Friday, March 15, 2024

On being ... back in high school

 By Ingrid Sapona 

I don’t think about high school too often, but working on my taxes this week took me right back to Advanced Placement physics. Well, it reminded me of one particular “skill” I honed in AP physics. I’ll explain in a minute. First a bit of background: my taxes are not as straightforward as some peoples’. There are two reasons for this: I’m self employed and I have to file in both the U.S. and Canada. Because of these complications, for the past 35 years I’ve had my returns professionally prepared. 

This year, however, I decided to do my Canadian returns myself. (The U.S. returns seem exponentially more complicated so my CPA friend is still doing them.) I’m using a well-known tax prep software and answering the questions and inputting the information is straightforward. To ensure that I provide information in the exact same way as I have in the past – and to ensure no details are missing – I’ve been using my CPA-prepared returns from last year as my guide. 

All was well until I got to the part about the sales tax (GST we call it) on my business services. I know my accountant always filed my GST return based on something called “the simplified method”. I’ve never really understood the calculation. My accountant simply did the math and told me whether I owed or whether I was getting a refund because I had over-remitted the sales tax. But, since I’m doing my returns myself, I knew this would be something I would have to finally understand. I read – and re-read – all the Canada Revenue guidance on the simplified method and past explanations my accountant had sent me over the years. 

I spent hours multiplying different numbers together, hoping to figure out how my accountant arrived at the amounts reported on last year’s return. It was this that brought me right back to AP Physics. To be more precise, it reminded me of cheating on physics test questions that required application of a calculation to derive a numeric answer. You see, we were allowed to use slide rules (yes, I went to high school last century!) or a pocket calculator, if we had one. My classmate Pete (who I believe went on to become an actuary) was a whiz at physics and he had a calculator. So, he would work through the calculation and then he’d send the calculator down the row of desks, “lending” his calculator to those of us who didn’t have our own. Of course, what we were really “borrowing” was the answer that Pete conveniently left showing on the screen of his calculator. 

Though I’m not proud that I borrowed Pete’s calculator, er, answers, I didn’t feel that bad because we only got partial credit for having the right numerical answer. For full credit you had to show how you arrived at the number. So, with Pete’s help, many of us learned the useful skill of how to back into a calculation. Indeed, that was what I was trying to do to figure out how my CPA applied the simplified method in years past. After an entire afternoon on a roller coaster ride that lurched between thinking I’m too stupid to figure out the method and wondering if, perhaps, my accountant had miscalculated last year – I was overcome with another sensation from AP physics: near defeat. 

It's funny the things we learn in school – and how it is they show up for us later in life. I’m sure my AP physics teacher thought he was teaching us about gravitational forces and energy and such. I only remember a wee bit of that, but I sure remember the determination needed to figure out how you get to a particular answer.   

After sleeping on it and realizing that even the most determined forensic accountant might need help sometimes, the next day I emailed an accountant friend for help. Though he said he didn’t deal much with the simplified method, he managed to re-phrase the wording on the form in a way that helped me understand what figure plugs in where. After that I was able to come up with the numbers from last year and then I simply had to plug in the respective numbers are for this year’s return. Whew. 

Though I spent a heck of a lot of time on my returns this year, it’s been kind of empowering. You see, I was audited once. An IRS agent came up from the U.S. and I spent an entire day sitting with him at my dining room table as he went through my receipts and invoices, asking me questions. The result of the audit was that he found a transposition error in one figure and I ended up owing a whopping $20. Though the audit was financially inconsequential, it left me with unnatural dread about having to justify each and every item on my returns. 

I’m happy to report that now, having taken over the task of preparing my own returns, I feel more confident. I sure hope I’m never audited again, but at least now I know I can recreate the calculations behind all the figures – even the simplified method. Thanks Pete, wherever you are… 

© 2024 Ingrid Sapona

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

On being ... not a bonus for all

 By Ingrid Sapona 

I publish On being… on the 15th and 30th of the month. (In February I publish on the 15th and 28th.) Given this schedule, I have an affinity for months with 31 days because I have an extra day to come up with a topic for the following 15th. By this logic, you’d think I’d hate February because from the 15th to the28th is only 13 days. All I can say is that February’s my birth month so I love it regardless of its brevity. 

Actually, the fact that every four years we get a Leap Day is perhaps another reason I love February. As for Leap Day itself, the whole Sadie Hawkins Day stuff has always charmed me. (If you’re not familiar with what I’m talking about, check out one of the sweetest movies of all time: Leap Year, starring a very young Amy Adams and Matthew Goode.) But even without that blarney, I’ve always thought of the extra day as a quirky celestial bonus. 

So, when I realized this is a Leap Year, the idea of writing about the delights of this bonus day was obvious. But this past week – in part because it marked the start of the third year of war in Ukraine – I began to think about what an extra day in the year might mean to others. On reflection, I realize that the extra day for so many is far from a bonus. Instead, it’s likely an extra day of suffering. 

For the millions of people who live in refugee camps it’s another day of queueing for food, water, and even to use the toilet. For the millions in the world starving, it means another day of empty bellies. For people living in war zones, it means another day of living in fear for their lives and homes. For children in war-torn countries, it means another day without school or trying to have a normal life in a bomb shelter or bunker. For the family members of those fighting on the front line, it means another day of worry and loneliness. For all the war-wounded, it means another day of pain and suffering. For political prisoners it means another day of unjust confinement. For women living under the thumb of theocratic regimes, it means another day of repression. 

These harsh realities gave me great pause about whether to write about Leap Day being a bonus. Trite doesn’t begin to describe my concern… But then I thought about the fact that if these columns are to have any relevance, reference to reflections about what’s going on in the real world is important, even if the thoughts arise in a roundabout way. 

Though the springboard for On being… is my experiences, thoughts, and emotions, I always hope that it will be a catalyst for readers to reflect on how they feel about the particular topic. In this case, regardless of what Leap Day means to you, I hope it provides you with time to reflect on the suffering of others and on what we can do to bring change and help to those suffering. 

© 2024 Ingrid Sapona

Thursday, February 15, 2024

On being … expressions of love

By Ingrid Sapona        

This is the day after Valentine’s Day, which means we have 366 days (it’s a Leap Year!) to plumb the depths of our love language(s) before Valentine’s 2025. Regardless of whether yesterday was a day of delight, disappointment, or an otherwise unremarkable Wednesday, the day has prompted me to think about expressions of love. 

The notion of “love languages” was introduced by Gary Chapman in: The five love languages: how to express heartfelt commitment to your mate (first published in 1992 and reprinted many times since). I first heard about the book in 2018 when a speaker on a panel discussion recommended it. She said understanding what someone’s love language is helped her communicate more effectively. One of the reasons the book recommendation jumped out at me was that it was made at an electricity sector conference – not some self-improvement seminar. I was curious about love languages, so I read the book. 

The idea is that all of us speak and understand emotional love in certain ways, which Chapman calls languages. (For those familiar with Chapman’s work, forgive the oversimplification.) Based on years of speaking with married folks, Chapman believes there are five love languages: 1) words of affirmation; 2) quality time; 3) receiving gifts; 4) acts of service; and 5) physical touch. Chapman also mentions there can be different “dialects” within the various languages and that some folks are “bilingual”, meaning two love languages are equally important to them. Your primary love language is the main way you feel loved and valued. 

At first, I didn’t really feel any of the five languages applied to me. I’m not big on receiving compliments or gifts, and I’ve never been much of a hugger – so that eliminates three right off the bat. And, I’m pretty self-sufficient, so acts of service aren’t that important to me. But I love having in-depth, one-on-one conversations with people. That’s why at parties you’ll often find me off in a corner chatting with just one guest, rather than laughing with the group. My primary love language is quality time, no doubt. 

But knowing your own love language is just half the equation. The real trick is in figuring out what others’ love languages are. The key to happy, loving relationships, according to Chapman, is communicating using the love language of the person you are trying to reach. If your primary love language is words of affirmation but the other person’s is receiving gifts, complimenting them for being beautiful or brilliant won’t mean nearly as much to them as bringing them a flower or trinket. In other words, if you don’t speak to someone in their primary love language, whatever you say (or do) will be about as effective as speaking to them in a foreign language. 

Recently, in an email, a friend was telling me that she was looking forward to her kids’ visit and that she was planning a few nice meals for that time. She then joked that food is her love language. I knew that she wasn’t talking about her emotional love language, as Chapman meant. She was talking about one of the ways she expresses her love to others. Anyway, I was amused by the idea of food as a love language and I said so, adding that I can relate. 

She wrote back right away and said she was sure that I did “get it”. She mentioned the way I try new recipes, making detailed notes on them and then sharing those (comments included) that I think are good, and my cookie of the summer phase. She then wrote, “I see those as acts of love.” I was flattered that she cared enough to pay such close attention to my behaviour and delighted that she appreciated my efforts. I felt both heard and validated by my friend, and closer as a result. 

It seems to me that the first step to becoming closer with others – intimate partners and friends – is paying attention to what matters to them. It’s not rocket science – most people give plenty of hints (like annotations on a recipe). And, once you figure out what they appreciate – assuming you care about them – pleasing them will come naturally. 

© 2024 Ingrid Sapona


Monday, January 15, 2024

On being … offline

by Ingrid Sapona     

I have to admit, I’m not really looking forward to the tumult that I fear is lurking in 2024… 

But, I’m doing my best to put it out of my mind this month, preferring to take in some sun, salsa, and mojitos. 

See you mid-February. 

© 2024 Ingrid Sapona

Saturday, December 30, 2023

On being … the 2023 Alpha Year-in-Review

By Ingrid Sapona 

As you’ll see, this list includes more than 26 entries. That’s because there are a few letters for which I couldn’t decide on one meaning for 2023. I do wonder what stories and topics caught your attention this year and – by extension – what different letters of the alphabet stood out for you. 

A is for Adriana – the ship that capsized off Greece on June 14th. More than 600 people died in this disaster that few people took notice of, especially once the submersible with the millionaires looking for the Titanic went missing. 

B is for Bharat – India by any other name

C is for CHAT GPT – the app that had 100 million monthly users in January 2023 and over 180 million users by November. Hard to say what the ultimate impact of the AI “disruption” will bring, but surely it will not be positive on all fronts. 

D is for dictatorship – see also the entry for J. 

D is for divorce – Marjorie Taylor Greene tweeted in February that a U.S. civil war between the left and the right can be averted with a legal agreement she termed a “national divorce”. Ok, so will the first clause of the agreement require everyone to turn in their guns? If not, such an agreement wouldn’t be worth the paper it’s written on. 

E is for ESG (which stands for Environmental, Social, and Governance) – a bogeyman for right-wing Wall Street critics but ethical, responsible concerns to the rest of us. 

F is for fire – wildfires blanketed much of the North East in June, with New York suffering the worst air quality in the world at certain times. For those with respiratory issues, such events are a literal taste of climate change. 

F is for fealty – this is what Trump will demand, if re-elected. (Maybe it’ll be the word of the year for 2024?) 

G is for global south – less developed countries in the southern hemisphere that stand to suffer most in the near term from climate change even though they’ve only negligibly contributed to climate change. 

H is for hyperbole – some meteorologists expressed concern this year that weather forecasts talking about things like “bomb cyclones” end up turning people off to the point that they are in danger from having ignored the real danger. 

I is for International Criminal Court – sadly, 2023 was a very busy year for this earnest body and it’s looking like 2024 will bring even more atrocities and dictators and generals for it to prosecute. 

J is for joking? – after all that we’ve witnessed with Trump, how can anyone believe that when he says he’s going to be a dictator on day one he’s joking? See the entry for R. 

K is for ketchup – well, not just any old ketchup: Pepsi Colachup is the official name of the Pepsi-infused condiment developed by Pepsi in conjunction with the Culinary Institute of America (CIA). It was launched at four different pro baseball fields on July 4, 2023. If you missed it – like I did – well, you missed it. "The concept is both simple and creative," said David Kamen, director of client experience for CIA Consulting, the institute's consulting arm, in a statement announcing the condiment. "The distinctive flavors and vibrant citrus blend of Pepsi enhances the bright and tangy characteristics of ketchup, offsetting the smokiness of the hot dog." (If you’re like me, you aren’t feeling too bad about having missed it.) 

L is for lima beans – what ever happened to them? Granted, I’m probably the ONLY person you’ve ever heard of who likes – no, LOVES – lima beans, but my question is why are they so hard to find nowadays? 

M is for microplastics – humans dump 11 million tons of plastic into the ocean every year. Microplastics (generally defined as pieces that are less than 5 millimetres long) and nano-plastics (bits smaller than 5 millimeters and that are capable of crossing the membranes between cells) are showing up in fish, not to mention human breastmilk and placentas. Given that one of the perceived benefits of plastic is that lasts so long, shouldn’t we all be alarmed enough to realize we all have a role – and a stake – in reducing plastic waste? 

N is for New International Economic Order (NIEO) – In May 1974 the U.N. General Assembly adopted a Declaration on the Establishment of a New International Economic Order. To prepare for the 50th anniversary of the NIEO declaration, delegates from over 25 countries met in Havana in January with the intention of developing a new political vision for managing the world economy. With so much political backlash aimed at the folks behind World Economic Forum, and with so more countries concerned about the cost of climate change-related matters, attempts to revive interest in a NIEO have to be a positive step. 

O is for oil – oil interests succeeded in resisting calls for phasing out fossil fuels at COP 28. Instead, participants agreed that the world must transition away from fossil fuels in energy systems. The results of COP 28 weren’t that surprising given that, for example, in May Exxon rejected a shareholder proposal requiring it to report on the risks to its business from restrictions on greenhouse gas emissions. Exxon said the prospect of the world achieving net-zero CO2 emissions by 2050 is remote because: "It is highly unlikely that society would accept the degradation in global standard of living required to permanently achieve a scenario like the IEA [International Energy Agency] NZE [Net Zero Emissions]." 

P is for passkey – tired of passwords? Don’t worry, they are so yesterday! Passkeys are – apparently – the next wave. So eventually, all 500+ passwords that I store in SplashData (my password app) will become obsolete as websites will encourage use of passkeys instead. Great … 

Q is for QAnon – just because some of us aren’t paying attention to conspiracy theories and other craziness doesn’t mean it’s not front and centre (and motivational) to many, many “believers”. 

R is for retribution – at the CPAP conference in March, Trump made it clear that that’s what he’s all about, saying: “In 2016, I declared: I am your voice. Today, I add: I am your warrior. I am your justice. And for those who have been wronged and betrayed: I am your retribution.” Ugh … 

S is for skunk terms – these are term that politicians and others latch on to and that are “increasingly used in such toxic ways that they “stink” too much to be used in their original context.” See the entry for W. 

T is for trigger warning – they’ve become so commonplace they’re probably losing their oomph

T is for Türkiye – apparently in 2022 the United Nations approved of this spelling and in January 2023 the U.S. State Department adopted the change in its written communications. Seems Turks have used this spelling for the past century! Here’s to finding the alternative alphabets in your word processing program. 

U is for unidentified anomalous phenomena – this is a re-branding of unidentified aerial phenomena and its predecessor: UFO. Regardless of what we call them, rest assured UAPs are not aliens, according to July testimony before a House Oversight Committee hearing on UFOs. Whew …

V is for vindication – what Donald Trump thinks he’s going to get when re-elected. See also the entries for R, J, and D. 

W is for woke and weaponized – the fact that certain groups mislabel any social justice matter as woke and thereby something to be ridiculed and dismissed shows their ignorance of the word’s meaning. The extent to which those same people have managed to weaponize their use of the label is scary. 

X is for Twitter – so says Elon Musk. For the rest of us, it’s just a silly name change that requires news folks to add the disclaimer “formerly known as Twitter” every time they talk about some tweet. 

Y is for younger – in June, South Koreans became younger because South Korea officially abandoned its “traditional” way of counting age. They used to consider you one (1) the day you are born and then on the following January 1st they added another year, so someone born on Dec. 30th, for example, was one that day and – two days later, on Jan.1st they were two – then on the following Dec. 30th they were three! Now South Korea uses the “international norm” for calculating age. 

Z is for Zelenskyy – how frustrating it must be for Volodymyr Zelenskyy – and for the people of Ukraine – that he has to go hat in hand to different countries for military aid while the people of his country are battling every day for their lives and land. 

As you finish reading the 2023 list, I don’t mind telling you that right now it feels like the 2024 list will start with A for anxiety. I’m quite worried about how 2024 will unfold for the world. Here’s hoping that by this time next year A – and all the other letters – will stand for positive things. 

Before you go, I want to thank you for reading On being … it means a lot to me. 

I wish you and yours good health and much happiness throughout 2024 and I pray for hope and peace for the world. 

© 2023 Ingrid Sapona

Friday, December 15, 2023

On being ... a wastrel (not)

By Ingrid Sapona 

I’m a bit embarrassed to start this by talking about shaving my legs. Yes, seems like TMI (too much information), but I’ll explain… 

Back in February I picked up a can of shaving cream. The day I was shopping for it the store brand was about 60 cheaper than my usual brand. The two looked identical: same size can, same colour scheme on the logo and cap, same scent, etc. So, I went with the store brand. 

I keep the shaving cream on the rim of my tub alongside the shampoo, conditioner, and other bath products. But, because the shaving cream comes in a can, I make sure it sits on a piece of plastic. (The plastic lid of a Pringles container is the perfect size!) I do this because sometimes the rim of the can leaves a bit of rust on the tub, despite the manufacturer’s claim the cans have a rust-proof aluminum bottom. 

Two or so weeks after I bought the shaving cream, I noticed a trace of rust on the plastic. (Sure glad I’ve got that Pringles lid, I thought.) After a few more weeks the ring of rust was dark and thick. I picked up the can for a closer look and I noticed that it didn’t mention a rust-proof bottom. So, the 60 discount wasn’t the only difference; next time I’ll look for a brand with a rust-proof bottom, I promised myself. 

Simple enough promise to keep, you’d think, right? But, turns out there’s something else about this can that’s unusual: it seems to be refilling itself. After 10 months of regular use, the can still feels more than half full! (Actually, for the past couple months I’ve been spritzing out a more generous amount each time in hopes of using it up, but no such luck.) There is so much rust, you’d think the bottom of the can would detach!  

And yet, I can’t bring myself to toss it because it seems such a waste. It’s not just the false economy of the initial 60 savings. It’s about my concerns that we live in a wasteful society and tossing something that is (irritatingly) still usable seems wrong on many levels. I realize that when the can is eventually empty, I’ll toss it and it will end up in some landfill. So what’s the big deal if it ends up there in 2023 or 2024, right? Well, I think it matters because disposing of it while still half full artificially increases demand for the product, which drives increased manufacturing, with all its negative environmental effect. I also think that the ecological impact of a half-full can of chemicals degrading in a landfill has to be worse than an empty can.  

Food waste is another thing I’ve focused on more over the past couple of years. Growing up people used to say “finish your peas” (or whatever) because there are children starving in (fill in the name of a third world country). Well, we don’t say that kind of thing any more because it’s rather racist or in poor taste. But every time I have to toss something that’s gotten fuzzy or moldy or otherwise rotten, I get mad with myself for the waste. With increased famines, floods, heatwaves, and wars making food processing and distribution so difficult, how dare I let food get bad.  

And then there all the “things” that I have (some bought, some given) that I have no use for and that I end up getting rid of. Stuff like costume jewellery or a purse (or tie) that you wore once, or a kitchen or garden tool that someone gave you but that you have no use for. After a bit of a grace period (as I like to think of it, particularly with items I was gifted), I end up “donating” them to places like Goodwill, where they have a reasonable chance of finding a second home. 

Yes, there’s a satisfaction to “donating” such things, but it’s not really all that altruistic. When you think about it, such places are doing us the favour of taking unwanted items off our hands. Sure, the stuff is going to someone who needs/wants it and they’re keeping items out of landfills. That’s all fine, but I think it would be even better if we didn’t have so much stuff that we didn’t need goodwill-type charities in the first place. Indeed, I suspect that more often than not, the main motivation behind such donations is to make space for new things. 

I realize that guilt and worry about waste may not be top of mind as we head into the holiday season. But, a statistic I read the other day made me think that reflecting on wastefulness is perhaps most important at this time of year: of the more than $15 billion of unwanted gifts purchased (just think of that for a minute) by Americans for the 2019 holiday season, 4% went directly to landfill! Unreal on many levels, don’t you think? 

I wish you and yours a holiday filled joy and love and other things that will never rust, go out of style, or end up in landfills. 

© 2023 Ingrid Sapona

Thursday, November 30, 2023

On being ... "curious"

By Ingrid Sapona 

David Brooks is a New York Times columnist I read regularly. Over the years the topics he has chosen to write about have become more people-focused. For example, one of his best columns was about a friend who suffered from depression. He wrote about how when his friend’s depression first emerged, he made the mistake of suggesting things he thought might help lift the depression. He eventually realized, however, that his job as a friend in that circumstance was simply to acknowledge how awful it must feel to suffer from depression and to assure his friend that he’d be there. Unfortunately, his friend ended up committing suicide. 

Brooks recently published a book titled: “How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen.” Given his years of journalism experience and the shift I’ve noticed in him, I thought he’d have some interesting insights on this topic. So, I got the audio book from the library and I listened to it on my daily walks. 

He starts by telling a number of funny stories about himself. The stories drive home the idea that growing up, Brooks was more cerebral than emotional. One anecdote sets the stage best, I think: when he was four, a pre-school teacher told his parents that he doesn’t play with other kids – he just observes them. Of course, though that might not be great behaviour for a four-year-old, it isn’t necessarily bad for a journalist. 

Over the years, Brooks came to realize that if he was more connected to his emotions, he’d experience more joy in life. So, he set out to becoming more emotional and – as he put it – “fully human”. As he was working on becoming more connected to others, he couldn’t help notice an epidemic of anger and meanness. He believes much of the anger is attributable to people feeling unseen or unheard and therefore insulted, which then causes them to lash out. 

Brooks believes treating people with the consideration everyone deserves isn’t just a matter of being more open hearted. He thinks there are some basic social skills that can be learned. Things like being a good listener; learning how to reveal vulnerability appropriately; learning how to offer criticism in a way that’s caring; learning how to sit with someone who is suffering; and so on. He wrote the book to walk us through the skills it takes to know another human being and to make them feel known, seen, and heard. 

I think he’s onto something in terms of teaching social skills that help people connect. But, I almost stopped listening to the book when Brooks advised approaching conversations with others by “being curious”. Curious? Oh… that word is like nails on a chalkboard to me. “Being curious” has become such a pop culture buzzword, it’s almost become meaningless. 

Don’t know what I mean? Here’s are a few examples: the instructor in a mindful meditation class I was in told us that if we notice our mind drifting to some thought, rather than feel like a meditation failure, we should just “be curious” about it and then we should re-focus our attention on our breath. And surely you’ve heard “being curious” invoked as a rationalization for trying something or as an excuse for doing something. 

Giving yourself permission to “be curious” comes up a lot in self-help books and programs. And, when it does, there’s often an unspoken implication that we’ve all repressed the curiosity that comes so naturally to children. But, don’t worry – the self-help expert is giving you permission to reconnect with your curiosity. Seriously, if you’ve not noticed how much talk there is about “being curious”, now that I’ve pointed it out, I’m sure you’ll see how common it is. 

Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against curiosity. Heck, I’ve always felt I have a healthy curiosity and I indulge it routinely (as I suspect you do, too). For example, at a recent get together with some new friends, the conversation turned to memorable vacations. A woman from Zimbabwe regaled us with a story about coming across a pangolin while on a safari. As she spoke, I was curious about what a pangolin looks like so I Wikipediaed it on my phone. I shared the picture with others – as they too were curious about what it looked like. No one told me – or the others who wanted to see the picture – to be curious. We just were – and none of us needed anyone’s permission to satisfy our curiosity! 

Approaching people with curiosity, as Brooks suggests, doesn’t seem to me to be a great way of connecting with them. If someone approached me with curiosity, I’d be more likely to clam up than open up. Where’s the compassion in curiosity? Being curious doesn’t really call for a give-and-take, which is the hallmark of a good conversation. I think people are more likely to engage with you if you show interest in them and in what they have to say. 

Though I disagree with Brooks’ suggestion you should approach others with curiosity, I do think taking an interest in others in a way that makes them feel seen and heard is important. Furthermore, I agree with him that attention to others is a moral act that has the potential to make a profound change in ourselves and society. 

Brooks’ book is an interesting and timely read (or listen), as the holidays will surely present many opportunities to practice the important skills Brooks talks about. In fact, I’d say that doing so may be the best gift you can give to others.

 

© 2023 Ingrid Sapona