Keeping ahead of the game

On my favorite MT site, there is a current discussion on the advisability (or not) of being a medical transcriptionist in today's changing world, with its outsourcing and voice recognition sofware waiting in the wings to usurp our jobs. In the discussion, we mentioned the need for us to keep up with changing technology as our industry changes.

But that's only the beginning, I think. Today, I learned a little bit more about keeping up, because today I spent some time with Caroline.

I have to spend time with almost-3-year-old Caroline just to get used to how much she is learning. It behooves a grandma to know these things.

When Rachel asked Caroline what snack she wanted, Caroline's first choice was strawberries.
"But we don't have any strawberries," answered Rachel. "What else would you like?"
Caroline thought just a second. "Grapes."
"Sorry, honey," said Rachel, "but we don't have any grapes either. How about apple and peanut butter?"

So Caroline settled on apple and peanut butter. Meanwhile, I was considering the situation.

"Rachel, how about this?" I asked, trying to be helpful. "Many times when I come by to see you, I bring Caroline a little something. How about next week when I come, I bring some fruit, like grapes? It's better than a T-O-Y or a B-O-O-K," I said, sounding out each letter, as I didn't want to get Caroline involved in the intricacies of the conversation.

Rachel gave a little laugh. "She knows those words."
What?
"Yes, she knows those words. It doesn't do any good to spell them."
Then Rachel turned to Caroline. "Caroline, what's T-O-Y?" she asked.
Caroline didn't even have to think about it. "Toy," she said nonchalantly.
"What's B-O-O-K?" Rachel asked.
"Book," replied Caroline, engrossed in something else at the time.

Forget about keeping abreast of the latest technology. It's all I can do to keep up with the latest Caroline.

Folding, unfolding

One quilt pattern I have never tried to make is called Cathedral Windows. There is a lot of folding involved, and folding is really not my forte. If you need convincing, just look at my linen closet. Every time I go in Gap, I marvel at the perfection of their folded attire. If I dare to pick a T-shirt up to check the size, I never can get it folded back the way they had it. I feel as if I have disgraced myself in some way.

Even in cards, folding is not something I would want to do (even if I could play a card game that involved it). "Know when to fold 'em." Sounds like quitting to me. If you could see the boxes of quilt projects "in process" in my sewing room, you would understand I have a hard time giving in and giving up.

But unfolding - aye, that's different. That word has so many pleasant connotations for me. Unfolding of an angel's wings. Unfolding of a blossom. Unfolding journey, unfolding mystery. Agathie Christie's famous detective, Hercule Poirot, loves to promise confidently in his charming Belgian accent, "All will be revealed." There's something orderly when things are gradually revealed until the whole thing is finally open, and all is known. It gives a sense of completion. Oddly, unfolding seems to give closure.

I'm reading a book that forced me to look at that idea in a new way. The book is Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O'Donohue.

It is interesting that the word revelation comes from re-valere, literally, "to veil again." The world of the soul is glimpsed through the opening in a veil that closes again.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you are well aware that I like things to be known. I like to know where I will be living, where I will be working, whether I can lose 20 pounds, and I certainly do not like the unknown (with its synonyms of uncertain, undisclosed, undecided, unresolved, unsettled). This idea of re-veiling intrigued me. It skewed my stable interpretation of my life gradually revealing itself until all is known. If what John O'Donohue says is true, then life doesn't follow a straight linear pattern of unfolding, like a flower does. Life is, as they say, "one step forward and two steps back" sometimes. It's glimpses of certainty and progress, then uncertainty and retreat, having glimmers of hope, then dealing with doubt and worry. A quick peek under the veil - you see a nose, maybe - then all is covered again. Another peek - you see an eye this time - or is it an ear? - and then all is hidden again. Zig-zags, U-turns, wandering, all on our chosen path, or in some cases, the path chosen for us.

My innate desire for order and pattern is not compatible with such a circuitous journey. I want, however, to open myself to the possibilities such a journey entails. And life continues to unfold.

In the end, all will certainly be revealed, and the veil will come off - just not necessarily on my personal timetable. I just need to learn to keep myself awake and aware so I don't miss those little peeks in the meantime.