Saturday, July 20, 2019

    Bikram is going well.  I am getting more stretch on my left side, from my foot to the top of my head.  I may be able to straighten out my spinal curvature. 

    After Bikram, I went off the Safeway. Yesterday, they didn't have the multi-grain baguette that I love, so I bought a white bread one. Yuck!  Today they had my multi-grain one.  Also, for dessert, I started eating Tapioca with sliced dried apricots in it. This is ideal. It's satisfying to think about, and I don't need more than one.  Well, for now. We'll see how it goes. For the time being, no more chocolate.  I also bought some vegetarian soup. I'm good.

    At home, I had my morning soup, played FreeCell, and contemplated how I would deal with Kathrin.  I hoped she wouldn't trigger me, and I'd find myself yelling again.  I hoped I'd stay calm but clear about what I want and what I plan to do.  Yvette has stopped in several times to tell me that she is 120% behind me and will do whatever necessary to support me.  I wish she could help referee the conversation, but she is too biased on my behalf. Useless woman!  I both love that she is a momma lion and wish she could be here to help me stay calm. 

    Kathrin stopped by at 6 pm as planned. We sat in the front living room, she on the sofa and me on my typing chair across from her.  I started by asking her about her scratches on her legs. "How are they doing?" then I asked her to tell me what her thoughts had been.  She had texted me that she had some time to calm down and think about our disagreement.

    She started by telling me that she would respect my request to text her when she was out in my car.  Before this, she had texted me when she was out longer than expected, even when she didn't have my car.  I thanked her profusely for that consideration.  Yvette also told her how much that meant to me.   Then I told her that there was a more significant issue.

    I told her that after my bad experiences with some commune members, I developed a saying, "I vastly prefer that we do things our way.  However, if that is not possible, it will have to be my way, which comes in as a sorry second." I needed to discuss some general rules of interaction, not just some isolated incident. 

    By way of example, I cited the time we had a conflict of interest the previous Sunday when we prepared to leave from the Sunday feast at Manuel and Bernice's house.  I said I wanted to go.  It was late already, and I wanted to get up a 6 am to go to yoga.  She turned her back on me and said, "I have to say good-bye." I watched her as she talked to Ilke. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could see from the body language that she didn't signal that she was in a hurry because I wanted to go.  I came up with the best solution so we could both get what we wanted. I said, "It looks like you want to have conversations with everyone. Please, find someone else to take you home." She did. I left. I asked her if the situation reminded her of experiences with her parents, where her need to be friendly conflicted with their need to end the social interaction. While she didn't answer, I saw that she gave the matter some thought. That's enough for me. She could have dismissed my answer in any number of ways.

    I told her if this was an isolated problem, I could live with it as long as she was open to change.  If she was a millennial, we're done!  She didn't even know what a millennial was.  I wouldn't have known if I hadn't heard Damon and Shivani's stories who had to deal with them at work. They're infants who need to get what they want, or they're either devasted or furious.  From what Shivani has said, they don't respond to criticism of any kind.  They ignore it as a delusion on the part of their supervisor.  These poor kids.  How are they going to survive?

    I told her that I wouldn't have my needs judged.  I don't care if my need to be texted periodically is a neurotic, even psychotic, problem.  She has to decide whether and how to accommodate it or if she can't.  I proposed that I text her when I start feeling concerned, and she responds. She gave a big sigh of relief. The real problem is that she forgets to text because she is distracted by what she is doing.  Great! This is a perfectly good solution for me. 

    She had been living in a spirit of cooperation with me all along except for a few incidents. If she hadn't and ignoring my needs had been a pattern, she would have been gone a long time ago.  But I'm pretty easy to get along with, but I'm not a self-sacrificing people pleaser;  I find it interesting to experience something new and learn about myself and others.  

    Some like to travel to see the world. I have zero interest in seeing the world. Exploring myself and others is what interests me.  In negotiating with someone else when there is a  conflict of interest is a fantastic experience, both for learning more about myself and others. Is it frightening or exhausting? Yes. Sometimes. But think what people subject themselves to when they travel. Those endless hours in the air for starters, and then the adjustments they have to make to different times changes, different languages, different foods, etc.  They think nothing of it. They find it exciting.  I find this fascinating. When I have managed to reconcile with someone, really reconcile, not the grit teeth variety, it is wonderful.

    During the confrontation between Kathrin and me, we were each an adult in our way.  She could hold her own against a raging version of me.  She told me when I was interrupting her.  I do that. I loved that she could stop me. When I wind up with a conflict with someone and self-control becomes an issue,  I haul us off to a family therapist, so they can tell me to shut up when I'm blasting out.  I was thrilled that she could do that on her own.

    She also proposed ending the conversation before one of us said something we would regret. That was another way she was the more adult.  She left the house later in the evening, which was a fantastic move.  We needed distance from each other.  In the olden days, wives would stay with their mother's for a while if there was a bad fight at home.  Each to his corner to heal some wounds and calm down.  Great system. 

    I was more adult in other regards.  I was good about telling Kathrin that  I expected her to keep me informed on what she was doing with my car.  Was this incident a vestigial form of adolescent rebellion, or was it a sign she was a millennial?  One is open to change; the other, not so much.

    It was one of the things that made my relationship with Mike possible from the beginning.  We had a conflict of interest about having sex on the second date (it was the 70s).  We argued that out in a Baskin Robbins.  His voice was soft, but mine was loud. We must have entertained someone.  We did it my way (obviously not forever.)  I learned how he handled conflict on an issue that was important to him. It was one of the moments when I registered, "I could live with this man." So glad he accepted my answer and continued pursuing me.  So happy- 45 years' worth.

    I notice that I don’t remember everything Kathrin said during the reconciliation discussion. . I remember more of what I said at that time because I have given it considerable thought beforehand.  It is the human condition to remember the moments that cause distress more than the ones that are pleasing. Makes sense; the good moments don’t call for attention and change. 

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

    I think there are two ways to adapt to another person. One way is to accept the discomforts they create in your life and do something to maneuver yourself, so you avoid them,  sort of like camping out on the hard, bumpy ground. The other is to negotiate the difference so that rocks are softened sufficiently to create comfort. I would say that in any good relationship, both approaches are used. Some couples emphasize one more than the other.  The trick is to know when to apply one versus the other or run for your life.

    When I was living in the commune, some people insisted that negotiation was never necessary.  You either got along with people, or you didn't.  There is truth to this.  There are people in my life who present rocks.  Because they love me and enjoy my company, I am delighted to make adjustments to the discomforts they create in my life.  I find them amusing for the most part.     On the other hand, I would find long term living arrangements intolerable with someone I couldn't negotiate with as I couldn't with those folks in the commune.      

    While Mike and I had a sound basis for negotiation, there were also areas in our lives where we had to make do with each other.  The best I can say about those areas is that we were committed to making changes; we were works in progress. That intent was good enough for me, and I think it was also good enough for Mike.

    I know couples who live their lives, making adjustments around the discomforts they create in each other's lives; negotiation is an infrequent tool for resolving differences.  I couldn't live that way long term. I am so lucky I had Mike, who liked that I was a worthy opponent. I like worthy opponents too.

            

Friday, July 19, 2019

    I'm doing better with every passing hour, recovering from my anger at Kathrin.  I had some internal discomfort this morning in my gut, but it resolved in Bikram.  I also had a breakthrough today in class. While lying on my back with my knees bent, I was able to make contact with the ground with my torso's left side.  Seeing that, I held it in place and worked on slowly lowering the right side of my body to the ground by letting go of tension where I could. Earlier in the class, I experienced a release in the inside of my left ankle.  I guess these two are related.  I am so glad I have been focusing on my left foot with the chiropractor.  It has made a significant difference. After class, I asked Heather if she saw what was happening. She said yes; she got goosebumps watching me.  It is lovely having a teacher who can see what I'm doing.
    Today was the day of the memorial for Mike in Massachusetts for everyone in the Ross family, except me. I'm not there for two reasons.  One, I don't feel enough of a need to be there to warrant my traveling from Hawaii for it. Two: Mike's sister and one of her children and I are not on best terms, and I didn't want to disturb their experience.
    A separate memorial service became necessary because most of the people there were not at the Hawaiian funeral.  They had come to Hawaii to say good-bye to Mike when he was in the hospital, but a second trip was too much.  Just Damon, his wife, Cylin, and his son, August, were at both services.   Mike's sister, Randy, her husband, Ernie, her oldest daughter Shivani and her 2-year-old son Sidney, Randy's younger daughter, Tara, and her partner, Michael,  Jean, Mike's first wife, and her husband, John, were there..  Ah, a first cousin of Mike's who he hadn't seen for 50 years was there too. Everyone came to Northampton, Massachusetts, where Randy and Ernie live. Tara and Michael live in a nearby town.  I suspect anticipating this event, and its various ramifications made me more vulnerable the other day in my confrontation with Kathrin.
    After the event was over, while Damon, Cylin, August, and Jean were driving back to the hotel to shower before dinner, they called me to tell me how it went.  Well, nothing bad was said about either Mike or me.  That was good.  It was mostly structured around history, Mike's personal history, and his mother's family's genealogical history. Mike's first cousin Melanie is big into this.
    Damon said it was an unstructured event, although it didn't sound that way to me as he provided details.  It started with digitalized videos from Mike's childhood and videos in his first cousin's possession.  Then a photo album was shared, which Randy and Melanie put together showing pictures from Mike's youth and the family genealogy.  Then Damon played the slide show of Mike's photos he had put together for the funeral in Hawaii.  Some good things were said about Mike. That's all, folks. The family was off to a Chinese restaurant.  Mike loved Chinese food and was into cooking it.
    I feel confident in the love that some members of this family have for me. That's all I need. But I do need it.  Without it, I think I would be bereft.
     I did some work in the library.  While the books are all cataloged, there is a ton of paper to sort through.  I found ten credit cards I hadn't seen before. They looked like they had never been activated.  Why he saved them, I will never know. I will have to follow up and make sure they are dead, dead, dead. I'm beginning to be surprised I haven't found a stack of used toilet paper.  The man saved everything.
    While I was working in the library, I received a text from Kathrin.  She said she had time to think about it and wanted to talk to me. Sounded good to me. Then she followed it with the information that she had to be out of her place and wanted to come back.  I told her we'd see how our conversation went.  Does she think she is supposed to get everything her way, or was this just a nervous tick manifesting? She has shown consideration of my needs in our other interactions. I have to say that I have found her a pleasure to live with, but I am very easygoing as a hostess.  I encourage my guests to feel completely at home.  I lived in a commune and like living that way.  I look for equality.  However, when my boundaries are violated, and I don't mean those hidden biases that we all have, lookout.
    I put together a statement of expectations.  I am imagining several comments from her, mostly centered about conforming to some detail of our relationship instead of some general principle.  She is bright, but I don't know if she will respond to my abstractions.
When there is a conflict of needs:
a)    Both our needs are valid and beyond judgment. (When I don't want to give you precisely what you want, I am not judging your values, needs or actions.)
b)    We both acknowledge the validity of the other's needs. (No matter how trivial they may seem to us.)
c)    We are both willing to make an effort to accommodate the other person's needs.
d)    We both participate in finding an alternative that satisfying to both participants.
e)    Perfection is not required. It takes time to learn to negotiate.
f)    A solution does not have to found immediately unless it is a problem requiring an immediate one.
There are deal-breakers when it comes to living in my home. No drugs, no smoking, no loud music,  (Although I have a nasty habit of running the radio. But it is my home. Although, even I consider it inconsiderate of others.), and no pretending that I don't live here while I'm in the same house. Can't stand being treated that way.
    If we can't find a mutually comfortable way, one of us has to go.  And, t's not going to be me. That is non-negotiable.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

    I had a lousy night's sleep.  I tried to pray and meditate through my agitation.  I was doing the Hawaiian healing prayer," I'm sorry. I love you. Forgive me. Thank you."  You're supposed to say it to some divine being, whatever your beliefs.  I tried that and got nowhere.  I wound up saying it to Mike.  The "I love you" part felt real.  It was him I turned to when I was upset.  He would hold me and soothe me even if he thought that my behavior wasn't great. That's my current problem.  My behavior wasn't my finest.  I don't do well when people believe it is okay to ignore my needs.  I am always happy to negotiate.  I thought the resolution last Sunday night of Kathrin getting a ride home with someone else, or taking an Uber, and me going home alone was a good solution.  She didn't. She felt I was disrespecting her need to socialize.   I told her afterward that I thought if we went together in the future, she should make alternative plans to get home before the end of the evening.
    Whatever she did or did not do wrong is a factor, but my agitation in response instead of ferreting out what she meant and searching for a possible solution before blowing my stack feels lousy.  The truth is she has been good about my boundaries up to now.  She has slowly worked her way into the space and routine of the house. Now, I have to think she behaved that way because I have power and not because she also respects my boundaries.  But, I don't know what the truth is.
    I'm also suspect since her reaction was around the car, maybe this is a vestigial adolescent response to something that reminded her of her fights with her parents. There's that as a possibility, and there's the possibility that she is millennial.  No point negotiating if the latter is the case.
    I was glad to get up this morning and be done wrestling with sleep.  Bikram was a wonderful relief.  I shared with two of the women that I was upset because I hadn't been at my finest; I started crying. They both rushed over to hug me. That did some good, but even better was the phone call I got from Jean when I started driving home.
    I told her I was upset.  She said I have more than enough excuses for being not at my best.  It means a lot that I even opened my house to a total stranger. She said to forgive myself.  I told her I need her to call me every day to tell me that.  I think I'll up that to a quick phone call several times a day.  I still hurt.  Being angry causes me pain.
    In response to my text to Yvette saying that Kathrin and I had a fight and she was moving out, Yvette asked if I would like to do dinner.  I told her I was going to have a big lunch with the 'girls.' And a big dinner would not suit me. But a visit would be nice. She came up around the dinner hour, and I told her all that went down.  She thought Kathrin's behavior was outrageous.  Everyone I  speak to agrees with me.  I have to wonder if Kathrin's friends agree with her.  Yvette noticed that Kathrin still hadn't moved her stuff out. She made it clear that she would do whatever I needed to get her out if I wanted.  She felt fiercely protective. I thought there might be some guilt because she had brought Kathrin to me.  But no. She said she was only planning to have her stay a week. After that, it was my decision. Yvette spent about 15 minutes talking about all my virtues. She says she learned her generosity from me. Can't think of a greater compliment.  She made me feel better.  Being loved and told that my good attributes outweigh my bad is helpful.
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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

    Mike's mother used to say that the Internet was evil.  I never knew why she thought so, but I am beginning to see it that way myself.  It looks as if its ready access gives license to our worst impulses.  It speeds everything up.  It makes it easier for us to communicate with others in positive ways, but it also makes it possible for those who take pleasure coalescing with others around hate gain more power.  They can easily find their kind on the Internet. They express their ideas and threats anonymously.  It seems hate has a stronger voice through the Internet than kindness and love.  Am I wrong?
    I think the voice of love is soft and subtle; the sound of hate is loud and strident.  I had heard of something good that came out of our rapid communication system when someone reached out to dialogue with a hate monger and won her over.  Are these situations rare?   Could the Internet be used to help us listen to others with opposing points of view more?  I can't seem to get to that with friends I meet with over dinner.  The solution to our opposing points of view is not to discuss the topic rather than to dialogue.  Dialoguing when there are polarities is so hard. It's easier to avoid doing it.  I suppose it's at our peril.
     I could ask to hear more of the opposing point of view, but I'm scared about what I'm going to hear coming out of their mouths.  I scared I'm going to be reactive instead of calm and try to see the underlying merit in their point of view, as I would with a friend I am negotiating with.
    Good conversation follows the same rules as improvisation:  when someone gives you a line, follow it with AND not BUT.  How can I do that when their opinions frighten me so when I see the ideas they support leading to disaster?
    As always, I come back to the idea that if I want to make a change, I have to start with me, "the man in the mirror," to quote Michael Jackson.
   

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

    Wait till you hear how this day ended.  It started all right.  When walking Elsa, there was Scott out on the road waiting for Yvette at 6 am.  A little early for a 7:30 am Bikram class.  When he and Yvette left, I was coming back from my walk.  Yvette showed me a book on meditations. She and Scott were heading to the beach to meditate.  When I got to Bikram, they were there. I did more work on the small toes of my left foot.  Ah, yesterday, while working in the garden, I was able to push myself up using my left leg-- while holding on to two trees and hauling myself up.  It was still new.

    Today I worked in the garden collecting all the garden waste in one place so that the gardeners could gather it up and take it away. Now that the garden is cleaner, I can continue working on the heavy weeding. 

    I had a telephone appointment with my therapist at 11.  I’m working on dealing with the inner tolerance for others. My intolerance is not particularly pronounced until you push my buttons.  Then it comes through loud and clear.

    And to that point.  Kathrin borrowed m car to go to the farmers market and Safeway.  She left at 1:30. While she was gone, I got a call from Scott’s friend who may fix the dented fenders on my car. One of them is causing a scraping sound on my front left tire when I make right turns. He said he would stop by to take a look at the car sometime before 7 pm when he had an appointment in my neighborhood. I texted her and told her I needed the car by 6:15.   She asked me if I needed anything from the store. I said, no, thank you. She said, you’re welcome.

    She was home promptly by 6:15.  I thanked her and told her that I was worried, given her behavior the other night.  She asked to borrow the car to go to the beach to see the sunset.  Long after the sunset, I finally texted her to see if she was okay.  She said she was just thinking of texting me herself.  I was expecting her home after sunset. But, no, she fell in love with the moon.  Great! But she should have informed me.  She said she lost touch with time. Didn’t she notice if the sun had set?  

    She tells me that I’m trying to control her because I expect her to text me as to her plans after being gone for 3 hours.  I’m not respecting her lifestyle and who she is. We’re different, and I’m not taking this into account.  Has anyone seen me get angry?  Well, you should have been there.  

    I am not the best when I get angry; I must admit.  My voice gets loud, I interrupt, and I can be blisteringly sarcastic.  The good news is she could hold her own with me, telling me to wait when I did interrupt.  The bad news was that she accused me of controlling her because I wouldn’t allow her to use my car for free for as long as she wanted to without contacting me.  Boy, she pressed a pretty impressive button. Now I was really angry.   She was telling me that she expected me to do everything for her convenience. I told her she could do whatever she wanted as long as it didn’t involve me or my car.  She thought I should know that she would be endlessly involved in conversations wherever she went, and I was suppressing her.  Oh, dear.  I’m not interested in dealing with someone who thinks I’m controlling them. 

    I spoke to Judy.  She flipped out that this 30-year-old would live in my house for free, use my car for free would say I was trying to control her if I insisted that she give me an exact time when she expected to return the car or text me. 

    There was another similar incident came up last Sunday.  She introduced me to a group of Krishnas on the island who had regular Sunday feast days with some religious ceremonies. I found it very interesting and the food delicious.  However, she always wanted to stay much longer than I did. My idea of saying good-bye is a quick dash around the room. The last time we went, the group broke up late, and I was particularly anxious to get home. I told her I wanted to go home.  Without a backward glance, she told me she had to say good-bye. An alternative would be her asking me, “Can you give me a minute? I want to say good-bye.”

    I watched her converse with one woman for at least a minute, if not longer.  More distressing, I saw no signs in her body language that she was saying, “I have to make this quick because Betty wants to get going.”  Her idea of saying good-bye is an extended conversation with everyone in the room.  I told her if she wanted to engage in prolonged conversations, she should find some other way to get home. She found another participant to drive her home, and I left.  I thought the solution was a good one: a win/win situation.  As far as she was concerned, she felt I was disrespectful of her. Judy said she sounded like a millennial. 

    During our confrontation, I told her if she felt controlled by my need to keep tabs on my car, I wouldn’t lend her the car. That way, we would both have what we wanted: she wouldn’t feel controlled, and I would know where my car was.  I also talked about the possibility of her moving out.    

    I prepared my meal. We avoided each other except for a few passing exchanges.  I had trouble concentrating on my meal and the book I was reading because I struggled with what I was going to do and say. I was giving myself a week to decide if she had to go or not. I like that she could stand up to me, but she addressed me as if we had equal rights to the house and the car. Ah, maybe not. Having a sense of entitlement is good but within limits. 

    I went into the library afterward. I was still agitated. I was trying to figure out what to do about this situation. If Kathrin feels we have equal rights to this house and the car, we have a problem.  Kathrin came to the library and said she would stay at a friend’s for the night and move out tomorrow.  I said that I thought it would be a good idea; we have different ideas on how to relate.  From what she said, she has been harboring some critical thoughts about me. 

    I am sorry I didn’t hear those critical thoughts.  I can always learn from it even if no one who knows me well agrees with it. There is always some truth in what they have to say.  If nothing else, it helps me understand how other people think and guides me on how to relate to them.  It’s all good.  I’m sorry we can’t work it out, but it looks like we can’t.  I find I am relieved that the decision has been taken out of my hands.  I will sleep well tonight. 

    Josh came up while the fight was on.  He quickly walked in and then out.  I thought he left because he didn’t want to intrude. I knew he had come up to find the power cord for the stationary bike. When Kathrin and I were through,  I grabbed two miscellaneous power cords and ran down to his house.  He had left quickly because he had found one plugged into a power strip pointing to the bike.  I just sat there in his house and tried to calm down.  

    I am more upset by this whole experience than Mike’s death.  I feel good about how I was as his wife when he was alive and as his companion and support in those five weeks in the hospital.  I associate loving and being loved with all those experiences.  Not that there wasn’t occasional acting out.  Mike liked to say, ‘Our marriage works because there is always one adult present, and it’s not always the same one.”  There was no adult present in my confrontation with Kathrin.  If anything, she was more adult in the tone of it, but not in her expectations.  I don’t think you can say she is not functioning as an adult, but just as an adult with a strong sense of her rights. 

    She said my need to be contacted because I was concerned about the car was my problem. Can you picture the smoke coming out of my ears? Mike and I didn’t judge each other’s needs.  We responded with how we were comfortable responding or not responding.  We weren’t expected to go way beyond our limits. However, we were expected to do whatever we could to accommodate the other’s needs without significant self-sacrifice.  We never expected the other to change something about themselves just because the other one wanted it.  We both believed that we were better off as we made adjustments to each other’s needs.  We became bigger people. We did expect the other one to contemplate how they could make that adjustment. I think we both had confidence in the other’s intent — that created room for a great deal of tolerance and patience.  We didn’t betray each other.  Will I ever have this relationship with another human being again?

            

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

    My new foot position is challenging the muscles on the outside of my left leg, but it feels like a good thing.  I think this will make my leg muscles stronger. 

    Scott drove up to the house after Bikram to change Yvette's car battery.  While he was here, I had him look at that alcove off the library, where I would like to put in a bath with a shower.  He said it didn't look like too big a job to hook up the sewage line.  Doing this is always a big challenge here in Hawaii.  Anything that involves being underneath the surface of the earth means breaking up rock.  Our water supply lines all run above ground until they get inside the house.  Since I want a toilet, a sink, and a shower in that space, it will require a sewer line. 

    He also said that he had checked about borrowing equipment to blow insulation into the Yvette and Josh's ceiling to provide a buffer from the noise of people walking around upstairs.  That equipment is not for rent. There is one company that offers the service, but it's expensive. He suggested buying cans of Great Stuff, aerosol cans of insulation, making small holes in the ceiling and blowing it in, and sealing up the holes again. 

    I'm planning at some point to have others living here with me. I'm not interested in being in this big house all alone, nor am I interested in leaving this house except feet first.  

    I called the credit card company to deal with a little problem they created for me.  After making it a challenge to claim the reward points on Mike's credit card, they sent me a check with the incorrect amount.  It was $300 over what it should have been. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount; I hadn't expected that much, but neither did I think of the company making an error. 

    Then a week later, I got a second check for $351.  I thought it looked funny, getting two checks, so I set the second one aside without depositing it.  A week later, I got notification from the bank that there had been a stop payment on the first check.  This is without warning from the company and without an apology.  The bank charged me $10 for the stop payment.  I called the company today and was told that I would have to write a letter to ask for my $10 back and a letter of apology.  Fortunately, the bounced check didn't cause significant problems in my life.

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

    Yesterday I wrote that our true nature can go either way: for good or evil. We're not filled only with love and compassion, but with our dark side too.  In the homily, the priest said that love is our true nature.

    Are we born loving?  Well, yes and no.  We are born needing to be loved, not just physically cared for. We need to feel we are a source of pleasure, delight, to those around us. When an infant doesn't feel that way, it can sink into despair and even die. 

    We know that just physical care is not enough to satisfy an infant.  There were orphanages in eastern Europe where children were warehoused, physically cared for, but no one picked them up, expressed delight in their presence. The results were dramatic.  Children died from a "failure to thrive."

    Here we are getting into the definition of love.  Love is an abstract concept.  Each person has his sense of what it is about.  In the play Marat/Sade, Peter Brooks dramatized Charlotte Corday's murder of Marat.  They were both active in the French Revolution, overthrowing the royalty of France.  If you don't know the follow up of the revolution, it was bloody.  Corday sings, "And love meant one thing to you, I see, and something quite different to me," as she stabs Marat to death. Isn't it the darndest thing how love can mean one thing to you and something quite different to me?  

    I don't see an infant as capable of love so much as capable of being loved unconditionally.   There is a difference.  Loving someone has to have something to do with recognizing the other person is separate from yourself.  Also, the power disparity brings mutual love into question.  

    So what is this impulse to be loved?  I think it is linked to survival.  If our tribe does not show us that they are pleased with us, our lives are as much in danger as when we are denied basic physical sustenance.  Why?

      During the hunter-gatherer period, our nervous systems were developed. The objective was our survival. We didn't only need physical nutriments, we needed to know that we were welcome in the tribe.  If the tribe saw our behavior as unacceptable, we could be left for the wolves, literally, or killed. Those early tribes couldn't afford to carry people who couldn't conform to the tribal expectations. Some of those expectations had to do with no being a burden, having to be carried beyond a certain age, or being unable to participate in the tribe's activities for the of the tribe..  The tribe couldn't afford the luxury of carrying a 'disabled' person.  They were all living to close to the bone. 

    I assume this 'knowledge' is part of our nervous system.  We are social animals.  Our need for connection and approval is part of our survival need.  We look for signals as to what we are doing right or wrong. Receiving affection signals approval and delight, pleasure.  If we are doing something 'wrong' by the trial standards, we know we have to get our act together or suffer the consequences, and those consequences could be dire, as life-threatening as lack of physical nourishment. 

    Let's say love is the need to be bonded with our familiars, to feel that they are a friendly part of our environment, Since they take delight in us, we take delight in them. Since they offer us security, and our security is dependent on them, we offer them security once we are in a position to do so.  The connection feels fantastic!  It leaves us feeling so safe and so at ease.  How lovely to catch someone smiling at us just because we are there. Ah!

    On the other hand, hate for those who are not members of our group can be just as satisfying.  Research has shown that we get the same oxytocin boost from hating those unlike us as we do from loving those who are like us.  That cry of hatred is one of the things that reinforces our sense of unity with our tribe. We are US, and they are THEM.  US! US! US!  Yeah for our team.  Is our species capable of love without hate?  Oh, boy. Isn't this the question of the hour at this time of history?

Monday, July 15, 2019 (Today is my father's 116th birthday.)

    While driving to Bikram today, I pressed my left pinky toe into the floor of the car.  A whole new world.  I have been working on stretching the area between the knuckle of my left little toe and the heel's start — that caused significant cramping in my left calf muscle.  I would push the foot stretch until the cramp started, wait for a second, and then release the cramp.  I have learned that over time, with repeated stretching, the pain goes away.  Now, when I stretch the side of the foot, there is minimal cramping. I'm on to the next challenge, pushing that little toe into the ground to activate the lower leg muscles.  As I applied that principle in Bikram today, it made a huge difference, a whole new set of muscles were activated.  I am working on the belief that misalignment caused misuse of the body, which caused muscles to atrophy and connective tissue to dehydrate and become hard.  As I have aged, muscles have weakened in general, and the compensations I had in place became ineffective.  Now, I have to wake up the body I was born with.  Looks good. We'll see. I'm on a journey which I find interesting.  The end of the road may still be a THR.
    The other day Heather spoke about pressing the thumb against the index finger in postures requiring a handgrip.  This exercise strengthens the thumb muscle and prevents the pain associated with arthritis.  I remembered trying to climb a rock wall in Princeton when there was an event in the Princeton Shopping Center. My 14-year old nephew clambered up that wall with ease.  He might as well have been crawling on the ground.  Me, not so much.  I was amazed by how much strain I felt.  I must have been in my 60s, but I still was under the impression that my body would not fail me despite age and lack of use. I'm thinking that a good way to get some arm strengthen back is merely pressing the fingertips against something with some real pressure.  This may serve as an upper arm exercise for others who not inclined to work with weights, like me.
    As Mike requested in the Will, I made arrangements with my financial advisor and Damon to set up a trust account in August's name.  Mike stated that he wanted to proceeds from his life insurance to go to August. However, he never changed the name of the beneficiary.  That remained in my name.  So, when Mike died, I cashed out the life insurance to pay off the mortgage on this house.  The less debt I carry, the more I like it.  Mike was the other way around. Sometimes I had to show some muscle to get my way.  I did when I thought it was necessary.
    I discovered that Mike wanted the Life Insurance money to go to August when I read over the Will some time in June. "Yikes!  Look at this." I could have left it until I died.  If I hadn't read the Will, he could have waited until I was dead.  Methinks, that all he could do with that money was then pay for his child's application fee to college. I'm glad I did catch it because there is no way I am not honoring Mike's intent.  No way.  It gives me joy to do what he wanted. It keeps me connected.  God, I loved that man.
    I called Damon immediately to tell him what I had found. Then I called my financial advisor at Raymond James to start figuring out how to get that sum of money due August, which was no longer available through the life insurance, into a custodial account.   Damon spoke to Rick at Raymond James,  and then Damon also talked to his tax accountant to see what the penalties would be.
    Once we were all clear with the tax accountant and ready to open an account for August,  I asked Rick how much  I had in my cash account.  The sum is not equal to the Life Insurance Policy; it isn't even close.  I proposed moving 5/8th of that money over to August now and then slowly selling stock to cover the rest of the amount due, so I'm not kicked in the balls by a huge tax bite on capital gains.
    My financial advisor told me that I would not maximize the financial benefit for August. I told him we had to find a way to do the best for both of us.  He also asked me about making some changes to my investments. I told him to call Damon.  I don't like to talk about money. Bonds, stocks, money markets.  I know those terms, and that's too much already.  My financial advisor said that he didn't think it wouldn't be appropriate for Damon to be in that position.  I said there was no choice.  I also told him he could share everything with Damon. He had told me about what would to his advantage in setting up the trust account. I think Rick was concerned that Damon would misuse his authority to my disadvantage.
     I called Damon and told him my proposal.  His only concern was that I was depleting too much from my account.  Boy, that made my heart swell.  I called Raymond James right back and told them what he said.  The broker said this is not usually the case.  For the most part, money brings out the absolute worst in people even when there is plenty to go around and more than is needed to live comfortably.  The advisor said that our story is like a breath of fresh air.  She said Damon must feel very lucky; I told him I don't think he knew the difference. This is how he had been raised.
    I called Damon back to tell him what the broker said.  Damon said that Dad had set the example; it was a pretty high bar.   Actually, it is me who set this bar from the beginning.  It is me who initiated that Damon's mother be included in all family events. As for money, Mike believed that money was always better in his pocket than anyone else's. Was he a poster child for greed? Far from it, but the moral principle of always negotiating for a win/win situation is something I brought into the marriage.  Mike had a strong ethical basis in the larger world, and he didn't fight the values that I brought to the marriage. He adopted them and then when he became a Catholic and then a Deacon, embraced them entirely as his own.  I couldn't live with someone who wasn't willing to negotiate, so everyone gets the best they can out of the situation.  I have family members who have no idea how to negotiate and see all such activities as manipulations to undermine them. So sad.
    In the past, I have said that my two most significant accomplishments in life are my marriage and my relationship with my mother.  She was a difficult woman who lived with Mike and me for the last 18 years of her life. While she expressed appreciation for the situation we provided to others, she never thanked either one of us.  Nonetheless, without actually verbally negotiating, my mom and I did arrange a way to get along with each other.   I had the opportunity to be a good daughter.  I feel I can add the unified family to my list as another accomplishment. This does not mean that it's all my doing.  It is impossible to accomplish interpersonal harmony on the initiative of only one person.  I was damn lucky.
    Also It  doesn’t mean that all is hunky dory in the family these days. There was a crisis and I’m not even speaking to one member of the extended family.  When Mike was sick in the hospital, I think we both held out hope that things could improve between us.  She did something and for me it made things worse if anything.
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Musings:  I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.
   In yesterday's homily in church, the priest talked about surrendering to our true nature, which is love. Ah, That is undoubtedly a big one.
     One of the things that attracted me to Catholicism is the recognition that our true nature is an equal capacity for good or evil, and it's up to us which way we go.     I was happy to accept that Jesus was the only son of God, in my way, because the story is He is was born without sin; Therefore, I was not, and trying to be that way is pointless. Ah!  My mother, both for philosophical and neurotic reasons, devoted a lot of her parental time convincing us that we were failed human beings.  She regularly accused me of being selfish, inconsiderate, disrespectful, etc.  I really tried to be good.  Being good was a goal, but I always fell short. What was wrong with me? This resulted in a serious dislike of my failed self.  How to escape it?  When I was young, people who knew me can tell you I spent a lot of my time running, literally.  I was a whirly gig of anxiety.  But, sadly, there was no way to outrun it.  There never is.
Besides my mother's constant reminders of my imperfections, I did a thought experiment when I was sixteen, shortly after my father died.  I tried to do a truly unselfish act.  Our next-door neighbor lawn, a widow in her late middle age, was covered with fall leaves.  I would go out and rake them up.  Well, that wouldn't be utterly unselfish because she would thank me. I would feel like a million bucks for the recognition of my goodness — Nix that.  Then I thought I would do it secretly when she was out.  That way, I would avoid her praise.  Hmm!  She might be disconcerted by someone coming along and clearing her lawn anonymously.  Well, that wouldn't be kind. I also thought I would know I had done something good.  I couldn't think of any way to avoid a selfish feeling.  This was not comforting knowledge.  I am one of the few people I know who believe there is always a selfish motivation no matter what the act, even sacrificing one's life.
    We can never judge ourselves as unselfish.  That is something others can evaluate.  Has my action given or healed someone else?  Has my action taken something away from or hurt someone else?
    Which brings up another aspect of the human condition:  Taking from or hurting others is just part of the human condition. It's inescapable. But it is another matter if we set out to hurt people for the pleasure of doing it or not considering others' needs.  The best we can do is commit to doing what is best for ourselves and the other(s) in each moment. Does this guarantee that we won't hurt someone?  Sorry.

Sunday, July 14, 2019

    I went to church today instead of Bikram.  This was the first day Judy went for a long, long time.  She was still feeling bad from the chemo, which has stopped now, but was determined to go.  It was good to have her back in church. It was plain good to see her.  Our minds function in similar ways, and I love talking with her. The rest of the day was a little bit of this or that and a big nap. A telephone healing client called at 3:30 instead of four. That was perfect for me because Kathrin and I were going to a Krishna feast at Bernice and Manuel's house again, and I had to walk the dog before we left.

    We picked up our contribution of a gallon of unfiltered apple juice to which our hosts added fresh-squeezed ginger—an excellent combination.  The music, the meal, the meditation, the company were all excellent as they were before.   I even enjoy Manuel's lectures on the Bagdagavita.  The only problem was that the evening went on for too long.  We finally broke up at 9:45 pm.

    As part of the lecture, he spoke about what a mistake suicide was.  Except for some Japanese religions, I think most religions are opposed to suicide.  I asked if someone asked to be taken off life support was that suicide.  He said yes. According to him, Mike committed suicide, and I committed murder by making his death possible.  His comments didn't particularly bother me. I'm content that letting Mike go was one of the most loving things I have ever done.  I also suspect he doesn't know his religion's position on end-of-life decisions where a person is only being kept alive by artificial means.  

            When we started contemplating letting him die, I checked with someone from the Catholic church.  I would have been okay either way, but I knew Mike would want what the church said to do. FYI: It has always been legal to allow people to die by removing life support considered an 'extreme measure.' How many tubes were going in and out of that poor body?  Extreme wasn't the term for it anymore.   

    As the group broke up, I told Kathrin that I wanted to leave quickly. She said she had to say good-bye. Now, my idea of good-bye is, "Good-bye, I was so good to see you. Hope to see you again," and on to the next, including saying good-bye and thank you to the hosts. Two minutes tops.  Her idea was a two-minute conversation with a single individual.  I finally went up to her and said that if she wanted to have long conversations, I would appreciate it if she found someone else to drive her home.  She did. I went home. 

    We're going to have to negotiate this transaction ahead of time.  I appreciate Kathrin's great social skills at making good friends by the droves... , but I'm not ready to make best friends after an evening, no matter how attractive or interesting I find a person. I am more comfortable having a relationship develop slowly over time, months even years with many repeated contacts.  I will tell her that she either has to plan to make other arrangements to get home or plan to say a few quick good-byes in the future.   It was 9:45 pm before I was on the road. I had to drive home, walk the dog, wash my face, brush my teeth, do a little reading to calm down because I was overstimulated from the evening, and get ready to get up a 5:55 the next morning and get myself to Bikram.    

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

In discussing the Bhagavata tonight, Manuel talked about the true ego and the false ego. He said Jung talked about this; he represented it as if they had the same concept.   I just checked Wiki, my favorite source of information. Jung sees the ego as part of the Self.  I don't think the two distinctions are quite the same thing. As Manuel was explaining it, the true ego would be comparable to the  Self as a false ego equivalent to the ego.

    The ego, for me, has something to do with the individual interfaces with the rest of the world. The Self has something to do with our inner workings. It's like looking at the earth's crust, which interacts with the elements versus the Magna inside the earth.  One has to do with a human being in relationship to the world at large; the other has to do with the human condition — Viva la difference. 

    Manuel was saying that the true ego versus the false ego lines up more with Jung's distinctions than mine. Nevertheless, it was nice to hear someone refer to the ego in a positive light and a negative one.

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

            Jung made a distinction between ego versus soul, Self. I'm very interested in the concept of ego.  I think it gets a bad rap.  It is an essential part of our psyche.  Someone without one is in big trouble.  I make a distinction between a healthy, functional ego versus an unhealthy, dysfunctional ego. 

    Jung's design is a circle with a dot in the middle. The dot represents the ego; the circle represents the Self.  The ego, the dot in the middle, is considered part of the Self. I played with different designs showing the relationship between ego and soul.  I first started with the design of a circle for the ego and a circle for the soul.  I couldn't make it work.  

    Then I thought, the ego is formed in response to the available culture as well as internal influences. I drew two circles apart: one circle represented the outer world to which we have to adapt, the other the inner Self, which is both universal and unique to every individual.  The newborn's ego is small to nonexistent and sits between these two forces.  As the child grows and develops, the ego achieves definition in response to both the external and internal forces.

    We are formed by the external world, both physical and social. The outer world offers us roles to play, much as the acting profession offers different roles to performers. These roles include professions and character, moral versus immoral, affectionate versus unaffectionate, etc.  Performers may mold themselves to the roles they play, but they never can completely stop being themselves. No two performers fulfill a role in the same way.  We learn the language and the values of our parents. We learn our role in the family and our possible roles in society.  However, stereotyped the roles we play maybe, we can never escape our Individuality. Even when we try to do so, we each do it in our way.  We are stuck with our Individuality. We define ourselves by these roles. We say, "I am" and "I am not." All this helps us form our ego in relation to the outside world. 

    The ego is the part of us at birth, although undeveloped.  It is,  at best, a feeble sense of "I am." And "I am not." Probably, the "I am not" proceeds the "I am." It starts by distinguishing itself from the physical world. In utero, "I am not the bed of rocks I'm lying on," mother's spine. After birth, "I am not the arms I am lying in. I am not the bed I'm lying on.  This thumb is readily available whenever I need it; it must be close at hand." The infant slowly understands its physical boundaries.  This process is part of ego development. 

    What we call our Individuality is the material we bring in with us. Some of it is genetic.  From what I have read, scientists today recognize that genetics alone do not determine who or what a person becomes. It is also true the genetics can limit or expand our options.  Friends have a Fox G1 child, a genetic mutation that severely limits this child's ability to move his body, not less perceive or think. This child will never develop an ego in the human sense of the word.  Nonetheless, even then, each child born with this condition is unique, and each child's development will be influenced by his/her family and cultural setting. (This does not mean that a 'good' external environment can cure this disability.)

    Besides genetic influences are specific to each individual, there are inner drives that are universal to all of us: the drive to survive physically, and the drive to belong, be accepted and have a secure place in the external world. While these drives are universal,  the way these drives manifest in each individual is different depending on both internal and external influences. 

    As understood by a newborn and young child, the need to be loved is also a survival need.  We need to know that we are valued and will not be left for the wolves. (For those who haven't already gotten the idea, I'm big on evolutionary psychology's influence.  No, I do not consider it the sole determinant of what we become in our lives, but it is part of the quality of the material we have to work with as we work to develop ourselves.).  

    The inner part of us comes with two elements: the loving, cooperative side, and the side that wants what it wants when it wants it- and so there. This part of us is just as capable of hatred and anger. If selfishness is built into us, it must have a positive, possibly survival,  purpose, and therefore has value. 

    I don't know if human beings have always wanted to be seen as individuals within the tribal unit. (My guess is the drive was more in the other direction, to be seen as one of the tribe and not as an individual). I assume this need to see ourselves as distinct from those around us, as an individual, comes up when we are uncomfortable with the external expectations and are forced to see ourselves as different. (As we well know, societies respond differently at different times to variations on the existing mores.)      

    The ego is our self-awareness, self-concept forms from input from both our external world, the world we are born into, and our nonconscious minds. The ego, which sits between the external and the internal world, expands and grows with time.  Hopefully, this image is the design that proved most satisfying to me. I have no idea if there is someone else who has written about ego with this design.  If there is, let me know.

    Like any work of art, we are formed by the external influences on us, the artists that help make us.  A good artist sees what shape that piece of wood or marble will lend itself to. Just as wood is wood, but each piece of wood is unique.  The uniqueness of each piece of wood is created by the interplay of internal and extremal forces. What can be made with each piece of wood for the artist, even if each piece of wood from the same tree, is distinct.  We are all a work of art in the making. A good artist learns how to work with his medium, understanding its limitations and possibilities.  He doesn't ignore those factors and think he can make the medium bend to his vision.  The artist also has to develop his skills. (That is another topic for another day.) Unlike a wooden work of art, we are one of the artists creating ourselves. We have choices.

Saturday, July 13, 2019

    At the end of Bikram today, I got into a conversation with Bruce, a student on the mat next to mine.  I have no idea how it started, but he was telling me that he taught martial arts to children, and they couldn’t follow directions for love nor money.  I gave him some suggestions on how to teach this skill. Step one: isolate a specific action from the larger activity, training them to follow those directions. It will save time in the long run.
    Then the topic of kinesthetic awareness came up.  It was clear that these kids had none.  I showed him how to teach that to them by using my method of Micromoves, very slowly moving either the fingers or toes-  -very slowly.  While he could feel the impact of the movement, it didn’t feel weird.  That suggests that his kinesthetic awareness was fairly well developed.  People who are not used to body awareness at a muscular level find the experience strange, and some don’t even feel that I’m moving their fingers or toes — just some weird sensation.
    I asked him if he was aware that I had a high degree of kinesthetic awareness. He said, “I am now.”  Before, he thought I was moving slowly to be cautious.  Now, that’s true too.  He didn’t think he could apply the principles I use at his skill level.  I told him I could show him how to adapt them for his needs. He said from now on he would try to be near me so he could watch what I do.    I was surprised that someone skilled in a movement discipline didn’t recognize what I am doing.  However, I ‘m not sure I could determine what someone else is doing, either.
    After Bikram, I went to the health food store for pumpkin seeds and golden flax seeds. Then to UPS to drop off a trunk stuffed with bubble wrap.  Mike Glaser, my cousin, had borrowed three pictures of my great-aunt for an exhibition in her home town in Germany.   They were returned a while ago, but I had postponed unwrapping them because I wanted to wait until Damon arrived, and we could rearrange pictures in my house together.  I opened one of the returned paintings, a young boy in a petting zoo, because I had a place for it, and it wasn’t going to change.  Then I opened the second one because it had a fixed place also. I took the third out of the box. The three paintings were surrounded in layers and layers of bubble wrap. UPS reuses the stuff.  Ah!
    Then I went to the bank and deposited two checks from the State of New Jersey Pension and Benefits Department.  One was a widow’s benefit for something like $1500.  Given what it costs to cremate someone today, that’s not much of a boon; Social Security is even worse. The other check was all the payments from March through July.  I also got a withholding tax form from them.  It asks if I’m single or married.  I had to think about it.  I guess I’m single, at least for tax purposes. I suppose even for dating purposes — another cut.
    Then I went to Costco.  I received a notification to renew my membership. Mike and I had the Executive Membership for $125.  Our rewards for this year didn’t cover the $125, and with me alone, it will be even less.  I haven’t decided whether to join Josh and Yvette on their membership or get my own for $60, without the rewards program.  There is no way it will be worth it for me.
    When I got home, Kathrin was busy in the kitchen cleaning out the cabinets.  When she is inspired to rearrange, she always asks me first.  I had mixed feelings.  Yes, I told her she could clean whenever she liked. Yes, I am thrilled to have the cabinets cleaned. What a great house guest! But, but despite all the positives, there is a sense of boundary violation.  Oh, it’s hard being human.
    Kathrin helped me unload the car.  I put the Bikram stuff from Scott and me in the laundry with some miscellaneous items for Kathrin and me. Then I had my morning soup and did some work on the blog.

Friday, July 12, 2019

    When I got home from Bikram, there was still no sign of Kathrin.  She had dinner with a friend last night and planned to stay over.  She didn't have a car and was dependent on him to drive her home.  I have no idea what their plans are.  An old New York friend of mine once said, "You always have to leave room for people to fall in love on the subway."  I'm not worried. I know the guy through Bikram, and I'm sure he's not a serial killer.
    I was alone most of yesterday and now today. I'm rather enjoying it.  I don't know if I just enjoy being alone, or I'm in a better mood for no particular reason.  I got some things done this morning, which always makes me feel better. I don't make a list or even remember what I would put on a list, but undone chores weigh on me.
    Last night B came up to offer me some freshly picked bananas still on the stem. Hey, Rousseau, bananas grow up not down. I got him to demonstrate how to tie a knot in the nylon fish line, again. I didn't get it the first time. This time I videoed him doing it, and he used an electric cord to demonstrate, so it was easy for me to see.  Now that I can tie these knots on my own, I can work reassembling my mom's wind chime.
    After announcing that I was through with cataloging the books, I realized there was one more shelf I had missed. I cataloged them and sent John Coughlin the email address of the librarian at Notre Dame Seminary so we can start the process of emptying the library of its 3700 books. I'm sure Mike feels sorry for leaving me with this job.  I think he was assuming we would die together, at least that was his plan, and Damon and Yvette would have been stuck with the job.  I know what they would have done: dialed 1-800-dumpster. That would have had both of us turning over in our graves.
    I have started cleaning out the area where the file cabinets are kept where I’m planning to put in a bathroom. I have found 4 empty boxes. Why? Mike saved everything.  I also found his old computer.  Hopefully, I can figure out the password and get into it.  I may  find the electronic copies of his dissertation and his other book.
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Musings:  I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.
     
I was looking up the Ho'oponopono, the Hawaiian healing prayer, when I happened upon a YouTube video of Joe Vitale describing it.  Boy, did I have a different understanding of the prayer! I like his version much better.
    Both the version I am already familiar with and his include taking responsibility for whatever is happening in the world,  good as well as bad.  But the prayer focuses on undoing our contribution to whatever is bad in the world.
    In the version I was familiar with, I said, "I'm sorry, I love you, forgive me, thank you," to the person who was suffering.  But in Vitalie's description, I am saying it to God, or some version of an infinite being.  I am supposed to say it whenever I observe something which disturbs me.  The theory is if it bothers me, I have some role in it.  I may not know what my part is, but it is there. I know I have a role because the circumstances trigger a reaction in me.
    I say the prayer not to heal the other person but myself.  I want to heal myself from my reaction.  In doing so, I also heal the other person or situation.
    I have known about the prayer for years, and have used it in the past as I thought it was supposed to be used.  I can't wait to put this approach to the prayer into action.  I think the difference is that it is for my healing as well as the other persons.  That sounds right to me.

Thursday, July 11, 2019

    Last night I finished cataloging the books, 3705.  There are probably about 50 that are duplicates, but yes, he has a lot of books. Completing this task makes me sad.  It is one more step to removing any trace of Mike from this house.  Getting rid of the books is a whole other thing. I figure it will take two years, at least, but it will be a loss by a thousand cuts slowly administered. I don’t know if that is better or worse.

    I am feeling the loss of Mike deeply.  I have no one who looks at me with delight and thinks, “How did I get to be so lucky?”  That’s what Mike used to say. I would look at him the same way, and think,  “How did I get so lucky to have been found by him?”  Yes, he initiated the relationship. He made up his mind that he wanted to marry me before our first date. I was like a skittish horse he had to tame.

    Yesterday, I called Jean, Mike’s first wife, and my hanai sister, because I needed to speak to someone I love and someone who loves me.  There may be other people who love me, but Jean can radiate love the way Mike could.  When she answered the phone, I told her why I had called. She is one of the few people who wouldn’t have responded as if that was weird. 

    Heather, the Bikram instructor, suggested that we lift our collar bones.  I tried it, and wow!  First off,  the movement from my collar bones has the effect of lowering my shoulders. As I lift them, the front of my chest rotates up without a backbend, and the shoulders rotate down. It’s a whole new world.

    It also changes my breathing.  J.J. had gotten me to change my breathing by extending my belly to exhale and sucking it in and up to take in a breath.  I had trouble doing it.  Now that Heather introduced the idea of lifting my collar bone, I am coordinating that with the inhale, and it is much easier.  

    There are theories that there is a relationship between breathing patterns and blood pressure.  High blood pressure runs in my family. Everyone had it, except me- until my five-week stint in the hospital with Mike,  I was on no blood pressure medication.  Now, I finally had high numbers too.  While I was in Oahu, my blood pressure was running 164/ 100.  I called my primary doctor and got on blood pressure medication immediately. I was on four pills a day and still had trouble bringing it down.  

    Since I’ve been home, I’ve been on two pills a day.    It’s not perfect, but certainly better.  Today I had these numbers:  140/8, 128/78, 134/80, 114/74.  It always starts higher, and I can always bring it down by modifying my breathing.  The last time I took it, it was 120/76 the first time.  I worked on my breathing while taking it.  I’m going to continue working on my breathing so I can get off these pills permanently.

    I wish I had known about this long ago. The doctor said Mike’s kidney disease was caused by high blood pressure. Maybe, just maybe, I could have gotten Mike to change his breathing.  

    His breathing always concerned me.  He would do one and a half to two breaths to my one, even when he was asleep and I was awake.  I believe that proper breathing is essential for good health. While I used my abdominal muscles incorrectly, I have always been a deep breather.  Why? I have no idea.  But Mike would never have changed.  When I tried to recommend some physical change,  he would say, “Wow, this is comfortable,” and go back to what seemed ‘natural’ to him. I know he never found dialysis comfortable.  If a doctor had told him to change his breathing and sent him to a respiratory therapist, he would have listened.  But I was not an ‘expert’ and so what I knew didn’t count.  Oh, well.

    Mike’s pancreatitis was a shocker too.  The only cause the doctor could identify was the pills he took for depression and anxiety. He did try therapy, but the trauma behind his anxiety was too deep, and no one could help him.  Before we left Ohio, he was working with someone who used EMDR. He said he thought that was helping.  We thought Kaiser wouldn’t cover the therapists we knew did it.  I tried to tell him we could afford the therapy, but he refused.  I accidentally learned that if your primary doctor at Kaiser prescribed EMDR, they would cover it.  He was seeing one but not often enough.  I don’t know if my commitment to transformation will save me from anything. Still, I believe that Mike’s unwillingness to experience the discomfort that comes with change contributed to his illnesses and death.   

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Musings:  I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

    I listened to one of those new age (do they still call it that) radio programs. The guest had written a book called  No Self: Forty  Reasons to Get Over Yourself and Find Peace of Mind.  That poor self; it gets such a bad rap.  In the next sentence, the guest/author talked about who survives trauma without PTSD.  Guess what?  It’s the ones who pay attention to themselves instead of pushing down emotion.  Anyone else see a contradiction here?  

    Yes, overemphasizing individualism at the price of connection leaves us in despair, but overemphasizing communalism at the cost of individualism also leaves us in despair. It isn’t an either-or choice.  It’s a paradox. 

    If you look at any human hand, you know that it is human.  We are all built the same, at least by design.  The shape of our hands is universal among our species.  However, turn that hand over, and the details of it are so specific we can identify someone by their fingerprints.  The hand is both a symbol of the universal and the individual.  It is a paradox.  How can one thing be two things at the same time?  It just is.  

    Within us, there are these two conflicting needs: to be one with others, be part of something greater than ourselves, lose ourselves in it, and stand alone as a pure individual. Eastern religions emphasize losing ourselves in the universal. Christianity talks about losing ourselves. However, the promise of heaven is that we maintain our individuality.  Put those two together and see how they fit.   

    These contradictions are normal.  Everything is pulled in two directions: in toward the center and out toward the fringe.  Language works that way.  It pulls toward regular and the irregular simultaneously.  Sometimes one side wins too much, and we become lopsided. Balance, ah, how do we achieve that?  Is it possible to be permanently in balance? I doubt it.  We’re all on a carnival ride.

Tuesday, July 9, 2019

    I got more stretch in my left foot and lower leg at Bikram today, and my upper thighs when I stood upright. I put all my focus on those two objectives.  Heather, the instructor, came up to me during class to ask me if I was all right because I was doing such a minimal amount. I fear that I will lapse back into my old compensatory movement pattern if I try to do more.  I would rather start from the beginning and focus on these small changes.  Once my body gets used to them, I can go back to getting deeper into the asana. It amazes me that people don’t see what I‘m doing. However, I don’t know if I would see it clearly if I watched someone else work as I do. I think everyone thinks I’m having a bad day, or even worse, they worry that I’ve lost more of my range of movement due to age or depreciation.

    When I got home, Kathrin was on the phone.  She called me over.  It was her parents.  I suggested a while ago that she introduce me to them so they can see that she is in a safe situation and not with some crazy lady running a brothel. 

    Then I napped. Boy, am I ever tired.  Is it the work, the chiropractor, did on me yesterday? Is it the grief I feel about Mike’s loss triggered by my encounter in the bank yesterday? Is it lack of protein? Is it the oppressive humidity we have here now because of the side effects of a tropical depression? Is it the sudden withdrawal from Hersey’s Milk Chocolate Bars with whole almonds?  I’m off them for a while.

    I wasn’t getting satisfaction from them anymore. I was downing 2 to 3 bars a night and still not feeling satisfied.  I think it is a way to judge if something is good for me or not. If I am not satisfied by a little bit but require more and more, it’s bad for me, and my body needs a rest.  Judy suggested that this withdrawal could be a problem, causing insulin fluctuations. Who knows. Too many options. The one I can fix is the lack of protein. Kathrin is planning on making eggs tonight. 

    When I woke up from my several-hour nap, I saw Elsa had pooped on the lanai rug.  Poor girl, it certainly wasn’t her fault.  Usually, I go to the bathroom more frequently, and she will come and ask to go out of the bathroom door to the back yard.  I apologized for putting her in such a difficult position. Then to clean it up.  After I picked up the bulk of it, I went to work with my Rainbow vacuum cleaner. I poured water on the spot and sucked it up with the vacuum. I did that over and over until the spot looked clean and relatively dry.  In my experience, by the time I’m through with this procedure, the spot I’ve cleaned is the cleanest on the rug

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Musings:  I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

    I believe there are several reasons people become addicted to chemicals.  Because of the opiate crisis, we know that it doesn’t always start as a pursuit of pleasure, keeping up while chugging with friends, or the avoidance of some physical pain. Some people use chemicals to self-medicate and avoid facing their disappointments with themselves and their lives. 

    Getting free from the grip of that addiction is a challenge.  There are two critical factors in making any changes in ourselves.  First, setting a goal, and second, having the means for achieving that goal: the what and the how. I am wondering how many of these folks only have the goal of freeing themselves from the addiction.  If that’s the goal, then they have to choose between their suffering with the addiction and their suffering without it. 

    Without the numbing effect of chemical addiction, they have to deal with pain,  shame, and disappointments.  With the addiction, they have to deal with the disappointment in themselves for not controlling themselves and the consequential shame.  If those are the only two choices, I can understand why addicts stick with their addiction.  At least with the addiction, there are moments when they are numbed to the pain.  Without the benefit of the chemicals, they have to face the pain and shame 24/7.  These folks don’t see a third option: being relatively free of suffering without chemicals.  How do you convince people that there is a third alternative?  How do you convince people they can survive exploring this third alternative?  It does mean facing something they would rather not about themselves. It’s a tough call if they can’t imagine dealing with hidden feelings without being destroyed by them.