Got a problem? The Dolly Mama is here for you. You can find her by writing us here.
Dear Dolly,
There is a tree growing out of the chimney above my parsonage roof. After the building in Surfside’s collapse, I wonder what to do. I certainly don’t want to move into the Nile River. DENIAL is not just a river in Egypt. I am way too upset about the long denial in Miami Beach–as if there could be any survivors remaining after the long days after the moonlit collapse. My landlords (my congregation is my landlord) have tried extensively to repair this matter and every time they spend a lot of money, the tree grows back. I have even given it a name, “the tree that keeps growing in Brooklyn.” We are not in Brooklyn.
Should I just start pretending the tree is not there? Like the people in Surfiside ignored their need for repair? Or just keep throwing money at the problem? What if we’re not rich enough to fix the problem? What if the nation itself is not rich enough to fix its problems? We are not the only people with trees growing out of our chimneys.
Anti-Nile
Dear Anti-Nile,
Your speech and your goodness in writing has moved you onto the shore, out of the river of denial. You aren’t just ignoring your problem, you are ignoring it intentionally. “No vale la Pena” is what someone speaking Spanish would say. It’s not worth the money. So, acknowledge danger and move on.
Whatever happened in Surfside had to do with people not thinking they could afford to be safe. Do examine yourself deeply. What if someone got hurt by a falling fireplace? What would be your cost assessment of your refused risk or expense? What if it was a child?
Then again, consider the percentages. If the tree has lasted this long in its cozy home above the non-working fireplace – say 50 years just for the sake of the argument – isn’t it likely to happily co-exist with the yard and the roof for a while longer, perhaps its own life span?
Or do you take the fireplace out and let the tree freeze next winter, fall into the living room, and clean up the mess from the depths instead of the tops of your house. If the tree survived, since it is a survivor, perhaps plant it as a memorial? A memorial to those of us who aren’t heroic, who often don’t do the right thing, who usually can’t afford the right thing?
Dolly
Dear Dolly,
I wonder why we use the language of why master bedroom. Does a bedroom really need a master? Are the other occupants of the master bedroom enslaved? I understand the word master gardener. It means somebody who has taken lots of courses and knows how to deal with a lot of bugs. But master gardeners are masters of flowers and vegetables. Why does a bureau or a bed or a shower need a master?
I also wonder about the word alarm clock. I like waking up every day. It is a joy. I’d like my alarm clock to be a woke machine. Woke up this morning with joy on my mind. And gratitude. Why alarm?
Plus, neither of these languages has much fun to it.
The Slow Food Movement from the East End of Long Island bakes sour dough bread for the poor. They call it “Flour Power.”
They also say, “it’s the Yeast we can do.”
Mastery of Nothing
Dear Mastery,
I recommend you make a sour dough starter, bake some bread, refer to your alarm clock as your wake up call, your master bedroom as just a bedroom. And pay attention to your words. Spend a day without a war metaphor…shoot no emails. Win no battles. Lose no battles. If you have cancer, don’t wage war against it.
Weaponize no words. It is the least you can do.
Dolly
Who is the Dolly Mama?
The Dolly Mama is a spiritual version of Dear Abby. Her intention is to combine the irreverence of Dolly Parton with the surrender and non-attachment beloved by Buddhists. She wants to let go of what can’t be fixed – in either self or others – and fix what can by applying the balm of humor.
She is a spiritual handyperson, a soul mechanic, a repairer of broken appliances. Every now and then the combination of letting go and hanging on achieves sufficient balance for an improvement in spiritual posture, stronger spine, and personal peace. The Dolly Mama is not her day job. By day, she works as an ordained United Church of Christ and American Baptist pastor of a regular, if edgy, congregation.