Sunday, December 15, 2024

Sunday, December 15, 2024

 

  I got a good night’s sleep after using the Breathe Right Strip.  A  partially crushed septum makes it hard for me to breathe through my left nostril.  The skin of the nose collapses more each year as my skin breaks down with age. With the Breath Right Strip, I can keep the nostrils open, ensuring I breathe through my nose instead of my mouth.  Nose breathing promotes calm; mouth breathing promotes anxiety.  Mike was a mouth breather.  He took one and a half to two breaths when asleep and one when I was awake.  I knew his bad habits would limit his life expectancy. Sadly, Mike wasn’t one to make changes in his breathing or posture.  If I corrected his posture, he’d make  a cursory effort and say, ‘Gee, this is comfortable.” And that would put an end to that.

   There was a baptism at church today. The baby I saw a few weeks ago.  I noticed her head was lolling, and neither the mother nor the grandmother made an effort to support her head when they held her.  It was painful to watch.  That incident was several weeks ago. The baby’s head still lolled in that uncomfortable way.  I don’t think there’s any doubt that this poor baby is in trouble.  I can’t imagine the family hasn’t seen their pediatrician and doesn’t know there’s a problem. 

   After church, I stopped at Island Naturals to pick up some more Vitamin K-7, which Dr. Reed recommended since I refused to take that near-lethal medication for osteoporosis at an out-of-pocket cost of $450 every 28 days. 

    One of the Kia shuttle drivers was twenty-two-year-old Zion.  I praised the customer service and asked how it was to work there.  He confirmed what I thought: Joe, his service manager, was a joy to work for.  Zion had only started working there within the last six months when the new general manager took over. 

   Zion talked about his life. He said a short while ago, his life was going nowhere. He was living in his mother’s home, lying about all day. Now, he was the father of a three-month-old and had a job. His days had meaning now. Each day, he was a dad and did meaningful work at Kia. Doing things for others gave his mind meaning. It was touching.

   Having a meaningful role and contributing something to the good of others gives our lives meaning. I lived in a commune in my thirties. I noticed the difference between residents and guests in what they could contribute. Guests weren’t expected to/allowed to make the same contributions to the community as the residents were. It was the badge of membership/belonging. 

   Ideally, everyone has a place at the table, equal rights to want and get, and equal right to give and do for.  Something akin to Marx’s ideal, “From each according to their means; to each according to their need.”  I said “something akin to” because it does not cover all contingents.  A group like that must be small and technologically primitive enough to limit the possibilities.  

     The Amish live in closed communities, rejecting technology and a system of punishment for violations of all codes of behavior.  They’re anti-abortion and, needless to say, anti-murder. I don’t know if abortions actually happen, but an internet search reveals there are murders. Those are a result of neurotic behavior possibly born from the repression within the group.  Goodness knows that a freer lifestyle also produces people with perverse tendencies.  What I don’t hear happening in the Amish community is the use of violence to punish violators of the social code. They do exile them, but only those who want to leave the community, not those who violate the code but remain in the community.  Even those driven to commit serious violations of the Ten Commandments are forgiven if they repent.  The example of the Amish community doesn’t contradict my theory of how our forebears lived.  The Amish do not live at a survival level.  Once the basic physical needs of the community are met, deviation from the code can be tolerated up to a point. 

   We all want an equal place at the table.  The cucumber/grape experiment on monkeys demonstrates what happens if the distribution is unequal. I think it also reflects human impulses.  The experiment involved two monkeys in neighboring cages. They could observe each other. When both moneys were given cucumbers, all was good. When both were given grapes, all was good. When one was given cucumbers and observed his neighbor getting grapes, all hell broke loose.  Cucumbers were just fine as long as everyone got the same. We don’t do well with unfair differences any more than the monkeys do.

   Those who need to be distinguished as higher or better than others are those who don’t trust their place at the table, their inclusion as is. I heard something recently that rang true. Those who feel they can’t get love pursue admiration; those who fear they can’t get admiration pursue respect; and those who think they can get respect want people to fear them. 

   I have a new understanding of laziness. Truly lazy people are those who suppress impulses to do something. Doing nothing and being unproductive is an unnatural state for any living thing. We are movers, doers. Several expressions draw a direct relationship between idleness and the devil. Poor productivity leads to poor self-image, which leads to destructive behavior.  Sadly, it’s not just those who do nothing; the rule applies to those who feel they don’t do enough.

   Talk of laziness leads us to the topic of shame. Oy vey! It is a hot topic these days. Shame gets a bad name. Shame has a vital function. It tells us we violated a social rule, usually something nonlegal. It also tells us when we are violated or violate others, usually some minor infraction that makes someone else feel uncomfortable. Shame helps maintain social harmony. It functions best when it plays a minor role in our lives, with slight tweaks instead of taser shocks.   

    We have a comparable system that informs us when we make mistakes when we read.  I work with students who misread words, ignore spelling and meaning, and render sentences nonsense.  The major step toward becoming a good reader is when our subconscious automatically recognizes misread words.