Sunday, July 14, 2024

Sunday, July 14, 2024

 

    When I ran into Dean and Nina this morning, we all affirmed that we had fun yesterday and should do it again. Yesterday, they came to my house, and we played several rounds of Sorry. It was about the level of stress we could all handle. Rummikub required too much effort, mainly since Dean and Nina had never heard of it.  Dean's request for Scrabble as the game of choice fell flat with Nina and me. I've never been particularly good at any board game. We never played them in my childhood home. My mother was uncomfortable with anything competitive. As for Nina, English is her second language. We vetoed Dean's choice.

   Having the activity in my house meant the world to me.  My home used to be filled with the energy of love and laughter. It needs to be renewed regularly.  It took several years for all the energy to be drained.  Elsa and I can't maintain it alone. There's a reason why it requires 'two or more' gathered in the name of love to make a difference. It doesn't have to be the deep-abiding love Mike and I had for each other; it can be the love any friendly person extends to another.

   Margaret was sitting next to me on the lanai during mass this morning. She always sits inside. When I asked her why, she looked offended. She confused my curiosity with a challenge and said she was tired.  I gave  a big smile and said, "Welcome!" I was genuinely glad to have her sitting next to me.

  I was anticipating two possibly difficult conversations after church. One didn't happen. The folks weren't there. The other wasn't bad in ways I expected, but it was in others.  The one that didn't happen was with a parent considering hiring me to work with their child. Their image of the child differed significantly from the test results. It was not the teacher's fault their child could not learn. He required specially trained teachers, and even then they probably could not help the child become the student the parents wanted him to be.

   The other was hurtful. Last Sunday, I was inspired to do a healing on her husband. He had suffered a head injury over a year ago and had some physical problems as a result. The work I did was primarily psychological, overcoming the trauma of the event and releasing fear.  It resulted in some immediate physical changes. His wife told me he was doing better due to the work. That was great news. I was concerned about a reversal because of how out of the blue the session was. He would either return to baseline and be worse off because he knew he didn't have to be that bad. I was concerned. His wife looked nervous. She said I had told him all the same things, but he only listened when he heard it from another person.  I can appreciate where she came from: pain that he didn't listen to her, and discomfort with the healing process. Regardless, she denigrated my gift. It didn't feel good. 

    Yes, my ego was wounded. I don't get enough positive feedback. I do fantastic work, but I rarely get the feedback. People often take it for granted or explain it away. By this time, I know it's my handiwork because of my success rate.

  What happened just a week ago? I worked with this child on his memory, and it affected a change. He's moving ahead at a reasonable rate now. I will point out to a parent their child's improvement. I do this mainly so the parent can give the child positive feedback. Positive feedback encourages the person to keep moving in that direction. It would be nice if I got acknowledgment. It's mildly disappointing when I don't.  But it really hurts when someone does what this parent did. He said, "Yes. I made him study." Do I understand why this ineffectual parent, whose son says his father does nothing to help him, says that? Sure! Does it make me feel good? No. 

   I've been thinking about ego lately. We are designed to care what others think of us; it's a survival trait. Referring to evolutionary psychology, we 'know' we are dependent on the goodwill of others for our physical safety, whether we are, in fact, in our contemporary world or not.

   Drs. Gottman and Levenson formulate the theory of the magic ratio in a marriage. For every bad interaction, there have to be five good ones for the marriage to survive. If one partner inundates the other with negative feedback, it can undermine their emotional stability. If someone continuously negates your value, it has an impact on whether you're strong or not. Mike was so precious to me because he liked me for what I liked in myself. I was one lucky lady.  

   This formula applies to all relationships. While we don't usually sit down with a calculator and figure out the ratio in our relationships, we do at an intuitive level. We all want more positive moments than negative ones—unless, of course, we have an issue to work out. We all have problems to work out—some more than others if their background was one of unresolved abuse. 

   Our egos depend on the feedback we get from the world, both from the physical world and the social one. Some claim our egos are supposed to be independent of social feedback. Not being independent means we're weak in some way. Given we are social animals, not being impacted by the input of our social network would be weird. (In the name of full disclosure, this theory is based on my belief in the evolutionary bases of our psyches.). There's a ratio of positive and negative feedback we can tolerate from others and be okay.  This does not refer to all our relationships with others; it's often not reciprocal, and public figures and their audience/adherents/fan base are often unknown. People who live in the public eye have a heavy burden to carry. Many don't survive the challenge. I marvel at those who do and seem to go on to have normal personal lives. I wonder about their source of containment.  There's a balance between caring and not caring about what others think. However, suppose the number of negative responses outweighs the positive and/or neutral. In that case, it's rough on the nerves, no matter how self-contained someone is. I think of performers and writers who have to put themselves out there repeatedly. Every one of them experiences repeated rejection, often without even knowing why.

   There are the exceptions: Meryl Streep tells how she auditioned for King Kong. DeLaurentiis's son asked her to audition after seeing her in a play.  DeLaurentiis asked his son, "Why did you bring me such an ugly woman?" in Italian. Streep is fluent in Italian and said, "I'm sorry you find me so ugly." I've done some auditioning. Directors are often rude to downright brutal.  My nephew wants to be a writer but lacks the courage to start collecting those rejection notices.  I fully sympathize. It stops me in my tracks from putting myself out there, too.

   After changing to shorts and a T-shirt in the church bathroom, I went to Safeway. They usually have a good selection of miniature fruit strudels. Today, they had nothing. Everything was chocolate. I headed over to Island Naturals to buy more Vitamin K2/7, as recommended by Dr. Reed, to help promote bone density.  They had miniature fruit strudels. I bought two packages. 

   The crystal healing session at Unity of Kona was scheduled for noon. I drove there and sat in the parking lot, working on my updates. Clyde saw me and came out, inviting me to come inside. He's a lovely, sweet man. 

   As I waited for the event to begin, I checked out the room. It was meticulously maintained, and the attention to detail was impressive for a storefront operation. I explored the space. It was much bigger than I thought. The sanctuary was at ground level, and an open second floor was built in. That's where the congregation had its after-the-service social hour, lounge, and administrative office.

  It was less crowded than it had been for the sound bath. This time, I brought a pillow for my head and a fluffy blanket under me so my back didn't hurt on the hard floor. I also used a shawl to cover myself. Someone came around and placed a crystal on my seven chakras. They also did some healing, but I never felt anyone near me.

   I only had a session with going-into-fourth-grade- MH today. We continued with Stuart Little, working on prediction.  I teach an answer that must be logical, not what I think it should be or, in the case of prediction, what it is. MH comes up with some responses I don't anticipate. It's hard for me not to tell her she's wrong. I have to restrain myself and think, "Is this logical?" So far, so good. I haven't snapped at her once. She is doing well at taking risks. 

    Elsa's back was covered with small scabs. She must have had a bad breakout.  While her belly looked less inflamed this morning, this evening, as I got her ready for her walk with Darby, I saw a large puss-filled lesion. Omg!  She's not getting better. When I got home, I fed her and bathed her. I don't know why I put it off.  I would have bathed her yesterday if I had stuck to every other day's schedule. She needs those baths to control the outbreaks.