Humor

Mourning Together With Coyotes Is Healthy

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

My dog is smarter than he looks.

I mean, he doesn’t look that smart when the fire engine or the coyotes are howling outside, and our dog howls along with them.

Does he not know he is not a fire truck? Or a coyote?

But he is definitely smarter than he looks.

For example, once on a walk, I suddenly heard coyotes howling very close to us. (There is a real world outside of LA where actual trees and flowers exist!).

I quickly grabbed onto his leash. I was certain my fluffy mini-golden doodle would head for the middle of the pack and howl along with them, making his dog dreams a reality (Being called a “doodle” is never cool in coyote society. Being called “fluffy” doesn’t help either. Or “mini.”)

But instead, tail between his legs, he hunkered down and ran home, me stumbling along behind him.

When we got safely inside, and he was protected by a locked door, he opened his mouth wide, and howled in freedom, just one of the pack.

He somehow knew that the coyotes would eat him if they got a chance. But that didn’t stop him from also knowing that mourning with others is healthy.

I feel the same way actually.

I know I will never be accepted into a pack of coyotes.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I want to learn to mourn, to lament in my community with the freedom of a coyote.

“. . . weep with those who weep” Ancient Text

You may think you’ve heard coyotes wail because you watched a John Wayne movie once, but the lamenting, prolonged howl of a group of coyotes is really nothing like that.

Coyotes send shivers down your spine when you hear them mournfully wailing.

You kind of think they’ll shut up after a few minutes but they don’t. It can go on for hours, sometimes in the middle of the day.

“What in the world are they crying about?” I finally wondered.

Coyotes mourn in packs in the fall, when a younger coyote sets off on his own. (I read that on the internet*.)

And so this is what we can learn from coyotes:

1. They mourn together as a group and out loud.

2. They mourn about one thing, and then gracefully interweave their sadness to other stuff that is also breaking their little hearts. (Give me a break here – I know we can’t read the minds of coyotes, but this is my interpretation of what they’re saying. Do you have a better idea of what coyotes think about when they mourn in the fall? No, I thought not!)

3. This grieving process helps them. I mean most of the time coyotes are pretty well-adjusted, right? 50% of them are not sucking back Prozac or the equivalent, like us humans. Maybe we can learn from them.

I’ll explain what we can learn next time.

* Scientific Information Source

The Nature Conservancy: “There’s also a lot of contradictory information – and complete nonsense – written about coyotes.”

Blogpost Footnotes

No! I’m not a coyote-ologist or whatever that’s called. No! I’ve never even studied coyotes. Why do you ask?

Oh! I did read a really funny Canadian classic book once called Never Cry Wolf, and wolves are sort of like coyotes, I think. Does that count?

Anyway, I know the next blog post outlining what I’ve learned from coyotes will help you.

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

Everyone Can Find Their Best Friend On The Internet!

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

More and more people like me! What I mean, of course, is that some of my posts have gotten “likes”! That means you like me, right? I tried to “like” your “like” of my post to show you that I like you, too. My daughter, who is all Wise, because she, like all teenagers, has exceptional skills at “liking” things, says you can’t like someone’s “like”. I did “like” my own post once, which says that I like myself, I think, which is not unrelated.

What was I saying? Oh, yes! You seem to like me!! And since you like me, that means you are my friend!!

And since you are my friend, that means that I can call you at 2 AM when I can’t sleep so you can listen to my (real or perceived) problems! That’s what friends do, right?

So can you please send me your phone number? Thanks.

(Oh, and you want my phone number, so I can listen to you? Whaat?) Since so many people spend time liking me, you can’t expect me to have any time to listen to your problems!

This is a one-way street and I like it that way. Thank you very much.

(Wow. People are so needy nowadays.)

Seriously, members of this blog (so far, just me) meet to pray and listen to each other, and there may be someone who also attends one of these meetings, who is outward-focused enough to listen to (some) of your neuroses, IF we’ve spent enough time working through the nuances of my neuroses, of course.

You’re welcome!

. . . speak encouraging words to one another. Build up hope so you’ll all be together in this, no one left out, no one left behind. The Message

Seriously, (and this is the real Lori Lawe speaking, not the super neurotic persona I use as the voice of this blog. Why is that voice coming out of me when I write anyway??) Huh. Anyway… As mentioned here, distraction can sometimes solve our problems, but when that doesn’t work, Jesus is waiting, patiently, like a true friend waiting for you, to listen to you at a coffee shop even though you’re late again. He longs to hear what’s on your heart.

whisper . . .

And may you find the best friend ever, maybe even on the internet, friend.

Three Keys To Transitioning Gracefully To Life’s Next Season

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

In the last post, I said I would offer advice for how to transition gracefully to life’s next season.

I forgot to actually say something that would help you in that post. Hey, I never promised I would say something useful! The fine print in the Terms and Conditions of this blog was purposefully crafted to avoid high expectations. Wow! People expect so much nowadays!

But I’m not very good at following rules so I thought I’d actually say something useful in this post. Here goes:

Ahem… Clearing throat

Three Keys to Transition Gracefully to Life’s Next Season

Let’s take some pointers from this ancient text:

Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? The Message

1. Forget the old. Stop whining because your kid got a bit older, you don’t have babies anymore, or you hit another milestone birthday. I mean, get over it! Are you going to whine forever just because your kid moved out? (Yes, I do find that I process my thoughts through writing so yes, I am counseling myself right now.)

2. Ask God to remove your blinders so you can see the new thing. For example, who is the new person God may be asking you to serve? One year, while I was praying, Jesus showed me a picture of me washing the feet of one of my children.

Having loved his dear companions, [Jesus] continued to love them right to the end . . .So he got up from the supper table, set aside his robe, and put on an apron. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the feet of the disciples, drying them with his apron. The Message

Help her, Jesus seemed to be silently imploring my heart.

This year, I have a specific homeschooling goal.

You know your goal is from God, by the way, if it’s too big for you to successfully accomplish on your own. He always gives us goals that are too big for us to carry alone, so we will cry out for Him to help us. He wants to walk together with us through every step of life.

The third tip to allow excellence in transitioning to life’s next season doesn’t come from the ancient text written above but is extrapolated from this blog post. (I guess I did say something useful in that blog post! Who knew!)

3. Be thankful you’re alive (I.e., I mean, you’re not dead today!)

I find that this attitude solves 99% of my First World Problems.

If you haven’t heard of First World Problems or FWP, check out this video (produced by nigahiga).

I’m sorry if these problems describe one of your biggest challenges!

(I know, I know! I had to go for counseling after watching this video too!)

Anyway, good luck!

I hope that helps!

You’re welcome!

Gracefully Transitioning To Life’s Seasons?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I wrote a post about sending our first kid off to college last time.

If you haven’t read it yet, I’ll summarize it for you:

Whiny, whiny, boo-hoo, cry, send our kid away… boring, boring.

But this is the thing that really bothers me, as I think about it a bit more.

It’s not really fair that just when our kids become helpful we send them away.

I mean think about it for a minute. Kids come out of the womb as little Machiavellis. I can give an example from my own life. Before one of my kids could speak she was bossing me around.

“How?” you ask.

We had taught her sign language and she knew about four words. She knew how to say “I love you” and she knew how to say “Milk”. We were teaching her to ask for what she needed. This is good. But we didn’t expect a little tyrant to emerge.

For example, when I walked into her room in the morning she didn’t gaze up at me with loving, thankful eyes and ask for some milk with a smile.

Her face screwed into a scowl, she was standing and angrily clenching both fists, glaring at us, and non-verbally (effectively) yelling the sign for milk.

“WHERE is the hired help?!” her nonverbal cues were sending us. Clearly, we weren’t measuring up to her expectations. And we were only two months in on this parenting journey. (OK maybe it took her longer than two months to become a tyrant but not much more than that.)

And compare that to now. I mean homeschooling teenagers can cook! And they know how to do the dishes!

Why would we get rid of them now?

I think parents should form a union.

We should demand that homeschooled teenagers stay with us forever. They should be massaging our feet and feeding us grey poupon (Do you swallow that stuff whole?) after all the blood, sweat, and tears we poured into them.

If people do need to change and mature over time, then I think that after we’ve had our homeschooled, helpful kids and teens for a long time, then sure, they can change back into babies.

Then we can send them away because we’re losing the unhelpful babies and not the helpful teens.

Wait. What’s that you say? God already designed the universe that way?

Ah!!! I guess you are right!

When God gave teenagers parents, he designed the parents to do just that. Parents are helpful to their teens, and then the parents are the ones that mature into essentially incoherent, helpless babies again.

Ah!!! 

I didn’t think of that!

Maybe it’s all about perspective!? I’m alive today!

This is a good day!

I don’t mind that my helpful, kind, sweet daughter went off to university!

The way the universe works is just fine, come to think of it!

Go away!

If I’m not poised halfway between land and sky, about ready for them to shovel earth on top of me, then this is a great day!

It’s amazing that being grateful that we’re alive is a balm to so many of our problems!

I think I’ll see if my husband wants to learn English country dancing with me now that my daughter has left for university.

We have some extra time.

What a perfect world we live in!

(. . . But if distraction isn’t a perfect solution for you either . . .

As you try desperately to hang onto the rope as you swing through the seasons of life, you could cling to God by praying through the lyrics of this song: “I’m here traveling down this long and winding road. Seasons come, seasons go . . . But I’m still standing on the only rock I know.”)

Every Homeschooling Parent Will Be Ready To Wave Goodbye To Their Teen

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I’m mad at you! At all of you with a child more than 17 years old who left home! I hate you all! Why didn’t you tell me it would be this hard to say goodbye when they left for college!?

And all of you with babies too, babies that are older than my oldest baby, I hate you all too! Before we had babies, why didn’t you tell us that looking after babies would be so hard!?

Ah, yes . . .

It is because we wouldn’t have believed you even if you would have spoken up.

And if our teens truly understood the depth of our loss, many of these kids wouldn’t leave home. They are good kids. I relayed these thoughts to my husband, processing them aloud through my tears.

“And we want them to leave,” I cried out. “Yes, we do,” my husband comforted. Then he shoots me a sideways, knowing look. I remembered that this morning our teen was definitely right when she was definitely wrong and instead of bursting into tears, I burst into laughter.

I feel some joy mixed with some sorrow.

And so, “Goodbye!” we say as we wave. Except it’s not kindergarten they are heading off to on a bus. We homeschooled so we missed that milestone. It’s 600 km away and the tearing, the necessary, painful cleaving continues.

Reflecting God’s nature He created them male and female. . . Therefore, a man leaves his father and mother . . . The Message

I told you it would be that way, Jesus reminds me softly. Many years earlier, in prayer, Jesus showed me a picture of my daughters, one after the other, ready to board a plane, to soar off on their journeys of independence. He was preparing my heart to say goodbye many years ago, even then.

Many of us homeschooling parents pushed the love boundary of our hearts a little further than expected when we cracked open those brand new math texts on day one of homeschooling.

The depth of love surprises us all, and surpasses the boundary markers we set up to protect ourselves.

If we love what we know, then we will get to know these kids and our love for them will transform us, them. Love always does.

I’m not saying that homeschooling is one domino after the other of perfect days. I have homeschooled for 4,745 days (I’m convinced you don’t have enough math skills to figure out how many years I have spent homeschooling- Who does?). Out of all those days, I have NEVER yet had one perfect day.

Nope. Not one.

Just daily joy mixed with daily sorrow.

Master storyteller J.R.R. Tolkien explains it this way:

The possibility of [sorrow and failure] is necessary to the joy of deliverance . . . giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.

And so saying goodbye to the teen as she flies off to college is just another homeschooling day: some joy mixed with some sorrow. We are used to that. We’ve gotten stronger over the years. It’s just another part of the daily homeschooling rhythm.

We will be ready because we have been practicing every day for this: some joy and some sorrow, repeat tomorrow.

We’re going to be OK.

And so as we watch them soar, we nurse our grief a little, and then flap our baby wings and listen for the call from Him into a new adventure.

And in the same way that we invest in our future by putting aside a few dollars each month, is He asking us to invest in our spiritual future by putting aside a few minutes each day to listen to Him calling us, comforting us, asking us to set aside the old, and to pick up the new?

How is he calling you to wake up?

Where to next God?

I can’t quite fly yet but I am sensing another adventure.

Yes, I’ll follow!

(How about you?)

An Encouragement: What is the ULTIMATE Homeschool Rhythm?

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

I was sipping a summer drink, my shoulders draped with a blanket. I can’t QUITE bring myself to wear a sweater yet, but the leaves of fall are dropping, reminding me with the cool breeze that the days of summer are ending.

I found myself pondering the successes and challenges of the past homeschooling year, hoping that the total number of wins outscored the total number of defeats.

Then I took a fresh page, another sip of my iced drink, and pondered the coming year.

There is a certain RHYTHM to homeschooling, as there is a RHYTHM to the best things of life: summer-fall-winter-spring, or sunrise-daytime-sunset.

What is the ULTIMATE homeschool rhythm?

After much strategic thinking, erasing, and pulling from my wisdom of X years (I will NEVER admit I homeschooled THAT LONG!) of homeschooling, I think the ultimate rhythm goes something like this:

1) Read good books aloud to our children.

2) Focus on the relationship with each child. Talk to and listen to them.

3) Spend a 1/2 hour yelling at them and watching them cry during “math”.

And that’s it!

The ULTIMATE life of a homeschooler!

Repeat tomorrow!

By the way, both of my kids made it to high school math (pat on the back for me please). I’m thinking there are a LOT of martinis I’ve earned and saved for getting them that far.

Well done, mom, dad! You made it through math today! (Don’t have a martini yet – I was just joking).

Or maybe it’s not math but insert-monster-of-choice-here: toilet training, setting limits on technology, grammar, drawing lessons. (True story. One of my friend’s kids cried every time the art supplies emerged).

We all have our own battles but you get it.

On reflecting a bit more after writing this out (I process my thoughts via writing – thank you for reading and therefore helping me to think more clearly) I think the conclusive ALL ENCOMPASSING homeschool rhythm is the following:

1. Kids are trying to drive us crazy, to lose our sanity. This is called “sanctification” to us. It’s good for you (albeit eventually).

2. Don’t let them.

3. Bake cookies with them, or declare Pajama Day and watch a movie and eat popcorn with them.

4. Repeat.

(5. My editor keeps trying to delete this next one – I don’t know why!) When your kids are about to leave home, drink all the martinis you didn’t have on every bad homeschooling day. (And let’s admit it, there were a lot of bad days).

OK! OK! I won’t include that one!

My editor reminds me that I am in a sort of grieving process as my oldest child is getting ready to leave the nest and fly off to University.

Whole can of crazy is down there in my heart, waiting to get stirred up.

Well – ENOUGH writing for today! I’m fine!!!

Homeschooling Will Probably Drive You Crazy (But Do It Anyway)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Those cement factories overseas, where people labor in dust and despair, with no relief in sight by the power of unions, would be a hard place to work.

Homeschooling our kids is not as hard as working in one of those factories.

But neither is homeschooling sitting next to the pool, a martini in hand, flipping through a magazine as we ring a small bell every hour to usher our kids onto their next subject.

Homeschooling kids would eat you alive if you tried that.

Homeschooling your kids is not the hardest job on the planet.

But neither is it as easy as we thought, right?

Sort of like parenting.

Because homeschooling is also about kids.

Consider taking our kids to a baseball game, as any good parent does.

(Wait! I’ve never taken my kids to a baseball game! Ahhh! Now I have to have many long evening baths to appease my guilt for messing up yet ANOTHER aspect of parenting! “No!” I yell at my family. “I won’t be available to help clean up the kitchen for a few weeks after supper again because I have to take many long baths to appease my homeschooling guilt!” We all find our own ways to get downtime, but that is a topic for another blog post.)

Now where was I?

I actually forgot where the baseball analogy was going. True story.

But yes, parenting has, even for the most accomplished-looking of us, had us all on our knees at some point, begging for mercy.

Why was it that we decided to raise kids, we all wondered at some point?

Ah, yes, it was because we need them to sanctify us.

So God made babies cute, we want one, and before we know it, our tyrannical children are regularly winning battles against us.

“Time to get stronger,” we think, as parents, going to the gym to increase our muscles to fight against these ultra-small beings. Except the muscles we are building are metaphorical. We are getting stronger in selflessness, in empathy, in understanding more clearly our need for grace, in spirituality, as we cry out to God for help.

And so, in exactly the same way that parenting sanctifies us, homeschooling provides an even deeper opportunity to sanctify us.

Because those tricky little kids are involved, the ones that came out of the womb stronger than us, we have met our match in the work of homeschooling.

They have an advantage over us because they already know their need for God.

Jesus . . . said . . . “Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom.” The Message

And homeschooling forces us to remember that we need Him to complete our tasks successfully.

And so this homeschooling journey is a marathon that will transform us. Not from sloth to athlete, but from capable to incapable. From standing and shouting orders to kneeling and begging for wisdom.

And just as an athlete is rightfully happy in their new body after the race, the stronger, more capable one, we can be rightfully happy as our hearts are cleansed a bit more, thanks to this homeschooling adventure.

Ready for your spiritual life to be supercharged?

Keep homeschooling, mom, dad.

God’s homeschooling adventure is equally for you as for your children.

Sanity is overrated anyway.

Nerdy Homeschooled Kids Are Our Hope?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment
(Photo credit: Blimey Cow*)

Yah! I know! My homeschooled kids look nerdy!

Look. We tried to tell them to only buy clothes at stores that cost five times what other stores cost, or twenty times what thrift stores cost.

We pleaded with them to only wear clothes that say little subtle things like “Lululemon” or “Nike”. We told them this.

We told them the kids would only like them if they wore those clothes.

And still, these dang homeschooled kids choose to wear their own stuff they found balled up in the bottom of their closet, or found themselves as a great treasure at a thrift store. (The cowboy hat phase really stank. Maybe because my high school nickname was “Hippiechick” and a cowgirl in the family messes with the cool teenage identity that still lurks inside me somewhere).

We explained these consequences clearly and slowly so they’d understand.

But they have the nerve to wear clothes they like instead of following the rules public high school kids tried to impose on them regarding clothing.

And you call OUR kids maladjusted?

Look – here’s a REAL LIFE ACTUAL HOMESCHOOLED kid to speak* on this topic (unlike me who spent twenty-plus years in public schools and public universities) and you can see how INFURIATING they are!

These are the clothes we told our homeschooled kids to wear:

(Photo credit: Blimey Cow*)

These are some of the clothes they actually wear:

(Photo credit: Blimey Cow*)

I mean, homeschooled kids just wear whatever they want!

And OUR kids are the ones with a problem?

Whatever.

Maybe being maladjusted to our culture ACTUALLY means you have your head screwed on straight.

Maybe the cookie-cutter mold everyone is supposed to fit is broken.

The most popular TED talk of all time is Sir Ken Robinson’s Do Schools Kill Creativity? (Maybe this talk is popular simply because of his name. Isn’t his name awesome? How did HE get a “Sir” in front anyway??)

But um, yeah, public schools are broken.

Maybe homeschoolers will get around to improving our society someday. They already are some of the kids giving society some hope.

Is homeschooling nerdy the new cool?

Hmm… Our family met a bunch of homeschooled kids we liked at a recent homeschooling conference. Some of them were ranchers. Maybe even I might . . .want . . . to wear a cowboy hat, after all. . . ??? Hmmm . . .

Blogpost Footnotes

*The majority of today’s blogpost photos are from a hilarious video produced by Blimey Cow: Seven Lies About Homeschoolers. Well worth your 4 minutes.

My Heart Reaches Through This Blog Post To Shake Your Hand. Really.

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She reached her hand through the book I was reading and grabbed my throat, squeezing me.

Her name was Immaculée Ilibagiza and she was the author of the book Left to Tell. Her hand was her words, convicting me.

The book was about her true story of surviving the Rwandan genocide in 1994.

Up until that point, I had been reading, my cool drink by my side, sipping as I lounged in my comfy chair.

“Where were all the foreigners who should have been speaking to their politicians, holding up banners to raise awareness, sending us relief?”

Her hand round my throat.

In one sentence I had gone from passive observer to active participant. To an active participant who had failed the protagonist during her moment of terror.

Yes, where were we, anyway?

I read later that the criminal and civic trials of football star O.J. Simpson dominated the news during that time.

We were distracted.

And now it’s my turn to reach my hand through this blog and to touch your heart.

I want to shake your hand and say thank you.

I am writing this blog because I am looking for the types of conversations that I want to be having more frequently.

I can tolerate shallow conversations but just barely.

I mean, I can tolerate shallow conversation in the same way that dogs can handle cuddling. Most of us assume that dogs love to cuddle right, just like most of us assume that all we want is shallow conversation.

But multiple dog trainers have assured me that dogs DON’T, in fact, love to cuddle. “The cuddliest breeds can simply tolerate it,” one assured me.

As an aside, I have learned that the only true exception to this general principle is my own dog. If I wrap both my arms tightly around his neck and hold him close, he likes to stay with me.

(Doesn’t shallow conversation feel a bit like that sometimes?)

And so in the same way that most dogs (besides mine) can simply TOLERATE cuddles, many more of us than we realize, I think, also can simply TOLERATE shallow conversations.

Topics with depth are what I truly love to write and talk about with others.

And because you are interested in these kinds of deeper topics, that are further under the surface of things than the weather and that sometimes touch the depths of our hearts, well, my heart reaches out to your heart in a warm embrace.

I am thankful for you. You reading these posts encourages me to keep opening up to the deeper thoughts of life.

And please be encouraged to comment with your thoughts, so we can get the conversation going both ways.

Or join us in our next conversation and prayer time.

That’s all.

Are Ordinary Homeschooled Kids Reading Books Hope For Our Society?

/ Lori Lawe / 5 Comments

It started off as an ordinary day.

We were visiting the largest city in our region and decided to stop in at the library to borrow some books for our youngest daughter’s summer reading cache.

We walked in awe, looking up in wonder at the size of the magnificent building. So many books inside!

I headed to the children’s section to seek some advice on finding excellent books.

My daughter perused the shelves as I asked the librarian for classic books that my daughter hadn’t read yet.

He jumped up, taking us on a tour through several sections and a couple of different floors of the library in our quest for books.

“These are the most popular books for her age group,” he began. My daughter scowled. Trashy and scary novels without much depth weren’t her cup of tea.

“No, I’m looking for classic books,” I said again.

He was visibly excited.

“This is such a joy,” he said, his voice quaking. “I don’t meet many kids who actually like to read.”

“Huh? What?” I thought? I was distracted by another book he placed in my hands.

“I’ve read that,” my daughter stated absently, going back to a nearby shelf.

Together the librarian and I found ten classic books. My daughter had read five of them, which we returned.

“Wow!” He was still excited. He was venting at me now, in a state of catharsis.

“You know, usually I only get requests to print things for kids when they are on computers. I don’t get to actually look for BOOKS.”

“WHAT now!?” I thought, again distracted as he showed me another book.

I shook my head, looking at my daughter’s reaction to yet another trashy, popular vampire page-turner.

“Could I ask,” he began hesitantly, “why you and your daughters prefer classic books?”

I wasn’t sure where to begin. He works in the children’s section of one of the largest libraries in our Province. (“Province” is the Canadian word for the American term “State”, Google Translate told me). Shouldn’t HE be trying to convince ME to choose books with more depth for my child?

I shrugged off the WHY of the question and spoke for a few minutes about mentors as the main characters of books, helping us to learn how best to navigate through life’s challenges.

He wasn’t convinced. “Well, I don’t know about THAT,” he countered.

The pieces of the puzzle of what he had been saying all morning came together into one unfinished whole. I was seeing a bigger picture, though I had to guess as some of the puzzle pieces were still not available.

But definitely, this ordinary day for us at the library was NOT an ordinary day for the librarians.

My homeschooled kids, who actually LIKE to read, were neon flashing lights in that place, screaming NOT ORDINARY! NOT ORDINARY!

Do we look in wonder at my kids?

No. Classically homeschooled kids consume challenging literature like fires consume water from fire hoses. They all read a lot.

We look in wonder at our culture, seen afresh through the contrast of our kids.

They’re missing out on all this?

Is this another way that homeschooling kids are hope for our society?

Ways that children reading classic books offer hope for our culture will be discussed in a future post.