P.A. MacLean,  December 22, 2007

Nothing tugs at the heart more than seeing seniors in assisted living apartments or nursing homes without family visitors at the holidays. And it happens a lot. Talk to the staff at any center and you’ll get a dose of the sad reality, that even when family members live nearby, many rarely visit. That’s why gifts from your heart make such sense. If the elder in your family, or a friend, can’t communicate well, don’t ask them questions. Instead, tell them about your life and what’s been going on. It’s the mundane chores of daily life that will be the most enjoyable: what book you’re reading, what you’ve baked, or what repairs you made on the house. Tell your parents how your job is going, or the latest about friends they might remember. If they can get out, take them for a ride to see city lights or just go to a coffee shop for a donut and java. If you don’t live close by, maybe you can have meal together at a local restaurant. If they can’t get out, bring a magazine they might enjoy, share a book you’ve read or bring a favorite candy bar, if that’s on the diet. You only need to stay a couple hours. It brings a smile for days and eases the loneliness that comes from being disconnected from familiar faces. Just don’t wait months before going again.

Cathy Bowman,  December 17, 2007

The holiday shopping rush sapped my spirit until an unexpected fall down our steep stairs sent my husband into surgery. Now he’s home, hobbling around on crutches – not exactly how we planned to spend our first Christmas in England. How am I? I’m stressed because there’s so much more to do around the house, because the kids have been sick and because it’s bone-chilling cold. I haven’t slept well in days. We really need a car, and we don’t have one. But I’m happy, because with time and patience, my husband will be fine. What better present could I ask for? We’ll see more of him than if he were hurrying home on a crowded London train every night. We’ll wrap up the presents we have, plus some toys we found in storage that my toddler hasn’t seen for nearly a year. She won’t remember them, and if she does, she’ll greet them as long lost friends. My 8-year-old only cares that her beloved grandparents are arriving soon. What matters most are gifts from the heart. I knew that, of course. We all know that. But it never hurts to be reminded.

Tom Murphy,  December 11, 2007

No matter how bad things get in the world, three hours of sitting in a symphony hall can remind you of all that is good about humanity. Whether it’s Beethoven or Copeland, or even the pops, the blend of art and beauty that flows from the stage can go a long way to healing a troubled soul. One emerges better-prepared to take on the ugliness of poverty, hunger, global warming, war and sickness. We all need beauty in our lives to give us the reason to carry on. And there is, perhaps, no more important gift that we can give a troubled nation, no greater sign of our good intentions, than the human-to-human contact of the performing arts. For that reason, it’s wonderful to see the New York Philharmonic getting ready to visit North Korea, an impoverished country struggling with so many problems. Maybe, just maybe,  the symphony can drown out the voices of hate in both our countries, at least for a few hours.

Cathy Bowman,  December 2, 2007

Hard to believe that a British teacher was sent to jail because of a teddy bear. Harder still to believe that thousands have called for her execution. The 54-year-old teacher, Gillian Gibbons, was convicted in Sudan for insulting Islam because she allowed her students to name a teddy bear Muhammad. Years ago I taught English in Niger, to students who were mostly Muslim. Like Gillian Gibbons, I tried my best. I made a lot of mistakes. But people forgave me and helped me learn. It saddens me that the Sudanese court couldn’t see that Gibbons meant no harm. Of course this is about far more than a teddy bear. At this moment, somewhere in the world, someone is committing a cultural mistake without realizing it. It could be a tourist visiting California. A foreign aid worker in Bangladesh. A soldier in Iraq. It could be anyone. All of us were foreigners once, weren’t we? A little compassion goes a long way. Around the holidays, we all could use an extra dose.

Cathy Bowman,  November 22, 2007

It’s strange to not have a pie in my oven right now, but we’re in England, which doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. Since it’s a school night, we’ll feast this weekend. Still, I’m already giving thanks. My family and I just returned from chilly, lovely Paris, where the rail workers are on strike. We took along three children’s scooters, figuring we could get around quicker. Who knew Parisian sidewalks are as smooth as a banana peel? We glided to the Left Bank for lunch. We rode under the Eiffel Tower, lit up like a firecracker against the night sky. Then – on the way back to our hotel one night – my husband and our 2-year-old tumbled over the handlebars and onto the sidewalk. Right beside a police car and the prime minister’s house. Our toddler, wearing a helmet and strapped in a carrier on Daddy’s back, was unharmed. My husband got a nasty gash and some bruises. Our 8-year-old got a lot of chocolate (hey, we had to calm our nerves). The four policemen and five firemen were great. They took us back to our hotel. It could have been so much worse, but it wasn’t. I’m thankful we’re OK – and that for a little while, I got to be a kid again.

Cathie Ramey,  November 20, 2007

Give thanks for the boomers. Whether it’s volunteering on vacation or working into retirement, boomers are showing they still want to change the world. And they are. Not only are they looking for meaning in work and play that addresses the social issues of our day, they’re helping their children as well as their aging parents. In a recent survey from the National Alliance for Caregiving, it was revealed that more than half the boomers are contributing an average of 10 percent of their income caring for older loved ones. Between the constraints of trying to plan for retirement, rising health and transportation costs, and the unselfish desire to help family, you’ve got to give it up for the largest generation.

Cathy Bowman,  November 16, 2007

If you and I knew each other better, I’d send an instant message instead of writing this blog – or would I? Teens IM to avoid those awkward face-to-face contacts. So do adults. Here in England everyone loves to “text.” Me? I feel no rush. The other day I popped over to Heathrow Airport to meet a friend on a layover. We’ve known each other since we were Peace Corps volunteers in Africa more than 20 years ago. We see each other once every few years if we’re lucky. Phone calls and emails are rare; instant messages, non existent. Yet each time we see each other we pick up the thread of our friendship as if no time has passed. If we messaged each other constantly, I fear we might lapse into mundane chatter. Since we see each other so rarely, we remain intellectually vigorous, discussing books, spirituality, child development, and anything else that comes to mind. I leave feeling happy and inspired. I may have to IM my kids some day, but I’m in no hurry. I enjoy the mystery and the surprises that come from relationships – and the lovely, quiet space when my cell phone is off.

Tom Murphy,  November 11, 2007

While others memorialize his sometimes brilliant writing – what can really be said about great writing that it doesn’t say itself? – I best remember Norman Mailer as someone who shook up the world at a time the world was in bad shape. A lot of people hated him, and there was a lot to hate. He bit off part of Rip Torn’s ear after Torn attacked him with a hammer. He stabbed one of his six wives, nearly killing her. He exemplified sexism. But his life was art; it made you think, it moved you emotionally, it pushed you around mentally. Sometimes it made you laugh. I still have – and in his memory will again be wearing – a button that says "51." It was the campaign button for Mailer’s larger-than-life campaign for mayor of New York. His main platform was to break off New York as the 51st state. He also favored decriminalizing marijuana – not legalizing it, mind you, for who should want to saddle pot smokers with taxes and regulation. His running mate was journalist Jimmy Breslin, who apologized for participating in an exercise that would force bars to close on election day. They lost in the primary. John Lindsay became mayor of New York. But Mailer made us think about who we were and what we could be. Anyone who does that deserves respect in life, and now in death.

Cathy Bowman,  November 7, 2007

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Everyone I know is searching for certainty these days – an anchor, a life raft, something to hold onto. Even in baseball, we want to be sure. I suppose using instant replay is a good thing – but what about trusting a human being to make the call? We live in an imperfect world, yet we strive for perfection. Here in England, officials rely on security cameras to determine who’s misbehaving. At Hampton Court Palace, Henry VIII’s old haunt, a camera captured the image of a ghostly figure in period costume opening and closing a fire door. I know this because my husband and I just went on the after-hours ghost tour. With our erudite guide holding a flashlight, we poked around the silent rooms, standing where pictures once crashed to the ground for no reason. We walked the chilly hallway where young Catherine Howard, wife no. 5, begged for her life (trust me – you can feel the fear). There were lots of questions. Everyone wanted proof, of course, but there were no instant replays. As with life, all we really have is our gut instinct, our intuition, our faith that we’re standing on solid ground.

Cathy Bowman,  October 31, 2007

At last, my time has come. Donovan, the ’60s pop singer who brought us “Mellow Yellow,” plans to open a university where students will practice Transcendental Meditation. I’m in London, and the Invincible Donovan University will be based in Scotland. Surely, if being is nothingness, I can find a way to commute. The school deserves a better name – Hurdy Gurdy U comes to mind – but it’s a great idea. When I was in grade school, my mother took our family to a TM course. I can’t say I remember much beyond the guru’s mustache, the flowers and the oranges we took as gifts, but it was still cool. I had much more interesting stories to share on the playground than what I’d done in Brownies (thanks, Mom). I wish I could remember my mantra, but it evaporated long ago. I don’t follow TM these days, but when I meditate and do some lovely, deep breathing, I always feel better. It’s easy to laugh off ideas like this, but wouldn’t college students be better off learning relaxation techniques instead of drowning themselves in tequila?

Cathy Bowman,  October 25, 2007

It used to seem that disasters on this scale of the Southern California fires happened in remote spots on the planet. Now they are happening everywhere. It’s hard to fathom the evacuation of a half-million people from anywhere, whether it’s flooding in India or fires in Malibu and San Diego. It’s a reminder to live in the moment, because the moment is all we have. A few years ago my house was flooded in California. It was a horrible, stressful experience, but nothing compared with what people struggle with every day in Darfur, Iraq and other places around the world. In my case, the flood made me get rid of a lot of stuff I didn’t need. It made me less attached to things. It gave me the courage to move to Europe. It made me learn to live in the present. There’s nothing like a disaster to make you realize that all you can do in life – really do – is do the best with what you’ve got. It will take years for people to recover from this fire, but they will. It’s a testament to the human spirit – somehow, they will.

Cathie Ramey,  October 18, 2007

I’m in my 50s, still a long way from Social Security, and I never thought I’d have a friend turning 100. But there I was at her birthday party, along with 65 other well-wishers. And I’m in awe. She coordinates and plays in two bridge groups, walks faster than I do, has the most beautiful handwriting I’ve ever seen and remembers my birthday and anniversary every year without fail. Researchers suggest that to live a long life you must look to the future, be grateful, have empathy for others, and reach out to those around you. Interestingly, this describes my friend to a tee. She’s been talking about her hundredth birthday party since the day after she turned 99. She is forever thanking those around her. She is never quick to judge and isn’t shy about asking for help when she needs it. Now I hope that I’m blessed with 100 quality years, like my friend. I’ve already been blessed for the seven years I’ve known her.

Cathy Bowman,  October 13, 2007

Bravo, Al. It must feel good to be validated for what you do – and let’s face it, what’s more validating than winning the Nobel Peace Prize? I was reading a New York Times article about Gore’s personal journey in the past decade, one that has been marked by tremendous highs – and tremendous lows. Most of us get to deal with our personal demons in private. By choosing a public life, Gore has done his processing in public. After losing the presidency he retreated for awhile. Who could blame him? That allowed him to find his “true voice” instead of one muted by consultants. From pain came triumph. It’s a reminder that suffering brings the greatest growth and the greatest learning. Now that he has found his passion – and his true path – he has ignited a new movement. It’s painful to think about how much better off the world would be if he had become president. On the other hand, Gore’s been able to put his energy behind the issue of global warming without the distractions of the White House. So bravo, Al. You deserve it.

Cathy Bowman,  October 2, 2007

It’s been painful to read about the crackdown in Myanmar. Executing barefoot monks and reportedly dumping their bodies in the jungle – does it get any worse than that? I was fortunate to spend a week in Myanmar in 1987 when it was still known as Burma. It is a lovely country with magnificent pagodas dotting the landscape. I remember it as a deeply spiritual place. The recent pictures of the monks in their rust-colored robes linger in my consciousness. A spiritual path takes courage, but how many of us are that courageous? The leader of the pro-democracy movement, Aung San Suu Kyi, continues to fight for her people despite living under house arrest. How does she remain locked up without going mad? As in other troubled spots around the world, the regime’s control of oil helps keep it in power. It’s another reminder that every car trip is a moral choice as well as an economic one.