Friday, November 15, 2019

Sleeplessness


Sleeplessness
By Jeffrey Bowen  (November 2019)

I lie awake in darkness.
My mind discovers a life of its own.
Images roll in like waves,
And problems float to the surface
With help or hindrance
 From unpredictable characters.
Nothing is resolved, everything unraveling.

I remember my first night in this room,
Wrapped in a sleeping bag before we moved in.
The humming of the city still echoed,  
But out in the country
The silence was surround sound.
I could actually hear it.  
The dark was a disquieting cloak.  

Tonight a sweet tragic song from my teenage years  
Plays in my head like a scratched up 45.
I hear the words again and again
To a point where the record skips.
 I forget the lyric, but I know it rhymes.

As my night mind wanders,
I dream that I am never quite on time,
Never packed but urgently due somewhere.
I wander through familiar offices
But don’t really know where to go.
Often I meet the bastards who made life difficult.  

In the semi-dark I trace the shreds
Of cold snowlight peeping through the window corners.
The furnace comes to life.
The pipes creak as their water veins swell.  

The dog sighs and shifts positions.
 So do I.  
But there is little comfort as my shoulders
Complain to each other,
And my legs refuse to rest.

 A distant train gains volume
As it works it way from town to town
And then recedes as it always does on schedule.

I remember my preset.
imprinted long ago when I had to mind the weather.
Retirement never stops me from awakening
Precisely at 5 a.m.

But that is two hours away.
 So I lie in stillness half aware,
And I wait, then wait some more.  
The images, my urgent mission,
 My teenage angst, the furnace,  
And my strange dark life
Recycle as I shift and toss.

Then gradually, but without warning,
I disappear.
 Later I can never remember when.

Thursday, October 31, 2019


Life in A Paradoxical World
By Jeffrey M. Bowen

A paradox gets our attention because it upsets logic and expectations.   By definition, it states a proposition that seems self-contradictory, yet really expresses a possible truth.

Some examples are deceptively simple.   For instance, I could tell a friend that nobody goes to a particular restaurant because it is always too crowded.  A boy could be warned not to go near the water until he learns how to swim.  Or a parent might complain to a teacher, I know you haven’t taught my child anything because he hasn’t learned anything.  

 Various puzzlers can be found throughout literature, science, and religion.   In his classic Animal Farm, George Orwell tells us that “all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.” Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu makes us hesitate by saying, “If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.”  Historians explain how history repeats itself.  Still we selfishly manipulate the obvious.   In medicine, drugs we develop to reduce pain can cause death.  Ironically, we must invent other drugs to reverse our addictive demise.      

Revealing truths lie behind many of these apparent contradictions.   One tries to convince us that learning is a lost cause.  The more we learn the less we know.  What?  Should it not be the reverse?  Why would we spend billions of dollars and years educating ourselves to know less?

 The answer is that knowledge is endless.  The more we study to acquire and use it, the more we discover how much we don’t know.  Maybe this is why all of us should become lifelong learners.    

To continue with learning, common sense suggests that delving deeper into a topic and becoming a specialist is the best way to become an expert.   In some ways it certainly is.  When the pipes break, I want a plumber who really knows what they are doing.

 On the other hand, generalists excel as innovators and predictors of the future.  Those who build competencies across a wide range of fields as the world grows more complex can deduce their way to creative conclusions.  Too much knowledge may hamper versatility and ingrain fixed habits.

   Another paradox tempts us to think we are making progress toward some important goal because we are learning more and more about the method to get there.  Not so fast.  This conclusion is shaky for two reasons.

 First, we accumulate biases and misconceptions along the way, and as others regularly add new ideas to the mix, it becomes necessary to unlearn before we can learn.  By reorganizing or updating our knowledge base, we can clear our mindset and restart.

  A second problem is the tendency for goals to become our final destination.  Once achieved, we sort of forget about them.  The better approach, say experts, is to focus on habits.  They are self-renewing, and they compound themselves into lasting results.

Entire books are written about the paradoxes of health and medicine.  Unquestionably we are producing miracles by means of gene therapy, lifesaving drugs, and innovative diagnostic equipment.  But are we all victims of medical extortion?   We spend nearly a fifth of our gross domestic product on healthcare, amounting to $3 trillion annually.  On average, other countries spend half of what we spend per person, yet we deliver worse health care outcomes than any other developed country.  There are no easy political answers, but this much we know:  When profits trump compassion, we confront an unhealthy paradox.    

Budgetary reality also impinges on the field of education.   To illustrate, class size has been debated for years.  Reducing class size should verifiably improve student achievement using standardized measures.  It does, particularly when instructional methods are tailored to the change.  However, smaller classes require more teachers which is a comparatively expensive solution.  Besides, improvements in standardized test results are a suspicious measure of real learning.  As a result, debates about cost efficiency and effectiveness heat up during budget season.   

 Looking beyond these particular examples, our paradoxical world plays havoc with emotions.  One of my favorites is about loving because it tests our understanding of who or what we may try to control.  Think about this:  if you love someone, let them go.  If they return, they were always yours, and if they don’t, they never were. 


The Unity of Time

The Unity of Time
by Jeffrey Bowen

May the winds of spring remind you
Of the leaves that blew last fall,
And the summer sun send warmth
When winter gives you none at all. 

Let the seasons send a message
Write like patchwork on a quilt,
When squares are stitched together,
They show something more is built

With foresight to its purpose,
And beauty of design,
A scheme of vivid reasons
For the Unity of time.


The Social Inspiration That Came From Away


The Social Inspiration That Came From Away
By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Recently we attended an awe-inspiring musical titled “Come from Away”.  The play interprets the true 9/11 story of 7,000 jet passengers whose flights from abroad were diverted to and delayed for several days in the isolated rural community of Gander, Newfoundland. 

With the help of just a dozen actors and a few props, we felt the shock and uncertainty of the passengers, followed by the compassionate response of a community whose population had instantly doubled.         

The wonder of this play comes from of the way people connected with each other.   In the midst of tragedy, social bonds were forged by heart-warming cultural exchanges, unique celebrations, lifelong friendships, and eventually even a marriage.  Shared inspirations about how to solve practical problems seemed to ignite continuously.  

It does not take a crisis or a play to experience the healing power of the Gander phenomenon.  Our need to connect socially is just as compelling as our need for water and food.

 In the grocery store recently, I stood beside a lady who was looking over a display of apples.  She remarked, “You know, I have always loved the Granny Smith apples because they make the best pies.”  Suddenly this reminded me of the neglected, unpicked tree that stands in our back yard.  I told my fellow shopper, “Wow, thanks!  My mom made the best apple pies ever, without using a recipe, but my wife’s are even better.  I have this tree with big green apples, but for years we have never picked it.  Now I will!”  

My point is that every day, and everywhere we venture, there are connections waiting to be discovered.   Some involve people and relationships, while others are triggered by ideas.  The two types tend to cross paths.  The key is to create or at least respond to inviting circumstances.   By sharing ourselves, asking questions and listening, we open doors to understanding ourselves and others.  Wise decisions and choices usually follow.

Research on our brains strongly suggests that social pain caused by alienation or loneliness produces actual physical pain that can damage every aspect of our health.  By the same token, positive social contacts are intrinsically motivating and gain strength from exercise.  Uniquely, humans are able to focus on the thoughts and feelings of others.  Doing so produces a potent advantage when we collaborate on a common goal.

As a retired school executive, I have often reflected on the kinds of social connections that produce the best results for our school community.  Often they thrive in extracurricular activities where relationships can be less formal and teamwork is essential.  What is more, I have concluded the following:  newer teachers benefit immensely from a mentor or induction program; students learn best when they teach each other; and when we lock curriculum into separate disciplines, we discourage curiosity and creativity.  Interdisciplinary learning sparks connections.

 in a journal I maintained for several years, I combined these thoughts into a philosophy: “Academic learning is surely important, but no more so than the social and emotional learning needed to develop positive interpersonal relationships and to collaborate to solve problems and get things done.  School is a society.  We have to make it become a community for ourselves and our students.”     

In Gander, a sense of community prevailed.  The stranded passengers gratefully funded a scholarship for the children.   Their future education sets the stage, but ultimately our children’s success in life, and our own as well, takes root from the social lessons we witnessed in Newfoundland.  

Friday, October 11, 2019

How We Discovered the Real Treasures of France


How We Discovered the Real Treasures of France
By Jeffrey M. Bowen

  On a recent trip to France, my wife and I realized that its impressive places and works of art came alive when we took a closer look at the stories of their creators.   Here are three of those stories about people whose historical dimensions gave purpose to our travels.  

In May of 1770 a 14-year-old winsome teenager named Antoine was escorted to France by an entourage of 57 carriages and 376 horses.  Awaiting was her future husband, a 15-year-old named Louis, the king’s grandson and heir apparent to the throne.   Soon known formally as Marie Antoinette, the young Austrian beauty had ash-blond hair, grayish blue eyes, and a radiant complexion.  She was lighthearted, frivolous and extravagant.  The public immediately embraced her like a latter-day rock star.   

Before long Marie learned how to celebrate wealth.  She thrived on the social whirl while her subjects increasingly suffered from high taxes and poor harvests.  Nor did she understand her public’s growing demand for democracy.  Although she never did say “Let them eat cake”, Marie was rather unfairly vilified and blamed for her country’s bankrupt treasury.  Just 23 years after her coronation, France’s last queen was publicly humiliated, beheaded and thrown into a commoner’s grave.   By 1793 her fairy tale became a tragedy beset by revolution.

  Nearly a century later, as the centennial celebration of that revolution neared, a unique wrought iron framework was taking shape on the city’s military parade ground of Paris.  Nowadays known as the Eiffel Tower, the so-called Iron Lady was roundly denounced as ugly, oversized, and likely to collapse.   Few believed it would be permanent.  But its talented designer, Gustav Eiffel, insisted the 984-foot tower would stand strong against the winds of time and serve as an enduring tribute to his country’s economic and technological rejuvenation.  Tragically, in the next century the limits of that renewal would be sorely tested twice in world wars.
     

 Gaston Huet was one of thousands of French and British soldiers trapped between Hitler’s Wehrmacht and the sea at the northwestern corner of France in May of 1940.   His home was the Loire Valley, and his lifelong commitment was to his vineyard in Vouvray.  Both would become an impossible dream over the next five years as Huet and his mates tried to survive in a POW camp for 4,000 officers in Silesia, Germany. 



After returning starved and near death from the war, Huet’s first words were, “The vines, what about the vines?” This legendary vintner went on to become one of France’s greatest winemakers as well as the mayor of Vouvray for 46 years.

The story of Gaston Huet reflects the extraordinary survival of French wines and vineyards despite the stubborn efforts of the Nazis to steal, secretly store, or transport back to Germany millions of bottles of the yields of France.   However, by sealing their precious wines behind brick walls in cellars, burying them underground in family gardens, and storing them in caves, or as a last recourse diluting them and giving Nazis the dregs, the French winemakers preserved their best wines for posterity.     

  France’s love for wine grapes is unquenchable.  Today the country produces
seven billion bottles annually across seven different wine-producing regions.  Rules for growing are strictly enforced by the state so that top quality is preserved.  Anyone who travels the rural roads of France, just as we did on our trip, must come away believing that vineyards and wine are the heart and soul of France.

Our trip included dining in Paris on the lower platform restaurant of the Eiffel Tower.  Coincidentally, the restaurants and elevators above us were closed due to 50 mile-per-hour gales.  Even though we felt a slight sway, we silently thanked Gustav Eiffel for building a monument that welcomes the winds.    

Finally, our visit to the City of Light would have been incomplete without a visit to Versailles, which is really comprised of the palace, gardens, and on the same grounds just outside the city, a magical chateau called the Petit Trianon.  This Disney-like fantasy land was really Marie Antoinette’s private domain, given by her husband as a hideaway.  There she and her companions could isolate themselves from the prying eyes of the hoi polloi and enjoy magnificent décor, musical plays, and a unique hamlet with quaint cottages, ponds, and endless flower gardens.  Marie and her friends loved the idea of pretending to farm.  

Our trip reached beyond the stunningly elaborate décor of Versailles, the dominating Iron Lady of Paris, and miles of vineyards.  No question, the sheer natural beauty of the landscape and cultural sites were a delight.   But our experience was more deeply enriched by characters who told us their stories.   The individuals I have introduced -- Marie Antoinette, Gustav Eiffel, and Gaston Huet – embody the destinies, accomplishments, and fates that reflect the real treasures of France.  


Thursday, August 22, 2019

Introverts Face Challenges in an American World of Extroverts


Introverts Face Challenges in an American World of Extroverts
By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Are you an extrovert, introvert, or somewhere in between?  Your personality type dictates a likely answer. Each type has a particular way of interacting with the world, acquiring information, and deriving energy from their surroundings.  Neurological studies suggest that our hard wiring has lots to do with it.  To be sure, neither style is wrong.  They are just different.      

At one end of the spectrum is the extrovert, typically said to have a dynamic and positive personality. These people are energized by the external environment and tend to be gregarious, sociable, assertive, and comfortable in the spotlight.  Risk takers and quick decision makers, they enjoy team efforts.

 At the other end of the spectrum are introverts.  They enjoy alone time and are more introspective.  Typically serious and quiet, their strengths include independent thinking and listening.  Although they often make excellent scientists, artists, or writers, their contributions may be overlooked because they avoid attention and prefer to stay to themselves.

Why is it important to recognize and account for the differences between extroverts and introverts?   The dominant American “culture of personality” definitely rewards extroverts, but since at least a third of us are introverted to some extent, the traditional social demands of daily life in this country can be stressful, exhausting, and a cause of low self-esteem and guilt.   

 Our bias toward extroverted personalities is obvious in worlds of media entertainment, organizations and business, and quite dramatically in national politics.  In her best-selling book Quiet (2012), Susan Cain explains how Dale Carnegie and Toastmasters have historically promoted extroversion a trainable skill.  Terms like “smoozing”, being a go-getter, selling yourself and thinking on your feet are prized in the American business world.    

Introverts find it difficult to act this way. Social anxiety disorder is a term doctors use to describe their fears.  In particular, fear of public speaking is considered by many second only to dying.  Deep roots can be found in school settings.  Curriculum may be differentiated, but progress toward goals depends greatly on group projects, presentations, and social relationships.  Social and emotional learning may seem effortless for extroverts, but the teamwork it demands can literally sap the energy of introverts.

 Of course, there are ways to overcome this, for example by encouraging individual initiatives and independent down time.  Many educators and organizational leaders are realizing that this practice helps everyone, including extroverts, become more imaginative and creative.  

Let me hasten to caution that introversion and extroversion lie on a continuum.  Different situations produce different outcomes.  Thus many introverts who prefer quiet evenings at home with family or a couple of very close friends become adept at creating an extroverted persona that appeals to a large circle of colleagues at work.

Besides adaptability, complementary relationships show winning results.  When one partner is an introvert, and the other an extrovert, if they adjust to one another’s habits and preferences, and communicate openly, the dynamic can be productive.  Famous examples include Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt, Barack and Michelle Obama, and Steve Jobs with Steve Wozniak as co-founders of Apple, Inc.

Are extroverts happier and more successful as leaders?  The answer may depend on the strength of an individual’s self-confidence, the context, and in the eyes of the beholder as well.  Analyses of business leader styles suggest a lean toward extroverts, while recognizing that both types can be very capable and effective.

Extroverted leaders thrive in a group of people and make immediate connections and friendships.  They tend to be quickly decisive.  They may be strongly committed to causes and vocal about it, so passion counts.  However, as Susan Cain points out, “There’s zero correlation between being the best talker and having the best ideas.”

On the other hand, introverted leaders can be great listeners and thus may be more approachable.  Their style encourages employee loyalty, and they get lots of work done.  Introverts are socially sensitive and may be insightful when conflicts arise and arbitration is needed.

In short, there is no ideal personality when we try to relate to one another.  We are bound to encounter every variation in school, work, or life.  What matters the most is accepting your predispositions and building on the strengths they represent.      

     


Keep Your Emotions in Perspective


 Keep Your Emotions in Perspective
By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Do emotions control our decisions?  At times they can.  My first reaction to many situations is how I feel about it.  I think this is only human.  Remember Spock from Star Trek?  His stone-faced lack of emotion originated from another planet.   This came in handy in emergencies, but it drove the volatile human Dr. McCoy (Bones) to distraction.

 Bones had a point.   Real-world life without emotion is impossible.  Neuroscientists and other experts agree that perceptions, reactions, and motivation are shaped by our emotional presets.   When exposed to certain situations repetitively, we experience emotions that become habitual predispositions.  Often these become a lifelong feature of our identity.

To illustrate, in high school I was fortunate to compete in many speech contests.  Having an audience and getting positive reinforcement produced an memorable emotional high.   Accordingly, I chose a career that depended on public speaking.  Standing before a group, I always felt an adrenaline rush, but never fear.

On the other hand, years ago, a long period of river flooding caused a massive bridge on the state thruway to collapse without warning, drowning several families.   I get a creepy feeling every time we cross that bridge.   Similar mishaps, dramatized by media photos of cars teetering on the edge, stoke my fears of unrepaired bridges.      

When emotions galvanize action and are purposeful, they can be quite productive.   Anger, for instance, can prompt us to join a political campaign, while love may nurture caring and forgiveness.   The problem is that fears driven by negative experiences leave lasting emotional scars.

 My wife’s anxiety about moving is linked back to the seven disruptive times her family had to move when she was a child.   My own fear of boating in the fog derives from my dad’s terrifying nautical habits.   As for high school algebra, I won’t even go there.   Although reason and logic may temporarily overrule such fears, our emotions embed themselves in our views of the world.  Bad judgment and bias, mental or physical illness can result.

Why is this apt to happen?  In his current best seller, “Factfulness”, Dr. Hans Rosling stunningly documents how instant news coverage sets off alarm bells.  Journalists and activists typically focus on bad news.   Even though reported violent crimes in the U.S. have declined by about six million since 1990, the media mission to report worst case scenarios makes us feel just the opposite.

 We don’t stop to think that natural disasters, plane crashes, murders, nuclear leaks, and terrorism explain only a tiny proportion of deaths annually, compared to causes dominated by diseases, infections, and strokes.   Yes, the big causes are serious, but we confuse imminent danger with fear.  Despite minimal odds of exposure, we stress more about spider, snake, and shark bites than most anything else.    

The paradox of all this emotional upheaval is the plentiful factual information available to counteract our sense of crisis.  Dr. Rosling marvels that our data-based knowledge of world trends is worse than random guesses by chimpanzees.   Of course bad things happen out there, but in recent years virtually every indicator of our social, economic, physical and psychological health has dramatically improved.

 Our depressing insistence that the “world is going to hell in a hand basket” stems from the fact that we persist in remaining ignorant, misremember the past, or cling to outdated knowledge  in a world that is changing much faster than we realize.  I live in the present, but my data biases are locked in the 1950s and 60s.

Emotional control responds to strategies of mindfulness.  Here are a few suggestions that might help:
Ø  Avoid the “chicken little” trap.  Remind yourself in any stressful situation, it is unlikely that the sky is really falling.
Ø  Step back and don’t rush to resolve emotional situations.  Give them time to resolve themselves.
Ø  Blame bad situations on a gremlin, especially small emotional hassles.  Gremlins are always hovering about.  Displace blame in ways that don’t do harm to others.
Ø  Don’t fight your emotions.  Identify them, and apply reason of course, but denying the emotions just makes those worse.
Ø  Remember that your emotions are influenced by your past and often misremembered experiences.  These tend to become your vulnerabilities.   Accept this, and remain alert to it. Your emotions are you.
Ø  Practice reading other people’s emotions as it will attune you to your own.
Ø  Go to your happy place, get a good night’s sleep, put food on your stomach (especially ice cream), and remember intently those people who made you feel good, and just when that was.

Accept emotions as a big feature of life.  When we realize that our feelings are more about us than anyone else, we can change them.  On balance, we live in a world that is improving all the time.  Let’s feel good about it.