I talked to Shivani and Dorothy today on my morning walk. The conversations commanded my attention, so less went to my alignment as I walked. Shivani is doing well. She has some part-time gigs that keep her afloat financially, and she loves being home with her son. Sidney is old enough now to be able to entertain himself, and he does it well. Shivani says he is perfectly good on his own until she gets on a phone call. It reminds me of what cats do when you're on your computer or reading a book. I have no idea why those independent animals object to those activities.
Shivani apologized for not working on editing my book. I told her not to worry. I haven't been working on it either. Also, she should wait until I have finished my latest incarnation. Dorothy has been helping me clarify my thinking. She is a great foil, challenging my lack of clarity. She's been incredible. Besides helping me with my book, I love these types of conversations. It what we were raised on. Our dinner table conversations may have been weird, but they were never dull.
Shivani suggested that I just write an article on my method for teaching decoding and word recognition skills. I thought, how am I going to fit all that material into an article?
The gardeners arrived, and Yvette's dogs set up a howl. She had texted me that she would be out and had locked up the dogs in anticipation of their arrival. The dogs were making so much noise, I was concerned someone had to go to the bathroom. I went down and opened the door. Liner and Little headed out. Liner to the gate to bark at the gardeners who were still working on the upper property. I tried to herd them back into the house. Little ran away from me and wouldn't go to the house. I finally got her in just by opening the door. In she went. Not so much with Liner. I warned the gardeners that he was on the loose and not to leave the gate open when they came to the lower property.
I did some work on the blog and the updates, and then I was ready for a nap. Let's see, why was I tired? Well, I had completed over 7,000 steps this morning, worked on some writing, and chased Little around the yard. But it does seem that I need a nap around 11 every morning.
I chose to try meditating instead of napping. I did that yesterday afternoon with success. I felt refreshed after half an hour. It didn't work today. After a half-hour was up, I reset the alarm so I could go another half hour. I was still tired, so I lay down for a real nap. I don't know if I actually slept, but then it was time to get up. I still didn't feel energized, but it was time to get functional.
I'm still working on a stain on my bedroom tiles. I think it may have been caused by water dripping from Elsa's water bottle on her crate. It seems to be somewhat better for my efforts, vacuuming it and soaking it straight vinegar. If I do go due to corona, I will be leaving a clean house. Hopefully, I will also have clean underwear on. (This is probably a reference only the elderly will get. I don't even know where it came from.)
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Musings:
I have been suffering from shame because of my procrastination. I think it is because I can't seem to make myself do what I know what I should do. Also, I am so afraid that I really can't do it right. It led me to think of what the function of shame is.
I think it's a reminder that we are doing something wrong on a social level. For our primitive ancestors, doing things 'the right way' had bearing of their survival. If they didn't, or couldn't, follow the rules, they would be exiled from the group if not killed. I've written about this before. The need to follow a narrow set of rules strictly in life-threatening situations-think the military- is imperative. There is no time or room for deviation.
There are other self-correction mechanisms in our nervous system. As a reading teacher, I look for the point when students know to stop when they have made an error. It should happen instantly. Is this self-correction mechanism somewhat like the 'shame signal?'
I know when I catch myself making an error when I read, my body isn't flooded with those chemicals I associate with shame. The mechanism just informs me that something needs to be corrected. Is it possible for our social self-correcting mechanism to work without causing those uncomfortable feelings associated with shame?
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