We all sang that together last night, performers and audience alike, at the end of the Winterfolk concert, led by the radiant Tracy Grammer. I had tears of joy in my eyes, our sense of unity was so palpable there in the old Aladdin Theater. My heart friends Vicki Lind and Colleen Kaleda were with me (our third time ) at this annual  fundraiser for Sisters of the Road.

To me, ‘home’ in this classic folk song means the earth. This earth is our home. My blog (and my life) are based on love of this home, and living with care. Many of you know that I treasure community, nature and the arts. I believe when we cultivate  joy in these, we become less addicted to stuff. Less consumption of stuff means we’re then treating the earth better.

This earth is my home, my only home, and yours too. Wherever we live on the earth, we all share the same home. Let’s know that, and live here like we mean it.

• I Remember Loving You
• Sandy’s and my thoughts on the BlogHer conference
• Decoupling Christmas From Spending
• Resources For Good Living: Suggest A Link!
• About Furloughs And Household Finances

I was flying my private plane one night over the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Suddenly the sky became foggy and I began to get nervous. My heart skipped a beat when I realized the plane had just lost all power. My plane was losing altitude fast!

With the radio not working, I had no way to call for help. The fog was like an endless fall to my unforgiving grave. With fear rushing through my trembling body I tried to find a way out of the aircraft. I tried to lift the top up, but it wouldn’t budge. Waves were crashing into each other as loudly as cymbals  in an orchestra. Before hitting the water I managed to swing the door wide open. Without hesitation I leaped forward into the water to avoid the plane. When I hit the ocean chills ran up and down my spine and my body went numb. Underwater, I craved air and the thought of it made me swim faster. Finally I reached the surface and gasped for air to fill my almost empty lungs. I searched the horizon for land. To my surprise I saw something. From where I was it seemed impossible to reach, but I started to swim.

In the morning I realized the island was just a few hundred yards away. After a long period of time I reached it. Crawling up on the beach, exhausted from the hours of swimming, with no idea of where I was or if I was safe, I sank into a heavy sleep in the sand. When I opened my eyes I was in a hospital room. A woman with a clipboard came in and said, “Good afternoon.”

“Where am I?” I asked, wondering how I’d get home.

“You’re in Hawaii,” she replied, and then left.  A few days later I was released from the hospital and on my way home. Before boarding the plane I looked out to the sunset and decided I should enjoy a few more days on the island. So I rented a house, and some hours later went to bed.

I woke up to an ear-splitting boom. I got up and looked out the window. Japanese planes were flying overhead. I ran out of the house, scared out of my mind. Then I felt pain in my chest, and fell with a thud, sinking this time into a peaceful sleep that will last eternity.

• Making The Ocean Drinkable, Part I
• Free Ways To Enjoy Ourselves
• The Great Sufficiency
• Ashes And Ancestors
• More Important Than Osama bin Laden

Well, I can own there’s been a paucity of posts, and what has been appearing is often written by gifted people who aren’t me.  The photo on the left will be four years old this summer. I’ll admit that my blogging has been looking like the reverse image of a New Years resolution.

So, gentle reader, let me lift the curtain on my writing life and invite you inside. No tatoos, no hair color not found in nature, no slouchy coffee shop sessions or land use rants. I’ve actually been following my 2012 NY resolution, and also my 2011 resolution before it.  I’m finishing my novel, Revelle, and will self-publish it later this year. Turns out it takes hundreds and hundreds of hours to write a novel, and like many creatives, I also have a full-time job claiming my time (mine is in transportation options. Cool stuff, progressive and meaningful, but it can sure drain the brain). Helping me, polishing my work and relieving some of my brain-drain is Erick Mertz, whom I’ve hired as my editor. He’s great to work with: smart, responsive, warm, thoroughly engaged. I recommend him.

In our lives we always have to choose some things over others. I’m choosing finishing my novel over steady blog posts here at Diamond-Cut Life. Some things, though, trump Revelle, and ought to. For example, the book came to a halt for two months last spring, when I attended my mother’s death, and then grieved it. I feel great about that choice, and would make it again in a heartbeat. I am not saying: ‘All things in moderation’. I’m saying: ‘Do the right thing. The right thing usually stems from love.’

Hundreds of  times in my life I’ve been happily set on fire by good fiction. I want to create that rich, joyful experience for others with my novel.   The first chapter of Revelle is here. I’ll post the second chapter within January.   My next Diamond-Cut post will be a short story by an amazing 12 year old named Sophia Gonzalez.

• Deb Speaks On Being A Critical Consumer
• How I Succeeded In A New Year’s Resolution
• A Little Help From My Friends, Please?
• We’ve Found Our New House
• Ban the Bag Portland!

(If you thought us Portlanders are too liberal to embrace church, please think again: some of us progressive folks

Each year, if I’m fortunate and paying enough attention, there comes a moment when Christmas becomes real to me.  I’m not referring to getting the presents wrapped, the house decorated or finding just the right size turkey, though in good years I thoroughly enjoy each of those rituals.  I’m referring to the moment when the gifts of Advent – hope, joy, peace and love – cease to be a marketing scheme for selling more purple candles and take up residence in my heart.  One year the moment came as I walked home from the Christmas Eve worship service at my neighborhood church in a light snowfall.  Often it comes late at night when I tiptoe around the quiet house enjoying the sounds of a home filled with sleeping loved ones.

This year it came in a most unexpected manner.  I’ve lived in Portland for over 25 years and in that time have never  attended a Multnomah County Board of Commissioners meeting.  Then, this week, I received emails  about two agenda items  I care about – Multnomah County Libraries and the Common Cup Shelter – along with invitations to attend.  And so it was that I went to my first County Board of Commissionersmeeting.

First up was the library.  Portlanders love their libraries, so it was no surprise when 14 people stepped up to wax poetic about the virtues of the library system.  I myself stated that support for the libraries equals support for our struggling school districts.  Katie, a church friend, chairs the Library Advisory Board and gave powerful testimony.

Next on the agenda was the idea of turning a piece of surplus county property into a multi-cultural community center.  Stakeholders groups spun an exciting picture of a space that could serve a community dedicated to sustainable practices, local food, accessible community education and common ground.  The delightful Café-Au-Play space in my neighborhood was repeatedly used as an example of what community groups can pull off with the support of government and non-profit partners.  Much of the hard work behind Café-Au-Play came from Josh and John and their families, also friends from Lincoln Street church.

The two issues on the agenda that impact homeless families included still more powerful testimony. City Councilman Nick Fish introduced a resolution to allow churches and non-profits to permit homeless persons to car-camp in their parking lots.  A similar resolution was passed the previous day by the city of Portland.  There were a few extraordinary moments in the testimony.  First, a representative of the sheriff’s department supported the resolution, lamenting the situation that criminalizes the homeless for trespassing when all they want is to find a safe place to park their cars for the night.  The care and compassion expressed by the sheriff’s representative and the county Commissioners was remarkable.

Then, when a Commissioner expressed frustration with  band-aid approaches to the problem of homelessness, Councilman Fish poke eloquently. He said the root causes of homelessness are outside the scope of the city or county, but the local governments do have to deal with its effects.  Approving the emergency funding for the Winter Shelter-to-Housing system involved still more touching testimony and still more consensus that we are called to care for those among us in need.

At the end of two hours I left feeling a sense of connectedness to my community, and pride that we are, indeed, a caring people.  I saw my tiny church in a new way, as an integral part of the web of connections that makes our city a vibrant and livable place to be.  I was struck by how fortunate I was on that Thursday morning before Christmas to get this window into the soul of my community.

On how many other Thursdays do similar meetings take place – full of good people doing good works – that I will never know about?

And so it was that the gifts of Advent came to live inside my heart this year. I am filled with HOPE that together we are going about the business of building the best community we can.  I feel the JOY and PEACE of knowing that so many people are engaged in this work.  And how profound to know that we are fulfilling the commandment to LOVE our neighbors as ourselves!

• Life And Death, Love And Pain
• How I Succeeded In A New Year’s Resolution
• Decoupling Christmas From Spending
• Building The Web of Community
• Christmas As Community (Not Stuff)

Our Christmas Eve last night was a dinner party that Thor and I hosted for my brother Mick visiting from California, a long-time friend, and two new friends — both single men without family in the area. The evening was rife with laughter, animated conversation, teasing (“oh no, not fruitcake!”) and good, homemade comfort food (“But what IS polenta?” ” Kind of like mashed potatoes — give it a try!”)

The two guests who were completely new to me clearly felt comfortable and happy to be here. My husband, brother and friend of 26 years became yet closer and more dear to me. Everybody got along beautifully.  The background here is that countless times in my earlier, single life I was hosted on holidays by a variety of warm people who welcomed me into their homes, as my family of origin was a thousand miles away. I got to experience home away from home — when I could have been lonely and isolated instead. I am so grateful to those many people who created community in their homes over the years of my life. It was as if I,  a stranger, was simply a friend they hadn’t yet met.

Now it’s my turn to be them. I’m now the one who gets to be the giver, the non-traditional matriarch who sets the stage for community, who greets new people at the door with smiles and double-handed handshakes and says good-bye hours later, clasping them to me in a warm embrace.

The other day when playing the UnGame here at our house, my nine year old friend Jeremiah pulled a card with the question, “What is your favorite place to be in the world, and why?”

“Here,” he said without hesitation. “Because I feel so good when I’m here.”

Quite a Christmas gift to me and my passion for community.

• How I Succeeded In A New Year’s Resolution
• Building The Web of Community
• Life And Death, Love And Pain
• Top Christmas Gift Pick: Alpaca Socks
• Decoupling Christmas From Spending

“This is on time,” I returned indignantly. “Last minute would be the day of Christmas Eve.”

As you would guess, diamond-cut Christmas shopping lives outside the box. Especially, outside of  big box stores.

My brother Mick is at the top of my shopping list. He’s flying up on Friday from Orange County in Southern California, and being a nurturing sister,  I asked him day before yesterday (a full WEEK before Christmas) for gift ideas. He said that since he just moved into a cool new apartment he’d like things for it, like placemats, nice salt and pepper shakers, a calendar, and maybe a wall clock. “Like from Target,” he added helpfully.

For one thing, you can see Mick isn’t asking for big-ticket items. The backstory (everything has a backstory) is that the family we grew up in wasn’t very materialistic. Gifts were modest, like record albums, books and clothes we needed anyway, but they felt like plenty. And recreation for us wasn’t skiing, but rather, games like charades and 20 Questions.

But what I’m noticing this morning is that Target was at the top of his mind as the place to buy Christmas gifts. And, surely if lowest possible price was all I cared about, Target is where I’d buy him a wall clock, and placemats, etc.

More than cheap, though,  I care about  small business owners who need to make a living. So when I go Christmas shopping this afternoon, I’m not going to Mall 205, home of Target and other big box stores, but to Mirador, a lovely, bustling, locally owned store that’s two miles away from our house. I’ll find great gifts there for Mick and his new apartment. And on the day of Christmas Eve, Thor and I might take Mick to Saturday Market, where we could together shop for a unique gift and give our money directly to the artist who made it. Like in the olden days.

And speaking of the olden days, in 1993 I had my own booth at Saturday Market from which I sold my handmade journals and art cards. I froze my butt off for hours a day, day after day, thrilled by every single purchase a shopper made from me. You have no idea how powerful your purchase from an artist is. It’s a statement that tells the artist to keep working and following her dream.

My friend Christina emailed me the below piece that’s chockfull of gift ideas, some that have never occurred to me. I asked who to attribute it to, but it came from a series of forwards that had unfortunately left off the name of the author off. Many thanks to the thoughtful person who penned it. Apologies for formatting problems (Techno-Dork strikes again. That’s me.)

___________________________________________________

It’s time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in a shirt box, wrapped in foreign-made wrapping paper?

Everyone — yes EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificates
from your local hair salon or barber?

Gym membership? It’s appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some
health improvement.

Who wouldn’t appreciate getting their car detailed or bicycle tuned up? Small, locally owned
car washes and bike shops would love to sell you a gift certificate or a
book of gift certificates.

Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plonking down
the Benjamines on a Chinese made flat-screen? Perhaps that grateful gift
receiver would like his  lawn mowed for the summer, or
driveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.

There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants — all offering gift
certificates. And, if your intended isn’t the fancy eatery sort, what about
a half dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint. Remember, folks this
isn’t about big national chains — this is about supporting your home town
Americans with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.

How many people couldn’t use an oil change for their car, truck or
motorcycle, done at a shop run by a local working guy?

Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom? Mom would LOVE the services of a
local cleaning lady for a day.

My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who is
struggling to get his repair business up and running.

OK, you were looking for something more personal. Local crafts people spin
their own wool and knit them into scarves. They make jewelry, and pottery
and beautiful wooden boxes.

Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leave
your server a nice tip. And, how about going out to see a play or ballet at
your hometown theatre.

Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.

There’s the matter of Christmas decoration. Do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chinese
lights for the house? When you buy a five dollar string of light, about
fifty cents stays in the community. If you have those kinds of bucks to
burn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.

We can decide that Christmas is now about supporting our local economies, encouraging small businesses to keep plugging away to follow their dreams. And, when we care about local people working to make a living, and invest our dollars in them, the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn’t imagine.
THIS can be the new Christmas tradition.

Forward this to everyone on your mailing list — post it to discussion
groups — throw up a post on Craigslist in the Rants and Raves section in
your city — send it to the editor of your local paper and radio stations,
and TV news departments. If we choose, we can create a revolution of caring about each other.
We can decide that that is what Christmas is about.

• Experiences Make Us Happier Than Things, Research Says
• Decoupling Christmas From Spending
• Happy Winter Solstice — Light Is On The Way
• Christmas As Community (Not Stuff)
• Gift-Giving Tips From The Non-Consumer Advocate

I couldn’t agree more – it’s so easy to be enticed by high tech gadgets, but are they truly necessary? Do  electronic gadgets really add quality of life to life?

I absolutely will not get a Kindle. For one thing, my close friend works at Powell’s Books, and technology is obviously a big challenge for bookstores’ staying in business.  While Kindle’s are great for some people (who travel and don’t want to lug books), I just love the feel of a real book.  I like buying books second hand, using the library, swapping and sharing books, etc.

I had the same basic cell phone for 6 years, got teased for it, but it met my needs.  Hubby’s job required a smartphone (he travels a lot, needs the GPS, camera, navigation, etc).  We finally broke down and got smartphones.  I do appreciate the features, but definitely don’t use most of them!  Gotta admit, the navigation is one of the best things ever.

I buy second hand, too!  As much as possible – but still buying within limits. It’s very easy to get carried away there too.

• Is Zhang Yue A Diamond-Cut Businessman?
• World Made By Hand
• Decoupling Christmas From Spending
• More Important Than Osama bin Laden
• The Very Best Diet, Part III

I’m not a Luddite. I use technology constantly and gratefully, Diamond-Cut Life being a prime example (thank you, internet, for more than 95,000 hits to date).

But I still have, hold and love my dumb phone. No email or internet access, but my simple cell phone meets all my needs — as I define my needs.

I like to interact with people face to face. My second choice is voice to voice — which led me to be a fairly early adopter of cell phones back in 1998. I consider email a pretty paltry way to interact around anything except factual information. When nuance, emotion and personalities are involved, I pick up the phone — and am amazed that other people don’t do this more readily. Things get resolved so much faster voice to voice.

Let me give context.  While my paid work involves plenty of email, I’m not expected to access email remotely or (Goddess forbid) when I’m not working. My work is comprised of long-term projects and programs, without lots of imminent deadlines, and I’m sure this is a prime reason I don’t need an I phone, smart phone or other handheld device. I’m not a stockbroker, sales representative or realtor. Their technology needs are different from mine, and are driven by people’s expectations of their constant availability. With all respect,  I wouldn’t like their jobs.  As a program manager for the state of Oregon I’m responsive to people — but I’m not constantly available. I get back to people, and give them my full attention when I do.

What do the people around me think about my technology choices? Well, I’ve gotten no complaints from anyone about my availability as I eschew the smarter types of phones. My situation  may be increasingly unique, though I hope not. Teachers, for instance, who comprise the largest union in the U.S., are not expected to respond to email 24/7. They spend most of their time interacting face to face with people. A good use of time, highly impactful.

I do think  that whatever device we own and use has got to be well-designed. If we’re struggling to get devices to perform and meet our needs, we’ve become the machine’s servant rather than its master. I just say no to that scenario. I don’t think we say no often enough to machines and the latest permutation of devices and electronic inventions. They often distract us from things we know are more important to be doing, addictive video games being one example of such distraction.

My favorite blogger Tess Giles Marshall at Pilgrim’s Moon inspired this post.   I fully agree with Tess that we should all be doing critical thinking and careful consumption around the stuff we buy and use, especially electronics. Electronic devices shape how we think and interact with each other. I want to always pay more attention to people than to things. A more-than-basic cell phone would not move me in that direction. I’m not writing this in stone for the rest of my life, but for now I still love my dumb phone.

• Deb Speaks On Being A Critical Consumer
• Staycations: The No-Cost Phone Visit Vs. The Thousand-Dollar Trip
• Top Ten Tips For Entrepreneurs, Part II
• Grabbing Back Our Lost Opportunities
• A Little Help From My Friends, Please?

Speaking of dance, have you ever done Nia? (Colleen, I know you have, since I brought you!) It’s my favorite form of dance, very expressive and flowing. I went yesterday to a good Nia class led by Erin Marie at the East Portland Community Center. The  joy of Nia is part of the inspiration for my novel ‘Revelle’, (rhymes with gazelle), which is 82% complete. I’m currently finding an editor to help me polish it. Then I’ll self-publish it. My goal with Revelle is to give to at least 100 people the deep pleasure I’ve had many times in my life of a good book, a story that pulls you in, takes you out of yourself, and inspires you to meet the hard things in life with strength. I’ve been an avid consumer of books for decades now . . . time to give back by producing one.

New topic: Sue Staehli is one of the best dinner party guests I know. Not only does she insist on helping with the dishes (I never turn down offers like that one), but Sue has developed these cool, advanced communication skills that I want to emulate. Some background here is that Sue is the board president of Sisters Of The Road, an award-winning non-profit that supports people’s dignity while providing good meals in a homey cafe. After we had Sue and her sweetie David over for dinner last night, and played the UnGame (which stimulates great conversations and let me witness Sue’s skills) I slept soundly and had a luminous dream in which I was dialoguing, warmly and calmly, with the member of my family that I find the most hurtful and difficult. Note to self: hang out as often as possible with the friends I want to emulate.

And finally, back to the joy of physicality . . . While running on the west slope of Mt Tabor the crisp, clear morning after Thanksgiving, I remembered how exhilarated I felt doing the Hood To Coast run back in the late 90′s. Then I thought: I’d love to do Hood To Coast again — if the team I was on had shared values and lots of camaraderie. I immediately thought of Heather McCarey, my pal who loves to run and is the executive director of the Westside Transportation Alliance. I ended up leaving voicemails for her and two other transportation-options (TO) colleagues during the course of my run. Let’s see what they think of the idea of a Hood To Coast team of TO people. It’d be a great experience of community around a sport that’s usually solitary. The paradox in this case would be the intense amounts of driving involved in the event — when our profession is about minimizing driving whenever possible. But life involves paradox. I’m holding the idea lightly . . . while feeling my excitement.

• Hood To Coast
• Looking Ahead: Dancing & Singing On My 50th
• My New Job In Transportation Options
• Carpooling Is Cool
• The Poverty of Hyper-Individualism

Desperate is the polar opposite of grateful. Desperation is about fear, grasping, not having enough, and behaving compulsively.

Desperate is the word that leapt to my mind upon learning that many retailers are turning Black Friday into Black Thursday, starting their sales on Thanksgiving night instead of the day after Thanksgiving. Many retail employees are unhappy about losing a rare holiday with their families. If I were them I’d feel outraged. Wait: I’m not them, and I feel outraged anyway.

I suggest boycotting Black Thursday to show retailers, and ourselves, that we are not desperate to get more stuff for less money. Nor do we need bargains on the backs of workers who would like  to have  holiday time with their families like the rest of us.

In the deeper picture, beyond Black Thursday and Friday and Thanksgiving weekend, consider the possibility (and my opinion) that the U.S. is over-retailed altogether. I’ve seen research stating that 75% of our non-food retail purchases end up in landfill within six months. We need market transformation, so that our economy’s health does not depend on endless consumption of resources, but on good stewardship of resources. We should be measuring quality of life, rather than Gross Domestic Product. Research on happiness shows that joy is correlated with the number and quality of human relationships in our lives, not with the number and quality of TV’s, electronic gadgets, shoes or clothes we own.

The frenzy for more and cheaper stuff that Black Thursday represents cultivates our culture’s desperation, not our gratitude. Let’s  not go shopping tonight. Let’s be grateful for what we’ve already got at home, and support retail employees’ desire for Black Thursday, i.e. working on Thanksgiving, to not become the new normal.

• Death of Retail & Naked Ladies
• When More Is Actually Better
• About Getting Rich Slowly
• Deb’s Take On Happiness
• This And That, Approaching Thanksgiving