Sunday, December 26, 2021

 Sunday, December 26, 2021

 

      Another night with zero pain or even discomfort during the night. I slept like a log until about 3 am. I do go to bed early. I get more than enough sleep. 

  I checked the temperature before I walked out the door this morning at 6 am- 620. As I walked in one direction on my morning walk, I saw seven-year-old Leon, Judy's grandson, zooming up and down the street on his new electric two-wheeler bike. On my way back, Jazzy, his mom, was out in the street with Zion, who is about two, on his new electric tricycle.

  On Being Krista Tippet, "On the days that I believe . . ." Rachel Held Evans. Evolving in Monkey Town. The show had already started when I tuned in. A quote of hers was the first thing I heard. "When I believe . . . . "Then she described her reaction to moments in her life: her children's laughter, the sunset, an opening flower, etc. Then she said, "When I don't believe . . . For her, there is less joy in life. 

    Evans opened the door to faithful doubt. She was raised in a rigid evangelical church where doubt was not acceptable. There was one right way to do everything, and her church knew what it was.  

   Mowgli's life partner wrestles with how intelligent people can believe in a God. Mowgli's position is more like mine. Belief provides people with a coping mechanism. If you believe, you are never alone. After the fear of physical death, being alone is one of the worst for all social animals. At its best, religion provides people with a source of endless love and belonging. It also reminds us that we are flawed beings, never perfect. A belief in God makes it safe for us to admit we are not perfect, we are flawed, we make errors -and feel safe. At its worst, people use religion as a device to elevate themselves to the deity status by claiming that their God is the one true one and use that as an excuse to condemn or even kill anyone who doesn't believe as they do.

  I have become increasingly aware of how alone I am with the work I create in the fields of education and psychology. I have no champion. I have people who admire the work or sometimes only the result of the work. I have people who are freaked out enough by what I do to call me a quack despite knowing the success of my work. I have no one who helps to midwife the work. No one gets it, or they take it for granted. My clients' parents are impressed by my work, but I have no idea what I do and have no interest. It's more than no interest; they have no idea what teaching a child who didn't get it is about. I'm reading more about people whose contributions are acknowledged had peers who nurture their efforts. Mike supported me in whatever I wanted to do, but he was one of the people who was somewhat freaked out by it. He understood that I did original work. He liked to stay within a frame.

    On an up note, I worked on the Phase III video today. I tried a run-through just to see how it felt. It is far from ready. Going through it helps me know what I want to say.

     Damon called today. Yesterday, when I finally got hold of him, he said, "But we spoke for an hour yesterday." Okay. I'm heard he was overwhelmed with the length of our conversations. I live alone. I'm often my only conversational companion. I love hearing the sound of someone else's voice. However, Damon works for a major film studio. He spends his whole workday in conversation. Talking to me is a busman's holiday. I told him to tell me when it's too much for him, and he wants to get off. He said that was too hard. "Okay, if you can't set your own boundaries, I'll set them for you. I'm setting the alarm for 15 minutes." At one point, I said, "You have one minute left." He turned to Cyclin and said, "I only have one more minute. Do you have any questions about Mowgli's son?" You got to love it. I would so much prefer having a conversation with someone who doesn't have to fear being swallowed whole. Fifteen stress-free minutes is worth more than an hour of someone trying to pretend they're comfortable while feeling waterboarded. 

    I've been watching Emily in Paris. It took me several episodes to get into it. It is a total piece of fluff, pretty people in a pretty place doing pretty things. After several episodes, I started to invest. I was enjoying it. Last night, in the middle of an episode, Emily in Paris disappeared from my screen, and a preview for another series appeared. Elsa was sitting on my lap. I thought she had accidentally pushed a button. I tried to log back into the show. I discovered it was no longer free with prime when I found it. Now an episode costs $2.00. Shit! The whole season was $15.! That's a dirty trick. They wouldn't even let me finish the episode.