thought that comes to mind right now is to tell him is how much I have enjoyed that Christmas calendar which I purchased for myself and my family and a few of my friends (and which I have on my desk at work) with daily quotes from him. Gosh, is that pathetic or what!? Talk about extremely un-deep and un-profound!

Seriously, though, what would I ask him? What should I ask him?

What would YOU ask the Dalai Lama?
What thoughts would YOU share with him?
What would be on YOUR mind?

Tell me so that I can write them down (just in case)! You wouldn't want me turning beet red, now, would you?

The Dalai Lama is Coming to Town!

"True compassion is not just an emotional response,
but a firm commitment founded on reason."

The Dalai Lama

His Holiness the Dalai Lama is going to be in Seattle this month! He will be leading an event titled Seeds of Compassion: www.seedsofcompassion.org.

I find that the Dalai Lama's message is so important for families around the world raising children in more than one language and culture, primarily because we have such valuable knowledge, resources and experiences to contribute! Here are examples of two primary ones (from a myriad of others):

(1) Those of us who have come to feel a deep love for more than one language and culture understand the powerful force of global compassion. We cannot help but recognize that "the others" are also us; that cultural and linguistic divisions are artificial definitions created in our minds. The question is whether we continue to strive to maintain this appreciation for the differences in the world or slowly allow ourselves to resent anything that alters our status quo.

(2) Our children are truly the ambassadors of generations to come. What they learn from us today as we raise them will be their foundation for global compassion. Do we imbue our children with a love for the world? Do we honestly instill in them an appreciation for humanity no matter what a person's language, culture, skin color or standard of living is? We need to ask ourselves this question honestly and decide if we are helping to foster compassion in our children or further widening the divide. It isn't about what we say to them, it comes from our children witnessing how we treat others and the things we say about others.

Ultimately, compassion is about letting go of fears - fears of "the others" because they do things differently: they speak a different language, they act differently, they don't smile back when we smile, they dress strangely... even those who have done something mean to us. The moment we label others, we instantaneously create a divide between them and us. As many wise humans have said: the moment we label something as good, then something else receives a label as bad (vs not labeling something as either).

The fact that we create a label is not really the issue (creating a label is our natural human response to want to understand and define a person and situation). The issue is about how we ultimately react to the label we have created. Will we treat that person worse because they wear their hair differently? Will we gossip about them behind their back, saying how strange they are and how much we don't like them? Or will we recognize that yes, we have indeed created a label but that actually we aren't really sure of anything about that other person and even if we did, we should refrain from talking about them behind their back?

Is it possible to have compassion even for those who do things which we find offensive? Yes! It doesn't mean we condone what they do and it doesn't mean that we don't speak up and say that what they are doing is reprehensible to us. Having compassion for others is about understanding that they are doing the best they can in their current predicament and state of mind (yet we do so without feeling a sense of superiority and arrogance).

As the Dalai Lama says: we ALL want peace in our lives, we ALL want to be compassionate beings. Even those who are acting cruelly ultimately want to be compassionate and loving. For whatever reason, they are not able to find that way just yet. But if we can find compassion in our own hearts, then we can show them what it means to be compassionate no matter the circumstances and will be there when they reach out their hand in need. However, if we do so with a "better than thou" attitude, then we should actually be questioning our own motivations and our own relationship with compassion first before attempting to be an example for others.

I'm not sure whether I'll be able to see the Dalai Lama or not when he is in Seattle. If I can't, I will still revel in the joy that he will be nearby for 5 days.

Check out www.seedsofcompassion.org for more information about the Dalai Lama's time in Seattle.

That's Not My Poop

The other night I was exercising in my husband's office (the home of my beloved elliptical trainer) while my son Patrick was bouncing endlessly below me on a mattress left over from our recent family visits. A box of my husband's Physics papers falls from the mattress to the floor. Oooops! My son looks at it and beelines it for the office door (figuring I'm in my blissful state of elliptical trainer heaven and won't notice).

"Uh, Patrick," I say through exhausted puffs. "Can you please pick up that box of papers and put it back on the mattress."

As a side note, it really makes no sense to put the box back on the mattress where it will simply sit for another period of days or weeks until the next child knocks it over - but it is my husband's office and, well, it is the principle of the thing, right!?

Patrick takes a long look at me. He grimaces. He lets out an audible sigh of disapproval and states in no uncertain tones (and in English no less): "Papa should put that box back, it's full of HIS CRAP."

CRAP?!?! Where the heck did that word come from, I ask myself!

So I give Patrick an eyebrow-raised look and say, "Did you know that crap actually means poop?"
"WHAT!?" he yells out. "Ewwww. It does not mean that!"
"Oh yes it does, it certainly does," I give a satisfied smile.
Then he takes off down the hall yelling, "Yeuck, yeuck."

I retell my husband the story and he lets out a hearty chuckle. We discuss the situation and agree that Patrick most certainly learned the word in daycare. He learns all of his English in daycare we agree. Then my husband puts the box back on the mattress.

Yesterday, while in a meeting at work with my QA group, I retell the story of what Patrick said. I include the part about how I told Patrick that crap means poop and what his reaction was. We all laugh - ah children, they are so darn funny!

I also explain that I have no idea where he learned the word crap! "It is an English word and he said it in an English sentence so he must have picked it up at daycare." We all nod and agree that daycare is to blame for our children's rampant profanity absorption (albeit, crap isn't really a profane word but what the heck, nice to have someone to blame).

Half way through the meeting we are talking about our office's internal wiki where we post all of our activities. We discuss how at times we get a little overboard with our pages. We post so much information that the pages become cumbersome and useless. I find myself saying, "Yes, we just don't realize it and start putting all kinds of crap on our pages."

Knowing smiles start to spread across the faces of my coworkers. Oh my gosh, I said it! I said crap, it is ME who is teaching my son to say such words!! As this realization starts to hit me and I start to laugh, one of my witty coworkers says: "So, I guess what you are saying is that we should be careful not to put so much poop onto our wiki pages?"

Oh poop, they got me! :-)

Family All Around

The holidays haven't always been a joyful time for my husband and myself. The ocean dividing family and friends in Germany and us in Seattle has been palpable at times - thick and all-consuming. And just because my family lives in California doesn't mean we see many of them more than once every few years!

But over the years we have found ways to make this divide less heart-breaking and more heart-warming. Telephone calls, little packages sent back and forth, Skype and, of course, visits have all made our living apart a little less silent and lonely.

The hardest time of the year for my husband has been Christmas. Although we get into the spirit as soon as we can after Thanksgiving, it just doesn't fill the memories which my husband has of Christmas back home. Drinking Gluehwein, munching on freshly roasted nuts and the chatter of other holiday wanderers all warm the spirit during the holidays in Germany. The smells, sounds, sights and overall spirit during Christmas is simply indescribable. They have an uncanny way to make you forget that it is freezing cold outside and that your toes are about to fall off.

Here in Seattle things just aren't uniform in the way that they are in Germany. In part this is a good thing: due to the mixture of cultures and traditions and religions, everyone has their own idea of what warms the heart during the winter holidays. But in other ways it means there is no central location where the trappings of Christmas are displayed in all of their glory as is the case in Germany.

Personally I am not very religious (spiritual, YES, but organized religion and I are still having deep discussions). So it isn't that I want religious symbols plastered around town. But sometimes I would like to have a kind of uniformity of sorts that goes beyond the secular-ness of Santa in his red and white suit and the hammering of holiday songs about snow from the big department stores reminding you that there are only a few days left before gift-giving time (and that they have 70% off everything)!

There is something missing in a country which claims to appreciate and cater to all. I do believe that the United States as a whole really does want to do good by all of us and I DO appreciate that fact that there are so many different holiday traditions celebrated right in my neighborhood. However, what I can't stand is that without the lack of unity of celebration, big business has taken over the holiday season as its own, demanding that consumption be the unifying God of this holiday season. "We can't sing about Jesus Christ so how about 'Santa Claus is Coming To Town' during your holiday shopping spree? And did we mention that we have 50% off everything?"

I guess what each of us does in the United States to avoid the commercialism of the holidays is to create our own little cocoons of spiritual replenishment; to surround ourselves with family and friends and warm conversation; to find others in our towns and cities and join with them to celebrate as it feels most comfortable. And to let others celebrate next door and down the street and across town as it feels most comfortable to them. Sure, things may not be created for us in a uniform way to just step into. But in the end it is worth it as long as we don't let commercialism fill the lack of one uniform tradition.

For us, Christmas this year was especially warm and lively. My mother-in-law flew over at the beginning of December and spent the holidays with us (see photo above of her and I in the kitchen after Christmas dinner)!

I think she had a fine time spending the holidays with us and I know that we won't quickly forget the smells of Vanilla Kipfel, Mandel Hoernchen, Huehner Frikasee, Kohl-Rouladen and much more which she made for us. I think my husband simply died and went to heaven each time he bit into one of her traditionally prepared German delicacies. And I'm sure he was delighted to have an expert with him in the kitchen to help prepare Rouladen for our Christmas dinner (which he does each year... followed by Mousse au Chocolat).

Having so many family members together during the holidays was extremely special. My mother and brother arrived a week before Christmas and our house warmed up even more. What could have been absolute chaos (and was at times) ended up being a lively, heart-warming, laughter-filled few weeks. We also invited our neighbor across the street to our Christmas dinner as his family was in India and he was alone that night.

As always, we combined our German and American Christmas traditions: dinner on the evening of the 24th and then unwrapping presents from family and friends after dinner. Then on the morning of the 25th, opening presents which der Weihnachtsmann/Santa put into our stockings during the night. On the one hand, it is a crazy mess of gifts and wrapping paper but on the other hand, our children won't always be this young and filled with the magic of the season.

I'm not sure that we will ever have a Christmas like the one we just had. But rather than regretting that it is over, I cherish the memory of it. I am so delighted that my husband and I can truly bridge the expanse of space and time of our two countries, families and histories. After it was all over, as we were driving back from the airport after dropping off my mother-in-law for her flight back to Germany, my husband and I looked at one another and agreed that it is the fact that we are from different countries and cultures and traditions which makes our lives so much richer and fabulous. Yes, it is all very bitter-sweet at times but we wouldn't change a thing.

L'amour à la (AOL) française

As many of you know, the "technology company" which I often referred to as my place of employment was none other than the glorious America Online (AOL). Our group was purchased by another technology company in August, so I no longer work for AOL. I have spent close to 10 years working for AOL, helping to create and test the many language databases which are developed for the T9 product (which many of you will find in your cell phones for text messaging!) . In fact, when I met with Tommi earlier in the year, he jokingly said that he wished we'd develop our T9 software to support bilingual entry for cell phones, so that he could message in both Finnish and English at the same time. I was delighted to inform him that we DO have a bilingual program in place. It is just a matter of the OEMs putting it on their phones. :-)

After a recent round of layoffs (2,000 people worldwide), the AOL France team decided to go out with style (we would expect no less from the French!). Check out this fabulous video from the AOL France team (lip-synched to French Eurovision 2007 song from the band Les Fatal Picards). And yes, if you think you are hearing a bunch of code-switching between French and English, you are right! This is a delightful example of fun, fun, fun code-switching! I wish we'd have thought to have done something as wild and crazy when AOL sold off our group to another company!

The password for the video is: aollover .

L'amour a la francaise from pyc on Vimeo.

The Compassionate Life

I was on vacation from the middle of August until the middle of September - ahhhh, vacation. The space and time to think again. To actually read a book and to breathe deep, deep breaths, those breaths which actually fill the bottoms of my lungs. The time to taste the subtle richness of a coffee, the smoothness of melt-in-your-mouth ice cream, laughter with family and friends, the scent of new landscapes, the sounds and sensations of different locations. Since we always take our vacation in big chunks of time (this was a "short" three-week vacation) we have the luxury of slowly getting used to this state of mind over the course of weeks.

It is almost always on vacation that I feel myself transforming back into what I like to call "myself." It is a slowing down, an embracing of the realities of where I happen to be standing at that moment and the ability to listen and understand it.

While on vacation I had decided to read two books which I had purchased in Seattle: "The Well-Adjusted Child-The Social Benefits of Homeschooling" by Rachel Gathercole and "Real Food-What to Eat and Why" by Nina Planck. I was NOT disappointed as I slowly made my way through each book. Both point toward something I had been longing for but was unable to grasp: getting back to basics. One book reminded me of the value of family and the bonds that form there each and every moment we are together. The other reminded me of the importance of food and the need to get back to the basic elements of it which means getting as far away from processed foods as possible. In my hectic life, I often forget the importance of home-cooked foods (be it cookies or dinner or a snack of carrots and hummus). I don't agree with everything that Nina writes in her book (I prefer to avoid meat more often than not) but all in all it was a good reminder to get back to foods that are real (we have even started purchasing raw milk from a local farmer and are drinking it as-is (no heating it first) and making some fabulous yogurt and kefir. I look forward to making some cheese!).

Then, a week into our vacation, while browsing through Bookshop Santa Cruz (yes, you guessed it, this book store is located in the heart of fabulous Santa Cruz, California - our vacation was visiting my family members who are spread out between northern and southern California) I spotted a book that Alice had reviewed for Multilingual Living Magazine titled, "Eat, Pray, Love-One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia" by Elizabeth Gilbert. On a whim I purchased it. In fact, my husband purchased it for me.

Husband: "You want to get that book?"
Me: "Well, I donno. Alice said it was good and here it is as a favorite pick by one of the book store's employees. It must be a good book."
Husband: "I think you should get it."
Me: "Yea, well, it is pretty expensive. I can just borrow it from the library when we get back."
Husband: "We're getting it for you." He takes it off the shelf and as he turned to go to the cash register, I beamed with an excited smile.

That night I started reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and my life started changing.

There is a part in the book where she spends time at an ashram in India. By the time I finished that part of the book, I was trembling. It is hard to explain why it impacted me as it did. Perhaps it was because by the time I got to that part of the book we were visiting my mother and brother in my childhood home (one which is filled with ambivalent memories thanks to the endless arguments of my parents as I was growing up) which always leaves me feeling a little exposed and raw.

Or perhaps because it resonated with the years I spent practicing Zen Buddhism, which included visits to Green Gulch and Tassajara Zen Centers. For anyone who has spent time at these two zen centers, they are the real deal: up before sunrise to meditate for hours, silent meals, working in the garden for much of the day, crashing onto your floor mat at the end of the day from sheer exhaustion. There ain't no way you can escape yourself at these places no matter how hard you try. I was 17 and 18 years old at the time and a wore a scarf on my head for over a year as a kind of "leave me the hell alone because I am trying to figure out who I am" gesture.

For whatever reason, there was a moment while reading the book that I suddenly experienced an overwhelming rush of compassion; compassion for myself, my family, for humanity as a whole - a level of compassion which I don't think I have experienced before. It was a total, complete and in some ways spiritual wash which came over me at that moment and I couldn't remember what it was like to NOT be completely compassionate in all ways, shapes and forms. It was a kind of embracing of the world and a love for everyone in it.

At that moment I felt it just taking over my every cell without any urging on my part. It reminded me of zen koans (which I read incessantly during my zen Buddhism phase of life): that kind of sudden realization which takes place in a different part of of our being than our mind - a whole body experience, if you will. Like the pure satisfaction we experience when musical notes resonate in perfect harmony. We know what we would like to hear (or what we don't like to hear) but it isn't until those notes resonate perfectly that we experience an absolute whole-body-and-mind fullness from the wash of the music.

I still have no idea what caused the perfect blend of words, thoughts, experiences, mistakes, hopes, dreams, tragedies in my life to cause this moment to happen but whatever it was, I was left feeling like I was viewing everything in life from a completely different vantage point than before. My struggles for different things and desires in life just melted away and I was left with a combination of humility, understanding, calmness, love, joy and gratitude.

I'm not sure how long this state of being will last. A few aggressive Seattle drivers, a nasty coworker, the hectic schedule of life could very easily knock me off my balance. But for now I am so honored to have this opportunity to experience this way of experiencing the world.

Let's put it this way: the other day when someone raced in front of me and cut me off in a big gas-guzzling SUV and then proceeded to flip me off (yes, even Seattle has those people), I found myself looking at that outstretched middle finger and feeling nothing but deep compassion for that person; compassion for what must be going on inside that person which would urge him to act that way. I actually understood exactly how caught up he must have been in his own world, where doing such things was his only way of making himself feel whole. Is that not something to feel compassionate about!?

There have been times recently when my husband expected me to react a certain way to something he or someone else said (based on how I usually react) and instead, when I didn't react the expected, pre-compassionate-me way, he gave me a big smile. Smiling back in return I said, "Remember, I told you! I have changed!"

Oh - and some fabulous music!

My favorite right now is Joe Purdy: www.joepurdy.com. You can listen to his songs on his website. My favorite albums of his are "Only 4 Seasons" (I love the song "Why You") and the other album "You Can Tell Georgia" (the song "Can't Get it Right Today" is great).

And another great band is Nickel Creek! My mother and brother introduced us to their music while we were visiting.