Sunday, August 22, 2021

 Sunday, August 22, 2021

 

      Where yesterday I felt low and empty, feeling my reading method couldn't be effective, I woke up angry today. There are always old, unresolved issues to dwell on. I have no idea how this can benefit me. It only makes me sad that I have family members I am in conflict with or indifferent to me. Revisions to my will triggered this feeling. There is one relative  I deleted altogether. While I continue to feel some obligation to all of the next generation, whether they feel any to me or not, someone who explicitly says she wants nothing to do with me is a little too much for me.

       I finally realized that the problem with the new slide for the video on my reading method is that it didn't fit in well with the others in the completed video. I have to review each slide of the already completed video and note what I covered to see what changes I must make to fit this one. I think the new information will make my presentation clearer. I'd been avoiding making it clear. At some level, I realize it is a big departure from conventional methods of teaching reading, and I'm scared. What can I tell you? I'm a lily-livered coward. 

    I heard Laura Basha talk on New Dimensions today. What struck me as most significant was her thoughts on 'asking' people what they think instead of making assumptions. She told the story of working with an obsessive schizophrenic, worried someone would jump out and attack her. Basha affirmed her thought and said it was possible. The moment she did, the other woman quieted down. This woman was considered hopelessly impaired. With Basha's help, she was able to become independent. This is the power of listening and respecting another's point of view. 

   I think I do this with the people I work with- easy peasy. However, when it comes to people I am personally involved with who frighten me- forget it. I understand that they are coming from their place of fear, but I cannot control my own. That cognitive empathy crap goes only so far.   Yes, it helps, but if someone's behavior scares me, I am scared. Wounded animals are dangerous. That's the truth throughout the animal kingdom. It is no different in the human realm. In addition, you have people who were once victims who still see themselves as victims. They are the most dangerous. I was once a victim. While I don't see myself as a victim, I feel a victim's fear. How do I heal that one? I've been struggling with that all my adult life.

   In my last evening walk, I ran into Olga walking Jack and asked her what she knew about the storm. She pointed to overhead clouds and said it was coming from the north. The wind was blowing stronger than I had seen it in a long time. My bedroom slammed shut. I set the Powerwall reserve for 10%, so we had power if the grid went down.

    I talked to a friend in LA who had a weird experience. He and his family live in a high-end area of LA. They have the cheapest house on their block. While the folks across the street with a view of Griffith's park, he has a view of downtown LA. 

    Recently, their next-door neighbors sold their house to a young couple with a baby. He and his wife wondered how the young couple could afford this house. Then a note arrived in their mailbox. While their neighbors considered them delightful folks, they wanted to know if they would be interested in selling their house to a close friend for 1 million over the asking price. Huh? They checked everything out. It's all legit. The guy who wants to buy it just sold his company to Facebook for $30 million. The extra million wouldn't be chump change, but close. He and his wife were willing to consider the proposition and checked out real estate in their neighborhood. They wanted a house they liked with a pool and a view, as they had now. They couldn't find anything for under 4 million in today's market. The guy offered them 5 million to sell them their house. 

    His wife posed the question to the universe and waited for a sign. He was on speakerphone with his mother when she called out, "Never move!" His mom knew nothing of their offer. She was saying this to everyone she spoke to because she was in the middle of clearing her house in preparation for a move. She had lived there for over 30 years, and her husband had lived in the house for 55. They are both paper hoarders, not newspaper- books and documents, many of which they have written. They spent every waking minute sorting and deciding what goes and what stays. It was an exhausting process. Mike and I didn't do much of that when we moved from Princeton to Ohio. However, we did- or maybe better, I did- when we moved from Ohio to Hawaii. I had a year to do it, and we had only lived there for 11 years. I did a thorough sorting, selling everything I could, giving away as much as possible, and only throwing away the rest. 

      After Mike died, I did more here. I don't want to leave this job to the kids. It's either huge or too easy. Damon would order a dumpster and be done with it all. Our poor landfill.

   I watched The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, about a book club on the Isle of Guernsey during and after the Nazi occupation. It was a delightful romantic story, except for the glimpses of the Nazi brutality during the war. The male romantic lead was lovely, but . . .  he was a pig farmer. At no point was there any mention of the horrible stench of pigs. I couldn't shake the thought of that reality. Otherwise, it was a lovely movie.