War: Taking Care Of The Wounded

I never said this blog would be easy.
My readers should know that I tread a very fine line between writer and wife. I've been a writer for over 20 years --far longer than being a the wife of a soldier. And so it's always this writerly instinct that surfaces first, followed by questioning whether or not to share it.

I weigh what gets put into the blog.

I received these photos from The Hubs. The write up he did was so complete, I wondered if they were intended for the public. He said, "No, just you."

But then, I thought that wasn't quite right, that certainly the way he described it was to a larger audience. So we both thought about it ...and I asked a few people "in the know." The response was an overwhelming "yes."
But then, in the end, it was me sitting her making the final decision.
So here they are, lightly edited.
To quote one of my advisors, former USAF Pediatric Surgeon LTC Chris Coppola,

"the more we show photos that humanize the troops, and show not only the struggle but the valiant moves to save and protect, the more the general public will understand just what it is that we do."

Dr. Coppola is now in a group practice, having left the military after 2 tours in Iraq and numerous missions throughout the world. He has a book coming out soon. You can read more about it at his site over here.
To see more of the captions, please click on view all images.

To read a bit more about the process, check out Spinning Up from the Far From Perfect blog

Friday In The Garden Of Dog: Leaps Of Faith

In our backyard. The winds blow toward the house from the desert.

The desert winds have blown through, making their arrival yesterday by blowing the flags toward the house and puffing on the large wind chime that The Hubs bought some time ago. The cat, dog and I sat on the porch for some time, wallowing in the heat for a bit.

Earlier this week, there was a new story run on the web about how private donors have furnished enough school supplies, clothing, pots and pans for the people in Asadabad, in the province of Kunar. More than 500 women, ophans and disabled ascended on the Governor of Kunar's compound to receive needed items.

I can attest that this just isn't smoke. The Hubs and the team have been personal recipients of numerous boxes of items from friends of this blog who have put things together for the locals around his FOB. Each effort made to establish a relationship with a local takes a leap of faith. But I think it's necessary for our own long term safety, and moves like this are precisely what we need to be doing. We need to live amongst the population as COIN intended. And on an equal side, we need stories like this reported in the mainstream news.

Sadly, they are not. The media and the congress aren't willing to take a leap of faith and see the bigger picture. Because of this ...we are stuck with a lot of political stalling, despite the fact that McChrystal had his report in on time 3 weeks ago. And what makes this whole frickin' thing so dangerous is that with each political stall, with each grandstanding by Pelosi, and each signal from Gates that Obama isn't ready to make a decision ...the insurgents use it as a sign of indecision and poor leadership. Though Obama has a flair for self promotion, he's hasn't shown us the ability to throw a left hook when we need it.

So these stories are needed, especially at a time when people are more apt to see failure than the small strides being made. This isn't to say though, that those of us with loved ones over there, or have loved ones here who are having problems, don't understand the complexities and the dangers.

War is a shitbox. There's no other way to describe what it does to people. It never makes any sense to me, and yet, war is a story through the ages. Did the wives during the days of Alexander wait for that moment their husband's might walk down the lane? I'm sure they did. It's a pathetic comment about our learning curve that a modern day Army wife has a bind to soldier's wives from ancient times. And yet, I'm glad we took the leap into this new life, because each day I'm astonished. For the ones who have taken consistent leaps have faith have been our world armed forces.

Each day, I come across old military stereotypes that crumble. Take for instance, one soldier who finally sought help for many years of suffering with PTSD. His unleashing a torrent emotions on a blog was the first step to loosening not one, but several blocks. It was painful to read, but I knew it tougher for him to go through, to live with, and finally to get it onto the page. And so by writing about it, I recognized that he had taken a very significant life step. Getting help took a leap of faith.

BabaTim
That's all for now. Please go take a look at BabaTim's suggestions on What To Do Next (in Afghanistan), Part 2.
Talk about a leap of faith! Tim's decision to make a life in Afghanistan has taken just that. He thought he could --as a former Marine, an independent contractor and entrepreneur make it a better place. Having employed over 6,000 local Afghans in cash for work infrastructure projects, he is doing just that.

Finding The Way Back, Together and The War Comes Home

Anyway, I'm always amazed when I do google searches for words that normally don't come together. Somehow I ended up at the Deep Streams Zen Institute, which in turn led to the The Coming Home Project.

This is a free, non profit organization that provides compassionate care, support and stress management tools for veterans, families and service providers.

Often we delude ourselves into thinking we're the only ones out there with an issue or two or three or four or five. But, then we stumble (as I did into a NAMI meeting) and find there are loads of people with exactly the same (or worse) problems you've got. Suddenly the world isn't so small. But I know that getting help isn't easy for a variety of reasons that range from the stigma of mental health (the "John Wayne complex"), the maze of bureaucracy, and even transportation problems.

One of the things The Coming Home Project offers is live video teleconferencing, where anyone from across the country may watch the program as it happens, or later on. I think this is invaluable. On September 24, there will be one for service providers (or really, anyone with an interest) with Alicia Lieberman, who will speak on

Children of Military Families -- Helping them cope with their experience of deployment and trauma.

You'll be able to watch it on UCTV (University of California TV).

Here's one of their programs with Journalist Aaron Glantz, who talks about how difficult it is for veterans to obtain help from the VA upon coming home.
It's an hour long.

A Different Afghanistan: From My Friend Penny

I don't care if you're a secret squirrel, a milspouse, a veteran, a former Marine, or some other tough guy. I know for one thing for certain, you would have loved my friend Penny. And because it's Friday, and we all need a break from war, you get to read about her.

This is different from my usual postings on the military. But readers of my blog should know there are a few things that I love --have always loved and based my life around. 1. art; 2. writing; 3. fashion; 4. yoga. Add to this the military, and you see that what I offer up on any of my blogs are various aspects that inevitably cross over. And since I'm the creator, writer and editor, I just bring my readers along for the ride.

In recent years, my involvement with a writer's program at a university, gave me the opportunity to meet a lot of like-minded and creative persons. One of the best was Penny Morell. Penny came to the writer's table after a lifetime's work as a somewhat starlet (discovered by Daryl Zanuck, a fashion model, advertising exec, entreprenuer, filmmaker and fashion editor. She had an unerring eye, a zest for living and best of all --she was always encouraging.

Women like Penny are once in a lifetime, so I was happy to spend some time with her. I lost track of her for about a year, and during this time both our lives have changed dramatically. Anyway, I found her through the internet, and was delighted to hear she'd gone back to NYC. Really, it was her home, the place she loved and always spoke about after she'd moved here to L.A. for a few short years. So I caught up with Penny and told her about The Hubs new trajectory into the military.

With her usual flair, she told me about her trip to Afghanistan made many many years ago:

"It was good to hear all the news and wish the best for your son and your husband. One of the best trip my husband and I ever took was to India, Kashmir, Pakistan, through the Kyber pass into Afghanistan. There we knew the American Ambassador and he gave us a Mercedes bus and we traveled all that great country; mostly enjoyed Bamiyan with its majestic Buddha's built into the mountain.Though they no longer exist due to horror of the Taliban we will never forget spending days climbing inside and standing on the shoulder of the main Buddha. Inside were separate caves full of Esoteric symbols. It had been a study place of all that passed by during the silk- route."

Penny passed away on Thursday of Lou Gehrig's disease, in Manhattan. A lifelong New Yorker it was apropos that she returned to spend the last 2 years of her life. One thing she did was have a friend help her and her daughter Samantha put together a website to be viewed after she passed. On Sunday, I'll take the kids to the last place I saw Penny. We got a bit drunk, had a hilarious drive in her little Honda... anyway, I'll raise a glass to her. I also wrote about her on my fashion blog, The Literary Fashionista.
(BabaTim claims not to like my fashion blog, but read it anyway).


So enjoy. Here's Penny. You'd of thought she was a good egg.
See more videos at Penny Morell. (if it takes awhile to load, go to her site.)

Car O' My Dreams: My Uncle's Wheels In Tucson

The fuzzy leopard padded steering wheel. The bobble head kitty on the dash.Improvements On A Suguaro

Were You At The Presidio?

Today I'm listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers on Pandora

Last week, I was interviewing "YogiE" also known as former Army Infantryman Eric Walrabenstein. He told me he had been the Basic Training Commander at the Presidio.
I have very fond memories of The Presidio, having gone through there as a kid on our way to the Golden Gate Bridge. I realized that he was probably one of the last to serve at that wonderful old base. It's rather unfortunate the the government gave up both Fort Ord and The Presidio. WHAT a waste!

Anyway, I started searching and found out that the National Park Service wants to hear from men, women and families who were posted at The Presidio.

If you did and want to share a memory, please go to this page: Presidio Memories.

The Ties That Bind: James R. Layton, Age 22

Up north of here, it was probably a little bit warm last week. Those old valley oak trees tower over the landscape, and their leaves are probably hanging on. The farmlands surrounding it are being prepared for another round of planting for harvest next spring. The grass is still green, and the river runs quiet as autumn approaches. It was in this setting that a young navy medical corpsman was buried in a town not far from where I grew up. James R. Layton, age 22, was described as an artist and healer. He died in the ambush in Ganjgal, attending to another Marine's wounds while in the line of fire.

Not only did he hail from a place nearby --where decades before, I spent my youth riding a bicycle through farmlands and along rivers, there's no doubt that he was one of those who passed through The Hubs's FST on that horrible day.

Photos from the Modesto Bee

Our condolences go to his family and friends. No doubt, like others who have left the safety of our small towns, James probably wanted to see the larger world. I regret that he didn't get to see more of it. But I am grateful that during his short life he brought comfort and healing to many. In this way, young James left his mark in ways that run deep and are lasting.

The Cats Of The FST: Afghan Cats

Thank you from Downrange

Cat O'War: Tripod

A few weeks ago, I wrote about a little girl who had her leg amputated in a post called, "My daughter's shirt." Here's an update on her:

"We were able to arrange for the girl to get a prosthetic leg through the Red Cross. I guess anything like that, just go to the Red Cross. We finally figured it out. I always give her paper and colored pencils because she draws constantly. And she is starting school! That is how you move ahead in Afghanistan.

Thank you: From an aunt and uncle along with their friends in Michigan, a man who transports dogs on the east coast, a museum curator from Portland ME, and a busy mother in Texas, people from all walks of life are tapped into that most heavenly of spirits --giving. They buoy the spirits of the team. And to those who sent school supplies --you affirm a belief in education as a stepping stone to the future.

"I have been using the yoga DVDs (sent over). They move pretty fast, so I have to stop-action all the time. We are going to do one or two every evening. Special Forces comes over and borrows it too. They say it is "relaxing."

This is really great news that they're using techniques for stress reduction while still there. If anyone has any yoga or guided meditation DVD's or CD's, send them over.

In conversation:

"The female soldiers went crazy over the box you sent just for them. They were most appreciative."

I sent a box marked "for the ladies," and hubs handed it off. In side were Tampons and Pads, prettily scented moisturizers, and shower gels. Anyway, these are all ideas if anyone is wanting to know what to send.
In addition, The Hubs writes

"I'm way behind on thank you notes."

Hey, it's war. I don't think anyone really expected one!

Friday Night In The Garden Of Dog

It's a Friday night, a cool breeze has come, as I sit outside writing this. The dog is here by my foot, looking out at the valley below us, waiting for either a skunk or possum to shuffle past so that he can fulfill his dogly purpose. Louie is so uncomplicated. He sleeps, walks, barks at things, and knows I'm his person. He follows me around.

I've had a lot of adjustments the past year. The biggest one was to find a new sense of purpose. Yes, I've always written but things changed. Now I was alone with 2 teens to raise. One of them has severe emotional and developmental issues, which sapped away my identity and sanity for his first 19 years. With a husband in combat, trying to find out what a milspouse does is like slipping on a new coat and having to search for the buttons.

I've taken to doing a daily body check. Am I tired? Why does my neck and shoulder hurt so much? Is my blood pressure okay? Do my feet itch? Middle age is like having this big white elephant try to sit on you again and again. But I also ask the deeper questions: Is my son bothering the hell out of me? Am I being as diligent as I could? Why does he bother the hell out of me? I slip back into the mundane. Am I afraid of what's going on in Astan? How do I feel about the politics of war? Is it worth worrying about? Are my sprinklers....why are they going on at 5:30 AM? Is my garage door still busted? Is this just all bullshit?

*blink* *blink*
So after these little sessions, even when I'm feeling crickety crackity out of bed, I hobble over to yoga where some happy zealot demands that I go into all these poses.

And amazingly, the body responds. Up over my toes, arms strong, feet pressing into the mat, thighs engaged ...hey I can move. Doesn't mean I keep up, but the fact that I'm there is worth a giggle and a smile from me. All of this is pretty damned amazing since we writers tend to be more mentally than physically agile.

But more than just moving my body, each time I go through the paces I find a sense of purpose. All the brain clutter is put into perspective. I'm not bugged as much as I was when I barreled down the hill to get to class. The conscious desire to be there has altered my approach --it's a lot different now than it was in years past. It's a way of being that up until now, despite the outward trappings (the "zen this and that") I wasn't ready for.

One thing it's unleashed is a deep desire to give. In all sorts of ways, be it a smile, sending stuff over to The Hubs or working side by side with my son in the garage, helping him organize (he needs a lot of assistance, but gets angry when anyone tries to offer).
But really. Life is good. And though I know some people look at me crosseyed when I say it, I not only mean it, I feel it.
I'm sorry to say that it took having a husband in a combat zone that drove me to shift my focus and discover a purpose. Would I have done this had our lives stayed the same? No. Because as in fiction, the protagonist must always have some life changing event in order to go forward. And this was mine.

By the way, I went through my cards from the Meditation Mount. The word I chose for tomorrow is:
Yeah, I know it's backwards. And that cracks me up.

Compassionate, Quick, and Constant: A tribute to the medical teams

Today is one of those quiet, introspective days when I give thanks for all that we have. When I count my blessings that we are able to share our knowledge, expertise and experience with those who need it most.

Here's a shout out to a group who has been charged with what seems to be the impossible. These are the techs, nurses, doctors, orderlies, janitors who work tirelessly to bring some semblance of peace into days wrenched with conflict, tension and uncertainty. Under conditions that most would never imagine, they save lives, take care of the wounded, and for those for whom it is too late, prayers are said and tears are shed.

So here's to the solid professionals. The Real Deals. The Right Stuff. To the Forward Surgical Teams who will do this time and time again. Amazing. Utterly, spectacularly breathtaking. Their courage and commitment is to be admired.

From Soldier to Yogi: Eric Walrabenstein Reaches Out To Veterans

Opportunity: If you're in the Phoenix Area, former Army Infantry Officer Eric Walrabenstein would like you to participate in a pilot program being tested to help you with stress related issues. 5 weeks long, 2 meetings a week (Monday and Thursday). Participants are paid a stipend of $150 at the end. Swing by Yoga Pura for more details or watch this video.

"He must have discipline and high morale and understand the core values that make our Army great and the Infantry the "Queen of the Battle." He must have heart and he must not quit. He is not inherently superior, he is not born with these things, he must be taught. The education of a man is more than a piece of paper; we teach lessons in ife as well as lessons in combat. We demand that Infantrymen be led to a higher standard." -US Army

“Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart.” -Rumi, 13th Century Sufi Poet and Mystic

My life has been greatly enhanced by a daily practice of yoga. And so, the recent addition to my life as a writer to that as an active duty military wife has been somewhat made a lot easier because of it. An early-morning web-based search of others in the military with like-minds led to Army veteran Eric Walrabenstein, who has developed a program that mixes yoga and psychology for veterans. With a few emails, and I had the former Amy Infantry Officer on the phone.

When I asked Walrabenstein if he saw any disparity between his life in the military and that of a yogi, his answer was an emphatic no. "I loved the military because it was service to something bigger than myself. It was selfless. Service to humanity through yoga is the same," he said.

From 1985 to 1989, Eric Walrabenstein served as an Infantry Officer at Ft. Lewis, and then later in the 2nd Battalion Reserves as the Basic Training Commander at the Presidio in San Fransisco. It was during this time that he had a chance meeting with a woman who told him about zen. Ever curious, Walrabenstein followed the leads, which led him to several years of study at the San Fransisco Zen Center, which then led him on the Yogic path. It was as if, his life's work found him. "It was fate," he says.

Walrabenstein's path took him to Phoenix, where he founded a thriving studio named Yoga Pura. There, he and his staff guide others to more balanced lives through yoga. In addition, he also trains people not only in the usual poses ( often mistaken solely as exercise), but to the philosophy that is the core of Yoga through a teacher-training program.

Like most veterans though, there was this nagging question as how to connect his old life to his new one. "I wondered, how can I help? How can I take these teachings beyond these four walls and help someone with significant and immediate problems?"

What he found after meeting with other veterans is other than the DOD and VA, the resources are scant. Many live in areas where they don't have access to these services, and many more are reluctant to step forward because of the stigma of mental health. "One veteran who contacted me said that the he'd been taught to fight and kill for three years. But when he left, all he had was a three hour out-processing," says Walrabenstein. So, the question he posed to himself was: how best to reach people on a broad scale?

His answer was the creation of Thrive (note, the name will be changing), which employs modern psychology, yoga, and relaxation techniques. "Thrive is a seven-week program in a box," he says. "It's designed to be done at home with a CD, a DVD and a book. Participants are asked to evaluate their lives, find any unhealthful tendencies or thoughts that make their stress worse. Each week the participant will read a different lesson. It's a self administered program that takes up about an hour a day."

For warriors who might be skeptical and associate the practice of yoga with tinkly music and skinny girls in tights, Walrabenstein differentiates between the popular perception and the reality. "Yoga as the phenomenon sometimes creates spiritualized egos. Unfortunately, in some instances, yoga has become people trading one point of view for another. However, yoga is about transcending point-of-views altogether." Walrabenstein puts veterans at ease by making sure they know that yoga isn't only about stretching and bending. Yoga in its totality is to help take people beyond the stress, tension and conflict they experience in their day to day lives. "It's a science of the mind," he says.

In the pilot program, which will start September 21 in Phoenix. It's open to fifty people, and so far they have a combination of Vietnam Veterans and those from the more recent wars. "There's still room," he says. Participants will be asked to rate their stress levels by filling out a questionnaire every week. They'll be led through various exercises to help them train the mind in various relaxation techniques. "It's not only what happened to us, but it's how we process the experience and how we relate or respond," he says.

Once the trial is over and adjustments have been made, Walrabenstein has a larger goal in fulfilling his desire to give back. He has a vision, and with the same precision one might expect of a former Army officer, he has a plan. "My goal is to put half a million of these out into the hands of those who need them by deploying the kits directly to their home, free of charge. The cost will be covered by a combination of private and corporate donations. In other words, you don't have to ask for help. It's going to come for you."

Just like fate. There's no doubt that Thrive will reach those veterans ready for the yogic path who don't even realize it. But once they do, there's no doubt that one day, like Walrabenstein, they'll work to help others as well.

I'll be talking to Eric mid way and at the conclusion of the program. He's very much excited about the start of the program. Please link to this blog and share the information.

The Warrior Paths Are Part of the Same

Right now, I'm listening to Bebel Gilberto on Pandora.com

A few months ago, I was busy at the house, when I realized my yoga class started in less than twenty minutes. And so I washed my hands and face, grabbed the nearest shirt and left. As I backed out of the driveway I contemplated going back in and changing. My Army shirt is a little high in the neck, not that comfortable. But given that I was late, I kept on toward the studio. Upon arriving, several people looked at my shirt, gave me a crosseyed look, and said nothing more. This continued all the way through the long walk to the back of the studio. People did not know what to say.
And so I giggled. Because on the outside there seems to be a incongruity between the yoga warrior and the military warrior. But we know there isn't.
As in this video:
"We must win the peace by conquest, it's not something we get by not fighting. Non violence means much more than simply refusing to fight."
Watch on...

Responses to "Wikialytizing The News"

Earlier this week, I wrote about how the NY Times asked world media outlets for a shut out about a the kidnapping of one of their journalists while in Afghanistan. The article was posted here and on BlogCritics --where once again, the regulars there weighed in on the issue.

I also posted it to some well known journos and asked them how they felt about the NY Times embargo. So far, two have responded.

The first is from Gustavo Arellano, the popular blogger, journalist, radio host, and book author, and syndicated columnist. He writes "Ask A Mexican" for the The Orange County Weekly. Earlier this year, he put the best of his columns together in a book, which has been a national best seller. Gustavo is also a regular contributor to the LA Times, and was feted by The Los Angeles Press Club. Gustavo was also a finalist for the 2005 prestigious PEN USA Literary Awards for Journalism for his profile on a disabled Latino veteran of the Iraq War. Gustavo (in my estimation) is probably one of the most talented journos to come out of Orange County.

"My thoughts: The NY Times frequently reports on matters of high national security despite the pleadings of military brass; for it to ask the same when it comes to itself is hypocritical. That said, any journalism that can lead to the death of someone is bad journalism."

The next is from journalist John Seiler, who was an editor and writer for the Orange County Register for eighteen years, and also worked at The Washingon Times. During his time with the paper, John produced an overwhelming 4 million words. John graduated from Hillsdale College in Michigan and spent four years as a Russian Linguist in Military Intelligence in the U.S. Army, most of it in West Germany. He now runs John Seiler Marketing, and is available through Linked In.

"I think it was right for them to request a blackout. But these aren't the old days when only a few news outlets existed. So they shouldn't be surprised that bloggers reported it. It's hard to keep secrets nowadays."

In addition, Ruidoso News journalist and editor Julie Carter wrote a lengthy response --twice! However, I never saw it because it was eaten by the Blogspot Gremlins. However, you should visit Julie on her site that plugs one of her books based on her weekly column.

Thank you Gustavo and John! I'm still hoping to hear from others I've contacted. Sadly, one of them --Bob Ehlert of the Sacramento Bee apparently is no longer with that paper. I got a "returned message" when I tried to email him. I'd love to hear from old friend Al Martinez, and I'm hoping Patt Morrison still gets her mail.

The Dying Marine: A Letter To The Photographer

Dear Julie Jacobsen,

A few weeks ago, my husband's FST got into a heated argument with a photographer, who saw an opportunity to get photos of wounded or dying soldiers and civilians. The Hubs been a surgeon for 23 years, he knows death well enough to understand that dignity is worth preserving. In a way, the photographer was no better than the paparazzi that surround Brittney Spears every time she goes to the market. They were unwanted, unneeded, and there for purely opportunistic reasons. They kicked him out.

So I'm writing you about your decision to run with the photo of the dying Marine. You justified it as catching the gritty and awful reality of war. But given that the family requested that it not be run, I find your decision disrespectful and self serving.

Like you, I've seen photographs of the victims of war --from Matthew Brady's iconic pictures of the Civil War, to the photos of Auschwitz. I remember vividly the photograph of the little naked girl on fire in Vietnam. They are part of our history, and now yours is there too. And frankly, here's the dilemma: without those documents of war, our history is incomplete.

But it's not up to you to decide how the nation swallows the reality of war by running a Marine's dying moment in the papers. You breached his trust, you overrode his dignity, you have forever betrayed his friends who were in a harrowing moment they thought was private. As for the family, you've caused real pain. If you can justify causing pain to anyone, you must be a very strident deliverer of all the wrong medicines.

Every military family lives with nightmares over what might happen. We and our friends know the sacrifices being made. And yet each day, whether or not we've had any sleep, our lives go on. We find ways in which to deal with an impending sense of grief. The lucky ones, like me, balance it by grasping onto the wisps of happiness we look for throughout the day. The unlucky ones delve deep into themselves, sometimes slipping into a depression that won't go away, perhaps eating too much, or worse.

There's no doubt that an account of his final moments would have come out without your help. His friends would have written his family, they might have told others, or written about it down. But in their own time, in their own way, once all the dust had settled and when they were ready.

Millions might agree with you. But those millions don't set right the fact that you went against the wishes of the family, caused them grief, put them into a limelight they didn't want. Perhaps your penance will be having to justify this for the rest of your life. This will be exhausting.

I hope when you die, no one is there taking a photograph of you and running it in the papers.

Rest In Peace Lance Cpl Joshua "Bernie" Bernard. You did well.
And to his family --your dignity is inspiring. Our condolences.

Sincerely,
Kanani Fong
MilSpouse
& 23-year Surgeon's Wife

Eight Years Later: What 9/11 Means To Me Now

Military Children holding a candlelight vigil.
Each of these kids has a parent who is or has been deployed. They came together in August for one week of summer camp, courtesy of the NMFA and The Sierra Club.

Eight years ago, I wrote for an online travel agency out of Barcelona. The experience opened up my world in many different ways. First was the use of technology, and "blogging" before blogs became known. The second was working with an international crew of writers around the clock. We'd meet through "hotmail chat" or "ICQ" --novelty back then, especially since it allowed us to talk to people from other countries with ease.

I remember when the planes flew into the twin towers. I went online and found my friends in India, Australia, Switzerland, Israel and France. We speculated about what this meant, how it would change things.

But of course, none of us really knew. Probably the only one who really did in real-life terms was my good friend Berlie from Israel. For her, terrorism wasn't an abstract term, but something she had lived with for years.

I found out a friend's husband had died in the World Trade Towers. A few months passed and I went to visit. It was a somber time, and it wasn't lost on me that what should have been a time of joy to see her new baby was in fact, one filled with uncertainty.

When I went to visit the site, I got off the subway and was swept up in the flood of people heading to the same place. No words were exchanged. As we grew closer, the number of notices on tacked on fences with faces of loved ones increased. There were t-shirt hawkers, ambulances, police, and firetrucks. The smell and dust grew thicker, the clatter of generators could be heard as we zig zagged through streets and alleys to get there. Finally, the fire hoses attached to the hook and ladders, giant lights, and a piece of facade came into view.

There was nothing to say. All I knew is that those perpetrators had taken not just many lives, but the husband of a good friend.
And still, I didn't know what it meant.

So I read about the region. I thought about God, Allah and the Budah. I traveled. I listened to chants of "Bread not Bombs," and read a poem on the night we sent our first troops to Afghanistan. Emotions ran high at that reading. But unlike the others, mine wasn't a rant. It was an acknowledgment that war was no longer a silent part of our lives. You can read the poem, "Alphabet Prayer" right here.

In retrospect, I can still say, I did not know what it would mean.

Life changes. We get older. Business gets tough, and we become vulnerable. We become tired of shuffling through life, and suddenly, a new road appears before us.

Now, eight years later, we are sending a husband and father to war. Not just anyone. Ours. Mine.
And like I ought to be, we are all scared but keep going. After all, life is filled with uncertainty. I have no idea what the outcome will be, but then again, I never did before, either. But one thing: this is a time for kindness within our own walls, and outside.

While I could talk politics, wax about the creation of public policy, or expound on the stupidity of taking from the same pool of soldiers and families as we have for the past eight years, the conclusion I reach after all my mental wanderings is the same.

I still am not sure what the full extent of 9/11 means.

But perhaps the following will be the closest I can come as I take in this imperfect world with its cantankerous systems. As we try to make the world safer and broaden opportunities, we are discovering who are and who we will be in the 21st century. The world has lost many, and will lose more. Though the outcome may not be apparent until years beyond my own, I hope the sacrifice will have been worth it. While these events are defining, the part that makes me pause is it is being done by sending people we love very much.

This is the only thing I am certain about.

Note: This was originally posted on my literature & life blog, Easy-Writer. I'm running it today. You can check out the comments and ensuing fight that took place on the original post over here:
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Wikialytizing the News? NY Times Asks For And Gets A (Near) News Blackout

Originally posted on Blogcritics

There's a big flap in the blogosphere over the request by the NY Times to keep news of the kidnapping of one of their reporters in Afghanistan under wraps (it's not the first time). As the world recently learned in the major outlets, NY Times reporter Stephen Farrell was kidnapped along with his interpreter as they surveyed the scene of the recent NATO bombing of the Taliban-hijacked fuel tankers outside of Kabul.

Apparently, Arthur Ochs Sulzberger, Jr. (one must hold the publisher ultimately accountable), asked the international press and wire services to withhold news of the kidnapping. This isn't the first time. They also did the same with another one of their journos, David Rohde, who was kidnapped in November 2008. Rhode, who was held 7 months, escaped by scaling a wall in Warziristan. During his captivity, The NY Times also worked with Wikipedia to suppress all news regarding his kidnapping, hence, wikialytizing* history. The reasons being were:

"From the early days of this ordeal, the prevailing view among David's family, experts in kidnapping cases, officials of several governments and others we consulted was that going public could increase the danger to David and the other hostages. The kidnappers initially said as much. " said Bill Keller, Times' executive editor. "We decided to respect that advice, as we have in other kidnapping cases, and a number of other news organizations that learned of David’s plight have done the same. We are enormously grateful for their support.” NY Times June 20, 2009

Without doubt, the same procedure was used in Farrell's case. However, this time the news of the kidnapping reached blogs, including a well known one, The Long War Journal. Bill Roggio, Managing Editor, made the decision to report only that Farrell had been kidnapped.

Roggio, by no means a lightweight when it comes to journalism or boots-on-the-ground insight. It's safe to assume he knew a lot more about what was going on, and yet he did not disclose details about any negotiation or rescue efforts. Only that this event happened. His decision to run it brought forth accusations by bloggers of endangering both Farrell and the interpreter, as well as moral ineptitude.

The NY Times' perspective might be this: if we don't give the T-ban the press it wants, then we'll have more leverage when it comes to getting him out. Furthermore, maybe all this kidnapping stuff will stop once they see there's no news.

But this was The NY Times' second kidnapping in under a year. Kidnapping of a journo is one of those those events that fills in the image of how dangerous the situation in Afghanistan really is: everyone there is fair game. The Taliban had to have known that this might warrant a rescue effort, and one can bet that they weren't going to let someone get away by scaling a wall again. This wasn't going to end neatly.

Which brings me to the NY Times' probable second thought: Some news outlets are far less worthy of trust, and once they find out (Blogcritics included), public hysteria will ensue. There will be more rumors in the push for more information and everything will get botched.

But then...bad things happened anyway. The Brits stepped in when their sources signaled the situation was worsening. The net result was one British soldier, a highly valued Afghan national who worked with news outlets for years as an interpreter, along with another Afghan were killed. Net result: one NY Times journo saved, three others lost. And this was with almost a complete news outlet blackout.

So, this begs a few questions: Is the kidnapping of a journo newsworthy? Yes, it is. But when does the conventional wisdom touted by The Times start to wear thin? Did Roggio (as he was accused by some bloggers) endanger the life of Farrell? I don't think so. Things were going downhill quickly all on their own. Should the NY Times expect that blogosphere to uniformly bend to their requests?

I'm going to ask a few journos --including one who has won a Pulitzer Prize to see what they think of this. It'll be interesting to hear the responses. And do go ahead and leave your own opinion as well.

*that's my word, dammit.
Thanks to Uncle Jimbo at Blackfive for the loop.

Soldier Writers: Don't Sell Yourself Short

I've noticed a lot of books being written by soldiers as of late. A part of me feels as though some of these have been rushed to print, and many are going the route of Print-On-Demand.

Each year, I go to the LA Times Festival of Books at UCLA. It's a great weekend with loads of famous authors who've written books on everything from politics to poetry. All of the publishers, book stores and even CNN's book notes is there. Around 100,000 people show up every year for the 3 day event.

It seems one segment keeps growing. And that's the number of self-published authors who rent booths for $350.00 in order to sell their books. The come prepared with books, DVD's, press kits... and all too often we see them not selling as much as they had imagined. It's gotta hurt. After all, they've paid to get their book in print. They want to recoup their investment --but not only that, they want recognition for their hard work. But there they are --often alone at their booth, trying to get people to even stop long enough to speak with them. I suspect many don't even recoup their costs of transportation and rental.

So this is where I break the news to you. Writing is hard and staying with it takes passion. It requires trial and error to get the right words that will not only convey your message, but will make the reader want to read more. In addition, you also have to learn to read in a way you've never done before. You will have to read widely, including genres you've never even considered before. It's a process. Many authors have taken years to produce their first book. Five years is not uncommon for a first novel. Rewrites are common and necessary --my good friend Frank Schaeffer rewrote one book more than 20 times. I know from speaking with him, he works on many books simultaneously. And his reading list is like something from Mars.

Let's take a look at Dexter Filkins's The Forever War, which was not only a national best seller, but also won the National Book Critics Circle Award and the NY Times Book Review Best Book of the Year awards. The author was greatly helped along by his many years of writing experience as a journalist. Filkins didn't learn how to craft a story overnight. It took time. He had editors yelling at him every step of the way. In other words, much as a soldier takes many years to become hone their skills soldiering, it takes the same kind of diligence to know how to put words together, let alone a book.

I know you might want that book in print while the war is fresh in your mind. You don't know where to start, and writing workshops and groups seem a bother. Not only that, feedback causes you pain. So you whiz past all that, write the book in a few months, and the first thing you consider (because the publishing world seems so arcane) is self publishing. You take out a copyright and part with precious dollars to see your book in print.

The difference is ...if you go with an agent who then shops your book out to publishers, they pay you, you don't pay them. Plus, the publisher handles finding an editor, negotiates for you, and the publisher handles the printing, distribution and the public relations. And, as many friends have pointed out, distribution is everything.

So, don't sell yourself short by bypassing any part of the writing process and going straight to self publishing. The process in itself is very interesting, and it's like joining this big crazy club of writers who bicker, mark up your pages with red marks, exchange ideas, and guess what ...you get to do it back!

There's lots of support for writers available on the internet. I believe that every soldier has not one, but many stories. How they're shared --blogging, letters, magazine or newspaper articles, v-blogs, or a book is up to the individual are all valid. But if your desire is to write a book, take time to learn the craft first. Check your ego at the door and attend workshops or join a group. Once you've got that down, take time to understand how the industry works. Your voice is too important to have your story lost in the shuffle with a press so small, they don't have the mechanism for distribution.

If you want more information on writing, I've put together a writing blog filled with tips: Writer Impossible. Check out the archives and especially January - March 2008. Lotsa stuff there. My friends and I also did a really fun project called The Writerly Pause where we had interviews with various writers. In addition, nothing beats (still, to this day) the now shuttered (but still viewable) Miss Snark. I also lurk on my friend's blog Patricia Wood. Patricia is a very good writer, and she was also at one time long, long ago ...a med tech in the US Army. Now she's just really cool and writes fun books while being harassed by her cats.

I'll also be at Blog World Expo thanks to Laughing Wolf at BlackFive. Look for me over there, and I'll be happy to talk to you about your book. If you want me to read up the first 20 pages, a one page synoposis and a one paragraph bio placed in an SASE, I can do this for a small fee. Contact me at easywriter101 for the rates. Also, there are some awfully good writers who post here. Go onto their blogs, lurk, comment, ask questions. Really, they don't bite.

A MilSpouse In Yoga

It was in pigeon pose, that I started to cry.

It wasn't that it was the end of a two hour class.. Nor was that we'd held yoga poses for several minutes each. It wasn't the repetitions, or all the reaching, folding, and balancing. It was the culmination of everything, but which I mean.... the experience of having a spouse in a violent country, caught in a war that has become divisive, to the point where some people would prefer that veterans, soldiers and their families are invisible. The release came while my head rested on the floor --one leg behind me, the other folded beneath my chest, and my arms and hands laid out in front of me.

But the packed class had built up so much heat, that many had quit after hour 1. Now, at the second hour, every mineral was gone, every lymph gland twisted and drained and my tears could easily be mistaken for sweat. I was ...a sopping, sobbing mess. Because, I knew. It wasn't only him, it was everything that had ever hurt in the past year. This Hokusai wave that had taken me from busy practice owner and manager with employees, to where I was at that moment.

Key Words: At that moment.
And so it passed. Because what yoga reinforces for me is to focus in on where I am at that point in time. Not what happened yesterday, last year, nor what might happen tomorrow. This isn't to say we don't bemoan the past, that we don't have strong emotions, and that we don't worry. But what it has become is a way to turn all that off if even for a short moment, to calm down, reflect upon what I have and proceed with gratitude and joy.

Special notice: If you're a military veteran with PTSD living near Phoenix AZ, former Army Infantry Officer Eric Walrabenstein, has designed a pilot program for stress management using Yoga. He's offering 5-week trial to interested individuals who want to take twice weekly classes to reduce their symptoms of anxiety, depression and stress. This project, called THRIVE will be released worldwide to the military and veterans. Best thing: at the end of the 5 week trial, those participating regularly will receive a $150 stipend. Go to Yoga Pura.

Steve Ross led the special two hour workshop I took part in on Saturday. I highly recommend his book.

My Daughter's Shirt

The surgical practice has closed, but the requests for records still come in. Just recently, I ferried a request for records from a former patient. At first I didn't remember the patient, but after looking through their chart, it all came back.
Cancer.
We'd operated, she went through chemo. She was cured.
But the request for records signaled problems.
Over the years, we had many patients. Most, we cured. Others, we shepherded through to a dignified end. Many left an imprint on us, changed us in some way, reminded us of needs other than our own. I found her chart, wished her well, and mailed it.
Then, I opened the email.
The Hubs sent me a photo of one of his littlest patients. He wanted to thank me for sending some small shirts to replace the ones that were cut off when they came to the clinic with injuries. But wait a minute ...I knew that shirt. It had been our daughter's, and now a little girl in Afghanistan was wearing it in the hospital unit.
The war came crashing upon me.
I wished this shirt could be a Talisman for her. Because unlike our daughter, who wore it before her, this little girl hasn't gone to school. She hasn't lived a life -- free from fear she'd be blown up, maimed or have family members disappear. This little girl was born into chaos.
And I wished that by wearing it, her life could be different.
I wished the shirt magically could bring back the leg, which the team had to amputate.
I wished the shirt were a time wizard that could set back her life by a day, make her take a different route, so that none of this ever happened.
But it won't.
And that's the shitty thing about war. The consequences can be the bitterest of syrups for us to swallow and live with. We grapple for thoughts, especially those of us watching it from afar, not able to do anything, except wait, watch and hope.
The team is trying to get her to Jalalabad via private means to be fit with a prothesis.
I'm sure for the team and for The Hubs there will be many cases like this.
But for me, this little girl wearing my daughter's shirt, in a makeshift unit in a remote part of Afghanistan, one leg amputated, is the person imprinted on me.

HELLLLPPPP!!

Okay, so I'm not sure I have the stomach for this.
The anticipation, the twists and turns, the near misses, the careening downhill and the slow tortuous passes.
Of course, I'm talking about a teaching our son to drive, while The Hubs is away.
This is the job for a veteran who has seen combat, hence, is far more qualified to dismiss the pit I feel as we merge into busy boulevards. Today, he decided he could turn right on a red light without stopping. Yes, that's right. His rules. My life. Good lord.
He has had three weeks practice in New Mexico with his doting grandpa. And of course, now... it's show time and he's practicing to get his license here in California.

But really, do I trust a teen, whose idea of "bombing hills" is to take a longboard start at the top and slalom all the way to the bottom?
Meanwhile, I'm wearing a hole through my flip flops as my toes clench, I'm having remember to do things like breathe. And don't wear a hole through the floor of the passenger seat floor.