In Kansas City a crowd gathered at J.C. Nichols fountain to share their concern about our food industry with fellow residents and to join in with millions of others marching today in protest against the GMO giant Monsanto. Here are some pictures from the days event. To learn more about Monsanto and the dangers of GMOs click here or begin your own internet search for the truth, you won’t catch it on any television broadcast.
“Saturday is going to be a busy day,” I acknowledged to my husband. We had just put my daughter to sleep and shared a moment to reconnect about the day and the weekend plans to get together with friends. “First the march and then the barbecue.” I finished.
“The march?” He frowned looking at me unsure of the reference.
“The March Against Monsanto,” I replied with equal questioning, wondering how he could have missed these plans.
“What’s Monsanto?” He asked, growing the frustration inside of me. First he was unaware of the March and now claimed no recollection of the company either?
“Monsanto? Really, you haven’t heard of it?” I said shaking my head in disappointment. “They are the largest distributer of GMOs.”
“Uh, what’s GMO?”
Exacerbated by the conflict in his love of cooking and his complete lack of food knowledge, “Genetically Modified Organisms.” I said just waiting to hear the next ignorant statement.
“Oh, that’s a good thing. I’m for GMOs.” And there is was, the uninformed opinion of a typical American food consumer. And so the purging of education on the food industry, Monsanto and GMOs began.
We all have to eat and we have the right to know where it comes from and how it gets to our table. Our health and lives depend on it and we need to be able to trust it is safe. However, as so many industries in the United States and the world are, this is a business of making a profit even if it means sacrificing the quality of the product. When it comes to consuming food, we need quality products.
Defense during the Vietnam War. Monsanto claimed it a safe means to defoliate the dense forest and prevent guerrillas from using it as their cover. The direct result was over 500,000 children born with birth defects and the Vietnam Red Cross estimates up to one million individuals are disabled or have health problems related to Agent Orange. A clear example of putting profits before ethics. 
A recent study published in The Food & Chemical Toxicology Journal used trace levels of Roundup in the water supply of lab animals, deemed safe and appropriate by the FDA and USDA. Rats developed large tumors, suffered premature deaths and organ damage. Other animals demonstrated reproductive failure including smaller/fewer offspring, great rates of infant mortality and even hair growing in mouths. For more on this click here. 
plans to be at a March, there are 372 taking place around the world and in a city near you. If you are in Kansas City the March Against Monsanto will be starting from JC Nichols Fountain at 1:00pm at the Plaza. For a list of cities click here. Tell your friends they must be there too.
Sometimes the world can be overwhelming with tears, fears and frustrations. War, controversy, politics, violence, injustice and natural disasters all happening simultaneously.
Consuming so much negativity is detrimental to our minds, bodies and relationships with each other. The terror of all that is bad can be paralyzing, and yet in the time spent worrying we miss so many opportunities to smile, appreciate the positive and truly live.
It is a difficult balance to not be apathetic about problems, while not allowing the problems to consume us. How can we work to improve the world without the circumstances of the world delivering us to a rotten place?
It starts with keeping a smile.
Social media has become an inspiring platform for communication. Sharing ideas, news, opinions, supportive words and all the random humor you never knew you needed. People who engage in social media whether it’s Facebook, Tumblr, LinkedIn, Twitter or blogging are instantly empowered to persuade others. The power in this is phenomenal, no more do we have to rely on mass media to report a story through their carefully prepared lens, when it’s being tweeted live or video footage streaming on YouTube. Of course discretion is necessary too, the cliché yet true statement of “you can’t believe everything you read on the internet,” is valid. People can use lies and deceit to influence others, we know this happens on and off the internet.
There are no limits to the tools social media can provide in advancing our society, improving awareness and protecting each other around the world. There are no limits, except the ones we put on ourselves and each other.
In the last few weeks I have noticed an increasing number of friends and family who have voiced complaints about what others have shared on mass media. “Oh my God, she posts so many baby pics it makes me sick.” “I can’t stand all of the religious crap people share, if I wanted to hear it I would go to church.” “I don’t get on Facebook for political arguments, I just want to catch up with family and friends.” And the statements could go on and on…
You have choices when it comes to social media, what are you going to do?
We are confronted with things we are irritated by on a daily basis, you can let yourself suffer by what you read from your crazy conservative college buddy, or what your boyfriend’s cousin thinks of animal welfare? Suffering is always an option. You can stew about it, let it put you in a foul mood and begin to question humanity wondering for hours about how someone could be so ignorant. You might even try to influence their point of view by initiating an argument, which almost always reinforces the person’s initial perspective and puts them in a position to like you less.
If what someone says is bothersome to you, what you see is repulsive or the information conflicts with every ounce of your ethics maybe it’s time to take measures to spare your sanity.
The final option you have when it comes to coping with social media posts is to accept you cannot control how other people think, what is important to them and how they want to share their opinions. If you don’t like what someone has to say, keep scrolling.
And if there are posts you are seeing which are upsetting to you, it could mean you need to do some self exploration. Find out what is upsetting about it, why are you bothered and is there knowledge you need to gain to settle the discomfort. In some instances, suffering leads to knowledge, activism and social change necessary to improve our world. Would Martin Luther King Jr. or Mother Teresa be posting pictures of kittens if they were alive today?
The Warrior Dash is a 5K race with various obstacles along the way including hurdling fire, crawling through mud and climbing ropes. In Kansas City, this years race happened to fall on a weekend after a week with several inches of April showers so the track was extra muddy. The weekend remained overcast and the temperatures unseasonably cold. And while no running activity is ever appealing to me, a group of friends convinced me to do the dash last year. It turned out to be a ridiculously messy adventure to which we all agreed we might need a little more conditioning to actually appear somewhat fit to do it again.
What was I thinking – I don’t run, I thought as my friend Jeanne tried to cheer me on and push me to not stop until we got to the next obstacle. Never in my life did I think I would be pleased to fall into a pit of mud or go wading into a murky pond, yet on that day we were like pigs on a farm needing relief from the heat. Toward the end I was so exhausted I could hardly push my body weight over the logs I was attempting to hurdle, just as the fit and fast people from the next wave time effortlessly leapt past me. Jeanne pushed and pushed me until I finally convinced her to run ahead and I’d meet her at the end/ As soon as she was out of sight I pondered if anyone would notice if I laid down to take a nap on the side of the track.
This year my friends all signed up again, and my best intentions to learn to run and build muscle for climbing, I did not prepare at all. Fortunately or unfortunately, I dropped my plans to participate after dealing with the flu days before hand. This year I went as a cheerleader/photographer, maybe next year I will be trained and ready to run.
My fanatically clean friend called me up a few days before she was scheduled to run the Warrior Dash. She planned to run it this year for the first time and had an important question needing an answer.
“Do you have to donate your shoes?” Crystal, asked. While the answer is no, I explained most people do throw their shoes in the suggested piles after running. The shoes are cleaned up and given to charity, while registration fees contribute to St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital. “I just got rid of all my old tennis shoes,” she stressed. Despite knowing the Warrior Dash was scheduled soon, she couldn’t control her compulsive decluttering.
“Well at least when it’s over you will have something to clean,” I optimistically suggested assuming this might appease someone who finds so much pleasure in cleaning.
“Oh no, that’d be too messy.” She reported her husband will be responsible for washing her tennis shoes after the race.
At a time our country is in crisis, another city stricken with terror and fear, I thought this quote stood out as a reminder not to take action from a place of fear and anger. What happened in Boston is tragic and it’s effect will continue to ripple through our society shaping our view of safety, causing us to feel insecure and allowing us a false justification to judge others.
We cannot make determinations about individuals by looking at them. We cannot view ourselves as better than, above or more noble than anyone else we encounter. We cannot understand anyone else’s actions, connections, opinions or beliefs. We cannot allow our fear and anger of situations we see publicized dictate how we engage with each other and with the world.
The very best message I saw on television following the bombing at the Boston Marathon was a short clip from a late night TV news broadcaster I had never seen before. When I heard his comments it was the reminder I was meant to hear and something I wish all Americans could have seen. Following 9/11, many American’s condoned torture as revenge for the killing, injuring and terrorizing we all felt on that day. Except 12 years later we can reflect on the torture which was carried out, the lack of insight gained from it and the knowledge that many tortured were simply as innocent as the Americans caught in the towers. Out of fear and anger unthinkable actions were allowed to carry on in the sake of maintaining our safety and capturing “evil-doers”. This time we must learn from our mistakes. We have to rise above the devastating emotions and act with compassion or we will be turning our terror into terrorism.
Please watch this clip from Chris Hayes and spread the word. (here)
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Spending all day with my sweet little girl it’s impossible to give her undivided attention all the time. It would be lovely to just get to play nanny and focus only on her, unfortunately I have to play housekeeper, cook, chauffeur, and house manager cohesively. This conflict of roles lends it’s self to many hits and misses as far as connections we get to have as mother and daughter thoughout the day.
We both have times when we deny each other’s affections, when the opposite is fulfilled by a task. Like this morning while she ate her breakfast I began preparing a crafting collage until she finished eating and promptly decided she needed to be sitting in my lap. I held her off with distractions in her own chair as long as I could and somehow she ended up crawling her way back into my lap, blinding my efforts with scissors and paper with her curly brown locks. Eventually I gave in and assumed the project would have to wait. We pulled down the Play-Doh for her to roll and press shapes, this time it was her brushing mommy’s affection. It’s just so hard for me to resist her enthusiastic smile and positive energy, I want to swoop in to her kissable cheeks and savor the moment. And as if she suddenly incarnates a “too cool for parents” teenaged attitude her shoulder comes up to block her cheek – too busy for a kiss right now.
Those moments of craving attention are frequently coorelated with times of being tired or hungry, and when this is the case there is lot of whining involved. My response to the whining is encouragement for her to use her words, and when that doesn’t seem to make an impact I tell her I think she might be tired and needing a nap. This technique usually works since naps are the enemy and she would never volunteer herself for one. Except since this has been my response to her whining, she has begun beating me to the punch. She informs me: “I’m going to take a nap,” when I have repeatidly told her I can’t hold her while I am cooking. She doesn’t actually take a nap though, she just leaves for a minute and usually brings back a toy from her room.
I have to learn to not be hard on myself about the misses. I can’t entertain, hold, clean and fix everything for her and I have to be okay with her being upset about that sometimes. It makes it easier to accept the rough parts of the days when there are so many hits of the days to look back on and appreciate.
The mornings we stay extra long in bed pulling the covers over our heads to play with a flashlight. Dancing in our living room for hours on end stomping, twirling and shaking with laughter and songs. And closing each day with reading books, snuggles and kisses. There are so many moments when it’s just me and Parker, when I am completely present with her. In those moments she heals me from the chaos of life, problems in the world and the grown up worries which consume my mind most other waking hours of the day. For now though, I had better go finish my collage while she takes her nap.
Under The Covers
“You have to slow down and watch what you are doing,” the words escaped my mouth echoing from my own childhood. My mom would calmly and assertively interfere in careless actions or growing frustration with this statement. Now decades later with my own child it seems an automatic response, my mom’s words filtering through my mouth. When I first noticed this and other comments I have relayed to Parker, I couldn’t help to stop and think I am turning into my mom.
I know this thought evokes a comedic horror for many, the idea of resembling parents. For me, the thought of turning into my mom carried a chuckle in a different sense, there is no way I can live up to who my mom is. It would be a blessing if I could maintain a portion of her patience, an ounce of her generosity, or a sliver of her organization. I envy her diligence and work ethic while I have mastered procrastination – efficiency under pressure. She is the most dependable person you will encounter, and since she is a horrible liar you know you can trust exactly what she says she will do. There are so many incredible characteristics my mom emulates, it wouldn’t be a burden to be more like her. So I guess if I mimic some of her phrases, that’s just fine with me.
Nana & Parker
If I do my job right, decades from now, Parker won’t mind repeating my words either. These days she is constantly cracking me up with the things I tell her for encouragement or warning which get reflected back to me. Parker congratulates me with “Good job Mommy,” when I use the toilet. She cautions me to “Be careful Mommy,” when I am mopping and the floor it wet.
I so appreciate the statements from both my mom and my daughter. It’s a small reminder of the beautiful generations of women in my family, strong influences who have shaped who we are and how we think.
This week started out with heavy storms, both literally and figuratively. Last Saturday I woke up with a horrific headache and no pain medication in the house to take besides some heavy post-operative pharmaceuticals I didn’t think my ailment called for. With my husband gone to an appointment I did my best to prepare a suitable breakfast for Parker and then sit as still as possible at the table while she ate. It seemed any movement would send a shooting pain and bending over was agony. I rushed my daughter, as much as a two-year old can be rushed, to hurry her eating so that I could get back to bed. I sadly denied her requests to be picked up or to sit on my lap because it hurt too much. She cooperated with my ailment, as children mysteriously do in times of need. We finished in the kitchen and retreated to my bed where she sat quietly watching Elmo while I lay, eyes closed hoping my husband would be home soon. The throbbing got to be too much at one point and I rushed to the bathroom to get sick, Parker calling on the other side of the door to see if Mommy was okay. I crawled back to bed and text Reggie to get home as soon as possible.
I didn’t leave my bed much during the weekend, hurting and frustrated at having to cancel all of our weekend plans. The anger I felt from the wasted time of having to lay there, when I had so many things on my to-do list not getting accomplished, probably made my head even worse. By the time my migraine was subsiding on Sunday afternoon my body was achy and weak. Despite having to suffer through the weekend the bright side was it happened on the weekend and would have been more difficult to interfere with Reggie’s schedule during the week to have to take care of Parker. He did do a great job taking care of Parker too, even utilizing ‘phone a friend’ to find out how to take the day old french braid out of her hair.
With the week starting out so rough I didn’t have high expectations there would be much happening this week. I was pleasantly surprised to have three big rainbows after the storm.
On Monday, back in touch with life and people, I learned my cousin had passed her test to begin an instructorship path recognized by the Thai Boxing Association of the USA. She first told me of this test back in December painting a picture of a long examination of strikes, kicks and grappling lasting hours. Had I been present to observe, the violence would have left me cowering in a corner rocking with my head between my knees. Surrounded by peers, valued instructors and the founder/director of Thai Boxing Association she was honored with the title of Khru meaning teacher. I am so proud of her for this achievement, not only because she honestly has the strength in her tiny frame to kick ass, this accomplishment means so much more about her endurance to overcome obstacles she has in her life. Truly amazing!
My second rainbow came from a friend sharing some bun in the oven news. She and her husband are expecting and I have been trusted in her closest circle to hear before it’s made public (so shh, this is a secret.) I’m ecstatic for her to begin the adventure into parenthood and to help her as much as I can (with advice from long distance) dealing with the pregnancy ailments. Feeling sick , feeling tired, back pain, side pain, urgency to pee, loss of sleep, loss of appetite, increase in appetite, swelling, sweating, being easily irritated and no glass of wine to fix it – I don’t know how women can love it!? The enjoyment I found in being pregnant came with the movement, first just tiny flutters, then kicks, somersaults and finally and obvious cramped space where neither of us could move much. Although I wasn’t a woman who loved being pregnant, I wasn’t in a rush to deliver her because I knew for that time only she was all mine before I would have to share her with the world.
And finally the third rainbow came last night in the form of a proposal. My little sister, Heather, and her long-time boyfriend, Kyle, are officially getting hitched. I happened to be at my parent’s house when she called to share the news. When my mom began shouting into the phone “Really? Really?” I immediately assumed my brother had hit it big calling from Vegas. She put it on speaker phone and we all celebrated with cheers and tears. When my mom continued the jumping and cheering after the phone call Parker looked at her shaking her head “Silly Nana,” she said before joining in with “Hooray” and dancing.
Ironically I had just been thinking of Kyle earlier in the day counting my brothers and sisters. Biologically I only have 2 siblings, all together I calculated six wonderful brothers and five beautiful sisters I recognize as my family. Kyle has been my brother already for years, it never mattered what their legal status was. We always knew they would live a happily ever after together, now there will just be a party to celebrate it.
So with the start of the week wrecked, I am ending it with a smile. Life is beautiful.
Yesterday I was thrilled to find a sea of unity on my Facebook wall in the form of a simple red equality sign. In case you’re one of the few without a Facebook or Twitter account, the equality sign has been promoted by the Human Rights Campaign in the wake of the congressional hearing on same-sex marriage. The HRC released a statement stating “the original image has been shared more than 100,000 times and created upwards of 10 million impressions in all 50 states – not including countless user-created versions.”
Yay! It makes my heart smile to see people empowered to express their stance on a hot subject. The equality sign posted on a Facebook wall or replacing a profile picture is not a means to ignite an argument with non-supporters or demand a high level of activism which can often dissuade people from becoming involved. The equality sign was an awakening and measurable shock to congress, though more importantly an encouraging message to the gay community. The LGBT community faces discrimination and hate in ways most of us cannot relate. I hope the sea of red yesterday was a sign of support, progress and love. I also hope the volume of equality signs visible yesterday was an inspiration to non-supporters to reconsider their position.
I know I have many conservative friends on Facebook who don’t support gay marriage, and sometimes it’s bewildering to me why they don’t talk about it publicly. It’s like they want to keep their narrow-mindedness a secret, maybe deep down they know they are wrong for trying to impose their religious beliefs to control others. In stark contrast, I see so many ignorant insults being flung anonymously on forums and posts. Here is what I know for sure: The change is going to happen. So the faster the non-supporters work their way into acceptance the easier it will be for them to make the adjustment. Even better, their children can grow up accepting and loving rather than fearing and hating.
Inspired Living KC 