Practicing on People I Love

The dynamics of human communication are endlessly fascinating. While listening to a friend describe the difficulty he has communicating with his brother, I began reflecting on predictable breakdowns I have with my own siblings. I love them all at the same time as I frequently wonder how little they seem to get me. And I'd be surprised to learn that all three of them haven't had similar thoughts about me from time to time. Any of you with siblings ever had similar wonderings?

I'm guessing most of you would agree that our earliest communication models are those we learn by observing our parents speaking to each other. Then, if we have siblings - and especially if they are close in age to ourselves, as mine are to me - we begin building models with them that become highly influential in our early development as communicators. In effect, we're practicing. What works? What doesn't? What will elicit a positive response? What will annoy? Which of the techniques I'm trying out on my sisters or my brother will endear me to other people? Which techniques seem to alienate? Which will make me popular? Which should I avoid?

All that ran through my brain as my friend continued bemoaning the communication breakdowns with his brother. I re-played breakdown after breakdown with own my siblings from childhood, through adulthood, right up to the present day. Then my mind moved to lasting friendships I've built over those same years, friendships based on respectful communication. My final wondering: When will I stop practicing on people I love?        

A Reading Posse That Delivers

Throughout your reading life, who has had a major impact on the books you subsequently chose to read?

I've been quite fortunate over my entire reading life. Early on, both my sisters infected me with their passion for reading. Next was my wife; our shared love of literature has been a glue binding us for almost forty-six years. Then, as she grew into an adult and discerning reader, my oldest niece became the newest member of my reading posse as the century neared its end. I would guess more than a third of the novels I've read over my adult life were recommended to me by one of these four women.

I met the fifth member of my posse in 2010, soon after leaving the full-time work world. She selected the books and moderated the meetings for the first book club I ever joined. Five years later the two of us began meeting every month for a 1x1 book discussion. (February selection: Renata Adler's Speedboat, discussed on Rovos Rail as we journeyed from Pretoria, South Africa into Zimbabwe.) Because I began using a book journal in 2010 and have recorded ever since who or what directed me to a particular book, I know for sure that she has pointed me toward almost 25% of the novels or authors I've read since meeting her. How's that for a major impact? 

Of the excellent novelists introduced to me by this newest member of my reading posse, Louise Erdrich is near the top of the heap. Her evocative prose, superb storytelling skills, and memorable characters have helped me better understand the importance of bearing witness to Native American history. After finishing Four Souls (2004) - the fourth Erdrich novel I've devoured since 2010 - I realized anew how lucky I am to have a reading posse that consistently delivers. Who do you rely on like this?   

Words for the Ages: Line Twenty-Nine

"Every form of refuge has its price."

Over their long career as songwriting partners, Glenn Frey and Don Henley created many memorable songs, with lyrics almost universally well-suited to their simple but effective melodies. I know there are legions of Eagles fans among you, so I'm hoping you'll submit at least one nomination of an aphoristic Frey/Henley lyric you think is an equal to the short phrase above. Remember: Your nomination must be able to stand alone, be brief enough to be easily recalled, and it must contain a universal truth, i.e., words for the ages. 

Consider for a moment how much that phrase from Lyin' Eyes says about choices we each make throughout life. Although the "I guess" preceding that gem is necessary for the cadence of the lyrical line, those seven succinct words are the essential ones. The inescapable truth of it takes my breath away at the same time it reminds me of my missteps. What price have you paid for a refuge you chose? 

Re-Entry

"We may never pass this way again."

Although it's possible I'll get back to the continent of Africa in my remaining years, it's unlikely, especially given the number of other places I'd like to visit at least once. No matter; the last two + weeks exceeded my expectations in nearly every way. 

The food, the sights, and the companionship of our traveling companions were first rate. The history and context we got from our leader - a polymath and scofflaw in equal measure - the knowledge and expertise of our other guides, particularly the extraordinary lecture we had on David Livingstone, and the background information provided on each of the four countries we visited helped make everything we subsequently saw more meaningful. And being fully immersed in an unspoiled environment where birds and wildlife flourish was spiritually nourishing. 

Our last experience, an unplanned stop at the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg on our final day - after we'd said goodbye to our Road Scholar group - was a fitting and moving coda to this exceptional trip. As re-entry begins, I desperately want to retain the buzz I'm feeling right now. Perhaps the twenty-nine pages I captured in my journal will assist me in doing so. I hope pictures my wife took - like the one directly below - will also help. Please share with me any technique that has helped you prolong a transcendent experience. I'll try anything to keep my African adventure fresh in my mind.

    

Dispatch Near the End of an African Adventure

Big thanks to those of you who've read my recent dispatches from Africa. Bigger thanks to those who took the time to make a comment on one or more of those posts. I only wish Wi-Fi had been more consistent because every day had several moments of magic I wanted to share while they were still fresh. 

Can any picture meaningfully convey the splendor of the Chobe River separating Botswana and Namibia? Which words might help bring you close to our experience as this African adventure approaches its end? Below is the river as it looked from the porch of our cabin on the Namibia side. Chirping insects, croaking frogs, and roaring lions greeted us at night. The vibrant birdsong enchanted us on our short walk to breakfast each morning. And each trip down the river was better than the last, bringing us into close and regular contact with herds of elephants, hippos and crocodiles within yards of our boat, countless birds.

I feel fortunate to have experienced the majesty of Africa.

Fourth Dispatch: Walking Through a Rainbow

You read that correctly. Among the many highlights this trip has delivered, walking through a rainbow while at Victoria Falls yesterday is - at least right this moment - near the top of my list. However, if I'm able to get a Wi-Fi signal tomorrow, my next post could well declare something different as near the top because every day has had several moments of magic. 

Starting on the flight from Cape Town to Pretoria last Wednesday, I began asking the other sixteen folks on this journey for their highlights to date. As we left Zimbabwe earlier today and headed to our final location in Namibia, I began re-asking the same question. To the person, everyone I spoke with cited different highlights this second time around.  

The picture below, taken during our elephant walk in Hwange National Park, may help explain why it's difficult for any of us to land on a favorite highlight. Each day delivers a new treasure that ascends to the top of the list. 

Dispatch #3: District Six Museum

"Courageous people do not fear forgiving for the sake of peace."  - Nelson Mandela

Hearing an eighty-five-year-old man describing what it was like for he and his family to be forcibly re-located was difficult. Walking around the District Six Museum in Cape Town and reading the first-hand testimony of countless others who had the same experience in South Africa was more difficult. Reading the words of Nelson Mandela above - a man jailed for twenty-seven years for resisting the ludicrous laws the nation of South Africa imposed on him and every other non-white person beginning in 1948 - reminded me how far I still must travel to become a person of grace. 

I cannot begin to imagine what might have been in my heart had I been forced to endure what black people in South Africa did under apartheid. But I'm reasonably sure I would not have evolved into a man anything like Mandela. Perhaps the time I spent listening to this morning's lecture and then reading the testimony of others forced to live with the horror of apartheid might get me within striking distance of that kind of grace.          

Dispatch from the Tip of the World

No words can convey what it felt like today standing 4000 feet above sea level at the southernmost tip of Africa. The picture - inadequate as it is - will have to suffice. 

But as awestruck as I was by nearly every sight we saw today, the evening we just spent at an African restaurant in Cape Town called Gold could end up being even more memorable. As we sampled small plates featuring the cuisine of eleven different countries, our Road Scholar group was also treated to a vibrant musical feast. The drumming, the singing, and the expert marimba playing were augmented by acrobatic dancing, puppetry, and face painting. A peak experience.