It took some time to fall asleep last night. I didn't want to get up when the alarm went off but pushed myself up. I did all the postures at Bikram, no sleeping. When doing the separate leg stretching exercises, my inner left thigh started spasming. As usual, the question is: is this good or bad? It's okay if it means that I'm getting more movement in those muscles, even if they are complaining. It's bad if this means it's the end of the road for my hip. Having triggered the pain, I'm not going to be able to get rid of it.
I went to JAWS right after class. The maintenance light had been coming on. I had the car serviced in January. What was going on? Tasha is the receptionist, but she is also a competent mechanic in her own right. She said that they had serviced while the maintenance light was still in blinking mode instead of constant on. That meant they couldn't reset it at the time. I loved their explanation and hoped it was right. My problem was that it had been off and had only recently come on. Tasha assured me that it was okay and reset the warning light herself without having to get Edmund.
I stopped off at Island Naturals next to pick up pumpkin seeds. I saw an apple I couldn't resist. I got home just in time to shower and head off to school.
I don't usually go on Wednesdays, but there were two children I was concerned about. One was K. in Mrs. D's room. She had been absent from school Monday and Tuesday. I had given her some work to do last Thursday, identifying which number comes before a number and which comes after. The numbers were written in a sequence. Basically, all she had to do was look at the number above the target number and the one below. It was a supported activity. I hoped it would provide practice in learning the pattern to eventually do it on her own. I wasn't up for much else. I had not given her enough practice before sending her off. This meant she risked failure. Failure might throw her back into a mindset of defeat. That wouldn't be good.
Indeed, she had been frustrated by the activity and had not done it. I went over it with her. Since the numbers were in order, copying the one above and the one below in the identified number should have been doable. She sailed through the activity. I have doubts if she saw the pattern. I set up the activity hoping for some implicit learning. I have my doubts about how effective this strategy will be- back to the drawing board.
I worked with I. in Mrs. B.'s room on his listening skills. I only remembered he had problems with this skill when I reread an earlier entry on the blog. Yikes! I completely forgot about it. That is a strange thing for me to do. I had worked on it a little the other day. He could remember almost nothing that I said. I repeated the same single sentence many times, and he still couldn't remember any of the words. He could remember the starting sounds. The sentence was," A frosty wind blew through the forest." He didn't know what a forest was, and frosty was unfamiliar. We don't get frost here in Hawaii except at the top of Mauna Kea in the dead of winter. But he did know the word wind. We have wind here. He knew what it meant before he heard this sentence, and yet he couldn't even remember that word. He gave me some other word starting with a w.
Oh, boy. Despite his problems, he is a good kid who never acts out and tries his best at all times. Does he have learning problems? Oh, yes. Is it worthwhile getting him tested? Yes. If nothing else, it will get him extra help, modifications in his assignments, and extra time on tests. Some protection from having to carry the full academic load on his own. Does that mean that I give up and assume I can't solve it because there is some neurological problem? Do I classify him as learning disabled? No. It serves no purpose for me as a hands-on instructor. It doesn't tell me why he is having these problems and how I can solve them.
Next, I worked with a child who has been caught in bald-faced lies. A parent or teacher sees him doing something, and when he is caught, his strategy is denial. He's not a very good liar. His face and his body give him away. I believed his response came out of fear. A true sociopath isn't scared; they just don't want to be bothered with your needs. When this kid lies, it shows all over his face and his body.
I asked him if he felt scared when someone caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He said yes. I did the visualization in which his conscious mind told his nonconscious mind that he was not in physical danger when someone was angry with him. I had checked before we started this exercise if anyone had ever struck him; obviously, no one had ever killed him. However, our nonconscious mind only knows we're scared. It assumes it is a life-threatening situation and responds appropriately. He said he felt more relaxed after communicating this information to his nonconscious mind. Then I could progress to some trial runs. I told him I would speak harshly, saying, "Stop it!" He was warned, but when the system is set to sensitive, that this was just a drill doesn't matter. Once fear has taken hold, shaking it off takes practice. While he remained calm on the surface, it was clear my harsh voice had an impact.
Most people hate the feeling of fear unless they're fear addicts who always put themselves in life-threatening situations. I have to tell children like this that fear is still their friend. Fear is like the beloved dog who barks at anything. You say, "Thank you. I love you. You can stop barking now. I've checked, and we're all good. The mailman is unlikely to do much harm." Learning to be grateful for this emotion and love it for what it does for us is essential.
I'm sure that many think, "What is she talking about? I hate being scared?" But fear is like pain; we don't like to feel it, but both these neurological responses are lifesavers. There are people born without a capacity for pain. These children are checked by their mothers every night for any signs of wounds. Even a severe injury could go unnoticed if pain weren't there to warn us. These children are at risk of early death because they are not informed by pain when their body is in danger. Fear like pain is necessary for survival. Fear is not as needed as pain in this civilized world if you're lucky enough to be living in a safe place in the world. But in the bad ole days when our nervous systems were developed, lions, tigers, and bears were real threats.
I did some more reading of the McGilchrist book. I have about 20 pages left to go in The Master and his Emissary. It is a drag and a half, but I'm determined to finish it. He hammers at the same theme over and over and over. The left brain is always out to get something; the right brain is love, connection, and appreciation. The right brain is a better leader. The right brain is love, etc., etc. He talks about how the left brain reduces things to disconnected parts. But I see him doing this himself. He polarizes the left and right brain. He briefly talked about their connection, but it sure isn't a big part of his theme.
He did a whole bit on the right brain's appreciation of beauty, which was in ascendance during the Romantic period. Modern art is abstract unrelated to anything, disconnected from everything. He sees no beauty in it. I think it is for us to connect that art. It is for us to see the connection between these abstract lines and allow it to illuminate the real world. There is one work of art he cited for particular criticism, Unmade Bed. I know that when I pictured it, I saw a painting of an unmade bed. I saw the folds of the bed resembling the folds in the fabric of a much earlier period of art. I see art as inviting me to see the beauty in ordinary life, like the folds of the bed linens in an unmade bed. As it winds up, that unmade bed is literally an unmade bed. There is a bed, an ordinary bed, in the middle of the museum floor. It is indeed unmade with trash lining on one side on a carpeted floor. It didn't move me. It didn't help me see the beauty of those lines.
I don't think he has the right categories. It isn't beauty versus abstraction. He sees abstraction as part of the left brain. He sees the left brain as grabby. For him, the opposite of that grabby left brain is the right brain, which can appreciate beauty.
When I was in grad school, I overheard this woman saying," We always desire so passionately, if we could only accept passionately." I think that is the difference between the left and right brains' responses to the world. One just appreciates it, and the other wants what it appreciates.
One of the reasons my marriage to Mike was successful is that both of us could appreciate much of what we got from each other without wanting more. I was deeply moved by small acts of kindness and consideration. I would feel a shiver of thrill. I think Mike felt somewhat the same. I said that our difficult childhoods, where our positive acts were never appreciated, and we were always criticized for what we hadn't done, prepared us to appreciate simple acts of kindness. Even when I did something right, my mother's response would be, "Why can't you always be that way." It was never enough. Having someone who appreciated my small acts and who enjoyed my appreciation of his small acts was a complete joy.
I sent Sandor a text asking him to call me when he had a chance. Since Dorothy called to tell me about her vision problem, I have become more concerned about my problem. Sandor prefers aggressive action: get the surgery as soon as possible. The ophthalmologist took the position that there was no emergency; we could just watch it and see what develops. She also said there was no threat to my eye by lifting something heavy or dropping my head below my waist, which contradicted what Sandor had said. There are several differences. Besides Dorothy's alarming call, I remembered my shock when I read the wall chart. With my glasses on, my left eye's vision was much worse than the vision in my right eye.
Sandor texted me to say he would call after dinner. When he did call, I asked why he was having dinner around 4 pm. He laughed and reminded me that he was in Miami; it was 10 pm his time when he called me back. He advised that I go to his office and get another scan and speak to Meaali'inani afterward. She pulled into her parking space just as I was about to enter the building. Sandor told me she had a full schedule for the day. I asked her if I could just get the scan and call me whenever she got a chance. She was traveling to Miami later that day. I figured she could even call me from the airport. No hurry.
When she got back to me, she told me there was no change in my macular puck from the last scan. However, she did say that it was a serious tear in her estimation, and I should have it dealt with. When I asked Sandor about the difference between his position versus the ophthalmologist's, he said it is a philosophical difference in how quickly you respond to problems. Again, given Dorothy's experience, I feel more concerned. When Dorothy went to her eye doctor, he told her to go home and sit in a darkened room. She was going to have emergency surgery the next day. She was at risk of blindness.
When I got home, I was exhausted. I took off my dress and lay down for a nap. I sent the alarm for noon so I could go to school. When the alarm went off, I was too tired to get up. I spent the rest of the day sleeping. I texted the teachers when I got up to apologize and tell them I was just tired, not ill, and I hoped I would be in on Monday.
I have found I am more tired right now. I don't know the cause, but I suspect it is the anniversary of Mike's death hitting me. I don't have thoughts of missing him. I think it is my heart that feels it. It's either that, or I have developed a heart condition. My heart feels so heavy. I have heard that the shape of the heart actually changes when we feel heartache, part of the heart droops. Can you imagine?
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