Tuesday, March 11, 2025

 Tuesday, March 11, 2025

      I slept beautifully. I don't know what's making the difference, but I am grateful for whatever is causing it. As I lay in bed, I became aware of the feeling that every cell in my body was vibrating. For those of you who have cell phones, it's like seeing the app symbols vibrate. It's a weird and disconcerting feeling.  I associate it with fear. The easiest way to eliminate the feeling is to get up and move faster than the vibrating cells.  That's what I did as a kid. I was in constant motion.  I would have been considered hyperactive.  I was, but it wasn't a neurotological problem; it was sheer terror. My mom lived that way.  She controlled it with constant motion. She kept busy.  Hard work made her feel good. Solid social interaction will do it for me, too. It didn't for her.

   I met with my new therapist, Rob. Apparently, this was our sixth session. Shelly told me there was a shift in the therapeutic community as to the relationship of the therapist to the patient.  It used to be the therapist was the 'expert' and the client the one blind to everything about themselves. The therapist would tell them what was wrong with them and set the objective. The client had no role in the plan; their job was to do what the therapist told them to do.  I was not happy with that, which led to a diagnosis of difficulty with authority. One therapist actually assumed I was incapable of working a regular job.  She was shocked when I told her I was considered a valued and well-liked employee.  

   When employed, they paid me; I am the employee. While I often did things my way, most employers valued my performance and me. One supervisor feared for me when a new principal came in.  He wound up one of my biggest fans.  I produced results and worked well with the other teachers. What was to complain about?

   Oh yeah.  One supervisor yelled at me for something she observed me doing. "What is that? I've never seen it before!  It could never work!?  When she wrote me a reference, she acknowledged that my methods worked only with the severely impaired.  Well, better than nothing. 

   While my 'employers' pay me, I pay the therapist.  They are my employee. I've hired them to serve my needs. Now, they could refuse to do so and refuse me as a client; many did that- totally stumped by me. One concluded I was a sociopath. Anyone she couldn't work with was one.  Well, that's one criterion. 

   Rob said some therapists still hold to the 'I am King and ruler' approach to therapy. 'I see all, and the patient is blind."  I don't say the therapist doesn't have valuable insights.  Anyone's insight is valuable; a therapist is more so because they think about the human condition.  I was stunned by the 'blindness' I saw in some of the participants in the Grief recovery group. However, I wouldn't consider it an effective therapy to dump all my insights on them at once. I have to enter a situation assuming I have as much to learn as I do to teach.  There's a different mind at work. They've built a life for themselves. No, it's not perfect, but neither was mine. We all need to respect that struggle. Rob asked me, "What do you want to accomplish?" Damn good question.

   I want to be less agonized.  I see myself prone to it. I see it as an addiction, like chewing on a sore tooth.  

    I have experienced one important change since I started working with him. I'm unsure how he is effective, but I believe he is instrumental in producing that change. The confession with the priest may have helped cause a change, too. I didn't find what the priest had to offer particularly insightful. I knew all he had to say, but each human being impacts us slightly differently. You can line up ten people and have them all say the exact words, but each person's meaning and impact will be somewhat different. Amazing!  Everyone has something to offer us, even if it's just to help us clarify what we don't like and don't want. 

   My 'agony' always starts with a sensation in my solar plexus. I feel, oh, no, here I go again.  I hate that feeling. Then, I determine the 'cause' of the sensation. There's always something to choose from. The other day, I applied a method for dealing with it that I have used for the last twenty years with my clients.  I released anything negative and kept anything positive or anything I still needed about the sensation. Pop! The intensity diminished. 

    When Rob asked me what I wanted, I returned to the agony.  I used my method in front of him for the first time.  It was somewhat scary.  I had done something like this before but without the verbal protocol. I released anything negative about the vibrating sensation and kept anything positive or anything I still needed. A feeling of malicious rage rose on the left side of my solar plexus.  As I watched it, it rose up to my head.  I understood the feeling. I want restitution for what was done to me.  I think this impulse is what is behind most of the damage we do to each other. It is a frightening impulse.  I want my mother to acknowledge the damage she did to me.  I want those therapists to acknowledge they were wrong.  I want people who don't like me to acknowledge it's their problem.  All the usual crap. 

     Judy asked me if I bonded with my Grief Recovery group members.  This got me thinking about the basis for any social bonding.  The Grief Recovery group bonded because we were all in the same circumstances and following the same rules. However, I didn't feel the bond would extend beyond the group meetings.  It created an opportunity for further individual bonding but didn't assure it. 

   This gives me three criteria for bonding. The first is circumstances. We're in the same place at the same time: a movie set, any job situation, sharing a common structure, like a religion, or common social facing a crisis together, or a shared crisis, like parents in a hospital waiting room, etc.  The second is a common social structure: we all follow the same rules, we know our place.  The third is personal bonding. It has elements of the first two but is personal. Something about that person's personality appeals to us, and we appeal to them.

  It was an Ulu Wini Day.  I met with five students. The most notable observation is none of them speak an easily intelligible form of English.  Some even come from homes where only English is spoken. It's still not very good. The other problem is a serious lack of metacognitive skills. There is no awareness of choices and no conscious control over cognitive processes.  I don't know if one has a better life with these skills. I don't see that everyone who has them is better off except in the area of education. However, they are necessary skills for survival in our culture. Of course, if the whole world is turned upside down, we may be back to a more primitive way of living. Then, all our higher-order thinking skills will be useless. Perhaps the children I teach now who lack the skills I have will lead the way.

    I started with second-grade JM, who continues to have problems with comprehension. How much of her reluctance is due to fear of being wrong? I do not know her thoughts or if she has any. 

   First-grade AM wanted to learn more about hot air balloons, a topic discussed in last week's IXL reading comprehension exercise. I turned it into a writing exercise. I wrote down whatever she had to say. She had read something about hot air balloons falling from the sky if a bird pierces them. Her ability to express her ideas was limited, but AM is a 'bright' child. She will be successful in school with a bit of instruction. 

  Then, I met with third-grade AR. She has some problems with word recognition that hold her back from reading. I started her on the Neurolinguistic Programming spelling exercise last week. She looked very uncomfortable. I thought I had overwhelmed her.  I felt terrible. I was concerned she wouldn't continue with me. Today, she was completely on board. We continued to visualize the letters in the words and read the letters backward. She said the exercise we did last week helped a bit.  We also discussed a problem I've seen with many students: their discomfort with the inconsistency of English orthography.  

    I worked with fifth-grade CL. She needed help with fractions and multiplication. I don't think I did too well on the fractions. I got myself twisted around. Last, I met with third-grade PL. Lord, I never know how to deal with her. She has the attention span of a three-year-old. No, I've seen three-year-olds with better focus. Oh dear.

   I drove to Kia to pick up my car. Joe had called me earlier and told me it was ready. They hadn't had any problems with the charger since they changed the 12-volt battery. I was to keep a close record of my charging experience. If I had a failure, I was to try different chargers. I have two, and there are two in the old industrial area.