"Rock, Paper, Scissors"

Just a few days ago I was surprised to find a friend who had never played "Rock, Paper, Scissors". Seriously - she asked to learn something I thought everyone already knew. I thought everyone had played this silly childhood game at some point in their lives. Discovering this "newbie" in our group naturally caused us all to question "Just where did Rock, Paper, Scissors come from?"

So this morning, waiting for inspiration to strike here in the blog-o-sphere, I turned to my old friend Google. There I found this posting from a newspaper column that goes by the name of "The Straight Dope"...

"You might think that "Rock, Paper, Scissors" is just a kid's game, but the fact is that some people take it very seriously. Too seriously, I'm starting to think. As is the case with most games that are primarily played by children, the exact time and place when the game was invented are unknown. There are theories, however. Geez, are there theories.

First, for the three people in the country who may be unfamiliar with the game, a short description:

"Rock, Paper, Scissors," also known as roshambo (I'll get to the reason for this presently), has been around for a long time, and most civilized people have at least a passing knowledge of the game. It is most often used to decide small matters between two people--who'll drive to the burger joint, who has to take out the garbage, etc.--but it can also be played to decide larger matters, as part of a tournament, or simply as a diversion.

The basics of the game consist of each player shaking a fist a number of times ("priming") and then extending the same hand in a fist ("rock"), out flat ("paper"), or with the index and middle fingers extended ("scissors"). Each of these is referred to as a throw, and which one wins is dependent upon the opponent's throw--paper wins against rock ("paper covers rock"), rock wins against scissors ("rock crushes, or dulls, scissors"), and scissors wins against paper ("scissors cut paper"). If each player makes the same throw, the round is a stalemate, and must be replayed.

Back in January of this year, someone in the Edmonton area had the same question as you've posed, Scott. The woman apparently was unfamiliar with our illustrious Unca Cecil, so instead of coming to the Straight Dope, she called local radio station CBC 740 AM, where morning host Ron Wilson runs a segment called "The Good Question" each morning. Mr. Wilson went to the same source that I went to for information, namely the World Rock Paper Scissors Society (hard to believe, ain't it?). The telephone interview that he conducted with a Society member by the name of Doug Walker, which I'll summarize here, can be found in its entirety at edmonton.cbc.ca/radio1/edm-am/goodques.html.

Mr. Walker claims that the earliest known written record of the game is from around 200 BC in Japan, where the game was (and is) referred to as "Jan-Ken." I found the existence of the Japanese version of the game corroborated elsewhere, although I have yet to find any corroboration for the 200 BC claim. Mr. Walker goes on to suggest that the game migrated to Europe in or by the mid-1700s, where it for some reason came to be associated with one Jean Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, Comte de Rochambeau. If this name brings back unsettling memories of high school history, it is because Jean Baptiste was none other than the French general who was sent to command an army in support of George Washington during the American Revolution. Why this game came to be associated with the "Count of Rochambeau" is a mystery, but it certainly calls into question the means by which Washington secured Cornwallis's surrender in Yorktown. In any case, it does explain the name often used for the game, namely "rochambeau," or, more commonly, "roshambo."

This isn't the only theory about the origins of the game. A guy who goes by the handle "Master Roshambollah" on the bulletin board of the World RPS Society website (www.worldrps.com) lists two common theories about the origins of the game besides "the Asian theory": "the African theory," which relies on the creation of tools by early man in much the same way as the Asian theory, and "the European theory," in which RPS was either an early Scandinavian pastime which spread to Europe, or a traditional Celtic game that spread to Portugal and then to Europe. The European theory is advanced by another poster on the board who calls himself "Joao V de Portugal": "Current research undertaken at the University of Lisbon by Baltasar Rui Delfim, soon to be published in Nature and Time, has shown that the origins of the game of Paper, Scissors and Rock (Pihedra, Papelsh e Tijhera) can be attributed to Celtic settlers in the northern regions of Portugal, near the Portuguese/Spanish border, around the 6th century BC. . . . It is believed that the game spread to the rest of Portugal in the 3rd century BC and to the rest of the Spanish peninsula over the next 50 years. Roman invasion of Hispania in the 1st century AD made the game popular in Gallia and Italia. However, the Romans did not introduce the game to the UK because they believed that the game could make the UK colonies rebel against the Senate and it was not until the Portuguese armada of 350 AD came to England that the game was properly introduced in Britannia."

"What", you may ask, "does this have to do with anything?!" Believe it or not, I do find a connection between this fascinating trivia and the process of Re-birthing. Or at least, there is some wisdom to be gleaned from the trivial pursuit itself! It occurs to me that if there are people who do not know about "Rock, Paper, Scissors" - something I thought everyone had grown up playing - that there may be a whole universe of wisdom I can learn from others. My world view comes from my experience of the world. And that may be vastly different from yours. The only way I will find that out is if I stick around long enough, trust enough, listen enough, and CARE enough to learn. In this way perhaps you can act as a midwife to my birthing, and I can return the favor for you. Thank God for different experiences, different perspectives, and the richness they bring... whether I choose rock, or paper, or scissors!

"Bumps in the Road"

One of the most irritating realities of human life for me is the way in which we are formed - and transformed - by  our wounds.  I can accept the fact that it is the bumps in the road which give the journey its variety, even its beauty.  I can appreciate the growth of spiritual and emotional muscle which occurs as we exercise the spirit.  What I really don't get is why the bumps and bruises persist!  How long, O Lord!  

How long do any of us have to work on healing?  How long - how many times - must the same bump trip me up in my road?  It seems such an inefficient way to grow!  And, such a human experience.  

So here I am, putting down more muscle, building up more strength as I revisit the bumps in my road.  My hope is it will be a brief visit this time around.  And that one day I won't have to trip over this particular bump.  One day, I'd like to just notice it and go on.  I am reminded of a little bit of wisdom I found several years ago:

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS

by Portia Nelson

I

I walk down the street. 
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk 
I fall in. 
I am lost ... I am helpless. 
It isn't my fault. 
It takes me forever to find a way out.

II

I walk down the same street. 
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 
I pretend I don't see it. 
I fall in again. 
I can't believe I am in the same place 
but, it isn't my fault. 
It still takes a long time to get out.

III

I walk down the same street. 
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 
I see it is there. 
I still fall in ... it's a habit. 
my eyes are open 
I know where I am. 
It is my fault. 
I get out immediately.

IV

I walk down the same street. 
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 
I walk around it.

V

I walk down another street.

"The Wings of Grace"

While on our Hawaiian adventure we decided to go to church the second Sunday.  The service was rather disappointing and the congregation a little depressed.  And yet, as always, there was a kernel of blessing for me.  I found it in one of the (very old) hymns we sang, "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty".

The song felt chosen for me and my daughter, especially when we got to the last verse:

"Praise to the Lord, who doth nourish thy life and restore thee,

fitting thee well for the tasks that are ever before thee.

Then to thy need, God as a mother doth speed,

spreading the wings of grace o'er thee."

What a great image as we begin a significant transition in life - she to college and me to myself.  We both have great lessons to learn.  We both have new environments to inhabit, new teachers to trust, new friends to find.  It is good to be reminded of the life-giving and life-restoring nature of God's love.  And it is great to recognize those "wings of grace" spreading over me.

"Wailea Wonder"

Please bear with me for one more reflection from Maui. This one comes from Wailea Beach (considered by some to be the best beach in the US!). We had gotten there early in the day, had laid down our mats and had even taken the first swim before the beach started to fill. As I let the sun dry the saltwater off my body I began to people-watch in earnest.

Soon my attention was centered on the neighbors to our right, who appeared to be enjoying a family reunion. There were about 6 or 7 adults and an equal number of children between the ages of 5 and 12, all boys. While the adults chatted, sharing morning coffee and family memories, the boys ran into the water. They splashed and wrestled, laughed and swam with abandon. And all the while, they were watched.

One by one the adults in that family took turns providing safety and security for the children. They took about 20 minute shifts, and everyone - aunts, uncles, moms, dads, grandparents even - took their turn. If the wrestling got a little too wild or the teasing too intense, the guardian would shift the play. If someone ventured a little too far from shore or became a little too oblivious to their surroundings, again the guardian would caution and correct.

As I watched I got to thinking: "Every child should be so loved and protected." It is true - every child deserves the kind of safety and security - the kind of love - which those boys undoubtedly took for granted. It was a wonder to watch.

Later that same day the surf grew and the current intensified. The boys were still in the water, and it was time for a guardian shift change, when the youngest child fell off his boogie board and was hit by a wave. First he was smashed into the sand and then the current picked him up and dragged him out to the line of the next cresting wave. You could see the panic in his eyes as he struggled against the surf. I was just about on my feet when another neighbor - a stranger to the family - reached the boy, scooped him up and brought him back to safety on the sand.

Of course everyone was a little shaken, and grateful for the quickness of the neighbor. And I thought to myself: "Maybe it is possible for every child to be loved and protected. It is possible if we remember we all are neigbors." What a wonder that would be - in Wailea, in the whole wide world.

"A Woman of Substance"

Vacation was FABULOUS this year - 10 glorious days on the island of Maui, just me and my youngest daughter. It was not only a great time to rest and relax, but also a time for each of us to prepare for our next steps in re-birthing... she to college for the first time, and me to new freedom with both daughters out in the world and just puppy left at home with me.

Most days were the same for us on Maui - wake up around 6 am, have breakfast on the lanai by 7, then hit the beach by 8:30 or 9:00, to swim in the ocean and bake in the sun until we grew hungry for lunch. After lunch it was either go to a new beach or swim in the condo's pool, maybe do a little light reading or some very light shopping until supper time, after which we would try our best to read, watch tv or a movie... and end up falling asleep by 9:00. It was a great routine!

One day, we drove out to Kaanapali beach, some distance from our Kihei condo, and in a much pricier neighborhood, judging by the Hyatt, the Marriott, the Westin and the like. After a few hours on the beach, we strolled through the resort grounds and even snuck into one of the ritzy pools (don't tell anyone!) On the way back to our much more modest digs my daughter surprised me with this comment: "Mom", she said, "I'm glad we're not rich."

Clearly that is a subjective statement, for "rich" depends upon one's context. I know there are many for whom a trip to Hawaii would seem like the height of wealth, and there are countless for whom my home, my car, my lifestyle, my children's college educations can only be pipe dreams. And yet, walking through the opulent resorts, past the meticulously groomed gardens and the amazing water features, we felt significantly out-classed.

When I asked my daughter what she meant - who wouldn't want to be rich? - she replied, "I'd much rather have a mother who is a woman of substance than a woman of means." She went on to thank me for values imparted which focus on what she identifies as "substance" rather than on money.

I am grateful for that perspective. Grateful, and a little bit humbled by my daughter's wisdom. It is easy to mistake possessions for power, to confuse money for value. And while I rejoice in blessings both personal and material, I hope to live in the perspective that says "substance is more important than means"...at least until the next time I sneak a swim at the Kaanapali Hyatt.

"A Very Happy Un-Birthday"

Well, I missed it. I missed my own "half-birthday", August 6th! I had been thinking it would be good to celebrate in some way the mid-point to this year of Re-Birthing for me. I thought about it in June. It crossed my mind in July. And then I totally spaced it out until today!

This forgetfulness is not a total tragedy. Clearly it is possible to celebrate Re-Birth in every day, and August 9th is as good as the 6th for a Happy Un-Birthday to me! So where have I been, (and more importantly), what have I learned in this six months of Re-Birthing?

1. I have learned that moving on (even a little) in the direction of God's desires for me is like Jesus walking on the water! It is good to recognize progress made and to rejoice in every success we achieve.
2. I have (finally) realized that an "All or Nothing" approach to life is counter-productive. Perfection is highly over-rated and focusing on it robs us of so much of life's wonder.
3. I have come to reject the lock-step, one-size-fits-all approach to transformation. If change is to be lasting it must be personal.
4. I have learned that observation is not the same as judgment, and that nobody can observe themselves objectively. That is why we need community!
5. I have begun to recognize the intertwining threads of my life - especially when it comes to emotions and fears. You cannot pull one without affecting the others.
6. I have seen how limiting my own judgments can become. I can be an artist (or anything else) if I decide to see the beauty of my creativity, and if I believe that anything is possible.
7. I have learned to practice prioritizing. It is a waste of time to major in the minors.
8. I have improved my ability to stay fully present to the presence of God in the present. This requires hanging in with myself and then letting God be God.
9. I have realized the folly of trying to run from change. The best response is to rejoice in the opportunities change presents.
10. I have found that every beginning begins with an ending. Life is all about saying "goodbye" in order to say "hello".
11. I have recognized the crazy-making patterns of thought. No more "what ifs", "if onlys", or "comparisons" for me!
12. I have affirmed the importance of Sabbath and the practice of agility. We all need to take time to remember what time is for.
13. I have discovered that to follow my desire for re-birth is to keep that star in my sight. It requires me to follow to places I cannot even yet imagine.
14. And... I have learned to celebrate every step along the way. Every dream, vision, and goal deserves a life of joy at the moment of its conception and throughout its path to completion.

Not bad for six months! Let me return again to the prayer which sustains me and propels me onward, this prayer for Re-Birth:

You, God, have placed your Truth in my inner being;

Therefore, teach me the wisdom of my heart.

Forgive all that binds me in fear, that I might radiate love.

Cleanse me, that your light might shine in me.

Fill me with gladness; help me to transform weakness into strength.

Look not on my past mistakes, but on the aspirations of my heart. Amen.

(From "Psalms for Praying", by Nan C. Merrill, Psalm 51)

"Never Put Off Until Tomorrow..."

Years ago I received a card from my sister, who was trying her best to help me to lighten up a little. The card showed Lucy from the Peanuts gang, dispensing her famous psychiatric advice, and it offered up this little bit of wisdom: "Never put off until tomorrow what you can put off until the day AFTER tomorrow!"

I kept that card for many years because it made me laugh. But also because there really is some wisdom in Lucy's advice. It is not just about "putting off", or avoiding the unpleasant tasks we face. It is not just about procrastination. It is also about prioritization. How many times have I let the insignificant crowd the really important out of my day? How many times have any of us "majored in the minors"?

In the movie "City Slickers", Jack Parlance plays a crusty old cowboy who lives by his own code of ethics, what might be called "Curly's Law", summed up in this little bit:

Curly: Do you know what the secret of life is?

Curly: This. [holds up one finger]

Mitch: Your finger?

Curly: One thing. Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don't mean shit.

Mitch: But what is the "one thing?"

Curly: [smiles] That's what you have to find out.

Curly's Law, Do One Thing... It's a variation on Lucy's prescription and my own intuition. In order for me to find out what my "one thing" is, I have to go through a continual process of prioritization. I have to find out what is major and what is minor, each and every day. And then I have to surround myself with people who will support my majoring in the majors and letting go of the minors. Because I don't want to put off until tomorrow what I can easily put off until the day after (or the week after, the month after, the year after, the decade after...) tomorrow.