Thursday, January 21, 2021

Thursday, January 21, 2021

            Dorothy wasn't feeling well this morning. Her sinuses were kicking up, and everything goes whack-a-do when that happens. 

            At yoga this morning. I was so relaxed I fell asleep several times. After class,  I started calling the credit card companies to see if the payment had gone through. Nope. I spoke to another customer service agent; I got a new story and then a third. First,  I was told the Provision Solar company had to 'batch' it. I have no idea what that means. When I called Katherine, the solar rep, she checked with the company. They don't batch. The second explanation was a delay because of the difference in the time zones. Now the third explanation was just that it takes time. When I checked the difference between the transaction date and the posting date, I only found a difference of one or two days, no more than that. I kept calling.

            I did more work on the PowerPoint presentation. I was initially planning to just do an improvised talk. It's turning into a tightly organized presentation with a script, no less, as recommended by Damon.

            I had a therapy session. I didn't have anything to work on. I kept looking into my unconscious mind waiting for something to surface. Nothing did. I finally stopped looking intensely and just sat waiting passively. I felt like I was just sitting with a question, not knowing what the answer might be. The book "The Cloud of Unknowing" came to mind. I've read it. I didn't understand what he was saying. I don't know if I understood the concept at the time; I doubt it. But I loved the title. That had meaning. I felt like I was lying on my back just looking at clouds, the way I do in every driveway yoga session. Yvette even tells us to keep our eyes open and unfocused. It felt like I was looking at brain soup. I can see where this state of mind would not be greeted joyfully. It sounds like dementia, a constant state of confusion. The difference is that it is entered voluntarily with a sound mind. It's the skill of sitting comfortably with not knowing and feeling safe. It was very peaceful and relaxing. I decided to reread the Cloud of Unknowing and see if I can make more sense of it now. 

            I did a major, long-overdue cleaning, moving furniture to clean under it. I wanted to get it all done today because Josh will be home for 10 days. Since Yvette and Josh live under me, I try to avoid vacuuming when he is home. I will have to wash the kitchen floor tomorrow. If not, I have to wait ten days since he is due a vacation.

            I had contacted J to confirm our time for 2:30 my time and 4:30 his. When I sent the invite, he didn't respond. I called five minutes after the session was to start. He had let time get away from him. Could we do it tomorrow? No, I had appointments set up for the afternoon. How about Saturday or Sunday? We set up a time for Sunday. We've already done an hour and a half this week, and the Step-Up Tutoring only requires two hours a week. We've been doing three hours a week. We could take a break if he wanted to. 

            In our last session, we worked on his math homework. It became clear that he had problems thinking abstractly or more accurately, moving back and forth between the abstract and the concrete. I got him through his assignment, but the goal is to teach him how to think so he can do these problems independently. In our last session, I mainly modeled how to do them instead of working with his current understanding and building on that. In the intervening time, I did think about that. I came up with some strategies. Now, I am so excited to try them out. What can I tell you? 

            Right after working with J, I had a healing session with E.  in our last session, we worked on his hatred of his homework. Because his inner voice was saying he was too stupid to do this work, his effort was the equivalent of climbing a steep hill with a heavy sack of rocks. The goal was to put the sack down. (This section will contain information that might be considered Musings.)  We concluded that the 'sack' was a bit lighter but certainly not gone. He still hated doing the work, even though he was good at it.

            He wanted to continue working on his hatred of schoolwork again. I remember that E. had a deep interest in reptiles and said he wanted to grow up to be a herpetologist. I asked him if he still wanted to be one. He said no. I asked if that was because he hated schoolwork so much. He didn't know. I asked him if he could be a herpetologist without going through school, would he still want to be one. He thought for a minute and said yes. Well, the solution was to resolve whatever it was that made the work seem like such a burden.  

            I had no idea what to work on with him. I sat with not knowing for a long time. We chatted; I sat; we chatted; I sat. It came to mind to have him do the meditation exercise Yvette learned from Aadil, her yoga teacher. She has us do this at least once in every class. We lower our chins to our chest and ask ourselves three questions;" Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?" As E thought about these questions, the following things became clear. He hated being who he was. But he knew exactly why he was here. He was a big brother.  E has found his role as the oldest child crucial for as long as I've known him.

    In contrast, he doesn't see himself as his mother's helper; he hates doing chores. His sister sees herself as her mother's helper. It is essential to see that different people see different things as valuable contributions. Things are not the way they are because that's how they are; they are often the way they are because that's how we see them. 

            We went back to the way E. felt about himself. It felt like he wanted to wriggle out of his own body. That sounds like shame to me. I shared my theory of the function and malfunctioning of shame. (Here's the musings part.) 

            Shame and pain are there to warn us that we are in danger. Pain alerts us that our bodies are not functioning well, and we should attend to it. Shame warns us that our social group disapproves of us. While this is not a serious threat in 2021, it was when we lived as hunter-gathers. 

            There are people born without a capacity for pain. It's a life-threatening condition. Parents of such children have to examine their bodies with a fine-tooth comb every night to make sure they have suffered any wounds that might become infected. Internal injuries are more complicated. Such a child wouldn't feel a ruptured spleen. Besides not warning them when they are injured, this lack means they never learn not to do harmful things, like touch that hot stove again.

            Shame, like pain, is a signal that our well-being is in jeopardy. I know, I know. That makes zero sense in the 21st century in a first-world country in the USA. How could shame serve that function? Remember, we weren't designed to live with the availability of food and housing we have today. We're designed to live in small bands with one goal, survival. When any group functions at a survival level, cultural norms become much tricker. The more endangered the group's survival, the more restrictive and narrow those norms are. Those who can't conform are reprimanded, exiled, or killed. The group cannot afford to include someone who doesn't play by the rules or who can't play by the rules due to some handicap. Think of a battalion of men in fight mode. The rule is everyone has to be on the same page following the orders of their assigned leader. If someone can't, they will be pulled and sent home for treatment. We can afford to include those who cannot conform these days; it was unavailable 2 million years ago.

            Shame is our warning that we are not following the 'script.' Yes, much of our lives are scripted. This is the linguistic term for culturally prepackaged interactions. The more highly structured the social group, the more highly scripted and the fewer options for variation. There's a danger in going off-script. Yes, every social group needs its maverick. That's how change occurs, but only within a limited range. If that maverick moves too far from the existing social norm, they're in trouble.

            We are living in a society without a single universally recognized script. Each situation presents a challenge. Besides the differences from one large cultural group to another, a child goes to a friend's house and deals with unfamiliar scripts. If this child is lucky, the family recognizes that people do things differently. If the child is not lucky, they will get some pretty ugly looks for their inappropriate behavior.

            An example in my life comes to mind. I had a roommate my senior year of college that went off on me because of my bad table manners. She was seriously distressed about eating with me because of my barbaric table manners. I explained  I ate continental style rather than American. (The two cultures teach different ways of dealing with the fork and knife.)  She went, "Oh." Suddenly, I came off as a sophisticated European because the idea of Europe being elegant was part of her script. In this case, her criticism of me didn't trigger my shame. My response triggered hers. European manners trump American ones. Gotta ya.

            Shame prompts a young child to learn the 'correct' way to do things in his home. We are driven to conform to our existing social group, as we should be. But we no longer live in a single cultural environment. (although Pompeo is arguing that we should be.)  That means that our shame is triggered more frequently than it would in a culture with a single set of rules everyone knows. In a primitive culture, the correction is easy, clearly understood. In our multi-cultural environment, we are just confused. Do I do it my mother's way or his mother's way? Which is the right one? If I do it his mother's way in my house, I will get in trouble. If I do it my mother's way in his house, I'll be in trouble there. 

            Some argue that shame should be done away with. I'm not in that school of thought. Shame informs us that the social situation requires some adjustment. You can even call it a primitive form of empathy. It tells us that the other person is uncomfortable. We need different ways to deal with it. We have to be taught how to interpret the information instead of just being victims of the feeling. It would also be nice if we could all learn that life isn't a situation where everything is 'supposed' to be 'my way' and attack anyone who doesn't get it. 

            My mom was that way. She saw all contradictions as personal disrespect. She assumed I was supposed to know 'the right way." Really? Okay. My mom had problems. On a positive note: her inability to appreciate the need for her to 'teach' me her way before she could expect me to do it her way has significantly influenced my teaching. I never assume something is wrong with the student when they don't get what I'm doing. That doesn't mean I don't experience frustration and a strong desire to bang some kid on the head when I can't make them understand what I'm teaching. I just do my darndest not to act out of that impulse. Shame is here to stay, despite Brene Brown's campaigning to get rid of it.  

            I shared with E. how I solved this problem. When I was young, I believed that the goal of person-to-person interaction was 100% commonality—soul to soul. I was in my twenties before realizing that this was an unrealistic goal. I envisioned two overlapping circles. I concluded that 35% overlap is a high degree of intimacy. I told E. that I thought he and I had about a 2% overlap, if that much. We worked well as healer/healee, but not over dinner. I was too socially expressive for him, and he was too socially withdrawn for me. We both frighten each other. My behavior made him withdraw more, and his behavior made me get louder and 'friendlier' to make a connection. (I'm better than I used to be, but it takes work.) 

            If you focus on the shared part, allowing that part to be illuminated and nurtured, it might grow. If you focus on what's missing, that just feels terrible. That also triggers shame even when the other person hasn't been critical. Learning to look for what I already had in common with people changed my life. 

            I told E to examine all the relations in his life, with his family and strangers, to determine how much he shared with them. This wasn't an intellectual exercise. The instructions were to just see the two circles and 'observe' the degree of overlap. I didn't know who he was thinking of, but I did see that he was shocked by how little he shared for one person. As I look back on it, I think that person was depressed and couldn't share with anyone. 

            It was time to stop. I was about to say so when my phone rang and there was Damon. E knows Damon. I said goodbye and answered the phone. Love talking to this boy. I am so lucky he includes me on his to-do list. I am only his stepmother. Some mothers aren't as fortunate as I am.   He was arranging a Zoom game night for his mom's birthday. Yay!