Saturday, January 2, 2021
Elsa and I ate dinner in the library with a closed door. The firecrackers weren't as bad last night as they were on New Year's Eve, but they were still scary. I continued watching Netflix's Bridgerton. It's an Austin knock-off, but it's pretty good. The performers are enjoyable to watch. I thought the casting was 'colorblind' at first. It was a bit jarring to see black people as English nobility in the early 19th century. It took a few episodes to adjust, but I did.
English TV has done more colorblind casting than we have in America. I still notice it, but it has become more 'normal.' I am fully aware that once we made sharp divisions between the Irish, the German, the English, the French, the Spanish, the Russian, the German, the English, the French, the Spanish, the Russian, etc., etc. We knew the distinguishing characteristics, which allowed us to categorize people' correctly.' These distinctions have evaporated. I don't look at performers and think, are they from southern Italy or from Germany or Ireland? I barely notice the color of their hair and eyes. Why can't we do this with skin color as well? Actually, we do – up to a point. The 'olive-skinned' people were separated from the pure white ones. Maybe someone still sees that distinction; I don't.
As I watched Bridgerton, I made that adjustment; I had to do some conscious readjusting, but I was doing it. Then there is a talk about racial differences. Apparently, Queen Charlotte of England had black blood. The series takes this possible fact and rewrites history. Queen Charlotte's acceptance led to the acceptance of black people as equals to whites. I was so disappointed. This reintroduces racial disparity and white power. When I thought it was just colorblind casting, I had to transcend those differences. I considered it perfectly acceptable to cast a historical figure with any good actor, regardless of physical characteristics.
I went to bed a little on the late side. I made my 10,000 steps today, but it required effort. I missed yesterday, the first day after 81 days straight of accomplishing my goal. When I woke up, it was after six. This would cause problems because it was yoga day; I only had half an hour to walk before the class.
After class, I did some work on the updates and some indoor walking in as much as I hadn't even completed 4,000 steps in my before-yoga walk and was determined to complete 10,000 before the day was over.
I did get out to check on some of the yard in the lower forty. I was relieved to see that my neighbor's fence area wasn't overgrown with my plumbago. I also checked out the hibiscus plant I had cut back drastically for blister mites. While it had been very badly infected before it was cut back, now it was okay. Ah. Those two chores have been weighing on me. Unfortunately, neglected gardening can seek its revenge. It is worse than the most vengeful of neglected loved ones.
I went back to the updates, and Judy called. We had a wonderful, long, satisfying conversation. We made plans for her to stop by this afternoon. She would bring over some leftover steak she had prepared for her family last night. We were also going to spend some time with me giving her instructions on using Zoom. Afterward, I went back to the updates. My eyes were closing; I was ready for a nap. I woke up three hours later.
I could have continued sleeping but nature called. Once up, I did several rounds of house-walking to get my numbers up. Once up, I decided to do some long-overdue cleaning in anticipation of Judy's arrival. I'm not concerned about her opinion of me and my housekeeping or lack thereof. Her visit was a push to get done what I had been putting off. When the house needed a good cleaning, Mike would say, "Where are house guests when you need them most?". I hadn't done a thorough cleaning on the dining room table, which is used daily as a desk and eating table, particularly for dinner when I'm not sequestered in the library for Elsa's sake.
Saturday is my NPR radio day. I love almost all the shows. Today's Ted radio hour talked about how people can resolve differences. They spoke about Dolly Parton, who always pursues her own interests, maintains compassion, love even for people she pushes aside. She can see both points of view.
I finally can see the difference between compromise and what Mike and I called co-creation. Compromise involves finding common ground, however small it may be. Co-creation means both people become bigger as they expand their own points of view to become different people and create something in common that is bigger. I have never seen myself as becoming a smaller person by tending to the needs of others. I see it as an opportunity to learn something new, to become someone larger. That's how it feels to me.
Sometimes this is very difficult. There are those with whom I have radically different points of view on religion and politics. Hanging on has been hard at times. It hurt, but I am so glad I did. We maintained the relationship by avoiding contentious topics and finding common ground, but there is an undercurrent of something else, at least for me. I want to know what their point of view is. It doesn't mean that I will absorb their perspective; it's not an either-or choice. As I see the world from their perspective, I sincerely believe that I will be a better person, richer, bigger. Nothing is self-sacrificing about it. It's quite selfish. Among other things, this is the world I want to live in or die for.
Mike shared my point of view. We buffeted each other, and we both became better people. We both knew that the other always had our best interest at heart. It was easier for me to give in some ways and easier for him to give in others. I gave him real-world things: the freedom to go get his second Ph.D., his kitchen, his library. I did try to talk him out of shipping his 3,000+ books from Ohio to Hawaii. He said there were only two things that had to go: me and his books. How could I argue with that set of priorities?
I didn't regret my compliance. Mike was so happy with his dream kitchen and his dream library. Fortunately, we had the money. We didn't have to sacrifice life's essentials. I loved making that man happy. Which does not mean that I made him happy in all regards. He was a passionate cook and a foodie. Me, not so much. Often at night, he would ask if I was ready for dinner. I would respond, "I hadn't finished breakfast yet." I eat to live. Food for him was one of the great joys of life. He cooked for us every night. My indifference must have been a sadness for him. There are other ways that I wasn't 'perfect' for him, and he wasn't 'perfect' for me. But he was enough. I viewed our life as an acceptable existential prison, a place for me to adjust to, to make my peace with it as it was.
I'm reading the chapter on Sartre in the Ten Theories of Human Nature. Very meritocratic. He believes we have free choice, and it is for each of us to create our own lives, our own us. Interesting supposition for a group of committed Communists, which Sartre and his cronies were. If each person is exclusively responsible for their own being or not being, then the social setting cannot be held accountable. Then we have no responsibility for each other. Interesting contradiction.
Judy stopped by to drop off dinner, garlic mashed potatoes, and steak. I have my own Instacart account. I called her at the exact moment she called me. We were both exhausted. She was also dealing with problems with the DMV. Her registration was due; when she went online, it said it wasn't. Now she has to figure out how to deal with that glitch. Going down to the DMV is an option of last resort for someone over 70. I have been there since the virus started. Masks are required, and spaced seating is provided. I had several visits there. The DMV was one of the last to offer hand sanitizers to visitors.
Judy told me that Paulette found two funky charges on her bank account. Looks like she may have been hacked. Unbelievable.
No comments:
Post a Comment