Author: Gayle Catinella

One of my distractions is to play backgammon on my phone. We all have our games, right? And this is not my only one, but it is my go-to game. I like playing this for two reasons. First, whether you win or lose, you always get to start over again. There is always another chance. And also, losing doesn’t hurt anyone. Who cares if I win or lose. It isn’t for a horse or a cow, as my ex-husband used to say.

I also have learned something about myself. I will admit to you that I don’t like to lose. I am stubborn, and I like to get my way. I can’t help but think, when I am losing, that the game is rigged. There is no way that my digital opponent could possibly get exactly the role that they needed to beat me in that exact moment if it wasn’t rigged, right? Of course I don’t feel that way when it happens to me, and if I am being fair, this happens at about the same rate for me and my opponent. 

So I use the game to help me handle losing more gracefully, or at least better. There is no one to resent. It also helps motivate me, because after a losing streak I don’t want to play anymore, and I get out of the chair and do something that needs to be done, like the dishes. 

In life there is plenty of winning and losing, but it seems to me that the stakes for winning or losing have never been higher. The level of anxiety on every side of every issue just seems so much more pressing, so much more weighty. And this has increased our collective anxiety, to the point where many of us are having trouble controlling it, trouble sleeping, uncertainty about what to do next. 

We need some solid coping skills here, because this generalized anxiety is going to be around for at least a few more months. So how do we manage this, and our emotions that feel like they are constantly swirling with hurricane force? How do we stay healthy in the midst of a pandemic of disease and dis-ease?

Start with the low hanging fruit—exercise, healthy food, enough rest. Make choices about how much news or Facebook you will consume each day. List some practical things you can accomplish to help you feel like you are making a difference. Sit down when you are really stressed and play a few games of backgammon.

I also think it is critical to count the loving and respected people in your life. Notice the good things that are happening. Broaden your scope, your view of the world. It can feel like its all bad if you aren’t careful about balance. Not that you shouldn’t be informed, and…look at the big picture. There are a lot of really exceptional people doing exceptional things.  Count your own blessings too. Perspective is critical right now. 

I don’t know what will happen in November. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Whatever it is I want to be in the best position possible to be a sign of love and hope and kindness in the world. We need to be our best selves right now. Pray for that!

These last few days have been so frustrating!  I sent in two grant applications that weren’t received so I have to start again, I had to wrestle with the copier and I lost, my bank messed up some automatic payments, our new secretary started and has to be trained (she is great but doesn’t know our particularities yet), and why is the water in my kitchen sink so slow?  I am afraid to start anything for fear of the next disaster. And then there is Covid…

These are all first world problems. There are no impending natural disasters and my life is actually filled with good things. But the question I have been wrestling with is how this frustration at little things enflames the big things that are happening in the world. And if the little things are getting me mad, what would happen if there was a big thing?

I see the anger on the news each day. People protesting, people rioting. I read that 93% of all protests are peaceful, but they aren’t what we see covered by the media. We see the raw anger, we see people stirring up trouble. And we can all agree that destroying a small business doesn’t solve the problem. 

However I have been wondering how I would respond if my child was murdered, or if my body was altered without my consent, or if my child was taken away from me for no reason. I would be furious. What would I do? What would you do?

It is easy to judge another’s anger, another’s rage. It is also easy to be scared by it. So much harder to try to sit for a moment in the desperation and extreme grief that would cause someone to legitimately lose control. (I am not talking about troublemakers trying to tarnish one side or another.) 

Jesus got so mad he flipped the tables. Not every time he got mad. And that doesn’t make it right. But what would it take for me to flip the tables?  What would it take for you?  Maybe we need to open our hearts to that level of pain, just to try to understand. Maybe if we cared enough about why violence was happening, it wouldn’t be necessary. 

I spent a lot of time thinking about whether I should write anything this week. Recent revelations in the news have made me angrier. And I had to really pray about the actual message here, because the anger is so fierce and the feeling of betrayal so raw. I have spent the last four years advocating nonviolence and kindness and dialogue, and the Gospel this week is on forgiveness. You hate to ruin all of that good effort in one reckless blog.

So I decided that this is my message this week: vote. Make sure your name is on the voter rolls, and if not register. Plan your strategy and give yourself enough time to make sure it is effective. Talk to people about voting. Offer a ride to the polls to someone who is homebound. Voting is the duty of all citizens. 

Democracy requires active commitment, showing up, participation. We cannot abdicate our responsibility. We cannot trust others to represent us accurately. We need to speak the truth and our conscience, with kindness but without fear. 

All I can say is, vote.

I am reading YA (young adult) novels to pick one for our next book discussion, curated by one of our middle school teachers. I was hoping we could have more of an intergenerational representation, help our young people to feel included. And it expands my view of what is going on. I really don’t have any young adults in my home any more. So listening is important.

The first book I read was about a tragic event that included a Black teenager and a White genderqueer person. The book I am reading now is about a Latina teenager. Both detail the struggles of daily life, the challenges, the stereotypes, the cruelty, the imperfect families. And, the strengths, the friendships and support, the intelligence, and the resilience. 

I am deeply moved and disturbed by how hard life is for young people. So complicated, so tricky. Maybe it has always been that way. I think back to my own advantaged, protected, imperfect but mostly safe teen years. I made some significant mistakes. But my context was such that I could survive them, learn from them, become more certain of who I want to be from them. My context was such that one bad choice wasn’t the end of hope. 

The uncertainties and bad examples of our time only complicates the world of young adults. My GenX/Boomer view might be that they have it easy, that adulthood is harder. It is easy to judge when you don’t know. I think these days we all have it hard.

Just as I have been encouraging the church to reach beyond its comfort zone in terms of race and economic status, we have to expand our knowledge and acceptance of young people. They are challenged and tested in ways we can’t imagine and so they bring a wisdom we need to hear. They will call us when we are hypocritical, and might be bored by our predictability. But they have told me they value experience, they value everyone’s story, and they want safe and accepting community. 

The Body of Christ is a body of love, compassion and inclusion. Let’s be sure we are including all people in our vision of that, because God is.

My oldest grandson has started Kindergarten. We have been anticipating this for a while: taking him out to buy scissors and crayons, talking about learning to read as a necessary prelude to becoming a paleontologist, giving tips for riding the bus. Of course, no one knew exactly how school would be until last week, and now we know it is in person. And so I am terrified, even as I deeply respect the hard decisions everyone has had to make. 

I called him after his first day. Grandma, he said, there is a huuuuge playground, and we got to go twice to play!!! Twice Grandma!!! As he showed me his dinosaur lunchbox, it was clear that recess will be his favorite class. His innocent excitement warmed my heart. His parents have done a great job managing anxiety and promoting things that are helpful, like wearing a mask and liberal use of sanitizer.

As I come to terms with the pros and cons of in school learning it is clear to me that the only way it will work is if everyone, and I mean everyone, cooperates. If everyone wears a mask, if everyone stays home when they are sick, if everyone washes hands regularly, and all the other precautions. I ask myself how I can be sure that everyone in that school will see my grandson as precious, will see him as I see him—irreplaceable.

But I also have to acknowledge that this pandemic is wearing on me. I am grateful that I no longer have to wash my groceries and I am reasonably assured that take out for supper is OK. I also know that I used to disinfect my house every day and I don’t do that now. I am a relentless mask wearer, but many times I get out of the car and realize half way to my destination that I have forgotten the mask in the car and have to give myself a pep talk to walk back to get it. I am not as careful, not as sharp, even though I know we haven’t even made it out of Phase 1. 

So now I have a new focus, and that is my grandson. I use him to remember that everyone is someone’s grandson, that everyone is precious to someone. It motivates me to remember to be cautious, to socially distance, to not take chances with other people’s lives or my own. I have to rely on people in Indiana, where my little guy lives, to protect him. And it is hard for me, really hard, to trust them. And I remember that someone from Indiana, or wherever, is trusting me, counting on my behavior to protect their beloved. 

Maybe it is an occupational hazard that I see death a lot, I see illness a lot. I see the devastation of loss on a regular basis. And senseless loss is the worst. It is senseless loss when our loved ones and neighbor’s get sick because someone else couldn’t bother to be careful. We must rely on science. We must be proactive in our precautions. We can’t let our guard down. COVID 19 is real, it is deadly and it has killed 170,000 in our country as of this writing. 

You don’t know my grandson. He is amazing. Please wear a mask, practice safety, and invest yourself intentionally in the common good.

I am saddened by the lack of civility in our country. I realize that it shouldn’t surprise me. I should be used to it, if not immune. But it still catches me by surprise sometimes, like a stubbed toe. You are not expecting pain, but suddenly it is there. 

The other day, the Governor of Ohio was thought to have tested positive with Covid. There were people who expressed sorrow and offered prayers. And there were people who gloated and poked fun. “See how far wearing masks got him”. So unnecessary.

First a reminder: I do not wear masks to protect myself from you. I wear masks to protect you from me. It doesn’t stop me from getting the infection unless everyone wears one. By wearing a mask I am making a statement about my care for the common good, my willingness to be temporarily inconvenienced because other people matter to me. That a priest or a governor would wear a mask is also good leadership, modeling healthy and appropriate behavior. Honoring science. 

If you are a follower of Jesus, you are fueled by compassion. You love your neighbor as you would the person most precious to you. You do not hold up people’s pain or misfortune to mock them. You pray for their good, their health, their family. If you don’t like someone, you strive to learn to love them. And you are always gracious. 

Now I know that I am not always like that, so I don’t expect perfection from anyone else. I get mad, I say mean things, I judge. The point is not to be perfect, it is to strive to be our best selves. So I understand when people get snarky on Facebook, but I don’t like it or appreciate it.

Let’s try especially hard as political tensions heighten to stay focused on issues, to debate substance, and to treat even people we do not like with kindness. Let’s remember that it isn’t about me, doing what I want, getting my way or being right. It’s about compassion and love. And that takes practice, practice, practice.

When my son Phil was about 8, his elementary school started a wrestling club. He and his brothers were interested so we signed them up. It was right after school and I would watch them practice when I could. I always saw the same thing. 

At the start of the practice the coach would demonstrate whatever he wanted them to learn, and then broke them up into smaller groups and had them work on the new skill. When I watched Phil, he would always lose the first round, and then he would pin that person the second time around in about a minute. Then the opponent would win, and then Phil would win. It was clear that Phil was almost always the better wrestler by far, and not just because I am his mother. But he would always let the opponent win as much as he did.

As I caught on to what was actually happening I casually mentioned to Phil that this was not how it was supposed to go. You know, winning was the point. And he would just smile, like I had a lot to learn. His gentle generosity has always been a moving example for me, and I am grateful for it.

In so many ways right now, winning seems to be the most important thing. There are no concessions, and very little discussion.  You either agree with me or you are wrong, and if you disagree with me enough, I will block you and find an opinion more to my liking. Our country has lost its ability to listen with reasonable respect. We have lost the center and live in the extremes, and it is literally killing us. 

What I find most disheartening is the binary view that there are nice people or not nice people, good people or bad people. We see this represented in the choice to wear masks, how you imagine the future of policing, or views on racism. Depending on your point of view, you are good and the other person is bad. And we can’t seem to get past that. 

I know people who hold views and make choices very different from my own. I know they are good people who do good things in the world. The blessing of knowing them is the reminder that there are not just two choices, good and bad, right and wrong, my way or the highway. I see that they are wonderful parents, generous to the community, kind to elders, reading the same book I am reading. I see that there are more potential connections than I might have realized but only because I looked past what we disagree on. 

But we have to look, I have to want to find this connection and respect. It is certainly easier to say that they are “them” and dismiss them as tragically mislead. I am not saying that we have to then come to an agreement on everything. I will probably not change my position much. That isn’t the goal. The goal is respect and seeing good in everyone and believing in the good in everyone. The goal is the possibility of compromise and civility in a world that is desperate for just that. Maybe the goal is staying in a conversation for more than a few minutes. 

Here is the bottom line, it doesn’t matter who wins in November if we don’t do the work of becoming a democracy again. A democracy where everyone is valued, where everyone has a right to their own opinion, where the common good is our goal, where we don’t have to agree but we have to take care of each other. If we don’t do this, we will continue this freefall into selfishness and worship of our individual rights that can only lead to violent tyranny. 

So how do we do this? We listen more than we talk, we don’t dismiss people because we know they are different. We hold to a standard of kindness and compassion that moves us past judgement. But mostly we have conversations that are specifically about finding what we share and value, finding the connections. There is a deep bond that is created when we listen to someone’s story. 

I am tired of the hatred, tired of the meanness, tired of the cruelty. I am ready to listen. Tell me your story. There is more to be done, but we can start there. 

If you are my Facebook friend you saw a post today about home repair. A branch fell on my electrical line which pulled the line and some siding away from my house. The electric company said I needed an electrician. The electrician replaced the insulator and said the electric company had to cut back branches. The electric company came, removed branches, but wouldn’t fix the box. The electrician said I needed a line man with a bucket truck. The electric company said OK but then took 10 days to come. In the meantime it rained and stormed and I think there might be bees. 

So in normal times this is a first world problem, and you deal with it, and it gets done. But these are not normal times. These are times where frustration is already through the ceiling, where we are feeling pretty helpless anyway, where every little thing feels so much bigger than it is. Plus it is dangerous!!

I cannot say that my response was always perfect, but I will tell you the three coping mechanisms I used to get through this without resorting to the coping mechanisms that are not so healthy.

First, I was unfailingly polite. I know that how I behaved toward others is important to me. I am judgmental about that, I admit it. And most of the people I talked to are not in charge of what happens. So I was kind while explaining just how frustrated or anxious I was. And people responded to that kindness consistently far above my expectation. Kindness not only makes me feel good about myself, it brings positive results.

Second, I took a gratitude moment. I have a lot to be thankful for. A lot. And even in the midst of this ongoing problem I never lost my power (electrical power and otherwise). So when I started despairing, I made myself say 10 things I am grateful for, and then 10 more for good measure. It is a reality check to realize how very blessed you really are. There are many more blessings than anything else 

Finally, I accomplished something. In other words, I took control where I could. Maybe I cleaned the kitchen or emptied a drawer or finished a book or called a friend. I did something concrete that gave me, an admitted overachiever, a sense of accomplishment.  I could point to a good result and feel a bit better. 

You probably have your own ways of positive coping. Just be aware of them, practice them, make them a habit. Health doesn’t just happen, we have to practice it. Take very good care of yourselves and behave in ways that help you to know how wonderful you are!!

It has seemed to me lately that my dining room/office/window to the world is getting smaller and smaller. So it was with great relief that I took a few days last week to meet some friends at an AirBnB we rented in the middle of nowhere in southern Ohio.  This was vacation pandemic-style. Essentially trading one room for another. But the standard that I measured all choices by was, Is it my dining room?  And no, it was not. Plus it was great to talk to people in three dimensions instead of always by Zoom.

We did everything we could to be safe. We disinfected when we got there, we brought our own food and cooked most of our own meals. I brought my own pillow cases. It was almost comical what choices we made to protect ourselves. And it was great. Really a nice few days.

I was a little surprised the second afternoon that all I really wanted to do was nap. I was so tired. We were all yawning a lot, and had several conversations about how weary we were. Pandemics and radical social change are definitely exhausting. So we napped, which was helpful. However, I am still tired, and no amount of napping or sleeping a good number of hours seems to take care of it.

I think this has to do with grief, and anxiety, and helplessness. The heat doesn’t help either. But mostly, this is emotional. So let’s be honest. We are all feeling weary, all tired of the current status quo, all acknowledging that even if we had energy there isn’t the usual options for expressing it. We are all struggling. 

So take care of yourself. Safely, intentionally, in a heathy way, take care of yourself. This isn’t the time for overachievement. This is a time for steady, reasonable self-care. Don’t feel guilty about it, just do it. We have to see this as the marathon that it is. Take good care of yourself!  

I will be praying for you!!

When I was a kid, we visited my Polish Grandma regularly. My Dad wasn’t always with us but when he was, he would make a Polish joke, as in how dumb they were or something like that. He had a rotating list of choices, and we could tell, every time, that my Grandma hated it. Hated it. I think my Dad knew that too.

Whenever that happened my Mother would turn to whichever of her children were present and say, you know why they call those Christmas lights Italian lights (my Dad was Italian), and we were expected as part of the drama, to say no, why? And she would say, they aren’t too bright. We knew my Dad could hear that but he never acknowledged it.

Every family has their banter. Every family knows what buttons to push and how to irritate each other. But there is a deeper lesson here that I am only recently aware of, a socialization of behavior that is hard to pinpoint if you aren’t looking. We were being asked to choose. To pick what part of our heritage was better. We were being taught that there was a better choice and that there was a certain power and reward behind making it.

The immediate power as a child was recognizing which parent to side with in the moment. Who could make our life easier and who could make it harder? Do you side with the victor or the underdog? There are consequences to both. 

But long term, we learn to see ourselves as good, powerful, better than others. We learn to be individuals, successfully crafted into an ideal. We learn that others are not like us, and that makes them less than us, and sometimes a threat. Us and them. Good and bad. We create a binary world where there isn’t a lot of neutral, not a lot of gray.

I think this is the root of a lot of our social problems. We don’t know how to create a world where everyone is good, welcome and equal. We are afraid to be less than the best, less than perfect, and so we need people who can be less than us. We don’t know how to build community where everyone is regarded for who they are and not expected to become something, This binary world of winners isn’t real. But it is killing us. Please pray about how we can heal from this false learning and become a Body of Christ that values all its parts as beloved.