Patriarchy

The Mystery within...

My Random House Dictionary of the English Language (copyrighted 1966) defines patriarchy as:  "1.  a form of social organization in which the father is the supreme authority in the family clan or tribe and descent is reckoned in the male line, with the children belonging to the father's clan or tribe.  2.  a society, community or country based on this social organization."

Now in 2016, I Goggled Merriam-Webster's definition of patriarchy: a family, group, or government controlled by a man or a group of men; a social system in which family members are related to each other through their fathers."

Patriarchy doesn't change but thank God we humans are capable of intellectual and spiritual progress. I know it is much more than just daughters that suffer from the patriarchal model; sons and the whole of society are also deprived of integrating the gifts both genders have to offer; integrated gifts that will form the foundation for freedom, justice and peace in the world.

In the mid 1990's I remember seeing for the first time the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the General Assembly of the United Nations in1948, that begins:

"Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world, …"

When I read that declaration, during the time patriarchy was coming to the forefront in my life, my first thought was I don't even have inherent dignity and equal and inalienable rights in my family, or then church, where I was also active in justice and peace concerns.  But now it helps me understand why progress toward ending racism and homophobia is coming before ending sexism that is held onto through the patriarchal hierarchies of religion.   

Which brings to mind the late Jesuit priest/scientist and mystic Teilhard de Chardin who was silenced by the church.  Chardin saw man’s embrace of woman as consummating a union with the Universe, and in turn, growing to a world scale.  He believed that if each of us can believe that we are working so that the universe may be raised, " . . . then a new spring of energy will well forth..." and "The whole great human organism, overcoming a momentary hesitation, will draw its breath and press on with strength renewed.”

What if we all questioned our relationship with patriarchy and ask ourselves, "What can I do to promote freedom, justice and peace in the world?

Fear, Forgiveness and Prayer

The Mystery within...

Fear, forgiveness and prayer have been on my mind with the recent mayhem wrought by the terrorists in France.  Damning talk of revenge has me longing for prayers for the perpetrators of those heinous acts and prayers for the rest of us to accept our anger and fear that can start us on our work to forgive.  I know something of prayer, fear and forgiveness for they threaded throughout my memoir.  Some excerpts from “God Never Hurries:”

I sensed fear was at the heart of my father’s need to control, and his fears undoubtedly were heightened by my mother’s growing dementia and the fact that she had been the center of all things relative to a functioning home. 

…I felt empathy for his fears along with a sense of futility in any attempted dialogue. 

…I was also truly scared.  Scared for my mother’s and my safety. 

…fear is more than fight or flight.  Guile and cleverness are just two of many ways to address fear; and fear keeps the world in check.  [Adapted from “The Gift of Fear” by Gavin De Becker.]

[I attended] …a two day workshop on forgiveness sponsored by a Unitarian church in Milwaukee featuring Robert Enright and Susan Freedman from the International Forgiveness Institute.  I had previously heard them tell of their mission on public radio—to help people gain knowledge about forgiveness and to use that knowledge for personal, group, and societal renewal.

It was comforting to learn that forgiveness is a process; the first step is believing it is a possibility.  We can then look to our Pride, the negative kind, which blocks the process.  Denial of anger was cited as a clue to Pride and an obstacle to forgiveness.  It takes humility to admit being hurt.  It is humbling to admit woundedness.  Therefore, it can be healthy to get angry and Prideful to deny it.  Pride was said to be a formidable foe for we are very unaware of it.  I also learned forgiveness is most needed where things are least safe; and you need to be in a safe place to work on forgiveness.

Forgiveness benefits were many and were said to come from the heart and the head and resulted in emotional control.  It was said true forgiveness is not trivial for it transforms who we are.  Freedom and a more real view of life are its fruits.  Forgiveness is also giving up resentment and coming to view the perpetrator with compassion.

Like Teyve in Fiddler on the Roof, I had many informal conversations with God.  I am called to pray for my enemies out of love--though love does not preclude justice for the wronged--it just makes me more whole.  And I learned to trust God's slow work in me.  

What if we all became more whole by praying for our enemies out of love?

No Words Yet

The Mystery within...

My ears perked up when I heard Berkley law professor, john a. powell, an internationally recognized expert on civil rights, civil liberties, structural racism, ethnicity, housing, poverty, and democracy say we do not yet have the words to speak what needs to be said about race relations in America today.  As one who searches for right words I found that fascinating and challenging.  Powell spoke to Krista Tippet in a Live Video:  A Civil Conversation with john a powell on how we might open up our anguished race conversation into the spiritual work of self and belonging.  He said language is never quite right but we do need language.    

Powell said:  We need a language of belonging for the human condition is about belonging. When we interact with each other we both change.  He asked how do we come together and learn together?  How can we make belonging infectious?  He acknowledged that the mind categorizes, and asked how do we become aware of our categories and have fun with them?  He said we need a caring economy to be in relationship with others.  Powell sees the culture of whiteness as the hard nut.  Slavery is about America.  How do we help whites find a new identity and believe in something other than ourselves?  We need to become aware of our unconscious signs of bias and work to overcome them.  The Civil Rights movement is as much for the white soul as it is for the freedom of blacks. We need to trust we will be shown the way.

What if we all searched for the right words to guide us in right relationships with one another and our planet?           

Unchurched?

The Mystery within...

Unchurched is a word I have been hearing lately used to describe people who are no longer card carrying, dues paying members of a religious sect.  I don’t much like that word used to describe those of us who have left formal religion.  During a discussion between Arthur Zajonc, a physicist and contemplative, and Michael McCullough, a professor of psychology, on Krista Tippet’s On-Being Program, Mind and Morality:  A Dialogue, it was said of people who have left formal religion they have stepped out of the little church of virtues and have stepped into the virtues of the big church.  I really like that analogy. 

I love the big church’s virtues.  Knowing that all of creation, everything and everyone in it, is holy, helps me look for the Divine Mystery everyday.  Knowing that all of creation, everything and everyone in it, is connected, gives me pause to reflect on how my actions affect everything and everyone.  I love the freedom to be curious and to question everything.  I’ve become comfortable with knowing that answers only raise more questions to be explored.  I love the challenge of reflection and looking beyond trouble and hurtfulness.  I love knowing I belong to the big church.               

Other points that touched me in the discussion between Zajonc and McCullough were: we need to allow for differences and to explore them in safety, with respect; morality is our relationship to others and the world; empathy and compassion activates moral progress; there is no good argument for treating people differently; the fact that we can choose to separate ourselves from one another, and live and learn in a monoculture, is absolutely poisonous; education should teach us how we are going to be together as a human community; and we need to use our attention wisely.  

What if the little church of virtues and the virtues of the big church got together?

Spirit Animals

The Mystery within...

My August 5, 2013 blog titled “My Spider” told of how I came to know, and be grateful for my totem spider that appeared to me while on a “Women Gathering” retreat.  I wasn’t at all sure I wanted this spider spirit until I began to understand what it was asking me to suspend:  judgment of others and myself; anxiety for things undone; and the need to be perfect or right.  And after I learned that my spider is the keeper of the primordial alphabet, and teaches one how to write with power and creativity, I was in love with it.

Two more spirit animals have now recently showed up very unexpectedly in my life in the forms of a golden Palomino and a black horse.  They appeared on the first thawing day of this winter’s frigid grip while I walked in a wood not far from my house with my yellow Lab, Oliver.  Oliver stopped and stood transfixed with something among the bare trees deep in the snow-covered woods.  I followed his gaze and there stood a yellow horse!  My disbelief doubled when a black horse soon joined it.  We all just stood watching one another until finally the horses snorted, and then Oliver gave one bark, at which the pair turned and ran north into a grove of pines. 

This little 17-acre wood, bounded by private residences, a bike trail, and the Milwaukee River is home to squirrels, birds, chipmunks and deer.  Not horses.  I figured they probably escaped from their paddock somewhere and were enjoying a little spring fling.  I thought somebody should know where they were so when I got to the bike trail I asked a couple walking there if they had a cell phone so I could alert authorities of the horses whereabouts.  Later that night I called the Ozaukee County Sheriff’s dispatch to see if anyone reported a missing black and Palomino horse.  The dispatcher said no and they sent two deputies there and found nothing. 

I looked on-line for the spiritual attributes of horses and found Horse Journeys.  I learned horses are symbols of freedom and will awaken and discover my own freedom and power.  They teach fear kills creativity and can lead me to trust my own inner wealth of knowledge making me aware all things are possible.  Horses can reconnect me with the natural world, encourage me to be in the moment, and inspire a heightened sense of awareness.  Some of the goodness horses possess leads to a balanced social order because of their heightened sensory awareness, self-responsibility, and support of the greater good for the whole community.  These spirit guides can help me claim my authentic heart so what I say, do, think and feel comes from love.  I also found a golden horse signifies the coming of a spiritual manifestation and action; and a black horse is symbolic of death and rebirth.  I am thrilled to accept these new spirit animals in my life and welcome their mentoring.

What if we all became aware of our spirit animals with messages for our life?  

One Word

The Mystery within...

This week choosing one word that would represent growth for me in 2015 was an e-mail exercise sent to me by my publisher, David Gawlik of Caritas Communications. It evoked in me indecision, challenge, thought, and discernment.  David later told me his chosen word was Listening.  His word took me back to 1975 remembering the late Father Carl Alberte.  He sat in rapt attention when I took him the portion of money I received from my husband’s funeral specifically designated for masses.  I told him I’m keeping the rest of the money because I’m going to need it, and I don’t believe in paying for prayers anyway.  I also shared with him why I felt closer to my husband than ever before.  I was the only one who spoke until I said, “I have to leave now.  I’ve got a lot to do.”  He replied softly, “I’m sure you do.”  I felt totally heard and it was heavenly.  Many years later, remembering the power of being truly listened to, I crafted a memento from a thin slice of translucent blue/green agate that resembled an ear at one of Cathy Gawlik’s (David’s wife) Women Gathering retreats to remind me to be a better listener.  It now hangs in the window above my kitchen sink.  It’s been there so long I don’t even notice it any more.  I know I could be a better listener, but listening didn’t feel like it should be my one word for 2015.

I wrestled with other words--freedom, justice, and equality.  They all seem to be wrapped up in the word courage, which I probably will never have enough.  But still courage didn’t feel like the one right word for me.  But it did lead me to the word fear and then I knew I was now getting close to my word.  I thought about the toughest, most fearful time in my life thus far, when I was confronted with my aging parents’ care needs and defied all expectations for my “proper” role.  It was that extreme sense of fear that heightened my presence to my surroundings, everyone in it, and my self worth.  In that awareness, answers to my troubles came from everyday experiences and eventually became my story in “God Never Hurries.” 

So now in 2015 I am wondering do I have to know extreme fear in order to be truly present to my surroundings, others and myself?  I think not.  I could look for the lessons and blessings in what I am experiencing and feeling each day.  I could return to the earth more, where God once touched me, and gave me the courage I sorely needed.  And I could go back to working at sitting quietly everyday and just be with the Word that resides in me.  I am relieved to know my word for 2015 is Presence.

What if we could all find one word in 2015 to help make the world and us a better place to be? 

Shadow Work

God is...

I felt and heard my shadow so clearly this past week while visiting with neighbors in a church vestibule following a funeral service for one of our own.  Our neighbor, Carol, had been sick many years with serious respiratory problems and is now at peace.  I shared how grateful I would feel for my ability to be able to get on my bike and go for a ride knowing she was confined to being indoors most of the time.  And then my neighbor, and former carpool member, Tom, asked me if I’ve been to a retiree luncheon lately.  My demeanor went dark. I felt my previous sense of gratitude overcome by resentment.  There was a bite in my words.  I told Tom I half considered going to a luncheon a couple of years ago, but as I came close to committing, old fear surfaced.  And now I clearly see I still have shadow work to do with forgiveness.

I previously put a lot of effort into the work of forgiveness surrounding my aging parents’ and their care needs.  The following are thoughts I gleaned from reading Gavin De Becker’s book “The Gift of Fear,” public radio broadcasts, and a workshop I attended featuring Robert Enright and Susan Freedman from the International Forgiveness Institute, and some of my own conclusions.  I’m grateful I recorded them in “God Never Hurries” for they now provide me needed review:  

-- Forgiveness is most needed where things are least safe; and you need to be in a safe place to work on forgiveness. 

-- Fear is more than fight or flight, guile and cleverness are just two of many ways to address fear; and fear keeps the world in check.

-- The human brain is never more invested than when its host is at risk; intuition is then catapulted to another level entirely, a height at which it can accurately be called graceful, even miraculous.  It is going from A to Z without stopping at any other letters along the way.

-- Real fear is not paralyzing but rather energizing.  It is coiled up energy.  Perhaps courage is another name for this energy.  Love is courage talking.

-- Denial of anger was cited as a clue to Pride and an obstacle to forgiveness.  It takes humility to admit being hurt.  It is humbling to admit woundedness. 

-- Forgiveness results in emotional control.  It transforms who we are.  Freedom and a more real life view are its fruits.  Forgiveness is giving up resentment and coming to view perpetrators with compassion.

What if I could remember all that as I continue my shadow work to forgive?

Pre-funeral Luncheon

God is...

The New Year got off to a good start with a telephone invitation to the third annual pre-funeral luncheon.  It looks like it will be an annual affair from now until nobody knows when.  I am grateful to the couple who host this unique gathering of old friends.  Criteria for attendance had been you had to be 65 years or older to attend.  I hear this year an under age couple is coming.  I saw the wife of this couple in the grocery store after last year’s second annual pre-funeral luncheon and told her what a unique and fun time it was and now she thinks they should be included because her husband has graying hair. 

Just like death it’s a little uncertain when the pre-funeral luncheon will take place for it is either on the Green Bay Packers’ first playoff game or the Super Bowl.  I’m really glad the packers made the playoffs so we don’t have to wait until the Super Bowl to gather.  And thank God the threatened TV blackout for the playoff game was averted.

The format for our gathering is the host couple provides multiple main entrees (way too much food) and drinks, with attendees bringing side dishes.  We eat before the game and during dessert we each share an assigned message with the group.  I think last year we were asked to share what we think is the most important thing in life.  I don’t remember what I said last year; I’ll have to check with the host for he keeps a file (for later).  If I was asked the same question this year I’d say forgiveness is the most important thing in life.  But this year we are to bring our favorite quotation, which made me anxious (there are so many) and I even fretted about what kind of salad the group would enjoy.  Then less than an hour after the phone invitation both my favorite quote and the perfect salad just came to me when I was calm and not thinking of either.  Which goes to show I still have anxiety and trust issues to work on along with the need for less perfection.

The quote I will take this year is from my late crone friend, Rosemary, to whom I dedicated my memoir “God Never Hurries,” and in which I wrote:  The freedom to be wrong was a priceless gift that came from my dear friend Rosemary.  Through a mistake of her own she learned to say, “This is what I know and believe today, but ask me tomorrow and I may know it a different way.”  Humility graced her.  And I just finished making a tangy beet salad with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, summer savory, salt, pepper, feta cheese and walnuts to be served on a colorful bed of organic baby greens.

Life and death are so inextricably intertwined and yet we keep death at arms length and in the shadows.  The pre-funeral luncheon is an opportunity to let us flirt with death, ponder and share what’s important to us in this life, and eventually be part of our own eulogy.  All this and enjoying one another’s company and a Packer game too.

What if we all had the opportunity to wink at death while still warm and ponder what’s important in the company of friends? 

God's Other Half

God is...

The following is from one of Richard Rohr’s Center for Action and Contemplation daily meditations: “The soul does not need answers, it just wants meaning, and then it can live.  Surprisingly, suffering itself often brings deep meaning to the surface...”

A desire to share the deep meaning brought to the surface as I struggled with my aging parents’ care needs is why I wrote “God Never Hurries,” in addition to wanting always to remember the many unique gifts I experienced during that painful time.  Soulful treks to the beach, with my buddy Bear (dog is god spelled backwards), showed me that in my churches mystical body, I really had no voice.  Then one night at choir practice, while listening to the men’s voices contrast with us women, and seeing each of us as unique, totally loved by God, and sharing our voices, let me know the importance of everyone having a voice.  And all this was helping me understand my complicity through silence in my father’s abuse.  I became keenly aware of my struggle with assertiveness and my need for voice.  I had no answers, but my soul was coming alive with meaning.

As my soul found meaning I saw how I needed to change.  Slowly, painfully, I learned to find my voice, refuse the victim role, and saw that I could no longer be “the good girl” who does what everyone else expects.  It was tough, scary work but so worth the eventual growth, freedom and understanding of what it means to be true to one’s self.  Encountering the word obdurate (hardhearted, unyielding, stubborn, obstinate) while reading Clarissa Pinkola Estes book, “Women Who Run with the Wolves,” was my first hint that I could change no one but myself.  Estes wrote:  “In ‘being good,’ a woman closes her eyes to everything obdurate, distorted, or damaging around her, and just tries to ‘live with it.’  Her attempts to accept this abnormal state further injured her wild instincts to react, point out, change, make impact on what is not right, what is not just.”

Fast forward to today.  Death eventually ended my struggle with my aging parents’ care needs. I left the church of my birth, now over ten years ago, because the struggle with my father paralleled my struggle with my church.  My hand would no longer let me write another check to an organization so discriminatory.  (I now gratefully pursue an ecumenical path.)  And although I know it is true I can change no one but myself, there is a part of me that wonders, is that enough?  I caught a few words from a speaker on public radio last week who said anyone has the right to believe anything they want to believe, but no one has the right to act upon those beliefs if they hurt others.  Oppression of women (or anyone) in the name of religion is so systemic that I think many are unaware of it.  It leaves half of God out of the blending of male and female voices and that hurts everyone.

What if we all thought about that for a while? 

Faithful Gardener

God is...

From "The Faithful Gardener" by

Clarissa Pinkola Estes: 

Refuse to fall down,

If you cannot refuse to fall down,

Refuse to stay down.

If you cannot refuse to stay down,

lift your heart toward heaven,

and like a hungry beggar,

ask that it be filled,

and it will be filled, 

You may be pushed down.

You may be kept from rising.

But no one can keep you 

from lifting your heart

toward heaven--

only you.

It is in the middle of misery

that so much becomes clear.

The one who says nothing good

came of this,

is not yet listening.

I dedicated God Never Hurries, “For my crone friend, Rosemary.”  She too was a faithful gardener and would retreat to the soil and her plants for solace when life got difficult.  Crone friend is what she called me and said we were entering our crone years and needed to share a woman’s wisdom.  Through a mistake of her own she learned to say, “This is what I know and believe today, but ask me tomorrow and I may know it a different way."  Humility graced her.  Besides teaching me I have the freedom to be wrong, she also gave me the freedom to be wherever I am at present (the only place I really can be) after I confessed to her there was a time in my life when I actually felt invincible.  She said to me, “Maybe it was a time in your life when you needed to feel invincible.”  And whenever I shared my troubles with her, she saw the promise of change through my discomfort.

Rosemary died a young, but very wise crone.

What if we shared what becomes clear to us through our misery and mistakes?        

True Forgiveness

God is...

True forgiveness transforms who we are.  It is a process that comes from the head and the heart and results in emotional control.  Freedom, and a more real view of life, then allows us to give up resentment and come to view the perpetrator with compassion.  I learned those awesome forgiveness benefits in a two-day workshop I attended in the late 1990’s given by Robert Enright and Susan Freedman from the International Forgiveness Institute.  I was searching for real forgiveness for my father, not just the cheap kind because it is something you are supposed to do.

I also learned denial of anger and pride were obstacles to true forgiveness.  It is humbling to admit being wounded. Pride was said to be a formidable foe for we are very unaware of it.  Therefore, it can be healthy to get angry and prideful to deny it.  I learned forgiveness is most needed where you feel the least safe, and you need to be in a safe place to work on forgiveness.  It was also comforting to learn I could forgive without reconciling since reconciliation was dependent on a change in the abuser.  I attended that workshop soon after my mother and I were both in safer places and I had already experienced a wonderful cleansing burst of rage when my father denied me any voice in my mother’s worsening dementia and care.  I was well on my way to true forgiveness.

In my memoir I recorded what I wrote the evening following that workshop:

And the very next night an honest anger rose in my chest when I read a 1987 Archdiocesan Synod recommendation, item 5, “Acknowledge and respond to racism.”  Two words were so obviously missing—and sexism.

The misogyny of my church is outrageous!  It is the woman!  It is why priests still cannot marry!  It is why women are kept in place!  It is embarrassing and infuriating!  Dear God, please help me channel my anger appropriately.

And the very next day a public radio discussion was on a New York City police brutality scandal.  The interviewer asked, “Did statistics show decreases in brutality where there were more women on the police force?  The guest said yes, and added it was also true for minorities. He ended the program saying, “There is no question that any organization needs to be made up of the people it serves.”

I have come to understand my complicity in patriarchal abuse both through my father and my church.  I found my voice, refused the victim role, created a safer infrastructure, and now live with much less resentment.  Perhaps it is good to hold on to a little resentment to spark continuing change.  It’s been twenty-six years since that 1987 halfhearted Archdiocesan Synod recommendation. I continue to be challenged to trust in the slow work of God. 

What if we all came to see our complicity in patriarchal abuse?

Deep Gratitude

God is...

Fifty years ago, in 1963, I had just turned twenty years old and had been married for three months.  Though I was sympathetic to black Americans’ struggle for freedom and equality, I will confess my immediate life was my primary focus.  In no way did I comprehend back then how indebted I would feel someday to those who spoke, marched, and even lost their lives advocating non-violently for equal rights. 

This past week’s celebration of Martin Luther King’s legacy has left me in awe and deeply grateful for freedom workers everywhere.  It was the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and particularly Title VII of the Act, that later allowed me to participate in upward mobility training programs as the USDA Forest Service worked to advance women and minorities to comply with the Act’s requirements to protect individuals against employment discrimination on the basis of race, color, national origin, religion and sex.  This past week, I learned that Martha W. Griffiths (D-MI) lead an effort to include women in the law’s requirements by advocating for the word ”sex” in the legislation.  I thank you Martha Griffiths.        

From 1965 to 1974 I had become a stay at home mom and had three children.  I returned to the Forest Service after my husband’s depression became incapacitating and then was the sole breadwinner after his suicide in 1975.  Given the opportunity to work my way up from clerical positions, first to a Human Resource Specialist in 1983 and later a Public Affairs Specialist in 1990 had a direct impact on my children’s and my life.  We were able to stay in our home, have adequate food, clothing, transportation, and education opportunities, and even take a vacation now and then.  And after I retired in 1994 and struggled with my aging parents’ care needs, my economic independence allowed me to keep some distance from my father’s abuse.  I wrote in God Never Hurries—I came to appreciate the sense of paralysis anyone economically dependent must experience in an abusive relationship.  My economic independence grew more precious to me.   

This past week I have also been painfully aware that there are so many who have not yet benefitted equally from the Civil Rights Act. 

What if we all thought about how intricately we are connected in this web of life and see that equal opportunity and adequate resources for everyone would benefit us all?  What if we each asked to be shown ways to contribute toward that end?

Nun, None or None of the Above

God is...

I once thought I wanted to be a nun, but that was not my path.  In a Milwaukee Journal Sentinel article last spring Nicholas Kristof, a New York Times columnist said, “You are crazy to mess with nuns.”  Brave, tough, admirable, saintly and crafty were adjectives Kristof used in praise of the women he call “the first female feminists earning doctorates or working as surgeons long before it was fashionable for women to hold jobs.”  Instead, my path led me to leave the church of my birth at age 60 with no desire to formally join another religion.  For me it has been a good choice, broadening my spirituality, infusing me with a blessed freedom, and leading me to explore a variety of spiritual practices that speak to me.  Does that make me a none?

What if there was an Ecumenical box to check when asked to state a religious affiliation?  How many millions of people, who currently know they are none of the commonly listed faiths, would check that box when asked to state a religious preference?  There are pages and pages of beautiful related words in my thesaurus for ecumenical such as universal, heaven-wide, galactic, all-inclusive, cooperating.  When Kristof titled his article, “We Are All Nuns,” I suspect he understood their ecumenical nature and that we are all one family. 

Many years ago I had an aha moment when listening to the wise Sr. Joan Chittister talk about how the church might have done its job too well in taking over the care of the poor, sick and disenfranchised, thereby relieving the rest of us of the responsibility.  I suspect Kristof knows we all are called to be nuns when he cited the “median age is well over 70 of the 57,000 dedicated women who work tirelessly for a more just world.”  What would it take to walk in the sensible shoes of a nun?  What if each and every one of us lived more simply and sustainably, and shared a fraction our time, talent and treasure when and where we could to relieve others’ suffering.  Could all of us together do the job each in our own unique way?  Are you a nun, none, or none of the above?