Graduations

This is the season of graduations--from kindergarten, elementary school, high school, college...I attended my high school graduation, held in our high school gym. That is the last big ceremony I attended until my son's high school graduation last week. I did not attend my college graduation. I did not attend my graduate school graduation. I have gone to several SU commencement ceremonies, but that has been it. They are funny celebrations, a mixture of humor and gravitas. There is exuberation at having accomplished something and sadness at leaving things behind. Speakers tend toward the inspirational--go do great things. I would hate to be a graduation speaker. I have no clue what I would say.

The trappings of power

What is it about offices that gets people so riled up? What is it about space that it became a way to define an identity? Did it start with medieval castles, or before? Is there a culture in which small, intimate spaces are considered more powerful? Is our office size just a proxy for the size of our country? If we can't be generals or kings of a country, we can at least be kings of some small empire.

Space is on my mind as I get ready to move into a new office. Who knew it was such a momentous occasion. I have a nice office. It is spacious and quiet. I put up some personal touches, so it feels homey. BUT, it does not have a WINDOW!!! I wondered if that would bother me, but it doesn't really seem to have an effect that I can tell. When I agreed to accept the dean's appointment as director of CPR, I thought I might move into a new office, but I didn't really care if I did. I could do the job just fine from where I am.

But, since I don't have a WINDOW, I have to move. I guess the director has to have a window, and reasonable square footage. Okay, move me. My new office is likely to be somewhat centrally located, some think this is bad...I'll be too "available," too accessible. Is that bad? I don't think so.

Do our offices reflect our personality? Certainly there are the messy offices, the cluttered ones, the every paper edge straight ones. But what about the location, the size, the WINDOWS. Will visitors think differently about me and my job because of my office? Maybe. But I won't.

Coincidences: Chopin, Abraham, and Isaac

Sometimes I read or hear about the same thing several times in the same week or month. I wonder about those coincidences. Am I just more alert to one reference, having heard or read the other? Are there cycles of reference that just come around now and again, and other writers and readers amplify them? Is it just some type of karma, some way the universe is leading me in a particular direction?

Two such coincidences have occurred recently. The first has to do with Chopin. I've just read three books, all with references to Chopin music and seen a movie in which Chopin plays a role. I'm only vaguely familiar with his music. I have listened to some of the more famous pieces, but I'm certainly not an aficianado. I wonder if I would like his music if I listened to it more. Certainly, in the books I read the music plays a vital role in the development of the characters. It is used as a test of emotional availability, as a means of sexual expression, and as a symbol of longing.

The other reference that has popped up a few times is to the Biblical story of Abraham and Isaac. The first time was in a podcast by Richard Krulwich, who does science stories on NPR. The podcast was of a sermon he delivered at his synagogue on the story. He emphasizes the silence in the story, the things not said by Isaac, Sara, and Abraham. He argues that perhaps it is in the silences that we find faith. I just finished a book called "The Work of Wolves." I don't know that it is great literature, but it has some interesting themes. At one point the story of Isaac and Abraham is raised. The character speaks of Sara, and what she might have said to Abraham, how we don't know those words. "The story we have exists because it is incomplete. It could not survive a real mother's words....The words by which we know are defined by words unsaid. And those unsaid words might be the ruination of faith...The story of God might not survive our hearing it." So, in some ways it is the opposite of Krulwich's argument. Is faith found in the silence, or lost in the silence?

"I'm really pleased."

When can a short, reassuring, phrase bring conversation to a halt? When it is uttered by a doctor. In an interesting study of doctor-patient communication, the phrase, "I'm really pleased (or happy) with your progress," tends to end any questioning or the raising of any further concerns by a patient. The doctor is the authority, she is happy, so everything must be okay. The doctor, in her defense, usually means this as a comforting phrase, a reassurance, but does not realize how it shuts down any concerns that the patient might have.

Are there other such "show stoppers" in conversations? The obvious "whatever" certainly indicates an end of interest, but that is its intention. What about unintentional comments or phrases that make others think you are no longer interested, even if you are? Maybe something like, "I hope that goes well for you," fills the bill. I know I sometimes say this, not intending for it to be the last word. But, it certainly could be interpreted that way.

Aging

I'm currently attending the annual retreat of the Brookdale Foundation's Leaders in Aging Fellows program. The program supports research by new researchers in the area of gerontology. Some are physicians, some are basic scientists, some are social scientists...and they throw in a humanities or two as well. It is really interesting to hear the diversity of the research presented. There are four new fellows this year. One is doing work on delivering palliative care in the emergency department of hospitals. Another is interested in mouth care in nursing homes (how do brush the teeth of demented elderly). There is one who is interested in medical costs at the end of life and another who is looking at how the immune system changes with menopause. And those are just the new fellows. Topics of conversation revolve around dealing with aging parents, aging selves, and aging patients. It is always an interesting group.

Comparisons

I just returned from a trip to Copenhagen. A very nice small city. I spent a lot of time walking there, sometimes by myself, sometimes with my husband. I have never lived in a city. The closest I've come to urban dwelling were my two years in an off campus apartment (well, really 3 different apartments in those 2 years) and less than a year around the time I got married when we rented a house in Frankfort, Indiana (home of the Hot Dogs). In fact, other than those two times, my longest urban existence was abroad when we lived for 6 months in an apartment in Warnemunde Germany. The point being, I am no expert on urban life. I have no desire to be an expert on urban life.

As we walked around the city we were always observing things--quiet streets, noisy streets, pedestrians, bikers, autos, and buses. We started saying things like, "You'd never see that in an American city!" Then I realized that I had very little idea of what I would see in an American city. I've spent a day or two in DC, NYC, Boston, San Francisco, etc. I worked in downtown Indianapolis for 4 years, but would I really recognize an ordinary street scene in an American city? I'm not sure. Certainly Copenhagen is a lot older than most American cities, but there are old churches and buildings in most cities. At dinner one night our waitress asked how Copenhagen compared to NYC. I said that things in Denmark were much older. She suggested we travel to Sweden for a day..."everything is modern there!" I guess she saw my comment as a criticism, rather than as a compliment.