Fathers For Good

Thank You, Soldier!

The shocking killings at Fort Hood last week bring special meaning to Veterans Day this year (Nov. 11). With the slaying and wounding of soldiers on the Texas base, allegedly by a military doctor who sympathized with terrorists, we are reminded that our nation’s “veterans” are not only the old men who fought in wars long ago and far away. They are also men and women in our midst, who serve us bravely each day that we live in freedom in America.

It is time to say “Thank you, Soldier.” “Thank you, Sailor.”

I grew up during the turmoil and aftermath of the Vietnam years, when my older brother was mocked and spat at by adults while wearing his ROTC uniform on the way to school. It was trendy to be anti-war, but the larger part of the American people knew then, and still know now, that sometimes fighting is necessary. Even “peaceniks” have not wanted to live with the full effects of their pacifism, as they benefit from our country’s freedoms.

War is unavoidable when an enemy brings the battle to your shores, as in the events of 9/11.

Ideally, according to the just war teachings of the Catholic Church, war is an act of justice. It is waged to protect the innocent, defend nations, preserve civilization – to stop the unjust aggressor who will not respond to negotiation or pleas for peace.

But war is always a form of hell, for those who fight it and those who are caught in it. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church wisely states, “All citizens and all governments are obliged to work for the avoidance of war.” Yet “governments cannot be denied the right to lawful self-defense, once all peace efforts have failed.” (CCC 2308).

We live in difficult times for war. The destructive magnitude of our weapons, and the almost sure prospect that civilians will be killed in battle, should make a sane world proclaim with Pope Paul VI “war no more.” Yet sanity or common sense do not always prevail on the world stage. And some nations, acting in what they may see as a just cause with just means, endanger the citizens or sovereignty of other nations. The result is war. In this “vale of tears,” war is unavoidable and sometimes even predictable, so we better be prepared for it as a matter of justice and self-defense.

Thus, we have Veterans Day as a national holiday. This is a day of Remembrance for the sacrifices of those who went before us, from the time of the American Revolution to this day, when we mourn especially the victims of the Fort Hood massacre.

Take time to say "thank you" to the soldier or sailor in your life: your grandfather, your father, your brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces or nephews, who may have served or are now serving in the military. As we learned from the events of last week, those who wear the uniform are targets these days, even on their own home bases. They sacrifice their safety when they sign up to serve. We who benefit from their efforts owe them a heartfelt salute.

My (Brief) Brush with Death

As the surgeon cut out the cancer cells on my face, the words of Ash Wednesday came to mind: “Remember, man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Samuel Johnson famously said that nothing concentrates the mind as much as the prospect of one’s hanging. The same can be said when you hear the word “cancer,” even when it’s early stage and confined to a small spot near the right ear. “Squamous cell carcinoma” doesn’t sound any more soothing. Whatever words are used, there’s something growing slowly on my face that could eventually kill me.

After the nurse called with the results of the biopsy, I did what everyone does these days when receiving bad medical news. I went to the Internet and was served up more than 2 million sites, complete with totally nauseating photos of skin cancer at its worst. Well, I comforted myself, at least I don’t look that bad!

I decided then and there not to worry, and to pray, and to call for an appointment with the dermatological surgeon. I took it as a sign from God that just as the doctor’s secretary was telling me that there were no new appointments until January, a patient on the other line was cancelling an appointment he had the next business day. Without blinking, I said I’d take it.

So there I was, in the waiting room, with my supportive wife at my side, sitting among people who had ridiculous looking bandages on their noses, ears, foreheads and jaws. It was October 26th, but Halloween was coming early, I thought, amused that I would soon be joining the "Mohs" club.

The Mohs procedure involves cutting out the cancer cells and some extra skin, placing a temporary bandage on the wound while the skin specimen is examined under a microscope, and calling the patient back if cancer cells are found in the surrounding tissue. You can be called back two, three or four times, as some of the patients were the day I was there. All this surgery is done on a regular examining table, under local anesthesia, which doesn’t do wonders for the stomachs of the squeamish – or the “squamous.”

On the table, the right side of my face was filled with so much anesthesia that I didn’t even feel the numbness, my head was turned slightly from the surgeon, with a drape over my eyes so I couldn’t see the scalpel. I felt a light pressure and asked if the surgery had begun. “I’m almost done,” said the surgeon, a pleasant woman with an Indian accent.

A few minutes later, I sat in the waiting room, a big white gauze bandage on the side of my head, feeling decidedly older. Age had caught up with me, I ruminated. It was my first surgery, my first time under the knife. When I walked to the bathroom, for some reason I was limping, as though something more than a half-inch of facial skin had been removed.

“How deep is it?” I asked my wife, lifting the gauzy dressing. I was expecting a joke – looks like they hit the brain – but she was a bit somber and said, “Not bad.” A polite way of saying, “yuck.”

Well, the good news was that they got all the cancer cells on the first swipe. The bad news was that I needed stitches to close the wound. Back to the table, this time sitting up as in a dentist’s chair. More anesthesia, more cutting. The surgeon actually had to make the incision longer in order to apply stitches, so she cut about the length of my ear, and began to sew, all the time chatting with an intern about doctors I didn't know.

I tried to offer my sufferings, small as they were, for the souls in Purgatory, or for my children’s health, or for my wife. I tried to think of the lance piercing the side of Jesus, and blood and water – the saving waters of Baptism and the healing balm of the Eucharist – flowing forth for mankind. But all I could think of were the words of Ash Wednesday, about flesh and dust and the shortness of this life, as I limped from the table.

Report from the Flood

As the waters receded from Metro Manila they left something much more difficult to clear: mud. Just as the flood covered up to 80% of Manila as a result of Tropical Storm Ondoy (or Ketsana) on Sept. 26, so mud settled on about that same percentage of the capital city.

In the downtown and business areas, the mud was swept off by machines or shoveled by hired hands and was soon mostly gone. In the surrounding villages and communities, individual homes were more difficult to clean, and families faced the prospect of living in less than sanitary conditions or leaving their long-time homes and finding shelter elsewhere.

My wife’s family is in the latter category, fortunate in some ways that they at least have the option to move. For now, three generations are together, renting a large apartment outside the flood area, near the Jesuit university Ateneo de Manila.

My wife and I were also fortunate to be able to visit her family when my employer, the Knights of Columbus in New Haven, decided to send us to Manila to attend the K of C Luzon Convention, which had been scheduled for Oct. 10 long before the flood. I delivered a DVD with a video message from Supreme Knight Carl Anderson, who had visited the Philippines in 2005 to celebrate 100 years of the Knights of Columbus in the Asian country.

In his video message, Anderson expressed support and solidarity with the Filipino Knights and all the people of the Philippines after a destructive storm that has been compared to Hurricane Katrina. He reported that $50,000 had been sent immediately to the Philippine Bishops Conference, and $40,000 was soon after sent, to help with humanitarian relief efforts. He said that the Order in the Philippines has a proud history of charity that was especially evident after the flood. Knights who had suffered great losses themselves  banded together to pack bags of food for those who had even less. The theme of the Convention – “Neighbor Helping Neighbor: Service Together” – was exemplified by the rapid response of the Knights to those in dire need.

Luzon Deputy Alonso Tan declared at the Convention, “Alleluia, we are here and alive!” He knew that after so many Knights and their families had fled to the roof of their houses to escape the flood waters, simply to be at the Convention was a blessing.

I will have more on my trip to the Philippines in the days to come. Please continue to pray for the people of the Philippines. They have lost much in material goods, but their faith and spirit remain strong. Families are working together, living together, and helping one another recover. They have the treasures that only come from faith, family and a warm sense of humor.

(To see photos from Manila and to donate to the Knights of Columbus Philippine Disaster Relief Fund, please visit www.kofc.org.)

 

Pray for Philippine Flood Victims

My wife’s family in the Philippines was caught in the flash floods that hit the Manila area over the weekend. Their lives were saved by events that were nothing short of miraculous. I will recount here the amazing story one of my wife’s sisters told her by cell phone.

But first, let's all pray for the people of Manila and the surrounding areas. More than 240 are reported dead in the flood, thousands and thousands are homeless. A huge clean-up is beginning that will take weeks or months. Today is the feast of St. Lorenzo Ruiz, a Filipino martyr. Let's ask him to intercede for his people, who are enduring such suffering.

Tropical storm Ketsana hit the northern Philippines with little warning about the destruction it would wreak upon an area that is accustomed to violent weather. In 12 hours, about 17 inches of rain fell, which equals the average amount that falls in all of the September rainy season.

My wife’s mother and father live in the house in Marikina, a few miles east of Manila, where she grew up with her seven brothers and sisters. Living in the house with the parents at the time of the flood were a brother, his wife and their two teen sons; a sister and her 8-year-old daughter and a teen niece. My wife’s father is almost 80, with a spinal condition that makes mobility difficult.

Living a block from the river, they had seen floods before, the worst bringing some 8 feet of water into the house. With Ketsana, however, the water rose to 20 feet, forcing my in-laws to the second floor bedrooms, then onto a pitched roof.

Cell Phone Updates

It was a frantic struggle, and my wife and I heard bits and pieces by a cell phone relay as it was happening. Her sister who was in the house called her brother, who was safe in a higher suburb of Manila, with regular updates. Her brother started calling my wife at 2 a.m., Connecticut time (2 p.m. Saturday, Manila time).

First, the water was up to the twelfth step of the stairs leading to the second floor. That was one step above the highest previous flood, but still no cause to panic. In the next call we heard that the water was ankle deep on the second floor and rising quickly. Then it was knee deep, then belly deep. Those in the house were looking for something for my father-in-law to float on so they could get him to the roof. They got hammers to knock out the windows and bend the safety bars that were meant to keep out robbers. The water was just about to come in the window when they were preparing to climb out. They were praying more fervently than ever.

A Miracle of Prayer

My sister-in-law later told my wife that they felt the presence of Jesus as they prayed, and when they looked out the window, they saw a long, sturdy rope floating by. They grabbed the rope, thinking it would help them get to the roof. Then they saw a bunch of bamboo poles floating by. They were able to gather about 30 of them, and lash them together to build a makeshift raft. They put my father-in-law on the raft.

They decided to set out for a neighbor’s house, which was on a bit higher ground. Once again, the raft was a lifesaver. The two best swimmers pushed my father-in-law on the raft across the backyard to the next house. They returned to get my mother-in-law, and all the others, one by one. Amazingly, the hastily constructed raft stayed together the whole time.

Once everyone was safely across, my wife’s family and the elderly neighbors were then forced to the roof of that house, braving high winds and slashing rain for hours until the waters began to recede, gradually.

The miracle of prayer saved my wife’s family. We figured out that just about the time they were gathering the parts of the raft, my wife and I were praying the rosary at 2:30 in the morning, our time. We prayed specifically for a boat, or a raft or a helicopter to come to their rescue.

God is good. Let us continue to pray.

The 'Woo' Heard Round the World

(On October 1, we will mark 30 years since Pope John Paul II made his first apostolic visit to the United States.)

It was 30 years ago today … John Paul II taught America to pray.

What I remember best from his first trip to the United States as Pope was not a prayer, or even a huge outdoor Mass. Rather, it was a “woo!” Those attending the Pope’s meeting with young people in New York’s Madison Square Garden – and those, like me, watching on TV – will never forget.

High schoolers, most dressed better than they would for Sunday Mass – the boys with the 70s Sonny Bono look, the girls appearing as one of the Partridge Family females – were packed into the Garden, with JP II at center stage, where rock stars performed.

Today’s 20-something Catholics have to understand and the rest of us need to remember what a sensation this event was. Here was the Pope – young, strong, masculine and smiling, in the midst of an arena of New York teens. We had just been through a decade of post-Vatican II confusion and the deaths of two popes in 1978, and here was this vibrant, white-clad figure with a face that showed the sufferings of the century as well as the new life in the Church he came to lead. 

Selected teens had spoken of their lives and concerns, and presented the Pope with gifts, and all were ready to hear him speak. He paused, played on their anticipation. They screamed, shouted loving words and were ready to jump to their feet on cue. Then came the “woo!” Not just “woo!” but “ooh,” and a strange, guttural “hmmm”.

He sat in his chair, microphone positioned to catch his every word, English script in his hand, and spent two minutes making noises from the depths of his heart, as if to tell the teens and all Americans that mere words could not express his love, his hope, his joy, his utter amazement at the grace of God and the beauty of youthful faith. “Woo, woo, woo, woo …” he intoned. (You can see the moments on YouTube.)

My brother and I watched the TV, amazed. We had gone through eight years of New York City parochial school and graduated from Catholic high school, yet we had never heard anything like this.

I turned to my brother and said, “We have a Pope who says woo.”

That single moment set us back on the road to faith, to prayer and regular attendance at Mass. This man “from a far place” had touched us through the mass media that he loved, with the simple “groaning of the Spirit” that seemed to gather up all the confusion, hurt, missteps and sins of our early adulthood and offer them to a merciful God who could smile and tease his children. A 20-year-old in 1979 could feel pretty world-weary and cynical of religion. Yet John Paul told us to walk together with him and ask the deep questions we wanted to ask and find the surprising answers we were aching to embrace.

In him I saw Christ. Not Christ the Protector of my childhood that I had self-consciously left behind, but Christ the Adventurer, the Worker, the Warrior, ready to take on the world with great strength and a sense of humor. The Catholic faith was alive, and I was drawn to it anew.

We had a Pope who said woo!

(What moments do you recall? Please write in your own remembrances of the Pope’s historic visit.)

 

Only the Lonely - Final Reflection

Loneliness is not inevitable. It is not coded into a person’s genes or the result of fate. To a great degree, it is the result of a person’s choices and stems from one’s expectations for companionship. No one can avoid loneliness all of the time, but there is much that a lonely person can do to move out of that state.

 

An older female friend of mine whose children are grown and who lives alone showed little patience after reading my last blog. Just tell them that if they’re lonely, it’s their own fault. Tell them to volunteer for something, meet people, make friends, help people in need, she suggested. You can’t sit by the phone waiting for it to ring; you have to call a friend to dinner, she added.

 

There’s much wisdom in this, and it is clear that it works for my friend, whose routine of work, volunteerism and socializing keeps a smile on her face at all times.

 

Yet research shows that even busy people, even married people, can be lonely. A full calendar and many friends are no guarantee against loneliness. The issue is, at root, psychological – by which I mean pertaining to the soul (the root word for "psychology" means “soul”.)

 

“My God, why have you abandoned me?” was the cry of Christ from the cross. Putting aside some of the deeper theological problems of how the Second Person of the Trinity can be separated from God, it is helpful to remember that even Jesus felt abandoned, at least in his human nature. It is also good to consider how he resolved this sense of loneliness. “Into your hands, Lord, I commend my Spirit.”

 

Even when he felt no consolation from his Father, Jesus trusted, and offered himself into his Father’s hands.

 

Trust.  To enter into a deep and meaningful relationship with another, we must trust. We should not trust that a person will never hurt us – two people in close friendship will almost surely hurt one another at times. Trust means the willingness to suffer occasional pain and still persist in friendship.

 

Such trust is also the basis of love, something deeper: the willingness to offer one’s very self into the hands of another. Love is the ultimate sacrifice of self for another, the “new commandment” that Jesus gave his disciples.

 

Neither trust nor love is possible without forgiveness. Because we are human and hurt others and are hurt by them, we must be willing to forgive and to be forgiven. The latter is as important as the former. Many people are quick to forgive the hurts they suffer from others, imagining themselves large hearted. Yet they are slower to ask forgiveness for the wrongs they have done. In the Our Father, Jesus instructs us to ask for forgiveness (“forgive us our trespasses”) in the same measure that we forgive others (“as we forgive those who trespass against us”).

 

Trust. Love. Forgiveness.

 

If we truly exercise these virtues, these strengths of character and soul, loneliness will never be a companion for long. What’s more, we will be well on the road to heaven.

Only the Lonely -- Part III

If you are lonely, you’re in good company.

 

I don’t mean to sound glib about such a personal issue. But in this third blog on the topic, I think it’s important to keep in mind that all of us go through periods of loneliness due to unavoidable circumstances in our lives. Relatives or friends move away. We are traveling on business. We have an argument and our lunch partner avoids us. We’re so busy at work we have no time to talk. Or, more profoundly, a spouse passes away. Loneliness and grief can be a strong double punch.

 

These are normal occurrences and should not cause us to feel anxiety over feeling lonely. That would be self-defeating. The real problems come not when we lose a friend, but when we no longer have a friend to lose. Today, it seems, many people are in that situation in our nation, with 25% percent of survey respondents saying that they have no one close with whom they can talk about personal matters.

 

I think it is fair to say that the high divorce rate has much to do with this fact. When a family breaks up, so do the lines of communication. Spouses no longer talk and may become suspicious of new commitments. Children close in on themselves and grow wary of love and trust. True feelings are suppressed.

 

With up to half of marriages ending in divorce, and almost everyone being touched by the breakups in some way, a swath of separation has cut through our nation, and the seeming silence about it comes from the fact that we are not supposed to notice broken marriages for fear of offending. Or else we are prone to think that divorce is normal or at least acceptable.

 

Another cause of loneliness may be our culture’s focus on sexual relationships. How’s your love life? The message is that if you’re not sexually gratified with one or more partners, you are not really living. But there are many other forms of gratifying and satisfying relationships that don’t involve sex or thoughts of sex, even between men and women, even between spouses. With all attention on one area, the wholesomeness of everyday friendships and the joys of simple laughter can be missed.

 

Then there’s the hyper-sexualization of popular media and the internet, through which anyone can receive a physical thrill in the solitude of his or her living room, and wind up feeling even lonelier by bedtime.

 

This is not meant to be a self-help or advice column, but the Catholic Church does offer some insights on the issue. After all, as the Second Vatican Council declared, the Church is “an expert in humanity.”

 

We begin by citing the age-old wisdom dating back to Aristotle and baptized by Augustine and others through the centuries; that is, man is a social creature. In our day, Pope John Paul II developed a whole thesis on the social nature of mankind, based on his reading of the first chapters of Genesis and a common sense observation of human nature. It is called “Theology of the Body.” He writes that all humans are meant for communion, a sacred interrelation, and that the only adequate response to the person (made in the image of God) is love.

 

(Those who are rolling their eyes and thinking get real, should try reading the Fathers for Good article "Love -- It's a Guy Thing.")

 

To fully realize his or her potential, a person must be in relationship with others. We do not fully know ourselves or our capacities without feedback from others. This is evident in the cooing love between a mother and her child, and it holds true in various ways at different stages of our lives.

 

Rugged individualists we may be, yet we cannot escape what I call the “interpersonal imperative.” We care what other people think, know and say about us and to us. I need you to become fully me.

 

Yet, as we know, things can go wrong as we live out the interpersonal imperative. Miscommunications, misunderstandings, misanthropic attitudes, envy, anger, greed, lust and the other Seven Deadly Sins intrude into what we want to be an edenic garden of sharing of caring.

 

We know what can go wrong, and what has gone wrong, in our own lives. We know the broken homes, the bad blood, the bitter regrets.

 

Think: who are the true friends in my life? Who lifts me up, moves me forward, offers a reflection, a suggestion, or even a correction?

 

If you can’t think of anyone that open and that trustworthy in your life, don’t panic. The Incarnation of Christ has changed the whole landscape of relationships, a topic we will discuss next time. We are not locked in loneliness -- there's a way, there's a voice.

We will also look at the qualities I mentioned in my last blog that can open up or reopen avenues of friendship: trust, love and forgiveness.

 

I have received much feedback on this blog on loneliness, and am persuaded to keep the conversation going, with Part IV to come.

Only the Lonely - Part II

From the beginning of sacred Scripture, at the time when God is creating all things and placing mankind as the crown of creation, one fact is stated quite clearly: “It is not good for man to be alone.”

 

God himself says this, offering the first indication that there is something lacking in all he has made up to that point; there is a need in the human heart that cannot be met even by God himself. Man needs “one like himself,” taken from his own nature to be “bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh,” someone equal yet unique, “a suitable partner.” (See Genesis, Chapter 2, verses 18-25.)

 

Indeed, there is a longing in each person’s heart for companionship, for fellowship, for love – love not just in a general or universal nature, but love of this particular person that involves a close and deep personal sharing and knowing of one another. This longing is expressed by God himself at the very creation of mankind.

 

Trouble comes, however, when trust breaks down. After hallowing Eve as his own flesh, Adam soon accuses her of leading him astray, complaining to God, “The woman whom you put here with me, she gave me the fruit from the tree, and so I ate it.”

 

Yet the need for companionship remains, even as all our relationships are subject to human weakness and sin. In the Old Testament Psalms and Proverbs, we read often how friends are wealth, children are a blessing, family is health and identity. In the New Testament, Jesus often goes off to be “alone” with his Apostles. When Jesus is truly by himself, it is when his “friends” abandon him, or when he wishes to pray in full communion with his Father.

 

We started this discussion of loneliness in my last blog, based upon a report in Newsweek magazine showing how profoundly lonely so many Americans feel – with 25% having no one in their lives with whom they can share personal matters. In the history of humanity, this is a wholly new phenomenon, that so many would not feel an intricate part of a tribe, a group, a family, a city, a people. That millions would have no one to share their lives with or pour out their hearts to.

 

Perhaps Scripture can give us some insights into the loneliness of our times and what to do about it. Here are three virtues that we will consider in Part III of this extended blog on loneliness.

 

1.       Trust.

2.       Love.

3.       Forgiveness.

 

Think how they can help in building better relationships, repairing broken relationships, and healing the wounds of loneliness that so many of us feel today.

 

Comments?

Only the Lonely - Part I

During one of her early visits to the United States, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who was known for her work with the poorest of the poor, remarked that she saw great poverty in America amid material plenty. She was talking about the poverty of loneliness.

  

With their modern communications networks, high technology and crowded cities, Americans seemed to be more isolated and inward than the poor people of Calcutta. In the 20 or so years since Mother Teresa made that observation, the problem apparently has only gotten worse.

A recent article in Newsweek reported that between 1985 and 2004, “the number of people who said there was no one with whom they discussed important matters tripled, to 25 percent, according to Duke University researchers.” The article also noted that more Americans than ever are living alone, 25 percent of households, up from 7 percent in 1940.

Yet even those who lived with others reported loneliness, Newsweek also reported; the number of people in your life or house doesn’t matter as much as the depth and connectedness you experience with them. One good friend you can share your life with is enough to ward off loneliness.

Yet how many people lack that one friend? Even those who are connected to online social networks such as Facebook, and who constantly talk on cell phones, can be lonely. Without rich, consistent face-to-face interaction with a trusted friend, online connections can make a person feel even more lonely.

What is the source of this loneliness in America? Why in New York City, where I grew up with people pressed one atop another, is there an aching wound of loneliness? My friend called Manhattan the largest monastic community in the world – people lived in their little cells, called apartments, and came out to work, with little personal connection.

I think the source of loneliness is lack of trust. We don’t trust one another, so we don’t get to know one another in a deep, abiding manner. This lack of trust itself comes from a number of sources, which we will look at in the next blog entry. Be assured, faith in God is the key to the kind of trust that will break the loneliness cycle.

Become a Guadalupano

What was the most significant religious event in the history of the Western hemisphere? The appearance of Blessed Mother, under the title of Our Lady of Guadalupe, to Juan Diego in 1531 outside what is now Mexico City.

 

This was the theme of the first International Marian Congress on Our Lady of Guadalupe sponsored by the Knights of Columbus last week in Phoenix, Arizona.

 

After three days of scientific presentations, personal witness talks and liturgies, I am more than convinced. I am a Guadalupano.

 

The centerpiece of the Guadalupe event is the tilma (cloak) of Juan Diego, on which God imprinted the image of his Mother. After nearly five centuries, the delicate fibers of the tilma are still intact, and the image still bright and visible, though both should have faded long ago.

 

 As one presenter at the Congress said, the image on the tilma is unique in all the world. Every other time Mary has appeared, she delivered messages and performed miracles (the healings at Lourdes, the miracle of the sun at Fatima). Yet in Guadalupe, she left an image of herself – God himself has imprinted the image of the Virgin for all to see.

 

As another presenter noted, the face of the Virgin of Guadalupe is like no other face. It is called “mestiza” – mixed race – and it is really the mixture of all races, of all mankind. Every face is found in the serene and loving look of “the mother of humanity.”

 

As a reporter, writer and editor for 30 years – most of them in New York City – I have seen many events, heard many stories, and lived through a number of tragedies, including the horror of 9/11. Yet I had never before in my life experienced in heart and mind the message of the three days of the Marian Congress. The story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is one of immense, of ultimate, news value. I am amazed that everyone does not know about the image and the message.

 

Why do only 15 million pilgrims travel to Guadalupe each year? Why have I never gone myself?